#also. fun fact about my fear. I was about to try and take the throwing up part out of the game

[aph-america]

Can you analyze amerus relationships in canon?

yeah why not!

when it comes to Alfred’s side of things, I did a one that I’ll link here. Def check it out since I include strips from the comic to showing why I feel the way I do. Quick summary is basically: Alfred is sooo unserious about Ivan. He isn’t scared of him, tries to one up him, isn’t fazed by him or his threats. And he hangs out with him because he wants to, not because he’s scared of him.

I really enjoy the ship because it’s based on the fact that Ivan’s met his match. Someone who isn’t afraid to say no, teases and bites back. (In the comic, when Ivan calls Matthew about their friendship, he complains about how Alfred always says no to his ideas and is annoyed that Matthew just goes along with it: or so he feels that way).

I’m a fanfic writer so- I find it fun and when I’m writing them I always include that Ivan’s attracted (and when nationverse also frustrated at times) to that. Personally for me, it’s not the most fun to write a relationship based off of fear. I just find it boring and overdone. (Alfred as a child was strong enough to throw a bull, and he’s afraid of ghost because he can’t punch them. Why would he be scared of Ivan?) Same with the hate sex thing. Maybe because I’m sexually active I know it’s just kind of not a thing haha. Instead of hate sex I like to (on Ivan side) have him be VERY annoyed and conflicted that he finds Alfred attractive, and enjoys the man’s confidence. He ends up giving into Alfred’s advances and flirtations, as he’s not used to someone pinning after him. Star crossed lovers also I’m WEAK for.

And for Alfred’s side, I make him frustrated that Ivan won’t accept capitalism, (he thinks he does everything better than everyone else, thinks he’s always right, doesn’t like being told no) and like I said in this post: in fics I always write him as very pressed, he views Ivan almost like a trophy… a prize for his conquest to not only be the sole world power, but to finally push his sphere of influence into Russia. (Hey still some toxic for the people who enjoy it)

I know you said canon, but I can’t help to include my own personal headcanons. As they are part of the reason I have fun and enjoy it. Hetalia is NOT a serious show: it’s short comics and a five minute anime based around WW2, written by a Japanese man who makes it unserious. I’m not one of those historical fans that take it incredibly seriously. (Not trying to shame people who are, it’s just that in my ten years in the fandom, my personal experiences have been being talked down to/shamed for being silly by them). One of the reasons why I tend to write human au’s is because I don’t need someone breathing down my throat about historical accuracy. I’m here to have fun!!!!! But those are my thoughts. Sorry for the rambles. They don’t interact that much in canon so you gotta really expand their relationship when writing.

[mitano-omori]

Fun fact part 2 of your local writer’s experience playing Omori…

I have BAD social anxiety. I can get over it if I need to, but that takes a lot of adult-ing. So, I pretty much NEVER answer the door irl.

So that first night, I was ALREADY on edge (I have a severe phobia of throw up, so I was a little tweaked after the whole bad steak thing that night) and I was NOT doing the knocking on the door thing. I didn’t care if that meant I was gonna get the “bad route” (and I really did think that I was gonna get the Omori route if I didn’t answer the door that night). I was NOT gonna answer the damn door.

Turns out I “social anxiety-ed” my way out of HellMari. I had no idea I narrowly escaped one of the biggest jumpscares of the game until DAYS later 😂😂

[the-moth-wizard-of-mayhem]

*Lepi walks to the store in human form. Giggling at the fact that they are now doing normal human things as a human.

........

*Lepi feels watched. They continue

BAM!

*Lepi gasps and narrowly dodges some sort of magic blast.

What... what on earth......

Your going to have to try harder than that

*Someone appears behind Lepi and shoots them with something. There's a yellow light. It burns.

AHG FUCK!

*Lepi turns around and tries to cast a spell on the attacker. It... it doesn't work?

Hahaha! Your magical energies gone. Neat lil trick i learned.

*Lepi falls backwards and quickly tries to reach into thier hair. It doesn't work.

Nope. Not going to work this time. Turns out that little thing you got going in your head is also powered by magic. Albiet not very much magic.

*The figure approaches and grabs Lepi by the face. Lepi tries to get away. But the figure just grabs thier face tighter.

Curious though.... your still human.....

*Lepi's eyes grow wide. How do they know so much about me? They claw at the figures arm. It is not effective.

...... weak.

*They throw Lepi to the ground. Lepi tries to run. The human whispers something and spikes erupt in front of Lepi. Lepi falls to the ground.

Another fun trick! Turns out magic wasn't that hard to learn after all. Now

*The human grabs Lepi and holds them by the throat. Lepi grabs the persons arm in a desperate attempt to keep from choking.

Do you remember me? Look at my face.

*The human pulls Lepi closer to thier face. Lepi tries to look away

No. Look at my face.

*The human forces Lepi to look at them. Orange... eyes....

You don't know me... do you

........

*The human's expression drops to a blank face. The human is seething.

*The human throws Lepi to the ground again and steps on Lepi's leg. Hard. Breaking it

AHG! S-STOP!!

*Lepi curls up and grabs thier leg whimpering

Pathetic. You don't even remember.

*The human begins walking towards Lepi. Lepi begins trying to desperately crawl away. The figure picks Lepi up again and turns them to look at thier face.

LOOK AT MY FACE!! WHO AM I? DO YOU NOT EVEN HAVE THE BASIC DECENCY TO REMEMBER THE PEOPLE YOU DESTROYED THE LIVES OF?? I SPENT SO LONG REMEMBERING YOU. I KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT YOU NOW. I SPENT ALL THIS TIME LOOKING FOR YOU. SO WHO AM I?

*The human punches Lepi in the face. Giving them a black eye. They look at the human. A palpable fear rises in them. Destroyed...? They remember the cities they raised to ashes. No...nonononono, this isn't happening, not like this.

*Lepi gets up. Limping.

OH?? AHAHAHAHAhahaha... so are you going to try to fight? In that state? You are so much easier to fight than I thought. You are just a weak little moth, after all.

*The human begins running. Readying another punch. Something snaps in Lepi when they hear the human's words. They dodge and grab the human by the head. Flipping them over onto the ground. The human quickly gets up. The spikes appear right where Lepi is. Lepi throws themself out of the way. The human takes this opportunity to fling Lepi across the ground again. The human slowly walks to the ground towards Lepi. Knowing Lepi isn't in a state to go anywhere fast.

Im.... im not... weak

ahah...AHAHAHAHAHA THAT'S ALL YOU CARE ABOUT? NO. NO, YOU ARE WEAK. WEAK AND PATHETIC. LOOK AT HOW EASY THIS IS!!

*The figure grabs Lepi again and throws them against a tree. Lepi coughs blood

YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME. MY LIFE. MY FAMILY. MY HOME. EVERYTHINGS GONE!! I SPENT ALL THIS TIME TRYING TO FIND YOU AND YOU BARELY PUT UP A FIGHT!!

*The figure punches Lepi again out of frustration. Lepi looks at the person in the eyes. The person has a crazed smile, and tears streaming down their face. Lepi feels an inescapable sense of dread. Lepi takes the punches.

WHY AREN'T YOU FIGHTING BACK??? WEAK!!! YOU WERE SO MUCH STRONGER BEFORE WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU??? ARE ALL WIZARDS THIS WEAK WITHOUT MAGIC??

*The figure continues punching Lepi.

I'LL KILL YOU!! I'LL KILL YOU LIKE YOU KILLED THEM!! ILL HURT EVERYONE YOU LOVE!!

AHahahaha.... no....no that's too easy..... i can't kill you yet. I spent this long trying to find you. Im going to enjoy this. Go. Run. Or i'll make your living moments so fucking painful.

*Lepi takes this opportunity. They desperately stumble away. The person laughs wildly and continues calling Lepi a coward.

*Once Lepi is a good distance away, they go into an alleyway in the town. Lepi leans against the wall and sinks to the ground. They grab their head and panick. Gasping for air. Their voice is raspy and squeaky.

SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT

[mister-sandwich]

hi!! I read your pinned introduction post :3

loveeeee chuckle sandwich, but I saw the nsfw part and wanted to ask will you be writing any sfw/fluff as well?? pleaseeee 🥺 pretty pleaseee 🥺🥺🥺🥺 for yiour good friend (blog you have never interacted with) 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Okay so I’m actually not a writer- BUT…. since you asked so nicely and you’re such a good friend……..

I will provide you with some of my thoughts/imagines and maybe it’ll inspire some folks. Disclaimer, I have been watching a lot of OLD Chuckle so maybe some of this doesn’t apply anymore, also this is what I gather from the information they spread online so who knows what they’re actually like 🤷 (aka me trying to fight off my parasocial demon)

Tried to keep it fairly gender neutral but there is some gendered language like “broad” and just “girl” as a descriptor for like a not “manly” thing. Also I still have no clue how this hellsite works so my formatting may be shit.

Warning: Schlatt favouritism will likely be SO obvious here. I love them all but I watch Schlatt the most (if you couldn’t tell from the pfp and the everything else)

Charlie:

↣ I mean they’re all losers in their own way but Charlie is like specifically a dork if you get me

↣ Just the sweetest ever I mean we’ve seen him it’s a fact

↣ I love D&D so I just keep imagining him running campaigns that you specifically will like- something for you and your friends whenever you wanna play

↣ Just geeking out on nerd shit with him would be so nice- he would be so excited by anything that makes you excited

↣ Probably would call his partner sweet pet names or like make puns out of your name

↣ Probably the most emotionally intelligent out of all of them although I hate to bash the other two, he just seems like a guy who would notice you’re uncomfortable and IMMEDIATELY fix it

↣ Charlie also just seems the type to try and understand someone’s sense of humour so he can make them laugh over and over and over again- so I feel like he’d nail your humour so fast and you’d be struggling to BREATHE whenever you’re around him

↣ You would make him laugh too of course, he would love that about you

↣ He talked about taking Ted’s hand and dragging him through one of those little kiddie waterpads that squirt water everywhere trying to avoid the water and I imagine him doing that with you

Ted:

↣ Ted is actually the weird middle ground between these two I fear (like openly aggressive but also openly sweet)

↣ His loser alignment is specifically goofball (I cannot and will not explain)

↣ One thing I’ve noticed is Ted is so extroverted and social and I feel like if you weren’t he would bring you out of your shell a bit

↣ He would also be like so proud of anything- like the way he talks about Shae playing beer pong in the first Chuckle ep with Ludwig

↣ Like I feel like he would be the type to be like “my partner fucking rocks and I’m just here” but he would love it (he’s kenough)

↣ One episode of Chuckle Sandwich he talks about trying to make Charlie happy (because he had resting bitch face so Ted assumed he was sad) and so he was just dragging him around and doing bits and like he would definitely do that with his partner

↣ Like definitely keeps track of what you like and what makes you happy so he can shove it in your face whenever you’re sad

↣ I feel like he’d call you classic pet names like “baby” “babe” “honey” would definitely throw in some especially cheesy shit for the bit

↣ Getting high with him would be a BLAST like he would get so hyped and he would make sure you had a great time (honestly my stoner ass wants to write a whole post about all of them while high but I don’t usually write so it would be BAD— LMFAO)

↣ He would also just like always look to you and ask for your opinion while having a conversation in a group, just always makes sure you’re included and happy and having fun

↣ He would also organize any trips y’all wanted to go on

↣ I also feel like there would be SO MANY BITS- like full on bit city over here

Schlatt:

↣ Okay so this man: learned bits of Russian to talk to people on video games (I forget which game(s) specifically), asked Quackity for his Spanish music playlist because he wanted to listen and he genuinely enjoyed it and shared it with others, learned more Japanese than I think he’d admit and knows like actual information about the places he goes to and all that good stuff- so like- if you’re from ANYWHERE different he’s asking you about your stuff

↣ He’s bullying some of it a little too, probably talks about how “_” is actually so much better in America/NY

↣ If you speak another language he’s learning bits of it to say odd shit and playfully flirt with you because obviously

↣ Just so much playful bullying and teasing, my personal weakness tbh

↣ Like his pet names for you are “toots” obviously but then like “dumbass”

↣ One of those boyfriends who is a baby and cuddles you but if you take a picture of him or record him he’s back on his man shit

↣ His actions speak volumes though, he’d bend over backwards and all the way back around for you probably

↣ I mean he shoveled his old neighbours driveways he’s a considerate guy I think

↣ But he’d like whine about doing ANYTHING for you like it wasn’t his choice

↣ “I brought this fuckin’ broad out last night ‘nd it costed me like $200.”

↣ “YOU MADE ME GET THE MORE EXPENSIVE BOOZE.”

↣ “YEAH ‘CAUSE YOU WANTED SOME CHEAP SHIT! I’M NOT LETTING YOU DRINK THAT!!”

↣ He is so blunt he ends up accidentally genuinely complimenting you all the time but it’s literally just observations about you like that’s how his brain works

↣ Would buy you any Wii games from your childhood and then tell you how ass they are while he plays it with you

↣ Gives the energy of that man who says he doesn’t wanna watch your “girl” show but then stands in front of the tv and asks you 5000 questions

↣ Takes those stupid 0.5 photos of you and posts them to Twitter as like reaction images

↣ But also takes like BEAUTIFULLY shot photos of you with his digital camera or records cute dates with the camcorder so he can look back on it

↣ While Charlie and Ted seem more like activity date people I think Schlatt adores a quiet night in, he’s an introvert, I mean did you see him in the Mr. Beast video??

ANYWAY- that was my shoddy attempt at making some imagines or whatever you’d call it- sorry if they’re pretty generic and not great. To be fair, I wrote a bunch of them at work LMFAO- Like I said I am NOT a writer but I hope y’all enjoyed nonetheless

[cryinginmyroomsposts]

Stuck with me - Kim Seungmin

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader

tags: fluff, clg bf Seungmin, popular singer boy seungmin, mention of previous breakup, oc gender not specifically mentioned, friends to lovers, puppy seungmin

a/n: not proofread, just trying to live my delulu through writing, Seungmin in glasses has been stuck in my head

masterlist

"You what?" Your voice comes out in a screech that turns many heads in the cafe you frequented often, like most other students from your university.

Seungmin, who stood in front of you, looking calm and gorgeous as ever stared back at you with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"You heard me." He says in a cool way that throws you off more.

"I- I need a minute." You manage to let out and cover your head in your hands. The embarrassment from screeching in the middle of the cafe and the shock of what had just happened was all too much to take in at once. You need to breathe.

It was yet another normal weekday filled with assignments, delusional romcoms and endless caffeine ingestion. After a rough summer filled with heartbreak and a depressing start to the fall semester, you had finally gained your footing. The fall had brought with it a lot of changes in you.

You found new classmates who had helped you through the rough times and cared about you. Amongst those classmates was also Seungmin, the menace of the group but surprisingly your favourite confidante. He had been nothing but a little prankster and a comedian who ensured the other boys- Hyunjin, Changbin and Jeongin, never got a single second of peace.

He went a little easier on you and Ryujin, the other girl in the group, and you figured it had less to do with your gender and more to do with the fact that he was positively scared of both of you. While he had been a little less annoying with you, it didn't mean you were entirely free of the classic Seungmin pranks either.

Which is why your first instinct on b being asked out on a date by the Kim Seungmin was to believe he was pulling a prank on you.

Seungmin might be a comedian amongst his friends but you were very well aware of his status as the golden boy of the university's band and the boy with the golden voice. On top of that angelic voice, the boy also had a face that could make everyone melt. That smile had made your heart skip beats on several occasions too.

You had met him on a very surly day of your class during the first week of the semester to discuss forming project teams. What began as a purely academic bond evolved into a sureshot friendship as his friend group got acquainted with you and your friend. You had grown very fond of the boys as they helped you forget your pain.

Seungmin was the first one to reach out and notice your melancholy and something about him made you open up about your struggles. It had been two months since then and he had been your source of support through the entire time. While the other boys were also sweet and Ryujin was your primary pillar of support, Seungmin gave you a comfort that felt worlds apart from the others.

You had your fair share of childish fun with him too. You started to notice how he let only Jeongin and you tease him. Changbin and Hyunjin never stood a chance against Seungmin and despite the latter's fear of Ryujin's brash honesty, he never let her off the hook easily either. It was not exactly a surprise to realise that Seungmin had a soft spot for you.

The surprise was that he had walked into the cafe on a random Tuesday afternoon and chose to utter the words "Will you go on a date with me?" in the most nonchalant Seungmin way with absolutely no warning.

And an even bigger surprise was how your heart was skipping several beats on hearing it and your brain was practically shouting at you to say yes even though you had never let yourself think about Seungmin in that sense.

Correction- you had consciously tried your best to not let Seungmin and his actions, smile, voice, hair or even his pranks affect you in a romantic way. You had just come off a horrendous romantic experience that should keep you sworn off romance for a decade at the least. But you would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't thought about being with Seungmin at least a couple hundred times in the last month alone.

It had all started with that dream. One cold October afternoon, you decided to make the mistake of taking a nap and ended up dreaming of cuddling with Seungmin while watching the snow from your window. The dream threw you off balance and ever since you have been trying and failing to remove Seungmin out of your mind. The random blushes creeping up your cheeks and a pang of jealousy weighing down your mind every time he performed on stage and you had to watch all the girls drool over him. It was all really frustrating, to have to act normally around him while convincing yourself that you are better off as friends.

Especially since he had started wearing his new prescription glasses and smiling at you randomly. Everything he did got magnified and took up extensive real estate in your brain. Each night you convinced yourself you don't have feelings for him and each morning he would do something so small that would have you fighting for your life trying not to melt.

And now he had the audacity to prank you with something as big as a date and you had no idea how to react.

You parted your hands from your face to look up at him through the gaps in your fingers to find him missing. This made you sit upright and look around, part of you hoping he had left and another part sighing in disappointment at the idea of it being a joke after all. But no, there he was, waiting in line at the counter for his order- which you knew was an iced americano, no sugar and extra ice. You watched as he politely thanked the lady who handed him a drink, then turned around and smiled at the group of freshman girls giggling at him. An involuntary eye-roll escaped and you turned toward your laptop waiting from him to take the seat opposite yours.

"So?" He says, placing his drink on the table and placing his hands on the table as he leans forward.

God, that smirk on his face made your stomach do a backflip.

"So what?" You forced yourself to look and sound as normal as possible. And judging by the smirk that has taken on residence on Seungmin's face you weren't doing the best job.

"Y/N, come on. Stop playing hard to get with me."

"Seungmin what the hell! Stop trying to play one of your stupid pranks on me." This broke his stance. His face turned from playful to serious and it only made your heart beat faster.

"I'm not playing pranks y/n. I am serious." And he looks it too. You gulp down the ball of anxiety forming in your throat.

"You want me to go on a date with you? For real?"

Seungmin flinches at your tone. "Is that really such a weird thought for you?"

The doubt flashing on his face tugs at your heart and you immediately leap to say "no".

This brings the faintest hint of a smile back on his face. He takes a sip out of his drink and says "So it's a yes?"

You say the only thing that comes to your mind at that moment. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?" Seungmin's voice is barely above a whisper.

"Why me? Why now?" Your voice falters at the thought of being vulnerable only for him to end up calling it a prank or a mistake. But the way his face softens at your question removes the worry from your mind. He reaches out and takes your hand in his. The butterflies are doing a full ballet routine in your stomach and your heart thrums in your ears in anticipation.

"Y/N, I knew you were dumb but never thought you were this dumb!" You pout in response and he chuckles. "Okay okay, I was joking. But what I mean to say is... I've liked you for a while now. So I thought I'll ask you out on a date, see if it is an infatuation or something more and then figure out what to do."

It was very Seungmin of him to say that.

"What about my feelings for you?" You questioned out of curiosity.

"That's obvious. You're already head over heels in love with me." He says it with a shrug and you remove your hand from his in frustration. "Ya Seungmin, do you have a death wish?" you exclaim and roll your eyes. Of course, you knew he was joking but your stomach still churned in anxiety.

"Jokes apart, I really do like you y/n and I hope you give me this chance to show it to you. I was waiting all this while for you to take your time after your breakup and move on. Yesterday when you said you didn't even think of any of that mess or feel sad anymore I decided it is time to make my move. And of course, there is no force on you and I won't hold it against you if you reject either. But I really hope you give me this chance. The semester is almost over and we can go on one small date during the break and then figure out everything else. Please?"

Everyone called Seungmin a puppy and you were wary of the nickname initially but at that moment he was looking at you with the softest eyes, lips in a pout and a questioning look that made him look like the cutest puppy on the planet.

His heartfelt confession gave rise to a gazillion butterflies and everything beautiful in your stomach. The big smile formed on your face involuntarily.

"Seungmin that was... cute", you said chuckling. "Who knew you could be this wholesome!"

His pout intensified. "Hey, I am very cute always. But the fact that you haven't slapped me yes makes me hope I might get a yes?" The last sentence sounds more like a question even to Seungmin and you let out another chuckle.

"Yes, Seungmin. I will go on a date with you. Just one though." You feign nonchalance but he sees right through you.

"Y/N, please! I know you are squealing with happiness on the inside right now."

"Yea sure, like I am one of your cringe fangirls ugh! I am just doing this as a favour to you."

"Ahha I see. How kind of you ma'am." He says with a mock bow while his face is glowing with joy.

"Ya stop teasing me or I will back out." The ultimatum sounds like a joke even to your own ears but you keep up the act for the fun.

"No, you're stuck with me now. No backing out!" He said with indignance.

"Do you mean just about the date?" The question left your mouth before your brain could understand it and you regretted it the instant his expression turned serious again.

Seungmin looks into your eyes for a moment too long before responding, "You're stuck with me. That's all."

And just like he leaves for his next class, leaving you to smile to yourself like an idiot. A ping from your phone distracts you.

Seungmin: I'd be wholesome to you forever if it meant seeing you smile like that.

You didn't know what the impending winter would bring but for now, you decided to bask in the happiness and this new facet of Seungmin.

[tobi-smp]

[looks left, looks right]

I've been holding this one back until people got cool with a lot of things very quickly but I think nows the time

lets have a quick examination of c!allium off the top of my head

1: ranboo joins the server and is immediately heckled by dream

2: that same day he meets tommy and they have the famous exchange where tommy asks ranboo if he likes flowers (to rib him) and ranboo accidentally punches him trying to give it to him. this is cute on its own, but of course we Know that tommy loves flowers, that he covered his house in them, that he sung to the plants in l'manberg

3: and importantly, that he took the flower

4: tommy immediately taking ranboo under his wing and running off to Do A Prank with him. this is really important because this is tommy trying to go back to the way that things were Before. the way that he'd had fun with his family and what he did when he felt safe and secure. this is tommy being silly with a new person he might consider a friend, but it's Also him trying to reconnect with that happy Free feeling he'd had before

5: they'd made a bunker specifically to plan out their prank, and he'd put the allium that ranboo gave him into a chest hidden for safe keeping. And That Allium Survived. he kept it and it survived

6: when they're caught not because what they did was Actually out of line (griefing was an every day occurrence, even and Especially between l'manberg and dream's territory), tommy Deliberately Did Not Throw Ranboo Under The Bus.

he didn't take it seriously, he made fun of everyone because the situation was ridiculous, but he Never implicated ranboo. and in fact, he only started Admitting to the crime When Ranboo Was Being Implicated. he Deliberately Took The Fall For Him.

(and it's worth noting that the evidence that was used to tie to tommy to the crime in the first place were signs that Ranboo wrote).

7: and in return Ranboo Stood Up For Tommy. ranboo is a character defined by his conflict avoidance and lack of spine, But He Stood Up For Him. he admitted to being a part of it, and he pointed Out that tommy was taking the fall to try to protect him, and he did so Specifically to counter tommy being called selfish.

8: then in between the trial and exile day tommy opened up to ranboo, both about being afraid of his relationship with tubbo falling apart AND with his relationship with wilbur. admitting to having nightmares and admitting that this fear of losing tubbo is tied to having lost wilbur. this is something he'd never said out loud to anybody at this point, and it'd be Many Many more months until he'd open up about it to anybody else.

9: while there Were people who visited tommy in exile multiple times, ranboo was undeniably the most consistent (outside of ghostbur, until well. dream tried to kill him)

he visited him in person And he wrote to him regularly. dream saw this as a threat so explicitly that he tried to sabotage their writing, to which ranboo circumvented it.

he'd regularly talk to tommy and try to help him while he was breaking down. he's one of the only people on the entire server to have a full picture of what happened and it ate at him.

10: he was Also the first person after techno to find out that tommy was still Alive.

11: ranboo's "dream is the reason" being intrinsically tied to how he's Seen dream hurt tommy and rip him apart from his friends.

12: His Speech At The Green Festival. "why can't you guys just choose PEOPLE" not directed at tommy but to Defend Him. why didn't they defend him because he was their Friend? why did the politics Matter when they all knew what was happening was wrong? (of course, we know the answer to that. but ranboo wasn't there to see it. he didn't know)

13: ranboo being there at doomsday, despite everything he was there. I Think About It

14: Ranboo Being There At The Disc War Finale, Finally Putting Himself Between Tommy And Dream. Dream Specifically Looking At Him In A Crowd Of People. I Think About It I Think About It.

15: Tommy's Death, My Fucking God Tommy's Death. him finding the allium and realizing that tommy had kept it. him openly furious at the way the server treated him, how nobody saved him and how all of this could've been prevented if people had just Acted, if they'd Cared. everyone including himself.

chewing out sam for leaving him, sam talking to him bluntly about exile, I Think About It I Think About It I Think About It

16: ranboo and tubbo shadowing tommy after his revival. killing mobs for him, putting blocks under him while he's walking, watching to make sure that he's okay. Trying To Help Him Be Okay. doing therapy with him, talking with him. so afraid that he'll just disappear. "does he make you happy?" I think about it

17: tommy having a place in the mansion, even if he'd never moved in, he was supposed to be there

18: a major part of ranboo's struggle with his enderwalking not Just being about the fear of it happening at all, But The Realization That He Might've Hurt Tommy and how it absolutely Ate Him Up Inside

In Conclusion: if beeduo marriage hadn't happened I fully believe people would've started shipping c!ranboo and c!tommy and all of the discourse about rpf would've happened about them instead, and then years later tommy would've dropped his own actual rpf featuring his real self. this alternate timeline is way funnier

[a-kaash-me-outside]

a bit dirty - ch1

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. ch1 | next [masterlist]

// maybe a bad idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 6683 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, cute flirting before, drinking but not drunk sex, unprotected sex (NO PREGNANCY TROPE I PROMISE I SWEAR FOREVER), thigh fucking, slight missed connection trope, names names names pet names a million pet names, minimal foreplay (unless you count flirting as foreplay), afab she/her pronouns

join my taglist here!! ~~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you are completely aware that you should not be out right now.

but you are.

and you could chalk that up to your horribly persuasive friends and their constant nagging and pleading for you to tag along with them tonight or your distaste for saying no to people and disappointing them or even a mild fear of missing the played out events of a really great night in your head.

the truth is, it doesn't matter the reason that you’re out despite how kinda stupid it is. the fact is, you know that it’s a bad idea to be entering a club at 12am when the alarm in your pocket is set to 6am, but you’re doing it anyway. sure, you were lightly bullied and, sure, you keep offering deprecating and pity-me sentences about how you really shouldn’t be out, but you’re still there. you’re still out. 

you’re still hovering over a high-top table in the corner of the club a few steps from the bar screaming over loud music, “i told you guys that i didn’t really want to drink tonight.” yet, a drink is, indeed, thrusted into your hand. the glass bottle is cool against your palm, fingers smudging the condensation on the label as you hold it tight.

“if you don’t want it, i’ll drink it,” your friend offers, red jacket bunched around his wrist as he extends his hand towards you, palm shaped so the bottle would fit perfectly against it. you shake your head, bringing it to your lips, taking a sip, and then another, and then another. 

“this is such a bad idea, kuroo,” you drone, exhaling as you take another sip.

“yn,” kuroo says abruptly, one hand placed on your shoulder, fingers squeezing to call you to look at him, “we know.”

“do you want to go home?” akaashi asks, calling your bluff or genuinely concerned, you’re not completely sure. he turns to another member of your friend group for confirmation and a bit of support, “bo, should we just take her home?”

you stick your hand out in between them as if this would stop the conversation from progressing or any decisions from being made. you shake your head, “no. no, i don’t want to go home.”

“then maybe loosen up and act like it,” bokuto implores, hands on your shoulders, leaning his definitely not a tiny bit of weight against you, bouncing along with the beat of the song. 

“i just feel like if i keep saying it’s a bad idea,” you reason, narrowing your eyes as the sentences finishes in your head and you know that you’re going to get flamed when it actually comes out of your mouth, “that it makes up for the fact that i’m out because i feel bad for it?”

definitely not.

yeah, i don’t think so.

nice try.

bad logic, yn, really bad. 

you groan, “okay, okay. fine. actually having fun. because i’m out,” you point at akaashi and he nods back at you, “and so why not just enjoy it instead of making myself miserable for being out?”

“and us,” tsukishima notes, “don’t forget us. you’re also making us miserable.”

kuroo throws his arm around tsukishima, runs the tops of his knuckles over his hair as he laughs, “you’re always miserable. you don’t count.”

“tch, knock it off,” tsukishima swats at kuroo’s fist so violently that he almost falls over.

“yea,” you say in an attempt to convince yourself, “just have a fun time and don’t think about the fact that i should probably be on my way home right now.” 

akaashi bumps his shoulder into yours, the one that bokuto’s fingers are still tightly grasped around. “you know how to have fun, yn,” he reminds you, “laughing at those dumbasses is usually a good start.” akaashi nods towards tsukishima and kuroo trying, and failing, to contain their back and forth, bumping into the table and spilling bokuto’s drink. 

it is a good start, you suppose. you can’t help but laugh, actually, as they start yelling at each other, blame spewing and insults flown. “and then,” akaashi says, raising his eyebrows and gesturing to your drink. he raises his own, waits for you to do the same and then lightly taps the neck against yours. you raise the bottle to your lips, tilt it upwards, and don’t bring it back down until the only weight in your hand is the empty glass.

“c’mon, idiots, you owe bo a new drink,” akaashi shouts over the already loud club and added bickering, “and we need a refill also.”

they either don’t hear him or choose to ignore him. neither tsukishima nor kuroo even bat an eye to akaashi waving his hands to get their attention or the dramatic sigh that he forces. bokuto notices, though, nods to the bar as he says, “c’mon, we will go get new drinks. they won’t even notice we’re gone!”

your tiny nod is confirmation enough. bokuto grabs your wrist, gently pulls you through the mass amounts of people to the bar, moving through the crowd much easier than you would’ve on your own. sure, you could maneuver in and out of people, but bokuto could barrel right through them, polite enough to offer small sorrys and excuse mes, but assertive enough to keep moving the entire time. 

bokuto presses up against the counter, leans over the top to order whatever drinks he’s ordering, and then waits patiently while the bartender grabs said drinks. you stand next to him, akaashi on the other side of bo, a bit of space between you resting with your lower back on the edge of the countertop and the horde of people dancing in the vicinity. 

the bar is a bit of an oasis, somewhat more organized than the conglomerate of different groups that occupied the rest of the venue. there is a patience here that you don’t get in other parts of the club, a knowing restraint that you welcome like a breath of fresh air. you scan the length of the bar, the groups of people inhabiting the same space that you are for the same reason that you are and among them, a man with gray hair and a tight black t-shirt who keeps looking over in your direction. 

everytime you try to sneak a private glance, he’s already looking at you, eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second before pretending that he was looking somewhere else. you’re suddenly feeling much warmer than before, perhaps it has something to do with the club lights or the large gathering of people or the way the two guys that are with him keep nudging him in your direction. 

“that guy keeps looking at you,” bokuto notes, pointing very blatantly at the man across the bar. “you should go talk to him.”

“no way!” you instantly reject the thought. 

akaashi leans forward, peeking out from the other side of bo. “step three of having a fun night out? getting railed by a mystery guy who keeps throwing you looks,” akaashi explains, head nodding, no inclination of sarcasm. 

“you said talk to him,” you say, glance thrown over your shoulder just in case he’s already gone. that would solve a lot of your inner turmoil right now. but when you do look, he’s looking right back. this time, he keeps eye contact with you for an entire second before pulling away.

“right, well, and then fuck him,” akaashi says, mischevious smile, shrugging his shoulders as if it were obvious.

“i don’t do that,” you explain. 

“you haven’t done that,” bokuto says, “there’s a difference.” 

“look, you’re out, you’re trying to have a good time, that hot fuckin’ guy is staring you down?” akaashi says, naming all of the reasons that he believes this is a great idea, “and the four of us are here if something is weird. this is the perfect opportunity.”

“no, no,” you shake your head, “besides, i’ve gotta finish this drink and tsukishima and kuroo are probably-”

bokuto taps his card against the machine as you babble on excuses and grabs the drinks from the counter in the middle of your sentence, handing one to akaashi and holding the other two. “oh nooo,” bokuto whines, “turns out these drinks are for me. better find someone else to buy you a drink.” he makes eye contact with akaashi, nods towards the direction of where you all came from and starts moving that way.

you move to follow them, but your feet don’t move, heart beating against your chest as your core tells you that if you hesitate for only a moment, they will be out of reach and it’ll actually be easier to just sit here at the bar. and if something were to happen while you were abandoned by your friends, if the buff looking tall guy a few feet down the bar decides to talk to you, then it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have ever happened to you. 

it’s not just that you don’t move, it’s that you make the very conscious choice not to move. you take a deep breath and check one more time that he’s still there, that he’s still looking at you, and he is. you let your stare linger this time, you have no other obligations or people to talk with. it’s you, all alone at this bar, waiting for one particularly attractive man to make his way over to you and talk to you, you might as well make it obvious. 

with him are two other guys, one that looks eerily like him but with brassy dyed hair and a louder personality and another one with a black mask on and dark, curly hair. the blonde one nods in your direction, pushes him with his shoulder once and then twice and then a third time. you think that this will cause a reaction, but it doesn’t. 

you’re almost ready to concede, make your way back to the high top and have a good night without going out of your comfort zone, but the other guy leans over and says something in his ear, points at you with his chin, and then pulls the blonde guy away and leaves the gray haired guy alone just like you. 

for someone who didn’t make his way over to you the first three times someone shoved him in your direction, it doesn’t take him long to walk over to you once he’s alone. you wonder if you’ll have to say something first, what will you say first, what should you say first?

“did your friends leave ya too?” he asks, and if you hadn’t downed your first drink and you weren’t as nervous as you were, you might’ve noticed how out of place he sounded as well. 

you laugh, offer a short nod as he takes place next to you, leaning against the bar the same way you are. you’re rooting through your brain to concoct an adequate response, one that will entice him to stay, continue a conversation, let him know that you’re very interested while also not telling him that outright, but all of that thinking is rendering you currently silent.

still, he tries again, asks something much easier, “can i buy ya a drink?” 

you nod again, turning towards him this time, but not before catching a glimpse of his profile, his chest, his forearms tense with his fingers gripping the edge of the counter. tonight was definitely not a mistake. you don’t care how early you have to be up tomorrow. “only if you stick around for a dance too,” you say, hand ghosting on said tense forearm, testing the waters, voice projecting so that you’re sure he hears you.

he laughs this time, gorgeously genuine smirk appearing along with it. “i don’t really dance,” he admits, “but to talk to ya a bit longer? i’d be stupid not to.” his eyes flicker down to your lips, the way your tongue peeks out for just a second and your teeth scrape against the bottom, and then back up to your eyes, wider than before but just as lust-stricken. 

he turns, flags down a bartender. on their way over to the two of you, he leans down, “what can i getcha?”

“i’m not picky,” you respond, “i’m pretty adventurous, actually. i like trying new things. i feel like you can learn a lot about someone from drinking their go-to drink.” you feel like you’re rambling, but he’s looking at you like you’re the cutest thing on earth. 

he leans over the bar, orders whatever he orders, and then quickly returns back to your side. “so what did you order?” you ask. “what will i be drinking?”

“spiced rum and coke,” he calls back, “what does that say about me?”

“hm?” you question, tilting your head.

“ya said that ya can learn a lot about someone from their go-to drink. what does that say about me?” he asks, smiling.

you purse your lips, mulling it over for a second. “i think it says that you like the classics, but with a more exciting twist,” you say back. “like-” 

he wraps his arm around your waist, cutting you off as he pulls you closer to him, moving you out of the way of some far too drunk couple that was knocked in your direction, drink sloshing right where you were just standing. “sorry,” he says, very slow to remove his hand from your waist, but you lean back into it. 

“don’t apologize,” you say, staying pressed up against his side. “practically saved my life,” you joke. “if the roles were reversed, you’d be drenched right now. i’m not that fast.” he raises his eyebrows at your sentence, but you don’t correct yourself, just avert his gaze and laugh at yourself. “did you have that all planned or?” you ask.

“nope,” he says, arm still around your waist as he pulls his card out of his pocket to pay. he hands you one of the drinks. “just the stars aligning or somethin.” 

the spice of the rum is nice, warming, a bit more flavorful, an unexpectedly fun twist to a classic. you smile up at him. “now you owe me a dance,” you say, nodding towards the dance floor full of people. 

he doesn’t hesitate, slides his hand down your side, digs his fingers into the fat of your hip, and nods in the same direction as you. “lead the way,” he says. he follows you as you weave through groups of friends and drunk couples until you find a somewhat less crowded corner. the music isn’t as loud here, a bit further away from the speakers and the action, but it feels perfect for the two of you. 

dancing is a generous word for what the two of you are doing. it starts more like swaying, his hand still on your hip, your hand now on his shoulder. you’re both still chained with mostly empty drinks in one hand, taking small sips here and there in between half-lidded eye contact and half-steps closer to the other. 

“is it bad that i want to get rid of this ridiculously over-charged drink so that i can put both of my hands on you?” he asks, leaning down to place his lips against your ear despite the fact that the music isn’t necessarily loud enough to warrant that. you shake your head, his lips brushing against the side of your cheek as you do, and then you let it fall onto his shoulder. 

you reach out, feel alone guiding you as you set your half-drank cup on a random table. you clasp your hands around his neck, allowing yourself to lean backwards to take him all in, pretty gray eyes, hungry look in the depths of them. you tangle your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. you really want to kiss him.

the hand that just held his drink is colder, shocking almost as it smooths down your lower back, fingers hooking into the waistband of your skirt, toying with the fabric and the zipper on the side. now you really want to kiss him.

he’s staring directly into your eyes as his fingers ghost over the lace of your underwear. he doesn’t pull away at the feeling, doesn’t stutter or retreat or dive deeper, but pushes his fingers underneath the band, dull nails scraping against the soft skin of your hip. you really want to kiss him right now. 

he’s so focused on touching you, on teasing you, on watching your adorable expression as you try to keep yourself composed, that you decide to take matters into your own hands, pulling him down into you and pushing up into him, lips smashing against his, fingers threading into his hair. 

you talk in the same instances that you breathe, in between long, sloppy kisses and roaming touches. “i don’t normally do this,” you admit. “am i supposed to say that?” 

“i wouldn’t know,” he says back, out of breath before pressing a kiss into your lips again, speaking against them, “i don’t either.”

“looking like that?” you ask, just as out of breath as he is, “your hands confident as that? yea fuckin right.”

he pulls away for a real breath, chest rising and falling a bit heavier than usual, tongue swiping over his lip to swallow the spit you’ve left there. “honest,” he replies.

you shake your head. you still don’t necessarily believe him, “i suppose i don’t have to trust you to go fuck you in the bathroom.”

he tilts his head, a huge smile on his face now. “oh?” he questions, “is that how far this is goin? ya thinking that far out?”

you blush, instantly warm against his touch. “well, no, i- i didn’t mean-,” you stutter.

“i mean, i suppose it doesn’t have to be that far out,” he says, low, as he brings one hand up and places your chin between his fingers, demanding your eye contact. “it could be in the next thirty seconds if ya want.”

all you can do is nod, but that’s enough for him. he’s dragging you by the waist to the other corner of the club, nodding towards the only single-room, open bathroom and you nod even more dramatically, following him inside. 

he locks the door behind you and his hands are instantly back on your body, gripped around each of your hips, both pressing you against the door and holding you in place as you pull his face down into you harder. he slides his hands to your lower back, down your ass, pushing up your skirt so he can feel your soft skin directly on his large hands. 

he uses this grip to lift you, back sliding against the bathroom door as he pulls you closer to him. he doesn’t have to lean down as far to kiss you now, doesn’t have to worry about using his hands to press you into the door. your legs are wrapped around him, his hips pressed between them. 

he kisses down your neck. “do i get to know your name?” he asks into your collarbones.

“do you need to?” you ask, cheek against the top of his head. 

when he laughs, you can feel the vibrations dance across your chest, “guess not.” he licks a strip up your neck, grinding his hips against you, “what do you want me to call you tonight then?”

“something cute,” you offer. 

he laughs again, “alright, doll, i’ll get creative then.” he holds you tight, both hands on the undersides of your thighs as he moves you to the sink, sets you on the edge of the porcelain fixture. his hands move to the tops of your thighs, sliding up and up until the hem of your skirt is at the top of your hips, exposing the lacey panties he was toying with moments ago.

surprisingly, this weird grip that he has on the tops of your thighs is not doing a horrible job at keeping you up right, but the longer that he feels your skin, drags his nails against the fats of your thighs, nudges open your legs with his knee, the less his focus is on keeping you steady. your core is tight, engaged to not fall backwards into the faucet, but perched right on the edge. 

“fuck, you’re so pretty,” he murmurs against your neck, hooks both of his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulls them down your thighs, over your knees, and lets them rest around your ankles and the fact that he’s being this mindful, doesn’t let your panties touch the gross bathroom floor, either means that he has, indeed, done this before or, the much worse option, he’s just that considerate and thoughtful.

he wraps one arm around your lower back, places one large hand on the inside of your thigh and slides it further between your legs until the tip of his thumb rubs against your already messy clit. you reach out on instinct, fingers wrapping around his forearm, eyes begging to stare into his, but he can’t pull away from the way that you’re teetering on the edge of the sink, thighs quivering to keep yourself upright as he begins to tease you, so you force it, slide your grip up his arm and shoulder and tilt his head to look you in the eyes and now he’s convinced he can’t ever pull away from this sight. 

your eyebrows are knit together but always moving, lip jutted out, chin tilted upwards, breathing already unsteady and he can feel the heat radiating from your entire body. he watches your jaw fall open as he drags the tips of two fingers between your puffy lips, circling the pads against your hole once before your tiny, but insistent nods convince him to push inside. your eyes close lazily and then open half-lidded, corners of your lip upturn into a blissful smile, and the prettiest hum leaves your throat as his fingers fill you.

with your position on the sink it’s not easy, but you move your hips forward the smallest bit. it barely pushes his fingers deeper, but the miniscule movements are better than nothing. he could give you everything you wanted right now, could curl his fingers and move so fast that his arm’ll be sore tomorrow, but there’ll be time for that in a second. right now, you’re whimpering so needy for him, soft walls clenching around two fingers, juices dripping into his palm and down to his wrist, a slow, sticky squelching louder than the music and chatter behind the closed door. 

“more?” you ask, quiet and sweet. you could’ve told him politely or demanded it, however you wanted to communicate your need would’ve been good enough for him, but you ask him so nicely and he knows exactly how the rest of the night will go, knows exactly what you need from him. 

“oh, sweetheart,” he says and the butterflies in your stomach are getting restless now. he nudges your legs open wider with his knee, steps in between them to get a better angle, chest against your shoulder as he starts fingering you faster, driving his two thick, long fingers deeper inside of you, curling as he pulls his arm back towards himself. “give ya anything ya want when ya ask that nicely.”

you can’t think of any other words, the only thing leaving your mouth over and over again is, “fuck fuck fuck” as he fucks you so pretty with his fingers. you’re so wet around him, so easy for his fingers to slip in and out of you and you’re having a hard time keeping your legs spread. if he weren’t standing between them, they’d be closed around his hand right now. it’s all so much. 

your forehead falls into his bicep, nodding against the muscle, fingers grip around the edge of the sink as you babble, “gonna come, please, gonna make me come.”

“then come, bunny,” he says, presses a soft kiss into your hair, and you’re gone. you listen to him so well, he can’t help but smile as he continues the motions, fingering you through your orgasm, walls fluttering around him, flooding even more. the grip on your waist gets tighter as you lose control, taking care of you as nearly every thought leaves your head. if he were any less in control, less thoughtful, you’d be on the floor right now. 

“and what do i call you?” you pant the second that you’re able to think again, hands not really sure where to root as they move from his chest to his shoulder to his forearm. 

“s’pose you might need something to call out when i wreck ya, huh?” he asks, kissing the side of your jaw because it’s the closest thing he can reach, thankful for your tiny recovery as he reaches down with one hand to undo his belt and jeans. 

fuck. you swallow harshly, not caring for even a second how much the effect of these words is showing on your face. this confidence might look tacky or awkward on somebody else, but his beaming genuine smile and equally as strong grip on your waist is driving you insane already and you know he’s not lying, he’s going to ruin you. you nod. 

“don’t matter to me, princess,” he says, smearing the juices on his fingers down the length of his cock, swirling around his tip, but you don’t dare look down, eyes on his as he finishes his sentence, “as long as it’s coming out of your pretty mouth, you can call me whatever you want.”

“and you say you haven’t done this before,” you breathe, voice very unsteady for how confident that sentence could’ve been.

“i really haven’t,” he shakes his head, leaning down to kiss you. “honest. just something about you that’s driving me crazy,” he says, wet fingers digging into your hip under your skirt, and for some dumb fucking reason you believe him, nodding stupid like he needed confirmation to a plain statement and you hope he understands that this means that you want him right now.

you press your forehead against his shoulder, catching only a glimpse of him lining himself up, finally having a scene to match the sensations as he drags his thick head between your sloppy lips, grids the underside against your clit, pushes the tip against your slightly stretched hole. 

“nuhhuh,” he says, picking your chin up, shaking his head, talking so soft that you accept it all as gospel, “look at me, dove. you can watch later, but right now, i need to see your pretty expression as i spear ya, okay?”

all you can do is nod, all you can say is, “okay.”

he smirks, kisses the side of your jaw so quickly before pulling away, eyes scanning every facial feature so he can notice the change in every single one, and then he pushes inside of you. the moan that rips from you is so loud that you’re convinced every person in the building can hear it. it breaks off at the end, so forceful that your vocal chords can’t support it, and you can’t see how entranced he’s looking at you because you can’t focus on anything.

you’re so fucking full. 

he’s pressed completely up against you, hips resting on the insides of your thighs, arm around your lower back to pull you into him, your chest against his, and his face is so close to yours, but not close enough that he can’t see how hard he’s already wrecking you just by being inside of you.

his hips pull back slowly. you can feel every inch leaving you and you’re already squirming at not being filled to the brim, circling your hips as best you can on the edge of the sink. he pushes forward again, harsher this time. your head falls against his shoulder and from this position, you can finally see it, the sheen of your slick on his cock as he pulls out and fucks back into you, how thick he is as he disappears inside of you. your walls clench around him at the sight, his hips stutter at the feeling, he needs more. 

every thrust inside of you, the fronts of his thighs slam against the side of the sink. you feel like the entire room is shaking with how forceful he’s being, but he can’t help himself, not when you’re sucking him in so tight. “shit, so fuckin’ perfect for me, fuck, so wet, ‘s it feel good, pumpkin?”

you nod vehemently, can barely talk amongst your whimpers and whines, can’t even really form a thought it feels so fucking good. “mmm,” you whine, “feels mm- feel- s- so good, baby, fuck, so so s- so good.”

“can’t even talk, you’re so cock drunk, huh, pretty?” he asks, moving both of his hands to your hips, rocking you back and forth to meet his thrusts and you just let him.

“please don’t stop, please, gonna come,” you say, the only string of words you’ve managed since he’s started fucking you, but you need him to know how close you are. 

“lemme feel it, babygirl, lemme feel how tight ya get when you’re comin’ on my cock, yea?” he coaxes, rhythmic pace unwavering, harder now even as he pushes you over the edge. before you even make a noise, he knows that you’re coming, can feel you gush, dripping down the underside of his cock as you squeeze him impossibly tighter and he’s throbbing now, doesn’t know how much longer he can take it when you’re making such adorable noises and looking at him like that between bouts of inabilities to focus and panting that heavily. 

he lets you ride through your orgasm completely as he hammers into you, lets you recover fully before even thinking about asking, “can i come on your thighs, angel?”

“oh, fuck,” you breathe, gummy walls fluttering at the thought.

you’re so drenched, juices running down your thighs and the inside of your legs, that it’s easy for him to press your legs together and fuck into them to finish. your plush thighs aren’t as tight as your cunt, but they’re softer, fuller, kinder, and he can’t get enough of the feeling and the sight, skin rippling as his thick cock slides against the sheened skin, disappearing into the fats of them repeatedly. you can’t stop looking either, forehead pressed against his as you both watch this sight in awe. 

“gonna paint your thighs white, puppy, fuck,” he announces, his own breath getting heavier, thrusts getting less rhythmic, more messy as he gives in, heavy cock resting between your thighs as he releases.

the throb is violent against the inside of your thighs and you can feel every single pulse as stream after stream of his sticky load coats your thighs. as the last bit of come drools out of the tip, he presses your legs together harder and pushes his hips forward one more time, hissing as his sensitive cock slides through the mess of come he’s created on your legs. 

“holy shit,” he breathes after a silent second. or, well, as silent as it can be with an entire world of people and happenings just a door away.

you nod, finally catching your own as you cup his cheek with your hand, guiding him down to meet your lips one last time, not because you’re desperate or needing, but something that you hope he takes with him as he leaves the bathroom and the club, a wordless thank you.

in the aftermath of lust and infatuation, you smile at him. he holds you in place, but leans away from you to grab some form of tissue to clean you up. he helps you down from the edge of the sink, helps you stand up right when your feet touch the floor, backs of your thighs aching from being pushed into the edge of a cheap sink all night. 

“well,” you shyly bend over to pull your panties up from around your ankles, “really great night,” you say, voice still weak even after you clear your throat. 

“yea,” he breathes a light chuckle, “a really great night,” he agrees.

you wait a beat, patient to see if he’s going to add anything else, a prying question or longing statement. the longer that you stay in this bathroom, the louder the noises of the confines get, the outside fading away momentarily as you hear the occasional drip of the faucet and the hum of fluorescent lights.

“do you think i could-,” he starts.

“i should probably get back to-,” you start at the same time.

“what?” you ask quickly, rushing to get him to finish the sentence he started, but there’s a soft pink on his cheeks and he’s quiet for another couple of seconds, and then he shakes his head.

“nothing,” he says, “i should get back to my friends too.” you only notice the sigh, the gulp, the hesitance and the regret because you’re looking for it, because you’re feeling it too. 

his hand is on the door handle and for a single second you’re sure that he’s going to say something else, finish his other sentence or start a new, but he doesn’t. he opens the door, the loudness of the music unwelcomed in comparison to the privacy and seclusion of your bathroom hookup.

“well,” you repeat, “maybe i’ll see you some other time and you can fuck me in the bathroom again.” his hand is still on your waist as he smiles huge and his laughter takes residency in your chest seemingly until the end of time.

“or, maybe you could-,” he starts, but perhaps the stars have unaligned themselves now, because he can’t seem to catch a break.

“HEY!” kuroo screams from across the bar the second that he makes eye contact with you. akaashi hits him once and then a second time for good measure, leaning in and overtly pointing to the person next to you. kuroo raises his arm, taps on his wrist with the other hand, and oh god you don’t even want to know what time it is. still, you shake your head and turn your attention back to your fling that you hope asks for a number and turns into at the very least a longer-term fling. 

“sorry about him,” you shake your head, and you swear he looks like he’s going to try one more time, pushing past all of the things that are refusing to let him ask you a simple question, but the blonde from earlier catches his attention, making a similar motion with wide eyes, chest forward like he’s going to walk over here any minute and your well it was really great while it lasted fling is removing his hand from your lower back. 

“i hope so, yea,” he replies, a smaller smile now as he turns his body towards the two people he was with before that are heading to the exit. “i really hope so.” 

the second that he starts to move so do you, both making your way through the dwindling crowd to the respective groups that you came here with, throwing a look over your shoulder every few seconds to make sure that, yes, he is indeed stealing the same obsessive glances that you are as he leaves.

“i can’t fucking believe you,” you say, hitting kuroo on the same shoulder that akaashi did, “he was about to give me his number, and now he’s gone forever.”

“you’d think that you’d get his number before you left the bathroom, yn, god,” kuroo says, shifting blame. “besides, maybe you’ll come out with us more now instead of being a buzzkill all the time, instead of being all guys, it’s not a good idea and i literally have work in the morning and-”

“kuroo is… oddly right,” akaashi says, interrupting him and shrugging, “in some weird way. he probably comes here from time to time, i’m sure you’ll run into him again. what was his name?”

your eyes go wide and you try to hide the fact that you fucked this guy without ever learning his name, but tsukishima catches it instantly and starts cackling. “wow, who even are you?”

“we’ll come back next friday, yea? you’ll probably find him again and you guys can have a fun mystery hookup in the bathroom again,” akaashi half-reason, half-pokes fun and you nod. you hope he comes back too. maybe you’ll at least learn his name next time.

/\ /\ /\

despite the fact that you do not regret anything from last night (well, maybe the part where you didn’t get the number of an incredibly hot guy who fucked you in the bathroom of a club, but nothing else), the morning is still not well-recieved for you. you didn’t even drink that much last night, but the small amounts of alcohol and the severe lack of sleep have you waking up feeling like your bones are made of bricks and your head is filled with them.

you didn’t get home until nearly 3 in the morning and you didn’t pass out until well past 3. you can’t brush your teeth enough times and the water in the shower can’t be hot enough and no matter how much concealer you layer on, the bags under your eyes are still at least somewhat visible.

regret isn’t the right word per se, because you definitely don’t regret going out the night (morning?) before or staying out as long as you did, but you definitely are feeling the effects of your bad decisions come to life. 

and on top of everything, you have to be presentable enough to go into work? that’s ridiculous. 

** bffs + tsukishima **

&lt; delivered / 8:04 am < alright who tf did this to me

> kuroo / 8:15 am > that guy last night lmao

&lt; delivered / 8:25 am < i wish akaashi was up instead of u

> kuroo / 8:29 am > what time do you   have to be in anyway?

&lt; delivered / 8:30 am < omw now.

a deep breath is not enough to prepare you for a full day of work, but it has to do something, right? and taking six of them outside of the front doors of not only your job, but your first day at your new job is probably enough to compensate for the exhaustion and physical garbage that you’re feeling.

you push open the doors, fake smile plastered on your very tired face, apron draped over your forearm. “good morning,” you offer over the chime of the entrance bell. before you even step fully inside, you’re greeted with the same tired-veiled enthusiasm, voice so familiarly soft that his morning welcome sounds more like an opening hymn. 

you walk towards the voice, but you don’t see anyone fully yet, only the top of a moving black cap behind the counter accompanied by shuffling papers and clanging pots. “just a sec, sorry,” he calls before standing up straight, rice cooker in his arms and he realizes it in the same immediate instant that you do.

gray eyes, still pretty but surprised now; gray hair no longer casually messy but neat under an onigiri embroidered dad cap; tight black shirt against his chest long-sleeved now; and he laughs, not because anything is funny, but because he doesn’t know how else to react at how impossible this situation is and yea it’s the exact same laugh that’s still living in your chest. 

you’re sure you look like a deer in the headlight right now, because it’s certainly how you feel. you can’t really breathe, don’t know what to say, because, yes, this is, indeed, the man that you had sex with in a dirty club bathroom less than 8 hours ago. 

you look down at his name tag, miya osamu. well, fuck, if only you’d have learned his name last night.

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[florsial]

@bartylusmicrofic - Wish Also he/they and trans Regulus!

Caught up in the flow of studying, the common room opening didn’t register in Barty’s head until the sound of jewelry was being set on the table. 

Throwing himself away from the numerous notes and open books, he sees his boyfriend scowling, his brows pressed together, and his lips being bitten raw. Judging from the formal outfit, Barty could guess that Slughorn’s party didn’t go too well for his boyfriend. The heated look in his eyes was evident enough and Barty suddenly wished he had attended with Regulus.

“Still planning on attending the next one?” He asked as he closed his notebook and looked up at Regulus, accepting the fact that he probably wouldn’t be studying for the rest of the night. 

Twisting another bracelet off his wrist, Regulus replied, “I don’t know, I’ll see after I’ve cooled off.”

“You could skip the next one.”

“The meetings are good for my future,” Regulus makes a face at his own words, “I think.”

“Uh huh,” Barty hums, standing up from his seat. He doesn’t really believe that, after all, Regulus is as smart and talented as he is, and no, Barty isn’t being biased, it’s true. He’s been trying to top Regulus in their History of Magic class, but his boyfriend always manages to keep a firm grasp on the position of being the top of the class. Barty would be proud if he hadn’t been trying to beat Regulus for years, even before they had started dating.

And that is just the tip of his boyfriend’s intelligence.

He is broken from his thoughts when Regulus asks, “I need to get out of all this, can you help me?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, “let’s go.”

Truthfully speaking, Barty doesn’t understand why Regulus insists on wearing the traditional pure-blood clothing, he is pretty sure some students have turned up in less than formal wear. Also, Regulus complains often about how scratchy and tight everything is and the hair-dos. Always braided and pinned with pins that give Regulus a headache. He ought to convince his lover to tone down for the Slughorn’s parties.

When they get to their dorm, Evan is still not asleep, unsurprisingly. A single light emits from his wand, highlighting his wide eyes and unsettling expression as he reads the book of myths he always reads. He doesn’t spare them a glance as they make their way to the bathroom, but he does nod subtly without looking up.

“Hi, Ev,” Regulus greets casually as he passes by, snagging his silk pajamas from his bed.

When the bathroom door closes, Barty locks it as Regulus undoes the buttons and straps of his outfit. He leans against the door as he watches carefully and with adoration as his lover curses under their breath at the overly complex parts of their dress before fully stripping themselves from it, leaving Regulus only in the long undershirt and corset he stubbornly refuses to take off lest he becomes a hunchback like their mother fears. 

Barty tries not to make fun of him too much for that.

He walks over and takes a moment to admire the freckles sprinkled all over and a slight blush brushed over their collarbones and shoulders. As hands rest on their waist, Regulus turns around.

“Loosen the back, would you?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

In the beginning, Barty was only ever vaguely familiar with the mechanics of a corset. He remembers his mother wearing it for some time before she started getting more ill and he’s never taken an interest in wearing one, unlike his father, they were too constricting for his liking. 

It wasn’t until he and Regulus grew closer did he learned to tighten or loosen the strings for there was nothing more intimate than hearing the way Regulus’ breath evens out with every string undone by Barty. Most, if not all the time, it would only ever be just the two of them in the bathroom, late in the night. After that, Barty would press soft kisses with his hands under Regulus’ long shirt carefully running over the smooth skin. They would stay like that for an undetermined amount of time before brushing their teeth and heading to bed, and this time, it was no different.

“I’ll go with you next time,” Barty said softly, trawling the string around his finger, “I promise.”

“You don’t have to,” Regulus replies, “you’re busy, and it’s not like Slughorn is your biggest fan either.”

“Even more reasons to,” Barty grins, “and what type of boyfriend would I be if I’m not there to defend your honor? There are too many snobby and entitled members, I have to scare them off.” 

“As if anyone is good enough for Blacks,” Regulus scoffs, the air of arrogance from birth prevalent around him.

“Lucius?”

“Narcissa wanted him, not the other way around.”

“How about me?”

“You know exactly why,” is Regulus’ settled reply after a couple seconds of silence.

“Tell me again,” Barty leans down and presses his lips to their shoulder, “I want to hear it again.” He mumbles against the freckled skin. He’s loosened the corset but Regulus has not yet taken off the garment, leaving him free to toy with the strings, twirling them around his finger in a comforting motion. 

His lover tells him. The same words again and again. The same words that Barty will never tire of. The same words that increase the hole in his heart that craves for more of what Regulus gives in love.

[starstruckkittensweets]

"Promise Me" | Gojo x Reader

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Words: 2.3k

A/N: no one talk to me, this is my way of coping with the latest chapter. This week is not a fun one for us Gojo lovers. Also this scenario has probably been written a thousand times at this point (thanks a lot Gege) but here's my two cents on the matter (go figure, my first official Gojo post and he's fuckin dead)

Warnings: JJK 236 SPOILERS, mentions of fem!reader, nightmares, brief mentions of violence/gore, pet names (baby, sweets, pretty girl), very self-indulgent and I apologize for that

Nightmares are a common occurrence in your line of work; you knew that even before you agreed to take the job. Usually you can stand them when they hit. Staring into the shadows of your bedroom, wide eyes raking over every little thing inside, too scared to even move a muscle. Knowing that, once you do, the illusion will vanish. The fear will go away, bit by bit, until you feel comfortable enough to fall back asleep.

Till the next morning, when you can’t even remember what you were so afraid of.

But this time is different. Your body isn’t frozen at all; you don’t snuggle deeper into the blankets, praying that they’ll be enough to protect you from whatever creatures lurk in the night. In fact they’re suffocating—but even when you throw them off you’re still heaving like a madman. Cold sweat clamming up your skin. Hands trembling at your sides. Eyes nearly bursting from your skull when you realize the other side of the bed is empty.

Empty, empty—where is he? Where did he go?

Was your dream not actually a dream after all?

You’re shaking so hard when you force your way out of bed. Nearly toppling over your own two feet as you stumble out of the bedroom. The door’s cracked open, but there aren’t any lights on, where is he, where the fuck is he?!

Another step, round the corner, and suddenly you smack face first into something hard. A soft oof reaches your ears, and through the darkness and the veil of your tears, you can barely make out the two blue lights glowing at you from above.

“Whoa, careful! Sorry about that, almost didn’t see you there. What’re you doing up so late, baby?”

Your eyes are still blurry, no matter how many times you blink. But you can still see him, his hair messy from sleep, wearing nothing but a pair of old sweatpants. He offers a lazy smile, but it drops almost instantly when he sees the tears spilling down your burning cheeks.

“…Hey, what’s wrong?”

Maybe it’s the tender tone of his voice, the soft way he speaks those three simple words. Or maybe it’s the fact you can see his eyes dim ever so slightly, signaling he’s turned off his technique for the moment. Or maybe it’s just knowing that he’s here, still alive and breathing and in one fucking piece, that makes you lose control. (Not that you had very much to begin with, but still.)

He visibly jolts at the shrill wail that rips from your throat, his whole body rigid as you throw yourself against his chest. Tiny arms wrapped around his waist, nails digging into his muscular back. Almost as though you’re scared he’ll disappear, anchoring him to you with every bit of strength you have.

What does he do? You’re obviously in distress, but why? He’d just left to get a glass of water, he’d been gone for less than five minutes! And now you’re blubbering like a child into his bare chest, sobbing so loudly he’s surprised none of your neighbors have come banging on your door.

“Baby, come on,” he tries, but the pet name only seems to make you cry harder. He winces before taking hold of both your shoulders. He doesn’t bother trying to pry you away; no need to make you even more upset. “You gotta tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you if I don’t know.”

Damn it, everything he’s saying is just making it worse. He hates seeing you cry like this. So tiny and frail, curling into his chest, incoherent words and noises spilling from your lips. You won’t answer him or let go of his body, no matter how many times he tries to convince you.

Does he just ride it out and let you finish? What if you pass out? Will you still remember any of this by the time you wake up tomorrow? Was it something he said earlier that made you this upset? He wracks his brain, trying to see if any of his earlier teasing struck a nerve within you. He doesn’t recall saying anything that could prompt this kind of reaction out of you…

Then again, what could? You’re his girl, his other half (as he’s quick to remind you and everyone else within earshot). Strong but soft, a capable sorcerer climbing the ranks with ease. You have an unshakeable character, sticking true to your values and morals no matter what. It’s one of the reasons why he fell in love with you in the first place. Not just anything could resort you to a crying, trembling mess in his arms.

He sucks in a deep breath and tries again. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong. I promise I’ll make it all better, I swear!”

And he’s just about to bribe you with some of the sweets he’s stashed away in the kitchen when you lift your head from his chest. Cheeks hot and tearstained, and yet you’re still so beautiful.

“S-sorry,” you barely manage to choke out. Your throat’s practically on fire, and you can already feel a monster of a headache coming on. “I…I had…”

He doesn’t say anything. He simply wipes your tears away with his thumb, waiting patiently for you to finish.

“…I had a bad dream…”

It sounds so fucking childish when you say it out loud. Should’ve just kept your mouth shut, gone back to bed once you saw he was okay. What do you expect he’ll do about it, huh? Not like he can erase your bad memories, no matter how strong he might be.

But that hole in your chest is still there, even after all that crying—

And you can’t help it anymore. You press your palms to your face, desperately trying to rid your fact of all those tears. Wanting to save at least some of your dignity before the night’s over.

A pair of warm hands close over your wrists, his touch surprisingly gentle as he pulls your hands away. Exposing your teary, blubbering face to those beautiful blue eyes. The mere thought makes you want to cry all over again.

“C’mon now, you’re too pretty to cry like that.” The corner of his mouth is quirked up in a smile, his messy hair hanging over his eyes as he tilts his head to meet your gaze. He catches another tear on his thumb, making sure to wipe it away before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I don’t like seeing you all upset like that.”

“B-but”—oh fuck, here you go again—“you were…you were dead!”

You can still remember everything so clearly. The blood trickling from his mouth. The glazed look in those dull eyes. How fucking fast it all seemed to happen. One moment he was fine, breathing and smiling as usual, and the next he was staring up at the sky. You didn’t even hear his body drop to the ground.

So much blood, it’s not supposed to be out of your body like that, why couldn’t I save you, why couldn’t—

“I’m sorry!” you blurt out, even as he takes you in his arms and pulls you against his chest. “I wasn’t enough to save you! You were dead and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it!”

You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, but for whatever reason, talking about this seems to help. Your chest feels a bit lighter than it did before, even if your heart’s as heavy as a stone.

“You’re not supposed to die! And I know that’s stupid of me to say, everyone dies at some point, but you always say you’re the strongest! No one can hurt you, even if they tried! So why—”

Your voice catches in your throat, tears still streaming down your face. He still holds you close, one arm around your waist, his other hand resting on the back of your head.

“…Why did you leave me? You said you’d never leave me, no matter what! But you did—and I let it happen—I’m so fucking sorry, Satoru, I just—”

You’re running out of steam, you can feel it in your bones. Too exhausted to cry anymore, probably too burnt out to even walk back to your room. But before you can even try he’s lifting your face in his hands, tracing your swollen lips with his thumb.

Smirking down at you like there’s nothing wrong in the world.

“Why are you sorry, sweets? If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. Sorry that dream version of me was such a cheap imitation.” He rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Like I’d let myself get killed like that.”

“S-Satoru, I’m serious!”

“And so am I.” And you can see it in his face—the way his eyes practically burn into yours, his mouth set in a tight line, his jaw clenched even when he forces out the words. “I said I’d never leave you, right?”

You sniffle out, “Y-yeah…”

“And I meant it. So no matter how many bad dreams you might have of me,” he curls his hands around your thighs and lifts you up effortlessly, securing your body against his chest, “just know that they’re dreams. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Slowly, he begins to carry you back to your room. Your arms find their way around his neck, fingers burying their way into his soft white hair. You’ll never get over how strong he is, how amazing he is—and how of all the people in the world, he chose to share the rest of his life with you.

Not strong enough to save himself from dying.

Your throat fills with bile at the thought, even as he settles you back down against the mattress. Back in the place where your nightmare occurred, where you saw his body and all that blood—

“Don’t leave me!”                                      

“Baby, I wasn’t even planning on it.” Damn, this nightmare really messed with your head, huh? “I’m staying right here with you, alright?”

You won’t disappear on me again? You won’t leave me alone like you did in that dream, right?

He seems to see right through you, given the soft expressing in those dazzling blue eyes. “I promise, I won’t leave your side. Not tonight, not ever.”

It takes a few moments for the two of you to get situated in bed; Satoru ends up having to do most of the work, since your arms and legs are still trembling uncontrollably. But the second the blankets are back around you, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest. Long legs tangling with yours, his breath warm against the crown of your head.

Lips soft as they press a thousand kisses to your forehead.

“I don’t know what kind of curse you dreamt of, but if I ever came across something like it one of these days…” He leans down, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “…I’d win, hands down.”

“You’d better.” Your head’s pounding something fierce, every bone in your body screaming for some proper rest. And it starts to feel normal, being wrapped up in Satoru’s arms. “…Otherwise, I’d have to kick your ass.”

He lets out a laugh before nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. His long eyelashes tickle your skin, his lips sweet and warm when they finally find your own.

“I’m sure you would. Although, I’d never let that happen; I’ll make sure to win every single fight, I swear! Don’t wanna make my pretty girl worry about me.”

But you’re always going to worry about him. It’s in your blood, comes with the territory of keeping this relationship alive. And maybe it’s stupid, maybe he is strong enough to never have to worry about himself in a fight. But there’s always going to be that part of you that wonders if he’s going to make it home tonight.

You tilt your head, eager to taste his lips again. Like your life depends on it, and the thought makes him smirk.

“Aww, can’t get enough of me, sweets?”

“…Shut up.”

But he knows he’s right. And you know he’s right. Doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud, though.

“You know I meant it, right?” Suddenly he’s holding your face again, brushing his nose against your own. His voice strangely soft as he leans in close, warm breath ghosting over your face. “’M not leaving you. Never, ever, ever!”

That gets a smile out of you. Weak and pitiful, but a smile nonetheless. At least he’s earnest. At the end of the day, he means well when it comes to you.

“I know you won’t. …So thank you.” You return his hug, sneaking your hand between your bodies and pressing it against his chest. Your throat growing tight when you feel the familiar b-bmp of his heart against your trembling palm. “Thank you for staying with me.”

There’s that tiny voice in the back of your head, urging you not to listen to such pointless promises. Knowing that deep down, neither of you can stop death when it comes knocking at your door. No matter how much power he possesses, even Satoru Gojo can’t resist death’s clutches when they finally sink their claws into him.

But there’s time for you to deal with all of that in the future. Right here, right now, he’s safe and sound in your arms. Messy white hair tickling your neck as he nibbles on the skin of your earlobe. Making you giggle as he brushes the rest of your tears away.

And thanking whatever deity may be listening above that you get to spend just one more night with him, wrapped up in his arms with his lips against your own.

[kaihuntrr]

The Sea Prince: The ‘Red King’, Noblemen, and Hunters.

After exactly 3 months(?) of posting the first batch of designs, I’m finally able to send the second batch! TIES and their lore would be last, since they aren’t hunters- it feels right to finish up the Canaries, especially with the prologue coming out soon.

Closeups and lore under the cut as always, hope you enjoy!

They were so much fun to design! I wanted to reference other smps they were involved in, and try to make them stand out! While I am taking from Pirates SMP as inspiration, Cleo and Scar’s designs come from my interpretations before Pirates came out <3

Let’s start out from the individuals!

‘The Nobles’, children from high places.

A fun fact about all of them is that they come from relatively rich families! Be it in how they dress or act, they have a sense of formality. It was also a way to ‘separate’ them from the other hunters since they weren’t in the latest series :D

‘Ren Dogwarts.’

The suave and charming former leader of the Kestrels, Ren’s heart is as golden as the jewelry he wears. He claims to be related to the King, and dubs himself as the ‘Red King’ to take down the sea monsters in his name. He loves his crew, and loved Martyn much more. His feelings begin to waver when the blonde’s loyalty changes. He knew Martyn loved his former crew, but… their relationship tensed as the fateful day arrived. Now that he’s dead, Martyn’s heart is pained with guilt.

The red coat he wears is a supposed gift from the King, the hat and feather a gift from the Kestrels. The tie he wore is similar to the bandana Martyn wears, as if it were the same item.

‘Mumbo Jumbo.’

A nobleman and childhood friend of Grian’s, he spends his time researching about the different monsters they come across and report his findings to the Doctor, the royal inventor. He is very analytical, coming up with theories for certain creature behaviors and is very much not a fighter compared to other hunters. Due to his connection to Doc and his time in the military, the crew found themselves personally hired by the King.

He has a telescope he keeps with him at all times. It was a gift from Jimmy. Mumbo used to joke about throwing it away, but it’s the most precious item he owns.

‘Lizzie Shadow.’

The inheritor of her parents’ pearl industry, she’s taking her time away from all of that to be with the Canaries. It’s not that she wants to run away from her responsibilities- but she’d rather face her fears of the ocean and truly conquering it before coming home. She acts as a pseudo captain to the crew, and is grateful for all the support she’s been given.

She wears a coat similar to Grian and Joel, and is decorated in pearls. She wears her engagement ring with pride, and ties some of her hair up in a braided hair tie. She taught Jimmy how to make those when he was younger.

‘Clockers’, the hunter-born.

Found family! All of their parents died when they were tweens, so they stuck by each other ever since. They’re a little chaotic, but they have essential roles in the crew.

‘Cleo Zombie.’

Level-headed and headstrong, they’re the stable wall in the Canaries. She uses her previous naval experience as an advantage against the vicious sea monsters. She feels linked to Martyn, being someone to ground him in his messy thoughts, but her focus is on Scar and Bdubs. Those two always get into trouble, and there are times she’d want to join in on the fun.

Her scars are stitched and healing, and she has a Heron necklace from her time in the group. She has a big pocket watch she keeps on her at all times, tied to string on her waist.

‘Scar Goodtimes.’

Living life to the fullest means you have to be ready to face the consequences head on. Nicknamed for the many scars on his body, the man embraces it all with a smile and a hunger for more. Nothing keeps him down, and with his boundless energy, nothing ever will. He keeps the morale high and uplifts anyone in times of need, but even he was distraught when the third captain died.

He wears a bandana as a gift from Cleo and a big pocket watch as a gift from Bdubs. He wears a small parrot feather earring from Grian, and sometimes absentmindedly stares at it with a sense of longing.

‘Bdubs.’

The feistiest of the Canaries since Jimmy, he has a bit of a rebellious streak. Either by sneaking out to meet with Impulse, or coming up with outlandish ideas, he’s a bit unhinged but his heart is in the right place. He’s brave and tough, but sometimes he worries he isn’t doing enough. Whatever- if his crew appreciates him for who he is, that’s enough.

He, like Cleo and Scar, has a big pocket watch he keeps on his belt. He has a knife at the ready and a sword necklace he got as a gift from Impulse. He treasures it dearly.

-

Everyone has their place in the crew, and together they are the Canaries. Favored by the King and thrusted upon the opportunity of a lifetime, their only goal now is to show they can do the task given despite how crazy it sounds.

They’re determined to give it all.

But what will happen if their target was right in front of them all this time? Will they ever see him the same way again?

Or were they nothing but playthings?

The prologue, ‘Hide & Seek’, is coming soon. Ready or not, here they come.

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

Here's another long-winded post about me combing through BG3 early access files in search of Aylin and Isobel tidbits - rummaging that already resulted in this post right here. Let me just say I'm pleased to have brought Aylin Silverblood some attention because, again, I think it's a dope name.

Now, obviously, Isobel and Aylin are both Act 2 characters, and early access only covered Act 1. So anything related to them is partial stuff that wasn't scrubbed from the game files for whatever reason, and a lot of placeholders (these are usually indicated by |the text being in vertical lines|). This all means that sometimes (usually!) there are no nice voice lines indexed by UUID and parseable dialogue trees, and you have to trawl through a giant localisation XML of every bit of text in the game instead. An additional complication is all these stories were in flux, but older bits of writing from deprecated iterations didn't get immediately removed from the files, so it's sometimes hard to tell what belongs to which version.

The biggest luck I've had with regards to these two is the 24/11/2021 version of the game - EA Patch #6 Hotfix #19, aka game version v. 4.1.1.1356845, aka the source of Aylin Silverblood (my beloved). Here's a handy list of the patch and hotfix history, if you're like me and interested in this stuff. I'm actually wrangling files from 5 versions of the game right now, ranging from March 2021 to July 2022 - it's been a fun time. This old datamining post on reddit really helped narrow down the timeframe for me to look into.

Why am I doing this? I genuinely find it fun and interesting! There's some neat writing to be found! I crave more Isobel at all times! And I'm always into WIP and "how the sausage is made" type stuff. Also, tons of cool inspo for fics and headcanons.

Note, because I know that's a popular EA tidbit: this is all from after the Halsin killing Isobel variant was scrapped. This is, in fact, the version where she gets killed and soul trapped by Balthazar, and Aylin gets framed for it.

I'm going to start this off with my favourite part, and that is snippets of an early version of the Aylin/Isobel reunion from 2021. I've done my best to put them in order, but be aware a lot of this is still me speculating.

|[CINE: Nightsong teleports the party to the plaza in front of Last Light. As she looks around trying to familiarize herself, Isobel notices your arrival from the balcony. Her reaction is pure shock, followed by an immediate rush down the stairs.]|

|[CINE: Isobel dashes out of the front of the inn, wide-eyed and out of breath. Nightsong stares at her, stunned.]|

Aylin: |(distant, shocked) Isobel.|

Isobel: |Aylin...|

|[CINE: Nightsong takes an instinctive step towards her but stumbles, collapsing to her knees, eyes blown with pain and disbelief. Isobel closes the distance between them in hasty steps, trying to help Nightsong up, but Nightsong tightly grips at her arms - as if the contact makes everything real.]|

|[CINE: Isobel's eyes fill with tears as she drops down to the ground, throwing her arms around Nightsong's shoulders in a tight embrace. Shaking, almost fearful, Nightsong returns the embrace - the first kind touch she's had in a hundred years.]|

|[CINE: Nightsong draws back from the hug, looking Isobel in the eyes. Isobel helps Nightsong to her feet. As the two of them stand, they keep their hands linked.]|

Aylin: |A hundred years. Isobel, light of my heart, where were you? (choking up) I found your body, I....|

Isobel: |I was dead, Aylin. For so long. It was Balthazar - he trapped my soul, he-|

Player: |[Doesn'tKnowRelationship] You were lovers? Did Ketheric know?|

Aylin: |(jaw tightens) We were lovers. Her father was against it. He saw nothing but future misery. I'm immortal. I would never age, but she would.|

Isobel: |He didn't understand. It doesn't matter when... (fearful, as if worried Aylin's feelings might have changed) ... I still love you so much.|

Aylin: |(her first genuine smile) And I, you. No trial or pain could ever change that. (relaxes a touch) It is why I couldn't leave your body, even when they came. Balthazar and that Sharran witch told your father that I was to blame.|

|And he believed them over you?|

Aylin: |(frowns) He believed what he wanted to believe. Ketheric saw his daughter dead, and he saw someone he wanted to hurt. Shar took that cruel thread, that moment of mortal pain, and used it to corrupt him to the core.|

Aylin: |I was put on trial, and I had no defence. The moment it was over, I was taken down to the temple and... well, you saw what they had done.|

|Isobel presses against Nightsong's side, face tight with worry, running her fingers in slow strokes up and down Nightsong's arm.|

|[CINE: Nightsong tilts her head back towards the player.]|

Aylin: |These heroes saved me. Without them, I'd still be trapped in Balthazar's soul cage, with Ketheric gripping my heart like a leech.|

|[CINE: Isobel's face falls at the mention of her father's name.]|

Isobel: |A *soul cage*? Gods.|

Isobel: |I didn't know. Gods, he didn't say a word to me. I ran away because it was Balthazar that brought me back. As I ran, I heard my father shouting... but I'd seen enough. There was no saving him.|

Aylin: |You are not your father, Isobel. (sad, wry smile) You were the only thing that kept me alive in the dark. When hope began to fade, I simply thought of you.|

Isobel: |[To player] Thank you. (smiles wide) I... I can't possibly thank you enough, for bringing Aylin back to me.|

|Nightsong smiles too, but she's lost looking at Isobel, completely tuning out everyone else around them. Isobel leans in, resting her brow against Nightsong's and closing her eyes, Nightsong's hand clutched to her chest.|

Then, there is an option to press Isobel for details:

|You said the necromancer trapped your soul. Why?| |Was Balthazar the one who killed you, Isobel?|

Isobel: |(hesitant, visibly guilty) I think Aylin would know better than I do. The last thing I remember is a blade in the dark. Too fast to feel pain. Then silence.|

Asking Isobel to go with you to Moonrise was possible at various points, leading to different responses:

Will you come with me to Moonrise? I could use your help. If we're going to stop Ketheric, you have to come with me.

Until there is a way to keep Last Light safe, I cannot leave. All I can do is pray. |Not if everyone is killed at Last Light in my absence. I'll do everything I can to help you from here, but I won't go with you.| |Not if everyone is killed at Last Light in my absence. If someone else could take my place, I would go with you. I swear it.|

|Nightsong is here, she will protect Last Light - let's go to Moonrise, like you promised.| |I want to spend the night with Aylin. Meet me at Moonrise tomorrow.| |Nightsong will protect the people while together we can stop Ketheric.|

Isobel: I... we need to get close to him, don't we? And Aylin can protect Last Light in my absence. Aylin: Isobel, I have just gotten you back. To put yourself in his hands again-

Looks like we would've had a flip of the current Act 2 boss fight, and Isobel would be the ally for the confrontation with Ketheric, not Aylin. Also, that one line right there that is our first indication of Succor™, gotta love it. Sadly, post-reunion I only have:

|TBD: Post Nightsong Reunion.| |How are you and Aylin doing?|

To borrow release version Isobel's stock line: KEEPING VERY WELL, I HOPE? In any case, I'm putting the rest under a cut, featuring options for calling Isobel out on her parentage, Aylin being from Mt. Celestia, and Balthazar being gross - among many other things.

At one point quite early on, Isobel's protection from the shadow curse wasn't a spell, but an ointment:

|Ointment of Selûne| |Ointment Container PLACEHOLDER| |Isobel filled this with precious doses of her sacred Ointment of Selûne.| |First get the ointment from Isobel.| Have you received Isobel's ointment yet? What protection can her ointment offer, exactly? You should see Isobel. If Marcus does crop up, I'd sooner you had her ointment to protect you. Can use that cleric's ointment to get you on your way. But I have to move out - now. Can I get some of your ointment? No more theories! It's time for action. Our secret weapon needs to travel to Moonrise Towers, which means they'll need your ointment. You have the ointment. You have the Gate Stone. Moonrise Towers awaits. Are you sure the ointment will last long enough?

What is now Isobel's Ominous Cough was a gradual weakening that was remarked upon and seemed to be there to create more of a sense of urgency:

I won't claim to know Isobel's craft, but Selûne's light is bright in her. Isobel's tough - though she was tougher at the start. I've rarely seen a cleric so in tune with her goddess, but the curse is taking its toll. The light used to be stronger, Isobel. How much more of this curse can you take? You look paler than death, Isobel. How much more of this curse can you take?

We have some nice concise infodumps on Ketheric:

After Ketheric turned to darkness, the Enclave joined with the Harpers to unseat him and his Sharran cohorts. We marched together, fought together, bled together... and in the end we prevailed.

Only it wasn't the end. Nothing seemed to kill Ketheric himself, so the Harpers decided to seal him in his own tomb, alive. They thought that would be enough. But they hadn't counted on Ketheric unleashing the shadow curse. We watched it drain all light and life away from this place, saw it twist people into abominations. The Harpers lost hope.

Ketheric wove the curse on this land. The moment he was sealed in that tomb, Shar's poison devoured everything in its path.

Fallen paladin. Champion of Shar. He was building an army bent on unholy conquest, but we stopped him. Killed him. Buried him.

It was not enough. General Thorm lives again. He's built a new army, and this time he marches under the banner of the Absolute.

November 2021 is the earliest mention of Aylin I found, mostly marked as not finalised and placeholder dialogue (and that reunion up there). The Nightsong as present in that patch is still very different from what we ended up getting - nobody was killing her, in fact people were coming to get her "kiss", and there was a whole thing where it seems like Shar would directly take control of her and you could help her overcome the curse, or abandon her to it - or kill her. 

Embrace the Nightsong and be sworn to Eternal Shadow.

Anyway, here are her lines (all of these exist as voice files, which is rare for stuff I put in this post - but they're done by a voice actress who doesn't sound like Helen Keeley, our final Aylin VA, so I don't know what to make of it all tbh):

Shar is the Nightsinger, and I am her Nightsong. I am her instrument, transforming the faithful into shadows. I've been here for centuries. Do you know how many priests of Shar came here, full of faith, seeking my kiss? I've been here for centuries. Thousands of Sharrans came here seeking my kiss. I drink their sorrow, their loss, their grief. Then I vomit it back into the world. All of them are shadows now. That is Shar's only reward. But Ketheric returned for my kiss, over and over. You're the first to survive my kiss intact. You're the only one who can help me. Please, you have to help. No one's ever resisted the kiss before. No one has ever resisted my kiss. But you are not merely *one*, are you? That thing in your head must be incredibly powerful to resist a goddess. Perhaps it's also divine in nature. Because a mind can't survive two masters. It breaks us. Shar's attention must be elsewhere. Speak quickly. She's watching now. She's waiting to steal my voice. But it won't last. Please - listen! I was captured by Ketheric Thorm, Shar's chosen. He turned me into this creature. I'm a slave of Shar. She owns me, just like that thing in your head owns you. I want to sing my own song. Not Shar's. Not *Ketheric's*. Find Ketheric. Kill him so I can be free! Slay Ketheric. His wretched existence binds me to this temple. Oh. That made her angry. The Lady returns! She has me again! *Again!* Stop! You've driven her away!

I am not your *spectacle*. Turn away before I strike you blind. Tell them to come and receive my kiss.

Some possible relevant tags, interactions, and outcomes include:

|The soul cage has greatly weakened Nightsong| |Debug: click to save Nightsong (sets the flag to talk to Isobel)| |We sided with Ketheric and doomed Nightsong.| |Companion comment!||But if his power is linked to this Nightsong, there must be a way to unlink it.| |You have taken control of Ketheric's Soul Cage| |You are bound to Ketheric's soul cage, taking his regenerative powers for yourself| |Bound to Soul Cage| |Soul Cage Key| |Soul Cage Research| |The book details the necromancer's research on the soul cage| |There is a glimpse of Isobel's ghost, as she takes her Father with her to the afterlife.| |There is a glimpse of Isobel's ghost terrified and in agony. Both Isobel and Ketheric will disappear.|

At one point Isobel delivers her own, Ketheric's, and Aylin's backstory as "a story", but sadly I can find very little of it, just disjointed fragments:

You seem to know a lot about Ketheric. He was a devout Selûnite who converted to Shar. They say it was Ketheric's purity that drew an angel down from Celestia. You're Isobel Thorm. The daughter who died in that story.

And there seem to be many options to question Isobel about her hiding the truth about her father:

Why are you lying to me, Isobel? Everyone thinks you're dead, Isobel. Tell me the truth, Isobel. Everything. Still, Isobel might have saved us some time had she been honest from the beginning. |Why didn't you tell me what happened from the start, Isobel?|

Ketheric. Don't you mean your father? Ketheric is your father. I know the truth. Ketheric told me at Moonrise. He wants me to bring you home. I need your father to trust me. He wants you back. You sent me after your father - Ketheric. I think we should discuss Ketheric - your father - first. For all you've said about Ketheric, you left out the part where he's your father.

To which I've found some responses:

And would you have trusted her? Ketheric's daughter? Why didn't I tell you that I was murdered, that my soul was locked away for a hundred years? What would I have told her? That my father murdered her fellow Harpers, but that I can surely be trusted?

[Attempt to read Isobel's thoughts.] *You see Ketheric standing before Isobel, although the memory is hazy. His words are unclear, but his tone is not - he is pleading with her.*

Brought back by the same man that killed me. Balthazar. Standing next to my father with a smile on his face.

But I'm not sure it would have mattered. To stand with that man, my father has surrendered to deepest evil.

I would love to know what the whole pleading thing is about, and what Isobel "didn't know" that she claims didn't matter anyway.

My father. After a century, he somehow brought me back. But I saw the monster he had become. I couldn't bear it... I ran. I ran until I found Last Light. It was like a second home to me, once. I've been studying the curse ever since, searching for answers. Trying to restore the damage my father has wrought upon this land. It's possible I may have to sacrifice myself. But this is my father's crime.

And then, there is this nugget I cannot place but that I like: 

|Your father's due will come.|

There is also an option to tell her Nightsong is Aylin (who was, at this point, a full celestial - no mention of being connected to Selûne, though, and in fact, if she was indeed from Mount Celestia as mentioned in the "story", she would not have been):

Isobel: My father's curse still blackens this earth. Have you found anything? Player: A celestial, chained to Ketheric's soul. Player: They called her Nightsong, but she told me her name was Aylin. Isobel: Aylin. She... she's alive. I knew she had to be, I… Player: Ketheric's necromancer took her to Moonrise. Isobel: His necromancer? Gods, you have to free her. Isobel: You have to go to Moonrise and free Aylin. When Ketheric is weak, this can all be over. Isobel: The truth is that I would give anything to see her again, and anything to stop my father. Free her, and you do both. Isobel: At least, the shell of my father. There's nothing left of the man that championed Selûne. Isobel: Find her. Free her. If Ketheric isn't stopped, all of us are doomed.

Player: |[Doesn'tKnowName] Aylin? Care to explain?| Isobel: The angel in my story about Ketheric. That was Aylin.

Speaking of Balthazar. Some lines from him:

[Introductory note: please imagine everything Balthazar says spoken with a wheezy voice, as if he's permanently out of breath.]

[I need to retrieve the Nightsong, but the temple is haunted and my minions cannot make it past the trial grounds. I cannot go there until the ghosts have been dealt with. Now that you are here on behalf of Ketheric, you will do all this for me.]

I, Fodder, am here on behalf of General Ketheric Thorm. Down in the depths of this temple writhes his desire. I am to bring it to him.

I created the Nightsong for General Ketheric, many moons... HEAR THAT SHAR? Many moons ago.

*As you hold the necromancer's mocking gaze, you can tell how it starts to dawn on him you are not the mere minion he thought you were.*

Along the way I found some more recent Patch 8 (2022-ish) gross Balthazar lines, some bits of which have actually survived to release:

She was a unique specimen even before I began my work. Aasimar. A god's blood united with mortal flesh.

Such fine clay she was. We grew quite close as I… remoulded her. Now she is General Thorm's shield. Her strength is his to drink upon. His pains are hers to bear.

If I never exceed her, I will still die happy. If I ever do something as gauche as truly dying, that is.

Utterly revolting! Makes my skin crawl! Man deserves a yeeting into the Shadowfell a hundred times over! But in order to not end on a gross note, I leave you with:

Ketheric Thorm. Murderer. Oathbreaker.

Aylin Silverblood. My true name. Nightsong was only ever a curse.

[swallowtailed]

palisade 62 / finalisade side b track 6

on palisade!

one thing about fatt, they can stick a landing. more specifically austin and jack by their powers combined can stick a fucking landing. tbh let me talk about the outro first, actually:

stunning final track. loved hearing it morph from the palisade theme into other tunes.

a joy to hear from parti one last time!! probably my favorite npc of this season.

and to lift back out into the frame of perfect imperfect as hosted by layer luxurious (broadcasting from the planet of palisade, which is a lovely touch)—it’s my audio drama past coming out, but i do so love a diegetic radio show. we were promised that we would hear the end of the perfect millennium! and we did! satisfying.

i wasn’t sold on the plot of this sortie, but janine brought it home—has been bringing it home all arc. her work in this finale has been really, really cool. super solid science fiction. going from questlandia back into armor astir felt like an odd zigzag—much like dipping into and back out of the mirage—but the thread of blossoming sentiences was very strong.

(would like to take time to dig into the thematic structure of this season, now that it's over, but for now i am just pointing at it)

god, just knowing that brnine survived, and continued the fight… that's a win. closing on them bantering with thisbe was, i agree, the perfect final image.

brnine’s gravity clock changing to “thisbe is an important part of my life”... thisbe saying they’re a good captain and asking to watch a movie, and brnine immediately teasing her… they’re friends ;-;

also—season about grief—it was jokes, but thisbe saying “i was stating a fact, i wasn’t mourning” and brnine replying “sounded like mourning to me”, and ending palisade on that exchange… a good note of closure on that theme, i felt.

there’s been a lot of excellent character work this season—brnine, thisbe, cori, figure, jesset, and august all stand out to me. i’m trying not to make this post too long but man. genuinely incredible stuff.

perennial blooming again with thisbe’s gift of the pollen was really lovely. as was all the imagery in that scene

thisbe throwing sixes to speak with perennial was so Dice Game. one last little bit of serendipity for the road.

also thisbe being integrated with various different ways of being is very “it’s not a field it’s a garden” to me

i am looking forward to seeing how they treat this new phase of the divine cycle, because a transformation like that of the divine arbor would be devastating to a lot of lifeways & ecologies. it is far from the only time this has happened in the divine cycle! but it’s a great chance to concretize that. kudzu and other invasive species were raised in a previous ep; i’m also reminded of area x from jeff vandermeer’s annihilation. what i would like to see: a focus on new social forms, cf scavengers reign. fatt typically does not dig into ecologies, land relationships, etc, but perhaps they will look more in that direction in the divine arbor’s new world? who knows. either way i’m gonna be sitting here talking about ecological readings because unfortunately i do think it’s important and relevant lmao. (while i’m talking on the season scale, this is something i really want to see in sangfielle as well. which is a setting that even more deserves some time spent on the land.)

cori’s scene with elle was great. her storyline this season has been so fun—losing none of the bravado, but coming more into herself. i thought she was gonna give elle some of her blood but a ritual knife is probably a better gift.

can’t wait to see where they’re at next divine cycle season!!

“if only you could get five more minutes” made me laugh

glad that levi made it out! starcrossed is a wild name for a team led by a guy who kicked off his career by defeating the fear of death—kinda thumbing his nose at fate—but it seems like he’s pulling it off so far.

can local plant-based organizing be a viable alternative to galactic capitalism? i sure fuckin hope so!!

leap vanishing with present would have been extremely space opera

perennial blue ribbon…

i did overall really enjoy this season. i think it’s their best yet, for character work and executing on big ideas. a sharper take on twilight mirage. it’s dense but it has momentum. they really do get better every season imo... like my season ranking does kinda just go directly up in chronological order

god. palisade.

stay tuned~

(also, while we’re here, thanks for reading! this is something like the sixtieth of these weekly palisade ep posts, which is wild. it’s been a weird year and a half, personally—a lot of time in motion—but tuning into palisade every week and then thinking and discussing together has been really fun. so shoutouts!)

[brucewaynehater101]

That Waltz's World ask about how much Tim would be kidnapped opened my eyes to how there is too much you can do with its personalized appearances

Just the angst of Batman and Oracle and Dick looking at Robin and calling it Little Wing or Jason again and again

((I have come to the realization that if Tim is repeatedly mistaken for Jason, it's gonna get misgender loads during that time as well, fuck))

Just imagine Red Hood looking at Robin and seeing the features of Damian under it's costume, not just her baby brother, but even all those street kids and women they give their all to protect

Hell maybe Red Hood sees herself back when she was Little Wing, back when they were magicless Jason

If Red Hood still goes through with beating the everloving shit out of her successor, maybe right before Nightwing gets to the scene—

—Red Hood sees what their body felt like it did in the warehouse, and when she looks down at her own hands, her body on top of Little Wing's . . .

. . . She sees The Joker instead of Red Hood, a crowbar instead of blades

((because Tim's magic is going into overdrive trying to keep it alive and now the illusions are extending to more people than just Tim here))

Now let's throw a bone for Tim and say that once it itself has become someone another truly cares for, that person stop seeing the illusion and starts seeing what Tim actually looks like in Waltz form

And since the illusion's implied to apply to Tim itself, maybe once Tim has accepted itself at long last, it sees what it truly looks like in Waltz form

Maybe instead Tim's acceptance of itself is the final piece required for the illusion to cease for those that care and are invested in Tim and (Red) Robin's wellbeing already or do in the future, plus itself

Oh yeah, what do rogues think of Red Robin? I bet Mr. Freeze sees Nora in it, that'll throw him off his a-game

Freeze won't like that Red Robin just looks like somebody you deem most precious of all will he?

Oh God what do general Gothamites think of the fact Red Robin's illusions are tailormade to make people think "I have to protect & treasure you" ???

Imagine it gets called an honorary mind-controller for shits and giggles and it's funny until outsiders take the joke to seriously and now they're hunting down Red Robin 💀💀💀💀

And no outsiders takes the Gothamite's or other bats word that it was only a joke and Red can't mind controll seriously, especially since the illusions convince the outsiders of their delusions further 💀

Maybe Scarecrow accidentally huffs some of his own fear toxin and seeing Red Robin afterwards he goes ballistic; kidnaps the vigilante and defends it with his life during his drug trip

I don't have any other ideas rip

Too much fun you can do with Tim being the most kidnappable vigilantr that people want to kidnap because they wanna protect it

The Waltz's World AU is so very dear to me. Gods, I love it so much.

As far as your additions, I agree. The amount of angst you could squeeze out of Tim's form is tremendous (between continuously being treated as a replacement/stand-in for someone else [and not being precious because of itself], and the misgendering. Poor fucking Tim).

I also really like the addition you added of Tim's magic trying to protect it so there's the added illusion on top of Red Hood. I wonder what repercussions Tim faced due to that last spurt of desperation from its magic.

Red Robin is trying to mind its own business and then out of towners keep trying to capture/kill it due to "brainwashing." Damn. Can it catch a break?

Also, I'm curious if Tim would feel most comfortable around Solomon Grundy. At the very least, he wouldn't try to use Tim as a stand-in (depending on Grundy's characterization).

[yellowhollyhock]

what are some of the strengths and weaknesses of 1987 Michelangelo’s character? I have the hardest time writing for him outside of the super obvious “surfer bro” persona honestly

tbh,, I rarely write for 87... they're too witty,,, I have some wips but as far as writing the 87 boys are definitely not my strength

That said! 1987 Michelangelo! Love that guy. hmmm strengths and weaknesses

Weaknesses

-he can be clueless at times. needs things explained multiple times or doesn't pick up on things other characters were counting on him picking up on. this can be a very useful for plot reasons, he can simply forget what he was told or not understand it and therefore fail to act on it

-very obsessed with pizza. more so than the other turtles

-along that vein, generally not difficult to distract

-hard to motivate. he mostly wants to make himself and those around him comfortable, and he's very good at finding simple easy ways to do that. So whatever task needs to be done for whatever other reason, better find a way to make it comfortable and fun, he has a high threshold. For example during training sometimes he would simply rather enjoy the nice weather and there is nothing Master Splinter or anyone else can say

-this goes with hard to motivate, but in the ep where Leonardo leaves and the others have to try to lead, when it's his turn he's just very passive. he is pretty good about knowing what needs done, but he is definitely not one to take charge, and more than likely he'll wait to be told what to do unless the situation is very urgent

-he does not enjoy watching pro-wrestling, to his brothers' dismay

Strengths!!

-sweetest heart of all time. brings home injured animals, takes them to the zoo so he can learn about how to take care of them or give them to someone who can

-btw he can talk to animals

-often is the one tending to his brothers if they're sore after a battle. not first aid, but like fluffing a pillow or just patting their back. He probably holds their hand while antiseptic is applied. Definitely hugs them when they cry

-very loyal. throws a birthday party for Irma. never believes something bad he hears about someone he knows (he'll say "no way, amigo" if someone who isn't present to defend themselves is accused of literally anything)

-strong moral compass, AND

-the ability to communicate persuasively about what he thinks is right. More often than not he uses the same sentence (what you're doing is majorly wrongiouso) (or something like that siahdhsj), but it's the way he says it amd the timing that's important. He understands people, and as much as he always sees the best in them, he also knows how to bring out the best in them. Idk I don't think I'm explaining it too well, but... he's not just blindly trusting. Trust is a choice he makes out of kindness, but then he will hold people to a standard. Does that make sense?

-great with kids

-he's a good mediator, hears out both sides

-faces his fears (he has the most stage fright of them all but by the end of the ep where they appeared on camera he was also handling it the best)

-he can put his foot down when he needs to. very cool trait for the Nice Guy character to have, y'know?

-not afraid to emote! sobs openly because the stove is broken! hugs! speaks up when he is upset! expresses joy for the little things! 🧡

-psychic (i think? probably? might not know it? i remember feeling like it was implied but I'd have to go find the episode(s) alskjdjvf) (pretty sure it wasn't explicit but like. he's psychic okay)

-so much patience

-everyone loves the way he talks. they're always mimicking him. i remember one time when Leonardo asked a question, Michelangelo was standing right there, and Donatello literally said, "Well as Michelangelo would say" and then said what Michelangelo would say and was in fact about to say, then Michelangelo went to say it and got all confused alfjshsjj. Also Shredder will do this too! And you know you're good when Shredder copies you. He had aspirations of being a writer before he turned to villainy, you know (or maybe you didn't but now you do)

[seneon]

heyy, i dunno if you still take requests but can you make oneshot with rayne x anorexic gn! reader, how he find this and react, also how he helps the reader??

i've been struggling with ed for 2 years and still trying to recover, i guess it's going good :')

btw that's ok if you don't wanna write, i love your works, tysm <33

take it easy ──── ft. rayne ames x anorexic gn! reader.

about. rayne finds out his s/o has anorexia and tries to help them. warning: sensitive topics about ed. | 0.6K words.

notes. hi anon! i hope you're doing well. i'm actually proud at the fact that your ed is going good, keep it up!! if you need any help or just someone to talk to, my dms are always open yayyaya. ily anon tysm for requesting! also, i'm not experienced with writing ed, but i'll try my best (:

honey-coloured eyes watched in observation as e/c ones shifted around in uneasiness. your eyes were looking around the food that was on the table, served fresh and awaiting to be eaten.

what could go wrong with the freshly served food that you yourself ordered?

that was what confused rayne ames, your boyfriend, who's currently on a date with you. he hasn't gotten the time to eat or spend time with you in a while, and this was his only chance for the week. so why was he feeling a sense of uneasiness that was just . . . there the moment he met up with you? why did asking you out for a lunch date felt like it's something difficult for you to say yes to?

rayne ames didn't know the answer to that, but if his lover who looks forward to spending time with rayne at any free moment has difficulties of agreeing, he's going to find out what's wrong.

"y/n, why are you not eating? is the food not to your liking?"

ah, food. a subject that even disgusts you from the very sound of it. something you've been avoiding in a while.

when rayne proposed a lunch date, it had you right in a pinch. it was something you didn't want him to find out in the most ridiculous ways possible. something about even consuming a single piece of solid food gave you a grave fear that it might cause harm on you internally.

the fear of gaining weight and being made fun of society that exceeded the average weigh scares you so much. it scared you to the point where you viewed food as something to not be consumed, but to be portrayed as a primordial fear.

it was difficult for you to even look at rayne when he asked two simple questions. you didn't have an answer for either questions, so your lips remained sealed and your eyes adverted it's gaze to the table where you shut your nose to not inhale anymore of the food's smell.

"have you been having trouble with eating..?" rayne asked silently, barely a whisper but audible to you. his face is a sad one, full of sympathy for the worst outcome to come out your mouth.

but he listened. to your every single word. the difficulties you've been having with the people around you focusing on your image, sheer and utter fear of gaining weight, the times where you throw up each time after trying to consume even the littlest amount of food.

even as you speak about your difficulties, rayne felt his heart broken. he hasn't been there with you all this time when you were going through such a difficult time. he felt like guilty for not being there for you. it was just the weight of guilt that now rests in his very own shoulders.

rayne stood up from his seat and embraced you in a hug, a token of compensation that he wasn't there for you whenever you needed him the most. thus he apologised over and over again, telling you words that means so much to you.

slowly by slowly, as days passed by, rayne skipped out on many of his duties, telling the other divine visionaries to help him for a period of time. in that period, he tries his best to encourage you with little portions of food, telling you to eat and trying his hardest to reassure you affirmative words that was only meant for you.

it took a while to do so, but rayne always told you 'take it easy' and it always manages to make you feel at ease.

with the help of rayne by your side, you felt like you could feel most comfortable and safe as you definitely will take everything easy now.

for if you are going to bear such a heavy burden, rayne will surely do it with you.

together.

[lostonehero]

PLEASE elaborate on the werewolf Elias idea omfg

That sounds so interesting

Hope you're ready for a lore dump

So Elias 7th born werewolf actually a big terrifying wolf during the full moon

Problem

Elias can not grow facial hair and has little to no body hair, which is incredibly rare, and he's thin and small, which again is abnormal for a natural born werewolf first off, so he is easily mistaken as human

Second fears are entirely separate from this supernatural side so Jonah has no fucking idea about any of it and thinks it's fake and doesn't exist because again removed from the fears or the fears have a bastardized version of the creature (ex stranger changling hunt wolf end vampire etc etc)

Jonah doesn't choose who his eyes get placed in the Beholder does (this is cannon to my fics fight me) so the whole things happens and Elias isn't dead surprise they are sharing a body. Jonah doesn't let Elias have control.

Jonah gets settled and can't marry Peter because Elias is born male. Move in together in the span of two weeks.

(Fun fact another cannon to my fics. Jonah is originally a Trans man. I just wanted to put that out there)

Elias is throwing alarm bells as it gets closer and closer to the full moon. Jonah thinks he is crazy and doesn't understand why he isn't gone yet.

Peter likes that Elias is in their, spices things up, but he does roll with the werewolf thing and uses every version of a puppy nickname.

Elias is basically trying to force himself in control and tries amd fails to get Jonah to get Peter to leave right until the moon rises

The morning after comes

Elias has control

Jonah is fucking confused and slightly scared to see everything a mess Peter has bloody bandages on.

"I told you to eat more, but noooo I'm the fucking crazy one." Elias huffs as he puts a pair of boxers on in the mess. "I'm crazy werewolves aren't real. Like here's your fucking proof asshat."

Jonah is too stunned to fight back for control, which he won't get until Elias lets him

"I haven't turned anyone since I was born and you fucking ruined that." Elias finds his phone through the mess and dials a number he knows by heart. "Hush up you damn vic- edwardian cunt." He sighs. "No, Oliver, I wasn't talking to you. Look, it's complicated. I'll text you the address, and yes, I did turn someone, but like, I'm also possessed by one Jonah Magnus.... yes, I know.... well how the fuck was I suppose to know I would get his eyes? Ok... yeah, that would be great. No, I can clean up. You don't have to help it's not as bad as I thought.... yeah that would be nice... what do I owe you? Don't give me that just because... fine, fine, you're right... thanks, man."

Time passes Peter is carried into bed and tea is placed on the bedside table and the apartment is cleaned before there is a knock.

"You got an end avatar to help us?" Jonah stares at Oliver, who answers the door.

Elias sighs heavily. "He's not just an end avatar, Jonah. Oliver is a vampire he was turned around the black death, and not one of the fear ones. Sorry, I'm still getting used to sharing a body. You can come in. I just finished cleaning, Peter is inside in bed, but he still hasn't woken up. He just got the fever yaknow."

Oliver steps in holding up two large bags. "I got all the stuff you need for yourself and him. You look like shit."

"Thanks." Elias sighs, taking a bag. "The asshole wouldn't listen when I said eat more, and I just barely started to get a bit of fat on my body too. That's gone. At least I know all his suit fittings are ruined."

Oliver sighs, but it sounds like a wheeze. "I'll look over Peter for you. Hopefully, he isn't having a bad reaction to the bite. Oh yeah, let our group know the whole deal with Jonah and sharing a body. I also got the paperwork started for Peter when he feels well enough to well you know grip what happened."

Elias nods. "Yeah, I get it."

Jonah has no idea what is going on and is freaking out

This entire conversation Jonah is freaking out and Elias is just ignoring him