#also gendered clothing is clearly not a thing for them. and gender in general

[entropyvoid]

My take on Zim trying to do a fashion

[etheries1015]

He walks in on you touching yourself... (18+ Minors DNI)

General warnings: Gender-neutral reader. Can be read as established or non-established relationship, completely up to whatever your cup of tea is... (Reader for Azul and the tweels is pretty confident and daring. be warned.) Also not proof read.

TW: Touching himself while watching you masturbate, 'unbeknownst' to you. Being caught, mentions of heat.

Featuring: Lilia (separate) , Azul (separate), and the tweels (together...might be OOC. I don't write for them often wahhhh)

Lilia

It was obvious by the sounds of wetness and low whines ringing through the hall what was conspiring in your bedroom. Lilia had dropped by simply to play some games or to say hello, but was pleasantly greeted by the glorious sight before him after making his way down the hall towards your sleeping chambers. With the door cracked slightly, the red-eyed fae had clear few of your naked body sprawled on your bed, hands working at your groin with such vigor and excitement. Fluids ran down your thighs and a layer of sweat clearly coating your flushed body, telling him you have been at this for quite some time. With a raised eyebrow and a smirk quirking on the side of his lips, he could feel his erection pressing against the cloth of his pants practically begging to be freed.

He had little shame when it came to things of pleasure, he himself thoroughly enjoyed indulging in such activities when time permitted. It's a normal part of life, and although he felt mildly guilty for thinking such things when you were touching yourself unaware of his gaze...all reason left his mind the moment your lips uttered his name in a moan that would have been barely audible for a normal human to hear. His eyes open in surprise with his smirk turning into a dark grin, fangs poking out as he bit his lip and began to slowly unzip his trousers.

Freeing himself from his confines, he watched your fingers eagerly working themselves in your hole and the other teasing the outer parts of your body. He thought to himself how much he wanted to be inside you as his cock twitched, yet also wondering how he could just stand there and watch you get off, knowing it was his image in your mind while you so eagerly found your release. Would he ruin the mood if he opened the door and presented himself at that moment? Would you be embarrassed and no longer in the mood? He slowly began using a hand to pump his cock while he watched you through the crack of the door, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips and lustful eyes watching earnestly as you switch positions. You were so...thorough in the way you touched yourself, Lilia almost found himself envious at your own hands stroking attentively to your sensitive spots rather than him.

The second time you moaned his name, he broke in his resolve of keeping his endeavor behind your door a secret falter rather quickly. Removing his hand from his throbbing and flushed cock and lazily slipping his boxers back over his erection, Lilia allowed his presence to be heard as he creaked the door open. Hearing your movements stop suddenly and a small (and rather adorable) gasp escape your lips, the fae watched as you were quick to cover up with the sheets and face flushed a deep scarlet that only enhanced his desire to ruin you further.

"Now now~" Lilia purred, "You were so vocal before, moaning my name like an animal in heat..." He crawled onto the bed, leaning towards you as your gaze so obviously flickered from his piercing eyes to the tent in his boxers, taking note of his unzipped pants and wet spot that soaked through the cloth. His hand quickly grabbed your cheeks and lifted your gaze to his, lips crashing against yours.

"How about you moan for me again, my precious bat? Hmm? I wonder just how loud I could get you the mewl when rather than your fingers, it's my cock buried deep inside you..."

Azul

Azul had noticed something was awry when you weren't there to greet him immediately at the entrance of Ramshackle. The door had been unlocked, almost as if inviting him right in without a worry in the world. He often scolded you for such acts, being rather wary of intruders himself and understanding your disposition of being the sole human in the dorm, he was certain to give you a lecture as he often had.

Walking deeper into the dorm attempting to find you, he could smell something sweet and alluring, something that slowly yet almost simultaneously left his cheeks flushing a slight tint of pink and skin moist with heat at the touch. It was almost a sickening sweet smell- something that he was familiar with only by the definitions of the textbooks.

Heat. Someone was in heat, he could feel it affecting him as such. He took a gulp as his instincts left him wandering mindlessly to the source, hearing the feeble pants of a familiar voice and the sound of wet and sticky skin filling the air as he came closer to the source of the sickeningly sweet scent. Azul began trembling as if he were entering some sort of forbidden den in which he should not be entering. He noticed at the end of the hall a door open, wider than one may think should be. Curious and trembling with anticipation, the merman peaked his head through the rather wide crack of the door, stumbling upon a rather...interesting scene.

He couldn't help but let out an audible gasp, eyes widening before slapping a hand over his mouth and looking away. He pressed his back against the wall, looking down at the clear erection that poked at the cloth of his dress pants. It hurt almost, enough that Azul found himself almost unable to move with the itching need to unzip his pants and release himself of this burning sensation immediately. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see what he had just witnessed...the beloved prefect, someone who was well respected and known around the campus, legs wide on top of the blankets for anyone to see as your fingers buried deep inside your hole with your other hand twisting your hardened nipple. Your hair was a sweaty tangled mess, mouth open lips glistening with drool and lust.

Azul was not used to such erotic behaviors being so close and in eyeshot of him, much less affecting him the way you seemed to be. He couldn't help but guiltily open his eyes and glance again, watching through the cracked door and rubbing his legs uncomfortably. He let out a deep sigh as his hands moved with a mind of their own, dipping the inside of his pants and boxers in an attempt to stroke himself for some sort of release of the discomfort his hardened cock had caused. He watched you with his mouth ajar, his heart pounding so loud he almost feared you would hear it. Your moans began to become louder, almost as if...on purpose. Azul continued to rub his shaft with hesitant and trembling hands, before a moment passed and it seemed...like you two had made eye contact.

It was almost a split second, where he felt as if your gaze had locked onto his through the door. Yet you turned your attention back to your naked body, a sly smile crawling onto your lips. That split second cause his heart to drop straight into the pit of his stomach with guilt, yet at the same time such risk left his body trembling as he used one hand to muffle a high pitched whine that escaped his lips as he shamefully finished in his pants almost as quickly as he had begun. With legs that were shaking and a heart beating so rapid he felt it would pop out of his chest at any second, the merman pursed his lips and wiped his brow, finally finding the courage to use his legs to make a hasty exit...you were quick to interrupt his escape.

"Awwee...did you cum already, Azul?" He froze as you called his name, Azul letting out a yelp of surprise and hung his head low in almost shame.

"No need to be shy," You called out, "Come here. Let your prefect take care of our pretty little octopus..."

Jade + Floyd

You were a brazen soul, something that both Jade and Floyd would admire. Often times your brave endeavors left them astonished and intrigued all the same. The three of you were doing your weekly movie night, but the two could already tell something was different in your actions. The way you would rub your legs together and the sweet scent wafting off of your figure left the two side-eyeing each other with knowing intent. The movie was the last thing on your mind, for under the sheets the warmth that was leaving your bottom half aching with desire left your hands wandering beneath the blankets almost unable to hold back your urges.

"Are you alright?" Jade inquired, watching your focused face flush as you looked up at him with surprise at the question. He looked down at you almost knowingly, his typical smile leaving you unaware of the thoughts that were behind those eyes. You gave him a slight smile and a nod of your head, burying yourself deeper in the sheets and halting your hands from going beneath the cloth of your pants like you so desperately wanted to. A few moments of the movie going on, and you were vividly aware of where each of the twins were on both sides of you.

Floyd was brazenly wrapping an arm from behind your shoulders, while Jade sat with one of your legs intertwining with yours beneath the blanket. You found yourself throbbing more intensely below the pile of warm blankets, the heat becoming far more unbearable as your hands began to snake underneath the blankets and into your pants with no self-control and little regard for the two attractive men who were accompanying you. You pursed your lips and inched your fingers toward your groin, a needy sigh escaping your trembling lips as you began to slowly gratify yourself careful not to be loud or obvious. You couldn't help it, you were so desperately seeking release, and patience wasn't always one of your strong suits.

This went on for a mere minute before a hand landed on top of yours through the mountain of cloth that separated your skin from his hand, Jades face peering closer to yours with eyes glinting with mischief as his nose pressed against yours. "You're rather distracted," Jade hummed, eyes closing as he disregarded the movie that was still playing, "If I remove these blankets, what do you think we will see? Hmm? Something naughty?" you gave a shy nod in response, almost as if testing them to see if their blatant words would become materialized in something more. He glanced up to his brother, Floyd who had a wide toothy grin and a tilt of his head. He moved forward to take a whiff of you, his own cheeks becoming flushed a deep scarlet color while pulling you closer to his side.

"little Shrimpy is in heeatt..." Floyd sang, "I didn't know humans can get that, too. But it's sweet, real sweet," He purred. Jade moved away from you, inching the blanket off of your body to reveal yourself with legs held together and hands taken away from pleasuring your sensitive spot. At the same time, You could hear the unzipping of pants as they both released themselves from their pants, you watched in excitement and lustful eyes as the eels began doing as you had done, shamelessly and brazenly touching themselves with little regard for the place and company they were in. The twins encouraged you by each using a hand to grab a knee and spread your legs open, showing your arousal as your own hands twitched with anticipation and neediness. Shy at the whole endeavor, you found yourself hesitating despite their eagerness.

"Don't get shy now," Jade said, beginning to stroke himself and urging you to do the same.

"Yeah, You started this," Floyd pointed out, "let's have fun together...isn't that the whole point?"

"You must be trying so hard to hold back, aren't you? Let it all go...you're good at surprising us, and were so desperate a mere moment ago.... So go on, give us a show."

[velvetvexations]

I'm a trans woman. You need to stop being weird about men.

The idea that trans women should be allowed in single sex spaces for cis women is completely contradicted by the man vs. bear discourse. Ignore that I keep going back to the meme - maybe it's still doing numbers, I don't know, but it's good shorthand either way. If you think men are inherently suspicious and dangerous, ask yourself: why does that not apply to trans women?

What, exactly, does a trans woman do to make herself different from cis men? How are you not advocating a belief in people being tainted by the way they were raised* which can only logically apply to trans women as much as it does cis men? It boggles the mind how, if that's a true concept, one could simply self-identify out it. Yet, the way transradfems talk, literally the only thing that distinguishes an AMAB better-than-bear from an AMAB worse-than-bear is that the former says they're totally better than a bear and you should take their word for it, which if men are really Like That should be of little comfort or security.

Some, even, will make impassioned defenses of butch trans women, which as a butch trans woman is great. But then they'll go on about how evil men are, and how innocent and victimized trans women are, and I wonder, what, exactly, differs an especially butch trans woman from a man to them? If, like me, a trans butch woman doesn't always wear clearly feminine clothes, has body hair, maybe even a shade of facial hair, and doesn't at all try to train her voice, are you going to be uncomfortable with her right up until she realizes she forgot to put their pin on and you see the she/her? Apparently that flips the switch from someone you desperately don't want to be alone with to someone you're totally fine undressing in front of?

All that sounds like TERFism, which is exactly the problem. The transradfem version of reality is one where TERF talking points are completely logical, because they're both based in the same radfem reality. That's not my reality, YOU have constructed a system perfect for them to operate in, that their ideology is fantastic for pointing out errors of reasoning in, as if it was deliberately crafted by them to be deconstructed. I would not at all be surprised if that's the origin of a lot of trans radical feminism, a psyop to make the trans community weaker with logic twists that TERFism can swing through like the Gordian Knot.

If you accept man vs. bear, TERFism is the only logical conclusion. If you don't, as I don't, then it isn't.

The only alternative is that you think being a woman is the only thing anyone should be and "choosing" to be a man is morally inferior. Which I shouldn't have to tell you is horrifying. It's also again incongruous with at least your defense of butch trans women - what exactly defines a "man" and a "woman" when a butch trans woman doesn't have to try to pass at all? You are literally saying all of this, gender, transmisogyny, misogyny, hinges entirely on pronouns and a difference of two letters in the name of what they call themselves, someone is dangerous or not depending on if they go by he/him.

TERFs will see this and be like "yeah! exactly!" BUT MY POINT IS USING THAT TO SHOW YOU SHARE THE SAME FOUNDATIONAL LOGIC AS THEM. If you don't want TERFs to have a point then you can stop accepting their worldview any day now! Come join me and frolic freely where we think TERFs are wrong!

*socialization is real and the idea pre-dates TERFs who incorrectly use the idea that to say that because a trans woman may or may not** have been pressured by external forces to play sportsball she must be hardcoded to be a sex offender, which is completely ridiculous

**no one can be said to have the same experiences, it's a generalization

[useless-catalanfacts]

A bit of trans and crossdressing history of Barcelona (Catalonia's capital city) in the 1920s-1930s

Did "the Carolines" hold the first documented queer march in 1933?

Contestants in the 1934 edition of "Miss Barri Xino" for crossdressers. Photo from the book La Criolla: la puerta dorada del Barrio Chino by Paco Villar.

The Barri Xino, nowadays more commonly known as Raval, is a working class neighbourhood of Barcelona, Catalonia's capital city. Being one of the poorest neighbourhoods in the city, it was the meeting place for people who were outside of the law or the morality of the time, including homosexuals and people who dressed in the way that is associated with the sex they were not assigned at birth (all called crossdressers at the time, this category would include a wide range of people including those we nowadays would call transgender, drag queens, homosexual men, sex workers, as well as thieves and other criminals who used women's clothes for their robberies on passerbies or for hiding). When referring to them, this post will use the term "crossdresser" in this broad meaning, as is used in the sources of the time and was used by the people we are talking about.

At the time, trans people and others who didn't want to follow the time's gender norms faced a lot of hardships. It was not uncommon for men to dress as women and viceversa during Carnival (annual holidays where people dress up, often with satirical purposes, considered a time of turning social convention upside-down) or for men to dress as women in theatre and concert halls. Even though these were situations where many found a place for self-expression and fun, the clothing transgression was limited to very specific ambits and often related to the arts or to things considered funny, but it wasn't normalized to freely exist on the streets outside of the Carnival period. In fact, traditions like Carnival (where the lower class rules and everyone makes fun of the Church and government, where the behaviours that aren't allowed the rest of the year or considered sinful are encouraged) or Saint Agatha's (where women get to form a government for 1 day a year) are found in many cultures around the world as an outlet in repressive societies, and are celebrated in a strongest and wildest way the more repressive their society is.

Carnival in Barcelona's Jardinets de Gràcia (richer area of the city), 1936. Photo from Arxiu Fotogràfic de Barcelona.

Photos of the parties that continued after King Carnestoltes's burial was over in Barcelona's Jardinets de Gràcia, 1935. Context: in Catalan culture, the Carnival holidays are personified in King Carnestoltes (King Carnival). On the last day of the Carnival period, the King is buried in a humourous event called "the burial of the sardine". For the burial, people of all genders dress as mournerers (the women who, often professionally getting paid for it, cry desperately at funerals) and the funeral procession parades on the streets exaggeratedly crying and wailing. Photos from Finestres de Memòria.

When talking about 1930s Catalonia, it's impossible not to mention anarchism, which was the mainstream political ideology of the Catalan working class. We must not assume that leftist movements gave support to queer liberation at the time, it clearly was not the case for most of the CNT and anarchism in general, who saw homosexuality and crossdressing as a bourgeois vice.

Outside of Carnival holidays, it wasn't normalized for people seen as men to walk on the streets wearing women's clothing. The most famous meeting place for those who wanted to wear them was the bar La Criolla, in the Barri Xino/Raval quarter. El Bataclan and El Sacristà were also frequented. Another common meeting place for some of them were the "vespasianes" (public urinals on the streets), where crossdresser AMAB people offered their services as sex workers or stole the wallet of the men who were distracted peeing. According to a witness, the people who crossdressed as women and attended the vespasianes and its surrounding areas were known as the carolines (les carolines). They are the protagonists of the 1933 march.

Sadly, we only have one source of information, so it's difficult to tell how accurate the explanation is. This source is the book Journal du Voleur ("Diary of a Thief") by Jean Genet, where he explains his experiences in Barcelona's crossdressing circles of the 1920s and 1930s when he was one of the crossdressers who stole from men peeing: a carolina. At the time, it was common for anarchists to bomb places frequented by the bourgeoisie, and sometimes other places, too. According to Genet, in 1933 one of these anarchist bombs ended up in one of these vespasianes urinals frequented by the carolines. This sparked one of the first documented queer marches, maybe encouraged by their bad relation with the anarchists.

Genet explains that the carolines were outraged at the destruction of the urinal, and that "[wearing] shawls, mantillas, silk dresses and fitted short jackets, they formed a solemn delegation to place a bouquet of red flowers tied with a gauze crape" on the destroyed urinal. They marched from Paral·lel avenue through Sant Pau street, down the Rambles until Colom statue shouting about what had happened.

Even though the Barcelona City Council talks about these events as true and Barcelona's LGBT associations call it "the first documented LGBT march in history", it's unknown how much of Genet's description is true. Genet was known for his proclivity to embellish and exaggerate real events and, after all, the only source of information is a literary work (memoir). There is no other recorded use of the word carolines to refer to these people, but precisely because of their marginalization it's not a demographic that was often talked about in newspapers or other historicals sources of the time.

Despite the lack of knowledge about the carolines's march specifically, the crossdressing meeting places are well-known, with many photos and witnesses of the time. We also know what happened next: in 1936, the fascists in the Spanish Army did a coup d'état which started the Spanish Civil War, ending with the fascist victory in 1939. About the bars where crossdressers and others used to meet, we know that La Criolla was destroyed by a fascist bomb in August 1938, during the war. Cal Sacristà (which had changed its name to Wu-Li-Chang in 1934) was also destroyed when the fascists were bombing the city. Bataclan was forced to change its name to Rataclán and ended up closing in 1942. The fascist dictatorship of Spain (1939-1978) imposed a strict Nationalcatholic morale and persecuted those who did not follow its strict gender roles (trans people, homosexuals, feminists), national minorities (like Catalans, Basques, Galicians), and political dissidents. The dictatorship even forbid Carnival for years, event though it's a holiday of the Catholic religion (Carnival is the excess before the fasting period of Lent). The only crossdressing that was legally allowed were transformist male artists who imitated famous female stars in theatres and concert halls, and even they had to be discreet. Their life on the streets was persecuted, but they never eliminated the presence of crossdressing in Raval. You can read more about homosexuality and crossdressing during the dictatorship in this previous post, about the Law of Social Danger in this one, about Catalonia's first Pride march (1977) in this one, and as always find out more about Catalan queer people and history in this blog's tag #uselesslgbtfacts.

Information sources: Transvestits en acció by Lluís Permanyer (in Catalan), La Revolta de les Carolines by Leopold Estapé (in Catalan), Vespasiana by Ailo Ribas (in English). A good explanation that helped me contextualize is found in this entry in La Barcelona Diversa (in Catalan).

[kurara-black-blog]

Radioapple Thoughts that live rent free in my mind

Alastor being the most jealous bastard in Hell because he's a possessive and obsessive little shit whose love only manifests as intense, crazed devotion

Lucifer knows by heart Alastor's measurements and has made many clothes for him, some he even sewed by hand

Alastor is jealous of Cat Alastor (no one gets it because the cat is basically him??? Or maybe not??? What even is that thing???)

Alastor's cane is sentient and it will play some love songs if Alastor is ever lost in his thoughts of Luci or sharing a quiet moment with Luci

Alastor is jealous of Angel Dust (Al, Angel flirts with everyone, chill)

Lucifer is the strongest being in Hell, period, and Alastor goes feral whenever he sees his little King show his true powers

Alastor is jealous of Adam (he knows Lucifer would not want anything with the guy that almost killed his daughter, but still, he feels nauseous when Luci talks about his time in Eden with the first man for a friend)

Lucifer, despite mostly using he/him, doesn't really have a concept of gender and he abhors gender roles in general, meaning he'll take whatever form he feels more comfortable with himself at the moment... And meaning Alastor will dress him up in all fashion choices from his time period as much as he can

Alastor is jealous of Lilith (ok, that one is forgiven. Also, it's always a treat to see the little king plead him to not hunt his ex wife even though his entire face is yellow and his eyes are twinkling in gratitude)

Lucifer and Alastor don't engage in sexual activities frequently, but they do adore the intimacy of being naked and vulnerable with someone who chose not to kill you. Shared baths where they clean and polish each other's hooves are common

Alastor is jealous of his own shadow (again, CHILL, that's literally a part of you!!! It just wanted to give Luci a pretty flower!!!!!)

Instead of a wedding band or a promise ring, they gifted each other rings made with the bones of their own ring fingers. In fact, body parts being used as accessories become very common for them. Lucifer usually gifts cufflinks while Alastor gifts earrings

Alastor is jealous of Stolas (that's the literally the most outlandish one, like, Stolas is a hellborn noble, Luci is only his boss. Ok, maybe they bonded over the bad divorce, the shitty parental figures, the beloved daughters they have no idea how to interact with... But Stolas has a boyfriend! That he clearly loves! Do not kill the first friend Luci made after the divorce)

The only times Alastor willingly watches TV is when he cuddles with Lucifer in the couch and they spend the next hour shit talking Vox' show

Alastor is jealous of Vox, but he'd rather be shot again than admit it (Luci said he wouldn't mind a quickie with the TV guy and said TV guy's far too much interested in Alastor's relationship with the King [Alastor, please, he likes you])

The "keep the musical pieces at 2 per day" rule is not for Charlie, but for them

Alastor is jealous of Alastor (all Luci did was make an offhand comment about Alastor looking more handsome while alive. Thank God time traveling is not possible for sinners)

Lucifer has terrible abandonment issues and Alastor being willing to fight for their relationship against threats that aren't even there while not even once blaming Lucifer for other people's action makes him feel very loved

Still can't eat Stolas, Alastor. Nor Angel. Nor the cat. Adam might give you a tummy ache.

[futurequibblerjournalist]

I think we need to let the Black family be more eccentric. And I hear you all saying "oh but fancy pureblood standards" and this is where I get you and I draw you in

We have such a misconstrued idea of what fancy pureblood standards would be in the wizard universe. Most of it I personally blame on edits. Editors don't have access to movies that portray characters wearing funky looking wizard robes so they often go for more victorian looking styles especially for the Black family but just for pureblood families in general. Please please please don't take this as a complaint but ahhhhh I need people to acknowledge the fancy wizard robes that the Black family undoubtedly wore.

Like,,, even if you argue that wizard robes are more of a special occasion thing, that just adds to the point because the Black family would wear that all the time because they're "so much better than everyone" and every day is a special occasion if you're rich enough with the right social standing.

Also, we know from the way their home is described in the book that they're not above being a little eccentric. I mean,, they've got a cut-off troll foot for an umbrella stand and they hang the heads of their previous house elves on plaques on the wall for entertainment. They had a tapestry made to show off their ancestry with fancy gold embroidery in it (if I remember correctly). Like they're out here serving maximum wizard cunt

I think a lot of people get stuck on what high society standards of muggles are and they push that onto the purebloods in this universe, but it's noted how different muggle customs are from wizard (and especially pureblood) customs, so would it not make more sense for a family such as the Black family to try and act as opposite of that? I think this is especially seen in the way gender is portrayed in wizard society. Long robes that border on being dresses are commonly worn by well-respected men in wizard society and we also see wizard clothes that use a lot of vibrant colours, glitter and embroidery.

Also just if we look at those really fucking rich people with so much generational wealth they hardly know what to do with it (aka old money like the Black family and many other pureblood families) a lot of them are unapologetically eccentric. It would just make sense for wizards to be similar

I personally have a headcanon that the purebloods are very fond of lace. It's all homemade, by housewives and the more intricate and the more of it that there is, the more it's a sign that you're a family of good standing because the women are able to stay at home and focus on their lacework. I also think the colour of the lace would send a signal about where in society a family is placed. Black thread is notoriously hard to work with, so if you've managed to create a shirt full of many layers of intricate black lace then clearly you've spent a lot of time on it. I also think these pieces become heirlooms, because that shows that not only did the current generation of the family live up to this standard, the generations before them also did.

On top of that, I think a lot of pureblood families were really big on jewellery. They had all sorts of things for different occasions, many of which were also heirlooms. I could see it being some sort of coming-of-age thing to receive a pair of grandma's earrings or something like that and I 100% imagine that all the pureblood boys ran around with signet rings on after a certain age as well.

Also,,, I just think it's kinda funny to imagine Walburga trying to stuff Sirius into some lacy half-gown-looking robe before she adds a tonne of jewellery and goes "this belonged to your namesake, aren't you just proud?" or something like that

[afreakingdork]

You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 18

RotTMNT x Reader

Donnie and celestial bodies are some of my favorite combos and who better than @anixolt to make that imagery possible

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You

Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff

Synopsis:  You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?

Also available on Ao3

First 💛 Previous

“It can’t be this easy!” Donnie turned and held up the two hangers he had.

“Obviously not.” April’s eyes rolled up from where she was shoved against a wall. “We’ve been at this for hours, Donnie.”

“Hours?! What could you possibly-?!” Donnie stared at his best friend for a long moment. “Ah, you’re referring to the wardrobe choices. I clearly implied that shopping would be a lengthy process.”

“Then what are you talking about? One minute you’re saying maroon might invoke too much intensity and the next you’re shouting.”

“You agreed to come.”

“And clearly implied that I get to bitch about how long it always takes you to buy clothes.” She shoved off the wall and wandered towards him. “You’d do the same for me.”

The hangers in his grip slacked.

“So, what can’t be easy?” She took the wine colored slacks from him and brought them over to a rack.

“I’m going on a date.”

“Mhm.” She hung and tidied them with a care she picked up from one of her retail jobs.

“With Y/N.”

“Yup.” She pointed to the maroon suit jacket he had.

He held it out, giving up on the choice.

She returned, similarly dutiful, to put that item away as well.

 She was always like that.

Not just with his shopping choice, but him in general. She was the word ‘studious’ even if her impulse control was absolute zero. She’d leap away at the slightest interest, but April would never leave someone’s side. She listened and absorbed everything to a near fault then gave her opinion until his tympanum bled. She was not just an honorary Hamato; he’d loudly argue she was the only one who really represented the clan.

She was also still the only one who knew how to use the Seven Deadly Vipers move, much to the brother’s chagrin.

She was his best friend and he loved her all the same.

Even if she still hadn’t figured out how to follow his mind’s direction.

He wasn’t sure she’d ever learn.

Though, a case could be made for his unfathomable psyche since he’d aligned his brain waves with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. once and even that yielded a poor result.

Of course.

That was why she hadn’t followed his genius.

He’d trailed along a branching thought path and only verbalized the budding end of a limb.

“We like each other. We date.” Donnie explained.

“That’s how that kinda thing goes, yeah.” She gave him a once over before ducking into a changing room that was not his. 

He followed a few paces after her. “No, I’m relating that fact to my shouted statement!”

“Okay…” Her voice came along with a rummaging sound.

He was about to stick his head in when he just barely swerved being hit in the face with a set of hangers and their adjoining clothes.

“Nice! These are basically your size!” She cheered from the end of her extended arm. 

“April!”

She shooed him instead of apologizing.

He grouched his way back into his own changing room and eventually took her offerings.

She slammed the curtain shut behind him with a force that rattled the rungs holding it up. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Would you like to enlighten me on what you so callously understand?!” Donnie stared at his reflection.

“Put on the stone pants with the eggshell shirt.”

He played his weakest hand and gave her the cold shoulder by not speaking to show his dissatisfaction. 

It had never once worked in his entire life. 

He could picture her now. 

She was leaning against another wall with a foot kicked up without a care in the world. 

On her face was a lazy sort of smile that said she knew exactly what she was doing. 

He waited her out a few moments just in case before he rolled his eyes and picked up what she requested. 

She took the sound satisfactorily and finally answered. “Why are you trying to question the gift horse?” 

“Have you poorly phrased the saying about an equine’s mouth?” He shook the pants out of their hung creases.  

“Don’t answer a question with a question!” She jostled the curtains.

“You just did!” His voice pitched.

“Yeah, but mine had a point.” 

“Doubtful scoff.” 

She actually scoffed. “What do you want, Donnie? You want it to be hard? You want to fight for love? You got grand romantic gestures on your mind? You want to ride in on that equine of yours and catch your beloved on the tarmac so you both fly away to Lisbon together?”

“That is not how Casablanca ends.” He stepped into the pants one leg at a time.

“Yeah, it’s a snooze. Never could make it all the way through.”

“I won’t spoil it.” Donnie wriggled the fabric up his hips.

“’Nita already has, but whatever, you’re the one dodging questions. You brought this up so why are you being snarky?”

“‘Love wins’ does it not?” He studied the enclosure to best do the fly up. “That’s a victory. You work for it. It should be difficult.”

“Should it?”

“Did you not fight for yours?”

“Can we really be called normal cases? Did I quite literally fight Casey for years? Yes. I’ve also fought alongside her.”

“Consider my point validated.”

“No!” She must have sat down because her feet suddenly slammed onto the floor. “Don’t pull that shit! Casey was raised to be a weapon.”

His responding hum warbled.

“That’s not-!” She stormed toward him.

He got the fly done and turned to where she was sure to rip open his dressing room door.

She tossed back the curtain and glowered at him. “I hate your haughty ass! You guys were made to be weapons, not raised that way! It’s not a competition, but I know what you’re doing! You’re finally asking something you're vulnerable about, but you’re trying to twist the conversation back on me because you can’t deal with being as emotionally soft-” She jammed a finger into his plastron.

Force took him a step back.

“-as-” She jabbed him again.

He was two steps away from the wall and knew that would be his destination.

“-your-”

He slipped on the next slide of his foot and his shoulder made contact early.

“-shell!”

He looked down at her hand and followed it to her face. “Done with your bottom dwelling blows?”

Her hand snapped up and caught his beak in a harsh flick. “Make me the bad guy one more time! I dare you!!”

He held a hand over his face and let the sting linger.

He deserved that.

Everything she said was right.

When things between you and him had been bad, how much had he complained?

When he perceived his feelings for you as something to squash, he’d talked off the others’ ears. 

He felt his heartache loud because complaining came easily. 

The moment his love became something positive, he clammed up. 

He’d barely talked to the others. 

It wasn’t necessary. 

He also couldn’t. 

Tender heart.

There was something to the thought that it would need the same shielding as his shell. 

“Okay…” He spoke once, but heard it wasn’t enough so he tried again. “Okay.”

When his head came down, she was watching him with a sharp guard.

“I’m sorry.”

She relented with a sigh. “You’re catering the stakeout you leveraged for me being here.”

“Understood. Are you still watching your soda intake?”

“Yeah, I need the fizz though so get the bubbly waters, but don’t cheap out.”

He gave a sharp nod.

She searched for the eggshell top, located it, and took it off the hanger. “Next thing out of your mouth is gonna be you spilling.”

He took the offered shirt and slipped it on, one arm at a time. “We, all of us, have a track record.”

April adjusted her body language to listen. 

“Love is… difficult. It is constant work. You have to make room for this other person all while your facilities are inhibited because of the aforementioned emotion and that doesn’t account for…” Donnie swept a hand down his body. “This and not the ‘this’ the other’s talk about. I accept being a mutant and relish in it. The ‘this’ as in the hero part. The destiny part. The ‘I have to save New York so, yes, I will disappear suddenly, at any given hour,’ part…” 

She tipped her head, fully understanding. 

“Then there’s how I am. Cavorting with me is not for the faint of heart. My personality is a demanding one. I want until I don’t. I overthink everything. I will subvert any ask for a change in my person simply because it irks me that it was even a consideration!” 

She moved forward to stop him. 

He cut her off with a look. “Y/N knows all of this and…” 

He took a breath and began to do his buttons. 

Each one had a point. “I feel as though I’ve done nothing to earn this. In fact, I’ve actively done the opposite and pushed them away…but… here we are and it’s so easy. Y/N accepts my flaws, faults, failures, and proprietorial attitude with open arms. The fact that we are compatible at all appears to be a statistical anomaly! Being with Y/N is… It’s… I swear I had an entire monologue prepared, but now I can’t remember a single thing! It should be hard! I remind myself constantly to not mess things up! My mind is churning a mile a minute when it's with them to read their needs, to scrape by any information possible to make them more comfortable and yet, in spite of that, because of that, while also doing that… it’s as if I don’t think at all. Nothing matters except how we are intrinsically drawn to each other and that’s too easy.” 

He got to his collar and then slid his fingers beneath it to adjust it. 

“It shouldn’t be that easy…” He punctuated the end of his outpouring with a flick of his digits and turned to show April hit outfit. 

“Sometimes…” She did a motion for him to turn. 

He did so with his limbs out like a computer model.

He earned himself a scolding smile, but she more so appraised the ensemble. “... Love is like that.”

He cocked a brow.

“Easy.” She spoke flat and to the point.

His gaze drooped.

“Listen to me.”

He looked at her against his slack neck.

“That’s not a bad thing. That’s something people search their entire lives for and you, of all people, deserve that. You’re a good person Donnie. Always have been, but love doesn’t care what you’ve done. Love just… is! If it comes for you, then it comes. It’s gonna knock down everything and make sure you know it. What matters is what you do about it.” 

She nodded to the mirror. 

He used it to check his outfit.

She stood just behind him and craned an elbow to his shoulder so she could be part of the pose. “Instead of worrying about what it isn’t, enjoy it for what it is.” 

He pursed his lips.

“This though…?” Her arm came down so she could pinch his sleeves. “This ain’t it. You’ll get dumped for this.”

“You’re being dramatic.” He let his posture go thematically limp. 

She swatted him.

There was immediate levity and he felt soothed in many ways. “I’ll start: why is this knit sheer?!”

“I can see your plastron lines! That’s like y’alls equivalent to nips out!”

“Appalling and the fabric on these pants!?”

“It’s all bunched up! They look terrible on you!”

He half pushed April out of the dressing room while she laughed.

“Where to next?” She wondered as he made a grand gesture of closing the curtain. 

“I’m done for now. The perfect date outfit will not be found today so we shall begin preparations for your stakeout.”

“Finally! Something fun!”

Donnie hummed his irritation and undressed.

She chuckled for a moment, but cut herself off. “Wait, that’s it!”

“What?”

“Go battle ready. Suit up! Y’all have classic silhouettes nailed!”

“You can’t see it, but picture contempt on mine features! You dare suggest I go on a date in my hero outfit!?”

“If it ain’t broke!”

He threw back the cloth and held the clothes out for her to put on their hangers. “A time and place, dear April!”

She did so with a roll of her eyes and a tuck of a phrase out the side of her mouth. “And he thinks he’s gonna have it easy.”

“What was that?” He passed her knowing full well what she said.

“Nothing!” She jeered.

-

It was the day of your date. 

You kept having to remind yourself because it felt like any other day. You talked to Donnie so regularly that today appeared to be no different. You saw him just as often with the last being a few days ago so even that event felt like a learned one. This outing was special due to its context and you scolded yourself for being so casual. 

Any other time you’d be in a tizzy, but you couldn’t find your usual anxiety. 

All you had was a fluttering excitement that made doing anything else a chore. You wanted to be out with him right now, but the clock always seemed to read early. It wore down minutes at an excruciating pace until it suddenly appeared to be the last minute. You slapped your cheeks for the sake of keeping yourself in line and flew to the door phone as soon as there was a buzz. 

“C-coming!” You held the button to respond before fleeing. 

You made sure you had your things before flying down the stairs. Donatello bobbed to eager attention as soon as he could see you through the door’s glass. It was two tugs to get to him and you both collided for the sake of it. 

You breathed in his chest and burbling thoughts urged you to exert first date decorum. 

Only, Donnie didn’t care to follow it either and when you eventually parted it was more for time’s sake then to compliment each other’s attire. 

You had a set schedule after all. 

One you had both equally contributed in creating. 

You would first go to the restaurant owned by the kind man from the dumpling night market. Donnie’s research lent itself toward a time table while yours went with finer details. You had a tidy taxi ride counted out with an ever updating traffic preview which took you to the restaurant. There, you had a clean 120 minutes to dine before there was a short 15 minute walk to the planetarium. If all went according to plan, it would be the perfect digestion distance so you could watch your double planetarium feature in peace. 

The clock had now started and the cab waited graciously at the ready behind Donnie from where he hailed it. The cabbie paid you little mind as Donnie held the door for you. The ride was filled with latent conversation about which dishes to choose and led you to a quaint brick storefront. The driver was paid and it was a few short steps before a push of a door came with the scent of spices. You were thanking Donnie for his multitudes of kindnesses when the aforementioned owner caught sight of you both. 

As soon as the man saw Donnie, he began to talk. For the first few minutes, it was fine. He had greetings and kind words along with recommendations. He folded you both in through the ordering process and gave tips on which things to eat. He spoke of what was fresh and even ran off into the kitchen to check some sort of stock before finally ringing you up. It was there that you assumed the transaction would end, but the man didn’t seem to notice. He instead mooned about when the shop had opened. Your increasingly scant replies went unnoticed by him so Donnie stepped in to stop the onslaught.

Your date’s voice immediately became grated and he inched toward the seating area with a hand ready to guide you. You pressed into the appendage as a signal for him to move, but the owner was the one spurred on. He rounded the counter to give you what he called the ‘best seat in the small house.’ You were led to a table like every other which Donnie loudly proclaimed. It sent your head down in shame at the bitter comment, but the restaurateur only laughed. Donnie gave a synthetic one back with a bout of sarcasm as he took his seat. You had planned to sit across from him for date banter, but the owner plopped down where you expected to. 

You were left standing out in the proverbial rain until Donnie urged you to join him. You scooted into the booth indelicately and once there you shrank down at the abysmal state of the hour. There was no way you could hit any of your talking points in this state. The owner’s voice taunted you in a drone and you slumped so much you debated sinking under the table. 

Donnie’s arm pressed to yours. 

You weren’t immediately moved, but soaked up the warmth there. It helped build your limp body and, when your gaze surfaced, it was to find your date pinched in near rage. Every inch of his body was signaling dismissive cues and his teeth ground whenever he was prompted to respond. The owner seemed none the wiser and tapped the table along with his words. 

The recipe for a hurricane, you were caught along with the chilled undercurrent of the storm. Seeking to say it’s energy with that same warmth you once leeched, you leaned into Donnie. He didn’t react obviously, but he also didn’t dismiss you. Thinking that might be sign enough, you chanced resting your head against his arm. 

That one gamble proved to be fruitful as a couple entered the restaurant and the owner was forced to leave. 

He bid you all a good meal and with that, his speech slipped away as a backdrop. 

You weren’t sure if you should go back to your side of the table, but Donnie squashed the thought as he suddenly dropped his weight against you.

You squeaked under the pressure and did your best to hold him up as his entire head flopped over yours. “Exhausting.” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but a woman was headed toward you with dishes stacked upon a large tray. Before you could do anything else, your table was soon packed with way more dishes than either of you ordered. Donnie complained to the waitress, but she dismissed you with a wave that you read as sympathetic. 

It sent warning bells off in your mind and you caught Donnie’s hand to tell him that something was about to happen, but the owner very clearly called out before you could. 

You looked wearily to find him pointing the two new customers toward your table. Donnie lit with complaint, but the owner wouldn’t hear it. You became a group of five and that meant you had to eat and eat well as you were under peak scrutiny. The momentary lapse in attention was nothing more than the eye of the storm and somehow more regulars got wind of this gathering and were joining you. Chairs were pulled up and the large meal was further supplemented. Your date was something celebrated by people you didn’t know and your existence shrank as they all prodded Donnie incessantly. 

You were left with questions relating to dating a mutant which felt demeaning. You had bitters ready on your lips about how you would know if they would shut up, but you knew that to be unfiltered drivel best kept to yourself. It was the knee jerk reaction to your date being hijacked and not something you would ever mean. You further reduced the thought because, if anything, you decided you should have been upset about the way they were treating Donnie. Your inclusion was happenstance because he was their prime interest. While their pleasantries said they were being kind, their focus on his mutant status was nearing objectification. 

You sent this regard to him in a glance, but he had no time to accept it. He was volleying around the conversation around him in a ping pong of his pupil. It made him a powerful vision. He kept up with the conversation and responded only with a barbed tongue. Each time he lapped poison, it brought further interest as if angering him were part of the game. Instead of succumbing, he took it as an allowance that he had little to withhold and he sounded his displeasure. His concerns were brushed off and it was his staunch profile that you stared at. His strong chin was a proud one and he used it in a flick to comment about how each table required a no loitering sign. The group held a long pause before they burst out into laughter, much to Donnie’s chagrin. 

You were about to help when a fork shot toward your face. 

You jumped and found it was a bite of food being offered by someone and you were told, not asked, to try this and that.

You stumbled through something too spicy and giggles followed your coughing fit.

It had hit the back of your throat, you wanted to scream.

They laughed.

Laughed on your special date day.

Donnie was the first to get your water and you wanted to call everything off.

For the first time in what felt like hours, your eyes met as he passed the cup. 

Nothing, but apologies swam in his gaze. 

You could leave, you read off of him. 

It was an offer, but not a demand. 

Part of him felt that same tether. 

This was the restaurant you picked and for better or worse you had paid for the meal. 

It couldn’t be helped. 

Struck by the thought, you sipped the drink. In New York, in a family owned restaurant, there was a chance of this sort of occurrence. A woman across from you who had once offered a fork now passed you a napkin. You took it with a small gratitude and wiped delicately around your eyes. You feared the spice sneaking into your retinas, but you had already allowed your vision to turn red. 

Was your current situation an actual aggravating one or had you decided to see it that way?

You tried to think why you had decided to lean into the side of irritation. Things going wrong weren’t necessarily a given with Donnie. While your relationship had been a bumpy road, it wasn’t like a tone was set. You had a track record in general of being anxious, Donnie had only happened to appear as a way to assuage that. It was a remedy to the time he was your antagonist, but those days were long over. Everything with him had been an evolution and, since you’d welcomed your feelings for him, he was settling into his new romantic role; you both were. 

You became painfully aware of the need to reframe and refocus.

You had unknowingly set expectations. 

Why?

If you removed the date parameters, you imagined this might be fun. 

You had never been taken under the wing of strangers like this before. While in one context they were rude, in another they were giving. They welcomed you in like family and treated you like you had always been a part of it. Their intrigue could also easily be read as that of natural ribbing. They gave you heaps more food than you paid for and wanted to hear your opinion on each dish. Though you had been more a passive participant at first, they seemed to notice your lack of pep and had prompted you to join. 

Your grievances slipped away as a special dessert was presented. 

It was apparently not on the menu and you were suddenly being thanked for your time. The entire air shifted and your sportsmanship was congratulated. Aunties teased you and said if you two lovebirds could survive this, then you could survive anything. You didn’t know what possessed you, but you made a casual comment about Donnie’s family being worse. The group devoured the statement and you felt like you were on top of the world.

Had you really just interjected in a conversation and somehow done it exceedingly well?

You wanted to immortalize the moment.

You might have had the jeers not turned on Donnie for only taking you out on a first date after having met his parents.

Donnie loudly berated the primordial dating system and for that he was met with patting hands.

He puffed up like a cat under the assault and this time when he caught your eye, you passed more than just commiseration. The look held a tender undercurrent and you knew it was because your bond with him had been looked upon favorably. The validation helped buoy your date who was wearing on his last nerve. To help, you doled him out a specific portion of malva pudding. He took it gratefully and there was a whistle that suddenly dismissed the onlookers.

As soon as they were clear, Donnie immediately pressed into your side. You understood his need for closeness stemmed from being forced apart and you ate your dessert with your heads together. There were whispers of your cuteness from around the room which you patently ignored and Donnie checked in. You did the same with him and it was agreed that this meal had not gone as planned, but you’d try again. You’d try as many times as it took and with that promise that he deployed what he called his best ice breaker and asked you what your favorite dinosaur was.

Whatever you thought a date should be started then. 

You no longer agreed with the sentiment, but it came with everything you expected. 

You talked. 

You enjoyed each other’s company.

You embodied the epitome of fluff.

Why had you ever worried?

Even if there was a momentary lapse, you had faith that time alone with Donnie would eventually come. 

He was there with you. 

Opportunity was sure to manifest. 

If not, you would make it so. 

Then the owner mentioned a shift change and Donnie went ramrod straight.

He scrambled for the actual time and it was with grave features that he told you that you now had 10 minutes to make the 15 minute journey to the planetarium.

You lost all sense as you ran out of the restaurant. 

“I’m n-not s-sure-!” You wheezed and did your best to keep up.

Donnie had your hand and was doing his best not to yank you. “We can make it. It’s only two more blocks.”

“W-we w-won’t-! T-the s-show-!” You gasped and in glimpses saw hesitation on his face.

You were too slow.

You were too weak.

You were too full.

It was a lethal combination.

“If we don’t make this one then the next is in 2 hours!” Donnie was all the more determined by the fact.

Was going to the next show really so bad?

You wanted to ask, but your breath wouldn’t stay in your body.

You would get to spend more time together.

That was a good thing.

You could picture it: with a leisurely pace the two of you would cutely go from exhibit to exhibit in the planetarium’s showroom. You could digest your meal without a giant screen overhead and hold his arm as you read plaques together. He’d tell you about the Milky Way because he was a resident there and you could hear from a first hand source that it wasn’t like anything you ever imagined.

No, you were running.

You were then gaping like a dying fish and Donnie, who hadn’t broken a bit of sweat, was talking to a woman at a kiosk.

Then you were inside where the AC only seemed to mock your flooded body.

“This way.” Donnie was still unperturbed as he continued down a corridor.

He hadn’t pulled you once, but the tether of his hand felt like a chain.

You usually loved holding hands. 

That was when you were heading at normal speeds.

That’d be nice.

You could take a stroll.

You could add a park backdrop.

You stumbled in a dark room where the previews barely illuminated the walkway.

Donnie must have had the room’s map memorized because he was steadfast in heading toward your seats.

“Here!” Donnie was far too chipper.

He released you and sat down.

He watched you expectantly.

Could he not see your face?

You supposed not because the screen chose that moment to go dark in preparation to run the film. It left you fumbling blindly for your armrests. Once you got those it was feeling around for the bed of your seat and forcing your ass to make contact. Then you could sit unfettered as the movies rolled.

“Welcome-!!!”

The voice boomed straight through your skeleton.

There was no way to reframe this. 

You could barely think while the pre-recorded announcer detailed your double feature.

You knew this.

You studied.

You had researched the shows.

This first film was one about super massive black holes and then another was about super volcanoes.

It was meant to be superb.

You drearily closed your eyes and sank into your recliner.

The screen tore through your lids and you were shaky in cracking them open.

You burped on contact with a reverberating bass.

It caused acid to eat up your esophagus and you feared the worst. You had eaten too much food and run too far upon it. It had no chance to settle and now it was stewing in the pit of your stomach. You sent all your mental fortitude to strengthen your guts. You weren’t going to puke on your first date with Donnie; you were just overtaxed. You were already resting so all you needed to do was sit back and wait for your nausea to pass as the universe above you collapsed in on itself.

You focused on breathing through your nose to keep your mouth shut. Any extra saliva being produced was not going to go towards anything else. A man droned on about the starry skies. Distances were spoken of and one of which was that of the Earth to the moon. It was meant to give you perspective as you were then flung further out into the cosmos. Your partner was not so far away and you snuck a glance at him as your churning stomach slowed to a gentle lapping of waves. 

It then nearly flipped at the sight of him. 

The very galaxy reflected in his wide eyes.

His dilated pupils were the first sign that he was utterly enthralled with the film. From there his lips were parted in awe. His hands sat tightly folded across his abdomen as if to keep his excitement in place. Space was him and he was more than a rock circling a planet. He was perspective and your heart thumped fast from where it had just started to slow.

Him enjoying the show was one thing. 

Him liking it to this extent spoke of something far greater.

You wanted to give him this. 

You were going to take this man to every place that was even sort of related to his interests.

You were going to create an environment where he could always be this happy.

He would do the same for you and you knew it.

He blinked once, seemingly after having not for a while, and turned to you with a finger raised in point.

He caught your staring and that eager look was now one just for you.

You might have floundered if you weren’t laying down.

The movie moved on, but Donnie’s attention had shifted. He came in close and quietly asked how you were. You told him honestly about your toil and he asked how to help. You brazenly told him that this was helping and he sent you a devilish look. He tucked in closer with a tease about where your eyes should be. You pecked his cheek in retaliation and he rumbled sweetness before gesturing down.

You looked and he had a grip on the arm rest. You gave him space and he showed you that there was a mechanism that loosened it. You sent your gaze up at him and in moments he had the thing keeping you apart moved out of the way. He asked cautiously for permission to touch you and you did the same as you scooted half onto his chair. He took you in with an arm around your shoulders and you settled until you could comfortably seat your head against his plastron.

Once situated, you were the picture of comfort and all concerns of your upset stomach evaporated. Bubble guts had become swarming butterflies and you still weren’t watching the movie. Instead, you were reeling over the intimate positioning which somehow seemed more intense then the kisses you shared. You supposed it was the prolonged horizontal contact and the double entendre there had you beet red.

Donnie pet your arm to add insult to injury and you rooted into him. His scent wafted up and you were further pacified. You wished the film series was longer than two and eventually your blood pressure evened out. A narrator was talking about star destruction and you mentally mourned poor Leo. It was a joke you thought Donnie would appreciate, but then you would have to tell him that you thought of him as the moon. You hadn’t yet and that was something you pocketed.

You would tell him.

Not now.

Now was perfect.

You were close to dozing by the time the first film ended.

You roused by the way the narrator’s voice led and got to see a summary of future black hole contenders before credits rolled. Donnie then squeezed you for your attention and asked what you thought. You instantly admitted all you missed and he dutifully filled you in. His explanations were far messier, but at least you could ask questions. He was delighted to answer and you almost didn’t want to stop when the next film began.

You shared a look that said you would continue your discussion later and this time you turned over to give the screen your attention. A man spoke of the Yellowstone Caldera and you saw idyllic imagery of the national park. Herds of bison roamed and all seemed calm until you were told that animals had an inherent sense for danger. The film soon devolved, citing wildlife already fleeing the area before charts popped up to show what the imminent US volcanic eruption would look like.

You weren’t in the zone that would be immediately wiped out.

You were in the territory that would be blanketed in years of ash.

The temperatures would plummet.

The food supply would disappear.

The wind would blow toxic fumes.

There was no recovery and, according to this film, it was either happening right now or could happen any millisecond.

The doomsaying went straight to your core.

How could you escape?

You couldn’t, the narrator told you point blank.

Planes would be grounded.

Ships wouldn’t sail.

You would be trapped.

You would die.

You were going to die.

You turned over in horror.

You moved away from Donnie and away from any modicum of comfort. It didn’t seem believable, but you doubted Donnie would go to a show that was anything less than produced by an accredited institution. You had only just started living and everything was going to be cut short.

It wasn’t even by your hand.

That was somehow worse.

If you were your own worst enemy then you could stomach it, but death by natural disaster seemed like cruel fate.

Why now?

Why when everything had started to look in your favor?

Donnie’s hand curled over your arm.

You flinched deeper into your seat.

It felt like if you tucked your head far enough into the musty chair corner then maybe you’d block out the continued sound of your demise.

Donnie pressed your limb and begged you to respond.

You wearily rose to send him a quivering lip.

You couldn’t reign it in.

He was around you in an instant.

He blocked the screen.

He slid his goggles in place around your head to silence the movie.

He created a protective shell around you.

“Y/N.” His voice came clear through your headphones.

“How do you do that?” You choked.

“Comm in my tech gauntlet, but that’s not important.”

You shook your head.

He shushed you in a soothing way.

“No, it’s not important. We’re just going to die.”

“We’re-?” He repeated a key word before the sentence struck him. “Oh, Y/N…”

“Don’t…” You turned away from him. “Don’t. I didn’t know. I don’t…”

“Do you mind looking at me? I need to see your reaction since I misjudged it once already.”

You squinted for a moment before you looked over your shoulder at him.

He held a hand up to your face and curled his fingers.

You set your cheek against his palm and wallowed.

He smoothed the skin with his thumb and studied you for a long moment before he spoke. “This film is a farce.”

Your brow pinched. 

“I thought you came to the same conclusion and were so similarly put off that you couldn’t stand to keep watching.”

“That’s… one way to put… it?”

“Y/N, while this…” He sneered. “… scenario is possible, the likelihood is something to the tune of 1 in 700,000 plus.”

You blinked once.

“Which is around three decimals points below the zero percentile.”

Your lips rounded, but no sound came.

“As in very, very, note the emphasis, unlikely.”

You snagged his arm.

He cradled you. “I have a lengthy admonishment prepared for the box office. I was already furious that they released this purportedly cautious drivel, but now knowing that it has upset you?

A rarity, you thought just this once you would let Donnie unleash as much spite as he wanted.

“Perspective.” He chuffed. “Yes, we will die. Yes, we could, theoretically, die by volcanic eruption, but in my, and I do have quite a lot of faith in this particular observation, opinion, I don’t believe a caldera on the other side of the country will be the cause of our demises.”

You leaned into him.

His beak bumped your cheek several times. “I will blanketly surmise old age will do both of us in.” 

“Oh?”

“Yes.” He purposefully nuzzled you. “Something peaceful. We’ll be old and wrinkly toget-”

You felt him bite his own tongue.

Pain curled him closer and you were struck by how much of him was pressed to you.

He was spooning you and, in dipping further down, he tucked into your shoulder.

You were tentative for a moment before holding his head.

He exhaled, recuperating.

It gave you some time to think.

“Perspective, huh?” 

He gave a bare nod.

“It’s like… shifting expectation.”

He made a curious sound.

You shook your head. “Today has been…”

He finally lifted his head.

You looked into his eyes. “... like the movie, I guess?”

“Which?”

You wriggled to see him better and tried to buy yourself time to decide. 

The amount you gathered in rolling onto your back either wasn’t enough or that was the point. 

You went with the latter. “Both.” 

He adjusted to better lay beside you and watched from overhead. “I don’t understand…” 

Credits rolled behind him.

You brushed his jaw.

“A double feature of good parts and… cautionary drivel…” 

“Cautionary…?” His being steeped in worry.

“N-not l-like w-with y-you!” You almost sat up and bumped your heads in the process. 

He gave you further space and you mourned it. 

You watched his lips sour into a curved shape.

You moved to catch him before he spun further away from you. “Not you and not us.” 

He studied you. “Y/N…” 

“It’s like…” You swept a hand over your face to hone your thoughts. “A reminder to not… take everything at f-face value.. There’s more… More to the story and… it’s… well… easy to forget with you…” 

His alarm did not soothe. 

Your heart clenched and you pleaded with him to understand. 

He could only hopelessly take your hand. 

The lights came up around him.

You both sat up along with others and there were a few murmurs.

“Geez, what a downer!”

“I have enough existential dread!”

“Add that to the ‘everything’s on fire’ list, literally.”

You looked out at the people leaving and then at Donnie who had retreated to his seat.

“You know before our date?” You tried again. 

“This morning?” Donnie offered.

“L-longer, how we’ve both been… waiting for today…?”

He gave a nod. 

“This morning…” 

He gazed at you dully. 

Your shoulders came up in apology. “The hours leading up… I had… trouble remembering this was… a date…” 

His head tilted. 

You pinched the tip of your thumbnail. “I thought h-how… could this be… different…? It’s us… Us together… We like being together… but then when we’re out… everytime something… got in the way… I got so frustrated… like this our date! How c-could anything get in the way of u-us!?” 

He blinked in surprise. 

“Nothing… really did though… Did it…? I k-kept thinking it was… but w-was it…?” 

For a long moment, he watched you. 

Then he stood and dusted his pants off. 

“Not really, no.” He held out his hand. 

You took it and he helped you up. 

“Do you ever wonder why?” He spoke a little distant and led you down a walkway. 

You followed after and enjoyed the slow pace. “Why us?”

The back of his head nodded. 

You considered it until you were back out in the planetarium’s lobby. 

He veered you off, out of the way of patrons, and appeared to wait for the answer. 

“No.” You decided with a small smile. “Well… maybe in an i-ironic way… like ‘why you of all people?!’ but as soon as I was allowed… Everything since… liking you has been the easiest decision in the world.”

He made a surprised peep.

You didn’t give it attention in case it embarrassed him. “I know hard… Trust me… It’s living that’s hard, but knowing you’re there…? That you’re a given? You cheered me up every time anything got me down. Just… looking at you m-makes me happier…”

He squeezed your hand.

“As f-far as first dates go…?” You finally looked at him and grimaced slightly. “Maybe n-not the best, but… I think I’d love to practice… I love the idea of seeing more of y-you…”

He released a held breath.

“Again and again…”

An attendant swept nearby and you moved closer.

It gave you a better look of how stuck your partner was. 

For whatever reason, you felt moving him was best and took him to the closest display. There were the plaques you once dreamed about and you positioned it so both of you were standing in front of one. “Our d-date’s not o-over either… U-unless…?” 

He surfaced with a swallow. “We have yet to begin! We’re far from over, not ever!”

You sent a bright smile at him. “Let’s do wh-whatever we want for… however… long we want! It’s our t-time!”

He liquefied before he gave an eager nod. “As endless as the universe…”

“Like the first movie…?”

“The only movie.” He jeered. 

“We’re… like… a universe…?” You squirmed in your warmth.

He pondered you and then the display in front of him with a furrowed brow. 

“I think of you as the moon.” You told him. 

He turned right out of his thoughts. “The moon?”

“Yeah…” Instead of self-consciousness, a bashfulness flooded you. “You’re watchful… radiant..  and… you illuminate the dark… My dark…”

He bumped you as he got close. “I’m the moon to Mikey’s sun?”

“Maybe at first…” You resisted hiding your eyes. “You o-only cared about him in the beginning. It seemed fitting like that, that you were his r-reflection, but now you’re your own thing… The same, but different. Brighter… I… sort of… labeled all of you brothers… like that…?” You inched away.

His growing interest was steadfast.

“Y-you h-hid s-something earlier!” You forced out in desperation.

“Doesn’t sound like me…” He looked out the top left corner of his vision and right back to you.

It was a clear sign of a lie and gave you enough courage to press him. “You said something about old age and then you cut yourself-”

A hand came up and failed to cover his mounting blush.

“S-see!?”

“I was hoping you hadn’t noticed…” 

“I d-did!” 

He made a rusty sort of noise before his jaw creaked to speak. “I was going to say we’d get old and wrinkly… together…”

Your stomach flipped so hard that you stumbled a single step.

“Naming us the sun and moon or whatever else is one thing! I am getting ahead of myself and moving too fast! You can and should disregard that reveal! You pried it from me! Consider it a snap decision based on how frustratingly easy the ‘us’ you discussed is!  I’m-!”

You pressed yourself flush to his front and stared up at him with all your wanting.

“Copernican heliocentrism, Y/N! We’re in public! You can’t just… look at me like that!” His face was a darkened mess. 

“N-not in p-public then… got it.” You hid into his plastron.

“Not in…!? Have some decency!!!” He wrapped his arms around you as if to cover you up. “I’m trying to mitigate rushing our relations and here you are, shameless! What else am I supposed to think!?”

You peeked out to eye him. “Nothing?” 

“Nothing?!” He squawked. 

He also freed you and you gave him some breathing room by flitting away. 

Just before you exited his space completely, you caught his hand to pull him with you to the next display. “Let’s look at all this before you yell at the staff about the movie…” 

He came with an overloaded wobble. 

“Besides… what else is there to think about when it’s us..?”

(Check out behind the scenes for this fic and more on my Patreon. You can follow me there, here, or the tag #sunshinemoonshinefic for updates)

I return from my vacation with preemptive praises for my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[lurveinn]

I’m so curious about Wizarding fashion. JKR isn’t very physically descriptive- we just know that wizards wear robes, which are outlandish to muggles, and pointy hats, but what does that really mean? What kind of robe? Magical fashion clearly isn’t very gendered, since Harry remarks on a man at the Quidditch World Cup wearing a dress and insisting that it’s unisex (certainly not the case in Britain at the time), but we don’t have any other parameters. Keeping in mind the uniform from the movies, and the fact that in SWM, Snape isn’t wearing any trousers, here’s what I think wizards wear:

1. Flowing silhouettes and cloaks; clearly, wizards love a good statement cloak. Think tassels and frills (not like Ron’s Yule Ball fit!), massive extended sleeves and lots of draping.

2. Skirts: let’s be honest, just one singular robe, without any layering, doesn’t give us much to work with. Skirts go with the general silhouette, explain why the World Cup wizard thought muggle men wore dresses, and keep with the no-trousers thing from SWM. I’m South Asian, so I like to have a little fun with it and think of wizards in ghararas (my favourite item of clothing); the Wizarding World is quite insular, travel is relatively unrestricted (hello, they have magic!), everyone has a common enemy in muggles (and other species- goblins, house-elves) etcetera, so race probably doesn’t function the same way and I headcanon a lot of cross-cultural exchange. Plus, wizarding fashion isn’t restricted by weather- they have warming charms- so wearing clothes made for hot climates in England, for example, wouldn’t be a problem.

Plus, I actually think saris are a natural fancy dress option- flowy, drapey, colourful. Speaking of which-

3. If there’s one fanon idea that I hate (aside from fanon!Sirius, of course), it’s this image of wizards (specifically high society wizards) as reserved. Sorry, did we read the same books? Wizards, even posh, rich wizards, like the Malfoys and Blacks, are camp and very outlandish. They do house-elf taxidermy, they keep their wands in canes. Just because Hogwarts uniforms are black doesn’t mean that people dress like they’re in mourning all the time. People can be total snobs and obsessed with their image and still wear bright pink, insane robes, because guess what? They have different social conventions than we do. Men and women dress basically the same, so there is no reason to believe that a man wearing a flowing robe would be against the norm. I say this as someone who believes misogyny and homophobia are well and truly alive in Wizarding society, especially in pureblooded families where the emphasis is on continuing the line; they definitely exist, but they probably look different.

4. My personal obsession and headcanon: rich wizards wearing bones. Look, I might not think of them as racist in the traditional sense, but they are undeniably speciesist, if that’s a word? They think of themselves as superior, and other sentient magical species either work under (goblins) or are enslaved (house-elves) by wizards. We only see Veelas very briefly, but despite them being admired for their beauty, I doubt wizards treat them very well. So- show me blood-purists wearing corsets made of goblin bones and teeth. Show me Veelas being hunted for their blood to stain and dye clothes with. Show me exotic “magical creatures” that are humanoid and capable of reasoning and should have rights, like mermaids and werewolves, being hunted for their scales and pelts while also being ostracised for being ‘non-human’. It’s terrible, but that’s the kind of archaic jewellery and fashion the old families that the fandom likes to fetishise would like to wear.

[sorrowmoons]

What happens if you got your hands on their dolls?

Cw- Horror elements, sleep paralysis, paranoia

No gender mention for reader (also not proofread, apologies for any mistakes!)

-

-

You had been strolling through downtown Hatchetfield. Browsing at the stores that lined the streets. The residents of Hatchetfield went on about their day, sitting in small coffee shops, gossiping the latest drama. Tucked away from the public eye, down a rather mysterious ally-way, was a thrift store. Small, aged and Derelict. It had seen its fare share of years, that’s for sure. You had heard from a friend that this place was the best to browse vintage findings a while ago. Now, you’re a regular.

Most of the time you didn’t buy anything. Rather browsed the small shelving’s, filled with Knick-knacks and trinkets. Creepy porcelain dolls, musty-smelling clothes. You always loved thrift stores. Although, a fair amount of the stores where cash grabs. Pricing something over price—claiming it’s vintage and rare. When really, it’s just an old item no one really cares about.

But this one had its fair share of decently priced items. So, almost as a weekly ritual, you came down, looking to see if you can find anything of interest. You were current inspecting an item. A doll. It had pink fluffy fur, and a large plastic mouth attached to it. It’s fur curled and tangled—clearly an old plush. You inspected it, intrigued by its curious and odd design. You had placed the doll back down after a few moments of inspecting it, almost calling it quits when you glanced over at the far shelving, way in the back of the store. Piled together was four more dolls—similar to the one you had just inspected. You picked up the pink one, bringing it to the other, similar ones. They all were.. odd. Not a typical design you’d see on dolls that seemingly look made for children.

But, despite that, they were all pretty cool. After looking them over, you decided to grab…

Nibbly ;

The original one you picked up couldn’t leave your heart. Despite the weird factor of it just having a mouth for a face—it was oddly cute.

You brought the doll home with you, placing the fluffy plush on a shelf in your room. Nothing weird had happened the first few days you had the fella, but… certain, weird occurrences happened soon after,

For one, you never remember leaving your fridge open. You could have sworn you closed if properly.

Almost daily now, the fridge is cracked ajar. You continue to close it, even slamming it shut. But regardless, it finds it way open. One night, you stared at it. Didn’t budge. What could be causing it?

It also didn’t help by the fact food would go missing. Left overs you could have sworn you left in there—gone.

Sometime, at random, you could feel random warmth wash over you. As if a big huff of hot air was directed at you. You weren’t anywhere near your heaters.

Whenever you cooked or had food out, it always felt like.. something, was there. You could never shake the feeling of being watched while eating.

Oh, don’t forget plates being randomly cleaned. Dirtied ones you’d save to clean in the morning, clean and shiny.

You said it was sleep paralysis, but many nights—a warm, heavy weight would be placed over you. You could even… feel it. Soft and warm. But sometimes crushing. This freaked you out the most.

The last straw was when you awoke one day to find the doll tucked in bed with you… what is happening?!

Pokey ;

You had always been a fan of masked things, and just masks in general. The mysterious vibe they give off was always alluring. With an interesting design to the mask, you couldn’t just leave the doll.

You brought the doll home with you, placing the masked plush on a shelf in your room. Nothing weird had happened the first few days you had the fella, but… certain, weird occurrences happened soon after,

You would sometimes hear faint music playing, coming from a place unknown to you. You had assumed it was your noisy neighbours blasting their music. But you had to credit them, they had good taste. Was it a coincidence they played all of your favourite songs?

In your sleep, you swore you could hear soft humming. To a song, rhythmic and melodic. You couldn’t lie, it helped you sleep sometimes. You were convinced it was just in your dreams.

Whenever you would play music, be it in your phone or a different device—it would glitch to a random song. Most classical and old—this made you confused and questioned whether or not you needed a new device. For now, you’d keep your current one. You’ve gotten used to the glitches and switch ups.

You’d get random urges to just,,, sing. At very inconvenient or random times. Dare you say.. you were oddly good at it now?

All you can think about is music now. Humming, tapping your fingers to a nonexistent beat. You never really realized how much of a big music fan you have become

Now, when the music switches up—you keep it. It’s not too bad, now that you play it..

Whenever you hum or sing to a song, in the back of your mind—there is a different voice. A honey-smooth deep one,, or maybe it’s just your imagination?

Tinky ;

The seemingly goat-like doll caught your eye the most. The goofy expression gave you a hint of amusement whenever you looked at the doll.

You brought the doll home with you, placing the masked plush on a shelf in your room. Nothing weird had happened the first few days you had the fella, but… certain, weird occurrences happened soon after,

You could hear footsteps, walking around the house. Now, whenever you heard these—you were focused on something or half asleep—but you couldn’t get the sound out of your head. Sure, they sounded like footsteps—but they almost sounded like.. hooves?

Paired with that was small fits of laughter or giggles or cackles. You heard these in the back of your head too. Why was it always when you were half asleep or preoccupied with thoughts? You could never pin-point the sound fully.

Trinkets you never remembered having appear in strange places. Sometimes you’d find puzzles pieces to a set you don’t recall buying. Or pieces to a chess game you don’t remember having.

Tuffs of random fur-like hair on your cloths appear. You don’t have any animals with yellow fur.. where is this coming from? You surely haven’t moved that doll from its place on the shelf ever since you bought it. How could it be its fur?

After buying lint-rollers and cleaning all the fur off of your clothing, you continue to gather the puzzle pieces you collected through the days. You had thought you would eventually make a complete puzzle with all these pieces—but you had thrown them out before realizing it.

What was most confusing and worrisome of all was finding a yellow.. cube, of sorts. Laying on your bed. It looked like one of those rubric cubes. Upon closer inspection.. why did you hear voices? And why did you feel a pull towards it?

Blinky ;

The plush that drew you in was the purple one. It’s big eye staring back at you. It was oddly.. cute.

You never can really shake off the feeling of being watched. It feels like whenever you enter your room, an immense feeling washes over you that.. so,etchings watching you. Goosebumps always crawl over you. Sometimes, it makes sleeping hard. Sometimes, in the corner of your eyes, it’s like you see eyes. Or, something along those lines. Blinking, always staring. But whenever you look, nothings there.

The dreams don’t help, either. Thousands of eyes staring back at you. Whenever you awake, they’re always gone. You tend to get a lot more sleep paralysis, too. Like.. you’re awake, but can’t move. Most of the time it’s just eyes staring at you—unblinking. Sometimes, it’s a figure, long necked, coated with thick black fur. It’s big red eye staring at you from the end of your bed. It will sometimes move too. At the side of your bed. Like its face is getting closer and closer to yours every minute. Nothing happens though. “Just nightmares” you tell yourself. That’s all.

Now, you don’t remember moving the doll. First you didn’t pay it much mind, as you thought you had just forgotten it was placed in a certain way. But it always seems to be looking in your direction. It’s eye always on you. Maybe that’s why you always felt watched? It’s weird eye on you always? Sill you. You’re getting paranoid over some doll.

You moved the doll on night to get some peace of mind. Placing it on your desk, facing away from you. The feeling of being watched went away a little. But as you awake the next morning, the doll, perfectly perched, sitting on the end of your bed. It’s eye on you.

What the hell?

Wiggly ;

The most curious one to you was the green one. The tentacle design reminded you, of course, of an octopi. How cool!

You brought the doll home with you, placing the tentacled doll on a shelf in your room. Nothing weird had happened the first few days you had the fella, but… certain, weird occurrences happened soon after,

What you didn’t realize was the guts voice box. You had been squeezing his belly for fun, until you felt the hard box inside. Pressing around, you triggered the voice on.

As if in perfect condition, the dolls voice box spoke. Corny and cheesy lines speaking to you like a child’s toy. But nonetheless, it was admittedly adorable. Very soft, too.

Over the days, nothing weird happened, unlike the other dolls, this one takes it time.

You were in your kitchen one morning, making yourself a drink. Mid stretch, you heard the sing-song voice of the doll echo from your bedroom. That’s odd.. why did it play? From what you know, only pressure on its stomach could do that. You waited to hear the voice again, but nothing happened. You walked to your room, inspecting the doll. Still sitting on the shelf, perfectly. Untouched.

You had just thought it was old, probably broken in some areas. Who knows how sensitive the trigger is to activate its voice. That’s what you told yourself for comfort more than anything.

But unlike the others, this one grows bold. More direct.

You sat on your couch, watching some Tv. Your phone buzzed as a notification popped up. You turned your attention away from the Tv, looking down at your phone that was placed on the small table by your couch. After a moment, you looked back. You jumped when you saw the plush doll staring at you, sitting in your Tv stand.

That day, you brought hum back to the thrift store. The same four dolls were still there, in the same small corner. You placed him back down. You can’t blame yourself, you were frightened on how the damn doll was able to make it from your room to your living room In the blink of an eye. Was this doss possessed or something?

That night, you went home, no sign of the doll, thankfully. But the dream you had did not help the situation. You, trapped on your bed, tentacles pinning you down. All the lights here out. But sitting on your desk, was the doll. It flowing a faint green. It stared at you. Somehow, you got the feeling of amusement from the doll.

You went out the next day, trying to remove the thoughts of that doll. Throughout the day, you could hear the voice from it. The giggles that sent your heart racing. What was happening??

But as you went back home, unlocking your door. That doll. That damned doll. Sitting on your kitchen counter was its fluffy green body, its bulging eyes staring at the door you were standing at.

This doll was so possessed.

All of them !!! ;

You couldn’t resist the urge to buy them all! They looked like a set, at least. They all looked very nice once you brought them home, making a nice space for them on a shelf.

Such silly designs, you thought. For children’s toys, they had rather.. freakish elements. Eh, who knows what kids are into these days.

Getting ready for bed that night, you took off the shirt you wore. Your hands went to your pants, almost about to slide the waist band off your hips until you heard faint.. giggles? Laughter, it seemed. Different voices.

You couldn’t pinpoint the direction of the noise. Disturbed, you walked out of your room, deciding to change in your bathroom that night.

The sleep was.. strange, to put it. You felt watched, overheating, and squished. Going in and out of sleep. Weird voices and imagery came to your dreams. Imagery you can’t quite place. Mostly large shadow like.. creatures? They seemed to be preoccupied, not looking at you. As if conversing between themselves. Just dreams… it’s just dreams.

In the morning, you woke with fur in your mouth and on your clothes. What the hell? Where did this come from? The fur matched the colours of the dolls.. maybe you just had some fur fall onto your cloths and into your mouth, maybe.

Random noises throughout your house made you shaken. Like.. footsteps. Humming. Giggling. Since when was your house possessed?

Despite the fear of some sort of.. presence now being here, in your house, they didn’t cause harm. Well, you were disturbed. Goosebumps always finding its way on your skin. Heart racing in fear of the sudden noises. But they didn’t.. hurt you. Maybe it’s all okay? Just in your head, right?

What drove you over the edge was the dolls being placed in random places. The goat one in your drawers, as if rummaging through them. The Purple one with the eye, staring at you from random places. The masked on was near the record player you kept in your living room, The pink one, in the fridge??? The green one seemed to stay.. as if watching over.

You looked these dolls up, finding nothing on them. Well, besides the one called “Tickle-me-Wiggly”. He was for a fair price. The others, though? You couldn’t find anything on them. You listed them on some random collectors sight. A guy, named “Sherman Young” seemed interested. Like… extremely interested. He wrote a whole paragraph on how much he wanted them. Didn’t help that various lewd innuendos added on. Oh well, whatever to get these dolls off your hands.

You packaged them up, eventually looking them over. They looked back at you from the small box. You felt oddly.. guilty. Like you were a bad person for giving them away. You sighed, mumbling out an apology to the lifeless dolls. Or, well, so you thought.

You gave the box to the overly excited old man. Practically drooling over the dolls. He talked to himself about how they’ll enjoy it back at him home. You shrugged it off, trying to enjoy the relief you felt to get those creepy dolls away from you. Anyways, you got a decent sum of cash.

As you lazed around your house, the dolls couldn’t leave your mind. Sure, it was more.. comfortable, not having to hear the noises anymore. You client wrap your head around the doll possession. Frankly, you didn’t want to believe if was doll possession. Just.. forget about it. They are gone. It’s fine!

You awoke to angry messages from that Sherman Young. You groggily rubbed your eyes, scrolling through the messages. They talked about how it was a scam, and how the dolls disappeared. What? How was that possible? Also, how was it your fault??

But you couldn’t ignore the eerie gut feeling you got. You stepped out of bed, changing into your clothes. Strolling out of your room, you walked to your kitchen. Brewing yourself a cup of coffee, you turned to lean against your kitchen counter. As you did, you faced five dolls.

Those same five dolls you got rid of yesterday. You nearly shriek as you realized that, yes, they are really there. You didn’t know what to do. How is this possible??

Before you could say or do anything, a voice rang out. The same voice the green doll would speak in its friendly voice.

“Did you really think you could get rid of us?” The voice spoke. giggles and cackles followed suit. Five voices, laughing at you. You realized the source of the voices were the dolls. But as the laughing drew out, they grew deeper, more coarse and loud. As if surrounding you now. “How rude.”

You felt cornered, being surrounded by the voices. You almsot felt.. drawn to them. As if being lured.

“Where are your manners? We haven’t even had our fun yet!”

What did you get yourself into?

-

-

I’m sorry if this sucked y’all , but I wanted to give something to the LiB fans

[intothedysphoria]

When they were in drag, Billy went by Holly.

Apparently it was a reference according to Eddie Munson. A queer icon from the 80s. Steve looked Holly Johnson up one night and admitted he could see why Billy would be drawn to him.

They didn’t really care about gender. Most times Steve saw Billy, they were blending masculine and feminine clothing together seamlessly, not caring about the abuse people hurled at them on the street.

Steve wished he cared that little about how he was perceived.

It might have been two solid years of watching Kalvin Garrah before realising how disgusting those ideas were but Steve still paused at even wearing the colour pink, worried it would somehow negate his transness. All ideas of Steve’s masculinity dependent on a fucking colour.

The very definition of toxic masculinity.

Billy could probably see how insecure Steve was in his identity and that was the reason they never even glanced his way. They spent most of their time at death metal concerts or drag shows, talking to interesting people.

Steve was probably the least interesting man alive.

And of course he was hopelessly in love with Billy.

Well, maybe infatuated was a better term for it but the general gist was there.

So he hung around places that were noisy and crowded and everything Steve hated just to get a look at them. They were absolutely spectacular every time. It almost made all the stress worth it.

Robin asked him why he didn’t just talk to them. Steve responded that he’d talk to Billy when she talked to Heather.

Both of them took a moment to think about how disasterously single they were that night.

Eddie’s birthday took them to a punk bar. Steve wasn’t quite sure how he’d been invited but apparently him and Eddie actually were friends. It was nice, actually being someone’s friend, not just being in a clique.

What Eddie hadn’t mentioned was how loud it would be.

Steve made it through about three songs before he broke. It was clearly a very friendly environment but he just couldn’t cope. Instead he sat on the sidewalk outside, hands shaking slightly as he tried to calm his breathing.

The sensory overload bordering on panic attack was interrupted by the most beautiful voice Steve had ever heard.

“Hey man, you ok?”

Standing above him was Billy Hargrove, dressed in denim head to toe, small bits of glitter adorning their moustache.

Steve could feel his brain leaking out of his ears as he nodded, not sure what to say.

Most people would have walked off after that.

Billy stayed with him the entire night.

They talked to him about their cat, their baby sister, their annoying boss. Steve returned some nervous responses until he gained more confidence and found that talking to Billy was shockingly easy.

It was kind of a bummer when Steve realised he’d have to make his way back to Robin to give her a ride home but she was already arm in arm with Heather, flashing him a thumbs up and waving wildly.

Out of the many things Billy was, they were also incredibly forthright.

Because they just looked Steve dead in the eyes and asked to kiss him. Steve said yes and despite the having to jump wildly because he was so much shorter, it was incredible.

The next morning Steve found himself sitting on the floor of Billy’s apartment while they did his makeup and it was the most at peace he’d felt in a long time.

[sleepingdeath-light]

home again ; yandere!wally darling

requested by ; anonymous (09/05/23)

word count ; 2031

content ; platonic yanderes, memory loss (the puppets all had their memories forcibly wiped), references to child/teen reader, obsessive protectiveness, author’s first time writing something platonic so… yeah

note ; i haven’t written anything like this before (sfw yandere stuff) so apologies if it seems a tad off. similarly i’m still adjusting to writing wally’s character in terms of dialogue and such, so that may also seem a smidge ooc.

fandom ; welcome home

pairing ; platonic wally darling x gender neutral!reader

read also on ; ao3

It was a beautifully melancholy evening: the stars and moon were obscured with thick, grey clouds that loomed overhead like ragged old curtains; the air was thick with dust and pollen that clung to your skin and clothes like a man hanging onto the edge of a steep cliff, digging their claws in and holding on with all the relentless might you’d come to hate; your room was only dimly illuminated by the pale blue light emanating from your monitor, the low hum of the vents the only sound to compliment the clicking of keys and the tapping of the mouse. Quiet, drab and dull; how very typical of spring.

But at the very least it gave you all the excuse you needed to sit behind a screen and doomscroll. Tired eyes skimming over articles and activists decrying the latest tragedy, thousands of crabs in the metaphorical bucket of social media all fighting for the attention of bystanders — only taking pause when you came across something all too familiar, yet at the same time entirely new.

‘Does anyone else remember Welcome Home? It was pretty popular when it aired back in the 70s and my friends and I are trying to create a complete archive for it’ — the caption read. Below it was a highlighted link and a picture that had been burned into your brain since childhood: bright swatches of paint adorning every surface, all seeing eyes as big as can be, and in front of it, that permanent smile carved into yellow felt. Wally Darling and Home, you remembered them both clearly enough — clearer than you’d have liked, even.

It had been decades since you’d actively thought back on Welcome Home, on your brief stint in stardom, and frankly you’d have rather it’d been kept that way. You still held a bit of a grudge over getting axed: ‘too mature’, yeah right! Every kid loves astrology and nobody is too old to talk about their feelings… you were only 14 for crying out loud! Too mature, your ass.

But perhaps, you reasoned, it wouldn’t be too bad to take a quick trip down memory lane. Sure you’d loved the show when it aired, but you stopped watching after your section was cut, so maybe it would be cool to see what changed in the interim — and, either way, your experiences would probably be helpful to the archivists. So no harm, no foul.

————

The site was easy enough to navigate but man you didn’t expect to get so emotional when you went looking through the recovered art. They looked exactly the same as you remembered, all of them — which is kind of silly to think about since puppets and tv show characters in general tend not to change since, well, they were meant to stay consistent. Frank was always going to look terribly stern, and Julie was always going to come onto scene with a new fabulous hairdo, and Eddie was always going to trip over his own feet on his rounds, and Wally was always going to open and close each episode with a nod to the audience. These things were staples of the characters and the show’s structure so of course they’d be the same.

But, still, you somehow felt like they should have changed in your absence. A small part of your mind, an irrational part surely, crying out that they were alive and that living things were made to change — which was silly. And, frankly, a little embarrassing that you’d even had that thought at all.

So you pushed that idea to the very back of your mind where it belonged and continued to scroll through the various pages of the website. Art from official books (you were sure you even owned the ‘ask Wally’ type book and that it was still at your parents’ place), merchandise like pop up figures (the sort that were found only in cereal boxes and magazines), promotional posters and even one piece from your short tenure on the show. You remembered posing for that photograph, being told to smile and to wrap your arms around Eddie and Wally — but for some reason you couldn’t quite recall what their puppeteers were called.

Or if they even had any puppeteers in the first place.

No. That can’t be right. They were puppets, characters, they had to have someone controlling and voicing them — but none of the promotional art nor your memories supported that basic truth. It didn’t make sense.

None of it made sense. This was why you’d tried to forget that show so desperately after you left. It messed with your head far too much to be worth the effort so why bother burning out over questions that could be explained by a faulty memory.

A memory that could, in picture perfect detail, recall the route from Howdy’s store to Home as clear as crystal — as if it were your own route to-and-from primary school. A memory that could replay patchy conversations between Wally and Julie, bittersweet bickering over hairspray and hairpins that you could only recall in pieces, but that still rang clearly as if you were thinking of childhood friends. A memory that was imprinted with the feeling of warm felt embraces and puffs of warm air from stencil cut mouths that would have been impossible if they weren’t alive. Moving eyes, small bodies, freely walking, freely talking — alive and well and clear as day in your mind as normally as recalling your parents arguing over a cup of freshly brewed coffee on the mornings of each shoot.

The distinctly strong smell of the synthetic hairspray Wally used that would hang around him and mixed with the scent of oil paint like a cologne — that burned your nose if you hung around too close to him in the early morning. The sheer joy of Howdy picking you up and tossing you in the air as a congratulations for your first scene done well — caterpillar fuzz that stuck to your clothes for days, as strong as velcro. The way you and Julie squealed when Barnaby shook back and forth and sent droplets of muddy water raining down on you and on her freshly done up hair — and the joke that followed her exasperated tirade as you, through giggles, explained frustration to the audience through a camera they seemed to not be able to see.

Memories that kept unearthing themselves the deeper you went into the site, eventually culminating with you tearing up at the sight of old friends you’d been forced to leave behind. Silly, perhaps, but you recall telling the audience that it was healthy to cry and to let it all go — so at least your teenage self would be proud of your emotional vulnerability.

After a good hour of this, and more than in need of a break, you finally clicked on the attached message board and typed up a simple few sentences. A greeting and a farewell all in one before you closed down your computer and went to bed.

‘I used to have a segment on Welcome Home when I was a kid. I was meant to do astrology and emotions, before I got cut for being too old lol. This brought back so many memories. Thank you, all.’

————

Wally hadn’t meant to linger — really, he hadn’t — but there had been something oddly familiar about his latest visitor that he couldn’t quite place. Even from behind the screen he was trapped within, even as he watched their message load in, he could tell that they were different. It was their eyes, those tearful knowing eyes — he was sure he’d seen them before in that somewhere different, somewhere brighter, that came before the end he and his neighbours were trapped in.

When he saw their eyes he saw himself, a twisted altered reflection of himself that was filled to bursting with the warmth and awareness that he was created to hold within himself. A child’s eyes in the form of someone who he didn’t know yet he knew he must have once. A lingering, niggling feeling in the back of his skull, like fingertips brushing and scratching and digging into his fabric brain — rearranging and scouring and destroying and reaching for something that he couldn’t quite find.

He winced and squinted and stared through the screen to no avail, tilting his head and watching them as they flicked from screen to screen to screen desperate for a sign that he could use to place this familiar stranger. Unable to do so until finally — finally — their note came through and he was able to read the short greeting they’d left behind.

Then, and only then, did those forbidden memories come flooding back. A formidable tidal wave, a whirling rapid, of bright lights and experiences and conversations that had been torn from him and shredded in the writer’s room of their long gone creators.

He knew you, he’d always known you; the child too old for their youth that visited their neighbourhood in the beginning. Who always wore a beaming smile and treated them all with a grace beyond their years, spreading kindness and joy to his friends and to the audience only the two of you knew about. Who was far taller than his measly 12 apples of verticality but who never made him feel small. Who spoke eagerly of the constellations and painted the most wonderful pictures of stars and moons and planets far beyond their reach that he did his best to capture in his paintings. Who was only 14 but felt more like an adult than he did sometimes — he, who was crafted and sewn without a childhood — but who wasn’t above play and foley.

The child who was the absolute most; his favourite transient neighbour. All of their’s, actually.

How could he possibly have forgotten you?

You with your broad toothy grins, and your warm eyes that shone brighter than the stars you loved, and your arms that were big enough to carry even more apples than he could have ever dreamed of. You, who he promised to protect and keep away from the horrors of the world, theirs and your own. You, who never turned down a favour or plea from his neighbours.

You. Just you.

Wonderful, lovable, unforgettable you. His child of flesh, not felt, but he loved you all the same.

And he didn’t get to see you grow up, because his creators deemed you unbefitting of their world and cut you from their memories as ruthlessly as they’d cut your segments from their show. Welcome Home didn’t feel very much like a home after that — even if they didn’t quite recall what was missing.

Wally didn’t even want to think about all of the horrors and harms you’d faced throughout the years you’d been apart — he could see the wear hanging heavily in the downwards quirk of your lips and the dampened glint in your eye. He knew he’d sooner kill someone than let them hurt you, he’d threatened it plenty alongside Howdy and Eddie and Frank — they all loved you as dearly as him, once.

But in his current predicament he couldn’t do much to protect you. Couldn’t coddle you, couldn’t warm you, couldn’t sooth you with those sweets you used to love (if you even loved them anymore, it had clearly been quite some time), couldn’t do anything to help. He couldn’t even communicate with you, to apologise, to tell you he still loved you and that you were still welcome in their neighbourhood.

So he did the only thing he could; he drew you a picture. A silly little simplistic drawing, scratchy and crude, depicting a strong memory he had of you. The two of you, hand in hand, with your arms overflowing with apples you’d managed to steal from Howdy (oh how he missed such trivial things) — he hoped you remembered these moments as fondly as he did. Then, to the illustration, he attached a small message, a plea just for you, before settling back down behind the screen and hoping — praying — that you’d come back.

‘I’m sorry for forgetting you, friend, please come home’

[van-yangyin]

Riku's outfit, hairstyle and extras - Kingdom Hearts 3 (Male frame - Hairstyle for all ages)

ソラ 俺は信じてる おまえはあきらめない ～ Sora, I believe in you. Never give up.

Sul sul, today on Pride Month I present to you Riku's KH3 outfit, hairstyle for all ages, plus a few extras. (Yeah, he's one of my favorite character ever, but this is information than doesn't matter here). Images are in daylight so that everything can be seen clearly.

【Everything shared below, has been tested by @lea-heartscxiv and me in Ultra quality (non HQ) following our needs, if you find any problem let me or him know.】

☆BECOME A PATREON OR BECOME A MEMBERSHIP ON KO-FI TO GET SOME EXTRAS OR TIP ME ON KO-FI☆ 🌸Do you want to commission me?🌸 Click here or here to know all information you need and what to do.

In case you want a specific Kingdom Hearts character or any other look already, feel free to commission me, if you don't mind when they come out, I'll go at my own pace bringing out all the characters little by little. Also on Patreon and Ko-Fi I share photo WIPs of KH future releases and what would contain among other things as a bonus for your support, in case you're interested.

Download under keep reading ↓ 

Please read my T.O.U (English/Español/日本語) before download and if you’re agree go ahead, thanks

General Info:

full body clothes for Male Frame (1 swatch)

gloves for Male and Female Frame (1 swatch) 【right and left wristbands disabled and nails enabled】

boots for Male Frame (1 swatch)

hairstyle two texture versions (24 EA Swatches + Sora swatch, all ages/all genders-agenders, Children, Toddler and Infant included, if you want only 15EAS Swatches for them, let me know)

all LOD’s

Way to the Dawn, broken Way to the Dawn and Breaveheart for Poses [Teen to Elders] 【2 versions for poses, plus one object version】

normal and specular maps included

custom thumbnail

HQ compatible

Compatible with higher and lower sliders

Opposite Gender and Opposite Frame compatible*

There are small bugs on full body clothing with buttons and zippers with a little deformity and boots don't work well with some clothing bottom

*It can be dressed by Opposite Gender but speacially clothing has several bugs, such as deformed zippers or deformed buttons, in order to appear in your sims of Opposite Gender, Masculine Fashion Choice filter must be set. It’s also open for Opposite Frame. But if you only want Male Gender to wear it, you can change it from Sims 4 Studio program, following this steps.

~Riku’s KH3 outfit~

Outfit Info:

full body clothes

gloves

boots

all LOD’s

normal and specular maps included

custom thumbnail

HQ compatible

Compatible with higher and lower sliders

Opposite Gender and Opposite Frame compatible*↑

There are small bugs on full body clothing with buttons and zippers with a little deformity and boots don't work well with some clothing bottom

LODs Info: Full Body Clothes: LOD0: 22056 poly | LOD1: 11170 poly | LOD2: 8432 poly | LOD3: 4207 poly Gloves: LOD0: 4014 poly Boots: LOD0: 7792 poly | LOD1: 5140 poly | LOD2: 2570 poly | LOD3: 777 poly

~❤️DOWNLOAD LINKS❤️~

❤️PATREON or SFS❤️ (Always free, no adf|y)

Preview in CAS:

Preview with lower slider and higher slider:

~❤️~

~Riku’s KH3 Hairstyle~

Hair Info:

24 EA Swatches + Riku Swatch 【Children, Toddler and Infant included, if you want only 15EAS Swatches from them, let me know】

two texture version, Sims version texture hair and KH version texture hair following texture from CGI version

Base game compatible 

Hat compatible 

all LODs

HQ compatible

All genders and agender  

All ages 

Hair mesh from game assets

Sims Version: Texture hair made by me and matching with all my other hairs | KH Version: Texture hair made by me with assets from KH game following CGI texture hair version, matching with sims hair swatches, choose download version you want the most or all versions

Sims Version is compatible with Split Hair color (Patreon)/Split Hair color (SFS) and all future hair color accessories I'm currently doing

Custom Thumbnails

LOD Information: LOD0: 16212 poly | LOD1: 8094 poly | LOD2: 4031 poly | LOD3: 2015 poly

~❤️DOWNLOAD LINKS❤️~

KH Version:❤️PATREON or SFS❤️ (Always free, no adf|y)

Sims Version:❤️PATREON or SFS❤️ (Always free, no adf|y)

~❤️~

Clutter + Optional Download: Special for those who want to do poses with his keyblades and if want share it for everyone

~Riku’s KH3 keyblades for poses~

Please read to know more: I don't know how to make neutral poses for all types of sims as I' a'm a perfectionist person and I always like pose to go perfect on sim I make no matter what type of body have, so I prefer to make them only for family use but share the accessories I use so that whoever wants and knows how to make them more neutral can make them to share with everyone or for their personal use with a faster access by having the accessories made. Feel free to tag me if you're going to post them for everyone, so I can share on my pages and use them too! But please if you make poses behind a paywall, put download link to my page, never put to download MY CC behind a paywall, ear|y access, nor adf|y.

Way to the Dawn, Broken Way to the Dawn and Braveheart Accessories for poses and Broken Way to the Dawn clutter for ground.

accessories has b__R_Stigmata for ease pose.

accessories are located in middle ring of right hand, it's also compatible with my Riku's outfit 【Textures don't overlap】

Hand accessory only tagged on Party Outfit Type

Broken Way to the Dawn is located on Sculpture, Decorative. 【English Name: Replica of broken Way to the Dawn | Spanish Name: Réplica de Camino al Amanecer rota】 Contain a description in English and Spanish, personalized by me and Lea (@lea_heartscxiv)

all LOD's

normal and specular maps included

custom thumbnail

HQ compatible

LODs Info: Way to the Dawn Accessory: LOD0: 10570 poly | LOD1: 5282 poly | LOD2: 2640 poly | LOD3: 1320 poly Broken Way to the Dawn Accessory: LOD0: 10174 poly | LOD1: 5084 poly | LOD2: 2542 poly | LOD3: 1271 poly Braveheart Accessory: LOD0: 7686 poly | LOD1: 3842 poly | LOD2: 1920 poly | LOD3: 960 poly Broken Way to the Dawn Object: LOD0: 10174 poly | LOD1: k

~❤️DOWNLOAD LINKS❤️~

❤️PATREON or SFS❤️ (Always free, no adf|y)

Way to the Dawn broken Object:

~❤️~

And if you are interested:

Sora for Male frame that you can find here. (WARNING: DO NOT SEPARATE FROM RIKU 👀)

~❤️~

Let me know if you find any problem. 🙏❣️

By the way, would you like me to share official Kingdom Hearts eyes recolors in Cartoon and CGI style as I do with Genshin Impact ones? 🤔 I read you on comments or asks! (At any of my social medias)

👀👉MORE DOWNLOADS

Happy simming! 🍀

💛

🛹 You can find me also on Patreon | Pinterest | Ko-Fi | Blogger (Shared with Lea) | Instagram | X (Twitter) | My F.A.Q. | My T.O.U. | MORE DOWNLOADS 🛹

[thehmn]

They showed one of my favorite “bad movies that I know are bad but enjoy anyway” a few nights ago, Ronal The Barbarian.

I thought it would be funny to draw a serious looking poster because I’ve learned over the years that if you just describe the characters, plot and overarching theme it sounds like a really cool, serious fantasy story that was crammed through an immature jokes machine.

The overarching theme is “gender roles are bullshit”. Ronal’s whole thing is rejecting stereotypical masculinity.

Zandra is a take on society expecting women to be strong, independent bossassbitches but also expecting them to be subservient to their husbands and how many women internalize that.

Aliban thinks he’s a loser if he doesn’t get laid and even believes men can’t be sexually assaulted by women because men always want sex…until he’s assaulted himself.

The very effeminate gay elf Elric is strongly implied to be a top, while the very masculine general is the most overtly sexualized character and clearly in a kinky Dom/sub arrangement with his master Lord Volcazar while also acting as a Dom to the orc army.

Inside the elf library male elves are protected by an army of female warrior fairies.

The hyper masculine Barbarians and hyper feminine Amazonians are held up as ridiculous gender extremes.

The movie is also chock full of “show don’t tell” lore. For example, how many people noticed the evil priest is an elf? His pointy ears rotted away along with his nose and cheeks but he’s wearing elf clothes.

But anyway, I already made a post (LINK) about how the English dub throws all that out the window by making the characters sexist, homophobic and just generally mean for no reason.

[yanderes-galore]

Can you do Yandere!Spider!Trio headcanons from LMK, please?

Sure. I focused on them by themselves if that was fine? I hope I understood who you meant in this....

Yandere! Spider Demon Trio Short HCs

(Huntsman, Strong Spider, Syntax)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Sadism, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Kidnapping, Huntsman has a thing for scents, Violence, Trackers, Cameras, Biting, Drugging briefly mentioned, Mentions of 'mate', Forced relationship implied.

Huntsman

Huntsman, true to his name, loves to hunt people.

He's known to have a short fuse on his temper and is only really submissive to those in power.

He's known to be reckless and loves to fight.

He doesn't think much about consequences and often yearns for the hunt.

Based on this I can see Huntsman as a sadistic yandere who enjoys chasing his obsession around.

He loves the chase and is definitely one to stalk and hunt down his obsession.

I also feel he's the most competitive of the three Spider-Demon Underlings.

He's volatile yet also oddly cunning when it comes to finding his prey.

Huntsman would view his obsession as his own personal prey and toys with them before he takes them in.

He wants to chase you, tire you out, then trap you in a lovely web to hold you.

While loyal to the Spider Queen, Huntsman loves you in his own twisted way.

He's the one who doesn't mind if his obsession escapes, only because he finds it fun and knows he'll get them back.

Huntsman tracks you by scent, which makes me wonder if he'd love his obsession's scent on objects or clothes....

He's like a bloodhound when it comes to tracking, always taunting as he follows clues.

Like many Spider Generation, He's agile and capable of Web Manipulation.

You can only run for so long before he finds you...

Eventually you'll slip up, Huntsman is smart enough to take advantage of that.

The second you drop your guard... he'll catch you in a web.

Huntsman takes pride in catching his prey.

It's a trait he hopes his Queen sees as admirable.

While it's easy for him to lose his temper... Huntsman always enjoys the chase.

He doesn't mind your escape attempts at first as they make a nice little game for him.

Huntsman feels intoxicated by your scent and loves when he catches you.

He's taunting you the entire time he drags you back into base, musing about how you entertain him.

To most people, Huntsman is a cunning Spider Demon who plays hunter well.

Yet in the rare chance his obsession is capable of overpowering him...

Huntsman also plays henchman well.

While mostly a dominant yandere, there's a rare chance his obsession can trigger him to be submissive if they have enough power.

After that I can see him being a worship yandere and less sadistic.

By that point he just wants to please.

Overall, Huntsman is the one most likely to stalk and hunt down his obsession all while enjoying your escape attempts.

To him this is all a game...

By the end of it, he gets a little treat too.

Strong Spider/Goliath

Strong Spider, or Goliath as some fans call him, certainly is less cunning or tactical than the other two.

There's also less known about him personality-wise from what I could find.

He's clearly to be Spider Queen's brawn, acting as the muscles of the group.

Which means, when it comes to his obsession, he doesn't bother with much tactical genius.

He prefers just using his strength to chase you into his arms.

Sure, a yandere who can manipulate you into their claws or hunt you down endlessly is terrifying...

But there's something about being chased by a hulking being that feels so much... worse?

There's no lies or subtle threats.

There's no need to use a web to trap you either.

Goliath holds no secrets.

You know exactly what you're getting into.

That, when it comes to Goliath, might just be worse than the others.

There's no sneaking and it's probably worse if he also has a good scent like Huntsman.

He's not a foe you can easily overpower unlike the others.

With Huntsman and Syntax, you could probably find a way to overpower and get the upper hand.

With Goliath, you can't.

Maybe you could outsmart him... but it's hard to take risks around him.

Once he feels he wants you... He's going to find you.

Once he has you, he'll cage you against his large body, then drag you back to the Silken Web Cave to trap you.

There's not anything fancy about his way of doing things.

There doesn't need to be.

Goliath is a simple demon.

He sees you, he finds you, he takes you...

Then after that he'll love you.

He's less sadistic than his fellow Spiders, yet does enjoy the size difference.

You're so small compared to him... so cute...

He's going to enjoy having you all to himself...

Like a little toy or small prey for him to hold.

Syntax

Syntax, ironically since they're competitive with each other, is similar to Huntsman.

Syntax isn't much of a hunter, though.

In fact, he's a coward when it comes to fighting strong foes.

Despite this, he's smart and tactical when it comes to inventions.

He stalks in a similar way to how Huntsman does.

Except Syntax tends to rely on his technology.

Syntax is sadistic and arrogant, often looking down on those around him.

He, unlike Huntsman, actually doesn't like hunting down his obsession much.

He'll track them, hunt them down, then trap them away.

He prevents escape attempts through his technology and loves to outsmart his obsession.

Due to his intelligence and skills with tech, he has ways of always knowing where his obsession is.

He's got small portable cameras, trackers, security systems....

He doesn't even need to do much if he has tiny Spider Cameras watching your every move.

Syntax likes to plan things out unlike his fellow Spiders.

He's a perfectionist who also likes to please.

He won't act on his obsession until he knows his plan is perfect.

He doesn't take well to failure.

Syntax religiously watches the cameras he has of you.

He always has monitors open as he tinkers with a new prototype, grinning softly as he sees you live your life.

He records nearly everything and tucks it away in encrypted file folders.

He watches the material he's gained like an addiction.

For a long time, this will be enough for him.

Although, the entire time Syntax plans everything.

The others are Impulsive, simply dragging you back without a plan.

Syntax has a plan... He has many, actually.

He studies your behavior enough to predict you, to read you like a book.

He prepares a room for you, he makes sure it has security...

Only when he knows he's ready does he hunt you.

Even then, it isn't much of a hunt.

Syntax is smart enough to come after you when he knows it will succeed... When you're sleeping.

By the time you wake up, he'll have you locked away for his own enjoyment.

He's been planning for this...

It's all perfect.

Even if you run, Syntax embeds a tracker in your skin.

That way there's no hiding from him.

Syntax, unlike the others, prides himself in planning...

He knows that patience is rewarded... Once everything's perfect...

He'll have you right where he wants you.

Extra Thoughts For All Three

All three of them like to bite and are possessive.

The idea of marking you is a primal thought they enjoy.

All three of them use webs to restrain you.

Spider Queen's venom is capable of making other creatures a Spider Demon, however, I feel these three can't do that.

In fact, I HC they can only drug you, not convert you.

Speaking of Spider Queen, I can see these three asking for you to be converted so they can keep you.

All three of them are manipulative in one way or another. Most of the time it involves threats.

Would these three share their obsession...? Probably not....

They're all possessive to varying degrees and are not fond of sharing "mates".

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

Pacifica Northwest is transmasc and you can't change my mind

Okay. That sounds insane. I am aware. It sounds insane to me. But fuck it - I already did the trans Dipper rant essay and so I'll do the same with trans Pacifica.

So Pacifica grows up rich with very oppressive parents. She's clearly a child of abuse who likely has no sense of identity. She's forced to fit a strict mold of The Perfect Daughter. Someone who is perfect and demure and pristine and womanly and who has to wear the right color dress and can't just wear something close enough because otherwise she gets something implied to be very bad.

Put another way: A kid is forced to be exactly perfect and the definition of whatever their gender is. They are not allowed to deviate from that definition in the least otherwise Bad Things happen. They're scared to even be slightly different.

Sound familiar? Because a lot of trans kids go through the same thing. A lot of trans femme people have to play with the Boy Toys because otherwise they're a flower boy and that's bad (which in itself is bad because flower boy is old slang for gay/derogatory as well as gender expression and identity being different but it also hurts trans people). A lot of transmasc people have to play dress up because if they don't there's Something Wrong with them.

I am more than 90% certain that it wasn't intentional, but looking at Pacifica through the lens of someone who tried to do a Boy Thing once and was forced to be hyperfemme for the rest of their life is just so good to me.

Pacifica embodies a lot of toxic girl tropes. You've heard of toxic masculinity, now get ready for toxic femininity - she's petty and superficial and puts too much stock in appearances. Which, granted, is a thing that happens in girl friend groups - I've seen it happen many times - but it reads as different to me. This isn't malice, Pacifica has been shown to be a good person (The Golf War, Northwest Mansion Mystery). She cares for those around her and often only acts the way she does because she has to. Any time she tries to speak up, she gets ruthlessly shut down. She has to be what her parents want, when they want, how they want. If she doesn't, she gets punished.

Yes, Pacifica shows up to every event dressed femme. But who drove her to those events? Who has their claws in every aspect of the town? Who would hear about anything that happens in Gravity Falls? Who buys her clothes? Her parents. And if her parents - who, again, are likely abusive - want her to be and dress like their perfect little girl, their hyperfemme daughter, then she will. She has to be.

From a writing perspective, Pacifica is made to be the opposite of Mabel. One loves fun and color and chaos, is nice no matter what. The other is sitting outside this room and named Pacifica Northwest. But looking at it like that, why wouldn't Pacifica be trans? Especially if Mabel is transfemme - which is a fun reading of her and one that I love to see. It's not canon but think about it. If Mabel is transfemme then Pacifica - her inverse - would be transmasc. The other end of the spectrum.

But now I need real evidence, right? My transmasc Dipper essay was built on much more than "this is behavior seen in a lot of trans people just generally". I pointed out specific scenes in specific episodes - though I forgot Carpet Diem, which is fascinating and which I could so make an essay on by itself. Can I do that for Pacifica?

Well, the short answer is no. The best evidence I have is a general hand-wave at her behavior and environment and "this just reads as transmasc to me". Which, to be completely fair, is how headcanons work. They don't necessarily need any degree of proof. It's nice and it can help people to agree with you, but in the end, it doesn't matter. I can say I headcanon anything, and because it's a headcanon, you can't do shit about it. If I say Pacifica is transmasc beyond a shadow of a doubt, then you can challenge me.

To be fair, I did say that. The title of this is literally "Pacifica is transmasc and you can't change my mind", I will take that I was making claims. But also I immediately followed that up with "it sounds insane to me" so I should hope we all know that I'm going into headcanons-based-on-the-text territory.

And I'm never going to attack someone over a headcanon that makes someone feel seen, and I'd hope that holds true for everyone. I like Pacifica as transmasc and forcing herself into the box of cis female when it's wrong because I did the same. I love transmasc Pacifica. I love the idea of Pacifica and Dipper hanging out and him telling her that he's trans and Pacifica just kinda goes "you can do that? But then why doesn't everyone? Being a girl kinda sucks - there's girl drama and dresses and girl puberty and all that stuff. Everyone would be a guy if they could" and Dipper gives her The Look and says "Pacifica Northwest, that is the most trans thing I have ever heard".

In conclusion, I headcanon trans masculine Pacifica Northwest. Still workshopping a chosen name for him but I do, and I love him. It's all silly fun headcanoning a children's cartoon character as trans and it hurts no one. And it doesn't even affect a lot of the things I'll do. I have one fic that will hint at it and one that will treat it as the main center of the story planned. (It will be a part of my AU but not a major part and I'm also playing with the thought of gender-fluid Pacifica for Divine Falls. It's entirely ignorable and will not affect anything related to the main AU's plot.)

Yes I referred to Pacifica as she/her for most of this essay but it was referring to a pre-realization Pacifica who isn't out yet and thus would convince herself that she was uncomfortable with he/him pronouns and therefore calling them he/him would be wrong until he came out.

[justshapesandshitposting]

New Tweaked Designs for the Bosses, as well as some up-to-date headcanons for them! it's a bit long so it's going to be under a readmore-

Fresh

His voice is actually high pitched (like the vocals in the actual song) he doesn’t see any issue with it, but if someone starts giving him shit about it he will get annoyed and start getting hostile

Borderline blind, has to actively focus in order to see things clearly, so he mostly relies on his energysense to get around for the most part. 

He actually likes kids, despite his grumpy demeanor, and he’s pretty good with them too, one of the best folks to leave your kids with if you don’t mind the trek to get to his den in the caves

Actually leans more on the feminine side for other centipede shapes, since he's larger than most (this tends to be a trend with arthropod shapes, larger individuals leaning more towards the female side of the shape gender spectrum) 

Semi-transparent midsection with less plating than normal for centipedes, allowing you to see some of his bones (you can’t see his spine, or any of his organs, since they’re deeper in, though sometimes if his stomach or crop is really full, or if there’s something glowing brightly enough in there you might be able to somewhat see it through his skin, it’s more reliably seen with his crop though-)

Territorial towards places and people that he likes, you can tell if he likes you even if he doesn't tell you since he'd start getting lowkey territorial in regards to you

as close to cold-blooded as a shape can get, but it's offset by his general chunkiness and the fact that he dresses warmly

Collar is a comfort item that he almost always wears (also the spikes on them are made with carved treeangle wood, normally they absorb the excess beat-energy he produces, the corruption however overwhelmed them)

if he gets too cold he can go into torpor, sometimes quite suddenly (longest time he's been in torpor has been a month)

has a instinctual behavior pattern of eating more and starting to bulk up during colder months/seasons, even if he doesn't go into torpor during the season. (sometimes he can get pretty mindless with it. Try to avoid being around him if you happen to be small and roughly food-shaped.)

Surprisingly soft, good to cuddle with (as long as you ignore the scattered small plates along his back) don’t expect him to start cuddling unless he likes you though, he’s more likely to straight up eat or maul you, especially if it’s sudden and you startle him.  

Likes to dig and burrow, if you can’t find him, just start looking for the big holes in the damp dirt.

He eats rocks and dirt sometimes, no real reason for it, he just wants to-

Rarely washes his clothes, washes his modified boots even less. 

He normally keeps his mandibles tucked into his mouth, but if he wants to paralyze someone with his venom or just eating they tend to pop out. (if you get on his nerves enough he can and will bite with intent to paralyze and leave you there) 

If he’s feeling strongly about something he starts growing spikes and more plates along his body. 

Those ‘spikes’ along his tail are actually tiny centipede legs, they don’t really get used except as a pouchlet or in his shape form, but they’re there.

He actually knows how to make clothes, kinda had to in order to modify his own to fit his needs better. (most of his clothes are made of denim to last longer)

Lycan

Thrives off of chaos and like the goose from untitled goose game, they will cause problems*… on purpose (*minor problems, more mischievous rather than actual problems)

Grows ‘petals’ (they feel closer to feathers) during spring and winter, after that they tend to shed, leaving them with only their short fur

They are a carrier of the shape version of the vitiligo gene, which while meaning that they aren’t actively vitiligo, if certain conditions are met, the gene can get triggered and cause their colors to start to change, a condition/coloration that’s often referred to as ‘False Vitiligo’ (true vitiligo turns the shape white, gray, or black) in their case, their corruption triggered the gene, and after getting purified their fur and petals gradually started turning magenta. 

They’re one of the few shapes that Bitis actually tolerates/likes, since they know when to shut up and calm down when needed. Plus they’re warm, and willing to act as a living heater for them.

Very loyal to their ‘pack’ which is mainly Fresh, Bitis and themself, though they have a few others that they consider as ‘pack’

Has a tendency of burying things, and also likes to dig, just to make holes

High energy, social, and a ball of furry chaos in general, prone to affectionate biting and scratching as well, not enough to break the skin, but still-

They do like being pet, and will invade people’s personal space, but tends to be leery and wary of people they don’t know petting them

Their sense of smell and hearing is really good, and can often be driven crazy by things like dog whistles and can hear and smell things that some others can’t

They can in fact howl, and sometimes they have the instinct to howl back when they hear it, it’s a impulse thing and they can resist it sometimes, but if they get caught off guard they will howl if they hear another howl

Will affectionately bully the folks that they like, but will cut it out if they upset them or if they’re not in the mood.

Bitis

Their corruption essentially swapped their purple/magenta colors when it came to their markings

An ‘ew people’ type of introvert who only tolerates a few shapes, everyone else can fuck off in their opinion

They’re a sea snake, so they do spend a good deal of time swimming and hunting fish to eat. 

VERY venomous, and fatally so if too much gets put in, which is why they tend to keep their mouth sealed unless they’re actively using it. 

Their venom is paralytic, and they mostly use it to hunt

However the instinct to bite something that startles them is still there, which tend to mean that if you startle them you are going to get headbutted, which is going to hurt both of you-

As close to cold-blooded as a shape can get, however, they can’t go into torpor to hibernate through the colder moths like fresh can, so they just stick to the volcano and bundle up in their ‘sweater’ for the most part. They don’t tend to leave the volcano at all during the colder months. 

Shorter lengthwise than most serpent/snake shapes, but they’re built more powerfully and thicker as a compromise. Makes them actually pretty fast in the water, if somewhat less agile and harder to fit into crevices. 

While it is possible to create a anti-venom for their venom, that involves having to interact with other shapes, and Bitis would rather not have to subject themself to being forced to interact with other shapes if they can avoid it. 

Scales are smooth, to the point that it’s hard to find where one ends and another begins. 

Keeps their hair braided, keeps it out of the way and in one place, since it constantly looks wet/greasy and is slightly heavier than the average. (the braid is what’s causing it to puff up into that hood shape around their head, nobody knows why and Bitis doesn’t care to figure it out) 

Aro/Ace and gets annoyed/disgusted if people start talking about things like relationships or sex in front of them. You will get forced out one way or another. 

Their serpent attacks are structures, and they do in fact have a few pet snakes as well, that are well taken care of. 

Prone to stress-shedding random scales, which can be good when pressed underwater by something dangerous, distract the thing with sudden swarm of shiny scales, but it leaves that area without scales until they shed. 

They can and WILL pop out their fangs and start threatening if someone starts getting on their nerves enough, and if they don‘t get the message they’ll do a ‘dry bite’ that normally gets other shapes to fuck off- 

There’s no proof but there was slight increase in drownings when they first arrived, though honestly, Bitis straight up told people that they’re venomous, that it’s paralytic and that they want to get left the fuck alone unless they like you when they first arrived, so if you go swimming/flee into the water after getting bitten by them it’s kinda on you? (def still manslaughter/shapeslaughter though)

Widow

Prefers to live off of the land in the caves, there’s plenty enough big bugs and other animals that they can feed off of, so she really only tends to go into town for supplies she can’t find or make in the wilderness

Makes her own silk cloth with her own thread/silk and makes clothing and other cloth things like bags. 

Gets along pretty well with Fresh, and will ask him to babysit occationally while she does something. 

Def a milf, and can be quite flirty, though understands if people are a bit anxious about her, it’s only natural. (Arthropod shapes do have a tendacy to have… slightly cannibalistic urges, especially ones that are female/more on the female side of the spectrum, and DEFINATELY while gravid, even if the eggs aren’t fertile/fertilized)

Pretty chill and laid back. she knows that she’s one of the largest shapes on paradise and that most things can’t threaten her, so she’s pretty laid back

Do NOT threaten her kids though, she can go from 0 to 100 on a pin drop if her kids are involved. 

Speaking of her kids, she has a decent amount of them, not a large amount (at least for arthropod shapes) but a decent amount, roughly around 8 of them currently, and a good few others which are fully grown now.

Currently single, and yeah she’s open, though generally isn’t fond of marriage, she’s not against the concept, but she likes having multiple partners that she can dote on

She’s very doting and affectionate with her partners and her kids, can and will pick people up and carry them around. 

Her voice is chirpy and relatively high pitched, and sounds like it belongs to something far smaller than her. 

Will affectionately nibble on folks that they like as long as they’re comfortable with it (no mandibles though since that’s where the venom’s kept)

Her venom is a flesh-melter (she does have anti-venom on her so if she accidentally envenoms someone it’s dealt with quickly) which helps her feed her kids (most pouchlets can only eat fluids or soft foods at first, and spider shapes can have some difficulties eating solid food sometimes)

Morbid

Yeah, they’re a bit bonkers because of their isolation in the tree/level void:™: and are desperate for company, food, and touch- (they need a good amount of therapy) 

However their unstable mental state and their starvation often results in… well… bad outcomes for most who come into contact with them in the level void- 

Fossilized is really the best way i can describe what’s happening to their beat-energy- since their beat-energy is still the same but it’s gradually getting well… replaced or petrified by the ambient energy of the tree void- 

if they were to die in the tree void:™: their energy would still stick around it would just… decay or regress into something that’s more similar to the levels (yes that’s my headcanon about the tutorial levels, the tree’s gotta eat too-) until eventually fading away into the background

However, since they’re a spirit and elemental hybrid, they can feed off of things that other shapes can’t, specifically since they’re a fire elemental, they can feed off of anything that’s flammable, things like clothes for example (which is why they don’t have any clothes) and spirit shapes can essentially parasitize off of other sources of energy, and in their case, they’re feeding off of the energy in the level void itself. It’s not the best, and they are still very much starving, but it’s enough to keep them alive. 

Due to their isolation and general insanity, they don’t really remember anything about themselves from before their entrapment there, they can only get glimpses or blurred sensations occasionally, though once they’re freed they do start to remember a bit more

Their mind is actively suppressing their memories to avoid trauma (they were very attached to the rest of their group, which well… aren’t alive anymore- save for antimony’s ‘familiar’ which is prolly the only thing keeping them sane… or as sane as they can be after their release, and tree help you if you are a threat to their only remaining link to their friends their companion)

Pyromaniac (they had this condition before, but being trapped there made it worse and caused them to start trying to set everything on fire just so there’s something else apart from the darkness there) it gets somewhat better after their release but they still have urges to set everything on fire- 

VERY touch starved, but wear something flame-resistant or fire-proof because they WILL become VERY hot temperature-wise VERY quickly

Oh yeah since they’re a fire elemental they can control their body temperature, but it normally runs hot enough to burn people without protection (at least internally) and it tends to be a bit wonky due to their mental state as well, sudden highs and lows along with their mood and current state of mind. If they focus they can control it somewhat, but they have to re-learn how to do it, since it’s so unpredictable now. 

They can phase through objects and walls since they’re a spirit hybrid, but anything that they have on them that isn’t made with their own beat-energy will get stuck on surfaces unless they actively surround it with their own energy and sorta ‘falsify’ it being part of them

This does mean that they can sometimes get stuck in walls after eating or drinking something. 

They are VERY clingy and a bit obsessive towards those who they enjoy the presence of-