#Nine Tailed Music ;; IC

[thrillered]

'You Know I Mountain Dew It For Ya" | Spencer Agnewx F!Reader | Pt. 3: You blew up.

I hope you guys like this part! I struck inspiration.

-

-

-

-

You chose to ignore your phone the next morning, putting on do not disturb and opting to put on a record while you got ready and popping in a CD on the way to work. You walked into the office, putting on a smile as you greeted people on your way to the kitchen to get a coffee.

 Normally you were one of the first people in the office, making a large pot of coffee so that it was hot and ready for your coworkers. Today, however, you didn’t have a morning meeting or shoot block so you didn’t have to come in until 11. It was a little ritual you had begun the year prior. On days where you didn’t have to be in early you would stay offline until absolutely needed. It was a welcome break from your constant social presence. 

Your morning had been so peaceful, little did you know that online, things were very different. Your song blew up on both tiktok and twitter. You had amassed more than 500,000 streams just the first night. 

You were walking to your desk, iced coffee in hand when someone grabbed it from your hand, placing it on the nearest surface. Before you could blink you were swinging around, being lifted by strong arms, in a suffocating hug, a squeal escaping your lips. You recognized who it was almost instantaneously, the familiar scent of amber and citrus embracing you.

“Well good morning to you too” You laughed to Spencer as he set you down. 

“Good morning? Just good? It’s a fantastic morning! Nay! A Stupendous morning!”

“Okay wow, this is some positivity,” You laughed, “What’s got you so bright eyed and bushy tailed?”

“Are you absolutely serious Y/N?” He raised his eyebrows so high you could imagine them flying right off his forehead. “Have you not looked at literally anything this morning?” 

“No, I never do on late mornings, you know that Spence.” 

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous,” He began, pulling out his phone, “Look at this Y/N, this is insane.” 

You looked at his screen, becoming suddenly dizzy at the words in front of you. 567 thousand streams of Espresso. You stared, swallowing thickly before emitting a loud “What the fuck?!” 

“You’re also trending on twitter and tiktok!” Spencer continued, your mind still not believing the number you had read. “Dude, you might have been famous for smosh but.. Now you're just famous, like really famous.” 

It was like the most intense high of your life. You had never had a song blow up like this, god, you had never had a song do even a 10th as good as this. You were sitting on cloud nine, this is what nirvana must feel like you thought. 

Then your stomach sank. If there were maybe 100 comments about Spencer last night, there had to be thousands now… 

You may have fucked up. On one hand your music career might take off like you’ve always dreamed! On the other hand you’re gonna have to discuss this with Spencer and that means confronting your own feelings which is not ideal.

“I need to use the bathroom.” You muttered before running off to the single bathroom, leaving Spencer more confused than he’s ever been, and that’s saying something.

 Shutting and locking the door behind you, you took a long deep breath. You leaned against the door and unlocked your phone, turning off the do not disturb to a bombardment of notifications. Friends, family, fans, everyone was texting, tagging, and tweeting you. You were overjoyed at the love your song was receiving. People were tagging you in the most loving reviews and giving the highest appreciation for the song. 

You were just scrolling, reading tweet after tweet in the “Espresso” and “Y/N from Smosh” Tag. you retweeted a post from a smosh fan account saying “I know Y/N from smosh. You know Y/N from Espresso… we are not the same”. You laughed before switching to tik tok and going through some of your notifications. You would never be able to see every video, there were just too many. You were totally engrossed, the real world fading away. Until a loud knock startled you out of your trance.

“Y/N I don’t know if you're having a crisis or what but I need to pee and you have a shoot.” Amanda’s voice yelled through the door. 

You unlocked and opened the door, seeing that half an hour had gone by. “I am so sorry Amanda, I don’t know how I spent so much time in there.” You laughed.

“You’re good honey,” She laughed, walking past you into the bathroom, “Oh and huge congrats on the song, that’s really cool, we’re all really proud of you.” 

You gave her a sweet smile before rushing to the sound stage. You were doing an episode of reddit stories with Shayne and Spencer, this week's theme was missing, it featured stories about missed connections, missed chances, and missed hints. 

“You okay?” Shayne asked as you walked into the set, heading over to get your mic. 

“Yeah of course, just got a little overwhelmed is all.” you smiled. 

“I can understand that, there’s a lot of attention on you right now, but it looks like a lot of love so that’s good,” He began, soothing your nerves, “Plus right now you get to hear about some idiots with your two favorite idiots.” he laughed. 

“Yeah, you're right, thank you Shayne.” You laughed with him.

“We’re all really proud of you though Y/N” Shayne finished, pulling you into a comforting hug. “Alright let’s get this shit going.” 

The stories were crazy, as always. Though, it was almost hard to focus on what Shayne was saying with Spencer so close. Your realization that you would have to confront your own feelings made it feel almost suffocating to be so close but so casual with him. You thought that if you got too close he would be able to feel your heartbeat or read your mind. You focused on channeling your professionalism and got through the video smoothly, you just hoped it didn’t look weird on camera. 

–

You kind of wanted to avoid Spencer. Your feelings were weird and they were strong, you weren’t sure what to do. Unfortunately you were supposed to be doing a livestream for the games channel at 3 pm and Spencer would, of course, be there. You and Courtney were supposed to play the Sims4. You were gonna be making your sim and dressing her before adding her to the smosh save. 

You and Courtney were sitting at the desk, chatting as you fixed your hair while waiting for the stream to start. Focused on your conversation with Court about how excited she was to show you the sim she had made of you, you hadn’t noticed the chat on the ‘stream starting soon’ screen. 

Everyone was talking about Espresso. Talking about how good it is, how it’s stuck in their heads, asking if there's gonna be a music video, asking for a comment on the ‘Spenspresso’ (as twitter so kindly named) allegations, etc. 

Soon enough Alex let you know your mics were being turned on and the stream was starting.

“Oh my goodness, are we live??” You asked, now glancing at the chat, turning immediately a deep shade of red. “Oh god” 

Courtney immediately realized what you were seeing and tried to change the subject of the chat by introducing the stream and talking about how you were gonna be put into the sims world. It did very little to stop the constant talk about your song. 

Spencer showed you a note from off camera, “You should just talk about it a little.” It read. You nodded before speaking. “Okay let’s address the elephant in the room… I’m wearing my hair differently” You joked, making the room laugh. “No actually, okay, thank you guys for all the love on Espresso, It’s actually so nutty how much you guys like it. However! I will be doing a live stream on my instagram to talk about it sometime today or tomorrow! So, hold your questions! Now let's sims!” You exclaimed.

That seemed to do the trick. The chat mostly switched to talking about the stream, and if the comment was about your music it was relevant to designing your character. 

Courtney did a really good job, the sim looked so much like you, almost unnervingly so. You guys had so much fun trying to style your sim, compromising with the chat by making your party outfit popstar inspired. You added your sim to the world, asking the chat what you should do.

“Spencer’s already with Shayne, they literally have a kid, Y/N can’t get with him, duh!” Courtney said, responding to a comment suggesting making you flirt with Spencer. 

A “Damn it!” could be heard off camera, Spencer nudging your foot with his own as he said it. You both joked about the ship of you two. Yet, you couldn’t help but blush and wish that he truly meant it though. His words didn’t go unnoticed by the chat either, opening a whole new can of worms.

The rest of the stream went by much smoother than you expected. You only realized you had promised an instagram live after the stream had ended. This meant you would have to say something about the Spenspresso conspiracies, and how they might not be conspiracies afterall. You would do it tomorrow, you decided. You already had a half day planned tomorrow for an appointment so it gave you time to do it anyway. 

You only had the stream left for the day so you went back to your desk once it ended, packing up your stuff in preparation to leave. 

“You heading out?” Spencer asked, walking over to you, his laptop tucked under his arm. 

“Yep, I’m done for the day.” You explained curtly, hoping to get out of a conversation and home before you word vomited a love confession. Hoping he was satisfied with your answer, you sidestepped him, throwing your bag over your shoulder before muttering a “See ya later Spencer” before swiftly walking to the exit, not stopping to say goodbye to anyone. Which was very unlike you. You were such a sociable person, you always said hello and goodbye to most of the office every day, it was something Spencer liked about you. He enjoyed your extroverted nature, it helped him to be more outgoing. 

He knew there was something wrong. You always give Spencer a hug goodbye, even if he was going to be meeting you at your house in 20 minutes. You barely spoke a word to him all day unless necessary. Not to mention you running away and shutting up in the bathroom this morning. He wondered if he did something to upset you but he couldn’t think of anything. You were together the night prior and were celebrating so he couldn’t imagine he did anything wrong. 

But he was determined to figure it out.

[hallowmoon-art]

Things I think the TouchStaved LIs like to do at the beach ⛱

Ais (assuming he isn't banned)

During the day, dig a big ass hole or build the most amazing sand castle anyone has ever seen.

At night, drink and relax on the beach but ends up crack skulls of all the drunk ppl that think they can take him in a fight. (Probs why he was banned) Would go to clubs with Vere of he isn't banned from those as well.

Kuras

Day time, take long walks to find pretty sea shells and observe those little waves pools with the starfish and other little creatures. I can also see him wanting to visit historical land marks and lighthouses.

At night, sit on the beach or condo balcony and star gaze while listening to the waves.

Leander

During the day? All the activities. Boogie boarding, paragliding, jet skies, vollyball, the whole nine yards. But he begs everyone to do everything with him even tho they don't wanna.

He would let Ais and Mhin bury him in the sand as long as they gave him a mermaid tail and titties. (Spoiler, they leave him buried with a bucket over his head)

At night, bar crawl, arcades, mini golf, go kart courses. And he stays until forced to leave. Anyone with him is absolutely exhausted.

Vere

During the day, lay out on the beach and tan all day. Lucky bastard never burns.

At night, hit all the clubs and bars with live music.

Mhin

Hates the beach bc like me they burn like toast. No amount of sunscreen will help. Stays huddled under the umbrella with a book least they have to go to the ER with sun poisoning and 32nd degree burns.

At night, they will be sitting with Kuras looking at the stars.

BONUS MCs

Yzme

Daytime, diving for sea shells and helping Ais build his exact sand sculpture replica of Eridia. Would also play vollyball with Leander so she could continuously spike the ball at his head.

At night, hunting for those little glow in the dark crabs (and scream loudly when one scuttles over her foot) Also bars and clubs.

Aelia

During the day, walk with Kuras some but mostly huddle under the umbrella with Mhin. Baby burns easily as well.

At night, visit one arcade for like 2 hours and get ice cream on the way back to the condo then stargaze with Kuras and Mhin.

Kirian

Daytime, just swim in the ocean. Maybe go paragliding with Leander.

At night, wants to visit all of the souvenir shops before they close and buy all the clothes that say what beach they are at.

[kittenofdoomage]

Neiras

THIS WORK IS ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR COPY MY STORIES. 18+ CONTENT AHEAD.

Summary: Returning to your grandmother's house on the coast brings forth a flood of memories and secrets... where will they lead you?

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Merman!Dean x fem!reader x Merman!Sam

Word Count: 6664

Warnings: alternate universe, depression, loss of family, grief, angst, merfolk, smut (monster fucking, anatomically impossible smut, sorta anatomically correct sea mammal dicks, sex in the ocean, polyamory, weird science, implied wombfucking, breeding, belly bulging), made up language, fluff (somehow, I don’t know it happened)

Canon Bay, Oregon, 2003

The sun was beginning to set, illuminating the horizon with different colors as it descended. You heard your grandmother calling, and sprinted up the beach, giggling as you crashed into the little site you’d claimed for your own earlier in the day. Now, the picnic was gone, and the air was starting to cool, making way for the evening. Under instruction to help pack up, you shook the sand out of your shoes and slipped them on, casting your attention back to the waves.

There was soft music playing from somewhere, not unusual in a busy coastal town, but it didn’t sound like an ice cream truck or one of the small rides on the pier. You listened, and your distraction from your task caught your grandmother’s attention. She called your name, and you turned your head to look at her.

“Don’t you hear that, Grandma?” you asked curiously.

Something twisted her features for a second, and then she clicked her fingers. “Come on, child, it’s just the music from the arcade.”

You knew she was lying, and somehow you knew she couldn’t hear the music. Still, she was a grown up, and probably the wisest person you knew, so you packed up, trying to ignore the sweet melody filling the air.

With everything back in the basket and bags, you followed your grandmother up the beach. As you reached the top of the sandy bank, you turned back to look at the water, pausing when you saw a human-like figure, silhouetted by the setting sun, half-submerged in the waves. You gasped, and the figure dived, splashing a tail against the surface before disappearing completely.

Your grandmother had told you tales when you were smaller about the mermaids that lived in the bay. You vividly remembered your Aunt Sylvia talking about them, believing firmly that they were real, but you were eight, and too old for fairy tales. Maybe you had simply seen a dolphin, or something else.

The music stopped.

A sharp bark of your name pulled you back to the present, and you scrambled up the bank, trudging behind your grandmother with only the occasional glance back at the ocean. You caught up quickly, and your young tongue wouldn’t be held back. “Grandma?” you squeaked. “Aunt Sylvia said mermaids were real.”

“Aren’t you a little old to believe in mermaids?” she scolded, though you recognized the pain on her face at the mention of your aunt. No one really talked about her anymore, and all they had told you was that she had moved away. You were certain she wouldn’t have left and not told you, but not even your mother would tell you anything. “Of course mermaids aren’t real.”

Her tone made you fall silent, and you didn’t say another word until you reached her little house, tucked away on the hill set back from the sea. You liked your summers there, or you had until Aunt Sylvia had left; since then, Grandma just seemed sad, much like your mother did.

She sent you to bed just after nine, but you couldn’t sleep. You kept listening, wondering if you would hear the music again, trying to stay perfectly still and quiet just in case you missed it. At some point, the phone rang, and you heard your grandmother answer.

She didn’t sound happy. “I think we should talk about her future visits,” she said quietly, assuming you were asleep. “I’m not sure it’s safe for her anymore.”

Her voice faded away, and you clutched your blanket to your chest. Did she not want you to visit anymore? Was it because you’d asked about the mermaids? You didn’t understand, but you couldn’t say anything - you knew you’d get in trouble for eavesdropping.

Sleep didn’t come easily that night, and when you woke the next morning, you were groggily greeted by the early arrival of your parents. Your grandmother seemed so sad when she said goodbye, and somehow, you knew that it would be the last time you saw her for a while.

Twenty years later…

You didn’t recognize the little town when you pulled off of the highway and followed the coast. Everything had changed. The small boardwalk was mostly just boarded up stores and a grim looking diner, and the pier was fenced off, missing the rides you remembered, crumbling at one end. In the twenty years since your last visit, the town had all but died, all the buildings had become dilapidated, including your grandmother’s cottage on the hill.

Guilt filled you as you parked up outside. You had never come back when she’d sent you away that summer, even when you’d insisted on coming to see her, she refused, preferring to make the trip to you instead. The last time you had seen her was six months ago, at your parents’ funeral, and she’d been stoic the whole time, more worried about leaving you alone than her own wellbeing.

You’d thought you had a decent support system, so you’d told her you couldn’t pull her away from her home. And for a month, you’d been okay, until you were made redundant when the company you worked for folded. Your search for a job had been fruitless, and apparently, your unemployment had also driven your fiance into the arms of another woman. All of your friends were getting married and having children, and you no longer felt like you fit in anywhere. By the time you made the decision to move in with your grandmother, it was too late.

She passed before you could make the move. Now you were here, a few hundred bucks to your name and all of your belongings in the back of your old Nissan. Grandma had left you everything in her will, including the house, which was worth approximately nothing because the town was dead. Still, it was a sorely needed roof over your head.

After two days of packing, driving overnight, and more caffeine drinks than was probably recommended, you crawled into your childhood single bed and passed out, leaving half of your stuff in the car. You managed a solid ten hours, waking when the sun was already half-way up its climb, but only because the seagulls were so damn loud.

Digging into your bag, you located the jar of coffee you had brought with you, lamenting the lack of milk. Still, black coffee was better than no coffee, though you had to flip the breakers to get the power back on. You had enough savings to pay the bills for a while thankfully, you just had to figure out your next steps.

Bringing everything in from the car, you started to unpack. Most of your grandmother’s stuff was where she left it, and you hoped some of it might be worth selling to prop up your savings a little longer. Sorting through it was not going to be an easy job.

By lunch, your stomach was growling for more than coffee. You slipped on a jacket, deciding to stroll down to the diner and see if they had anything good. It wasn’t a long walk, but daylight only served to show just how downhill Canon Bay had gone. There were no tourists, only a few fishermen along the beach, and when you reached the diner, it was deserted. An older woman stood at the till, filing her nails, and she looked up in surprise when she saw you.

“Good morning,” you greeted. She kept staring, obviously dumbfounded that she had a customer. You tried to appear casual, scanning the menu, deciding something simple would probably be safest. “Can I get a cup of coffee and a cheese sandwich?”

The request seemed to knock her back into reality. “Of course, hon,” she chirped sweetly, pressing a hand to her chest. “You’ll have to forgive me, we don’t get many strangers around here.” She moved to the till, tapping something in. “Cream and sugar with the coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“That’ll be three dollars ninety.” You handed over a five, and she handed back your change. “Find yourself a seat, darling, I’ll bring it out.”

You smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

With a quick grin, she moved toward the dining hatch. “Louie!” she called, putting the order slip on the wheel before crushing her hand against the bell. A male voice answered her, and she threw whoever it was a thumbs up, moving straight to the coffee machine.

You chose the table in the middle of the six, right by the window. As you waited, you stared out at the ocean, watching the waves crash against the pier. The waitress’ arrival made you jump, and you gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was in my own little world,” you laughed lightly.

“That’s alright,” she replied with a smile of her own as she poured your drink. “Are you on vacation here?”

“Actually,” you murmured, reaching for the cream as she slid the full cup of coffee towards you, “my grandmother lived here, all her life. She, uh, passed away last week. Left me the house.”

She paused, giving you a moment of scrutiny. “You’re Lenore’s granddaughter?”

“Uh-huh.”

“My word, girl, you’ve grown,” she exclaimed. “I don’t know if you would even remember - your grandma used to bring you in here for chili dogs when you were knee-high to a grasshopper!” She clutched her chest, and you noticed her name tag for the first time, faded but readable - Ginny. You had a vague recollection of the diner though any memory of her eluded you. “I was so sorry to hear about Lenore’s passing.”

“Yeah, she, uh - it was unexpected,” you sighed, smiling sadly. “I just wish I could have had a little more time with her.”

“She was always so nice,” Ginny said softly. “But sad, I guess after what happened to her daughter.”

“My mom’s death was pretty hard on her,” you agreed.

Her brow dipped into a frown. “Sorry,” she whispered, “I was, uh, I was talking about Sylvia. I didn’t realize your mom passed too, I’m so sorry, honey.”

The name sparked a memory, a woman with curly brown hair and a dazzling smile, leading you down the beach, telling you stories. Your heart started to thump wildly as you recalled things that had been buried for a long time. “Thanks,” you mumbled absently. “They, uh, they never told me much about - that. I was a kid, I guess they didn’t wanna upset me.”

“She was such a free spirit,” she said with a sad smile on her face. “I remember seeing the posters for weeks but they never found her, right?”

You had no idea, and told her as much, making her frown even more. “Maybe it was just too painful for them to talk about,” you suggested with a light shrug. “Explains a lot though.”

Ginny gave you a light, comforting touch on the shoulder. “I’ll go see about your sandwich,” she murmured, and you nodded, thankful for her polite exit. The mention of your aunt was still swirling in your mind, along with the recollection of your last visit, which if you were correct, wasn’t long after Aunt Sylvia suddenly disappeared from your life.

You stayed in the diner for a couple of hours, talking to Ginny for most of it. It was nice to talk to someone who was on the outside, who didn’t feel like they were going to judge you, and you promised to come down for breakfast the next day. The sky had clouded over when you stepped out onto the sidewalk, so you pulled the collar of your jacket up, heading back along the seafront to the road up to your grandmother’s house.

Or your house, you supposed.

The fishermen were gone, and the tide was coming in, crashing in stronger and stronger waves against the sand. You slowed as you heard something over the sound of the water, a soft music, almost otherworldly, and it drew you to a stop as you listened. It sent a calm through you, settling over your soul in a way no music had before.

“It’s about to rain, miss.”

The voice made you jump out of your skin, and you turned to face an older gentleman, dressed head to toe in a yellow raincoat and waders with a wide brimmed fisherman’s hat on his head. “Excuse me?” you stuttered, uncertain what he’d said. The music was gone, taking your trance with it.

“It’s going to rain,” the man repeated, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re Lenore’s grandkid.”

You had no idea who he was. “Do I know you?”

He grunted. “If you’re hearing what I think you’re hearing,” he said gruffly, with little enunciation, “you should leave. Get as far away from the ocean as you can.”

The instruction was cryptic, and bewildering; you straightened, backing up a step or two. Droplets of rain started to fall, splashing onto the sidewalk around you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you rushed out.

“Stay away from the water,” the old man warned, lifting a finger in your direction.

You turned, taking off as the rain grew heavier and heavier, resisting the urge to glance back at the old weirdo. When you reached the cottage, you shut the door and locked it securely, grabbing a towel from a pile in your room. Outside, the rain turned to a storm, and you winced when the thunder felt like it was the sky falling in on the roof. You distracted yourself with some music, trying to remove the earwig of a melody you’d heard earlier as you sorted through your grandmother’s abundant books and papers.

It didn’t take long to find the first newspaper clippings and the police reports about your aunt. You had been right about the timing between your last visit and her disappearance from your life - that summer had been three months after she was gone. The police had declared her lost at sea, and a funeral was held, but as you made your way through the letters your grandmother had written, it didn’t seem like she’d ever given her youngest daughter up for dead.

The mystery deepened when you found both her journals, and Sylvia’s, the latter of which were neatly boxed and sitting on a shelf in the living room. Your curiosity drew you to your aunt’s first, and you skimmed over her teenage entries, reading through her later ones, when she was an adult, when you vaguely recalled she’d left her husband to come and live with your grandmother.

Your heart ached for the pain in her words as she described leaving her violent marriage, how free she felt when she came to live in Canon Bay. As you scanned the passages describing her move, your blood ran cold; she had heard the music too.

Dear Diary,

I don’t know how to describe what happened today. Mom thinks I’m crazy, but I swear, I could hear the sweetest music coming from the sea. I know it’s not the first time I’ve heard it either, except she denies me ever mentioning it. Tomorrow I’m going to go to the library and try to find those old legends Dad told me about when I was a kid. I’m sure he said something about music and mermaids.

Or maybe I am crazy. I’m never sure of anything these days, not since he fucked with my head so much. Mom says she knows a therapist in town with good rates. 

You had never met your grandfather. He had left your grandmother when your mom and her sister were little, taking them with him when he moved to the next state over to give them a better education. Your grandmother hadn’t wanted to leave, and the relationship had never recovered; he died before you were born.

Reading further on, your aunt’s words began to prod at your own curiosity. She spoke of the music often, and the urge to follow it, an urge she seemed to resist at first. But as the entries got closer to the date she had disappeared, she wrote with less determination to resist it. Her final entry was short, and it chilled you to the bone.

I can’t resist it any more. I saw him today. He’s calling me home. Mom’s gonna be so mad but I have to go to him.

Who was “him”? you wondered to yourself, flipping through the rest of the blank pages. There was every chance your grandmother’s journals would reveal the answer, and you reached for them, barely noticing the time, or that the storm outside had stopped raging. It took a few minutes to find the right one that matched the date, and you flicked through, finding no mention of anything to do with music, and only brief concerns about your aunt’s behavior, at least, until you reached the entry for the day she disappeared.

They’re telling me my Sylvia is dead, that she walked into the sea. I never believed it, not even when she mentioned that forsaken song to me. The police won’t listen. Robert says that she shouldn’t have followed the music, that she’s taken by the ocean, but I can’t believe that. She wouldn’t just give up.

The pages were stained with tear drops, and you brushed your fingers over the words, looking for the next entry. They were sparse after that, up until three months later, when your last day was marked with a single paragraph.

My darling Y/N said she heard the song. She’s only a child. But Sylvia said she heard it as a child too, that it was only as an adult she felt the pull. I wish I had paid more attention to her… I can’t save her now, but I can save Y/N. Her parents are collecting her in the morning, and I’ve told her mother to never bring her back again.

You closed the journal, realizing suddenly how quiet it was. Not even the gulls made a noise, and you got up from your now-uncomfortable seated position, wandering over to the window. The sound of the waves was just catchable, so you opened the window, suddenly hearing the soft melody on the breeze again, and its effect was instantaneous. With your hands on the ledge, you leaned into the cool air, listening intently.

Sylvia was right. It did feel like a call home.

Somewhere in town, a car engine backfired, and the whooping of teenagers followed. The song evaporated, and your shoulders dropped as the spell was broken. With a sigh, you closed the window, glancing back at the piles of books and papers before deciding bed was the best place for you.

You didn’t forget your promise to Ginny, heading down to the diner bright and early with the sun shining. There was obviously fresh graffiti on a few of the boarded up stores, and when you mentioned it to the waitress, she shook her head, grumbling about shitty youth from the next town over. She confessed she knew it was only a matter of time before Canon Bay was completely abandoned, and when it happened, she would be moving to live with her cousin in Seattle. You tried not to let her downcast opinion of the future weigh too heavily on your mind, knowing that the fresh start you sought probably wasn’t going to be found in your grandmother’s aging house or the town slowly processing its death knell around it.

The pancakes were delicious at least. Belly full, and caffeine at a functioning level, you decided to walk along the beach, removing your shoes and socks to walk in the surf. There were no fishermen that day, no one at all, and you enjoyed the peace and quiet as you strolled, occasionally glancing out to sea.

You had almost made it the full length of the beach, coming close to the sheer cliffs that cut it off on one side, when you heard the music again. Slowing to a stop, ankle deep in the briny tide, you stared into the distance, squinting through the sunshine when you saw something diving below the surface. You waded a little deeper, and the bottoms of your rolled up pants started to get wet.

A head appeared above the surface, fifty meters or so ahead of you. Holding your breath, you stared, listening to the melody as it enticed you further. When it stopped abruptly, the head disappeared back below the waves, and you frowned, turning when a familiar voice yelled out at you.

“Hey!”

It was the same old fisherman from the night before. He beckoned you from the water, holding out your shoes; you hadn’t even realized you’d dropped them.

“You really shouldn’t be out there, miss,” he panted as you stepped back onto the dry sand, sparing one more glance behind you. You reached for your shoes, and he grasped your wrist, tugging you closer, and panic made you try to pull away. His face twisted with urgency, and his lips parted, revealing crooked teeth. “They’ll take you,” he hissed. “There’s no coming back.”

With one sharp pull, you freed yourself and then snatched your shoes. “You’re crazy,” you snapped, storming off up the beach. When you reached the cottage, your heart was pounding, and your head was spinning, the melody playing on repeat in your mind even though you couldn’t hear it anymore. You flopped onto the couch, staring at the mess you still had to sort through, listing the things you had to do as a distraction.

The rest of the day felt like a chore. You drifted from one task to another, getting nothing completely done. Your aunt’s diaries kept drawing you back in, trying to make sense of the things you remembered and the things she’d written down. By nightfall, you were dozing on the couch, dreaming of the ocean as you curled into the cushions.

It was the middle of the night when you jolted awake, hearing the music almost right away. For a moment, you thought you might still be dreaming, getting to your feet in a daze as you drifted towards the window and opened it. Clearly now, the melody kept playing, and what little resistance was in you faded away. You didn’t bother with shoes when you left the house, walking down the hill into the deserted, dark town, following the song until you reached the water’s edge.

A face appeared just above the water, illuminated only by the moonlight. You stepped into the slowly lapping waves, feeling the chill of it, staring at the curious eyes watching you from the surface of the calm ocean. Another set of eyes joined them, two heads now, and the melody grew stronger as your knees were submerged. You moved forward until your feet no longer reached the bottom, thrusting your arms through the water to swim forward, trying to remember lessons from so long ago. A few feet more and you were struggling, looking around for the two faces that had disappeared.

You spluttered, treading water as best you could, shivering from the cold. The current dragged you down as you floated further out, and you struck out, desperately trying to reach the surface.

Something brushed against you, making you twist in the water. Two shadows circled you, muscular bodies with long tails, vaguely human from what you could see, but you couldn’t see much. One of them came closer, pulling you up towards the moonlight, and you clutched at what you realized was a male body, or a male torso at least. He carried you higher until you breached the surface, staring into the face of your rescuer.

The song stopped. He leaned in, green eyes almost luminescent in the darkness; you could see the scales on his skin glistening with the light of the moon, his thick, short hair dripping water onto them. “You’re -” you gasped as the second being emerged from the water, another male, sporting the same scales on his pale skin.

The first one smirked, sharing a look with his counterpart. He reached up with one webbed hand, catching your jaw as he closed the distance between your bodies. You didn’t react at first when he kissed you, sliding his pointed tongue against yours. There was an odd taste to him, foreign yet not unpleasant, but before you could voice another word, your eyes rolled back and the last thing you saw was the moon above you before the ocean swallowed you.

It was daylight when you opened your eyes again, and you knew you were nowhere near when you had been. The rock you were laying on was slanted but fairly flat, and you could hear the waves gently lapping at the shore before you saw it. You lifted up onto your arms, hands planted against the smooth rock as the disorientation wore off, allowing you to take in your new situation. For one, you were nude, submerged in water up to your mid-thigh, and the sun was high enough in the sky that it warmed your skin. Raising a hand to shade your face, you gasped and froze when you realized that there were now delicate scales running the length of your arm.

A splash in the water distracted you. You weren’t alone, and you covered yourself with your hands as best you could, staring at the two males watching you with amusement. “Who - who are you?”

One of them swam a little closer, reaching out to put his webbed hands on the rock. When you flinched, he frowned, tilting his head in such a human gesture it made you pause. “We won’t hurt you,” he said softly, in perfect English.

You blinked at him. “You kidnapped me, and stole my clothes,” you pointed out. “That doesn’t exactly scream friendly.”

He smiled. “Come into the water,” he requested, “and we’ll tell you.” His companion nodded, lifting a little higher above the surface so you could see his whole face. They were both handsome, too handsome really, and their attractiveness was untainted by the scales on their skin, the slight point to their ears. “No harm will come to you, neiras,” he promised.

“Neiras?” you repeated.

No translation or explanation was offered, only his outstretched hand. You stared at it, then slowly reached out to slip your fingers into his. He smiled, helping you off of the rock and into the water, where you felt a little more comfortable with your nudity - so long as their heads stayed above water. “There,” the green eyed one murmured. “Isn’t that better?”

You weren’t sure it was better, not with how weird you were feeling. It felt like your very cells were being rearranged, and coupled with the strange scales on your arms, you were finding it hard not to panic. “What did you do to me?” you asked, looking down as you treaded water easily, feeling a greater strength in your legs than before.

“We gave you the gift,” the larger of the two males replied. “You heard our song.”

“That’s how we knew it was you,” the first continued. “You heard both of us.”

The music, you thought. Was this what had happened to your aunt? “What gift?” you whispered, shaking your head. “I don’t -”

Moving in closer, the first brushed his knuckles along your jaw. “You don’t have to be frightened,” he soothed, leaning in until you could smell the salt on his skin. “We would never hurt you. The change won’t be painful.”

Your head swam, and instinct led you to lean into his touch, seeking more, though you couldn’t make sense of it. “What change?”

The other was suddenly behind you, hands on your naked hips. “A human can’t survive where we live,” he murmured against the shell of your ear. “We had to change you, to make you more like us.” One hand slid around, cupping your lower stomach. “A human wouldn’t be able to carry our sons.”

Something clenched in your gut, and their intentions became crystal clear. “Oh,” you gasped as the first male’s lips ghosted along your jaw. “That’s -” Their hands felt like they were everywhere, and you moaned, trying to fight back the fog of arousal clouding your judgment. “I don’t - stop -”

Almost instantly they obeyed, but they didn’t move away. You panted hard, shaking your head, forcing your eyes open to look at them. “You don’t even know my name,” you stuttered out, feeling ridiculous for focusing on that above everything else. “And I’m gonna need more than…” The words felt too awkward to say. “That explanation,” you finished lamely. “I’m Y/N.”

The two creatures shared a look. “My name is Dean,” the first offered, bowing his head a little before jerking it towards his counterpart. “That’s Sam, my brother.”

“You’re, you’re brothers?” you squeaked. “And you wanna -” The phrase “carry our sons” kept swirling in your head, causing equal reactions of fear and arousal. “This is very strange,” you whispered.

“Our species are all born male,” Sam explained gently. “We have to find a mate on land, and you heard our song, which means -”

“You were meant for us,” Dean continued, catching your face in his palm again. “We called, and you followed - if it wasn’t meant to be, you would have resisted.” You pressed a hand against his chest, unsure whether you wanted him closer or whether you should push him away. “Can’t you feel it, neiras?”

If he was referring to the change in your body, then you could, and giving into it seemed so easy. Sam’s hands were on you again, his lips brushing against your shoulder. “I don’t know what that means,” you whimpered, feeling your heart pound hard in your chest.

“It means beloved,” Sam murmured, sliding his hands around to cup your breast. “Cherished. Mate.” His fingers pinched at your nipples, and you gasped, arching back into him. “You’ll swim like us, breathe the water like we do, and in time -” He hummed, and then Dean dragged your attention away with one webbed hand splayed across your stomach, smiling adoringly at you. There didn’t seem to be a need to say what they were implying; they had already told you.

Your thoughts made a fleeting return to the home you had left behind. “And I can’t… I can’t go back.”

“Is there something back there for you?” Dean asked, so close you could kiss him. “You already have a mate?”

“No,” you admitted quietly, suddenly morose with the confrontation that your life hadn’t exactly been going well lately. The only thing you could really think of that you would miss was coffee, which wasn’t really something you wanted to admit. Maybe you were crazy, but the way these beings looked at you was with more intense desire than anyone had ever looked at you. Every instinct you had was already inclining you to trust them… the call had felt like home, and you hadn’t thought twice about answering it.

“You see?” Sam purred against your ear. “You feel it; you belong with us.”

Slowly, you nodded, and Dean leaned in, finally kissing you. It was soft and needy, and his hands gripped your hips tightly, pinning you between him and his brother. When he broke away, you were breathless, and when he abruptly ducked beneath the water, it took a second for you to figure out what he was doing. His fingers pried your legs apart, and Sam held you in place with his hands on your breasts, leaving you at the other male’s mercy.

A pointed tongue ran a path over your slit. You keened quietly, head thrown back against Sam’s shoulder as Dean explored you under the surface, using his tongue to open you up. It felt different than any other time a guy had gone down on you; his tongue was rougher, stronger, definitely longer as he pushed it against your entrance, easily splitting you. You cried out this time, arching as far as Sam would let you, and with nothing to brace yourself against, your thighs settled on Dean’s shoulders. He cupped your ass, eating you out with enthusiasm, fucking his long tongue into you until you were begging for release, uncertain if he could even hear you.

All it took was his thumb pressing into your clit, brushing it a few times, before you were spiraling into a heady climax, trembling in the water between them. Sam kept toying with your breasts, and Dean released you, leaving you to literally float with ecstasy. He breached the surface with a small splash, smirking self-indulgently.

For a moment or two, they didn’t do anything, allowing you to catch your breath with your eyes closed, supported by Sam’s hold. You weren’t sure you’d ever cum so hard with another person, but your imagination was already moving onto the next part, and you suddenly had a concern about what came after. Lifting your head, you looked down at Dean’s front, spotting his belly button a few centimeters above where the thicker scales of his tail began.

“What’s wrong?” he asked with a frown, obviously catching your strange inspection.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, embarrassed you’d been caught. “I was just… well, you’re part fish, so - sex works the same way, right?”

“We’re no more fish than a dolphin,” Sam chortled, making your face even hotter with shame. “It works mostly the same way.”

You sucked in a breath as one of his hands dropped, webbed fingers stroking over your cunt. “Oh.” The logistics still created a few questions, but then Sam forced you to turn in the water, taking the opportunity to kiss you, pulling your body flush with his as his tail curled around you.

That was when you felt it. Hard and warm against your stomach, obviously his cock but nothing like a human’s. He broke the kiss, taking hold of your hand to guide it under the water, moaning when you tentatively wrapped your fingers around it. It was thick, moving more like a tentacle than a penis, but Sam seemed to enjoy what you were doing, so you kept doing it, wondering what it would feel like inside you.

Sensing your new desire, he lifted you in the water, forcing you to release him. Your legs automatically went to wrap around his waist, and the tip of his cock poked at your entrance, seeking its way in. A burst of arousal made you clench, and he dragged you down, filling you to the brim in one stroke. He was thick, thicker than you’d ever had, and the stretch of it made you cry out, clinging to his shoulders as he ground up into you, trying to get the last few inches inside.

You weren’t sure you could take anymore, babbling nonsense against his neck but wholly unresistant to his determination. Each stroke felt like it was deeper than the last, and he grunted, tightening his hold on you. “It’s too much,” you choked out, shaking your head.

“Just relax,” he urged, slowing his movements a touch, running one hand up your spine. “You can take it all.”

Another roll of hips and your body gave, accepting everything he had to offer. He groaned as he settled deep, clenching his fingers around your hips, meeting his brother’s gaze over your shoulder. Dean moved a little closer, close enough to brush his lips across the back of your neck. “Eventually, you’ll be able to take both of us, neiras,” he murmured, sliding his hands around your front to cup your breasts like Sam had done earlier. “It has to be deep, deep enough that the water can’t wash us away.”

It was hard to think straight with Sam inside you, twitching so deep. “You - you mean -”

“You feel him right?” Dean asked huskily. “Feel how deep he is?”

With one shaking hand, you reached down under the water, pressing your hand to where you could feel Sam, feel the bulge where he was buried deep in your womb. “Yes,” you gasped.

“You’re ours now,” Sam crooned, coaxing you into another soft kiss. You didn’t argue, surrendering when he began to move, drawing his thick pointed shaft nearly all the way out before sinking in again. The water splashed around you as your bodies collided, and your grip on him faltered as you started to cum, shuddering as he fucked deeper. Dean’s fingers kept teasing at your nipples, pinching and twisting until you were nearly sobbing, unable to hold out against the constant onslaught of sensation.

Sam didn’t give you any warning when he was close, but you felt it, a slow throb that made it feel like he was getting thicker inside you. You could barely keep your eyes open, rolling from one climax to the next, and when Sam started to spill deep in your body, you went slack, trembling from head to toe. After a few moments, he withdrew, but there was no reprieve - Dean was right behind you, quickly sliding into the place his brother had carved out.

Dean seemed perfectly content to hold your weight on his own, keeping one arm wrapped around your chest as the other kept a hold on your hip. His tail beat powerfully through the water, giving him the leverage to thrust up into you, making you cry out with every single ram of his hips into yours. Your fingers clung to his arm with a lack of anything else to hold on to, whimpering over and over as pleasure made you feel drunk.

With a throaty growl, he came, and you could feel your stomach bulging with the weight of what they’d left inside you. You couldn’t help the climax he triggered, and unlike Sam, he didn’t pull away when he was done, keeping you there, plugged up and full of both of them. “I knew it was you,” he murmured. “When I saw you, all those years ago.” He sighed, kissing your shoulder as you quivered in his arms.

The boy in the water, you thought absently, enjoying the sudden calm that washed through your veins.

Dean chuckled, grinding into you again, reminding you that he was still hard. “Don’t think we’re going to be done with you for a while,” he warned, lips against the shell of your ear. “You’ll be swollen with us before nightfall.”

The sun was setting on the cove by the time they had spent themselves, allowing you to rest on the shoreline in between them, still partially submerged by the water. You didn’t say anything for a long while, dozing peacefully. When night had nearly fallen, Dean roused you with a hand on your shoulder, calling your name softly.

“It’s time to go home,” he said as you sat up, blinking at him, thinking at first that he meant Canon Bay before the truth rushed you. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just -” You sighed, offering him a weak smile. “For a second, I thought it was a dream.”

He smiled. “Not a dream, neiras. But it is time to leave. You have much to learn.” Pushing down into the water, he moved to a deeper depth, waiting for you to join him. You got to your feet, staring out at the sunset before looking down at your hands. There were more scales now, and you felt a new strength in your muscles, which you could only attribute to the change they had spoken of earlier.

Sam called your name. You looked at them, both bobbing in the gentle waves, waiting for you to take the final step forward into a new world. Crinkling your toes in the sand, you put one foot forward, then the other, until you were wading into the water to join them.

“Ready?” Dean asked, catching hold of your hand as you got near.

You smiled and squeezed your webbed fingers around his. “Ready.”

THANK YOU FOR READING, PLEASE CONSIDER REBLOGGING SO OTHERS CAN ENJOY IT 😁

[quirkwizard]

What do you think Class 1-A's action figures would look like in universe?

Non-quirk related question haha. What do you think class 1A's barbie-ken taglines would be? Not sure how to frame the question but for example for Tokoyami it could be, "This Ken is gothic" or for Ochako it could be, "This Barbie is on cloud nine" (due to her quirk)

I mean, I'm not sure if there is much to say on that. I feel like any taglines for actions figures would just be pretty generic, but I can talk about action figures.

Sato: Comes with a series of small snacks that you can feed him to cause him to bulk up and you pop open the stomach to get them back.

Koda: Just a simple figurine of him with a bunch of small animal models that you can play with as well. Comes with a button to play animal sounds.

Mineta: Orbs on the head are removable and the toy comes with arms that catapult the orbs forward. Possibly with a pointless target pad that no kid will use.

Sero: His tape dispensers can be pulled out like a rip cord, letting the action figure pull itself to whatever you put the doll on. Filling them with regular tape did not work well with test audiences.

Aoyama: Armor is made of a super reflective material that shimmers and has a flashlight in the belt to replicate his beam. Also comes with a lot of costume variants and accessories at Aoyama's instance.

Hakagure: Like Aoyama, her toy is very reflective, almost like a giant prism that gives off colorful lights when put up to any light. A stocking issue made it a hard to find collector's item for a time.

Ojiro: The tail can be curled up and then released, causing the action figure to fling forward. This curling can be used to make it hang on stuff as well. His tail also comes with "kung fu action grip", because of course it does.

Denki: Comes with a bunch of flashing lights and sounds for his electrical attacks. Has a swithcable head for his regular face and his low power face, much to Denki's chagrin. Batteries are not included for some reason.

Jiro: Definitely has some music aspect for it's main gimmick, like being able to use her jacks to plug your MP3 player into it to play music on it or having recordings of her songs on it when you press a button on it.

Kirsihima: Either has a bunch of plates on it that you can put on him to harden him up or you push a button to pop them out of the toy. Had issues in production because of how dangerous the hair spike was for kids.

Mina: Has an action figure with a lot articulation. It's main feature is a goo that comes with it that kids are suppose to put in and fire out of the toy. They fill it up by removing head and pouring the goo in, much to Mina's horror.

Shoji: The main feature would obviously be his arms. They'd either work like super stretchy arms or have a much of attachments that a kid could connect and stack on top of each other to add on whatever organs they want.

Iida: This figure with a set up buttons that can kick the legs forward, able to demolish any stack of cups that you happen to set up. He happens to be bundled a lot with overly complex, Ingeium themed cars, much to Iida's confusion.

Tsuyu: Has a lot of suckers on the hands and feet so you can stick it to surfaces. The tongue can be shoot out as well to grab onto stuff, kind of like those sticky hand toys. Yes, it is water proof and a popular bath toy for young children.

Tokoyami: Probabley has a standard figure with Dark Shadow with larger versions of it being sold separately. The parts of Dark Shadow can be removed and put onto Tokoyami for his armored form. It has a glow in the dark feature, without a doubt.

Shoto: Comes with fire and ice attachment to simulate shooting it out of his hands and feet. The scar was on the wrong side of a better part of it's run and it's occasionally bundled with Endeavor toys to help increase Enji's poor sales.

Momo: Her costume had to be changed on the figurine in order to be sold in stores. She comes with a massive amount of accessories to have her wield, along with little facts and tidbits about them. Momo demanded that her toy had some educational merits.

Katsuki: Probably has some spring power launcher in his arms that you can use to fire out plastic darts. Definitely has something that screams out catchphrases like "Die!" and "I'll kill you!" that would have to be rewrite and recorded several times to get them published.

Uraraka: Has a button that makes her hands glow like she does when she uses her powers along with has wench systems like Sero for her grapple hooks. Probably has a weird spin off line based around it, like Uraravity's Space Adventures featuring the Alien Queen Pinky.

Izuku: The most popular and with the most variations, though the standard ones glows with a button press, has spring shoots for the boots, and an spring in the hand to fire plastic air blasts. Sometimes comes out with special versions that come with other Quirks he had.

[i-am-church-the-cat]

After watching 2024 ISU Montreal, Logan as a figure skater has been on my mind for the longest time.

god...aaaa...im rolling on the floor rn, i can't handle it

the years of my life invested in YOI and figure skating aus is unstoppable, i can't hold it back, i must type-ity-type

Logan's father introduced him and Dalton to ice skating through hockey. Even living in Florida, they had been fans of any and every sport. Football was a favorite, of course, as was basketball, baseball, soccer, lacrosse, sailing, surfing, skiing, and golf. High-contact sports were the most compelling to boys of their age, so when they learned that there was a sport where guys slammed into each other with knives on their feet, they had to check it out.

But starting hockey wasn't what made Logan fall in love with the ice. The first time he'd ever skated had been with his mother on a lake by her childhood home back up in Ohio. He'd been so small, stuck to her side like a barnacle, a mama's boy since the beginning.

The smooth glide of his feet across the clear surface was revelatory. The weight of himself was no longer holding him down, gravity was easier to fight on skates instead of shoes. The thin white lines they left behind them were entrancing. Logan never worried about getting lost because he always knew where he'd been.

Hockey was fun but it wasn't what Logan wanted. The ice wasn't made for chipped teeth and blood-soaked spit. Something that was safety and grace, as dangerous as it was beautiful, deserved more respect than that.

There was a kid on the team between his and Dalton's, Lance. He was cool in a weird sort of way and didn't care that Logan never knew when to speak and when to stay silent. They didn't hang out often and they've fallen out of touch since, but it was his fault that Logan became who he was.

Or, more accurately, his sister's.

Chloe wasn't very graceful but she was an artist and she loved the ice. If Logan got to practice early enough, he could watch the tail end of her figure skating practice. Mr. Stroll always rented out the entire rink for Chloe and her private figure skating coach, only the best for his daughter. So a lot of the times it would be just her, dancing on the ice, her coach, shouting critiques over her chosen music, and Logan, sitting lonely and enraptured in the stands.

It took him almost a month of watching Chloe before he got up the nerve to try out some of the things he had seen. The choreography wasn't that hard, though Logan's rhythm wasn't the greatest at nine years old. But the jumps were hard, and the jumps hurt, and he couldn't figure it out.

But something always made him get back up and keep trying. He couldn't stop once he got something stuck in his mind and the leaps and twists of figure skating jumps were stuck like flies in amber.

The first jump he ever landed was a toe loop. Not that he knew what it was called at the time, and he barely finished a whole rotation, but he stayed standing which was better than he had done in the couple weeks he'd been trying any time he could steal some ice time. When Logan had hit the ice, wobbling but not falling, he'd let out a shocked, delighted laugh. Instead of being sated, his fascination with figure skating just wanted more.

"You're a little old to not be landing singles."

Logan whirled around at the unexpected voice. He'd thought he was totally alone, the rink on the edges of closing. But there was Chloe Stroll's figure skating coach, looking at him with calculating eyes. Logan tried to hold himself up taller, to look more secure than he felt.

"I- I've never tried before," Logan had admitted. He'd felt embarrassed and then felt mad for feeling embarrassed. The coach had looked considering.

"Have you ever tried ballet? You might want to start there."

Logan, even at nine, had recoiled at the idea. It had taken all his courage just to practice figure skating in private, in steps and moments he could steal. But ballet was- his dad would never want him to do that. Dalton would laugh at him, the couple friends he had would think he's weird. He couldn't do ballet.

But he couldn't give up the ice, either. Even when his hockey season ended, Logan was at the rink every day, begging his mom to take him after school. He was older than most kids were when they started and he didn't have a coach or any proper training. If he wanted to do the kind of things Logan wanted to do on the ice, he'd have to push himself further, train his body more, practice for hours on end. A few hours every week wasn't enough.

It was nearing the summer time when Logan worked up all the courage in his little body to ask for ballet lessons. He'd done research, used the family computer to look up ballet teachers in the area, ones that specialized in training athletes for other sports. He had his arguments, his bargaining chips, his promises and dreams all held in the palm of his head.

Logan worked up the courage to ask.

And his father had laughed.

So had Dalton. The only one who didn't laugh was his mother, who saw the heartbreak Logan tried so hard to hide with his fake laughter. Of course, he was only joking. That was the only possibly explanation for why he would say such a thing.

Logan's dreams died that night. He resigned himself to copying jumps he saw on YouTube, stolen moments in the ice rink that felt safer than his own home sometimes.

But the next week, when his mom was taking him to the ice rink, Logan realized they'd made a wrong turn. When he mentioned it to his mom, she'd just shushed him. He'd been left in confusion all the way up to the small, squat building. He'd picked out the words on the sign in front of him like a crow picking out gems from the refuse.

Ayliah's Ballet School

Logan's dad was mad when he found out about the lessons a few months later. In response, Logan had brought all the figure skating magazines he'd been hoarding down from his room and showed them to his parents. The pages he'd bookmarked, the sketches he'd made to try and figure out a skater's pose, the torn-out descriptions of an intricate step sequence. He'd looked up at his dad with big, desperate eyes, willing him to understand the inextricable draw figure skating had at him.

By the time he started fifth grade, Logan had a ballet teacher and figure skating coach. By the end of fifth grade, he had landed his first triple jump.

--

At 19, Logan was the most anxious he could ever remember being. He was also more excited than he thought physically possible.

It was his third year in the senior series, and for the first time, he'd been invited to two ISU grand prix. He had an actual chance at the world championships, something he hadn't had since he won the junior series at 16.

Logan's choreography that year was good, really good. He'd put way more work into his presentation after what an opposing skater had said to him at nationals last year.

"Your jumps might have won you one championship, but everyone can jump in the senior series. Stand out, Logan, or get out."

For Logan, who had never cared much what music he had or what step sequences he did as long as it got him enough points, it was a rough wake up call. He was proud of his jumps, the technical perfection he'd spent years and years honing. He could now land the the quad toe loop, quad salchow, and quad Lutz consistently in competition. But his artistry left something to be desired, and it hurt his program scores in the long run.

He'd changed that this year. He'd worked with his choreographer for months to find the right music, the right transitions, the right spins and steps. Logan had even reached out to a figure skater he'd skated with in the junior leagues who always had the best costumes about his stylist.

The first thing he'd noticed about the ice was that it was a canvas, a glistening field just awaiting someone to paint it in soft white stripes. He'd fallen in love with the danger of it, the allure, but he had neglected the emotional appeal. Madame Ayliah would surely be disappointed if he saw him.

But not this year. Not with a short program as bold as the one he had this year, not with a free skate this spellbinding. Logan had even started drafting ideas for a exhibition state, caught in the draw of expressing his emotions on the ice. He was never good at being vulnerable but this year, the ice demanded it of him. He demanded it of himself.

The US could send three men's figure skaters to the World Championships. Three out of thousands. Logan was going to show why he deserved to be one of them.

One day, Logan would lay on the ice, bleeding and broken, and know its cruel love had run out. But today, it welcomed him home.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

HERE, KITTY, KITTY (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnlingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Thank you all so, so, soooo much for the love on this story! I'll be writing some brand new shit soon! Stay safe! -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*********

TEN.

When the next day comes, it brings with it some unseasonably warm weather that Aizawa feels when he wanders into the living room and finds you gone. 

He isn’t sure how you got out since the windows are locked, but he supposes that cats have their ways. He felt a twinge of disappointment at seeing you gone once again, but he knew that you would probably want to be outside and not cooped up in a dorm all day.

Plus, now that Eri has more hope that you’ll come home after your adventures, she seems much happier. Even when he wakes her up in time to get her ready to hang with Hitoshi before his classes begin, she is a giggly, upbeat little ball of energy. 

“Maybe she’ll bring back a present,” she happily says as she and Aizawa walk hand and hand across campus. “Or maybe she’s with other kitties! You think she’ll let us meet them, Daddy?” The way she looks up at him excitedly makes his heart clench. “If she trusts us enough and has friends, sure,” he chuckles. 

During the entire day of work, Aizawa is feeling pretty good, though one thing could make his day go a whole lot better: seeing you.

He purposely has stopped by your office a few times when taking bathroom breaks just to see you, but every time he does, you’re never in. He thinks that maybe you just took off today or perhaps your hours are different this week.

Whatever it is, it’s none of his business, but he can't help the disappointment he feels at not seeing your pretty face or cute little ears.

He has no idea why since he ends up becoming a rock-hard, blushing mess over them regardless. He doesn’t know how he was able to say even one coherent sentence to you while he and Eri were eating ice cream yesterday afternoon. Maybe Eri was the missing link. Or maybe the ice cream. It’s been proven chocolate works as an aphrodisiac. 

Aizawa can’t help but feel wistful about his conversation yesterday with you. It was all so amazing that it felt like a good dream to him–the easiness he felt speaking to you; the way such joy sparkled in your eyes; your musical laughs that he wanted to hear again and again; the way you engaged Eri that made him want to put a baby in you himself.

It all felt so good. So right. He can't help but feel like that may never happen to him and you again. 

He’s just too damn anti-social. Too shy. Too awkward. What would he be able to say without Eri linking the two of you together? How can he speak to you, especially with those damn ears and that tail he wants to desperately stroke?

Where does he even begin to learn how to charm and woo a woman when he hasn’t had the urge to do so since high school? 

He knows just the person to talk about this with, so after the day is through and school is out, he and Mic take a trip to the faculty dorms’ private gym. They leave Eri in the kids’ section that Nezu specifically created for her and any other faculty members who may have children. So far, she’s the only one occupying the space.

While Eri colors and sings along to the Little Mermaid playing on the TV overhead, Aizawa gives Mic the rundown on his dilemma as he does his bicep curls with some 16 lb dumbells.

Mic is overjoyed as he does his cool-down stretches, his long legs splayed out in front of him. “Ah, I’m so glad you’re coming to me with this, Shouta!” he happily says, grinning at his friend. “We need to talk like this more! It’ll do you good to open up about your concerns and anxieties with the ways of women.” 

“Don't get used to it,” Aizawa grumbles, giving Mic a fixed stare from the bench. “I’m only tellin’ you because you’re the only one I semi-trust with this.”

Mic just laughs as he continues his cool-down stretches, pressing down onto his knees. “And I only wanna talk to her because she seems nice. I don’t want her to think I hate people or whatever.” 

Mic glances at him curiously. “But you do hate people.” 

Aizawa flushes as he bends forward, still doing his curls. “Well, yes, but she’s too nice to be all people,” he argues. “She actually gives a fuck about her job and the way she engaged in conversation with Eri was just…”

He trails off and smiles dreamily as his mind fills with visions of you and Eri together, in your own little world. The way you encouraged her to be her little bubbly, hyper self was the cutest shit he’d ever seen. You’d be a great mom, he knows…if you aren’t one already, that is. 

Something in Aizawa wilts at the possibility of someone having you–maybe a partner or a husband. You never talked about being married or dating, especially to him, so he knows thinking this way is stupid. But dammit, he just can’t help himself or these intrusive thoughts.

Feeling eyes on him, he looks at Mic, finding a goofy, knowing grin on his face. “Stop lookin’ at me like that,” he growls. 

“Man, I don’t know why you don’t just admit that you like the girl!” Mic laughs, standing up and raising his arms, lean with muscle, high. “C’mon; she’s sweet, intelligent, loves kids, and has those cute lil’ cat parts. She’s your dream girl!”

Aizawa rolls his eyes, thinking his friend is just being overly dramatic as usual. “Just ask her out one day when she’s free. Simple as that!” 

Aizawa softly grunts as he lays the dumbbells down at his feet, giving his arms a break. “I don’t just ask people out,” he huffs, frustrated. “And I’m not askin’ her out, to begin with. I just want to have a conversation with her without feeling awkward. I want us to be strictly friends.” 

Mic just shakes his head pityingly at the professor. “Whatever you saaaay,” he sing-songs, obviously thinking differently. “But you should still ask her to lunch or something to get to know her if you don’t feel comfortable doing it around us in the break room.” He snaps his fingers, a lightbulb flicking in his head. “Maybe for some ramen! Everybody likes ramen, right?” 

“Who likes ramen?” you suddenly ask from the door. Aizawa nearly chokes on the water he’s chugging down when he spots you in a bright yellow sports bra and black yoga pants that should be illegal on you, especially with the way you cut out the back so your tail can breathe. It swishes happily at your ankles when you spot Mic.

“I thought I heard your voice,” you giggle. “I could hear you all the way down the hall.” You come farther into the room with a duffle bag and Hydroflask. 

As you do, your eyes fall onto Aizawa and your tail stops swishing. “Oh…sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” Aizawa’s mouth goes dry despite the water he just drank as he stares at you, forcing himself to not check you out. 

Mic snickers quietly, already gathering his shit. “No, come in!” he enthusiastically insists. “I was just getting ready to leave. Gotta grade papers now or else I’ll never get to ‘em. But you don’t worry your pretty ears; Shouta here is a great gym buddy.”

He turns to Aizawa and gives him a wink. “See you two tomorrow!” he chirps before he practically rushes out of the gym. 

Aizawa makes a mental note to kill his friend and hide the body later. 

When you walk farther into the room, you barely spare him a glance. Though it pains him, he can’t exactly blame you because he keeps his eyes down at his feet too as he proceeds to finish his bicep curls.

Out of his peripheral, he watches as you lay a yoga mat down from the row of shelves underneath the mirror sitting in front of you. You wipe it down with a sanitized wipe before kicking off your shoes, plugging in your earbuds, and getting right to the warm-up stretches. 

Aizawa can’t help but watch, noticing how flexible you are. The way you bend this way and that, your muscles moving with every pose, makes his cock grow embarrassingly hard in his sweats.

The air between you is tense and thick with something he can’t quite describe: Awkwardness? Definitely. Desire? Possibly, on his side. He just can’t help himself when he begins to acknowledge how good you look in yoga pants. 

He quickly looks away, instead opting to look towards the empty treadmills on the other side of the room. What he wouldn’t give to get a handful of your ass, squeeze and spank the firm yet soft cheeks, and stroke that tail that invades his nightly thoughts.

Maybe you’d let him dig his fingers into the hole of your pants and rip it further, revealing the cute little panties hiding underneath. Or maybe you’d have none on at all. It would give Aizawa the perfect chance to pull those asscheeks apart and finally put his face in it as his tongue relishes the taste of your sweet, perfect, wet little– 

“Mind if I use these?” you ask, suddenly next to him. He nearly jumps, finding you pointing at the eight lb dumbbells that Mic left.

He finds his voice after swallowing the lump in his throat. “Go ahead; I’m not usin’ ‘em.” He hopes that sounds the least bit of kind. You smile in thanks though and silently take the dumbbells from the spot Mic left them in. 

He silently and sneakily watches as you begin to do your leg and glute workouts with some dumbbell lifts added in the mix: squats; lunges; kickbacks. All done right in his face.

Do you know what you’re doing to him? Can you see the bulge growing in his sweats? Obviously not since your eyes are facing straight ahead, focusing strictly on your workout. 

‘Fuck this,’ he thinks, sexually frustrated. He isn’t going to resort to being a perv.

Quickly, he puts his dumbbells down and walks out of range to the other side of the gym farthest away from you. He walks straight up to the pull-up bar where he left his duffle bag for a specific reason. He usually goes for either cardio or dumbbells first to get his arms warmed up before proceeding with the “real” workout. 

Aizawa takes his scarves out of his duffle and carefully wraps them around the pull-up bar, making sure to pull it tight enough so the scarves don’t unravel. Once finished, he wraps his fists up in each end of the scarves and begins to do his special arm exercises. 

He uses his scarves as one would use resistance bands to build their upper arm strength, doing warmups to get the blood flowing in his arms. He concentrates on his bicep and tricep curls, and wrist exercises to keep his arms limber yet controlled, sweat beginning to drip into his eyes from how hard he’s going into his workout.

He is finally able to focus on something other than you. ‘Thank God.’ 

Feeling like his arms are warmed up enough, he grips his scarves into his fists and pulls himself up, his arms clenching from his full body weight. He straightens his arms and crosses one foot over the other as he straightens his back.

He envisions himself on a tightrope, forcing himself to stay still despite his arms beginning to rest since they’re the only things holding him up. 

Grunting softly from the burn in his arm muscles, he relaxes his arms only to slowly flip backward, his movements controlled from many years of training. He finally lands back on his feet, bending his knees slightly to avoid injuring himself.

When he releases his scarves, his hands are red and his fingers ache from gripping them so tightly. He’s gotten used to that though. It is what comes with the pains of being a pro. 

“That was really cool,” you suddenly say from behind him in the mirror. Your eyes are trained straight on him, wide with astonishment.

He turns around, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat out of his eyes. “Sorry!” You blurt, looking ashamed at your staring. “I’ve just never seen anyone do that before. You work out with your scarves?” 

He notices the way your fluffy ears droop in embarrassment and he smirks to himself. “To keep myself familiar with ‘em,” he huffs before taking a sip of his water. “And to come up with new techniques. It never hurts to rehearse from time to time.”

He goes to take a seat on the floor to proceed with some push-ups, but as he does, a searing pain enters his lower back that makes him hiss. You stare on, concerned. “Just my back,” he reassures you. “Don’t worry about it.” The last thing he wants is for you to see him as old or decrepit. 

But his body betrays him once again as he tries to get into position, a sharp pain in his lower back stabbing him. “Ah, shit!” he swears, his hand immediately flying to his lower back to rub at the ache.

It doesn’t help at all. He must’ve not done as much stretching earlier as he’d hoped. He glances at you, expecting you to be laughing at him–the sight of Eraserhead suffering from back pain in his early 30s must be hilarious. 

But instead, you just look worried. “Maybe you should try this.” You slowly sit down in a crisscrossed position, your feet touching one another, and lean forward so your back is straight and your chest is touching the floor. “This pose really helps with back pain. I do this as much as I can since I sit so much during work.” 

Aizawa hesitates slightly, not wanting you to pity him. But with the way your soft eyes are coaxing him to follow, he mirrors your position anyway. As he slowly leans forward to straighten his back, he can feel some of that tension and ache beginning to evaporate. You smile in approval.

“Now stretch your arms up overhead,” you instruct him, raising your arms up to the sky. He follows, doing his best to hide back a blush. He feels like a little kid following your every move. 

“Good; now place your hands on the floor and stretch your arms out as far as you can go in front of you. Don’t push yourself.”

He follows you, raising his arms up before falling forward, his arms stretched out in front of him. He breathes deeply, allowing the stretches to do their work. He can feel the tension and aches in his muscles leaving him, his body recovering after his workout. 

“Feel good?” you ask, a smile in your voice. He hums in response, his eyes fluttering closed. “The butterfly position helps too! Looks like this.” He lifts from his position, finding you sitting upright with your hands holding your feet. Your knees begin to move up and down, mimicking those of a butterfly’s wings. 

Aizawa follows, feeling the stretch in his hamstrings and inner thighs. He raises an eyebrow at your smile like you’re trying to hold back a laugh. “You’re slouching,” you playfully giggle, rising from your seat to assist him. His heart begins to hammer in his chest as you kneel next to him. You’re so close.

“May I?” you ask, giving him a soft, round-eyed look. 

He nods, unable to speak. You move behind him and place a tentative hand on his lower back. He nearly shivers at your touch. Your hand is so warm. He wants to feel your touch everywhere.

Not to mention the scent of your shampoo. What is that? Coconut? It’s driving him insane. All he can think about is that scent being all over him after he’s done fucking you. 

“Just keep your back straight,” you utter, your breath fanning his cheek. “Grab onto your ankles for leverage if you need it.” Your voice is soft and inviting, coaxing him out of his comfort zone.

Swallowing harshly and forcing himself to not pop a boner, he does as you instruct: he straightens his back, puffs out his chest, presses his shoulders back, and grabs onto his feet. “Perfect!” you giggle, applauding him. “You’re a natural at this.” 

“So are you,” he blurts, his voice lower than normal. “A-At teaching, I mean.” You smile at the compliment as you rise to your feet. “I used to teach yoga on YouTube as a way to pay for school. I had a dream of opening up my own yoga studio, but I guess my calling was to be a counselor.” 

Aizawa commits the new info to his mental file cabinet on you. He can see you being a teacher in anything, knowing you’d do a good job with such a soft yet commanding aura. “I’ve been told my flexibility would make me a great hero,” you snicker, balling up your fists for a mock fight with him.

He chuckles, grunting as he stands. “It takes more than flexibility to be a hero.” 

You laugh at his statement, hands on your hips. “You say that even though you have back pain in your thirties,” you retort boldly, then flush with embarrassment when Aizawa raises a brow at you. “I read everyone’s birthday on the faculty birthday calendar.”

Aizawa practically melts. Why the fuck do you have to be so goddamn cute? “Back pain or not, as a seasoned professional pro, I also have strength, both upper and lower, technique, and strict control over my quirk when it comes to hand-to-hand combat. You’ll need it when you’re fighting villains.” 

You cock your head to the side, a purse in your pouty, kissable lips. “Show me some of them techniques then,” you playfully challenge, crossing your arms over your chest. “Since you’re so seasoned and so sure I don’t have what it takes.” 

Aizawa cocks a brow at you, feeling a zing of electricity shoot through him at this newfound side of you–you’re so playful and sassy. It’s fucking hot. “Alright,” he sighs, “but you don’t complain when you twist a muscle.”

He begins to walk over to the right side of the gym which is known as the training portion of the room. Several punching bags and makeshift people made out of sandbags sit there, ready to be used by any seasoned or up-and-coming pro to train for missions and fights.

Aizawa and you stand in front of a makeshift person, its head and body two heavy burlap sacks filled with sand. He turns to you, stepping into the roles of a trainer and sensei. “So, we’ll start with the basics. Start by facing your opponent and analyzing them.” 

You nod and turn to face the sandbag person, eyeing them up. He resists the urge to laugh at your cuteness. “If they have a quirk, what kind is it? Can you spot a weakness in it or your opponent’s body? Can you spot a pressure point perhaps? Maybe a place you can sink those claws into.” 

You glance at him, straight-faced. “Ha, ha,” you deadpan. "I don’t even have claws.” Aizawa thinks that’s a lie. He’d opt to find out in his bed (or yours; he ain’t too picky) while he’s balls deep inside of you and your hands are gripping his back. 

“So your opponent is coming at you,” he continues, willing the nasty thoughts away. “But you’re ready though. You’ll start by placing your foot on your least dominant side behind the foot on your dominant side.”

You do as he instructs, placing one foot behind the other. “Tilt your hips a little more so they’re angled to the side but facing me.” You attempt to do that as well, but can’t seem to angle your hips enough so they are parallel to your feet. A laugh in the form of a huff leaves his nostrils as he comes forward. 

“May I?” he asks, his eyes flicking up to yours. Silently, you nod. “Like this.”

He places his hands on your hips which is a horrible idea. Now his cock is throbbing, begging to be released from its prison in his sweats. Your skin is so warm from the slip of your stomach that he gets from your pants riding low on your waist. Your body is tense, but you don’t stop him as he twists your waist to face him and angles your hips so they are straight. 

“Now you’re gonna use your dominant leg to kick up and out, right at your opponent’s chest. Put your full weight into it.”

He steps back, allowing you to act out the move. You turn to your opponent and, with an inhale, you kick your leg up and out at the middle of your opponent’s sandbag body, grunting as you do. It barely moves. 

You turn to him with a shameful expression. “Let’s try that again,” he chuckles. “Push onto your opponent when your foot connects with their chest to push them down and away from you. Put all your weight into your leg.”

Once again, you try, letting out a forceful grunt as your foot connects with the sandbag. You push your opponent away, causing it to teeter slightly on its stand, and then fall backward. 

You gape down at it, an excited gasp leaving your lips. “I did it!” you shout in triumph, your ears and tail frazzled. He nods, crossing his muscled arms over his chest. “Not bad for a rookie,” he playfully says. “Maybe you’ve got some potential…some.” 

You turn to him, a mischievous and bold glint in your pretty, brown eyes. You purse your lips at him and lay your hands on your hips the way he wants to. “I’d say the same about you with yoga,” you retort, earning a chuckle from him and a surge from his cock.

You both stand there for a moment, staring at each other. No blinking. No talking. Just a surge of electricity that Aizawa can feel in the air. It’s intoxicating, dangerous, and so delicious. His eyes glance at your lips, zeroing in on how plump and glossy they are. He could just lean in and kiss you right now. 

His phone suddenly goes off in his back pocket, making you both jump. Growling deeply at the ruined moment, he pulls his phone out and finds the reminder he set for 5 PM. “Shit,” he hisses. “I should be cooking dinner around this time for Eri. I have to go.” 

“Oh, okay!” you reply, and he catches a glimpse of what he thinks is disappointment in your pretty eyes. Or is that just what he wants to see?

“I should be gettin’ back too,” you say, already moving to gather your things. “You just reminded me that I need to start cooking too before I end up ordering takeout again.”

Aizawa watches you, his heart clenching painfully. He doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want this moment to end with you. Can’t it just last a minute longer? “I could walk you back to your dorm if you want,” he suggests with a passive shrug. “It’s only safe.”

He keeps his tone tight and easy, but he’s dying for you to say yes. You look at him wide-eyed, shocked that he even offered. The little smile and nod you give him just about fills him to the brim with relief. So you don’t think that he’s a creep. 'Great start. 

After you both gather your things, Aizawa collects Eri from the playroom, finding her sleeping on the floor. “Time to go home, puddin’,” he whispers to her as he scoops her up into his arms. She sleepily groans, her head lulling against his chest.

Her eyes then flutter open to stare up at him. “Daddy, why are you smiling so much?” she groggily asks. He shushes her in response. 

Luckily, the little girl falls right back to sleep as Aizawa accompanies you on your journey to your dorm. It doesn’t take long, but the last few minutes of feeling you beside him are all he needs. When you finally make it to your door, you give him a grateful smile. “Thanks for walking me back.” 

He nods silently, willing himself to say something more. He thinks back to Mic’s words, conjuring up all the confidence he can muster to ask for your number. “Um, maybe we can do this again sometime?” he asks, a shy blush adorning his cheeks. “Just in case you ever decide to you wanna fuck up a sandbag person again.”

You blink at him, alarmingly quiet. He knew he’d fuck this up. It was all wishful thinking. Damn Mic and his advice! “O-Or you don’t have to,” he quickly adds. “No pressure. I just thought that–” 

“I’d like that,” you interrupt, giving him a dazzling smile. “I can give you my number or…” You trail off, looking just as shy.

Relief floods Aizawa’s body as he gives you his number instead, his heart pounding as you type his digits into your contacts. That’s all it took, and yet Aizawa feels like he just walked on the moon. “See you tomorrow then,” he mumbles, abruptly turning on his heel to avoid grinning like an idiot at you.

“Shouta, wait!” you suddenly shout. He abruptly stops and turns to face you, finding you to still be standing at your door. “I-I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” you weakly say.

He blinks at you, noticing how nervous you suddenly look. His stomach immediately plummets, wondering what the flip in your demeanor could mean. Are you having second thoughts about his number? Are you with someone already? 

Finally, you sigh, your shoulders slumping in defeat. “Nevermind; just be safe.”

You give him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes before you turn, unlock your door, and disappear into your dorm. Aizawa doesn’t have time to ponder what just happened. He silently walks back to his dorm with Eri in his arms and dinner on his mind, expecting a quiet, normal end to the night. 

However, when he arrives at his door and spots the little black cat that has stolen Eri’s heart sitting by his dorm door, he realizes that tonight will be anything but normal.

“Look, Eri,” he coos, smiling down at your little cat form as you push your furry body into his legs, your trail curling around his ankles. 

“Our visitor is back.”

[takeshitakyuuto]

Trigun Book Club update volume 2/3/who knows

One more week until Trigun Maximum! Then my volume numbers won’t be off :’)

I feel like every time I sat down to read this time around, I got interrupted. Anyways, this is a long one, so buckle up

Ch 13. get his ass cobbler-san

Yaaaaaay ice cream on Vash! Me too me too!

Quite the introduction for Mr. Collarbones

I’m sorry that it’s just kinda funny to me whenever characters call Vash by his full name. That’s Mr. ヴァッシュ・ザ・スタンピード to you

Knives! Your reputation precedes you

I love when Vash puts on his shooting glasses and immediately my spotify switches to FFXIV battle music

Okay so maybe I kinda spoiled myself probably not really, since the beginning I’ve had the question (that the reader is obviously supposed to have) of why does Vash have such a big bounty on his head, but I saw someone say that he’s the Jesus character of Trigun and like. okay question answered I know enough about Christianity to fill in the blanks here, anyways with that it mind it’s really interesting to see how Vash mentions that his goal is to send Knives to hell

This guy kinda reminds me of that guy from Yu Gi Oh. Kaiba? Yeah Kaiba

12 pieces of coin, twelve assassins, twelve disciples. im making big brain connections here (joking)

There’s a ...head in that bag? [insert “so no head” gif]

Ch 13.5 [I think this is an extra chapter] i like the little background we’re getting on Vash and the visuals with him standing over the mass amounts of crosses like a graveyard is really cool

Alright cut it out Nightow we don’t need to get weird here

Even though I rarely read manga digitally anymore, I feel so spoiled with how much manga is published online nowadays. These very obvious scans of paper volumes is so much harder to read, I’m sounding out like half the words I read

You know that chapter of Kino’s Journey (okay I know you don’t bear with me here) where Kino goes to that country where everyone is obsessed with this one guy’s painting of tanks and they’re all like “it says so much about war and society” and then Kino meets the painter and he’s all like “nah I just think tanks are really cool”. Yeah that painter is Nightow

Which is more elegant, this girl’s dress of Vash’s coat tails?

Has Vash always worn an earring? Have I just never noticed? I see but don’t look? How coquette

The interspersed English that Nightow uses always adds a bit of humor. I’m not even a translator but sometimes I think about what I would do with those bits. Would I keep it to make extra work? Would I translate it into a different language that’s more commonly understood than Japanese but not English (such as Spanish)? Translations are weird man....

Vash has the best pouting face of all time

Okay sorry I said a lot in that chapter but I don’t think any of it was serious. Not that that was a very important chapter anyways, other than the bits of world building we got at the very beginning

Volume three! Ch 14. Omg I see that big cross in the cover. Do we get to meet Nicholas Wolfwood himself? God I hope I’m right and he’s the one with the cross because I’m blasting this post for the Trigun Scholars to see. Blease be kind I know so little

Seems like this volume or at least this chapter is going to be a lot of Vash vs Kaiba

So we’re seeing Rem’s death scene and how it displays her love for humanity, sacrificing herself to save some, even if she can’t save everyone. And seeing that Knives has been a bit fucked from the beginning huh. And why Vash hates him so much (cue Losing My Religion by REM playing in the back)

Vash is typically painted as an angelic type of character (thinking back to chapter nine[?] with the angel/plant they met on the sand steam) so having him depicted more as a devil character is really interesting. They even called this his true nature, although that could just be this villain character giving him shit. I’m excited to see how Vash’s character is fleshed out in future volumes and how these seemingly two sides of him create a whole

Ch 15. I don’t know (yet?) if Knives’ plan was to kill Rem along with a bunch of humans but damn. backfiredddd

So this spirit/angel urging Vash not to kill must be Rem right? Since he said that if he kills here, she’ll be gone for real? I’m taking this to be more of Vash’s memory of her and not a literal angel or spirit

Ch 16. I was totally about to rag on them for having all this insane technology and Meryl still having to use a typewriter but then I remembered that this series is from what. the 80s? Earlier? Honestly who could’ve imagined the technology we’d have in just twenty years from then, it’s insane.

Oh that’s cool! Vash is called “Humanoid Typhoon” right? It’s usually written as 「人間台風」which literally translates to human typhoon but at the beginning of this chapter, Meryl calls him 「人間災害」with furigana instructing the reader to read it as “humanoid typhoon” (same as with the other times), however this translates to “human disaster” rather than typhoon

One coin part down, eleven to go...

We’ve finally officially established that Vash has a prosthetic arm, I was wondering when that was gonna happen

First of all what is Vash carrying with him second of all holy shit that panel of the person(?) nailed on the cross

That thing was set up specifically for him? Is this another one of the twelve assassins? I feel like I’m gonna get bored of this set up real quick if it continues on like this

oh man I’m struggling with the blurriness of this volume, I keep messing up さ and き in the furigana and if anything’s got a dakuten I’m a gonner

Ch 17. I bet these poor citizens see someone in an over the top ridiculous outfit and just think to themselves, aw man this bitch is about to blow up the city again. Good thing I renewed my insurance last month

Yaoi proportions are back!

Having the guy who’s pissing you off rip out his own still-beating heart with his own bare hands is pretty badass ngl

Is Kaiba (okay I know his name is Legato but this is funnier) trying to bring about the apocalypse or something? Or rather eradicate enough humans to be able to live peacefully, whether that means all humans or just the ones he considers “evil”? Right now he’s giving me a lot of Light Yagami vibes

Ch 18. Cross guyyyyyy hell yeah. You know, maybe you wouldn’t collapse in the street if you didn’t carry a big ass cross with you everywhere. Just food for thought

Wolfwood speaks in Kansaiben???? Help I’m falling in love it’s my one weakness in this world

I’ve decided that I never want to see Wolfwood written in katakana ever again.

Wolfwood just needs to say あかん and ホンマ and I’m already head over heels

I really like Wolfwood and I promise it’s more than just the Kansaiben! I love how nice he is and he seems to be able to read people pretty well and also he’s kind of a dork. But the Kansaiben helps too

Ch 19. Omg the one guy who I was immediately like 🫵 yaoi proportions ended up being Hornfreak. Yep that’s just how it is

Isn’t it so fun when words you learned from anime pop up elsewhere? There’s “human trafficking,” which I learned from Yona of the Dawn

Oh? It’s Dominique not Dominic? That explains the かしら. Honestly I do like Nightow’s style of “I can’t tell what gender this person is”

Nightow also really likes drawing Vash ass up this is not the time for a dirty joke

Oh my god hes going super sayan also oh my god im so stupid i just closed out of my trigun tab trying to switch jfc

Ch 20. The cat stepped on my laptop and flipped all the images omfg I am having such a time trying to read today oh my god I can’t get it back I guess I’ll just restart my laptop for now? holy shit

Yeah okay closing out of the site didn’t help, restarting my laptop didn’t help, all files were flipped, but luckily someone suggested clearing the cookies for that site and it actually worked. I am so bad with technology. What a ridiculous day.

I’m gonna be honest I don’t know how you all can read this in English, I could only figure out who was speaking based on the fact that Legato used だ where Wolfwood would’ve used や

Lol jump for your coin bitch (Vash I love you but it’s funny I’m sorry)

Wolfwood’s 「ちう」is causing me so much stress. What the hell does that mean, boy. Luckily I have friends in high places (Japan)

I’m so obsessed with the fucked up angel imagery here in Knives’ rebirth

Please no romance between Meryl and Vash please no romance between Meryl and Vash please no r

Guy who only reads shoujo manga: I’m getting a lot of shoujo manga vibes from this (no but really, there’s a bunch of artistic choices in Trigun that I mostly associate with shoujo manga, but I think it has more to do with the age of the manga. Probably Ikeda Riyoko’s influence)

Knives is such an overdramatic bitch, I love that

Angel Vash! The inherent danger of the divine! Although a god can be kind it can also be cruel! Power can be used in many ways and thus is its danger!

We’ve finally established that Vash and this power that Knives brings out of him is the reason why July Town was destroyed. This is probably also the reason why he’s got such a high price on his head

Also really enjoying the implications that these human forms aren’t Vash’s and Knives’ “true” bodies

Extra chapter. Thank god he didn’t shoot the egg oh my god. The irony of consistently taking the lord’s name in vain so much here (term used ironically but also because what else can I say) while reading Nightow’s bible fanfiction just now hit me

I admit it, I totally skimmed that. In my defense, it’s past midnight.

Final thoughts: Having officially finished up the original trilogy, that was pretty damn good! The ending was great (yes, I know there’s much more to go) and quite bittersweet. The pace really picked up for me in this last volume. My only main issue was just friction between me and the genre, which is no one’s fault but my own. I could definitely do for less action scenes, but again, my favorite genre is the “nothing happens” genre. I’m really excited to see where Trigun Maximum takes the series, especially in the ways that these angels/plants are developed. I’m also excited to see more of Knives and Wolfwood and especially how they both interact with Vash, since they obviously have extremely different perceptions of him. I’m not quite sure where the plot is going to go from here, since it seems like Vash took Knives along with him in his disappearance, but I’ll follow Nightow wherever he leads us in this series. What I’m not looking forward to is having to read more of Nightow’s handwriting. God. Even so, somehow it’s still not the worst I’ve seen from mangaka. Oh, also, there was significantly less of that black cat than I expected. I’ll just assume it comes back in Maximum. And (sorry these thoughts are so unordered) wow the art was so stunning, especially there at the end, that I definitely have half a mind to pick up the physicals for my personal collection. Especially with a fanbase revival due to Trigun Stampede, I’d be more shocked if it’s out of print than if it isn’t. Oh and one more thing, we went through three of the twelve coin assassins. Does that mean that we’re going to go through the other nine in Maximum? Also, I’m not quite clear on why Vash has to collect the coin fragments like this is Dragon Ball (disclaimer: never seen or read any of the dragon ball franchise). Was mystical object collection just a trend back then? What’s going to happen, or supposed to, when Vash gets them all? Hopefully this will become clear as the series continues.

[estellardreams]

Sylvia the Kitsune Info Page

Name: Sylvia or S36

Age: 17 (41)

Gender: Female She/Her

Species: Kitsune (7 tails)

Universe: StH

Personality: Kind, Motherly, Overprotective, Oversensitive

History: Sylvia or S36 as her lab name, is part of an experiment known as Project Starborn which was created to learn about the different forms of magic on the planet, soon shifting to seeing if Mobians could survive without chaos magic. They were right as three different beings with three different magic types were born from the experiment; Valenta, the oldest and the holder of dark magic, Sylvia, the middle and the holder of light magic, and Star, the youngest and the holder of corruption magic.

Sylvia was the first to be properly discharged, but during her time she was treated rather nicely. Her magic was incredibly positive, helping with reinforcement and healing. She had managed to learn how to do first aid, CPR, and even self defensive combat. She’s not the best at it, but does know a few basic things.

Ever since she left, she’s treated Valenta and Star as her sisters and has always tried to help them out, even if she doesn’t agree with Val’s ideals and Star’s ethics.

Hobbies: Sewing, Cooking, Healing

Powers: Light Magic, healing energy, power blasts, flight with seven tails, levitation, heightened senses, immortality, teleportation. Light form

Feats: Has lead the resistance against the Eggman Empire, is a master healer and seamstress

Orientation: Gynromantic/Ace

MBTI: ENFP

Enneagram: 9

Zodiac: Cancer

Height: 3’7.5’’

Character Type: Flight

Magic Type: Light

Favorite Food/Drink: Vanilla Ice Cream

Sylvia is very good at leadership in certain situations. However she mostly plays medic

Because she stopped aging, Sylvia only has seven tails. She’s meant to have nine.

Sylvia is a skilled seamstress. She’s always wanted to open up a fashion business

Despite not having the time, she had created all of her clothes and sold other pieces thanks to fashion commissions

Sylvia can’t draw her fashion out. She just envisions it

Sylvia doesn’t have much control over her Light Form

Sylvia’s magic presents itself as cyan instead of it’s usual yellow, which is actually faintly weaker compared to it’s meant to be color

Sylvia loves orchestral music

Preferably Piano, Acoustic, and Music Box songs

Sylvia studies gemstones and relics often. Her favorite rock is an Aura Quartz

[greatdevourer1231954]

Trolls

With and powerful strength, enormous size and repugnant smell, Trolls are not a race you wish to fight if you are a simple mortal.

Who are they

As far as people know, Nordic literature, art and music from the romantic era and onwards had adapted trolls in various manners – They can be depicted as ugly, slow-witted, or behave like human beings. The meaning of the word troll is unknown, though they are defined in Swedish Mythology as "natural beings" and as "all-purpose worldly beings".

In Norse folklore, Trolls are said to dwell in isolated mountains, rocks, and caves, sometimes living together. They are rarely described as friendly or helpful and they are mostly considered dangerous threats to humans. In Scandinavian Mythology, Trolls are usually described as extremely old, very strong, but slow and dim-witted and they are, at times, man-eaters and will turn to stone upon making contact with sunlight.

Origins

In my AU, there are two different types of Trolls: the Fake-Trolls and the True-Trolls.

The ones Kratos fought and killed in God of War (2018) are Fake-Trolls, they can be identified by not having a tail, possessing a set of tusks and above all they skin does not turn into stone.

Fake-Trolls in terms of genetic are surprisingly very close related to humans and other members of the homo genus, however, due to living in a world where dragons and other giant predators existed, the ancestors of Trolls evolved to become bigger, stronger and more aggressive to adapt and survive in the nine realms ecosystem.

They are also divided into three subspecies:

-Fire Trolls natives to the realm of Muspelheim capable to use and manipulate fire

-Frost Trolls natives to Nilfheim able to manipulate ice.

-Stone Trolls natives to Midgard whoses skin have a second layer made of stones and rocks.

History

Trolls are violent creatures that are aggressive towards everyone they cross paths with, but despite their hostility and apparent brutality, Trolls seem to be intelligent creatures since they are capable of speech and have their own native tongue, as well as having their own tribes where they are born and raised. Trolls can also be prideful, as a specific Frost Troll called himself Stonebeard King out of confidence in his combat prowess.

But they weren’t always savages, in fact, Trolls were once a powerful and advanced civilization, having a series of settlements and cities all across Midgard and the rest of the Nine Realms. However, they were betrayed by the Aesir at some point in their history, leading to a catastrophic collapse of their society and a massive extinction of their race, leaving only a few of them scattered all across the Realms.

Status

As far as people know, Trolls are practically extinct in the wild, with few members still alive, however there are rumors about some few tribes prospering.

Abilities

Element empowerment: All Trolls have massive strength, durability, and stamina, being able to take several hits from enemies much stronger. This power is granted thanks to the specific element from the rune on their totems, massive weapons they use to crush enemies, which allows them to strengthen and enhance their powers.

With Fire Trolls being able to shoot flames from their hands and stomp the ground to melt the earth, and Frost Trolls being able to freeze their surroundings and slam the earth to send ice shard shockwaves.

One thing to note is that the stronger the Troll, the greater is the elemental spread in the it’s body and intensity of the runic glow in the totem.

Stronger Fire Trolls possess burnt skin with reddish markings covering both their body and totem, can burn through contact, and their totems are cracked with fiery energy. Likewise, stronger Frost Trolls possess bluish skin, frozen hair, ice tusks, expel large amounts of freezing energy, and their glowing totems are covered with rock-solid ice.

In battle, the Stone Trolls can generate blinding ash from their hands and can slam the ground with their granite totems to create surrounding blinding grenades from the earth.

Hibernation: Troll also have the ability to enter a hibernation state where they remain unmovable but are apparently still conscious as they continue to be aware of their surroundings.

Element imbuement:  Stone Trolls can imbue themselves with elemental power without the need of carving their totems with runes; it is believed that this is due to the stones in their body being capable of absorbing the heat around then.

Conclusion

Trolls are an aggressive and intelligent race, yet the collapse of their civilization caused by the Aesirs, is proof that there are far more dangerous monsters out there than the trolls.

[nvrcmplt]

Foxian - HSR Lightning - Path of Nihility Bing Yan - Owner of the Xiqu Performance Group

Family Name :: Lu - 吕 (lǚ) meaning "musical note" Male Alias :: Bingyan 冰岩 - 冰 (Bing) meaning "Cold, Ice" and /. 岩 (Yan) meaning "Cliff, Rocks" Stage Name :: Baoyong 葆咏 - 葆 (bǎo) meaning "reserve, preserve" and 咏 (yǒng) meaning "sing song". Race :: Foxian Occupation :: Owner of the Xiqu Performance Group

Lu Lánzé 藍泽 ( 藍 (lán) meaning "blue" combined with, 泽 (zé) meaning "lake/swamp" ), "Musical notes of the blue lake" is the troupes name, represented by an etching of a golden mountain upon a crystalline blue lake - the reflection of the mountain is that of a nine-tailed fox sitting poised.

Bingyan is the Head scriptwriter and top performer of his merry band of thousands for the entertainment of Xianzhou Luofu public on its surface. Underneath their grand name and talents on a stage to tell the stories of time and myth, He harbours deep pockets with an addiction to gambling and making bets on life around him for entertainment of his own.

Giving his support to those with interesting tales of their lives, the poorer, the better he is invested to witness them either grow but mostly fall into his debt interest. One being, Qian - gave him a run for his money and even paid him back with interest, shutting up his love for the despairing try-hards.

Now his interest lies in Qian's gambling den, happy to spend thousands of his name for the thrill of watching Qian in his element. You could say he's awaiting the man's downfall in such a seedy place with front row seats.

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

Western Animated Movie Sequel Timeline

For reference... On how few theatrical animated movie sequels were made in the West vs. how many have been made since the early 2000s... (Streaming titles like THE SEA BEAST 2 will be included, because these are big budget enough to have been theatrical releases.)

Titles highlighted in blue have commas in them, this denotes that you're not looking at two separate titles. (Just in case you happen to not know-)

I also won't include reboots. For example: The upcoming Paramount Animation film TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES: MUTANT MAYHEM, which despite being a TMNT movie, it has no other relation to the Imagi Studios 2007 TMNT movie. The same goes for the two SMURFS reboots, 2017's THE LOST VILLAGE and Paramount's untitled upcoming musical.

I'll also leave out animated movies that are part of franchises that are largely live-action, like STAR WARS: THE CLONE WARS.

1972: SNOOPY, COME HOME

1974: THE NINE LIVES OF FRITZ THE CAT

1976: RACE FOR YOUR LIFE, CHARLIE BROWN

1980: BON VOYAGE, CHARLIE BROWN (AND DON'T COME BACK!!)

1986: THE CARE BEARS MOVIE II: THE NEXT GENERATION

1987: THE CARE BEARS IN WONDERLAND

1990: THE RESCUERS DOWN UNDER

1991: AN AMERICAN TAIL: FIEVEL GOES WEST

1996: ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN 2

1997: THE SWAN PRINCESS II: ESCAPE FROM CASTLE MOUNTAIN

1999: TOY STORY 2, FANTASIA 2000

2000: THE TIGGER MOVIE, RUGRATS IN PARIS: THE MOVIE

2002: RETURN TO NEVER LAND

2003: PIGLET'S BIG MOVIE, THE JUNGLE BOOK 2, LOONEY TUNES: BACK IN ACTION

2004: SHREK 2

2005: POOH'S HEFFALUMP MOVIE

2006: ICE AGE: THE MELTDOWN

2007: SHREK THE THIRD

2008: MADAGASCAR: ESCAPE 2 AFRICA

2009: ICE AGE: DAWN OF THE DINOSAURS

2010: SHREK FOREVER AFTER, TOY STORY 3

2011: HOODWINKED TOO! HOOD VS. EVIL, KUNG FU PANDA 2, CARS 2, PUSS IN BOOTS, HAPPY FEET TWO

2012: MADAGASCAR 3: EUROPE'S MOST WANTED, ICE AGE: CONTINENTAL DRIFT

2013: MONSTERS UNIVERSITY, DESPICABLE ME 2, THE SMURFS 2, PLANES, CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE OF MEATBALLS 2

2014: RIO 2, HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2, PENGUINS OF MADAGASCAR

2015: THE SPONGEBOB MOVIE: SPONGE OUT OF WATER, MINIONS, HOTEL TRANSYLVANIA 2

2016: KUNG FU PANDA 3, FINDING DORY, ICE AGE: COLLISION COURSE

2017: THE LEGO BATMAN MOVIE, CARS 3, THE NUT JOB 2: NUTTY BY NATURE, THE LEGO NINJAGO MOVIE

2018: SHERLOCK GNOMES, INCREDIBLES 2, HOTEL TRANSYLVANIA 3: SUMMER VACATION, RALPH BREAKS THE INTERNET

2019: THE LEGO MOVIE 2: THE SECOND PART, HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON: THE HIDDEN WORLD, THE SECRET LIFE OF PETS 2, TOY STORY 4, FARMAGEDDON: A SHAUN THE SHEEP MOVIE, FROZEN II

2020: TROLLS WORLD TOUR, THE SPONGEBOB MOVIE: SPONGE ON THE RUN, THE CROODS: A NEW AGE

2021: SPIRIT UNTAMED, THE BOSS BABY: FAMILY BUSINESS, SPACE JAM: A NEW LEGACY, THE ADDAMS FAMILY 2, SING 2

2022: HOTEL TRANSYLVANIA: TRANSFORMANIA, LIGHTYEAR, MINIONS: THE RISE OF GRU, ERNEST & CELESTINE: A TRIP TO GIBBERITIA, PUSS IN BOOTS: THE LAST WISH

2023: SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE, PAW PATROL: THE MIGHTY MOVIE, TROLLS BAND TOGETHER, CHICKEN RUN: DAWN OF THE NUGGET

2024: KUNG FU PANDA 4, SPIDER-MAN: BEYOND THE SPIDER-VERSE, INSIDE OUT 2, DESPICABLE ME 4

UNDATED: TOY STORY 5, FROZEN III, ZOOTOPIA 2, THE LEGO MOVIE 3, SHREK 5, THE CROODS 3, THE BOSS BABY 3, THE SECRET LIFE OF PETS 3, UNTITLED SPONGEBOB MOVIE, UNTITLED ZUKO AVATAR FILM, UNTITLED KYOSHI AVATAR FILM, UNTITLED KORRA AVATAR FILM, THE SEA BEAST 2, UNTITLED WALLACE & GROMIT FILM

If I missed any, feel free to let me know... it's an ever-updating list.

[violethursday]

A list of OCs I've made for the past few years (OC dump)

Just as the title says, I'm gonna info dump on some OCs I've made since 2019. Also I just want to share my OCs with everyone.

Hikari (Naruto)- First OC I made after I watched Naruto for the first time. She's the fourth member of Team 7 (pretty cliche) and had this thunder-wave themed kekkei genkai. I'm pretty sure Hikari was just my self-insert.

Shizuyo Tsubaki (Demon Slayer)- She's the ice hashira and the cousin of Kagaya Ubuyashiki. Also, she's the lover of Kyojuro Rengoku (cause of the whole fire & ice dynamic y'know.) Originally she was gonna be half demon via her mom but after some consideration I was like, "nah."

Fuyuko Uzui (Also Demon Slayer)- Fuyuko is the newer version of Shizuyo except she's Uzui's younger sister, so yeah.

Misato Kujo (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure)- She used to be another OC named Yoshika Kira, the younger sister of Yoshikage Kira. Misato is Jotaro Kujo's twin sister who also had a stand (still trying to make the stand.) Misato is sort of a mix between the "deliquent" and the "popular girl."

Philippa/Phoebe Wittebane (The Owl House)- Philippa is the genderbent clone daughter of Philip Wittebane AKA Emperor Belos. She doesn't interact with Hunter that much because Belos doesn't want the two to rebel against him (yet he makes her go to Hexide in season 1.) As of right now I'm thinking of giving her powers either by Belos making a artificial magic byle sack, or Belos using half of the bones of my deceased Collector OC. This would cause Philippa to gain Belos' curse and maybe the Collector OC's powers. Philippa was originally gonna be a Frankenstein-like character of a human that went to the Boiling Isles before Luz, and a witch that are both dead. She would've been stitched together which cursed magic thread and would sometimes have Belos-like ooze leaking out of said stitches. She would've also worked alongside Hunter as the "silver guard."

The Keeper (Also The Owl House)- The Keeper is the older sister of the Collector who was manipulated into being killed by Belos to make his clone. When the Collector saw Philippa when he was in their physical form, he mistakened Philippa as the Keeper.

Antonina "Nina" Pixis (Attack On Titan)- She's the youngest kid of Dot Pixis who would work in the Survey Corps. Nina would've saved Marco Bott after the Marley gang left him to die (and Nina and Marco would eventually fall in love with each other.) Nina was originally gonna be named "Ilse" (before I found out there was lready a character in the series named Ilse) who was the adoptive sister of Annie, and she was a backup person just in case Annie was dying and someone had to inherit the Female Titan.

Karuta Senju (Naruto)- She's a newer Naruto OC I made. Karuta is the great-granddaughter of Tobirama Senju and the third cousin of Tsunade. Karuta has Tobirama's face markings, her mother's red hair (due to being an Uzumaki), and wood release. After her parents died from the nine tails attack, Orochimaru took her in as his pupil after discovering her wood-release abilities. Karuta would team up with Kabuto Yaksuhi as parthers (with lowkey having a rivals-to-lovers thing going on) in the Chunin Exams. In the Search For Tsunade arc, Tsunade would be saddened and shocked to find out her own third cousin betrayed the land their ancestors created.

Mallie (Splatoon 3)- Mallie is an octoling and the New Agent 3 of Splatoon 3's hero mode. She has selective mutism and only talks to Little Buddy and the rest of the Salmonoids. Mallie uses the Big Swig Roller and refuses to hurt the Salmonoids in Salmon Run.

Theta and Octavia Takowasa (Also Splatoon 3)- Theta and Octavia are the granddaughters of DJ Octavio that go by their musical duo title "Eighth Octave" (Theta- 8 in greek; Octavia- octave.) Just like the Squid Sisters they sing for the octarians but with traditional Japanese, 80s pop, and DJ tunes (basically the octarians' version of 80s Japanese city pop.) After the events of Octo Expansion, they join forces with the New Squidbeak Splatoon as they didn't see the inklings as much of a threat after Splatoon 2's hero mode.

That's all of my OCs so far. I think I worked most on Philipa Wittebane and the least on The Keeper (she's a newer OC.)

[eeveezone]

Poll time! Working on drawing more eevees & I've sketched a bunch. Which one should I finish next?

[the-letter-horror-lover]

Grace Fullbuster (my Oc)

Series: Anime Fairy tail

Age at the start of the Fairy tail series..13 years old and in the final series..15 years old.

1. Grace is generally happy about her body and it isn't a problem so she isn't bothered..Gray Fullbuster always told her growing up that she is beautiful and she should never forget that whenever she felt insecure about her body.

2. No..Grace doesn't have any secret tattoos or secret body piercings. It is obvious to the world that Grace wears flower ear piercings in her earlobes and has a 100 strength healing mark on her forehead and would soon be given the ice devil slayer magic from her father.

3. Books! Books and more books..she is an absolute bookworm at home and reading them basically keeps her occupied.

4. She generally doesn't have a favourite music genre but if she could pick anything..it would be Celtic type music..it has a certain feel to it that makes it feel her type.

5. Rock music..an unpleasant experience with it put her off it for life.

6. It is rather sweet actually..her phone lockscreen is of her older brother and her during Lucy's birthday party and it was obvious that they enjoyed themselves.

7. Size 6 is her shoe size.

8. Grace is generally not specific about a favourite fabric or material..so she is fine with anything.

9. Grace ice skates with her older brother during the winter as a favourite type of sport..it is more of an activity than a sport to them.

10. Grace and her older brother, Gray Fullbuster decorate their living space to what they both agree on since they live in the same apartment and as much as Grace loves her older brother..she doesn't want to live in a living space that only Gray would see as ideal.

11. Grace is more of a cleaner than her older brother was..(if you see how Gray's room looks like on the chapter cover..you'll see what I mean)..she doesn't want to live in a pigsty..(She cleans the rest of the apartment but leaves Gray's room alone because she respected his privacy).

12. Any..Grace's most relaxed sleeping position is on her back with her arms resting on the pillows.

13. Her toy rabbit..Gray Fullbuster's late teacher gave it to Grace when she was a toddler and the rabbit is generally white with a blue ribbon around the neck and the name of the rabbit is actually..Daisy.

14. No..she doesn't have a preference.

15. Grace's favourite dishes to cook is her late mother's cooking..it brings back forgotten memories of her past despite being too young to remember her parents back then.

16. Spicy dishes..Good and proper spicy dishes is what she hates.

17. No.

18. Her worst injury is the burn mark on her back from an fire magic accident when she was only four years old..Grace remembered crying in pain when she got caught in the crossfire of a fight between Gray Fullbuster and Natsu Dragoneel who were only nine years old at the time..and Gray never forgave himself for getting her hurt in the process.

19. Sad movies that involved the main character dying in the end and all that..

20. Nothing in particular to be honest.

21. N/A (Grace doesn't really like dancing despite being good at it)

22. White hair Ribbon from her older brother, Gray Fullbuster on her 7th birthday. She never got rid of it.

23. Grace's 7th birthday is definitely the one to remember for her..she was practically spolit rotten in regards to all her past birthdays (she was always spolit rotten for some reason.)

24. She loves her chocolate birthday cake more than anything else.

25. Cats! She loves her exceed Violet dearly.

26. N/A (she doesn't like wearing perfume)

27. Scent of blood...it brings back too many unwanted memories of her loved ones dying.

28. Someone laughing cruelly at her pain.

29. Life is strange..Grace perfers a relaxing game that doesn't involve zombies or too much blood.

30. She will read in the sunshine if she isn't so busy with her job as a ice mage or she will spend time with her friends or older brother even if it is something simple as making cookies together or walking (she occasionally sparred with whoever she could as well as practice) Gray is proud enough to show off her creations to his guild mates.

31. Her fighting style is extremely similar to Gray Fullbuster's and Sakura Harunos (Sakura Haruno in the Naruto shippuden series).

32. She wouldn't always be the one to start an argument unless something had upset her for a good reason.

33. She has a favourite outfit combining of a black skirt with light grey stitching of flowers and birds on it and a long sleeved crop top and socks that came above her knees with white ribbons on the front.

34. Not particularly.

35. She reads in bed or makes herself a herbal drink.

36. No..an embarrassing incident with make up when she was only four years old put her off cosmetics for life when she experimented with it and had to be scrubbed clean by an embarrassed nine year old Gray and it turned out that she got into Erza's make up..Gray got seriously chewed out by an angry Erza for the incident.

37. No preference..

38. Deliora killing her parents in front of her and she couldn't do a single thing about it.

39. She's too young to drive since she isn't of age.

40. She has experienced it with Juvia's younger brother who is the same age as her..Jason Lockser showed her love..time and time again.

41. She would love to get married but she's too young for it..and the last thing that she wanted was to be called a child bride. She loves Jason Lockser though..

42. She has one sibling, an older brother called Gray Fullbuster who is five years older than her..Gray had been raising her since Grace was three years old. Grace would never change anything for the world to be without her older brother..they have a close relationship.

43. Her worst quality is lying..her real worst quality is being closed off because of losing loved ones throughout her life.

44. She's a horrible liar..she went through a lot of shit in her life and if someone asked if she was alright..she will shatter in an million pieces.

45. She can keep secrets and she respected that people would want to keep personal lives private unless it causes harm to anyone.

46. People see her as a open friendly kind of person and it is right on the money about Gray's little sister..she is a likable person and everyone practically loves her dearly.

47. She gives off an aura of being open and friendly unless you're an enemy.

48. Losing her loved ones..Gray especially..Gray is the only family member she has left.

49. If she doesn't have a choice and the enemy has no chance to be redeemed whatsoever.

50. Not yet..

50 Questions to Ask About Your OC

had some help from some friends to make up fifty pretty in-depth questions to get to know your OCs better! feel free to reblog this as an ask game or use it to develop your own crew

1. Are they happy with their body? 2. Do they have any secret piercings or tattoos? 3. Do they collect anything? 4. What is their favorite music genre? 5. What music genre, if any, do they hate the most? 6. What is their phone background/lock screen? 7. What is their shoe size? 8. Do they have a favorite fabric or texture? 9. Do they have a favorite professional sport? 10. How do they decorate their living space? 11. Are they messy, or do they clean up? 12. What’s their preferred sleeping position? 13. Did they have a favorite comfort item as a child? 14. Do they have a favorite period in history? 15. Can they cook? What’s their favorite thing to make? 16. What food do they hate eating? 17. Do they have any allergies? 18. What was their worst injury? 19. What movie is most likely to make them cry? 20. What movie or book could they watch/read a hundred times and never get tired of? 21. Can they dance? Do they like to? 22. What was their favorite birthday gift? 23. Which birthday do they look back on the most fondly? 24. What kind of cake or birthday treat would they prefer? 25. What is their favorite animal? 26. Do they wear perfume/cologne? What is their favorite scent? 27. What smell do they hate the most? 28. What sound do they hate the most? 29. What video game would appeal to them the best? 30. How would they relax on a day off/rainy day? 31. Are they combative? What is their fighting style? 32. Would they be the one to start an argument? 33. What is their personal style? Favorite outfit? 34. Do they have a dream job? 35. What do they do if they can’t fall asleep? 36. Do they wear makeup regularly? If they don’t, would they consider wearing any? 37. Do they prefer to be really cold or really warm? 38. What recurring dream do they keep having? 39. Can they drive? What vehicles are they licensed to operate? 40. Do they believe in true love? Have they experienced it? 41. Are they married? Do they want to be? 42. If they have siblings, do they like any of them? Would they rather be an only child? 43. What do they think is their worst quality? What is their actual worst quality? 44. Do they lie often? Are they good at it? 45. Are they good at keeping secrets? 46. How do others see them? How accurate is it to how they really are? 47. What kind of first impression do they usually make? 48. What are they most afraid of? 49. Would they ever kill anybody? 50. Do they have original characters of their own?

[theauthorsarchive]

Statement 1: The Music

[CLICK]

Hello…Hello…Test,test,one,two,three�� Alrighty.

My name is Zaine Allgood. I am currently a college student and an aspiring writer. Throughout my life I had seen and heard of strange things: ghosts, monsters, etcetera. I have decided for the time being to compile stories I have heard and maybe even some personal experiences. 

To begin I would like to talk about an experience that stuck with me all these years. This story takes place when i was really young so sorry in advance for the vivid nature of the story. 

I was eight or maybe ten when this first happened. I lived with my parents in my grandparents' home. Times were hard and my parents were very young. I lived across the street from my elementary school so I usually walked there myself with my parents usually standing across the street for safety. 

I wasn't the most social butterfly, even today I have my struggles, but the friends I did have were loyal enough, all and all a very normal if not socially anxious childhood. 

However, one day I had a play for class. It was a retelling of some old fairy tail story. I was proud because I had somehow managed the part of the main antagonist, Mr Naughty Bones. After the play had ended around nine all of the children left with their parents. But mine were probably held up at work. 

The teachers knew where I lived and saw no problem with me crossing the street by myself. I was nervous of course being a small child alone at night. But I feared talking to people more than I feared kidnappers. So I trudged along at night to my house. 

When all of a sudden I heard a strange song it sounded like an organ, only the notes were like an ice cream truck. I tried to turn back to my school to see if the theater was still playing music but all the lights had turned off. 

Curiosity got the better of me and I followed the music. As I got closer and closer to the sound it began to warp. From  cheerful whistles it instead became gloomy and distorted. Eventually I found myself in front of an old building towards the back of the school. 

It was dilapidated and rust covered. Without a second thought I walked to the front of the door and put my hand around the handle. Inside was a shed filled with old balls and other playthings. The shed was claustrophobic with a high ceiling and tight walls. The music came from the darkest part of the shed in the back. 

The air inside was cold and stuffy. I entered and called out for anyone. Out came a clown. It was dressed in a dirty white costume, too tight for its body - it had frills on its collar and sleeves. Its face…its face was shiny and reflective, like it was made of plastic. It was taller than me by quite a few feet, almost hunching in the shed. It stared at me before stretching out a hand it stretched to an impossible length. Its hand was leathery and wrinkled like an old glove that didn't fit.

I stared at the hand in front of me and strangely enough I took it. The hand wrapped its fingers around me; they seemed to wrap like a snake. Tight and claustrophobic it began to pull me closer to it. The arm recoils into its body like a fishing line. Its face remained the same but its eyes were the worst part, like the eyes on a doll. 

I began to scream for help, kicking and trying to escape from my captor. As I did the music began to become louder. I realized the music was coming from the clown, from inside it, from inside its mouth, from inside its stomach. I got so close to it that I could see that its face was a mask. Underneath it was a mess of teeth and flesh, like paper mache from the darkest pits. 

Then I felt something tug on my other arm. I turned and saw my father. He was screaming and took something out of his pocket. It was his knife he turned it upside down and stabbed it through the clown's hand. It made no sound as it cut through flesh. It let go and lept above us and ran, the music following as it fled. 

The police were called after that, my father made up a story about a kidnapper in the shed. The police asked me questions but i didn't say a word, naturally they put it off as shock. Afterwards my parents sued the school for child endangerment. We won and the money went towards moving out of my grandparents. The knife left a mark in my hand from where my father stabbed. Ironically it left a scar in the shape of a smile.

[CLICK] 

[CLICK]

If you have any stories you want to share please submit to KewlzDude@gmail.com. Where I will review and possibly record them. Thanks for listening, this has been your host Zaine. 

[CLICK]

[kumihc]

@pvremichigan​ x

“Haha holy fuck what does that mean?”

David stood there like a statue, nervous beads of sweat forming on his temple as his glance held quite a bit of concern for the other.

“Are you having a stroke, sir?”

...Ah. He was still in his male form. Awkward, this was usually the persona he put on as an idol. Whatever, he could still work with this. 

“You know... you’re here, I’m here. I’m advertising, you look gullible. What do you think... about going to a pop concert in the area?”