#also in comparison to the people he always hangs around he's so. small.

[pyrriax]

im going to tear this apart into shreds

[indulgentdaydream]

I added these two together. I hope you guys don’t mind! Since I added them together I’m also making this a two parter. My first one ever!!

Comparisons Pt.1

Jason Todd x Jealous!Insecure!Fem!Reader || Angst/Fluff || Word Count: 2,488

Part 2

Warnings: not proofread as of yet. Maybe will after i post who knows

After a six hour morning shift as a dishwasher, you were ready to head home.

It was the early afternoon, your shift having ended at 12. It was sunny. Warm, but not too hot. You were still in your work clothes, simple black pants and a black t shirt, your tote bag full of belongings over your shoulder. It was nice weather for the half hour walk you had back to your apartment. Better than the weather you’ve faired before.

Jason usually picked you up after your shifts, no matter where he was, as long as he wasn’t on patrol. He never wanted you to be seen in public near the Red Hood. He didn’t want you as a target.

“It’s bad enough I come straight here after patrol some nights.” He had said once.

“I’m just that irresistible, eh?” You had smiled.

He laughed, kissing your shoulder, “Damn right, baby.”

This day, though, you knew he was busy with a certain case he was working on. One he wouldn’t tell you about. He had been hard at work on it for the last few weeks, barely able to make much time for you. You didn’t mind. He tried as much as he could, even if it ended up being a five minute phone call, or a visit in the middle of night in between beaten-up thugs.

The sun hits your face and warms your skin in a comfortable way. Your headphones blocked out the Gotham noise, making the moment more enjoyable. Your favourite music instead of honking horns, sounds of engines, distant sirens, and people yelling.

You were stuck in your own world. You began thinking of asking Jason if he wanted to take you for a ride on his bike later. If he was free. You knew it’d be hard for him to say no. He loved taking you for rides. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know that.

You turn a corner, stuck in your head. Thinking about what you were going to do when you got home. You weren’t used to the morning shift.

You start your walk down the road, passing busy storefronts. Crystal shops. Pet stores. Mostly cafés and diners. You briefly considered working as a dishwasher at one of these places instead so you didn’t have to walk as far.

Maybe you and Jason could go to a diner tonight? That was a hopeful thought. There wouldn’t be time.

You’re walking past the third outdoor seating that takes up most of the sidewalk, small bistro tables hidden from the sun by large, white, beach-style umbrellas. Nearly identical to the two others you had passed, only different colour schemes.

You stare straight ahead, the extended seating narrowing the sidewalk and making it harder for people to walk around. You’re nearly halfway past the café when a hand reaches over breaching the shaded area and entering the sunlight to gently grasp onto your wrist.

You’re already twisting, ready to pull the mace Jason had bought you (though you more-so believe stolen from Batman himself, as you could see where he had scratched out the bat symbol on the canister) out of your tote bag and aim, when your eyes land on the owner of the arm, stretched across the thin barrier separating the seating from the sidewalk.

It’s Jason. His face hidden behind sunglasses, a small frown on his lips as he looks up at you from the shade. He waits for you to slip off your headphones before speaking.

“I was waving to you,” his thumb absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand. “You didn’t see?”

“Sorry,” You smile in relief at him, stepping closer to the barricade so as not to impede the flow of foot traffic. “I was more focused on getting around.”

There was someone sitting across from him. You didn’t think much of it at first. You saw red hair. That was regular with Jason, since he was always hanging around with Roy. Or Kory.

That’s who you thought it was. Roy. Nothing different at all. You turned to greet him, a smile ready on your face.

The second you clocked the pretty face, the waist-long, flowing, shiny red hair, your smile faltered.

Artemis gave you a sincere, friendly smile, her fingers swirling her straw in her cup.

Something churned in your stomach, “Hello.”

Jason’s grip on your wrist tightened slightly once, speaking up, “Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?”

You look back to him, “You said you were busy today.”

He frowns again. Technically, he had never said that. But it was true.

“Sit with us,” Artemis said, pointing behind her. “The entrance is there. We’re almost done anyways. Jason can drive you the rest of the way.”

You nodded, sending the best smile back to Artemis that you could muster in the moment.

As you approached, Jason reached towards the empty table behind him, flipping the chair and placing it at their own table, in between him and Artemis, facing where you had just been standing.

Something in the back of your mind noted how he didn’t even stand to do it, his face still pointed towards Artemis, his eyes concealed by his shades, hiding his expression. You sit down, placing your tote bag on the ground beside on, on your right, between you and Jason.

He picked it up and moved it onto the table without a word.

“This is my girlfriend,” Jason introduces you, his hands back on the table, folded in front of him. “This is Artemis. She’s helping me with my case.”

You nod, your mouth suddenly dry as she smiles at you again, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she smiles again, stretching out plump lips to present straight, shiny teeth.

Jason’s quick goes back to talking with her about whatever they had been talking about before you had walked past, wrapping things up.

You weren’t even capable of listening at this point.

You trusted Jason. You’d always trust Jason. This was for the case and nothing more. You knew that.

Jason had never really spoke about Artemis before. He had mentioned her once, in the early months of your relationship. You had done something. He had later asked you not to, saying he had a bad memory of it from his ex. He had never even mentioned her name. You knew he didn’t like talking about her.

However, you had been out with Jason and Roy at a bar once. Roy had briefly mentioned Jason’s ex, since she was included in the story. Jason had changed the topic fast after that. Then when he’d gotten up to use to washroom, you’d asked Roy to tell you more about her.

“Just what she looks like,” You reasoned. “So I can recognize her if need be.”

Roy hesitated in telling you, but he still did.

You trusted Jason. However, you were losing trust in Roy. He had never mentioned how gorgeous this woman is.

Her skin was smooth. Not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help it. Her hair was perfect. Her skin flawless. On further inspection you even realized she wasn’t wearing any makeup.

She wasn’t wearing any makeup and she looked that good?

Artemis lifted her coffee cup to her lips, nodding to something Jason was saying. Nothing you understood, anyways. Even if you were listening. You caught sight of her flexed arm as she finished off the drink. She was strong. Probably worked out nearly as much as Jason, but far more slim than he was. But in a good way.

She smiled again, wide, displaying her pearly whites. You ran a tongue over your own teeth, pursing your lips quietly in thought. Yours weren’t anywhere near that.

Your arms suddenly felt itchy as you looked over Artemis’ again. You looked down. You needed to take your eyes off of her. You were being stupid. Jason had broken up with her. Jason had picked you. He had been dating you for nearly a year and a half.

Your eyes drifted to your own arms, spots of acne along biceps. No definition in sight. Your under eye bags suddenly felt like they were on broadcast. Your face felt gritty, your hand coming up to absentmindedly scratch at the break out you had along your cheek. The frizz of your own hair visible in the corner of your eyes.

You looked back up, looking out at the busy street. Jason had chosen you. Jason loved you. Jason kissed you everyday and always made sure to tell you how much he loved you.

Except in the past few weeks while he had been busy with this case.

Had he been working with her this whole time?

You glanced back down as Jason placed his hand on your knee. He always did this when you guys were out. You look back up at him. He’s leaning on the table with her other arm, straight-faced, nodding along to something Artemis was saying. Even her voice is pretty. Her tone carrying a confidence you were failing to find in the moment.

You looked back down to your own legs, Jason’s thumb moving lightly back and forth over the side of your knee. He didn’t even know he was doing it. He never did.

You looked over to Artemis’ legs, hidden underneath a pair of jeans. Even then you could see how skinny hers were. Could see that her thighs weren’t spilling off the sides of the small metal bistro chair.

Soon enough, she was standing, beginning to say her goodbyes. You swallowed thickly. She was tall too. An amazon, you remember Roy mentioning. How could you forget.

The crop top she was wearing fit her nicely, showing off her toned stomach and even dipping down at the neckline to show some cleavage.

You looked away, your arms folding across your stomach, hiding your own torso.

She smiles at Jason. You quickly look to Jason and find him smiling, too. A genuine smile. One he had yet to give you while you’d been sitting here.

You’re his girlfriend, you remind yourself. He loves you.

She smiles at you and gives her farewell. You can only nod. You watch as she leaves.

God. She was nice, too. Nicer than you had wanted to be to her.

She walks in the direction you had come from. Her hair flowing behind her, an expensive-looking purse hanging from her shoulder. Most men walking past stop to turn and look at her. She ignored them all.

That never happened to you. In fact, Jason had been the first guy to ever even ask you out. You never understood why you were his choice. Not when he was able to pull women like that.

Jason pats your knee and pulls you out of your thoughts, “Want to get anything before we go?”

You can’t even face him. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. A fucking amazonian warrior.

You stare down at the table, catching sight of your own hands. Your nails worn from your shift at the restaurant, fingertips still wrinkled from the water.

Why the hell would he ever stay with you if she was still in his life?

“No.” You finally answer. “Thank you.”

He nodded, sighing as he fished out his wallet to pay for their coffees. He counts the bills and change, speaking with his head down, “How many times have I told you not to walk around with your headphones on?”

You lift your head to look at him, “What?”

He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still hidden by his shades. “Your headphones. You get so lost in your music you couldn’t even see me waving to get your attention.”

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table, “I was looking past you. I didn’t expect to see you—”

“I was calling your name, too. If your headphones were off then you could’ve heard me.” He tossed a twenty onto the table, leaning forward on his elbows to look at you. “Anyone could sneak up on you.”

You pursed your lips, your brows tightening at him.

Why did she get a smile and not me?

Jason gestured to your bag on the table, “Same with this. The hell you putting it on the floor for? You wouldn’t notice it was taken until far too late—”

“You don’t have to drive me,” you interrupted. “I’ll walk.”

Jason cocked his head slightly, looking genuinely curious, “Why? Car’s right over there—“

“I’ll walk.” You repeated. Firmly.

You needed the walk. You had to try and work the jealousy out of your mind before you got into it with Jason. You didn’t want to argue. Not now. Not in public.

Jason sighed, running a hand over his mouth, “Don’t be like that.” He started to stand, his keys jingling in his hand, “Come on.”

He reached to take your bag for you, a large brown envelope already in his hand. Whatever Artemis had given him.

You reached out and snatched it from his hand. You stood, throwing it over your shoulder. “I’ll walk.”

Jason stared at you for a moment, seemingly frozen in place.

He sighed through his nose, “What’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath trying to control your emotions. This was stupid. Jason had broken up with her for a reason. Had been dating you for the last year and a half for a reason.

Unfortunately, your mouth was working faster than your mind, “Don’t act like you didn’t start this.”

Jason pushed his shoulders back. He tried again, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, frustrated.

“Fine,” he stuffed his free hand in his pocket. “Just don’t be wearing your headphones while walking around.“

You were tired. Your shift had been long. You were worked up from your mind running all the comparisons between you and Artemis. It was still running them, you suppose, as otherwise you wouldn’t have said, “I guess you wouldn’t have to worry about her all the time. She can handle herself.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his first shown emotion since that smile he’d given her, “Who?” Then they shot up almost just as quickly. “Artemis? Is that was this is about?”

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment at his realization. He’d figured you out.

His shoulders tensed, “Do you really not trust me?”

The way he had said it, his tone, has made it sound like the silliest thing in the world. Now it made you feel even stupider. Of course you trusted him.

You caught people staring in the corner of your vision. You ducked your head back down.

You gripped your tote bag at the straps over your shoulder and stormed off.

You heard Jason call your name as you passed by him again, on the other side of the barrier, headed back to your apartment.

Hope you guys enjoyed!! Pt 2 will be out later this week!!

Update!! Part 2 is here!!!

Part 2

[gardenialver]

Of Eagles and Hummingbirds

synopsis - just some headcanons while dating Ushijima but being like 35 cm shorter

pairings - Wakatoshi Ushijima

content - f!reader, reader does have a few outlined features mainly height, fluff

The first time Ushijima saw you in high school he thought you were a first year but then he saw you at a university junction while in his second year of post secondary and went through a moment of confusion

The two of you got closer through Ushijima's simple mindedness. since you were more academically inclined, or at least more academically inclined than him since you actually passed all your classes at Shiratorizawa

Before he realized it Ushijima suddenly became someone you were heavily dependent on, despite his nonchalant behaviour he always checked in on you when you would go out drinking, letting your head rest against him until you regained composure

His habit of lowering his entire body to hear people better came from being around you and moments where you were more soft spoken

After you started dating Ushijima began to take into consideration how much smaller you were than him, small things (pun) how your hands were tiny, he was used to towering over people in general as someone over 190 cm, but with you, you were shorter than the average person especially since he was used to being around volleyball players

You were so small he just wanted to protect you, he wanted to keep you in his grasp at all times, when you'd go to watch his games he was scared when you'd come down to meet him that his teammates would suddenly start tripping over you

Your biggest concern was that sometimes when you'd go out with him and people saw the two of you, they'd gush over the fact that Wakatoshi was taking care of his baby cousin or baby sister, it was true in your eyes your boyfriend would be much more suited with someone who was tall, the contrast between you two raised too many eyebrows, of course your concerns would always be deflected in the moment when he'd suddenly grip your hand as if it was his lifeline, thrust you in front of him and boldly claim on the street "This is my lady"

Of course you'd feel embarrassed and speechless but still a part of you enjoyed it, that he'd so shamelessly declare to everyone that you were the one he loved

On a cuter note when the two of you hugged it brought you comfort that you could hear his heartbeat so gently and how he tried to immerse himself into you, holding you close to him, putting his face into your hair, placing light soft kisses on your head

Sometimes when the two of you hugged he'd start to carry you, just up to his eye level but still with that your legs would hang in the air, it was childish but you enjoyed it, he'd spin you around while you giggled

Other times you'd jump onto his back and he'd sort of play with you there, whenever he carried you it looked like a koala stuck to a eucalyptus tree but the two of you enjoyed it so what else was there to care about

When you would steal his clothes it would obviously be way too big, the sleeves would hang awkwardly around your arms and you'd look like you were wearing a dress or that you didn't have any pants on but you could care less, his clothes were comfy and they smelled like him, it was all the comfort you needed when he'd be on work trips

He also really adored the way you looked in his clothes and sometimes would leave them around so you'd purposely put them on

Sometimes when getting stuff from higher shelves that you'd struggle with, Wakatoshi would full on hold you like a cat and carry you up to what you needed to get which was sweet at home but in public it did make you feel a bit more shy

One more thing, Wakatoshi thought your tiny hands were one of the most adorable things in the world, they were soft and small in comparison to his larger rough and calloused ones, he thought they encompassed you nicely and vowed to protect them from even the smallest of things, cuts and burns from just cooking or paper, for your cute little hands he'd do anything

[stxneflxwers]

tough love.

⋯⁂ summary. he could use tough love, but only yours.

⋯⁂ a/n. this glorious idea hit me... i had to write it immediately !! also if it reads weird halfway thru, it's cuz my internet fucking died and i had to finish this at two different times D:

⋯⁂ characters. aventurine x gn reader.

⋯⁂ cw. post-penacony. all lowercase. reader is brutally honest. aventurine gets some tough love. hurt/comfort. you knew each other pre-penacony. some cussing. awkward confession. you give him a hug.

aventurine is tired. fatigued. exhausted.

penacony has been one brutally eye-opening experience after another for him, and many others. a part of him wants to sleep for so long, so so long. perhaps not permanently, but when he feels well enough to face the world again. maybe.

this place is a goddamn nightmare, he thinks with a wry and weak chuckle.

right now, he's standing in clockie studios theme park – a place he's grown to partly resent, partly appreciate. he stares down the repaired big screen with crossed arms as he leans against a wall. it's now so isolated here, but people have bigger fish to fry, he thinks. yet... he can't help but feel so small in comparison. briefly, he feels relieved he isn't in the spotlight.

"you know, that was pretty shitty of you. maybe the shittiest. but... maybe you've learned your lesson, hm?"

a familiar voice nearby echoes in his ears – your voice. your sweet yet painfully forthright voice. you're perhaps the only damned person in this unforgiving universe that could hope to understand his inner machinations.

now, he finds himself appreciating you more than ever. maybe he's ready to be seen, even just a little. but only by you.

he smirks, "yeah, maybe i did." he laughs weakly.

silence casts a thick blanket over you two. maybe for a moment too long.

"you know," you start again, "i've been incredibly worried over your dumb ass." you sigh, yet it's the sweetest sound to him.

"ah," he mutters shyly, "my bad." he can't stop smiling, but it's hardly one borne from his false bravado.

"...damn right it's 'your bad'," you frown slightly, the sight hurts to see. and then you stride up to him with tentative confidence, "...i missed you, too." you stand a couple of paces away from him.

"you know what? i missed you like hell too." he confesses, there's something mysteriously soft in his gaze as he stares you down. his gaze lacks its usual lightlessness, it's the first time you've ever seen a shimmer of something honest in him.

"you're finally changing, then!" you grin, finally closing the distance, "i believe in you, aven. i always have, i always will. and, well…" you hesitate, a rare occurrence. "…i'm honored to witness your growth and change. you're not immutable… and, inevitably, everything is mutable." you whisper.

aventurine can't stop himself from blushing.

he's not sure why he's blushing – is it the proximity? no, he's used to standing near you. is it your words? no, not that either. is it your mere presence? ...maybe.

you notice his pink cheeks immediately. and you grin.

"what's with that look on your face, huh–"

"i love you."

you damn near choke on your own oxygen. (not that oxygen is entirely a necessity in a dream.) now you're the flustered one. actually, both of you are flustered – his red face rivaling your surprised expression.

"i–" he starts, "uh..." his mouth hangs open. why in the absolute hell did he just blurt that out? "haha! got ya! you know me and my–"

"that wasn't a prank, so don't even try pulling that on me..." your surprise shifts into a half-hearted glare, and a little pout that he wants to kiss so badly.

"haha... o-okay, not a prank..." he raises his hands defensively.

and then there's naught but silence. very awkward silence. the most awkward silence. he's still blushing, you're still glaring. he glances around, as if searching for the nearest exit, and when his eyes land back on you, you've taken a step closer to him.

"i love you too, you reckless idiot."

you sigh as your expression softens, even your voice is as light as a halovian's feather. it's music to his ears. he cracks a small smile, it's genuine and bashful with the way it curves his lips.

"...and i know my love can't fill the holes in your heart," you whisper, "but... you'll let me at least help you out with putting band-aids on for now, right?" you smile, he can taste how bittersweet it must feel for you.

"heh," he laughs breathily, "as long as it's you helping out."

"good. i can't keep pushing my way into your world, anyway, so... please... let me stay a while longer." you pull him into a tentative, careful hug – holding him like he's made of glass. and maybe he is.

"i..." he trails off as a sudden surge of emotions threatens to overwhelm him, bubbling in his chest. "stay." he hides his face in your shoulder.

"for as long as you'll have me."

"then... always?"

"always."

[tmntfixationxreader]

"I just read your Donnie fic and I am in LOVE with the way you write. Sometimes I feel like fics don't really show the emotions of the turtles beyond being shy around reader and I appreciate fluff where the characters actually interact and have a meaningful moment without it having to be sexual. So let me just say your writing feeds my soul. I love it.

That being said can I request a Raph x fem reader crack oneshot?

Reader was a friend of April and April decided that it would be good to introduce the turtles and reader. Little did she know that reader had a thing for big buff dudes, to the point that she goes from generally outgoing to extremely shy within seconds. So when she meets Raph she gets quiet, avoids eye contact, and fidgets frequently. Raph calks it up first time nervousness because he knows that he can be a bit intimidating. Reader eventually starts hanging around the turtles more often and gets closer with Donnie, Leo, and Mikey but is still shy around Raph and it ends up hurting his feelings. He feels like he's too scary and starts avoiding reader. Obviously this is the opposite of what the reader wanted, especially after getting to know him a little bit better and liking him even more.

Bonus points if the reader is taller than most her peers and a bit stronger to so she is often viewed as not feminine. So in order to seem more feminine she wears baggy clothing and curls in on herself to feel small. Happy ending please🙇‍♀️

Sorry if this is too long or too specific 😫 I just really like the way you write and I feel like I can trust you with an idea that is so dear to my heart!!!

Make sure to rest and drink some water.❤️"

♡All requests are anonymous, so here is the copy and pasted ask♡

Thank you so so much for the kind words!! I really appreciate and it fuels me to keep writing <3 Also, I did drink some water.

Here is your request! I hope It is how you wanted it :)

*****************************************************************

♡You don't scare me♡Raph x Fem!Reader♡

~When you get nervous around Raph, he’s worried you are scared of him~

Word count: 3,237 (longest one-shot so far)

Warnings: Fluff, Fem reader, strong/tall reader, reader attracted to strong guys, squishmallows.

*****************************************************************

When Apri skipped up to you, bag over her shoulder with more than a few pencils falling out the back end, you knew immediately she had planned something. 

She was panting, and smiled excitedly at you. “Y/n! Guess what?”

You smile at her, stopping and helping her pick up the pencils that had just fallen out. “What?”

“So you know those friends I told you about?? The ones that don’t go to school here?” She said, grabbing the pencils with you and shoving them messily back into her bag.

“Yeah! That's the brothers right?” You say, standing back upright after you had collected the last of the pencils.

You were easily a head taller than April, had broader shoulders, and had some pretty good muscles on you. From April being small and lesser on the muscle scale, and you being tall and muscular, the comparison made many people do a double take. It just heightened the differences you two had. You two didn’t care though, you liked yourselves just as you two were. And if there were days when you would doubt it, then April was always, always here to prove just how great you were. Just like you were always there for her.

She nodded excitedly. “Yes! Mikey, Leo, Donnie-”

“And Raph,” You finished, grinning, and April nodded happily. “You talk about them a lot.”

She laughed, and you two began walking. “Yeah, I guess I do… Anyways, I had a chat with them and they invited me to bring you to their- er- house!”

Your face lit up with excitement. April had talked about these guys for years. It was about time your finally meet them

“Heck yeah! When can we go?” You ask, putting one hand into your baggy hoodie pocket. You always wore baggy clothes. 

April smiled, pushing her red glasses back up into place on her nose. “After school! If you're not busy.”

You shook your head. “Nope! I’m not busy, I would love to meet them.”

April grinned. “Perfect! I’ll let ‘em know, and we can go after school!”

April found you immediately after school, which wasn’t hard. You two usually walked home together on most days anyways.

What you weren’t expecting was how far away their house was.

It seemed like you two were just walking until the crowd of kids faded away, which turned out to be the idea.

When April turned and went into an alleyway, you got really confused.

“An… Alley?” You said, raising an eyebrow and following her anyways. You trusted April, and knew she wasn’t going to lead you anywhere dangerous. 

April nodded her head side to side. “Well… Yes.. I mean, they aren’t living in the alley…”

She walked over to the sewer gate and lifted the lid. You stared at the sewer entrance.

You raised an eyebrow, and put a hand on your hip.“Ok, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

You trusted April. She had been your best friend for a long time. You two had done a lot of crazy things when you were little; from pulling amazing parkour stunts on the couches to playing Floor is Lava. You two did it all. Now that you two were older, you had broadened the area of things you two could do; the mall, movies, drawing,  unfortunately homework, and you still were the all-time champion of floor is lava.

Even after everything, how April managed to convince you to go into the sewers, you still didn’t know.

That didn’t matter now, you were walking in a sewer tunnel next to April, narrowly dodging some unmentionable things you avoided looking at.

But in all honesty, it wasn’t that bad. It was at first, but the further and closer you got the cleaner it was. Soon the smell went away entirely, and the tunnel was empty and clean. The smell was so gone, that you actually started smelling… Pizza?

The sheer thought of smelling pizza in a sewer tunnel attempted to trigger your gag reflex.

“April… is that pizza?” You ask, feeling nauseated and looking at her like this whole thing was crazy. You were open minded, but this was getting crazy.

April smiled and nodded. “Heh, yeah, the boys like pizza… Mikey is probably cooking some.”

“Ok… So how close… are… we?”  You trail off as you turn a corner, seeing an entrance to what you could only assume was the brothers house. It looked really nice on the inside, from what you could see. Pizza boxes, skate ramps- like the whole place was a skate park on the inside. And that was only what you could see.

April stepped inside. 

"She’s here!” She called into the layer.

“Ok!” A light-toned male voice called back. “Tell us when you're ready!”

April turned back to face you.

You glanced around to see the lack of brothers. “Are… They hiding?”

April nodded nervously. “There’s a couple of things I need to explain first…”

You raised an eyebrow and fidgeted with your hoodie drawstrings. It wasn’t out of nervousness, you were excited.

“Ok… What is it?” You ask. 

April nodded her head side to side. “So… Before you meet them, you need an open mind.”

“April, you know me. I am a very open minded person- as long as they aren't walking crocodiles living in the sewers I'm fine.”

April blinked. “How does a turtle sound?”

You raised both eyebrows. “I like turtles… But what does that have to do with them?”

April smiled slightly. “Mikey, why don’t you come on out!” 

You got slightly excited; you had heard so much about the brothers already, and knew that Mikey was the artistic younger brother.

Mikey slowly side-stepped out from around the corner, a large smile on his face. 

He was… Green? With an orange mask and a… Turtle shell??

Your jaw dropped and you blinked. You were frozen like that for a while. 

Mikey turned kind of shy, giving a small wave.

You waved back, and finally took a breath. “M… Mikey?”

His face lit up into a smile. “Yep! I’m Mikey!!”

You smile a little. “Wow! You're a… Turtle!!”

Mikey smiled back. “Yep! A mutant turtle teenager!”

You smiled back happily, taking a step towards him, and walking around him. You were a head taller than he was. You looked down at his shell, his green skin, and the yellow spots on his shoulders.

“Wow!” You exclaimed, looking back at April, who smiled. “Wait- are your brothers turtles too??”

Mikey nodded. “Yep! Would you like to meet them?”

You nodded, smiling, eyes wide with shock and excitement.

“Leo! Donnie! Come on out!” Mikey called. 

A turtle in a blue mask came out around the corner. The first thing you noticed was that he was a different color green, and he had red crescents around his eyes. He was as tall as you were, close enough that you could probably only tell who was taller by standing side by side.

He waved his hand.

“What’s up Y/n! I’m Leon!” He said in his show-offey-tone. 

You waved back. “Hi Leon!” You said happily.

A turtle in purple came out next. You noticed he had a head wrap instead of a bandana, and he had a pair of goggles mounted on his head. His shell looked different too, like it was metal. And you more than quickly realize it was.

“My name is Donnie, Donatello, and to my loving brother here, Donald,” He said with a sarcastic monotone voice.

You smile, watching Leo lean an arm on Donnie’s shoulder. You give Donnie a wave too.

“Wait, isn’t there one more brother?... Raph right?” You ask the brothers. 

Mikey nods. “Yes in deedy! But there is something you should know first… Raph is a little… Bigger than the rest of us. He wanted me to tell you that first before you met him.”

You shrug. “I am bigger than most people my age, too.”

Mikey smiles. “He may look big and scary, but he really is the sweetest guy…”

You smile and nod, looking around the corner to where the other brothers came out from. 

“Raph? You can come out,” You say.

Then, a turtle who was two heads taller than Leo, and at least twice his size, came out around the corner. He was strong, his arms and legs loaded with muscle, and he had spikes protruding from the top and back of his plastron and back of his shell. 

One small tooth poked out from the right side of his mouth, and he smiled nervously when he spoke, clearly shy.

“Hi… I’m Raph...”

You smiled, and gave him a nervous wave. For someone who was generally outgoing, you suddenly became very shy. You didn’t know exactly why.

Raph smiled, and looked towards Mikey with a smile. For him, it was just a win that you didn’t run away.

“H-hi Raph… I’m Y/n,” You say, smiling up at him but, then looking away back at the other brothers as you felt it growing harder and harder to keep eye contact.

Raph beamed, and nodded happily. “Nice to meet you!”

The brothers and April smiled.

The pizza timer dingged, and everyone looked towards the doorway to the kitchen. 

“Time to eat! Y/n, how do you feel about pizza?” Mikey asked, rocking on his heels excitedly.

You grinned at him. “I love pizza!”

It had been about a month since then, and you and April would hang out with the turtles everyday after school.

You and the turtles had gotten closer, you would play games with Leo and Donnie, and make art with Mikey. You really wanted to train or hang out with Raph, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Something about him was just so… You didn’t want to explain it. But whatever it was, it was making you nervous. You would fidget, avoid eye contact with him, and get much, much quieter. You just couldn’t get yourself to stop being so shy around him, even though you really wanted to hang out with him. 

April and the other brothers didn’t seem to notice, and if Raph noticed. He had avoided you multiple times before. He knew he was big, scary and intimidating, and he thought you just hadn’t gotten used to him yet.

“Hey guys! How about we play a board game?” Mikey called out to the others from where he was playing his video game with you. You had gotten pretty good at that fighting game, and Mikey was getting a little playfully worried that you would beat him soon. That was his high score on the line after all.

You grinned. “Perfect!”

“That sounds great!” April said excitedly, then got up from her spot next to Leo. The two of them had been watching a cartoon on his phone. “I’ll go get one!”

Raph came excitedly into the room, ushering Donnie in as well. Donnie didn’t seem all that pleased about the idea, but perhaps that was just the aloof-bad-boy persona he was trying to perfect.

Everyone gathered around the table, standing over it as April brought in the game, she had chosen Sorry.

You were bubbling with excitement as everyone gathered around… Until Raph took his spot across from you, smiling that adorable smile that had been playing on loop in your head for the past few weeks.

Your heart (for reasons you didn’t want to sort out-) started to flutter again. You took a firm hold of your hoodie drawstrings, seeming to shrink a little. Your smile was still genuine, but it seemed lesser, like you were suddenly self conscious and shy.

The others didn’t notice as they were setting up the game, but Raph did. He always did. He always noticed that you got nervous around him. He really did think you were just shy around him at first, but you had known him for weeks and you still were like this… 

Raph’s smile seemed to fade a little too. 

Just as they were handing him his game token, he put his hands up and took a step backwards. 

“Sorry guys, Raph just forgot that he was supposed to help Dad clean up the living room…” Raph said, speaking in the third person again. Normally you thought that it was adorable when he did that, but something about the way that he was speaking seemed off.

Mikey raised an eyebrow. “You can do it after, I’m sure Dad wouldn't mind if-”

“No, no, Mikey, I told him I would… You guys go ahead and play. Raph’ll catch up with you later…” He said, and walked off towards the living room where his dad was always watching his commercials.

The brothers exchanged glances, and April got up to go after him, when you stopped her. 

“I’ll go get him. You guys go ahead and start, Raph and I will join in the next round,” You say, and follow where Raph had left.

Raph wasn’t in Splinter's room.

You checked the dojo, and the skate ramp before finally finding him in his room.

You heard moving from within his room, but his curtain was pulled covering the door so you didn’t let yourself in. Instead you knocked on the doorframe.

“R-Raph? Are you coming?” You asked.

“Uh- Y/n… Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute…” Raph said. You stood quietly for a moment.

“Can I come in?” You asked.

“Yeah… Sure,” He said. 

You stepped through the curtain into his room. He was sitting on his bed, the mattress bowing beneath his weight. 

His room was nice, a few posters, some weapons hung up, and a few scratches on the walls from his spikes. It was pretty clean, surprisingly.

The one defining feature was the squishmallow on his bed, each neatly in place. That made you smile. 

He watched you expressionless for a moment.

You watched him. 

“Can I sit down…?” You asked quietly. He nodded.

You sat down next to him. It was weird being smaller than someone, you were normally much taller than the rest of your peers, so sitting next to someone so much bigger than you was almost a relief. You more than often hunched over to make yourself feel smaller, but next to Raph you felt like you didn’t have to do that. It makes you feel more comfortable in your own skin.

Raph watched you for a moment. “Why did you come to get me?”

You shrug, playing with your hoodie drawstrings again. “The others got worried when you left, so I volunteered to come and get you.”

Raph nods a little. “But… Why?”

You shrug again, seeming nervous. “I wanted you to come and play.”

Raph looked slightly surprised, shifting so he was facing you. “But… You don’t like Raph. I make you scared… Why would you want me there?”

You look extremely confused. “What? Scared? You don’t make me scared, Raph.”

Raph shook his head, his voice quiet. “But I do… I'm big… I’m scary… I make you scared..”

You looked at him like he was crazy. “What? Why would I be scared of you! You're one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met!”

He blushes a little at the compliment. “But… You're always fidgeting when you're around me… You get quiet. You don’t like hanging out with Raph.”

You shake your head, reaching up and putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“I love to hang out with you, Raph… Actually it’s been making me a little disappointed that you keep avoiding me.”

Raph nodded. “Sorry… Raph just thought you would like it better if I stayed away…” His eyes dropped down to the mattress.

You shook your head. “Raph, why would you think that? You don’t make me scared, or intimidated at all…” 

“Y/n, I’m a giant mutant snapping turtle. You do get nervous around me. You don’t have to be sorry for that, I get it,” He said, attempting to give you a fake smile, but you saw right through it.

“Raph… I do get nervous around you, but it’s not because I think you're scary. Promise… But I get where you're coming from… Actually, you're a lot like me. I’m so much bigger than everyone else my age, and I'm not trying to brag, but I'm pretty strong in comparison to them, too. I’ve had a lot of people avoid me before.”

Raph looks at you, waiting for you to continue. When you don’t, he speaks.

“So… If you're not scared… Then why are you so nervous?” He asks. You put your hands in your lap and fidget a little again.

“W-well… See… I…” You stutter.

Raph looks confused. 

You sigh, taking a deep breath.

“Well, I… I kind of have a thing for big strong guys…” You mutter.

Raph blinks, and blushes without his expression changing. 

His eyes widened. “Oh- so you're not scared of me- you… you just have a thing for big strong guys?”

You nod a little, feeling your own cheeks burn.

Raph’s eyes widen even more. “Wait- I’m a big strong guy!”

You chuckle, and nod. 

His jaw drops momentarily and he blushes. “Ohhhh- so you think i’m-” He puts a finger to his chest and waits for you to speak.

You nod again. “Y-yeah…”

His face lights up into a bright smile. “S-so you think I’m… Attractive?”

“Yeah… Very…” You say, feeling your cheeks burn. You are smiling a little, but taking out all of your nerves on your hoodie drawstrings.

Raph grins and he blushes. “So you're not scared of me?”

You shake your head, smiling.

Raph nods, grinning. He blushes a little more. “Y/n… Can I tell you something?”

You nod, still blushing. “Of course…”

“Well… I kind of have a thing for strong girls…” He smiled, face as red as his mask.

You blush, looking down at the mattress with a grin.

“So… You…” You say and wait for him to answer.

He nods. “You probably don’t realize it… But you're really cute, Y/n…” He blushes a lot.

You smile, blushing and feeling awkward. “T-Thanks…”

You two sit in the silence for a moment.

“So… You probably think that someone as big and strong as I am is weird for collecting squishmallows then…” Raph said, feeling slightly embarrassed.

You immediately shake your head. “Nope! I’ve got a few at home too.”

Raph’s eyes lit up. “Really! What ones? What are their names?”

You grin. “I’ve got Abby the octopus, Caddie the cat, and Darex the dinosaur!”

Raph grinned. “Cool! I have quite a few… I can show you if you want!”

You nod excitedly, and Raph shifted so he could show you his collection better…

For the next half hour, you and Raph talk about both of your squishmallows, and the conversation slowly shifts from your favorite tv shows, to your favorite foods, and your favorite music.

You and Raph learned a lot more about each other, and you two grew much, much closer.

Eventually April comes up to say the second round is starting, and you two play the game with the others. 

And this time, when Raph stands across the counter from you and smiles that adorable smile of his, you smile back. 

And if you get nervous, he knows it’s not about his appearance or that you think he’s scary… 

…It’s because you like him…

…And he might just like you back…

*****************************************************************

Hope you like it! Thank you very much for the request! <3

This one ended up being longer, my brain took the story and ran with it lol

I am currently working on 4 other requests, and I will write them in the order I received them :)

Master post

Bye bye Butterflies!!

[jaidens]

i have a request for daniel larusso!! so i just got done gossiping with my friend 💞 and i was thinking… what abt gossiping with daniel? like maybe reader and daniel and having a sleepover and they’re like gossiping with eacher 😭😭 while doing like makeup or skincare 😭💞??

You Heard The Rumors From Inez

pairing [s] : daniel larusso x reader

warning [s] : good ol’ gossip |

a/n [s] : thank you for the request! also gossiping is good for the soul sometimes.. [requests are open]

Daniel sometimes loved and hated his highschool.

On the good side, you went there and some of his friends did too.

On the bad side, the rumors and gossip spread like wildfire. There was barely any chance to tell anyone you were dating Daniel before it spread to everyone because you were caught holding his hand. It was easier, you told him, that you didn't have to tell people.

He never understood, why people spread rumors whenever he knew the damage of it. Especially when you're the butt of it all. He eventually got used to the rumors and sometimes it was hilarious to listen to.

You're sitting in front of your vanity, taking off your makeup (Daniel assumes) and you let out a loud gasp and turn down the mixtape Daniel made for your year anniversary. You twist around quickly before he questions what happened. “Did I not tell you what Samantha Jenkins told me yesterday?” You ask him to watch him gently shake his head no. “No you didn't baby.”

He's laying on your bed, throwing a trinket you had on your night stand. “Okay, so, basically Jessica Stevens found out that Danielle Cunningham slept with four guys while dating Freddy. And I mean, I couldn't believe it. So, I asked her. And she said, believe it or not, that's not all!” You're talking excitedly and waving your hands around in the air. Daniel sits on your bed and admires you.

“Oh yeah. Fred was air-headed last game. Danielle actually slept with that many guys? She would always go into the locker room to ‘to talk to Freddy’ that's whenever I found her and Ben in the bathroom.” Daniel tells you, pretending to shiver and gag. You laugh at his antics, “What are you putting on your face? It kinda looks like orange juice.” You laughed at his comparison of your Ten-O-Six lotion.

“It combats acne and stuff. I swear on my life by it. Okay, so she slept with Ben too? I only knew about Chase, Leon, and Tommy.” You turn your head to look at him and he nods with a weird look on his face. You close your vanity drawers after sticking everything back and you push your chair in. “You’re finally done now...” Daniel tells you holding his arms out and giving you his grabby hands. “Not can do. I'm gonna go get us face masks!”

You hear him let out a groan and you yell back, “Do it if you love me!” He stops his groaning suddenly and you give a small laugh whenever you grab your face masks from the cabinet. Once you walk back into your room, Daniel is sat up against the wall with pillows stacked up to his head.

He's messing with the channels on your television and scrolling aimlessly through them. You tell him to stop scrolling whenever you see one of your favorite movies, Secret Admirer. “Michael Ryan is so fine.” You whisper under your breath and you see Daniel cock his eye brow and give you a ‘are-you-serious?’ look. You laugh and sit down on your bed and Daniel pulls you into his lap.

His eyes are focused on your face as you get the face mask out of the tube to put it on Daniel's face. Daniel's hands go to your thighs rubbing soft circles whenever you push his hair out of his face. You apply the cold facemask onto his face he lets out a quick breath through his teeth. “Smells like lemons... mmm.”

Daniel's eyes close and you continue applying until your phone rings. You pick it up and Daniel hears a shriek on the other side. You and her talk for a couple seconds before you hang up and turn back to Daniel. “What was that baby?” He asks as he follows your face. “Steph’ just got the scoop on Angela Murphy. Apparently, she was talking smack about her best friend and they rumbled in Clarity Hills.”

You applied your mask while talking, Daniel sat and listened to things she had done to you. “She was always mean to everyone. In freshman year, she picked on me all the time. I never liked her. And hearing what she did to you? Bitchy.” Daniel laughs with you before feeling his face get tight. “The mask is making my face hurt.”

“That means it's ready! I'm gonna go ahead and pull it off okay?” He nods and closes his eyes and your hands go to his face and you start pulling it off. It comes off in one piece and he stares at it. “You pulled my face off!” Daniel jokes and you slap his shoulder gently.

You and Daniel stay there for a bit, laying and watching the movie. At the climax of the movie, you fall into a kiss with Daniel. He holds his lips before slowly deepening. The credits play and you turn the television off. “I love that movie. I saw it in theaters with Jessica and we both cried.”

You and Daniel laugh and he squeezes you tightly. “I love these nights with you. Especially the one we had after the tournament.” He teases in your ear, reminding you of the wild night you enjoyed with him on the warm Reseda night. “You tease.” You mumbled under your breath and kissed him again. “Thanks for coming over. I bet your Mom's happy.”

When you went to go look back up at him, he was asleep. You put the blanket over him and kiss him softly on his nose. “Goodnight, I love you.”

[lefetellc]

Eerie Dating other Eris-Sonas :3

Okay so after the first round of dating, I think it's time we get some sonas who get a glimpse of a submissive-like Eerie (for varying reasons) Also, there isn't much art here; I did plan to draw them with Eerie, but I lost energy from so much Eerie lol

With the intro over, let the Eris games... begin!

.

.

First is Lee by @0x0y0z0

Instead of highschool, Eerie meets Lee at the start of college

I imagine that instead of Eerie approaching first, it would be Lee

Lee is either extremely forward or always beating around the bush because of his excessive awkwardness

Now, the reason Lee would confess to Eerie could be for differing reasons

One could be that Lee wanted to enjoy a more extroverted-life and get over his extreme awkwardness

Another could be that Lee is interested in Eerie's... eerie behavior. Eerie is always walking around college with a thick backpack and a constant aroma of gunpowder from him. For those reasons, Lee concluded that Eerie was secretly carrying guns around school

Either way, Eerie would welcome Lee with open arms and a cheery :3 smile

To Eerie, Lee was a loner with a dark aesthetic. And if you know anything about Eerie, you'd know he loves that dark theme

Eerie would talk to Lee about joining his friend group after they talk a bit more, probably in passing through classes

When Lee reluctantly agrees, Eerie excitedly bring him to meet Villa, Desmond, and Seph

Judging from everyone's attitude, everyone would accept Lee into the friend group

Villa and Desmond will have their suspicions

Eerie has brought certain... people to school. And they'd all leave with that familiar toxic, smoke-like scent Eerie carried.

After hanging out more; weekdays, weekends, and pretty much any free hour, Eerie would buddy up with Lee

Eerie loved hanging out with such a quiet loner. In comparison to Milo (who isn't in this story) Milo is also a loser like Lee in terms of awkwardness, but what Lee has over Milo is style

It's one of the only reasons Eerie keeps Lee around

Eerie enjoys touching and messing with Lee's hair and clothes. Pocketing buttons and photos taken to laugh at later with his other 'friends'

When Eerie got too close and intimate with Lee, Lee would shoot him a deathly gaze and force Eerie off

The sudden change would excite Eerie, prompting him to hit and whisper in Lee's ear

Similar to other sonas, Eerie wanted to incite something in Lee so he'd do something drastic and eye-catching

After probing and picking at Lee's skin for a whole year, he'd crack and finally pin Eerie down.

Eerie gulps, feeling his heart race at the shorter boy on top of him

The cold tiles beneath his back didn't ease his heart, and oh god, he loved it

He loved every second of having that excitement when Lee finally cracked and bared his teeth

This is how their relationship goes. Eerie would constantly step on Lee's coattails to get him to dominate Eerie again-- get his heart pumping more and more

Once Lee gets used to the typical tricks and plays, Eerie steps up his teasing to abusive levels

Their toxic relationship probably 'ends' with Lee dramatically hurting Eerie so the tall man would be sent to the hospital

But even then, Eerie would only run back again only this time with actual guns and a hot fighting spirit to go again. Eerie wants to prolong that adrenaline rush as long as possible.

Eerie sees Lee as a game to give him more excitement, similar to those life-or-death horror movies where the stakes are high.

He won't be letting Lee go anytime soon, as much as he punches or hurts Eerie back

Next is Portia by @emipotato :3

Similar to Eerie, Portia would be holed up inside her house all day and night.

Eerie found that interesting: so other parents rob kids of their childhood, huh?

He'd feel a small level of connection with Portia, but he'd never outwardly approach her because she wasn't interesting *enough*

It was in middle school that Eerie caught Portia stalking him; he felt grossed out but mildly intrigued. What made her do such a thing?

That was all he felt in middle school; he never let Portia know he was keeping tabs on her

In High school is when Eerie finally let himself be free. He'd bring guns to school and vibrate with excitement every time people curiously stepped closer to his bag.

Nobody knew he had such things inside his bag; his mom and dad didn't know either, even though they were the ones who bought the equipment

On an especially cold day, Eerie left his p.e clothes in his bookbag and opted to stay in his regular outfit

When the period finally ended, he returned to his bag and found the entire thing a mess. The magazine which was already full of bullets was missing one. He knew; he counted each of them every night with joy

His clothes were messed with aswell; there were muddy marks and ruffles in his original perfectly folded unfirom.

He eyed the students around; who could've touched it? Various kids played on the field and got themselves dirty from the mud

After all, it had rained yesterday

He scowled and furiously demanded the person who did it to stand up; he didn't talk about his gun, but people were still firghtened

He noted how nobody stand up

The following night, he made sure every student was innocent by telling his 'friends' to keep a watchful eye on them. If they complied properly, he'd let them shoot a few shots at his shooting range at his house

And complied they did; he got reports from each guy telling him how their target's bags were empty of the bullet. None of them had dirty hands either.

He was even more infuriated - so much that he was tempted to shoot one of his friends right then and there- but he held back and gave them his catty smile.

"I want you to fucking think; use that dumbass brain of yours for once and understand what I'm saying. Find the stupid asshole who stole my bullet and bring them to me or else I'll have your head on the news tomorrow."

His friends nodded weakly, going their separate ways. Originally, they planned to coordinate a random student to put the blame on; that was until a mysterious girl stepped up from the shadows

She confessed: "I did it"

They looked dumbfounded. It was really that easy?

They looked at her skeptically. One of the boys recognized her as that sickly kid who always arrived late from school with a dcotor's note. Not to mention the terrible earthy smell coming from her.

Nevertheless, they brought her back to Eerie.

Eerie raised a brow, interested in why an ugly girl like her would do such a thing.

However, it was when it clicked; the earthy smell coming from her came from the rain that came down yesterday. That meant she was outside; for what reason? Only Eerie could answer

Outside his window the previous night, he saw her standing in the rain outside his window.

He couldn't deny that her desperation was amusing. Not exciting, but amusing. Like a joke you'd have when you're breaking up the silence

Eerie decided that he'd let her hang around. Their relationship would be very ambiguous, since Eerie never told anyone about them officially dating. In fact, you could say it was a one-sided relationship

Eerie didn't bother texting Portia back; he didn't gift her anything nor did he comfort her when she got sick from waiting in the rain weather

Eerie made her wait; waiting and waiting until college when he finally told her to fuck off.

Eerie thought she was amusing, but now she was just a clown wearing a tatterd old uniform. The joke wasn't funny anymore and Eerie was finally letting his emotions out.

His memory is very blurry after that.

Eerie couldn't recall much other than Portia saying how he needed to get his mind straight

After that, Eerie found himself being isolated in a basement (Typical Yandere behavior perhaps?)

Eerie would remain in that basement for a year, being restless and whining about 'entertainment' and how 'disgusting and boring' everything was.

Portia would have him inside her basement for however long she wanted; the darkness would corrode at Eerie's will at some point, hopefully

Over that timespan, Portia would dote on Eerie and give him love and affection so she'd be seen as more of a romantic partner for him rather than a clown

This may be ooc for Portia, but for her this was her breaking point. She'd been ignored for so long, and after getting a small glimpse of a romantic life with Eerie, she couldn't let go of it

That's where their relationship ends or rather begins, in Portia's eyes

Eerie is locked up and bound inside her basement, surrendered to her continuous methods of swaying him

It's unknown if he actually ever submits, but he's very close to. The unbearing loneliness makes him crave something, anything exciting

Portia was his only entertainment in that isolation

In the end, Eerie forever sees Portia as entertainment or some gag to laugh at. I doubt Portia will ever pursue a real relationship with Eerie.

This marks the end of Eerie dating pt2!

Hopefully I can get through some more Eris-sonas, but who knows *shrug*

:3

[covenofthearticulate]

Ash please I am begging you for the detailed version of your Louis’ Room at Trinity Gate headcanons 🫢 I gotta know it ALL

HI HELLO OKAY LET'S FUCKING DO THIS

so the thing about Louis' rooms at Trinity Gate is that I absolutely believe they're a bit of a cluster fuck. And that is 100% on purpose. The rest of the mansion is so meticulously designed and so incredibly ornate, that Louis' room is purposefully a lot more simple in comparison (it is not actually simple by any means— when I say simple I mostly mean that there's no insane baroque murals on the ceiling or intricately patterned wallpaper or mountains of crown molding on every wall).

Louis' bedroom is his only real sanctuary in the house where he's not expected to be the Head of Household or the Gracious Host. It's also the only room that won't give him immediate Sensory Overload on the nights when the new blood makes everything feel Too Much. So all that being said: I imagine Louis' room is still an interior design dream come true, it's filled with lots of modern luxuries and is very rich, but at the same time it's the most lived in room in the house, so it's cluttered and messy and just very weird looking!!

OKAY LET'S DIVE IN:

Honestly I'd be remiss if I didn't start off by just dropping in some inspo pics from some of my favorite scenic design of all time, from Only Lovers Left Alive because I think Eve's bedroom and Adam's parlour both radiate Louis Vibes

like, look at all of her BOOKS!!! they're everywhere lmfao, the room is so big but it feels so crowded and intimate and even though she's alone on the bed/on the floor she doesn't feel lonely. it's a perfect little nest, and I definitely think Louis is guilty of leaving piles and piles of books around his room just because he likes the feeling of being surrounded by them. those are his comfort Dostoyevsky's.

At the same time, Adam's place is also just so painfully Louis to me with all the clutter from across the centuries:

like the furniture is beautiful and there was clear aesthetic intention once upon a time, but it's so overrun with shit...there are record crates, but also a walkman and headphones on the coffee table...there's a tv remote with no tv?? there's a fucking candelabra on the middle of the table? I just love it so much, it feels very Louis to me because in my mind even when he's mentally doing okay, Louis strikes me as one of those people who will keep lots of shit lying around.

He's not a material person in the way Lestat is, but sometimes it just doesn't really occur to him that he can just throw stuff away, and also I think he's really fascinated and sentimental about certain Human Things. Like I've said this before, but I've always headcanoned that he likes to keep all the slips of paper and makeshift bookmarks he finds in his secondhand books— occasionally Armand will organize them into a pile or tuck them into a drawer, but otherwise that kind of stuff you'll find scattered about Louis' bedside table, dresser top, and and writing desk.

ANYWAY so at Trinity Gate I think Louis' room itself is surprisingly small, and that's on purpose too. it's meant to be something intimate, so really the only furniture is the bed, a writing desk, some bedside tables, and maybe a small plush armchair for him to sit and read in. a lot of the design and layout is inspired by his familiar late 18th century style, but with a much more modern touch.

I know for a FACT Louis has a fancy four-poster bed, and it's a queen, not a king. He doesn't like all that extra space, he only needs enough for him and Armand to be comfortable in (space gets tight when Lestat sleeps over, but that's okay).

The bedding itself probably isn't too ornate— maybe a sage or navy colored duvet and matching pillow set. No patterns or anything fancy on the bedding, just one straight color. Hanging from the four posters are drapes that Louis absolutely utilizes when he wants a little Extra Privacy. It's also something he's used to from his mortal days (re: sleeping with mosquito netting in louisiana) so it's just muscle memory for him to let down the drapes once he knows he's going to be settling in for the evening.

For reference, I imagine something similar to the structure on the left, with the bedding set on the right

Actually the photo on the right is very similar to how I picture other aspects of Louis' room: the bookshelves in the wall, the cool gem toned walls, accented with a bit of crown molding but nothing too ornate.

I also love the idea of Louis only having a single painting decorating the wall, but I've always liked to imagine that it's a piece that Armand had made for him, hand-painted as a birthday or anniversary gift. Louis hangs it right above his bed and likes to stare up at it upon waking in the early evening.

And don't even THINK of bringing in overhead lighting into his room!!!! He NEEDS yellow gaslight sconce things on his wall!!

okay and lastly, I like to think that even though his room is quite small, he does have spaces carved out for all his lovers. Lestat likes to drape himself dramatically on the little ottoman at the foot of the bed and hang with his hair down as he talks for hours with Louis. Armand likes to perch on top of the writing desk like a cat, toying with all the little trinkets Louis has there, or occasionally flipping through his journals and books just to scribble little love notes in the margins.

Sorry I've gone on for too long but YEAH thinking about character's spaces is just such an interesting way to get to know them!! I am never not imagining all of the intricacies of Louis' bedroom!!!! Please I love him so much!!!

[quietpagan]

What Goes Around

Summary: Nobby Nobbs knows John Keel's face when it walks through the door, apparently, even if it's been thirty years.

AO3

There was a crime being committed everywhere, Commander Vimes would say. At any point in time you could throw a dart at a map of Ankh-Morpork and find a crime where it pierced, no matter if it were night or day, and if you couldn’t find a crime all you had to do was hold Nobby Nobbs upside down and shake him for a bit.

Commander Vimes spent much of the afternoon in the process of committing several crimes himself, among which were Public Indecency (entirely dependent on the area of the city and who saw you), Breaching the Peace (such as it was), and Running Too Fast For Anybody To Catch Up and Figure Out What Was Going On (a surprisingly common crime).

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Upon the resolution of the evening’s tumultuous events and subsequent return to the Watch House, there was a brief moment where everything was normal, and then people actually looked at him. From the desk there was a gasp and the sound of breaking ceramic – Nobby had dropped his cocoa mug.

There was also, on the edge of Vimes’s hearing, a very thin, watery whine.

His entrance, splattered with blood and carrying a handcuffed crook, was not unusual in itself, but Vimes supposed that the addition of the eye patch, the absence of one sleeve, and the story of his disappearance à la magick put pause to the usual proceedings. He looked at the desk where Fred and Nobby were and where the whine was originating from, and was steadily growing louder.

To his horror, Nobby had begun to cry.

This also wasn’t unheard of, especially recently. Nobby’s idea of machismo had always been a bit runny, and after his adventures in Klatch it sometimes ran around in a dress and mascara. A stiff upper lip, Nobby figured, wasn’t very useful for a kid who’d made small change by hanging around businesses until someone gave him some money to leave; they gave it even faster if he threatened to get snot on the floor. Nobby was an ugly crier. He’d had a rough enough childhood, and teenhood, and adulthood, that The School For Hard Knocks sounded like a nice bed-and-breakfast in comparison, and out of all the watchmen (Carrot excluded), Vimes figured that Nobby had the least to actually be insecure about. Shedding a tear in front of his coworkers could only bring down peoples’ opinion of Nobby Nobbs if they pulled out a shovel and dug.

But it was rare, and usually angry. This was not. Nobby was looking at Vimes like his shriveled little heart was breaking, and he was crying hard, and the whine was picking up pitch and starting to become true sobs.*

*It really was a very, very ugly cry. If the moving pictures people held an audition for Ugliest Crier, Nobby Nobbs would be forced into a pair of red-and-blue tights and slapped in the face with a three-part film contract before he’d even pulled out his hanky.

Vimes’s hands were beginning to ache, gripping Carcer’s handcuffs as he was; Carrot stepped forward and gently removed Carcer, half-carrying him quickly but quietly toward the cells. Nobby’s eyes followed Carcer’s face for a moment before snapping back to the Commander, and Vimes realized that he was looking at the bandage Mossy had put over his eye on their way to the bank. Vimes had been to the Watch House earlier that day, just to show his face, but neither of the usual suspects at the desk had been in then, and so had missed the brief flurry of congratulations and well-wishes.

Sergeant Colon, feeling enough awkwardness for everybody, patted Corporal Nobbs on the arm.

“Er, it’s alright, Nobby,” he murmured. He tried to move Nobby back but it was like shifting a statue. “Er, er, we’re all happy that Mister Vimes is back, right? Just you calm down a bit and…”

“What the bleedin’ hell!” Nobby sobbed, darting forward and jabbing a finger at Vimes’s bandaged eye. “I thought I was just imaginin’ it! And everybody told me I was being stupid, and to just shut up and keep me head down and not say anythin’ to you cause, cause, it would probably be upsettin’ to the poor kid and all, and you… an’ you…”

There was a brief instant where Vimes realized that Nobby, and probably several others back then, had thought what past-Sam had thought, and believed John Keel-nee-Vimes to be young Vimesy’s father. And apparently nobody had bothered to mention this for thirty years. And now here Vimes was, the feeling of Keel not yet washed from his skin, looking exactly the same as he did thirty years ago, having come back from a brief venture through space and time, and Nobby was quicker on the uptake than people gave him credit for.

Vimes did the only available thing and picked up the smaller man by the armpits, stepping around the broken shards of the cocoa mug to carry them both upstairs and into his office. Nobby really wasn’t much heavier as an adult than he’d been as a child; most of the weight was probably armor, to be honest, for all that the man ate like a starving bear, and usually nicked something of his neighbor’s plate too while he was at it.

He set Nobby down and closed the door, only to realize that Nobby was still clinging to him; somehow, his thin little arms had found themselves around Vimes’s waist, and were making a decidedly ample effort to squeeze him to death.

Vimes rocked for a moment while processing this. He finally bent down and jerkingly returned the hug. The sobs, fortunately, had petered out, but Vimes’s jerkin was starting to get rather damp.

“I’hckd’th’spn’,” muffled Nobby, from the leather at Vimes’s waist. “Ate fr’ near a week at that place, and when the money ran out I hocked the spoon.” Vimes was beginning to get rather uncomfortable; Nobby Nobbs in immediate vicinity was never particularly pleasant, especially if he was covering your breastplate in tears and snot. He patted Nobby anyway.

“Yeah, I know, Nobby, it was me you sold it to, remember? Look, let me get a hanky, at least…”

“Rubbish bastard you are, sir,” wobbled Nobby, blowing magnificently into the hanky and wiping it across his face. “So’s that’s your grave we’ve been tossing eggs at for thirty years, yeah? And you never even ate one!”

“Hell, Nobby, I didn’t…I didn’t really…”

I just filled in the gaps, he thought to himself, knowing it was a lost cause. Quantum. What a bitch. Vimes weighed the option of showing horrible vulnerability toward his younger subordinate with the option of being honest with his friend of thirty years, who still had a rather manky-looking lilac sprig tucked behind his ear.

“I didn’t know, Nobby. It really only happened a few hours ago, for me.”

Nobby shuffled over and sat down in the spare chair.

“The wizards said you’d been shuffled around in time. They didn’t know where or when you was sent, sir. So…so you had to be there twice?  At the same time?” Vimes sat down in his own chair with a groan. He hadn’t slept in how long? He’d last eaten when, exactly? He’d shaved but hadn’t bathed yet, and there was still old blood in his hair and soaked into the crevices of his hands, splattered over with fresh blood from his tussle with Carcer. His eye ached and for that matter, so did his ribs and his hands and everything in between, the few hours of sleep he’d gotten while unconscious on the bedroom carpet only a thin veneer of rest over the deep well of exhaustion that grabbed at him with painful fingers.

But Nobby was watching him with bright eyes, and just a few hours ago Vimes had seen him on the ground, trying not to get hit or stepped on as the melee across the barricade continued, after the boy had run through crowds of soldiers and panicking civilians to warn him about Snapcase. He’d probably been around eight or so, not counting the cynicism. Vimes-as-Keel had given him a few meals and a lack of cuffs around the head, and that was all it had taken, really. Even thirty years later, he still talked about that damn spoon, which young Vimes had bought off of him in pity when the kid came around to the Watch House to try and mump a meal from him a few weeks later.

A brief but sharp knife of grief jabbed Vimes in the chest at the realization that Nobby – and everybody else who could remember – would now only ever remember Vimes-as-Keel, not Keel himself as Vimes had known him. It felt like Keel’s name had been erased from the books of time, written over with a facsimile of the man, and Vimes held the only original copy. How was that fair? How was that just or right when the people who spent every May twenty-fifth remembering Keel now only knew the copy that had been stuffed into his boots? When they spoke his name they would be speaking of Vimes. The thought was cold, and sank into his bones like a lead weight.

Through the open window, the smell of lilacs still stirred in the night.

Vimes went down and got the cocoa himself, before he dragged his chair around the side of the desk and began to talk.

He wasn’t expecting the hanky back, in any case.

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It was nearing eleven o’clock by the time that Vimes dragged himself back to Scoone Avenue, waving off Carrot’s offer of an escort even though he occasionally saw a flash of golden fur in the corner of his eye – the good one, not the right one. That would be permanent, he thought tiredly. A lot of things that had happened in the past few days felt like they were swimming in a sea of then and now, and the thens and nows were all muddled together and swapped places when they felt like having a change of scenery.  Despite the past’s habit of catching up to the present it mostly stayed where it should be, but the scar…

Vimes hadn’t come away with anything permanent the first time, unless you counted the little invisible cuts and bruises that people carried around in their heads. But now, when he’d been thrust back to where he shouldn’t have been (should have been?), he came away with a cut down the right side of his face and an eye that struggled to open when he took the bandage off. Sybil had already fussed over it but had been too exhausted to question why it looked days old, but he knew he’d have to explain, when morning came and Mossy moseyed over to check on her and then redress a laceration he’d last seen thirty years ago. He’d have to explain anyway, because there was no way he would keep this from her. She knew the bits and bobs about the People’s Revolution; he’d told her the outline of it, when they’d first had their understanding and he dragged himself out of the slurry of alcoholic haze to expound the importance of a silly little flower that a very tiny population of people wore on one day a year. She had only been fifteen at the time of the conflict, and well out of it, but she’d heard the twisted politics in hazy smoking rooms, listening with a quiet ear while rich people guffawed and shook their heads. But Sam Vimes as a man wasn’t one for many sentimental gestures, and when one of the few details of his pre-alcoholic life emerged she paid attention.

The detail was bigger now, and had left significantly more visible marks. The horrors of the past now had doubled, viewed from a slightly higher angle, and Vimes still wouldn’t take a single moment back.

Detritus was still looming in the bedroom corridor as Vimes trudged upstairs, nodding to him as he drank heavily from a steaming, oversized thermos. For all that Detritus could look like the city’s most menacing hunk of conglomerates, he had a soft spot toward kids, and Vimes had already caught him cooing over the bassinet.

The room was well-lit despite the late hour, with Sybil snoring on her side of the bed, the lace-encrusted basket close at hand. Vimes nodded to Constable Pediment, keeping watch from the window, and went to soak himself in the tub before he got blood on the pillows again.

He’d have to talk to Fred, too. He’d probably have to talk to Rosie Palm as well, and oh gods, Reg Shoe, and looking Captain Quirke of the Day Watch in the eye promised to be an interesting experience.

But those would be issues for the next day, even as fast as it was approaching, and so as the Glorious Twenty-Fifth of May turned into the more Ho-Hum Twenty-Sixth of May, Sam Vimes – and John Keel – went to rest.

[aroaceleovaldez]

What type of powers/personality(?) you think children of Cloud Nymphs would have? (Planning to make an oc who’s the child of a cloud nymph)

I actually have an oc who's a child of a cloud nymph! Cade! (link to his tag on deadangelos here and link to his wip wiki page here)

I'm a bit light with how much nymph parentage influences their kids, since in Greco-Roman mythology nymphs are more or less functionally human or minor gods/daimons, depending on situation.

For Cade, I did think it'd be fun if he got cloud-like/misty hair when his hair is grown out or when he's older, kind of a la Zeus in Hades game.

^ Hadesgame Zeus for comparison, lol.

My friend also has a child of Persephone from our old rp who cameos on Deadangelos (with tweaked godly parentage), and one of her major design things is that she has flower petals in her hair, so we've kicked around the idea of her Deadangelos iteration being the child of a nymph/dryad a bit.

So appearance-wise, generally I think it's fun to have nymph characters with some kind of visual indication of that, and I'm always a huge fan of nonhuman-appearing demigods. Powers-wise, I think they'd generally have a slightly weaker version of whatever their parents' primary ability is (presuming we're having a nymph parent function a la godly parents) - so like, a cloud nymph kid might have some control over forming small clouds or fog and mist, or a dryad kid might have some control over whatever plant their parent is, and both would have general better connections to those sorts of elements than most demigods. Maybe also just general minor stat boosts, like a aurae kid being stronger or more steady under windy/rainy conditions, or a dryad kid getting bonus energy from the sun.

Personality-wise: I don't usually use divine heritage as a major theme for personality basis, just personally. I might use it for like, overarching themes or some interests/hobbies but I don't like to restrict myself too much with that, just cause I think it's fun to get funky with it. Overarching themes-wise though, for nymph kids, them having a great deal of interest in/care for ecology is a given. For a cloud nymph/aurae kid specifically, meteorology interest is a definite possibility. If you want to lean more into cloud jokes - them being broody/constantly grumpy (jokes about stormclouds hanging over people), them being a daydreamer/spacey (head in the clouds), being an air-head (joke self-explanatory). Honestly just getting into the weeds with cloud puns is probably a good basis to start from for personality inspo. Goodness knows most characters in PJO have a pun to them somewhere in there.

[calamari-minecraft-corner]

you are so down bad for these block men /pos... tell me more

DHDJSKSKSJ LISTEN- WHEN THE HORRORS HAPPEN I GO DOWN HARDER FOR THE BLOCK MEN TO COPE— /lh /aff

And more u say? 👀 *brings out my book of prisontrio sins*

-

Listen- I’ve said it before but Con!Cala has the unintentional rizz- she doesn’t mean to flirt but it happens because she doesn’t realize what she’s saying or implying sometimes. But that being said it goes OVER her head a lot when people flirt to her.

So like- c!Quackity immediately trying to flirt with her and she’s taking it at face value and being her innocent lovely self- and it is funny trust me it is.

Like something along the lines of “maybe I should give you a private lesson on how to play poker sometime ;)” and her innocently replying “Oh! That’ll help a lot actually! I’ve always wanted to play poker! My favorite part of it is the colorful chips I see on the table-“ and she would ramble on how she used to see her dad playing poker and how she would play with the chips a lot when she was younger—

It’s really funny to be honest especially when he’s so Obviously trying to flirt but it goes over her silly head

c!Sam my beloved— motherfucker would loom so much over Cala. Like you think Dream looms over her a lot? Think again. Look at the height comparison:

Like he fucking SHADOWS over her.

And Cala wouldn’t mind!!! Because she just think he’s being protective and likes hanging around her. Which it’s true!! But he’s also just like- having his own moment of “this is an absolute pure being and I need to protect her at all costs”. And he just follows her basically everywhere. And Cala would just show him a lot of things and everything, similar to like how she does to Dream in the con au— and in a way he would have this moment of realizing that she’s just like him if things were different, and I think that’s why he’s latching onto her so much. He would have his moment of “I shouldn’t let her and Dream stay together too long because what if he destroys this one innocent thing”- like his skewed perception of the two would be really interesting.

Now for the prison man himself, Dream— At first in the con au he’s very wary of Cala but he realizes so fast that she’s not a threat and probably the most helpful person he’s had in a while. So he really doesn’t leave her side much or at all. I feel like that habit would stay a lot unintentionally. So if they’re ever apart and he’s not with his friends or Techno he gets on edge since he’s just “where is Cala-“ since she’s very small and can get lost easily and because that’s a safe person now. He just curls around her like a cat a lot of times honestly— and he does not like when Quackity and Sam try to get close to her for obvious reasons. Everyone else is mostly fine, but he’s just very wary on it. He knows that look in Sam’s eye since he’s seen that look when he looks at him- and Quackity well, he would fucking slaughter him if there is even a scratch on her. He doesn’t stop her from interacting with them but the second they try something he steps in to steer the conversation. It’s the thing of “if she wasn’t in the way I would kill you both for good-“

-

I Have a lot of feelings on them since they’re rotating in my head atm so please have more asks/suggestions/scenarios HDJSSKSKSK

[redladydeath]

Re: https://www.tumblr.com/redladydeath/767556852141719552/one-particularly-dehumanizing-experience-vox

I read this! Might’ve done an adhd-skim in some places so apologies if you already covered things and my eyes slip-slided over it

- Proto Vox’s design looks like it has bug motifs, (I know your protovox isn’t bug themed though but hang in there) and current Vox has shark motifs— just another way he modified himself—> he moved himself from the bottom to the top of the food chain

I can see Alastor maybe thinking that’s a bit rude of him. First he’s taller than him, (they see eye to eye) now he’s a top-of-the-pyramid predator, the biggest fish in the pond. Alastor would think that a roach has merits- they survive just about anything, they’re the last man standing and cause huge screams and terror in comparison to their small size.

- Vox being an entertaining pet for that overlord, not wanting to be carried around and manhandled— Alastor seems like he values bodily autonomy, and not wanting to be touched if you don’t want to be— that might’ve resonated with him too when they first met.

- Radio essentially lived off of advertising, so if Vox was a good ad reader or jingle composer then he’d also be a great business asset for Alastor as well.

- Vox might’ve been able to start broadcasting himself on his self-produced tv shows but only in close-up, so nobody would see that he was actually small

——

Gonna share my hc just for kicks- i hc Vox as sales-based: I think Vox would’ve been a great door to door salesman, before landing an advertising gig and later tv. If he had the charisma to convince every house on the block to buy overpriced encyclopaedias or a toaster, then with enough reach he’d have a career of convincing thousands of people to buy anything, trust everything he says, which carried over as a power when he died.

— —

It’s kind of hilarious/terrifying that at one time, Alastor was possibly the top tech overlord in Hell. (Excluding Industrial/manufacturing/factory technology.) the 20s and 30s were quite tech-forward- everyone wanting kitchen appliances, refrigerators, telephones, long distance comms, radio, sound recording equipment, faster cars, boats, planes, etc etc. Snazzy jazzy. then the era’s optimism speed and crashed into the brick wall of the Great Depression/wwii I can easily see Alastor being immediately interested/intrigued by television when they met

Oh, I'm glad you liked the post!

Yeah, I can see Alastor giving that roach speech to Vox when he's trying to convince him to stop modifying himself. Vox is just like "You think I'm a bug???" He never noticed; he was too focused on the cartoon/TV thing. Message not received.

-

Alastor probably has weird feelings about the way Vox's old boss treated him. On one hand, it's kind of funny, and Alastor's clearly not opposed to treating people like pets given his later relationship with Husk. On the other... he feels a weird sort of kinship with Vox in so many regards, and his relationship with his overlord... [leak discussion] it's uncomfortably similar to Alastor's with his contract holder– tricked into a bad deal, treated with condescension, and forced to pretend to adore them in public. Alastor likes the idea of helping Vox gain power and rise above his station, but not him changing himself in order to accomplish that goal– he sees too much of himself in Vox to stand that.

-

Vox doing ad reads/voice overs for Alastor's show is a great idea. Perfect way to get back into the industry without opening himself up to mockery, plus he's got a wonderful voice. Would also give him another reason to hate radio once he and Al split: audio-only work will always a reminder of a time when he couldn't bear to be seen.

-

Sdfghgfdfghjhg, that close-up idea is making me think of Chet Ubetcha. Kinda similar vibes to Vox, ngl.

-

The idea of Vox getting his start as a door-to-door salesman is good! Might incorporate that into my backstory for him (although my version of him lowkey went directly from high school to college to military service to family life/TV work, so there might not be time (maybe during college or that year in between WWII and getting married...)).

[the-wayside]

Bippity boppity boo. I can't really stay out of this little universe. Also when I said no character death, I mean no character death. Just pain.

the memories of you, excerpt 5.

Previous part

No one questions why Porsche sits on the couch at the end of Kinn’s hospital bed like Cerberus in Tartarus, his eyes tracking the movement of everyone who comes to see him. Tankhun pokes fun at him in his own way, joking about his rigidity but he gives Porsche a look and a pause before he leaves that tells Porsche that he appreciates that he’s watching over his brother. Kim and Chay come together, Kim standing awkwardly as Kinn lays motionless and various drips hanging from a metal pole next to his bed. He looks lost but not in any tangible way that anyone but those who know and truly know him would see. Kim nods and Chay gives him a hug around his shoulders that he doesn’t return because it would detract him from his task, whispering in his ear, “It’ll be okay, Hia.”

Kinn’s father quietly asks for a report, which Porsche gives him, outlining what had occurred prior to how Kinn had foolishly chosen to save his life over his own. Porsche feels that look on the side of his face, examining him, trying to see what worth Kinn found in him to choose to do what he did. He, as always, gets the feeling he is lacking.

He doesn’t ask where Tawan is, his name isn’t on the approved list Korn had given him and he isn’t going to be the one to add it.

“Take care of my son,” Korn tells him as he leaves and it is in no uncertain times that should it be required, he must die to save Kinn. He accepts the knock because he doesn’t disagree.

People come and go but he remains.

It gets to after visiting hours and it’s an ambitious nurse trying to tell Porsche he can’t stay that gets him puts his hand on his gun that Pol brought him when he brought him a change of clothes and his computer to work on, so he’s left where he is. He has two bodyguards on the door and three monitoring the entry and exit points, so they should have known that it isn’t going to fly.

He puts on his comfy clothes, a pair of straight jeans and a t-shirt with his converse and he types away, one eye on the steady rise and fall of Kinn’s chest.

He writes his formal reports, admits his faults, and makes his recommendations for future events. Pete will review and make his comments in the morning as Porsche’s backstop. Folding the lid closed, there is nothing left to do but wait. The doctors told Kinn’s father that his gunshot wound was non-life threatening and his body was trying to heal and there was nothing to do but let him decide when he was ready to wake up.

Porsche looks at the door, almost like a naughty child, before he sits in the chair next to Kinn’s bed, his pale hand laying by his side and his long eyelashes a dark sweep against his cheeks.

He looks small in comparison to his personality. Kinn isn’t loud or brash like Porsche, instead, he dominates with his presence but even that isn’t what he thinks of when he thinks of Kinn. He thinks of the big wide smiles that he hides behind books or turning around because he doesn’t want people to see them. He thinks about when Kinn walked back into the compound at twenty-three, face impassive and spreading into his best smile when he saw Porsche, lighting up not only his face but Porsche’s.

Porsche doesn’t want to admit that he felt it then. The trickle of a feeling that he knows he should never have felt. It was hidden in the depths of his pride as Kinn walked over to him, hair slicked back off his face and his body strong under his suit. He was a man, but he was also a man. Porsche walked him back up to his suite and Kinn had waited for him to come inside like they were old friends seeing each other after such a long time. The confidence was so easy to be intoxicated by because Porsche was finally seeing the person Kinn was supposed to be, outside of the compound, outside of his father’s influence, and he looked good. Amazing. Magnetizing.

They stand somewhat awkwardly staring at each other because this terrain is new. Kinn wipes his finger over his bar with a fond look on his face of someone coming home to their parent’s house for a visit rather than home to his own place.

Porsche doesn’t know how to act. His place was always one of protection and structure, but Kinn now engulfs his frame with his own. He saw it as Kinn approached him and offered his hand to shake like a consummate businessman. His palm was warm and dry, with the right level of strength without overcompensating. Porsche felt his stomach drop in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. The clear and open signal: oh, he’s handsome, but not in the objective bypassing way, in the entirely subjective to Porsche’s very specific preferences kind of way. Like, he would have tried to pick him up in a bar kind of way and it throws him because Kinn isn’t that for him. Kinn is small and sweet, easily tucked into Porsche’s pocket. So, he immediately took the feeling and chucked it out as far as he could.  

“You have a few grey hairs,” Kinn points out with amusement, and Porsche huffs from where he’s stood, legs slightly apart, arms behind his back, bodyguard stance. “Come in, this isn’t a debrief.”

“I’m ten years older than you, if I didn’t have a few grey hairs, I’d expect you to get out garlic and a stake,” Porsche jokes as he relaxes. He doesn’t make his way further into the room, just relaxes his stance until Kinn comes back over to him and stands in front of Porsche.

They look at each other for a good minute or so, Porsche wonders how many extra smile lines or crow’s feet he has in comparison but he also can’t stop looking at how Kinn’s eyes sparkle. He looks so much brighter than when Porsche saw him last.

“You look strong,” Porsche tells him and Kinn closes his eyes with an almost bashful smile.

“I figured I needed to listen and bulk up,” Kinn opens his eyes and his amusement is plain again.

“Must have taken a lot to build this up,” Porsche glances down and appraises Kinn openly. “All functional?”

“Of course, pushing to get that 350lb bench press, but I’m not religious with it.”

Porsche thinks that’s bullshit. Kinn is the most regimented person he knows.

“Let me know how it goes,” Porsche tells him because he’s interested in knowing but the conversation naturally ends and Kinn doesn’t attempt to pick it up with something else so they’re left looking at each other, Porsche into familiar brown eyes that remind him of someone much younger and the problem that led to this distance.

Kinn’s eyes flick down to his lips and Porsche follows him. It’s intentional, Kinn grew up in this house, and he knows how to hide his emotions, but he lets his face show open wanting: his eyes get hooded, his mouth drops open a little and his breathing slows. Porsche thinks he’s going to be kissed, so he steps back, breaking the spell.

Kinn looks at him, his face now indescribable. A son of the family.

For his part, Porsche feels relieved because Kinn had reasserted that jumble of feelings in his stomach that he can’t disentangle. He knows that if Kinn had kissed him in that moment, he would have let him and he can’t explain why.

Actually, he can, but he can’t be that person. He can’t be the person who abused his position, no matter how much time has passed.

“Kinn—”

Kinn’s shuttered expression hurts in a way Porsche didn’t know it could, “Porsche, maybe it is better that we have a debrief.”

He feels restless and useless in this hospital room. He holds Kinn’s hand because the warmth of it reminds him that he’s okay. He’s alive. The beeping of his heart monitor becomes the music Porsche listens to as he puts his head on Kinn’s stomach and feels Kinn’s heartbeat through the press of his ear.

He’s so well used. Like a thoroughbred racehorse, he’s lying on his back in Kinn’s bed, his breaths coming in pants as he laughs and Kinn tucks up the sheet around his waist. Everything hurts and aches in the best way possible and he can’t help but let his legs splay openly and Kinn’s hand rests on the inside of his thigh, sliding up and pulling little shivers out of Porsche.

Porsche looks over at Kinn and his expression is raw like everything took all his walls down and all that’s left is the person he used to be. Porsche cups his face and Kinn leans down and kisses him, slow and thoroughly, till Porsche’s lips are tingling and sore and he’s leaking little noises even though they won’t amount to anything because of how wrung out he is.

Kinn lets him go and kisses the tip of his nose, “I missed you.”

Reality crashes in on him. The years and space collapse on themselves and suddenly Kinn is eighteen again. Kinn doesn’t notice the change, but overwhelmed, Porsche kisses him back, dragging Kinn across his chest until he’s forced to reshuffle so that he’s lying between Porsche’s thighs and giving and taking all the kisses he wants. Tears prick up behind his eyes and he pretends. For a whole moment, he pretends this could be something and it’s perfect.

“I’m sorry, Kinn,” Porsche breathes, “For all of it, but I’m most sorry I hurt you.”

The machines beep and Kinn breathes, but nothing changes.

“It’s hard because I see who you were and I can’t—” He doesn’t know how to phrase it, “But we’re not those people. I’m not your father, your uncle, or your cousins. I never was. But you trusted me to be there and take care of you.”

He tries his hardest to impart what he’s trying to say, saying more words than he’s ever said on the matter, “I wish I’d met you a different way. Maybe in a bar, hell even the alleyway of a bar, and you were you and I was me. We’d’ve been perfect for each other.”

“But now, you’re the person I love, and I think I’m the person you love,” Porsche wipes his face but he knows some of his tears are wetting Kinn’s blanket. “And it won’t change.”

“I know I’m the problem, but can you please—” He takes a big gulping breath, “can you please wake up and help me figure it out? How to take out this ugly feeling in my chest until it’s just you?”

He knows he’s talking to himself and Kinn is still sleeping but he squeezes his hand tightly and hopes that somewhere in there he can hear Porsche speak to him.

“Wake up, Little Dragon, I need you.”

It feels blasphemous to say, but he does. Porsche can’t do it on his own and he’s never known how to let anyone in to try.

He cries and wipes his face and then dozes on Kinn’s stomach until the nurse comes in to take his late-night obs and he moves to the fancy pull-out couch he doesn’t bother to open and sleeps with his hands crossed on his chest and his feet hanging off the end.

When he wakes up, Kinn is sitting up looking at him with tired but oh-so-familiar brown eyes.

[revvnant]

when did mike's pyromania first manifest, and did it cause him problems in his youth (i.e setting fires and getting in trouble for it)

so first off i'm probably not going to say anything that's new to you sidney, but for people who aren't into it, pyromania / pathological fire setting is not super well defined or understood by medicine; it's a very broad term that covers a lot of conditions that cause fire setting. i've seen definitions that exclude mania and psychotic episodes, but treatment designed around both, and literature that draws close links between the latter and pathological fire setting specifically. i'm not gonna get into the evaluation part of it because i'm still doing research, but just to preface, i'm drawing partially from what's focused on in the four factor fire scale / firesetting questionnaire. u of kent's recent research on this is generally publicly available.

so i don't know that i would even technically class michael as a pathological fire starter, in that it's not the most prominent of his issues and the fires we see him set seem to be well-thought-out and intentional. that said, he strongly hits the 'personal identification with fire' aspect of the scale. i just want to draw a distinction between like... fire being mike's preferred m.o. being a headcanon of mine, and me using canon to say that he's a pathological fire setter. i don't think his two known instances of setting fires / participating in setting fires constitute compulsive or pathological acts in and of themselves, as they simply make sense on their own for getting rid of an offensive building and The Killer. because we get so little for michael in fnaf, i choose to connect him with fire, and i also think it's a double-edged sword — he's highly flammable and fire can permanently kill him, so he can't just do whatever with it; so the compulsions i think he has are tempered by fear of accidentally melting or self-immolating. i think that's an extra factor that other fire setters usually don't share, created by the supernatural elements present in the story.

moving on to my actual headcanons, i think he had a childhood fascination with fire spurred in part by other people making comparisons for him — hotheaded, hot-tempered, short fuse, firebrand, etc. it worked its way into his psychology and first manifested as sneaking cigarettes. he enjoyed lighting them, watching them burn out, the smell of smoke, and the sensation of smoking them ( specifically the sort of acrid taste and feeling in the mouth and lungs ). he grew to like putting them out as well, and the small fires he could start by doing so. i already believe he liked to hang out at the dump ( this is an it / donnie darko reference, we must have our 80s representation ), so it provided him with ample opportunity to start lots of small scale fires. it never escalated past that; he never set fires at school, for example, though he may have been tempted to. he also never set them at work, because electrical fires are sort of a different beast to him and william drilled into his head how dangerous those are. his pride as a mechanic prevents him from setting them. at home, he channels it by being in charge of cooking and the fireplace and is usually satisfied by the flames on the stove.

writing this out has me like wow this is actually his best-managed issue. he has so much going on with his temper and physical altercations that he doesn't really have room for arson. his go-to is always punching and he's psychotic and terrified of going to jail, so it never escalates to revenge fires. but i think he deeply emotionally connects with fire in a few different ways:

the act of destruction. it is cathartic for him to watch something be reduced to nothing, specifically by burning. sparks and ashes appeal to him. contrast with william's affinity for bones and blood as a means of disposal; michael definitely has these as a motif, and is an eleven on the body horror scale of course, but in terms of what he likes, he would see fire as vastly preferable to getting crunched in an animatronic. he acknowledges that it is probably immensely painful and an awful way to go, but on a psychological level, he sees it as less messy and more permanent than other forms of physical trauma.

heat and unpredictability. the way that fire moves and spreads and soaks up oxygen and repels people from it feels very personal to michael. i often describe him as having burning synapses, or a mind on fire, because i think that's how he experiences his own psychosis. his neural forest is being razed. he experiences internal activation and discomfort as heat and dryness, and so when he sees fire, that feels like an externalisation of his feelings. as someone who is kind of shit at expressing himself in a healthy way, fire becomes a sort of shortcut for having to convey distress.

control. as a person with minimal control over his own life, setting a fire is an act of rebellion and an assertion of power. because what the fuck are they going to do about it? he decides what gets destroyed ( to a degree ), he makes it happen, he has the lighter and he can threaten to drop it at any moment. and what he burns is, well, burned. that's extensive damage that's going to be around for a while. it's going to have a psychological and monetary cost to fix. it's going to scar. the damage has to be acknowledged in some way — in a way that the damage being done to michael rarely is. it is an extremely effective way of forcing people to listen to him.

this has gotten long but. basically. no he didn't get in trouble because he was too busy getting in trouble for things like brother murder and assaulting customers, and that cycle didn't often leave room for things like setting fires either as attention seeking or vengeful behaviour. instead it mostly manifested as self-soothing. i think he burned his hands on the stove and oven a lot semi-intentionally. i think his friends were very worried about the dump fires. i think that, while the fright and simulator fires make sense outside of mike being into arson, they also serve as a manifestation of his feelings, the ultimate impossible-to-ignore fuck you, this is how i feel ( fright ) and fuck you, these things are gone forever and you can't hurt them anymore ( simulator ). they made him feel powerful. he just needs to be careful because he's 2x weak to fire.

[ultramagicalternate]

ULTRAMagic Interval Chapter 5

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At around 9 o’clock, Will looked away from the window. “Hey, Adrien? Are we going to stop at a motel or inn soon?”

“Nope.”

“Eh?”

“This is an emergency situation. We’re not stopping until we get to M.A.I.G.” He then realized the elephant in the room. “Well, excluding stops for me to grab some coffee here and there. I definitely recommend going to the bathroom when we stop for those.”

“Oh boy, gas station restrooms…” Sam cheekily remarked.

Buster had a moment of nostalgia. “To be fair, only a quarter of public bathrooms I’ve ever used were legitimately that dirty.”

Sam nodded. “Hey, Adrien? Can we get some snacks along the way?”

“I don’t see why not, just make sure you brush your teeth at some point.”

Will groaned. “Dang it, I brushed my teeth before we left and now I’m craving one of those mini chocolate pies…”

Adrien chuckled. “Save it for when you get to M.A.I.G. so you can microwave it.”

“Will, you realize those aren’t good for you, right?” Olivia questioned.

“I know, but I haven’t had one in ages.”

Faustus got out a notepad and started writing something down. “Chocolate pies, I’m sure Mira would love to try making those…”

Will went back to looking out the window, watching everything pass by. The trip was a little boring all things considered, but that monotony was preferable to dealing with Bethany. In truth the journey brought him back to his childhood, reminding him of trips to his grandparents house or an amusement park. It was an odd feeling, but it made him feel good regardless. Eventually Adrien pulled the van into a gas station parking lot. The accompanying store was fairly active and advertised fresh coffee in the windows.

The Steel Cat van did not need gas as it ran off of a miniature particle collider. This was the standard for the majority of Liger Brigade vehicles. Adrien got a kick out of telling people about it, given that they were always amazed. There were usually concerns about black holes forming, but Adrien assured them that serious singularities were unlikely due to the colliders paling in comparison to the collapse of actual stars. After getting his coffee and picking up some DVDs and snacks, Adrien returned to the van.

“Bad news: This coffee could be a lot better. Good news: the store had some movies we could watch” he announced.

Sam took the cases. “Oh wow, awesome. Wait, this van has a DVD player?”

Adrien nodded as he started the vehicle. “Well actually it’s a universal disc player used for relaying intel, but we can use it for movies. Antares won’t mind. The player’s in with the radio and whatnot.”

“Here you go then, Boyo,” Sam said as she handed the cases to Will in the front seat.

Will took a second to figure out what he was doing, followed by a display lowering from the ceiling. “Nice, but isn’t that kind of small?”

Olivia pressed a button next to her on the wall, causing another display to fold out from the ceiling in front of her. “Each seat has its own display just in case the visuals of the media are important.”

The movie they watched was a quirky, animated, western comedy that they all enjoyed. It definitely helped make the ride go a lot quicker. Sam was as happy as a clam, given that portable DVD players were mandatory for her childhood roadtrips. All of it was a nice distraction from the circumstances that prompted the current journey.

At around 1 o’clock, everyone was starting to doze off, barring Adrien and Faustus. The fire devil was a bit bored, so he went to the front of the van and quietly talked to Adrien about this and that. Finding out he was actually half-oni half-spider deity was quite fascinating. Naturally Adrien was also curious about the time when Faustus first met Will. While it would have been nice for Will to listen in, he had fallen asleep.

Mayhem had been hanging out with Dr. Reynard Woodall and Trumna Wintergate at M.A.I.G. headquarters. The former was the lead scientist and the latter was the current head of the organization. Everyone was surprised when Mayhem just appeared out of nowhere, but he quickly produced the letter Adrien had written for him. It was around 2 in the morning when Adrien verified he was nearing the base.

Reynard was making his way through the busy halls of M.A.I.G. to garage 11A, being followed by Mayhem and his dog, Hannah. The lead scientist was upright and radiated charm and positivity. His gray business suit was neat and tidy, his light brown hair was well kept, and he had put on a new pair of professional-looking sunglasses. Even though the employees were a little tired this late at night, they immediately perked up when Reynard walked by, stopping what they were doing to greet him. They also gave Hannah some pets that she greatly appreciated.

“Curiously, where did you get Hannah, Doctor?” Mayhem inquired.

“She was a security dog who started winding down at age 11, then retired at 13. Personally I really like Shepherds and took a fancy to her.”

“I see. She’s quite vigorous for a dog her age.” Hannah gave a happy bark in response.

Reynard chuckled. “Guard dogs have to be kept pretty healthy, but I’ve also been slipping a little magic into her food here and there.”

“Ah, indeed. I can’t fault you there, but do you plan to keep doing this?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to make it so she can live with me forever. Keep this on the down-low though.”

They then approached the entrance to the garage where a guard saluted them. “Dr. Reynard!”

“Top of the morning to you, Howards.”

The guard then quickly entered a password into a keypad, causing the door to open. “You’re clear to enter.”

The three stepped into the massive garage and were greeted by fluorescent lights, the smell of car oil, and the sound of machines being worked on. It appeared that some of M.A.I.G.’s vehicles needed some late night maintenance. The Steel Cat van then pulled in, causing some of the mechanics to pause what they were doing to see what was up. After a moment of Adrien waking up his passengers, they all got out and made their way to the catwalk up against the wall of the garage.

“Welcome to M.A.I.G., everyone!” Reynard said with a clap. The group gave somewhat drowsy greetings. “Don’t worry, we’ve already got sleeping arrangements set up for all of you. Sam, Will, come with me.” He then snapped a few times for one of the guards to come over. “Meyers, could you escort Adrien, Buster, and Olivia to their quarters?”

“Yes sir.” The three followed him out of the garage, thanking Reynard on the way out.

“Everything go alright, Faustus?” Mayhem asked.

He yawned. “Swimmingly. Not a single hitch.”

“You two are free to roam if you want,” said Reynard. “Just remember that this is technically a military base. And Umuka should be in lounge 2B, assuming he’s not out exploring.”

Faustus nodded. “Right. I’m curious to see if he’s found out anything.”

“Then follow me, my friend,” Mayhem replied as they wandered off.

Sam was petting Hannah. “Who’s a good girl…”

“That’s Hannah,” Reynard pointed out. “She’s a retired guard dog I took in.”

Will smiled and also gave her a pet. “Great to be here, Dr. Reynard” he said with a yawn, causing Sam to yawn too.

“I’d dare say you two need to get back to bed…”

Reynard took them to his living quarters. It differed from the utilitarian nature of the base, being comparable to a full blown house. It was a mix of 1920s and mid 2000s home design with an emphasis on the art deco aesthetic. Will and Sam were shown to one of the guest rooms where there was a nice, comfy, queen-sized bed for them. Normally they would have stayed up a little bit to talk about their new surroundings, but the couple immediately fell asleep once they were comfortable.

WIll and Sam woke up at around 8 in the morning and felt weird. They needed a moment to process where they were. Once the pleasing atmosphere set in, they got up and went to clean up a little in the side bathroom. Once ready, they left the guest room, being greeted by the smell of pancakes and bacon.

“Hey, you’re just in time for breakfast,” Reynard said as they approached the kitchen, taking a seat at the island countertop.

Will looked at the shiny counter for a second, the morning sun gleaming off of it. “Good morning, Dr. Reynard. Thanks for the food.”

“No problem, you two. I figured I might as well since Jack and Mary are also here. Speaking of which…” he whistled for the two in question. Hannah immediately walked up to him. “No, not you. You already have your food, you little stinker.” This made Sam and Will laugh.

Coming down the stairs was a muscular, brown-haired man who was handsome in a modest way. He was wearing a casual M.A.I.G. uniform and went right over to Will. “Hey, it’s the weatherman!” he said as he put his arm around him and ruffled his hair.

Will laughed incredulously. “Jack, please don’t call me that…”

“Jackson, what did I say about picking on Will?” Reynard chided.

“Aw come on, it’s all in good fun” he said as he sat down next to him.

“It’s because I get nervous over thunderstorms,” Will said to Sam. “Oh, Jack, this is my girlfriend, Sam.”

Jackson reached around the back of Will. “Pleasure to meet you, babe.”

“Er, yeah, you too…” Sam replied as she nervously shook his hand.

Reynard sighed. “Don’t let his demeanor fool you, he’s one of our best agents.”

“Oh, neat…” she replied, secretly a little skeptical.

Someone else came down the stairs. This time it was a woman in a 1920s tuxedo. She had green eyes and reddish-brown hair in a charleston-style bob cut. What stood out to Sam was that she appeared to be a living cartoon… in the sense that they were all witnessing an animated character in the third dimension. Sam did her best not to stare, but it was driving her nuts.

“Good morning, dad!”

“Morning, Mary,” Reynard replied. “Will’s here, safe and sound.”

“Excellent. Good to see you again, Will,” Mary said as she shook his hand.

“Hey, Mary. Sam, this is…”

“Boyo, no offense, but what am I even looking at here?”

The other three were confused, but then they put it together. “Right, this is your first time meeting her…” Will realized.

Reynard cleared his throat. “Sam, this is Mary Pickford, my daughter. She’s a… she’s a second dimensional entity who became third dimensional. Back in the 20s I was showing an animated film to some friends at a speakeasy when she just walked right out of the film itself. It got a little strange when she just seamlessly blended into the party, ha. I’ve been looking after her ever since.”

That was strange to hear, but Sam accepted it. “Oh, well nice to meet you, Mary.”

“You too, Samantha. I must say you are very pretty.”

Sam blushed. “Thank you.”

“While she’s not an agent for M.A.I.G., she helps us out as a bounty hunter that takes on special cases for us,” Reynard stated.

“A bounty hunter?” Sam questioned.

“Like she’s an actual mercenary, not one of those second hand cops you see on TV,” Jackson answered.

Mary looked a bit proud over that. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. I primarily specialize in digging up intel and dealing with behind the scenes threats. Naturally dad wants me to see what I can find out about what’s going on right now.” She then sat down next to Sam. “Oh, Will, you won’t have to worry about Shark. I sent him on an all expenses-paid trip to the Bahamas…”

Jackson banged the countertop. “Aw come on! It’s so much fun when he’s around!”

“NO,” Mary shot back. “This is shaping up to be a sensitive situation and I’m not going to have that hooligan around messing things up.”

“While his abilities would be a boon to us, I’m going to have to side with Mary on this one,” Reynard added. “Sorry, Jack.”

“Shark?” Sam asked Will.

“Shark-X. He’s another bounty hunter who has a weird fixation with me. He’s also a clone of someone, with heavy shark DNA inside him. You can see why I never told you about it.”

“Ah, classified stuff?”

Will nodded. “Big time.”

“Jeez, just what do you get up to, Boyo? You’re not seeing other girls, are you?”

“Absolutely not!”

Mary giggled. “He’s said a lot of good things about you, Sam.”

“He’s even had a couple of lovely ladies put the moves on him, only for them to be disappointed when he talks about you” Jackson continued.

Sam was amazed. “Maybe I should join M.A.I.G. or something, so I can go on these adventures with you, Boyo.”

Reynard snapped his fingers. “Hey, we’d love to have you if you think you got the stuff for it. Ellen’s been speaking highly of you, Sam.” He then began serving food. “At 1 o’clock there’s going to be a meeting hosted by Trumna where we’ll tell you guys about what we know so far.”

“Good, good,” Sam replied as she began cutting into her pancakes. “I’ve been worried sick for Will.”

Jackson chuckled. “I hate to say it, but this isn't the first time Will’s been in danger, and it won’t be the last.” That was not the most reassuring statement…

Next: Chapter 6

ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)

[bookofbolden]

[pm] [user is totally getting emotional right now] Regan, you not only helped me with the book but you also agreed to let me include you in the acknowledgements, remember? I like to think that we may have become [...] friends during all of this. My book is very special to me which is why I wanted to share that it was finished with someone I consider special like yourself. I will have the greatest fanbase of any author I know so long as you're a stan of mine. I'm a fan of yours too and whatever you decide to do whether it be autopsies, writing a book, or collecting road kill. I support you.

Oh, Charlie is a rockstar! He's a friend of mine and plays guitar and writes music. I've never heard him actually perform but he has the look of someone who knows what they're doing so I bet he's great. You should meet him, he's really nice. Actually, I would think if anyone around here was able to get in touch with a musician it would be him. [user sends screenshot of Charlie's profile]

You mean like a party? I would love that! I would want to keep it a little small though, if that's alright with you. I get easily overwhelmed whenever there's a lot of people around but I know of a few that I would love to invite. I actually have this tradition of drinking really fancy and expensive wine whenever I've finished a project, maybe we can all crack open a bottle together at this social event.

Puppies are great too! Live ones, that is. I grew up around a lot of dogs but I was just always able to bond with the cats better. I do want one, very badly. Maybe now is the perfect time to try and adopt one since I have a lot of free time on my hands and can dedicate it all to giving a new pet my full attention. The cat that hangs out around my apartment is all black with the most adorable eyes, I would love to have him but I won't force it. If he decides to trust me one day then that will make me the happiest woman alive.

Yes! I've been writing stories since I was a child and I couldn't imagine doing anything else, except maybe being an English teacher, but even that paled in comparison to the thought of publishing my own books. I was willing to suffer for a little while in order to make my dreams come true. My parents offered me all the help in the world but it was something I wanted to accomplish on my own. I guess you could say that I was a little stubborn about it. But look at me now! I think it all paid off in the end.

No deaths, perfect. That's just up my alley. I am a little concerned that only two of the town's bars were able to make the list, though.

They're all yours once I'm gone. Hopefully you'll find that they're in great condition.

[pm] Why not? Because I'm not – I'm not allowed – we can't be [user realizes she has zero excuses now] Interactions like ours used to be a rarity in my life. It was unexpected, and I thought there might be someone else you would wish to share something that special with. Because it is special, yes? Like allowing someone else to approach and handle the remains of albino rabbit you found in the road. [user misses wynne] I, um, will inform others I know about your impending novel, and I would be honored to review it. Consider me your... stan. I am your fanbase.

I do not provide verbal lubrication, and I do not ask for favors. If someone should be doing what I ask of them, then they should do it without complaint or delay. Who is Charlie? A sibling? [user searches for charlie rae jepson but finds nothing; also, user literally asked charlie to bring carly but doesn't realize this] I know Bill Nye from my childhood, too... I think my teachers might have done that. Difficult to remember.

You wont disappoint me, and I don't see how others could be disappointed, either. We could... socialize. Me, you, Jade, and anyone else important to you. To celebrate your book's release. Is that something you do?

Your opinion seems to be a common sentiment, even if I can't understand it. I was told I once wanted a puppy, but I don't remember wanting that. A new scalpel or a fine sweater seem just as but I didn't grow up with any animals. Jade might be able to help you with that small cat you know. You sound like you want a cat.

I'm not Poetry isn't something that I prefer to write what I see and experience. [user writes in purple prose and compares everything to body parts in her 'journals'] I will read any of your work, though. It's rare that I'm dishonest.

You were a starving artist, yet you continued writing. Why? Is it because you felt, even then, that it was your calling?

Bars to stay away from... yes. [user attaches a list of 2 bars] Here are the bars in town where there have been no deaths since I've arrived. Dull. Skip those two. Oh, right, you – try those two.

Of course. You should considering willing them to me.