#OR AM I JUST. PROJECTING AND HOPE IT WORKS

[bluzebub19]

I have a request for how the Arcane characters (Viktor, Jayce, Jinx, Vi, Heimerdinger, Ekko) look so that the reader can access their cuteness. Maybe they are doing or saying something to the reader and the reader suddenly starts hugging and petting them, calling them cute. How would they react to this?

Note: So... I'm the only one who thinks Heimerdinger is really cute. Why aren't there fanfics with him? Mysteries of life..

Arcane characters being called cute by their s/o while they're working

Writer's note: Thanks for requesting! It took longer than I expected because I kept deleting some of the dialogue from how cheesy and cringe it sounded lmao. Heimerdinger is not on my list of characters I write for, but I figured I'll write him this one time. I hope you don't mind that I also added Mylo, cuz why not?

Request/s: Open!

Warning/s: Get a dentist. This is some tooth-rotting fluff. Not proofread and english isn't my native language.

Character/s: Viktor, Jayce, Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Heimerdinger and Mylo

● Viktor tends to get lost in his work, mumbling equations or sketching out blueprints for his projects. You find this incredibly endearing, but not when he gets so absorbed that he forgets to eat or sleep.

● If you suddenly hug him or call him cute, he’ll freeze in shock at first. He blinks up at you as if you just said something in a language he doesn’t understand. Then, his cheeks will flush a light pink, and he’ll chuckles softly. “Cute is... not a term I hear often. But thank you."

● Over time, he grows more comfortable and secretly enjoys the affection. He may even lean into it, but he’ll never outright admit it. Instead, he might deflect with a shy smile and, “You should focus on more important matters."

● Yeah no, that's a sign for you to keep doing it.

● Jayce is the golden boy—confident, charming, and ridiculously handsome. He likes to appear professional and put-together, but you know him well enough to see through that exterior to the dorky, hardworking man beneath.

● When you hug him out of nowhere while he cooks and call him cute, he blinks for a second but chuckles as he turns to look at you. “Cute? Babe, I’m going for ruggedly handsome and sweet here. But I'll take it."

● Still, he's flattered and loves the affection you give him. And unlike Viktor, he's not afraid or shy to show you he wants more of it. He might pull you closer and say, "You're one to talk." He's a romantic and albeit cheesy guy.

● Now, you probably might be thinking about why and how is he cooking, but that's for another headcanon! (I just realized how I'm not even sure whose side am I on. Can he cook?? Cuz I feel like he can. But I also see him burning food-)

● Jinx, as we all know, is pure chaos, always working on something explosive or messing around. She has a habit of humming and singing off-key to herself while she works, which makes you think she’s oddly cute in her own... quirky way. To be honest, it’s hard not to find her enthusiasm contagious, even if it’s a little dangerous.

● One day, you catch her doing exactly that while painting her trademark designs on one of her grenades. The sight just makes you smile as you walk up and wrap your arms around her, telling her, “You’re so cute when you’re focused like this,” or something of the sort.

● She’ll throw her hands up and turn to look at you, trying to play off your compliment as a joke. “Woah, you might be crazier than me!" She grins and laughs softly, before making her voice sound more gruff, "Ya buttering up the author nightmares with your mooshy stuff!”

● But after her initial over-the-top reaction, she’ll soften. “Fine, soak it all in.” She shrugs and continues working. But deep down, she really loves the affection and she's getting more and more attached to you. You're giving her the kind of love that she thinks she never deserved in her life, so she really appreciates these little things you do. She might even snuggle up to you later, claiming it’s to “soak in all this ‘cute’ energy.”

● Oh, by the way, she'll make this happen a lot more often. By how, you ask? Well, by doing the same thing to you, of course! It becomes a little challenge betweem the two of you who calls the other one cute first and catching them off guard with it.

● Vi is all tough love and sass, but there’s a soft side she shows only to the people she really cares about. You notice this when she’s being protective or just in those peaceful moments when you're both alone together.

● If you call her cute, she’ll raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Cute? Babe, I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

● Later, she’ll definitely tease you about it, saying something like, “So, how’s it feel dating the cutest person in Zaun?” or "Am I still cute?" with a playful grin. She'll be teasing you and making you smile with that while she's half naked and flexing her biceps (she knows you love them), or when she just got done with a fight and is still holding her gauntlets.

● She loves it, don't let that teasing fool you.

● Heimerdinger is an adorable bundle of wisdom and fluff. You often catch him rambling about science with such enthusiasm that you can’t help but smile. Look at him! He's just adorable!

● One day, as he’s showing you a tiny contraption he just finished, you can’t help but reach out and pet his fluffy head, saying, “You’re the most cutest genius ever.”

● Heimerdinger chuckles, his mustache twitching with amusement. “Ah, well, I suppose I do have a certain charm about me, don’t I?”

● He pretends to be unaffected, but you notice the way his tail swishes slightly when you hug him. “I must say, your affection is quite... energizing! Perhaps I should study its effects further.”

● From then on, he might start subtly seeking out your affection—like casually leaning into your hand when you pet him or “accidentally” bumping into you while working.

● Ekko is talking to you about his plans for the Firelights while sketching upgrades for their hoverboards.

● You were quietly admiring him, the way his eyes light up and the focused furrow of his brows, when you suddenly blurt out, “You’re so cute when you’re focused.”

● He freezes for a second, then looks at you with a mixture of surprise and amusement. “Cute? Me?” He grins, a soft laugh escaping. “You sure you’re not talking about yourself there?”

● He rubs the back of his neck, trying to act nonchalant, but the smile gives him away.

● “You’re not getting away with saying that,” he teases, leaning in to nudge you lightly with his shoulder. He goes back to doing his work before playfully adding, “But if you keep looking at me like that, I might just start believing it.”

● It's these little things that matters. These moments, even if simple, it gives him hope and motivation to make the world a better place. The way his eyes soften when you look at him in that moment, and how he lets his guard down just enough to show you he cares — it’s clear that, while he teases, he loves the attention, and he loves you even more for it.

● Dude's got lines fr fr

● Mylo has always been the type of guy who had a sarcastic, sassy remark ready. We all know that from how he treated Powder.

● When you suddenly hug him and call him cute, he freezes for a second, unsure of how to react. “Cute? Me?” He scoffs, trying to play it cool, but it's very obvious he's a bit flustered by it. “Out of all the compliments you could’ve picked, you went with cute? I’m more like... cool, and handsome.” He throws a dramatic, exaggerated pose, trying to hide his nervousness.

● Despite his teasing, there's a small, pleased grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tries to act nonchalant, but the way he keeps glancing at you shows how much he’s secretly enjoying it.

● “Seriously, though. I’m cool, alright?” he continues, trying to regain his confidence. “I don’t do cute. But, uh... thanks. I guess.” He says softly as he shrugs, clearing his throat.

● Later on, when no one’s watching, you might catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, a small smile on his face, clearly still flattered.

Can you guys guess which is my favorite based on how long their headcanons are

[magpiemalarkey]

Yeah, I wanted to do ttrpg adventures in my Red Riders story setting and decided I didn't want to try to make my own damn system or try to find the system out there that best fit my vision and then convince my friends to learn it. So I homebrewed a Red Riders flavored D&D setting instead.

I actually found it kinda, interesting/helpful in some ways because it forced me to ask a lot of questions about my world and think about what information my players would need (and would want) to have in order to come up with characters and enjoy playing with me in my universe. Do I need to use all this info in my stories? Absolutely not! Do I like having settled some concepts and vocabulary sorted out that I can just sprinkle into stories? Yes!

I will acknowledge that this is not like an efficient way to do world-building for a project. It took me several months to get anything to a playable state, and then several more months after a first playtest to get it to place where I was content with it. (It could stand to be improved, but it's fun as is). And then there were a lot of places where I ended up with two answers to some questions. The "real" answer and the "D&D compatible" answer. And it can be a little frustrating having a solid sense of how something should work and not being able to make it work mechanically. (And honestly, there are things that are fun to read about that would not make an interesting play experience for most people! Figuring out what my players wanted to be able to do and what experience I wanted them to be able to have in my world, and how I could try to make that all work within the system i was playing with was also an interesting exercise!)

There were also some places where assumptions about character/story/world built into D&D were so incompatible with the segment of the Red Riders universe I had chosen to play with that I had to rewrite or entirely omit some things. For example: I left out entire character classes. Even the classes I did keep got tweaked, or required new flavor text.

It was a very interesting project, but also one that made it very clear to me that D&D is not a universal system. (duh). I don't think I have it in me to write up my own perfectly tailored ttrpg for Red Riders. (....yet?) but modding an existing system by breaking and rebuilding things until I get something satisfying to play with was actually pretty fun for me, so I am now eyeing other systems that are better suited mechanically to certain aspects of Red Riders As A Game Experience and hoping some day to find the energy to break more things!

So yeah. Making my story's universe fit neatly into D&D framework was impossible. Violence all around!

Writing fantasy and speculative fiction is actual Hell because achieving verisimilitude demands that you, the author, have a clear idea of how the speculative or fantastical elements of your setting work, but the story will almost always be improved by not explaining it to the reader.

[revelboo]

Oh damn!! Mind if I just explode into particles about the latest Circuits and Wires??

BOOM!! 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💕💕💕💕💕

I love it so much

Wheeljack’s always been a favorite, just that optimism that’s undiminished no matter how many times his projects literally blow up in his face.

Also: Let’s see how many of these I can update in a day

Circuits and Wires Pt 10

Wheeljack x Reader

• Shifting to sit curled up in his lap, you’re aware of him shifting his arm as if wanting to touch and not sure where is okay. Biting into the inside of your cheek as he struggles, you reach back and pull his arm around you, pressing his big hand against your hip and feeling him shiver under you. Because one of you is going to have to be assertive and you’re almost positive it’s not going to be him. Reaching for his other hand, you pull it to you and play with his servos, fingertips tracing over the softer metal mesh at the inside of his wrist as you lay your head against him.

• You’re so soft and warm against him, he wants to tip your head up. Explore your soft mouth and let his hands wander. Would you let him? Optics dim, he doesn’t dare try to find out. Too afraid of being rejected or ruining this. Glossa sliding against his bottom lip remembering the feel of your mouth on his, he flexes his servos when you run your fingertips against the inside of them. And you look up at him, head against his shoulder. Slowly, he presses his palm to yours, intertwining his servos with your fingers, the difference in how much smaller your little hands is, shocking. Even mass displaced, you’re so delicate compared to him. And a part of him thrills at that difference.

• Breath catching as you stare at your hand trapped in his much bigger one and feel the servos of the hand on your hip flex against you. Making you wonder what those big hands would feel like on you. “I keep thinking I’m going to break you,” he says, vocal indicators flickering mauve. Embarrassed? About breaking you? Why would he even-oh. Heat spilling through you, his awkwardness twists, takes on a new meaning. Not even sure how that would work between you two. Though, those big fingers could be put to use. And now the thought is there as your face heats.

• Head ducking against him as he catches a glimpse of how red your face just got, he frowns. “I promise you won’t break me,” you mutter, avoiding looking at him as your fingers squeeze his. Venting, he absently rubs against your hip and rests his chin on top of your head. Loving the feel of you against him and not quite believing that he’s allowed this much.

• “I hope not. I like having you around,” he says as you cringe. Because nope. It’s going right over his handsome, dense head unless you spell it out for him. Maybe he’d hadn’t meant it that way after all. And asking about it? Bluntly telling him that you’re interested in him that way? You’d rather curl up and die of embarrassment right now. So you’re right back to square one, you too shy and him too damn oblivious.

Previous

I am all motors and gadgets

Organically designed to last a finite length of time

Locked in this rotary motion, the wheel spins round and round

I comprehend it all but still can't make a sound

I know there's something wrong within my faulty brain

I lack the proper behavior

My temper-addled tongue can't seem to force it out

The words that linger inside me

Can't speak, can't speak, can't speak at all

Don't even think you know the reason

Can't speak, can't speak, can't speak at all

Don't even try to understand

I am all circuits and wires

Conducting symphonies of heat exchange energies

My temper-addled tongue can't seem to force it out

The words that linger inside me

[sinister-sincerely]

hi sin... :3c ... >:3c

we care youuuuuuu 💜💜💜

much sillies!! & much lovely art!! from @midnight-mourning @luckyyyduckyyy @soupdweller @wyervan & i, for you!!! 🫵

we hope that you are doing well! and that you are taking care, giving yourself grace through the highs & lows alike. it's not always easy, but you're not alone. hopefully this gets a laugh for ya to enjoy 💜

& in the future, if you'd like to draw together, or simply chill ambiently... the offer is always open!

... In full disclosure this took me a wretched amount of time to pull myself together to actually respond to.

(Its a long one, just a heads up. I do think its worth it though)

To say I was floored~ moved~ touched~ The words pale in comparison.

I believe the saying that a measure of someone being a good person is how they treat those that can do nothing for them.

And here I am, a stranger, being shown a kindness that I am not so sure I deserve but am grateful nonetheless.

To think that anyone, let alone all of you, amazing writers, artists, … people I respect and admire thought of me for even a moment to do something like this.

Depression- it holds me back a lot of the time.

It convinces me, like I am sure it does MANY of those readin' this, that your absence in this community, in this world, would not be felt.

There is a reason that I am a part of this community.

Its because it has a way of pulling together some of the most wonderful people I have ever had the pleasure of getting to know.

Now. I wanna return some of that kindness and talk specifically about the ones that pulled together to do this for me. (And also a few that are never far from my mind too)

@divinit3a

You are one of the only people I know that can just be there and your presence felt. Charismatic in the most brilliant way, I love the way your personality shines through everything you interact with (whether that be your writing or something as simple as a Tumblr post)

There is a reason that when you entered the community that people were drawn to you. You have an ability that is both captivating as it is striking in how powerful that magnetism is.

I am so grateful I get to know you, and I am so excited to see what else you create whether that be in this community or elsewhere.

I will always be a supporter, a fan, and most importantly a friend.

Read their stuff!

@midnight-mourning

Sometimes I get caught up in the fact I actually get to speak with the person who has wrote one of my favorite works on AO3.

I first stumbled upon your fic the day it was published and immediately fell in love with the snarky depiction of Sun (and the beautiful mysterious Moon) that you created in a world that has so much more left to be uncovered.

You manage to balance your life along side updating which in of itself seems like such a superpower that I envy to the core.

You also floored me with the kindness you've shown through out us chatting back and forth. Sometimes I feel just in awe that I can say we know eachother…

@luckyyyduckyyy

Talk about someone I've been actively following for awhile- Lucky, your ANE fanfic was one of the very first I read when stumbling upon the DCA community! It inspired me to take a chance at writing myself and posting it for the first time.

If I hadn't come across you- well, I wouldn't be here now… How do you even begin to pay that back?

I have no idea how I can thank you enough for doing that for me, let alone thank you for doing the above for me…

Its my hope that I get to continue to be friends with you, learn more from you and maybe one day manage to give back a fraction of what you've given me…

@soupdweller

AHH! Hi! So- I have no words but thank you.

I've admired your art for a very VERY long time and its such a cool, (and a bit) intimidating (but in a good way) gesture to have this coming from you too.

Your rendering is beautiful.

The way you laid out the DCA's internals still give me steampunk vibes in the BEST way with the colour palette~ I can gush forever but I also wanna seem cool and somewhat mysterious in that 'kinda quiet way'…

��� I'll cut that out for now ^^

on a serious note, thank you, you don't know me very well but you still did this and what I mentioned before about the measure of being a good person- that describes you.

@wyervan

… Would it be weird for me to say that anytime I think of the DCA as humans I can't for the life of me not picture the AU forms that you created that has single handedly metamorphosized into a community Slasher Y/N multiverse?

That is an amazing talent, I am just in awe at what you've managed to not only do, but also how you've brought so many people together!

I have so much to say, and yet I don't wanna put my foot in my mouth by actually following through with the amount of admiration I wanna express.

Thank you for taking part in this for me, we don't really know each-other much just yet but I hope that changes. You seem like such an amazing person, I'd love to gossip about skinny, scrawny, somewhat unhinged guys with you sometime.

-

I have a few people I wanna shout out too

@amarynthian-chronicles:

Thank you for always supporting me, even when I don't think I deserve it. You've been an amazing person to me, and I hope I get more opportunities to return the favor

@gniteruirui

Gosh. You've been such a beautiful person to get to know this past year or so. Your artwork gives me life, and seeing your name pop up in all the ways it does makes me smile.

@lets-zofifi-stuff

I hope you continue to have more good days vs bad- I hope the sun shines on you and you always find random luck whenever its needed.

You were one of the first people I made friends with here on Tumblr… I may have also looked back and saw that you even made a post about me when I left Tumblr the first time.

@bubbiethesaur

I don't have enough words to express how much I adore you for just being you. Thank you, I hope I can be a friend that deserves you.

I just wanted to tag you- You are so talented, wonderful, and kind.

Something about you just makes me smile whenever I see your username come up. I've always wanted to get closer to you, friendship wise, but I also get scared because you're so cool.

I've been working on it.

Just know that our conversations in Qwille's discord have always been some of my favorite moments in this community.

@maldefekt

Thank you for reaching out to me- even that most recent time when you saved me from something I know would have haunted me forever!

I am looking forward to getting to know you more

[galaxyedging]

This is for the Pedrostories Secret Santa Event.

For the lovely @baronessvonglitter

WC: 5.15k

Warnings: Smut. I don't want to give anything away, so proceed with caution.

Summary: The promotion to VP comes with a clause. Will a year in a small town change our readers' plans?

Featuring Joel Miller and Dave York

Christmas In Paris

“Honeymire, as its name suggests, used to be too waterlogged to expand on when the land was settled.” The opening that sounded great in your head doesn't feel right as you say it out loud. “Now that our surveys show that this is no longer the case, we're hoping to bring new life to the town.”

The rest of the presentation runs smoothly. All the data is there. It all points to a great investment opportunity, with high returns. Still, you can see the investors are on the fence. It's been a while since you'd pitched anything in such a rural location. Maybe it was time to switch things up.

“Look, I have to be honest, this goes beyond great projected profits for me.” Like a guarantee of becoming VP of Sales with a huge raise. “I grew up in a town like this. The memories of being part of a community and something bigger than myself helped me get where I am today.” Everyone knowing my business and thinking they had a right to talk about it drove me to the city. “This isn't just an opportunity to make money, it's an opportunity to make a community whole again, to bring new life to the area and give others a fresh start to theirs somewhere they can call home.”

The investors loved the talk of home and community. 

Unfortunately, a little too much you think as you open the curtains in the place that had become your home for the last year. The investors handed over way more cash than the company had been expecting, and that figure had been staggeringly high. Your boss had offered you the promotion the next day but with a caveat, you were to move to the town to oversee everything personally. Once the project was finished, you would be welcomed back with a raise, enough to buy that penthouse apartment you'd been eyeing. Your whole future runs through your mind as you get ready for your day until you are abruptly jarred out of them by a grumpy yowl.

“Seriously? You're giving me attitude? You're not even my cat, you little freeloader.” You grumble at the little ball of mixed fur sitting haughtily in the middle of your kitchen floor. Still, you opened a tin of tuna and placed it in the bowl you bought just for her and refreshed her water bowl. “I'm seeing Joel today. I'm going to have him nail that cat flap shut.” You idly threaten as the ginger and black mottled creature eyes you. “Don't look at me like that. He's just a contractor I work with.” You project onto your four-legged companion. Although even the cat could see that things had changed between you and Joel lately.

Joel Miller had come highly recommended when you were looking for contractors in the area. After his daughters moved out for college, he downsized his business and moved north to be closer to them. He'd settled in the same town as his brother to spend time with his family, including his young nephews. You knew quite a bit about Joel. Divorced single father at a young age. He adopted one of his daughter Sarah's friends when her mom passed away. With his brother Tommy's help and sometimes hindrance, as Joel tells it, he built a great business. Aside from his daughters, Tommy was Joel's only close family left. His parents passed away in a car accident when Tommy was in junior high. Joel had pretty much finished raising Tommy and then started raising his own daughter. Joel was easy to talk to while you planned the finer details of the project. Sometimes well into the night, as you got sidetracked by enjoying each other's company. Joel no longer felt like an employee. He felt like something more, a friend or maybe…that potential spiral into no good thoughts is cut off by a heavy knock at your door.

Once your eyes adjust to the figure in front of you backlit by the morning sun on last night's fresh snow, you take in the well-dressed, broad shouldered man in front of you. He makes no secret of doing the same, removing his sunglasses to let his eyes travel your whole body. When his eyes finally reach yours, he speaks “Sorry to disturb you. I got here early, and the man at the gas station said to just knock here. I'm Dave, Dave York.” 

“Oh, Mr York! Hi. Er, I wasn't expecting you….” You suddenly feel flustered. Maybe due to the abrupt arrival of your client or due to the fact that he is even hotter than his voice led you to imagine he was. 

“I know, and please, Dave. I just woke up and decided to make the drive early. I figured I could get breakfast here and wait, but the guy assured me that you wouldn't mind me knocking.” Dave told you in earnest.

I bet he didn't. Gus was married to the owner of the diner. The two of them were the biggest busybodies in town. They both had plenty to say about a single woman in her forties. 

“It's absolutely fine. I just haven't long been up. I haven't had my coffee yet, so doing business is a shock to the system.” You put on your brightest smile to put Dave at ease.

“Well, in that case, the least I can do is get you coffee. I was going to the diner anyway, maybe you can escort me?”

A cup of coffee had sounded innocent enough. Then Reba, Gus’ wife and fellow busybody, had gotten involved, and the next thing you know, you and Dave were eating breakfast together and chatting the morning away. You had to admit that even without Reba’s help, Dave was smooth and confident enough to keep you here. The attraction between the two of you was obvious. Dave flirted openly, though he managed to keep it subtle and classy. There was an air of mystery about him. Even beyond his CIA work, there was a cool reservedness under his charming facade. There was an intensity there, too. Sadly, there were not many men who you could imagine as your equal or, in this case superior, but you could easily imagine Dave dominating you…the third interruption to your thoughts of the day comes courtesy of Joel clearing his throat. 

“Sorry to interrupt. I just didn't want to miss our meeting.” Joel lays on the southern charm as he introduces himself to Dave. 

It doesn't take an ex-CIA agent to see it's stretched over an underbed of annoyance. Dave acts just as politely, even with the obvious tension in the air, as he gives Joel his own name and his hand.

After what feels like forever, it's your turn to speak. “My apologies to you both. Dave, it was lovely to meet you. You have your keys. Take your time to inspect the property and get back to me with any issues. I have a meeting with Joel, our very competent contractor, who can handle any last-minute requests for your home. Breakfast is on me, well, the company. Enjoy. Joel, let's head over to the office.” Without looking as you make your way to the door seeking the air that had been sucked out of the room, you can tell Dave and Joel take a moment to eye each other. 

When Joel finally catches up to you outside, you offer him another apology.

“Don't worry about it. You were obviously busy entertaining your client.” The set of his jaw as he speaks makes you think about punching him in it. 

Joel is an extremely handsome man, even with being at home in the same neutral toned flannel every day, you could see him being able to pull off a variety of colours, unfortunately for him envy green didn't suit. The short meeting was conducted in even shorter exchanges. There were no pleasantries or antidotes. No lingering after business was done just to shoot the shit. 

It was barely noon when you got home, but you decided to take a long soak in the tub, hoping to wash away the discomfort of the morning. The bath worked to a certain extent. After some time relaxing on your own, you decide that whatever issue Joel had was on him, and Dave was free to handle it however he liked. Tying your robe at the waist, you watch the last of the bubbles drain and give the claw foot tub a quick rinse. The thought of a hot cup of tea and a book in your cosy chair leads you downstairs without even dressing. The water is simmering when you hear a rap on the kitchen window. You know who it is before you open the door. 

“Joel.” You open curtly.

“Listen, I'm not too good with words, but I wanted to say sorry for this morning. I...damn it…I guess I got jealous when I saw you with another man. Lately, I've been thinking that maybe when the job is over, you would let me take you out on a date.” For a big man, Joel seems awfully small while he gets that all out. Adorably so. Part of you wants to kiss the little patch in his beard. 

“You did alright with your words, Joel. Apology accepted. As for the date, you're right. I would have let you take me on one, but you know as soon as I'm done here, I'm going home. I have to admit this small town living was pretty nice for a while, but I have a career to get back to.” It was your turn to feel small, a career, and not much else. 

“I'm from Texas. We drive hours for a football game. A few hours drive for a date with a beautiful woman is nothing.” The way Joel softens for you makes you melt. 

All too quickly, you are aware of how close his broad chest is and how naked you are under your thin robe. Those large skilled hands could be on your bare skin in moments. The air shifts between you, throwing out more heat than the roaring fire in your living room. The times you've imagined Joel taking you in front of that thing on your lonely nights here was enough to make a sinner blush. As if you had slipped into a cartoon, the stream whistle blows on your kettle. 

“I better…” You pull yourself away from Joel. 

Not having those intense brown eyes looking down at you helps to clear your head. “That's really sweet, Joel. Maybe at another time, I would have jumped at the idea, but I'm going to have so much work to do. I have to get familiar with all of our clients, not just the ones I've handled. I need to research new investors and companies to work with. It's just going to be a lot, and I don't want to lead you on.” As if on autopilot, you pour the water over the tea bag, and it becomes the most fascinating thing in the room as you can't lift your face from it for fear of Joel seeing through you. It's not work that is keeping you from accepting his offer. It's fear. Fear of heartbreak, fear of something between you derailing your future plans, fear of so many unknowns.

“I know when to take no for an answer, but if you change your mind, I get good mileage out of my truck, and I keep the tank full.” You can picture the smirk on his face from his voice.   

It breaks through enough to make you turn to him. Sure enough, he has that smirk that breaks into that dopey grin he gets after he makes a dad joke when you smile at him.

“I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for understanding.” It's not on the little bare patch, but you can't resist placing a kiss on his cheek.

The closeness of the two of you as you pull away draws your faces together until your lips meet a soft, tender kiss. When you pull away, there is a wordless exchange between you with eyes full of longing, regret, and understanding. 

“I'll see you at work tomorrow.” Joel finally provides trying to make things easier on you.

“See you tomorrow, Joel.” You manage a smile for him before seeing him out.

Your tea, book, and cosy chair are long forgotten in favour of throwing yourself on your bed like some lovesick Disney princess. Instead of birds fluttering around you, self-doubt flies about the space of your room. 

The ringing of your phone breaks you out of a slumber that you didn't realise had claimed you. Dave York’s name is on your screen. “Hi, Dave. How are you settling in?” 

Half an hour later, you are sitting at Dave’s breakfast bar as he details a few changes he would like. “These are all very doable.”

Instantly, you regret your choice of words when you see Dave’s face. The look on it makes it very clear that he caught your double entendre.”Where are my manners? I have even offered you anything to drink.”

Dave moves around the kitchen like he has lived there for years. Something tells you that Dave would move around any space like he owned it. Including the space between your legs. The touch of Joel's lips on yours and the memory of the heat of his body has you feeling a way as you watch Dave's hands competently open the bottle of wine he retrieved from the cabinet over the fridge. 

“Red? Or I have some chilled white?” Dave asks as if wine is the only choice.

“Neither, thank you.” You decline while Dave pours himself a healthy glass.

“Alright. You do seem a little tense. I thought it might help you relax. Is it anything to do with your contractor friend?” Dave's line of questioning has you blinking owlishly at him. “I don't mean to pry. He just seemed a bit put out this morning, with us enjoying each other's company, and you don't usually wear that cologne.” All you can do is sit there stunned. A little angry at the audacity, impressed by his attention to detail, a little relieved that it's out in the open. “Look, I know I just got here, but we've been speaking on the phone for a long time now. The way you handle yourself impressed me. Now I have a face, and body, to go with that I'm even more impressed. I enjoyed our breakfast this morning. I'd like to explore that connection further. If things don't work out with your Cowboy Contractor, you can call me. Or I don't mind keeping you company until they do.” Speechless. Speechless and aroused. 

“You know….I think I will have that glass of wine.” No other thoughts enter your head until you have downed at least half a glass of the quality merlot that Dave hands you. “Thank you…for the wine and the interest. I would be interested too. I mean, in you, but I have work…and…and Joel and…I…have to be going to conduct work and…Joel…so goodnight.”

Dave seems amused by your rambling as you make your way to the back door. Smiling broadly, he throws a ‘goodnight’ through the narrow gap in the door before you slam it shut.

Taking to your bed seems like a great option again. Laying there fully dressed, the weight of the day drives you into the mattress. This was not what you needed. Not at this stage in your life or at this time of the year. Tomorrow, you were to help with the Christmas festival and entertain prospective buyers. How were you supposed to be a cheery, innocent Santa's helper when you had thoughts of a different type of ‘ho ho ho’ in your mind? 

A quick ‘stress relief’ session, a shower, and a new pair of silky snowflake adored pyjamas have you more in the festive mind before you drift off to sleep. 

The next morning is non-stop. Both Dave and Joel crossed your path. Dave exchanged morning pleasantries as he returned from a jog in the light snowfall. You remind him about the festival and how important it is. Joel is helping with the stage, so you managed to avoid any long conversation. Aside from your requests from Dave, to be done in the new year, there really wasn't much you had to say to him. He was only going to be here to set up anyway. Lunchtime rolls around, and your stomach pulls you home from the bustling town square to the leftover soup and remainder of yesterday's fresh bread. The drive to the new development was only a few minutes away. When you get there, you wish that it was longer, so you missed the full-blown display of testosterone on your neighbour’s lawn. 

“I told you!” Joel spits.

“What do you want? A fucking medal?” Dave snarls back.

“Hey! What is going on?!” You call as soon as you jump out of your car now parked haphazardly on the street. 

Both men visibly calm.

Joel speaks first. “The power is out for the block. Dave decided to hang some Christmas lights.” You can tell it pains him not to add some dig at Dave.

“You said the festival was important. I wanted to do my part.” Dave tries to appeal to your good nature and high standards. 

“Which would have been great, I'm sure, if you hadn't overloaded the circuit board.” Joel grits out.

Dave moves first, turning squarely to Joel. Joel doesn't move an inch. He just calmly regards Dave’s stance.

“Enough! You can measure who’s is bigger later. Just fix this. Please.” The two of them morphed from scowling dogs to obedient pups at your words.

“We will.” Joel promises with Dave nodding in agreement. 

Thankfully, both your stove and water heater ran off gas, so you are still able to eat and shower before changing into your ridiculous elf costume. White and green striped tights covered your legs, clinging to your curvy thighs. A green and red elf dress and hat made up the rest of the costume, and it was completed with elf ears and sparkly rosy cheek makeup. 

At first, when you spot Joel and Dave through your window congratulating each other on getting the power back on, relief floods you. The day was back on track, and they seemed to be getting on well, bonus. Sadly, the relief is short-lived when they see you leave the house. The two of them exchange glances and acquire matching shit eater grins.

“Nope. I don't want to hear it. The power is on. You two aren't butting heads on the lawn. Do not ruin it.” You yell at them while scrambling into your car as quickly as possible before they spoil your mood with any jokes.

The festivities went well. The prospective buyers seemed overjoyed with the place. The current town residents seemed to approve of the applicants. Three new families are bringing eight children between them. The adults include a veterinarian, a teacher, and a nurse. Two well-off, quiet retired couples. The business woman was a no show, but she did travel a lot last minute as she'd told you. Santa proved very popular and you by association. It did warm your heart to hand out candy canes and see the children's happy faces. Best of all, Joel and Dave spent most of the day busy somewhere else and only turned up at the end of the day with some booze laden eggnog courtesy of Reba. 

“Wow. That could strip paint.” You comment before taking another healthy gulp.

“Easy. We might have to carry you home.” Joel laughs before taking a cautious sip from his own cup. 

“Please. I can handle my booze.” You scoff.

Dave raised his eyebrows in approval before raising his cup. “I'll drink to that.”

A few paint-stripped nogs later, the three of you amble home. You are in the middle flanked by your burly protectors. 

“You two seem to be getting on better, or is it just the alcohol?” The alcohol has certainly loosened you up. There was no way you would poke the bear like that sober.

“We talked while we worked on the electricity.” Dave begins to explain.

“I don't think she needs all the details.” Joel tries to laugh the whole thing off. Dave doesn't take any notice as he carries on. “You and Joel clearly have a thing, and he was here first, so I'm not going to muscle in on his territory. We've good.”

Joel lets out a quiet ‘goddammit’ as you come to an abrupt stop. “Oh? We've good are we? You two have decided that? You have decided that Joel can lay claim to me since he's planted his flag?!”

“Really? I just thought you kissed.” Dave quips.

Joel looks like he wants to take a swing at the other man.

“So you two have decided who I want? Well, the joke is on you. I want you both.” Wow, the alcohol has just removed your filter completely. “I don't have time for relationships or dating, but it's been a lonely year here, and I want sex and if you two think you can just choose for me, then I can choose you both.”

The indignant tone in your voice is undercut by the bell on your hat tinkling as you fold your arms across your chest. 

Dave stalks towards you like a creature in the night. “When you say both, do you mean at the same time? I mean, I'm game. I don't know about, Tex, here.” 

The light brush of his fingers across your cheek makes you tremble. The touch adds weight to his words. That's all this is right now, words. They could just walk about, and nothing would come of it. Then Joel moves, too. With complete purpose, straight at you. The kiss he gives you now is nowhere near as chaste as the last one. It's a burning brand of his desire on you. It leaves no doubt of Joel's intentions towards you. When it ends for a moment, you understand what people mean when they say the earth moved. Until you realised Dave had swept you up in his arms. For a second, that little insecure voice worried about him carrying your extra pounds, but it was left in the metaphorical dust as Dave carried you easily through the snow to your door. 

With shaking fingers, you try to retrieve the keys from your tiny green felt pouch. When you can't, Dave shoves the purse at Joel, who quickly opens the door while Dave gets his first kiss with you. It's a precision assault with his tongue. He knows just the right amount to use to have you breathless. 

The two muscular men block your doorway for a moment when you pull them both in at the same time. Following your lead and using the momentum, the two of them press you into the wall opposite. Dave’s thigh presses between your legs as the two of them kiss your neck. Joel's work hardened hand is gentle as it cups your breasts in turn, thumbing each nipple as he goes. The arousal the action brings jerks your hips into Dave’s tensed thigh. 

“You're needy, huh?” Dave teases with his words, and then his hands as he cups your mound. His fingers are spread just so to tease without giving you friction where you need it most.

“Please.” You whisper against Joel's lips as he kisses you once more. 

Joel doesn't tease. His thick fingers hitch your skirt up and dive below the waistband of your tights and panties. The first sweep of his fingertips where you need him has your toes curling in your little elf shoes.

“So we're just diving straight in?” Dave shrugs as he drops to his knees. 

His moves are no longer light, but they are just as calculated. Ripping the gusset out of your festive tights, he pulls your panties to the side and fills you with two thick digits. A quick come hither motion makes your knees buckle, and Joel pins you up with his hip. With you nestled into his side, Joel takes full advantage of exclusive access to your lips. These kisses are less urgent. He delicately gets to know what you like. Just as he does with his movements on your clit. He follows every whimper and moan changing his pace and pressure to suit. Dave on the other hand has found the spot he's looking for and is relentlessly pumping his fingers in and out. The noise is obscene in your picturesque little hallway. The cusses that spill from your lips as you come around Dave’s fingers are even worse. 

“With a mouth like that, you're definitely on the naughty list.” Joel grins, his eyes full of adoration. They darken for a second before he whispers in your ear. “You need your mouth washed out.”

“I hear Paris is lovely this time of year.” Dave chimes in, in between licking your release off of his fingers. 

With a plan in mind, the three of you end up in your bedroom. Clothes had all been shed on the way. Some you'd pulled off yourselves. Some had been torn off by others. Somehow, you had ended up on the bed looking up at the two beautifully naked men. Joel was broad and thick with a dark trail of curls leading down to his long, girthy cock. Dave was more lean but no less muscular. His hair was neatly trimmed around the base of his longer, thinner, curved cock. 

After you take your time to appreciate them, you reach for them. They lay on either side of you. Their hands run over every inch of your plush flesh. As they kiss, lick and nibble their way over every curve until you are dizzy with need. 

Eventually, Joel's hand skims between your legs. 

“Fuck.” He breathes, returning his hand there to feel the wetness pooling. 

Dave doesn't need any more feedback. He has you ready on your knees before you know it. His cock waiting at your entrance for any signal that you have changed your mind. The only signal you give him is sliding back down his length. You expect some smartass remark, all he gives you is a long moan as he fully bottoms out. You think you might get a softer side of Dave, until he starts thrusting hard and deep. He is so relentless that when Joel brings his weeping tip to your lips you don't even have to think about your movements, your lips just part around him and the movement of your whole body has your head bobbing around him. Only when his thick head nudges your throat do you think to bring your hand, lips, and tongue into play if only to allow you to breathe if nothing else. Dave’s balls slap against you violently as you cup Joel's gently kneading them. Joel whines at the act and threads his hand into your hair. It's more of a caring gesture than a dominant one. His thumb caresses the side of your head. Dave’s thrusts are maddeningly accurate. The pleasure is building rapidly. You don't know how much strength you'll have left once your orgasm hits. You can already tell it will be all consuming and leave you boneless. Desperately, you work Joel harder with your hand. It glides up and down his girth with ease from all the drool they have forced from you. Sucking him into your throat, you trace the thick vein of his shaft with your tongue. Your moans escalate and come out muffled. Dave grunts are pure filth as he nears his climax. Joel leaves you perplexed when he pulls his cock out.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart.” He pants as he starts fucking his own fist. “Is Dave making you feel good? Is he working my pussy right?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh, god.” You grip the sheets beneath you hovering on the edge of oblivion. 

“Fuck. You know he's just getting a taste, right? That that little cunt is mine afterwards?” The groan that comes from Joel's chest makes you clamp down around Dave. 

“Oh, shit. She likes that. Fuck. Fuck.” Dave's movements speed up clearly on the edge of spilling into you. 

“Yeah? You like me talking about how that cunt is mine? Be a good girl and milk his cock for all it's worth.” Your body listens to Joel before you even process his words. 

“Fuuuuck. Ugh.” Dave gasps as he fills you with rope after rope of his cum. He carries on thrusting until he's soft, driving his seed deep.

“Tongue out.” Joel groans.

You react just in time to catch the second spurt across your face. 

“Oh. Ohh.” Joel's hand keeps fisting his cock until he is thoroughly wrung out. His cum covers your cheeks and chin.

As post orgasm clarity sets in, Joel silently hands you his shirt to clean up while Dave wanders off to find his clothes. 

The Christmas festival in Honeymire seems like a lifetime ago. In reality, it has only been a year. The cosy chair that once looked out over the town now looks out over the skyline of the city. The view that your promotion bought you in your dream penthouse apartment. Everything had gone to plan. With maybe a couple of exceptions.

“Hey, Mama, we're home.” The familiar voice of your boyfriend calls from the front door while he kicks off his shoes.

“Hi, was my baby good? Were you a good girl?” You coo as you pick the carrier up to check on the furry occupier while she can't sculk away from your affection. 

“She was great. The new vet gave her a clean bill of health. I had a hard time explaining why she's called ‘Freeloader’.” Joel kisses your cheek after hanging up his jacket. 

“She eats my food, growls at me and has a weird way of showing her affection. What else would I call her?” You shrug.

“In my experience? Ellie.” Joel snorts.

You muse as you let your furry dependant loose. “They do have the same ‘cross me and I'll cut you’ vibe. Even if they are both adorable with it.” 

Joel smiles broadly at the thought of the challenging teen who managed to get into environmental law. “Yeah. I'm just glad she's channeling that energy into saving the world.”

The prideful look on Joel's face makes you love him even more. You can't  help but cuddle into him. “Speaking of, when are the girls leaving Tommy's after Christmas?”

Joel thinks for a moment. “The 29th. Why?”

Laying your head on his shoulder, you nonchalantly reply. “Nothing. Just Dave texted and asked if we wanted to spend New Year's in Paris.”

[aigoos]

Obikin Shrine Journey

Today, I went to work for the last time this year, and I added to my Obikin shrine some new merchs that I received a few days before. This shrine has been my project for all of 2024. What started as a few charms (or danglies, as I call them) and buttons grew into this as I spent the entire year collecting enamel pins, stickers, charms, prints, plushies, buttons, figures, magnets, and photo tiles.

I started off with a much smaller board, but then in the summer, my co-worker and I had to change offices, so I took the larger board in our office (which was good, because I had run out of space), and then even took over the refrigerator and expanded the shrine onto my desk, shelf, cabinet, and wall.

Let's just say I am grateful that my current co-worker and my former co-worker support my obsession. I've never mentioned to them about the actual ship, only stated that they are my favourite characters from Star Wars, and I did do my best to keep the shrine platonic as possible . . . until a gay colleague saw my shrine and said, "It's giving off a homoerotic vibe." LMAO. If he thinks my work shrine is homoerotic, then I wonder what he'd say if he saw the sexy shrine I have at my work home. See below on why that shrine is staying home LOL.

Anyway, I also wanted to mention that @barmadumet's collection is what heavily inspired me to start my own collection. Thanks to her, I finally personalised my workspace that I hadn't bothered to do anything to for three and a half years. This adventure has brought me many joy -- though my bank account says otherwise, ahaha! But seriously, it got me to support many small businesses and artists (50+!!!!), and it allowed me to meet many other like-minded collectors, and they also helped me get some of the pins that are no longer available. Plus, a couple of my friends and colleagues even gifted me some items for my shrine. This adventure has not only brought me happiness, but it has humbled me as so many people have helped me along the way.

Oh, and it has also taught me to just accept that I cannot put things up straight and to know when to just let the crookedness be.

That said, I've compiled a list of all the businesses/artists below with links to their shops and/or social media~ To conclude, I hope 2025 will allow me to fill up that remaining space on the board!

Amanda Baldwin Art Armstrong Outpost A Sirens Pins BBCre8 BCRCustom BlackWandaShop Cedric @cherriielle @christinechangart Designs by Gen Designs by Joe Distant Fantasy Boards EchofromtheMill @faivsz FestiProper FoldItCreations Foundling Mercantile @geekipopstudio @ginalongillustrations Ginshi Hatters Designs Holy Pins Hunter and Convor IchigoTokki Joy Addict Junction Point Workshop @kana7o KJones Crafts LaDecorEU @dinagastuff Lantern Pins Laser Brain Patch Co Liminal Pins MaxxMerch @mouyashii @mushbuzz-do-not-repost Mythmore Mythos Merchant Co @nickytess Odder Than Antiquity Osiripengin PinButlers Inc Pinculture Co Pins of Marvel and Magic PlushiShop PotatoClone RebelArt Design Roobean Art Ruzovy @saeuchelle @saltyseaturtle Shannon Burton Art SnowFoxTrading Co SuppieDoodles Sword and Whetstone These Pencil Shavings Winter Aifu Xanadu Pins

[mother-homunculus]

Punch me I bleed

sergei kravinoff x female reader

plot: for weeks there is silence between reader and sergei, he hasn't contacted her, and she can't reach him. She’s pissed. Especially when he suddenly shows up at her door, injured, and she has to patch him up again.

warning: none (a little blood, but not that much), fluff bc really want to write a “patch-him-up”-story ^^ It's cliché, but I needed that

word count: 2.6K

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, filling the quiet office with its monotonous sound. The clinic had closed hours ago, leaving the waiting room next door empty and dark, with only the faint scent of antiseptic and the occasional creak of the old building to accompany you.

Living on the outskirts of the city had its perks; most of the buildings nearby were uninhabited, the streets almost eerily empty after dark. You had chosen this place because the rent was cheap and you liked it quiet, but lately, solitude has felt more like isolation.

You sat at your desk in the small office, a steaming cup of coffee growing cold next to you as you pored over a stack of patient files. The work was trivial, the kind you usually delegate to your assistant during the day, but tonight it was the perfect distraction. From him. Sergei.

You hated how much it bothered you; you hated how your heart still leaped every time you thought of him. Every knock at the door, every unexpected sound, sent your heart racing with both hope and dread. The man was infuriating—intense, unpredictable, and utterly impossible to ignore. The last time you’d seen him, he’d kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered. Then he disappeared.

You’d tried to convince yourself you didn’t care—that it was better this way.

You reached for another file, flipping it open. It belonged to Mrs. Harding’s aging tabby cat, Dave. His surgery last week had gone smoothly, and he was recovering well. As you jotted down notes and double-checked his medication dosage, you tried not to think about him.

It wasn’t working.

With a groan, you leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples. You could still hear his voice in your head, that deep rumble that always sent shivers down your spine. You could see his smile, that predatory curve of his lips, equal parts charm and danger. No matter how much you told yourself it was over, a part of you still clung to the hope that he’d walk through your door and make everything right.

Your work wasn’t distracting enough, but you weren’t about to let your mind wander into dangerous territory. Not tonight. You shook your head, willing yourself to focus. “Get a grip,” you muttered under your breath, reaching for the next file in the stack. It was for a stray dog someone had brought in, a young mutt you’d patched up after it had been hit by a car.

Then, just as you were finishing the papers, a loud knock echoed through the quiet clinic. You froze, your pen hovering over the paper. It was almost midnight. For a moment, you wondered if you’d imagined it. But then it came again, sharper this time. Your stomach twisted. It was late—too late for visitors. Setting the pen down, you rose from your chair and made your way to the door.

The overhead light cast long, eerie shadows across the dimly lit hallway. You hesitated for just a moment before unlocking the door and pulling it open.

Your breath hitched.

And there he was.

Sergei stood in the doorway, his broad frame nearly filling it. He looked as imposing as ever, his sharp features framed by his unruly dark hair. Despite the exhaustion on his face, his golden eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.

But then you noticed the blood.

“Sergei,” you gasped, stepping aside to let him in.

He stumbled slightly as he crossed the threshold, his hand clutching his side. “I am... fine,” he said, though the strain in his voice told a different story.

“You are not,” you snapped, grabbing his arm to steady him. “What happened?”

“A hunt. It did not go as planned,” he replied vaguely, his lips twitching into what might have been a smirk if he weren’t clearly in pain.

“Clearly,” you muttered, but you didn’t bother pressing him for details. Instead, you guided him to one of the free chairs, your worry outweighing your anger—though only slightly.

“Sit. Don't move," you ordered as you hurried back into the treatment room to retrieve your emergency medical kit, which you seemed to use more on him than on your patients.

He obeyed without protest, sinking onto the chair with a low groan. His movements were slow and deliberate, as though every step cost him effort.

Upon your return, you found him slumped back against the cushions, his eyes closed and his breathing shallow yet steady. You knelt beside him, your hands already moving to unbutton his shirt. The fabric was sticky with blood, and you grimaced as you peeled it back to reveal a deep gash along his side.

“Can you take off your shirt?”

His lips twitched into a faint smirk despite the situation. “You could at least buy me dinner first.” His humor faded from his face, and with a quiet grunt, he shrugged out of the ruined fabric. A deep gash ran along his side, blood oozing sluggishly from the torn flesh. It wasn’t life-threatening, but it looked painful. You bit your lip, focusing on cleaning the wound, but the tension in the room was palpable.

“This isn’t fine, Sergei,” you muttered, grabbing a clean cloth to press against the wound.

He hissed at the contact, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. “I’ve had worse,” he said, though his voice lacked its usual bravado.

You ignored him, focusing on cleaning the wound in silence and dabbing at it with an antiseptic. His muscles tense beneath your touch, but he didn’t pull away, his golden eyes fixed on you the entire time. Your hands moved with practiced precision, years of treating injured animals making the task almost second nature. But this wasn’t just any patient. This was Sergei, the man who had stolen your heart and then disappeared without a trace.

The silence between you was thick, charged with the tension that had always existed whenever you were together. However, tonight, it was mixed with something heavier—anger, frustration, and the lingering ache of his absence.

“Why are you here?” you asked quietly, not looking up from your work.

There was a pause, and when he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. “I had nowhere else to go.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, a mix of anger and sadness swelling in your chest.

“You didn’t think to call?” Your voice sharpened as you reached for the needle and thread to stitch him up.

“I was busy,” he replied, his tone infuriatingly nonchalant.

He hissed as you pressed a gauze pad against the cut, but he didn’t pull away. “The hunt took longer than expected.”

You paused, your hands trembling slightly as you looked up at him. “You could have sent a message. Something to let me know you were alive.”

He didn’t answer; his eyes were watching you as you worked.

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words. By the time you finished stitching him up and bandaging the wound, your hands were trembling—not from the task, but from the emotions bubbling just beneath the surface.

“There,” you said, sitting back on your heels. “You’re patched up. Now you can go back to wherever it is you’ve been hiding.”

“I did not want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” You echoed, incredulous. “Sergei, you disappeared without a word. Don’t you think I was already worried?”

He didn’t argue, his jaw tightening as he looked away.

By the time you finished stitching him up and bandaging the wound, your hands were trembling—not from the task, but from the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

You stood abruptly to put the unused things in the first aid kit while throwing the blood-stained items in the trash can. Meanwhile, Sergei put his shirt back on, or at least what was left of it. You take a white pill packet from one of the locked cabinets, open it, and take out two blisters, which you press into Sergei's hand.

“They help with the pain, but don't overdo it,” you said, sitting back on your heels. “You’re patched up. Now you can leave.”

He caught your wrist before you could move away again, his grip firm but not painful. “I did not mean to hurt you,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

“Then why do you keep doing it?” You shot back, meeting his gaze. “You show up out of nowhere, you disappear without a word, and then you expect me to just… what? Patch you up and pretend everything’s fine?”

His grip on your wrist tightened slightly, his golden eyes burning with something you couldn’t quite name. “You do not understand—”

“No, I don’t,” you interrupted, your voice trembling with anger. “But you’re here now, Sergei. You show up in the middle of the night, sitting here and bleeding on the floor. So spare me the excuses about how dangerous your life is.”

He didn’t flinch at your words. “I thought it was best,” he said. “For you.”

You shook your head, your voice trembling. “Well, you were wrong. You were probably thinking about what was best for you.”

“That is not fair,” he said, standing. His height and presence filled the small space between you, but you refused to back down.

“Isn’t it?” you challenged, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because it sure feels like I’m just your personal medic. You only show up when you need something, and then you disappear without a word and expect me to wait around for you.”

“I didn’t come here just for this,” he said quietly.

He stepped closer, his large hand reaching out to cup your face with a surprising gentleness. His palm was warm, rough against your skin, and you had to force yourself not to lean into his touch. But you forced yourself to hold firm. He leaned down, his lips hovering just over yours. You could feel the heat from him—the tension crackling between you like a live wire.

His jaw tightened, but then, softly, he said, “I came because I missed you.”

The words struck you deeply, leaving you breathless. You hated how much those words affected you.

“You have a funny way of showing it,” you muttered, but your voice had lost its edge.

“I am not good at this,” he admitted, his voice low and raw. “I am not good at... needing someone. But I need you.”

His words hung heavy in the air, the silence between you taut as a bowstring. His eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, as if it was peeling away every layer of anger and frustration you had built up over the last few weeks. His broad chest rose and fell with his labored breaths, but his focus never wavered.

“You think you can have everything, Sergei, but you only ever give me half of you. You can’t treat me like this. If you want me in your life, you have to let me in. Completely.”

“You speak as if I am strong enough to stay away from you,” he murmured, his voice husky, filled with unspoken longing.

For a moment, neither he nor you moved. Then, in an instant, he closed the gap between you, his movements swift and decisive. His lips crashed against yours.

It was not a kiss of apology. It was not a kiss of restraint. It was raw, desperate, and utterly consuming, as though he was trying to pour every unspoken word, every unresolved emotion, and every urgent longing into it. His hands gripped your waist, rough and possessive, as they dragged you against his body. You moaned as his tongue brushed against yours, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his grip on you tightening as though he was afraid you might pull away.

Your hands found their way to his chest, pressing against the firm, warm planes of muscle as you tried to ground yourself. But instead of pushing him away, your fingers curled into the fabric of his torn shirt, pulling him closer as you kissed him back with just as much intensity. His lips were rough, demanding, but they softened as the kiss deepened, as though he couldn’t decide between devouring you and savoring you.

He growled low into your mouth, the sound vibrating through your entire body and sending a shiver down your spine. One of his hands slid from your waist to the small of your back, his palm pressing firmly as if to anchor you in place. The other tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss further.

“Sergei,” you murmured against his lips, but it was not a protest.

His mouth moved from yours, trailing down your jawline to the sensitive spot just below your ear. His beard scraped lightly against your skin, the sensation both rough and tempting. He chuckled darkly, the sound low and dangerous, before his teeth grazed the column of your neck. The nip was sharp and teasing, enough to make you gasp, and he soothed the sting with a slow, deliberate kiss that had your fingers clutching at his shoulders.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes darkened with lust but still burning with need. “You are my weakness,” he murmured, his voice husky and thick with desire. “You drive me wild.” He leaned his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

You wanted to stay angry. You wanted to tell him that his alluring words were not enough. But the way he looked at you, the raw vulnerability in his voice… it was impossible to ignore.

“You’re infuriating,” you muttered, your hands still pressed against his chest.

His hands roamed your back, sliding under the hem of your shirt just enough for his rough fingertips to brush against your skin. The contrast between his rough hands and your softness made your pulse race, and you could not stop yourself from arching into him. His touch was possessive but tender, his lips mapping a trail of fire down your neck and back to your mouth.

“And you are irresistible,” he replied, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was softer this time, slower, but no less intense.

Your lips found him again. The kiss deepened almost immediately, and you could feel the tension in his body—the barely restrained control with which he was clinging.  His grip tightened, and he pulled you impossibly closer, as if he could not stand the idea of even an inch of space between you. You melted against him, your fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss grew more urgent. The world outside disappeared, leaving only the heat of his body against yours and the desperate way his lips claimed yours.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, his forehead rested against yours. His hands lingered on your back, his thumb brushing circles against your skin as though he could not stop himself.

“We can’t keep doing this,” you whispered, though your voice lacked the conviction it had earlier. “Stop running away. Stop shutting me out.”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. He said simply, "I will do better," but his words carried a weight that made you want to believe him, even if you weren't quite ready to forgive him.

His lips brushed yours one last time, softer now and almost reverent, before his arms wrapped around you. For now, you allowed yourself to lean into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. You weren’t ready to forgive him, not entirely. But as his lips pressed softly against your temple in a silent promise, you knew you couldn’t let go of him either.

[deepseadozing]

intro-post 💭 ...)

🎀 greetings yes, hi hello, goodmorninggg ! (*^ω^) i am matt or matthew. i am artist who primarily makes art of my interests ( rottmnt, anything i deem cute, nostalgic media, etc! ) and my own original projects !

(*>∀<*) more important info below vvv

who are you o.0 ?

🩷 again, i am matt or matthew ( also kiki ) i am genderfluid, any pronouns and also neos >< ( star/byte/fae ). formers users include : mrsleepysoap, mrsleepytello.

my interests include, TMNT ( rottmnt focused ), childhood media ( lalaloopsy, mlp: fim, etc ! ) and all sorts of cute stuff. i am also a lover of character design, sea creatures and zoology ^_^. i am a fan of anything art related, mostly drawing but i love music and theatre ! NOTING!!!! i'm cringe as hell, i use alot of kaomojis, emoticons ( obvious... ) and use words like nya and meow, if you dislike that? RUN!!!!! O_O

what'z all this for >_< ?

🌸 this account is used to most my work, my drawings my personal projects etc ! i also just like to ramble on here. i am hoping to start leaning towards posting an array of things ! you can also find me on: my twitter and tiktok uwaah ! (*´ω｀)

BONUS BONUS BONUS !

🍨MY TAGS ! a proper tagging system so it's easier to go through my account !

#matts-art - my art in general ^.^

#matts-ocs - my ocs

#matts-rambles - BIG rambles, either my projects, interests or even more serious topics ( the last one will be rare dw... ).

BOUNDARIES , IMPORTANT INFO.

Do not interact ! basic dni, prosh*p ( ex. tcest ), ns*fw / 18+ accounts. Important note ! rise!april x turtles shippers are on thin ice, feel free to interact with my posts but i will most likely not interact back.

Important ! i am a minor, any inappropriate comments made towards my art and especially me are not allowed ( ex. nsfw jokes ), i'd really appreciate not having comments on how you much you wanna bang bang the character i draw, lighter jokes are still on thin ice. i also don't condone actively flirting, again i'm a minor so i find this very creepy.

Please follow my boundaries accordingly, anyone who breaks these will be respectfully blocked ^_^ Also please let it be known, I'd appreciate it if people used tone-tags/indicators with me.

💗💗 thank you so much for reading ᯓᡣ𐭩 i wish you well and have a wonderful day, nyaaa (*≧∀≦) !!!!!!

[janamelie]

New Red Dwarf Challenge

Day 25: Favourite fanfic, fanart, or fan-related work (Part 1)

I can’t pick just one, so I am doing two rec lists.  One rec per author.  Lister / Rimmer unless otherwise stated.

This isn’t supposed to be any kind of definitive list, just some personal favourites.  Merry Christmas!

@lord-valery-mimes - “Coitus Interruptus” (M).  Lister and Rimmer get cockblocked by Talkie Toaster.  I said what I said.  Hilarious.

@veronica-rich - “Therapy” (E).  Several years before Snacky, this writer anticipated Doug by having Rimmer get therapy.

RoseCathy - “In My Eyes” (G).  Yes, I said G. ;)  An AU where shy, awkward optician Arnold Rimmer nurses a hopeless - or is it? - crush on his charming young assistant Dave Lister and can’t get up the nerve to ask him out.  Help comes from a most unlikely source…

This is, quite simply, adorable fluff of the fluffiest kind.  Heartwarming.

@cazflibs - “The Morning After” (M).  Hilarious crack where Lister wakes up after drunkenly celebrating his birthday to find he ended up partying with a bevy of recent Red Dwarf guest characters.

Kronette - “Back To Life” (E).  Ace and an alternate version of Lister play Cupid for “Back To Earth” era Lister and Rimmer.

Gingertime (Attheborder) - “The High Road Is Hard To Find” (T).  Technically Lister / Kochanski but mostly gen.  Sadly unfinished, but it’s so good I’m reccing it anyway.  Author summary - It’s Kochanski’s turn to be the hero.

Queen_Fiend (pau22) - “A Record Of My Life As A Human, By Kryten 2X4B 523P” (T).  Kryten’s journal whilst briefly human during “DNA”.  He struggles with his newly human feelings for Lister and a jealous Rimmer.  Yes, a Lister / Kryten fic but it’s human Kryten experiencing one-sided feelings for Lister.  Clarifying that in the hope that this fic will get more readers as it really deserves them.

@downonthepharm-red-dwarf - “Buzz”. Hilarious crack involving a talking vibrator.  Yes, really.

Tunglo - “Ship’s Summer” (E).  Author summary - Rimmer gets what he's always wanted. But it's Rimmer, so of course it isn't that simple. 

Horselizard - “All In The Mind” (E).  Author summary - There comes a time in every Red Dwarf slash writer's career when they must write a Terrorform fic. ;) Porn without plot... almost.  Smoking hot.

@fecklesheckleshacklesschmeckles

End of Part 1. Part 2 here. https://www.tumblr.com/janamelie/770805561939886080/new-red-dwarf-challenge?source=share

[spring-siblings]

"You hate yourself. I hate myself. Common interests."

For @thehistoricalbook for @narlieweek Osemanverse Secret Santa. Happy holidays! Hope you enjoy!

Ace of Hearts | A Solitaire fanfic

I immediately regret opening the text.

Michael: wanna go to the cinema on monday?

It is ridiculous that such a seemingly innocuous question could get me so worked up, for reasons I don't really want to delve into.  

Monday is Valentine’s Day.  

Ordinarily, this fact would be inconsequential to me.  Ordinarily, I would not consider having plans on Valentine’s Day.  Ordinarily, I would not have anyone to make plans with.  I would sit in my room, and start watching a film, and drink diet lemonade, and not think too much about what day it was.

But lately things have not been ordinary.

Last week, standing on the roof of Higgs as it burned, Michael and I kissed.  We haven’t really discussed what that means.  Maybe we should have.  Maybe if we had, Michael wouldn’t be asking me out on Valentine’s Day.

I’ve never been asked out on Valentine’s Day before.  I’ve never been asked out, period.  I’ve never been in anything remotely in the realm of a romantic relationship before.  I’m not even sure if I want a boyfriend.  What does ‘having a boyfriend’ even mean?

Michael and I aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend.  At least I don’t think so.  No, we definitely aren’t, because that is the sort of thing you confirm before assuming, right?  

I stare at Michael’s text.

Maybe he isn’t really asking me out.  Maybe he just wants to hang out again like we have been doing.  Maybe he doesn’t even realize what day Monday is.  Maybe I’m freaking out for no reason.

I tap the text box.  The cursor blinks back at me while I consider what to reply. 

Tori: monday the 14th?

Michael: yeah

Shit.  So he does know.

Tori: why?

Michael: why not?

He is asking me out on Valentine’s Day because he thinks we are boyfriend and girlfriend when we definitely aren’t, and I am going to have to tell him that and ruin our relationship and never talk to him again.  Probably.  Possibly.  

My phone buzzes again.

Michael: you mentioned that your family all had plans, so I thought you might want to hang out

Mum and Dad have a dinner reservation, Charlie has plans with Nick, and even Oliver has a playdate.  Ordinarily, this would mean an evening to myself to rot in my room, which honestly isn’t any different than any other night.  But lately I’ve been trying to do things.  And doing things with Michael makes them less awful.

I debate whether or not I should go for ten minutes before Michael texts me again.

Michael: sooo do you want to?

I sigh.  The truth is that I really do want to spend the day with Michael.  Why can’t it be that simple?  Is it not enough that I just like being around him, without getting into what that means, or what label to put on our relationship?  I contemplate for another ten minutes before replying.

Tori: sure

It is going to be awful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On Monday evening, the doorbell rings, so I get up to answer it before Charlie does.  Mum and Dad and Oliver are thankfully out already, and I’ve been waiting in the living room for Michael’s arrival in the hope of avoiding any questions from Charlie.  It’s not that I want to hide anything from him, but I know he’s going to ask about Michael and whether we’re officially going out, and I don’t know what to tell him.  I don’t even know what the answer is.  So I should probably figure that out first.

I wrench open the door, and it’s not Michael on the other side, but Nick.  He’s carrying a bunch of red, heart-shaped balloons in one hand, and a teddy bear in the other.  The teddy bear is holding a handmade card with a picture of him and Charlie on the front.  The whole thing is covered in heart stickers.

“Oh,” he says, clearly expecting Charlie.  “Hi, Tori.”

“Hi.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence when he smiles that toothless, puppy-dog smile at me.  

“Charlie is in his room,” I tell him, and step aside to let him in.  

As he steps over the threshold, Charlie comes bounding down the stairs and launches himself at Nick.  Somehow Nick manages to catch him, despite his hands being full.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Nick says into Charlie’s shoulder.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Charlie returns before letting go and promptly getting tangled in the balloon strings.  He and Nick both giggle as they work to free him.

I leave them to it and return to my spot in the living room.  I can still hear them gushing over each other’s gifts.

“Oh, he’s adorable!  I love him!  Did you make this yourself?”

“I did!”

“Here, open mine.”

“I love it!  That’s so thoughtful!  I love you!”

“I love you!”

They can be a bit sickening sometimes.  Like the stomach ache you get after you eat too much sugar.

Somehow, my brother has a sappy, adorable, ‘90s rom-com relationship.  Nothing makes him happier, and it’s exactly what he deserves, so of course I’m happy for him.  

I hear Nick and Charlie leave and I slump further into the couch.  I can’t tell if what I’m feeling is nausea or envy.  

There is something so obvious and effortless and exceptional about Nick-and-Charlie.  They’re so open about their feelings.  Even if they didn’t say it a dozen times a day in various ways, with the way they hold hands, the way they look at each other, it’s clear to anyone that they’re mad for each other.  

I wonder if that is what Michael is expecting.

I jump when there’s a knock at the door.  I stand and grit my teeth.  If Michael is on the other side of it with a heart-shaped box of chocolates and a bouquet of red roses, I am going to slam the door in his face.

I open the door, and there he is.  No chocolates, no roses, no Valentine’s paraphernalia of any kind.  But he is wearing a red T-shirt that is suspiciously on-theme.  Of course he isn’t wearing a coat.

“Hello!” he trills when he sees me.

“Hi.”

“Sorry I didn’t bring my bike,” he says while I put on my coat.  “The roads are still too snowy for it.”  

This has been an exceptionally snowy winter.

“I don’t mind the walk,” I say.  

We set out, and it’s snowing lightly.  The streets are quiet, and the snow makes the whole world quiet, and Michael and I are quiet as we walk together through it.  It’s beautiful.  But I can’t fully appreciate it with all the noise in my head.

I don’t want to ask Michael, ‘What are we?’ partially because I might actually die of embarrassment if I did, but mostly because I’m afraid I won’t like his answer.  I’m not even sure what I would want his answer to be.

Instead, I ask, “What are we seeing?”  I stupidly didn’t think to ask earlier, and I belatedly realized that which movie he wants to see may indicate what his intentions are.

“They’re playing Amélie.”

Shit.  I love that movie.  And it also happens to be probably the most romantic movie that I actually like.

“You said you liked that movie, right?” he asks when I don’t respond.

“Yeah.”  I rewatched it recently, but I never actually finished it.  

We lapse into silence again.

On the high street, we walk past a shop with a display of red lingerie in the window with a sign reading, ‘For that special someone.’

I stare straight ahead, but somehow I can see both the display on my right and Michael on my left in my peripheral vision, and I’m trapped between them.  I shiver.

I stuff my fists deeper into my pockets and raise my shoulders so the collar of my coat comes up over my ears.  I peer sideways at Michael in his red t-shirt.  “Aren’t you ever cold?”

“Nope,” he says.  I can see his breath in the air and he turns to me.  “I��m…hot blooded!  Check it and see!”

I quicken my pace and leave him behind me as he continues to sing Foreigner’s ‘Hot Blooded’.  

“I’ve got a fever of a hundred and three!”

I roll my eyes.  God, I hate that song.  I hear his footsteps as he catches up to me.

“Come on baby, do you do more than dance?” he sings into my ear.

“Please stop,” I say, looking straight ahead.

“Am I annoying you?”

Yes.  “I’m cold.”

He drapes his arm over my shoulders and I consider shrugging him off, but he is actually quite warm, so I just trudge through the cold beside him.

“I’m hot blooded, I’m hot blooded,” he sings to himself before he stops.

I’m aware that someone being cheerful is a shitty reason to be annoyed with them.  It’s not exactly that I’m annoyed with Michael.  I’m sort of annoyed with the world in general for no particular reason.  Because I’m a pessimistic idiot.  Maybe I’m just making things up in my head to get sad about. 

Michael’s joy can be infectious.  I wish I wasn’t so resistant.  I wish I could just let his joy burrow into me and make a home.  Like how warmth always seeps into the cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We arrive at the cinema, where a giant heart is displayed in the window.  The lobby is filled with couples: couples holding hands, couples whispering to each other, couples laughing, couples kissing.  I’m not sure what else I should have expected on Valentine’s Day.

I unzip my coat; the heaters must be on full blast and it’s stuffy in here.

Michael and I weave through all the couples and eventually settle into our seats.  One of the couples from the lobby sit behind us and start giggling to each other insufferably.  I wonder if it is going to be like this for the next two hours.  I wonder if I can slam my head into the seat in front of me with enough force to knock myself out.

The lights dim, and thankfully they do shut up by time the movie starts. 

About halfway through, I realize that I am enjoying myself.  Or rather, I realize that I was enjoying myself.  Because my absorption in the movie is interrupted by a wet, fleshy, clicky sort of sound behind me.  The couple are now making out.  Like, really obnoxiously.  Why do people have to ruin everything?

I stare at the seat in front of me.  The noises do not stop.  In fact, they’ve escalated.  I don’t think I’ve cringed so hard in my life.

I peer over at Michael, who appears oblivious to the whole thing.  Then I noticed that his arm is perched on the armrest between us, with his palm sort of half-opened, like maybe he’s hoping I’ll put my hand in his.  I don’t.  My hands are wedged between my knees, and I dig my nails into my palm, trying to tune out the noises behind me.

The rest of the movie passes slowly, but I can’t seem to focus too much on it.  As soon as the credits roll, I stand up and grab my coat.  I involuntarily glance at the couple behind me.  They seem to have just realized that they’re in public.  I look away and shuffle out of the row of seats.

Michael follows me out of the cinema.  He suggests we get something to eat at Cafe Riviere and I agree, mainly because I can’t stand a silent, awkward walk home.

Inside the cafe is decorated for Valentine’s Day, with paper hearts and cupids hung on the wall and from the ceiling.  We order our food, and Michael talks about how much he enjoyed the movie, and how he understands why I like it, and something about the cinematography.  I nod and mhm along as needed, but I think he can tell I’m distracted.  Our food arrives before he asks me about it.

When we finish eating, I suggest we head home.  It’s grown dark, and it’s still snowing.  Michael and I walk side by side, watching the snow fall on the river as we go.

Michael doesn’t say anything, and I wonder if I’ve ruined the evening by being a misanthropic shit.

I’m about to ask him as much, but as I turn, I slip on some ice and lurch forward.  My hands are in my pockets, but before my face smashes into the pavement, Michael catches me.  One of his hands grips my arm, while the other clutches my hand, which is braced to break my fall.

He steadies me before letting go.

“Thanks,” I mutter.

“No problem.”

We continue walking.

“You’ve been really quiet today,” he says.  “Is something the matter?”

“I’m always quiet.”

“Well, more than usual.  Come on, spit it out.”

I consider saying nothing, or brushing him off with some generic excuse.  But as the seconds tick by, I can feel him looking at me so intently and finally I blurt, “I don’t want things to be weird between us!”

“Are things weird between us?”  He sounds genuinely surprised.  I realize this may be one of those things I’ve made up in my head and gotten upset about for no reason.

He waits for me to answer.  I stop walking and so does he.  I turn my head to look at him, feeling mortified.

“Why did you ask me out on Valentine’s day?”  It comes out angrier than I intend.

His face contorts with anger and confusion.  “Why did I—?”  He sighs.  “Why do you think I did?”

I can’t say it.  I just stare at him.

I watch Michael’s face return to normal as understanding slowly sets in.  “Did you think I was planning some romantic candlelit dinner with chocolate and roses and everything?” 

I feel my face getting hot and I don’t say anything.  That is exactly what I thought, which is entirely too embarrassing to admit. 

“Because that wasn’t what I was going for at all,” Michael continues.  “Honestly, I had forgotten it was Valentine’s Day until you mentioned it.” 

I bite my lip and look down.  “Oh.” 

It’s silent for a moment, besides the sound of the river.  Then Michael says, “Tori,” softer this time.  “I don’t have, like, any expectations or anything.  I just like spending time with you.” 

It’s a relief to hear, but I don’t entirely trust it.  “Why?”

He looks at me with this indecipherable expression.  “Because you’re…you.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

He sighs a little.  “It’s a compliment, Spring.  Trust me.”

I do, so I say, “Okay.”  And we keep walking.  And things feel a bit better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When we make it back to my house, I see Nick’s car parked outside, which means that Charlie has beaten me home.

I linger outside the door, on the front stoop so that I’m standing almost at eye-level with Michael.

“I’m sorry that I made today weird,” I tell him.

“S’okay.  I don’t mind weird,” he says and then pauses thoughtfully.  “I mean…society kinda makes today weird, doesn’t it?” he asks rhetorically.  “All these unrealistic expectations about performing romance in a very specific, public display, when really doesn’t it make more sense to just show the people you care about that you care about them?”

He says it in the general sense, but he’s looking at me like he means just me, like he’s saying he cares about me.

“You care about me?”  It sounds like I’m teasing him, but only because it feels so strange.  For someone to really care about me, and to say it.

“You know I do.”  He says it so nonchalantly, like it’s obvious.

I nod.  I know that.  I’m trying to get used to believing it.  

I thought the only people I really cared about were Charlie and Oliver, but I realize that that isn’t true.  

So I force myself to tell him, “I do, too.  I care about you, too.”  Because it’s important that I say it, and that he hears it, and that he believes it.

He gives me a big, cheesy grin.  “I know.”

He looks so earnest and he blushes a little, so I decide to do something.  

I slowly lean in and I kiss him.  Maybe it’s meaningless, or maybe it isn’t, but it’s nice, so I decide not to worry about it.

We break apart and I look up at him and he gives me this little smile that sort of makes me want to kiss it away.  Instead, I stare at his face for a moment, taking in his joy, and I feel myself smile back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say.  I turn around, open the door, and step inside before I overthink it.

We haven’t made any plans, but I want to see him, and I know he wants to see me.  Even if I don’t really understand why, I know he does.  I’ve chosen to accept it rather than question it.

I shut the door behind me.  

“Tori?” Charlie calls out, making me jump.  I suppose this is payback, as I’m usually the one startling him.

I lean in the doorway to the living room and cross my arms.  Charlie and Nick are sitting together on the couch.  It is very obvious from their postures and disheveled hair that I have interrupted them making out.  Ugh.

“Where were you?” Charlie asks.

“Out.” 

“By yourself?”

“...No.”  Charlie clearly expects more of an answer, and I figure it is better to give him something rather than let him speculate.  “I was out with Michael.”

“Oh,” Charlie says in an all-too-interested tone.  “How is he?”

“Fine.”  I sound too defensive.  I uncross my arms.  “He’s…good.”

Charlie smiles at me.  “Good.”

I smile back briefly, then duck back into the hall and head upstairs.

Tomorrow I will see Michael, and maybe I will enjoy myself, and maybe I will tell Charlie about it.  Maybe Michael will keep wanting to see me, even if I don’t understand why.  Maybe I won’t be sad all the time.  Maybe everything will turn out okay.

[nervocat]

ok post abt vil with a gummy smile let's GO (putting a cut below)

So to explain why I see him with one is mainly bc um I'm insecure abt my own gummy smile at times, hence why I give a lot of my favorites gummy smiles, but with vil it's like. He's a very famous person, so to me it's like .. idk. It's rlly hard to explain 😭😭 pls tell me you guys know what I'm trying to say.. it affirms to me that yeah gummy smiles are OK and COOL

Now his feelings towards his gummy smile would be slightly complicated?? He just wouldn't hate it, be ashamed of it or be THAT insecure abt it. He knows it's not uncommon to have one, not at all, but he hides it a lot from the public (mutual in law @/v-anrouge (aster) said this.. bc devil @'d him abt my ask I sent to devil.. which was scary.. but I hadn't thought abt that so it's getting a mention) so that complicates things I feel. I know there are gummy smiles that show more gum than others, mine show my gums quite a bit, so I feel like if he had one (I say he does) like that it'd be kinda of hard to hide — I struggle hiding mine, so I just cover my mouth with my hand when laughing — which I think he does when in public at least. He's probably practiced a lot to hide his smile while doing famous things or whatever but he doesn't always hide it

And if someone he knew had a moment of insecurity/is insecure abt their gummy smile (ME (sometimes)), he's just casual abt it and is like “It's not uncommon to have one, you know. And I think it looks fine on you” or smth like that, he just wouldn't mention HE has one. That's for you to figure out

ok I think I said everything I wanted to say IS THIS GOOD GUYS BE HONEST

[rika-mortis]

Made a silly alternate version for the previous comic

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽｀)ﾉ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!

[anewp0tat0]

this is not one of the like 5 video projects I'm supposed to be finishing, this is an animatic meme that I'm pretty sure is still going around which I didn't wanna miss like last time I missed an animatic meme(it still sits in my WIP folder. it's been 3 years) so yes that's why it exists. and also because I'm kinda shocked I haven't seen it yet. sorry if it HAS been made.

[deoidesign]

Thinks about my next series again... I drew the icon for it!

I'm planning to have it launched within a year! I'm hoping for summer 2025. I want to make a prelaunch page before Time and Time Again ends so people can subscribe if they're interested, but I'm worried the series return would be too early...

[rebornrosess]

A WORLD OF NOISE: THE ZABAJABA JUNGLE

ZABA by Glass Animals is 10 YEARS OLD TODAY.

A poem/stream of consciousness I wrote about ZABA on a rainy September night in 2022, one month after seeing Glass Animals live. ZABA was the album by which I found Glass Animals in 2018, and its abstract yet visceral nature continues to fascinate me. The more I listened, the more I felt I could understand the imagery drawn across its 11 tracks.

Essentially, I believe ZABA can be understood as a Queer reading and apologue of Plato’s allegory of the cave. There are many lines that allude to a (Queer) awakening from perceived societal constraints such as in Walla Walla (“it’s a ruse, all these creatures are a lie” & “i clap my hand and they’re gone into the night”), likely referencing the shadows projected by the puppet showmen in Plato’s allegory. Thus, the anguish expressed in songs predating ZABA’s release such as in Golden Antlers and in Exxus are symptomatic of a speaker trapped in a cave, unable to escape a deeper feeling of unease because they are only seeing the reality projected to them by a cisheteronormative system. It is only when the speaker escapes this metaphorical cave in Flip, the opening track of ZABA, (“I’m gonna shake my fetters / I’m breaking loose”), that they finally enter the confusing, overwhelming, but beautiful and fluid “world of noise” mentioned in Pools (and sonically created in Intruxx). Over the course of ZABA, the speaker wrestles with their preconceived notions of reality (Walla Walla uses a ton of imagery from The Matrix), relationships, gender, and sexuality, while simultaneously feeling betrayed by their family and society (Hazey and Toes).

The B-Side of ZABA dips into existential dread, as the speaker mourns the time they lost to the incomplete reality they had accepted in the cave, and the effects it had on their mental health (Wyrd), climaxing in Cocoa Hooves, as the speaker (or someone else), confronts them(selves) and the changes they have undergone in the ZABAJABA jungle. The speaker must choose if they wish to stay in the confusing yet euphoric jungle, or self-destruct (“set [their] wings on fire”) and return to the cave after flying too close to the sun and after indulging too deeply in their primal instinct. However, just as the freed prisoner in Plato’s allegory, the speaker runs the risk of never being able to live in blissful ignorance again, as their eyes may never re-adjust to the incomplete, crafted reality of the cave.

The last track of the album, JDNT, presents a conclusion as ambiguous as the title Dave refuses to explain. It is possible the speaker is accepting their doomed fate as prophecized to them by the antagonist in Wyrd, or radically accepting their outcast status, enjoying the “life untamed.” And perhaps, in the end, they triumph over their internal turmoil by recognizing it only has power over them if they allow it to, as it cannot “breathe without [them].” And thus, they return to the Earth, unfettered and born anew.