#You will see me reblogging this the more ideas i get

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello Miss Raven!! So it’s unfortunately a pretty well known fact that the TWST English translation has a bad habit of botching important dialogue and lore, and even removing lines altogether, and I saw a reblog a day ago regarding that.

The original post was a fact sheet on Leona & how he interacts with women (alongside other stuff but that’s besides the point). And the reblog I was looking at was saying that the English translation just makes it sound like he’s a feminist, when it’s implied in the original JP game that the beastwomen tend to be more aggressive, giving Leona a reason to be afraid of them. And that reminded me that on the TWST fandom wiki under Leona’s trivia he said he’s intimidated by them, and every time I see that I remember that just can’t seem to find that detail at all anywhere in the English game.

So I wanted to ask you what did the original JP game say about how male and female beastmen interact with each other and why Leona would be cautious around them? Because this is a piece of info that I really would have liked to see in ENG, and I’m kind of annoyed I didn’t know about this before.

I believe this is the Leona lore post you’re referring to? Both TWST wikis (the fandom one and the .gg one) state the same trivia point about Leona being “intimidated” by beastwoman. I’m assuming this is where the reblogger picked up the idea of beastwomen being more “aggressive”, and this being Leona’s reasoning for being “intimidated” by them.

In a nutshell, the claims of Leona being a feminist only in EN + beastwomen aggression and Leona being intimidated by that is not true. The “Leona is a feminist” take was around long before the official English localization, and that’s because the Japanese text also has Ruggie (Leona Ceremonial Robes vignettes) and Cater (Cater’s School Uniform vignette) commenting that Leona is “nice” and “respectful” to women. To claim that they made Leona feminist in the localization is false. They never use the word “feminist” in JP or EN though; the label came from the fandom interpreting this bit of lore as Leona being more considerate of women.

As for the reasoning! Leona states in his Ceremonial Robes vignettes that “[Beastwomen are] already way stronger than us. Goin’ against them only brings more trouble.” I believe that someone probably misunderstood that second line of dialogue as Leona fearing the strength/aggression of beastwomen. He never actually indicates or implies that he feels that way. However, these vignettes being cited for the trivia on the wiki likely led to some confusion.

So if Leona isn’t afraid of beastwomen and their physical fitness, how is that second line supposed to be interpreted? Well, let’s think about his character. Leona is a smart guy. He dislikes having to put forth effort into pointless things, especially if he can plan ahead and avoid it. As I tend to say whenever I talk about his Big Brain Cells, Leona likes to work smarter, not harder. Again, look at this line:

“Goin’ against them only brings more trouble.”

It’s likely Leona just wanting to appease his sister-in-law to avoid having to deal with the fallout of not fulfilling her request. It would otherwise be a pain to deal with—and we’ve seen Leona act in various ways to avoid such pains. For example, he goes to Playful Land with Jack to make sure his dorm member comes back alright (or else Leona is responsible for the consequences), purposefully not choosing a vice dorm leader so he doesn’t have someone to challenge his authority, and generally has convenient excuses prepared to get out of things he doesn’t want to do.

If we want to think of it from another angle, this better fits what we already know of Leona’s cunning. He knows when to call it quits and make a strategic surrender. The most notable example of this occurs early in book 6, when he stops fighting Styx agents and willingly gives himself up to them. He also throws in the towel in book 2 and refuses to play because he already knows that his team is destined to lose to Malleus since they didn’t succeed in eliminating him beforehand. In the situation with Leona’s sister-in-law asking for a picture of him in his robes, Leona is acquiescing because that’s just the smart thing to do. Why even argue if he knows it won’t be fruitful? It’s wasted effort.

I would like to add that physical strength isn’t even the only factor here. Ruggie points out in one of his Chats that “Girls have both the grit and the camaraderie to triumph when the goin’ gets tough.” Grit refers to courage or resolve. The latter, resolve, lends credence to the idea that beastwomen are also determined or strong-willed. In which case… yeah, I don’t think they’d back down from an argument/verbal fight or a physical one.

If we circle back to the previous paragraph, it supports the interpretation that Leona giving in to what his sister-in-law wants is the result of him wanting to avoid a pointless and prolonged fight if he refuses. Cuz like… why waste that time and energy to come out of it with nothing, right?

If it was true that Leona listens to what women day only because he’s actually scared of beastwomen, then that doesn’t explain his interactions with non-beastwomen. Why would he agree to attend a party for an enchanted portrait (Rosaria), which has no means of harming him? He agreed to the proposition as soon as he heard Rosaria is a lady; there didn’t need to be a threat or significant verbal pushback for him to go. As Leona states in Cater’s School Uniform vignette, “Portrait or not, I respect ladies and Rosaria is a lady.” (I think the reblogger may have been confused and was actually referring to THIS line being made “more feminist” in EN. In JP, Leona says something closer to, “Even if it’s a portrait, a woman is a woman.” JP does not have the “I respect ladies” portion.)

Sooo, in conclusion… Leona agreeing to do as his sister-in-law says does not necessarily mean he is intimidated by beastwomen; as I’ve explained, there is an alternate explanation with evidence in canon: he wants to avoid pointless hassle.

I hope this helps to clear things up ^^ I know the localization isn’t exactly perfect, but let’s take care to not assume changes or mistranslations!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: Sleepover

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

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: Bucky sleeps over.

It’s giving

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

“Should be good as new,” Bucky sits back on the footstool and rubs his neck. “Don’t know about me, though.” 

You lean on the counter with a sheepish smile, “I told you, I’d call the landlord.” 

“Uh huh? And try to light this thing in the meantime? You’d set yourself on fire,” he closes the over door and stands. “I like you unsinged, dreamy.” 

“I have a microwave,” you roll your eyes. 

“Oh, you mean the one that sparks and sounds like military tank?” He challenges as he packs up his toolbox. 

“It makes the food hot,” you rebuff. 

“Uh huh. Maybe the radiation is getting to ya,” he teases as he puts the box on the counter. 

He stretches his arms and as he brings them down, he yawns, covering his mouth. He turns his other wrist to check the time. 

“God, it’s late,” he says. 

“Is it--” you choke on your words as you see the time on the stove. “Oh gosh, Buckyyy.” You whine. “You shouldn’t have stayed so long.” 

“And let you burn this place down? You’re going to give me flashbacks. God, I think it was... 1938. Steve was living with his ma still, taking care of her, and he left some newspapers by the stove...” 

“1938...” you echo. “Right, I’m not going to say it.” 

“You better not,” he pokes you in the ribs playfully. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t waste any more of your time. You know, I’ll be just fine walking through the dark. I might get overtime pay if I can wrangle in some hoodlums--” 

“Oh, stop,” you huff, “I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow. I know the couch is a bit small.” 

“Ah, doll, you don’t gotta--” 

“God, you sound like such an old man. ‘Doll, you want a lozenge?’” You mock as you throw your hands up. “Can’t anyone do something nice for you?” 

“What? What do you mean? I’m joshing ya,” he follows you as you spin and march out of the kitchen. 

“Sure, I know. Always a joke with you.” 

“What is this about? The date?” He asks. 

“Well... I thought you’d be more excited,” you shrug. “I was really excited for you. Now I feel like I’m forcing you.” 

“You kinda are,” he leans again the wall as you open the closet, the door blocking him from your view. 

“Forcing you to go out with a sophisticated, gorgeous, woman? I know, it’s torture.” 

“Trust me, I know what torture is. It’s not a joke,” he crosses his arms. You blanch. 

“I-- sorry, I didn’t mean--” you stutter as you kick the door shut. 

He laughs, “got ya again.” He taps the end of your nose then takes the blanket from you. “Relax, I said yes. I’ll put on a tie and comb my hair. Look human.” 

“Awesome,” you smile and he squints. 

“Mm, and you always do that,” he accuses. “Those puppy dog eyes.” 

“I’m more of a cat person,” you giggle. “There’s a pillow on the back of the couch and—oh, want a hot chocolate. I usually have one before bed.” 

“Hot chocolate?” He repeats as he goes to the couch and drops the blanket on top. 

“Sure! I got the oreo stuff.” 

“Nah, I’m good,” he sits and rolls his shoulder. 

“Well, you snooze, you lose. More for me,” you tilt your head and skip back into the kitchen. You flip the kettle on and sweep back into the living room. 

“What about you?” Bucky asks before you can leave him. “You still coming? You find someone?” 

“Oh, I’ll be there but I’m still looking for a date,” you say. “Don’t worry, I got a few ideas.” 

“Right, lined up the block, huh?” 

You stick your tongue out and flit into the bedroom, “whatever.” 

You close the door behind you and change into your pajamas. The fluffy pink shorts go perfectly with the tee with the bunny on the front. You step into your slippers and go back out. 

As you come out, Bucky pushes his hair back and groans. He has his shirt off as he sits back and pushes his arms wide. He cracks his neck again as your eyes meet. 

“Last call for hot chocolate?” You offer. 

“No thanks,” he says as he leans forward. 

You smile and scurry into the kitchen. The tension rises with the steam of the kettle. You weren’t expecting to see him like that. Well, it’s just his chest and his abs. Abs? He has abs. Holy moly.  

You look down and poke your pudge. Maybe he can give you some tips. You peel back the lid from the canister of chocolate powder; a start would be cutting down on the sweets. 

The hardwood shifts and his footsteps circles around to the kitchen door. You glance over as you spoon the mix into a mug. You put the lid back on and shove the can back into the cupboard. 

“Water?” He asks. 

“Sure, fridge,” you point. 

The kettle clicks and you take it of its heater. You pour and glance over as Bucky pulls open the fridge. He bends to search the mostly bare shelves. You’re overdue for a shop. 

“The jug should be--” the water laps over the side of the mug and hits your fingers. “Ow! Ayeee!” 

You slam the kettle down and shake your hand. Bucky’s so fast, you squeal as he grabs you and spins you to face the sink. He flips the cold water on and shoves your hand under the flow. You whine again at the frigid splash. 

“Ah, Bucky, I’m fine. It’s just a little water,” you tug but he keeps a hold of you. 

“I told you to be careful,” he huffs. “You should pay attention.” 

“I was trying to help,” you say. 

“And I’m tryna help you stay outta trouble,” he reproaches. 

“I’m okay. Really, it’s nothing.” You shut off the tap and wriggle free of his grasp. “See?” 

The burn stings but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You’re more affected by his suddenness. You can feel his hard strength throbbing in your wrist. If he didn’t want to let go, he wouldn’t have to. That thought needles behind your ears. 

He drops his shoulders, “sorry, dream. Really. I was just... you scared me, you know? I hear ya make those noises and I get a bit... uptight.” 

You exhale and give a small smile, “no, I... appreciate it. I mean, you can’t turn hero mode off, can ya?” 

He chuckles and the air thins, “yeah. Guess that’s what you can call it.” 

[soaps-mohawk]

I've got some very exciting news

Since the start of October is about a week away (I know how gross where did the year go?) and we all know that marks the start of the kinkiest month of the year, I've got some exciting news

I am doing Kinktober this year, as I think I've stated before previously. I'm not doing every day again this year since I had to make my own list and just didn't really feel inspired by some and just didn't have the energy to write others.

Then I got a brilliant idea.

This year's Kinktober will have a...bit of a theme...

Allow me to use a meme to explain

Yes, all of my kinktober fics will be centered around Kyle, our beloved Gaz, Mr. Severely Underappreciated And That's A Crime.

The fics are all kink-related. Some are just straight kinks, others may involve some uh...other things 😏

I'll be releasing a more in-depth post closer to October 1st that will also serve as the masterlist (and I will be linking it on my navigation post as its own link). I have an update schedule planned for Kinktober (and CRCB will still be ongoing during October but we will be having a conversation about that fic separately) and will be posting on my taglist blog for Kinktober fics as well since that blog is for everything that gets released on this blog. So if you would like to be notified of when Kinktober fics come out, give that blog a follow and turn on notifications. (I sound like a YouTuber)

Anyway, that's the plan. We're giving Kyle some much deserved attention and love for Kinktober. I will also have some other things going on over on my Patreon for paid-Patrons since I can't make NSFW stuff public, so if you're interested go and check that out.

But yes, so much content is coming in October for y'all and honestly I'm really excited. You'll get more detailed info in the Kinktober masterlist which will probably be dropping closer to the weekend or maybe even next Monday. We'll see. I'll also be posting some news about CRCB here soon as well, also probably closer to the end of the week.

Anyway, I hope you all have a lovely day and I'll be back regularly scheduled weekly posting (asks and comment reblogs) here probably in a couple hours from when this post originally posted. If you're seeing this later then...I've probably already started 💚

[evanescencelovrr]

Part 10!! 🥺 this one was so cute reader and simon ughh. Got me sobbing and clenching the sheets. Romcom vibes fr. I believe in happy endings 🥹 pls enjoy! Feel free to like comment & reblog

Masterlist here ✉️

Back on campus, you shifted your buckled bag and sighed, foggy white air leaving your lips. Snow didn’t fall yet—but soon it would. Now you eyed the foggy evening, seeing faintly the blue sky that was darkening within the hour. Your boots crunched on the ground, your fur lined jacket hugging you to keep you warm.

You found Simon walking out of the gym at the same time, long legs striding and carrying a duffle bag over his shoulder. He wore a beanie—tufts of blonde hair sticking out the side. His dark bomber jacket was unzipped, revealing a thicker fleece hoodie under. He wore his balaclava mask, eyes peering through and into the darkness.

Maybe you responded this way since you felt more comfortable now—but you called out to him which made him pause. He recognized that chirpy voice.

You then strode to him, smaller legs carrying you as fast as possible.

You nearly slipped on iced over part of the sidewalk and yelped, arms flailing.

Your brows raised—eyes wide—

Simon then steadied you by grabbing your arm upright, pursing his brows together, “Lass, you’d better watch your step. One blackeye s’enough for the two of us.”

“Ah—shit. Black ice. Hate that. Anyway—you joining us at Mollys?”

“Fa’ drink or two? I got an exam, lass. Dunno’ if I can make it.” He said, eyes shifting away. His hand warmed when he had steadied you but now pulled away, legs continuing to carry him down the stairs. He carefully watched for any black ice. A cold wind blew against him, making his eyes shut.

You clutched your arms closer to your jacket, following suite.

“A drink or two. Or three. Johnny said it’s on the house.” You shivered, cheeks pink and feeling numb at the cold nipping at it. You couldn’t shake the memory of his hand on your shoulder, and found yourself replaying it.

Should probably focus—

“I’ll see to it, yea? Get goin’ it’s gettin’ late.” Simon said, before opening the door for you.

He scanned his ID in, towering over your form, an arm bracing to hold it open. He watched as you breezed by, hair flowing. He couldn’t help but take note of how much shorter you were—he found it somewhat endearing.

Small but with a bit of spunk.

He cracked a grin at the thought and then followed you, watching as you went down the stairs.

“Good luck on your exam.”

“It’ll be jus’ fine.”

He watched as you then disappeared behind your door, retiring. Simon, left with his thoughts circling of you, stood there. He had half a mind to knock to join you—to go to Mollys. But that damned exam. His eyes shifted away, as his hand curled around the strap of his bag.

He found himself wanting to be around your company more. To hear your jokes and see your contradicting, nervous flits—the way your eyes shifted and finger tapped impatiently. To see you shake a good drink over at Mollys—something about it had him going.

“Damnit…” He’d curse before turning away to his door, keying it open. He then disappeared for the night.

Later on, you had gotten ready. You wore a black skirt that reached your mid thigh, some matching stockings and a longsleeve top. It was a bit slouchy, the collar cut off and hanging off your shoulder. You left your hair down, lining your eyes with black liner.

“Whoo. Do I look good tonight.” You couldn’t help but mutter to yourself in the mirror, applying some gloss.

You then threw on your leather jacket, scarf wrapped around your neck. You shoved on your biker boots, making your way out. It was near freezing and you wore this damned skirt.

“Okay…maybe not the best idea.” You mumbled, sheepishly.

Soon you reached the bar—no sight of Simon which you found yourself inwardly sighing at. You knew he was busy with exams. Apart of you missed his presence.

Johnny and Price arrived—along with a new guy. He was sporting a beard, neatly trimmed. Buzzcut grown out, with strong features. He wore a battered hoodie, something written across it: Straight Outta Ammo.

“Recruit, come on over. This is Kyle. Gaz. Whatever ya’ wanna call him.” Price said, waving you over already. The door shut and you grinned, before hanging your coat up. Price swept his eyes over your attire, then looked at Kyle who shook his head.

“So this the recruit Price been’ telling me about.” At that, your brows raise playfully in surprise, shooting Price a look who grins and jerks his head, rim of the glass nudging his lip.

“Don’t make it seem like the lass is important.” Price then looked over at you when you sat on the barstool next to them.

Kyle was to your left, Price on your right.

Talk about testosterone being high—

“So what, is Kyle working here or?” You ask, looking at Price.

“Gonna start joining shifts yeah.” Kyle says from besides you, hunched as Johnny appears. He’s making the drinks tonight with a devious grin, fire in his eyes. You recognized that look. Oh, he was cooking up something real good.

“Lass, tell me what ya’ cravin’ fer’” His eyes landed on you.

“Whiskey, neat. The usual.” You grin and Kyles’ eyes widen slightly at your confidence.

He turns his head, watching you with interest. First, he was stoked by your ability to even understand Johnny—two—whiskey?

“A woman after my heart.” He said, warmly, making Price choke out a laugh. He swirled his drink, elbows perched on the counter, his long mustache disguising his grin.

“Didn’t know you had one.” You joked, eyes flashing with amusement.

Johnny whistles—Price watching with mild amusement. He isn’t surprised, he knows you have a bite, and the look in your eyes were back. He knew all that studying tired you out a few shifts ago, but seeing it return had the old man revving.

Kyle holds his chest—fake groaning as if hurt. “Now, don’t go stompin’ on it gal.”

You snicker and Johnny then hands you the drink, after pouring it smoothly. You drink, grimacing slightly at the burn. Sighing, you shifted in your stool.

“Tell me, what do you do? Just work at Mollys?” Kyle asked, brow raised. His finger tapped the counter along to the electrical guitar raving in the background.

“Nah—I’m in University. Same one as Simon.”

His eyes meet yours—surprised. “Simon knows ya?”

“He’s the one who hooked her up at Mollys.” Johnny said, leaning against the soda machine. His brow was raised—expecting Kyle to have known. The slow hour helped with the chatter, not having to prance around every second to accommodate customers.

You poked your tongue against your cheek, eyeing Johnny for a moment. His mohawk was a floppy mess.

Seems like Kyle and Simon hadn’t been talking in a minute.

“Damn Brit doesn’t talk.” Kyle muttered which earned him a rough laugh.

Price was entertained by his sulking behavior. He rubbed at his mustache, then eyed the tv displaying the football match.

“Lass, ya’ know ow’ t’do a hurricane shot?” Johnny said deviously, gaining both the mens attention.

You stiffened up slightly, not sure where he was heading with this. Back in your old waitressing days—you’d seen it done. But never had it done yourself to anyone.

“I’ve seen it. Why?” You said, voice low. You peeked from under your lashes to see Johnny, rim to your lips to drink.

Kyles’ eyes couldn’t stay still. He found the window bleary with neon lights to be interesting, whilst Price found himself gazing at the side of your head, brows furrowed as if trying to figure you out.

You were complex—in his eyes. Some small gal joining the team with all this—“aura,” as Johnny called it.

“Think ya’ got the lads interest. Should I say—two of em’.”

Johnny teased and Kyle’s eyes widened by a fraction. He downed his drink. He had a feeling he would need more—as the night got interesting.

Price grumbled, eyes darting away from you, and you sighed. Finally relieved to not have this gaze burning holes in you.

“Wouldn’t want my mustache or hair messed up.” Price grumbled.

“Me neither.” Kyle added.

You began laughing, hand flying to your mouth. It seemed the whiskey was kicking in—and Johnny joined in, catching on. Both your laughter collided in the bar.

“Look at em—worryin’ bout their hair like little lassies do.” Johnny humored and you only laughed harder.

Kyle had a softer look to you, grinning and shaking his head at both your antics.

Meanwhile Price glared like a kicked puppy, the look only making you laugh harder.

Your body shook—twisting to look at Price fully.

“And you’re telling me—he was captain?” You choked out, wiping literal tears. You gasped for air. Kyle chuckled, patting the counter to get Johnnys attention.

“Damn right I was—“

“Another one—“

“A fine smooth bourbon—righ’ up.” Johnny grinned and you weren’t surprised to know Kyle preferred that. A sweeter drink.

“Make one for me too.” You joined in, Kyle catching your somewhat half lidded gaze. You grinned, cheeks lifting.

“You tryna race me?” Kyle raised a brow.

“Might be.”

And that’s how you ended up getting piss drunk. Honestly you needed it. Nights of studying and managing work was not easy. As the hours passed—till it was 1am, Kyle had gotten up to help Johnny with the onslaught of customers. Price eventually joined in, although grumbling about not being able to finish his drink and laze around.

You were hunched, cheek in your palm, dazed and flushed. You watched the team work, Kyle in the kitchen, apron tied. Johnny shaking drinks and Price taking orders.

“Lass, if ya’ weren’t so out f’it—I woulda’ pulled y’er arse up here.” Johnny said, still having energy despite the damn hour. You perked up and languidly looked at him, huffing out a slow laugh. The room was for sure spinning faster than it did before.

“Put me to work. I got it!” You clapped—drawing some customers attention.

Johnny shook his head, placing a lime delicately at the edge of the glass and passing it to the rugged deadbeat man across.

“Enough f’that, lass. Hand it over.” Johnny then turned to you, grasping the glass when you still drank. His fingers bumped your chin. You groaned, giving a slight glare but gave in towards the end.

Just then—amongst the loud chatter and clinks, Simon walked in. He wore his new and improved leather jacket, beanie pulled over his ears. Cheeks and nose flushed slightly red from the cold. Under his jacket he wore a long sleeve knit, and dark jeans.

His eyes then caught onto your hunched and flushed form, grin pulling slightly at his healing lips. He slowly made his way to the bar beside you, nudging you with his arm.

“Aye, how much has she had?” Simon asked immediately to Johnny, when he was met with your slurred mumbles of racing drinks with Kyle.

At the name—Simon sighed.

“Had a good amount, that one.” Johnny tipped his head at you, snickering. Kyle peeked his head out, seeing Simon.

He approached, wiping his hands on the apron and staring.

“She might’ve raced me.” Kyle said sheepishly, scratching his head.

You leaned upright, blinking slowly and arms placed on the bar counter.

“Simon, you finally made it.” You managed to say, head swiveling to look up at him. Your eyeliner was smudged under your eyes, curve of your nose glittering in the light. Your lips parted.

Simon nearly found himself reeling at the sight but remained composed, hand bracing the back of your stool, an arm leaning on the counter, body angled to you.

“I’ve been ere’, lass.”

“Oh.”

How much time had passed?

You didn’t even know. You looked down and Kyle huffed out a laugh before disappearing in the kitchen as Johnny shouted for him.

“Come on, lass you can’t keep up.” Simon said, watching your swaying form on the stool.

“I got it, Si.” You said, mumbling. You moved to stand up and Johnny chucked a water bottle across the area into Simons hand. He held onto it, sure you would need it. At the nickname—he probably thought you were too tuckered out to say his full name, which he found amusing.

But concern flashed in his red rimmed eyes when you approach your jacket, lazily reached over the counter that stood in the way, arm outstretched.

“Ugh—“

“Don’ piss ya’self. I got it.” Simon gently placed his hands on your hips, although only briefly to move you aside as you blocked the mini gate leading behind the counter. He bumped his knee and it opened, letting him in. He swiftly garnered your jacket and turned to you.

He then swung the jacket over your form, pulling your hair out so it didn’t get stuck under.

“Can ya zip up, or d’ya need me for that?” He was testing how out of it you were.

“I-I got it.” You hiccuped and uselessly stared down at your jacket. Your hands fumbled at the zip, and instead of remembering to pull it up, you flicked at the little thing.

You seemed hooked on the sound it made.

“Bloody hell.” Simon grumbled, although amusement flashing in his eyes. Towering over you, he leaned in, pulling you to him.

You wobbled and raised your head up, neon lights flashing against your cheek, highlighting your skin. Purple and blues colored you. It colored Simon as well and in the moment you found yourself wanting to see more. The way his blue irises shined pulled you in even more, the rough eye bags accentuated.

Simon didn’t utter a word as his larger hands clutched the zip and yanked up, swiftly. He was glad the boys weren’t watching—not needing their useless teasing. The bar was busy for a reason.

He led you out, although pinching the corner of your sleeve so you wouldn’t wander off and slip on ice like the drunk puppy you were.

The door slammed shut.

“Oh—your exam. How’d it go?”

You suddenly remembered, cheeks flushed. Your heart was pounding warm and the cold night soothed your nerves a bit.

You tilted your head up, trying to walk forward to chase the wind—but Simons pinched grip at your sleeve stopped you.

“Went jus’ fine. Passed.” Simon muttered and kept his grip. He watched the way your head tipped up as if thirsty for cold air. He’d never seen you drunk—but this was entertaining compared to the dull exam he had. This woke him up now.

“Y’er really are out of it, lass.” Simon gruffly said, now walking forward. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t amused. Boots thudded, keeping a much slower stride to guide you along.

Eventually you led the way forward, remembering where to go from here.

“Ugh—it was Kyle and Johnny. We had a bit of a drinking game.” You snorted and shuddered at the cold.

Just then you felt around your neck and turned to Simon, amused. A grin broke out and he tugged you along by your sleeve—probably dismissing it foe your drunken antic.

“You forgot my scarf.”

“Wot—“ He slowed down and faced you, shoulder tilting. “D’ya need it? I can get it f’ya.”

“No no I’ll just get it next shift…” You mumbled off, as the two of you walked. Now Simon was ahead, the store lights flashing against his leather jacket he wore, and hair.

All of a sudden a comfortable silence fell between you two. You knew he was wearing the jacket you took time to fix—him in the sight of it was making you reel with feelings you didn’t know you had. The idea of him wearing something you fixed, your own hands—all because you wanted to swap shifts, made heat blossom in your chest.

Maybe it was the damn alcohol.

But then you found yourself trailing down to see the view. And not his ass—but the way he held your sleeve corner of your jacket, gently trailing you along. You admired the sight, glad he couldn’t see your face. Your boots crunched against rocks and gravel.

“We’re both wearing leather jackets.” You blurred out, eyes widening. Simon then glanced at you and the corner of his lip did a tilt—something you found yourself daydreaming of lately.

“You got a point, lass?”

“We’re almost matching—“

Now that caught his full attention.

He turned his head to you, brows furrowing at your rumbling nonsense. He led you up, hand around your back cautiously in case you fell up the turn. He then followed, leading you out the local streets and into the familiar pathway of your dorm building.

“I-I mean mine is red and yours is brown but I don’t think the colors are far from the color wheel unless—“

Simon laughed, causing you to fall short in your ramble. You reached the dorm building, with him beside you.

He scanned you in, then followed you, larger hands ushering you down the stairs carefully. He stood behind, guiding your jerky and choppy movements.

“This way—“

He said stiffly, when you went the wrong way. He basically grabbed your shoulder and spun you around to see your wide eyed expression.

“Ah—hahaa. Well that hallway looked a lot like mine.”

“I can tell ya, as someone who hasn’t had a single drink, it’s not.”

Simon held back a snort around your clumsiness and then led you to your door. He held a hand out, covered in scarring—leaning against the wall.

“Keys.”

“Oh right.”

You fumbled in your jacket and mumbled. You eyes then widened, heart pounding at the realization.

“Shit…I don’t have my keys.”

Simon stiffened up, dropping his grin. He was suddenly alert.

Something dark flashed in his eyes like seriousness, as he moved closer, chest almost touching yours. He batted your hands away to gently dig into your smaller jacket pockets, feeling for it.

But nothing. He could smell the booze off of you, to which he sighed.

“D’ya remember where ya’ left it?” He asked, brows furrowed harshly. He wasn’t mad at you.

He just hoped no stalker or asshat wiggled his way in your jacket when you didn’t look. Especially since you were in a vulnerable position.

“Maybe it fell out…Price grabbed my jacket to put his next to mine. It was on the wrong hook…”

Simon sighed, relaxing a bit. But he was atill on edge. His eyes softened as he looked down at your form.

“Damn it. I can’t ave’ you stayin’ out here.” Simon said, gazing into your “barely there” look. Eyeliner all smudged up.

He knew what he would have to do.

“You’re sleepin’ with me.”

[mcspirkevents]

The 1st anniversary of this blog was September 5th!

I've been so busy I forgot to post something on the day of, so I hope you all can forgive me for the delay.

I'd like to say thank you to everyone who has participated in the events, followed this blog, and even joined the discord within this last year. It has been a joy putting events together, getting to see everyone's creativity on display, reblogging each and every amazing post, and promoting other events in the star trek community.

It has been so amazing to get to know dozens of the 321 people who have started following this blog. I hope to get to know even more of you over the course of this next year!

My plan is to keep this all going for as long as possible! I already have a list of ideas for events for 2025. Though some require a bit of assistance. Sadly I am only one person and I have my own limitations. Look out for a post regarding assisting the blog and future events soon!

A new post will go out celebrating the 1st anniversary of the discord on November 19th. If you haven't join yet I definitely recommend it.

[50shadesofoctarine]

Current Comic Ideas:

I'd like to ascertain interest in these ideas so I know what order to draw them in.

Here are examples of my art style:

If you have a different idea you'd like me to check out, I have a page where anyone can send me a request (for free!):

You can put your ideas in a comment or reblog, but I can't guarantee I'll see it that way. I will try my best, though.

Tag List:

@good-omens-gallery @goodomensafterdark @neverlet @gay-ass-bitch @hyperfixating-rn-brb

(Leave a reply if you want to be added)

[kaq3yma]

BEEP BEEP! sakura haruka.

syn: it is your first date with him, how did it go? it was alright... but did you expect it to buzz? no.

୨୧ qeena's brief note: elloo, anouncing a (kinda) new theme with a sakura haruka scribble yippieee >w< i know the theme lowk similar to my old one as it still a pink&green theme but hey, can't help the fact im a hardcore soft pink and pale green girlie (•؎ •) i have this idea based off this one tweet meme i saw couple months prior (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) sorrryyy but i can't remember the exact account but i think yall know shskssks anyway, let me know what you guys think about this scribble & the new theme, will appreciate all ur kind words <3 that's all, thank you, i love you, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated and happy reading xoxo 🍡

. . . imagine you're on a date, on your very, very first date with a guy you're oh-so in love with, Sakura Haruka. The date went smoothly, he pick you up at your meeting spot, Kotoha's diner, and after that you two ate together. You get to browse all over town, trying dishes and stroll around. It's indeed a fun day.

However, the dual-colored hair boy still can't help but shy away to your touch. You don't mind that he don't want to hug, heck, even pecks, but you wish at least he don't mind holding hands, cling your arm around him or even be at a close proximity.

The date turn sour almost drastically when you subconsciously pull his arm out of excitement because you saw a familiar ice cream van stall, one you'd used to buy but he pull his hand away, and instead tucking it in his pocket.

The entire hour after the incident was a confused Sakura (try to) cheer you up but failed miserably and the date happened to end quickly as time flies. Sakura walk you home, taking short strides behind your almost-slouched figure upfront. His face burn in embarrassment and confusion, not knowing how to act, what to do and what to say.

"... I—"

"We're here." The sudden spoke of words cause him to halt his words into half, poor boy is bewildered because he thought he have more time with you until you both arrived at your home, well, you both did arrived quicker than his (pea) brain can comprehend.

"I'll see you tomorrow, good bye—" Someone can ask previous Sakura if he ever expect this Sakura to do something unexpected, so unexpected he shocked both himself and you and he'd say no but yes, it somehow is happening.

He lean down, almost uncharacteristically to close the gap between you two and seal the night with a kiss, short enough yet still manage to pull your breath away.

"I—"

"Beep, beep. Abnormal heart rate detected." His face almost explode into thousands (millions) shades of red.

[nomatopeya]

sharing my theories on the Side Order DLC, share yours too!

references to neurons/brain parts -references to body parts forming

references to hivemind/clone-like structures -so much dead ocean life (the "snowy" environment you can see on the trailer is called marine snow which is waste, dead skin, and other organic particulate that floats in the water column)

speaking of marine waste marine waste also makes a huge similarity to the name marina

it makes sense that the octoling is a mute brown hair color, almost gray, like a combination of pearl and marina's hair colours

I saw a comment that said this could be about marina's brain but i doubt it

im so in with the theory that marina tried getting order in place but has gone a little insane

because in the trailer there is a huge flash of a lot of images and the ones where pearl and marina are in the same photos are specifically blurried. the blurry photo of Off the Hook has Marina's head mostly out of frame, to me it seems to indicate a loss of identity or existentialism

and then you have the image of pearl in full quality looking down at you

and where's marina?? the only unblurred picture of marina we got was her singing but glitchy indicating something is wrong

are we gonna have to save marina

again the huge references to neurons/brain parts hint a lot that this will be a mindfuck for sure

pressumably an inkling giving the pointy parts? Giving the shadow of the shirt, it looks a lot like agent 4's agent outfit or maybe im reaching because i want her back and it would mke sense to have her back giving its located on the inkopolis square where she had her missions run

anybody else notice that theres another person in this elevator, as in shes being escorted trough an elevator?? the octoling is either looking at her own reflection or looking outside Bringing back the huge references to neurons and brain parts: was this poor octoling's brain messed with? she is being escorted, again not alone, presumably with someone that knows what's going on and is guiding her to some facility My guesses: This is agent 8 and she's gotten enrolled with another facility again my girl will never find peace

This is a clone similar to agent 8 and we get to see what was of agent 8's "siblings" (remember my points 1, 2, and 3? could this be the inside of the mind of a sanitized octoling, living in an endless reverie?)

Following up the clone theory: These two placed in line, placed in Order Marina tried making a clone? marina tried making a child? pearlina child real??/hj Marina is deffinetely NOT okay, and im really intrigued about that

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[mercurymacaroons]

arrives 15 min late with a latte

......sup

[bisexualcherdegre]

D:BH Rarepairsweek 7 | @dbhrarepairs

Day 3: Hank/Markus After the revolution, Markus and Hank are both trying to deal with the new situation they've been handed. Their paths cross.

[averlym]

ghostwriter (their grandma would tell them she'd lose half her soul)

[piningpercussionist]

Template by @juni38

Im going to be completely frank with you all... and admit that I read these options and wasn't sure how to take this chart,,, so uh. Under the cut is Another Version. I'd apologize but I've given you the option to keep scrolling ¯\_(･･)_/¯

(If you notice characters missing on Kim's side, I probably figured she doesn't know who they are lol)

For the record,,, if they *wanted* me to pull their hair-- *is shot several times before I can continue*

Uhh Matthew is here because I have been converted fully on he/him or enby lesbian Matthew I think. He lives in my brain rent free now, very gender. I'd pull his hair but also I think he mostly just deserves to have it played with nicely.

And Scott's here because 1) I enjoy trans Scott, 2) Kim Pine Brain Rot possibly, 3) idk he's like,, the exception. God damnit, I've fallen for the inexplicable Scott Pilgrim Effect. What the fuck--

I did think about doing this chart like everyone was actually applicable to my tastes, but even if they were I think the ones I didn't put up would have to fall on the caress side bc I just don't feel that way abt them lol.

Again, not to say that's the case for the gals over on that side,,, I just think I would want to be gentle w them shxkdjsdhbd with the exception for Lynette who probably deserves to have her hair pulled, but again I fear she would Hurt Me,,, but maybe in a fun way,,,

Anyway No One Look At Me....

(,, also,,, Ramona is so far over bc I think she would enjoy it,, otherwise she'd be closer to Kim in that section. Same thing w Roxie)

If anyone actually looks at this version, I'm not opposed to doing a version like this for Kim btw! Just ask for it so I feel like I'm not just Dropping This and scurrying away

[chaosdefinedcomic]

<<Previous (Beginning) Next>> The plot thickens! Bit by bit. Welcome back! I apologize that I'm not a fast artist. Or a faster artist, rather. One week's not that bad for three pages, honestly.

[lion-sensei]

I have a headache so I did this today instead of working

[melverie]

Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh today I've been constantly experiencing the urge to un-private today-in-the-devildom & start writing for it again