#and I think that that’s ultimately a step back?

[saintobio]

☆ sorry for disappearing…

when i decided to put my blog on private, it was the only solution i could think of to end my dilemma. a dilemma that sprung from the anxiety i get whenever i log into tumblr, realizing i’m keeping people waiting over an update that hasn’t happened in almost a year. i wish there was a better way to describe how i felt, but there’s just so much pressure and anxiety that accompany a writer who has an on-going series of a popular jjk character.

if you’ve been with me since 2021, you probably know the struggles i faced before i ultimately left my blog archived. back then, i never imagined i would return to running this blog. but it was my love for writing that brought me back, hoping i could start fresh as long as i knew how to set boundaries between myself and the people consuming my fics. and i could say, all was going well, until…

until i get daily messages about how it’s taking me so long to update a certain series, how i’m writing too much for another fandom, how i’m never fulfilling my promises of posting an update. it must be the trauma, but the unease of existing on tumblr began to build up inside me, reminding me of the days when i was made to feel like i did something wrong for simply posting. with that, i had grown paranoid, thinking that every time i check my notes, there would always be one or two person sending me the most ridiculous messages/comments.

i never realized just how much my experience in 2021 scarred me ‘til this day.

and the only remedy i could think of was to escape. or hide. or be unseen. for my peace of mind, for the silence. all while thinking no one’s really going to notice.

but logging in again made me realize that there are people i’ve disappointed for my sudden disappearance, people who wished me nothing but good things, people who genuinely supported me in and out of this blog, people who appreciate my works even if i’m no longer as active. to those people, i want to say i’m sorry, and that i assure you that i’m doing better.

however, i also hope that i’m not just seen as the writer who only wrote sincerely not. i hope that i’m given the same amount of support and liberty to write for characters and stories that i’m equally passionate about. wherever my hyper-fixations take me, i hope i’m not treated as if i’ve abandoned what my blog was known for. i never wanted to feel caged by writing only sn/sy. i need the space to explore other characters, other genres, before i lose myself in the pressure of just producing.

if you’re still here, thank you. i can’t promise to be fully back, but i’ll take it one step at a time.

love, saint.

[fat-muffins]

Explanation and clearer images under cut!

First attack was for my best friend @vesselai! I wanted to take on something easy and fun to draw while also stepping out of my comfort zone (I have never watched IZ in my life) and get a feel for how AF worked!

Latest attack was for my friend DarlingJen whilst I was doing a Tarot theme for my attacks last year! I ended up getting burnt out unfortunately, but I was going through a small Spiderverse fixation and was excited to draw our sonas together!

My most time consuming and point-heavy attack was my Dutch Angel Dragon mass attack from Bloom vs Wither! I wanted to take in a big challenge while also having fun with it, and the background alone took me two hours to draw! I had to cram hard to finish it in time because I worked the last day of AF and wouldn’t be home in time to finish it before the fight ended- stayed up until 7 AM to get that piece done and I’m so proud of how it turned out!

And finally, my favorite attack! I had trouble narrowing it down, but ultimately I think it has to be the one I did for my friend @hallow-graves! I love the way I managed to get the lighting and I’m happy with the pose and movement in the piece.

Some of the other pieces I was tossing back and forth between for favorite were my attacks for nnmiss during Werewolf vs Vampire, NukeFur during Bloom vs Wither, and StormHeart413 during Steampunk vs Cyberpunk!

For nnmiss, this character was one of the first I’d attacked before and I meant to give more effort than I was able to, so I returned to him and gave it a little more oomf than the first time and I’m very happy with the result!

NukeFur’s is a very simple attack, but even with low spoons I’m still very happy with the emotion that I was still able to portray with the piece. I put all the effort into the character but still managed to make the background give the energy I wanted it to; suspenseful and dark.

And for StormHeart413, this was one of the first attacks me and my friend from middle school were able to reach out and reconnect to each other with. I was very happy to see them start using it as an icon both for profiles and on TH for the character, it felt like when I was a kid and my great grandmother would hole punch my drawings to keep them all in a binder. It felt warm and happy.

Hello Art Fighters, let's take a blast to the past! We created some templates for you to share your art journey through previous Art Fight attacks. Feel free to fill them out and tag us!

Transparent images can be found on our website at https://artfight.net/info/prompts.

We can't wait to see everyone's journey so far!

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Tunnel Vision - Minho

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: bad boy! Minho x student! reader

summary: You can't stand the boy that sits behind you in class. He's rude, arrogant and a huge Playboy. and now you're paired with him for your newest poetry assignment.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, Playboy Minho, heavy kissing, groping.

It's not that you hated your new poetry course. Just one specific person in your new poetry class. Minho would show up late or sometimes not at all. And when he did bother to show up, he would sit at the desk behind yours. He would lean into your ear and ask you what he missed.

His breath would be warm against your neck and the first time he whispered, you actually felt butterflies. You were nice and smiled. You would turn your head and tell him in hushed tones what he had missed. He'd notice the slight flush in your cheeks and it would make him smirk because he knew. He knew that your head was pounding because of him.

But then one day after the class had ended a girl had pushed her way through a crowd of students to get to him. She yelled and cried because he never called her again. She told him he was an asshole and his response was “what's your name again?”

So now when Minho strolls into class late and takes his seat behind you, you keep your head forward. You suffocate the butterflies in your stomach and square your shoulders. You refuse to be another notch on that man's belt. You refuse to let him make you feel so warm and wet and so-

“I think I'll partner you with Minho this week.”

Your eyes flash to the front of the class where the teacher is looking directly at you. “No, no I can't. I…” you plead but the teacher just shakes his head and hands you the newest template for the poetry course this week.

Minho's dorm room was exactly as you expected. Messy, unkempt, a real boy's place. As the two of you stepped inside he off the cuff mentioned he had a roommate but the two of you should be undisturbed for the night.

“Who's your roommate?” You ask as you pull a few textbooks out of your bag. Your voice was flat and ultimately uninterested but you needed to make some kind of small talk to cut through this tension of being in Minho's living room. Minho rummaged through his fridge and pulled out a few beers before making his way back to you on the couch. “You don't know him.” He said quickly. He slid the second beer across his coffee table to you. You rolled your eyes and pushed it to the edge of the table and pulled out the template from class. “Let's get started, okay? The sooner we get this going, the sooner we can be done and never speak to each other again.”

Minho smirked, his slender fingers tapping against the neck of his beer bottle. “Aw, what's the matter? You don't like me?” He leaned in closer. “Nope.” You snapped back. This response made Minho laugh. A loud, full laugh that promised that he didn't believe you. He was cocky and he was sure that every girl wanted him. His eyes lingered on you as you continued to read over the template. “So, what bullshit do we have to write about now?” Minho asked while taking another swig of his beer. You sighed heavily in response. “Love. The subject is just love. It says to write about any kind of love, however it speaks to you.”

Minho let out a huff. “Between a beautiful woman's legs, that's the only love I need.” He remarks. “You're disgusting.” You retort. You slide a template over to where he sits, “just write something, pervert.” Minho's face scrunches up for a moment, “aren't we supposed to be working on this together, partner?”

“You're a big boy, you can handle it.” You scold, your hand gripping tightly to your pencil. “Just write.” Minho sighs loudly as his body slumps deeper into the couch. An hour goes by without either of you saying a word to one another. Just the sounds of pencils scraping and pages turning fills the air around you. “This is stupid.” Minho complains, finally breaking the silence. The sound of a pencil hitting the coffee table breaks you out of your writing trance and you shoot a glaring look at him. “If you hate this so much, why did you sign up for this class?” You quip back.

Minho's eyes flash an intensity that matches yours. An angry, exacerbated look that contracts with his normal cool and calm demeanor. Has he never had someone challenge him before? Has he never had a girl stand up to him instead of immediately falling to her knees? You hold your stance and the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Then Minho grabs your half-written poem in an instant before you can even process what he is doing. He stands up from the couch and holds it ceremoniously. “Let's see what Miss Goody-Goody wrote about love, eh?” You fumble up from the couch and take a confident dive at Minho to try to get the paper back but miss as he pulls the paper away at the last minute. “Give that back!” You demand. But Minho holds the paper just out of reach, laughing proudly as he does. You look back at the coffee table to find his paper sitting there unprotected and take your chance, snatching it quickly into your hands. Minho's eyes widen as he realizes where this little chess game has led the two of you and his cheeks begin to burn a bright, hot red. His voice drops to a low, intimidating octane, “give it here. I'm serious.” His hand splayed out in front of you.

You let out a triumphant laugh and stick up your nose at him. “No way!” Minho smirk turns to a serious expression and he takes a few steps towards you, causing you to take a few steps back. Soon you are frantically trying to figure out your next move. You quickly fake left before turning to the right and easing your way around Minho and down the hall to an open door welcoming you inside. You hastily run into the room and shut the door behind you, hearing the pounding sound of Minho's palms flat against the other side of the door. “This isn't funny anymore! Come out of there!” He shouts from the hallway.

You clear your throat ready to read the poem out loud. Minho groans loudly before giving the door one last defeated thud. Your eyes scan the page and you find yourself frozen by something you did not expect.

A carnation bright

Unfold for me

This is everything and nothing

I put a ribbon and signed the envelope

Postage stamp

In the garden you wait

Surrounded by a soil that drains

Who waters you?

Where is the watering can that fills your petals, sweet Carnation?

I pluck you so carefully

Lie you down on the softest pillow

You've ever felt

You clutch the page in your hands, a slight tremble causing the paper to crinkle under your fingertips. Your eyes pour over every line again and again. The words are erased and written again, scribbled over and corrected. But the words he chose, the words he decided were the right ones to express himself, they stayed etched in pencil led with a secretive beauty. You slowly make your way to the bedroom door and turn the door knob. You find Minho sitting in the hallway across from the door. He glares up at you, his face painted red in embarrassment. “Don't say anything. I know it's bad.” He whispers, his voice shaking slightly.

You step out into the hallway and kneel in front of where Minho sits. “It's not bad, Minho. It's actually…good.” You confess. You watch Minho's head lift up as he searches your face for any hint of a lie. Then he lifts up your paper, “you didn't write anything.” He smirks.

Then it was your face that burned red. You had written a few pathetic lines of poetry before erasing everything in frustration. “I hate what I wrote. I hate everything I write.” you murmur. This causes Minho's smile to grow and spread across his face. But this smile was different, not a mocking, cocky smile but a smile that seemed to understand exactly what you meant. “That just means you're good at what you do. Come here, I'll show you.” He said and then stood up taking your hand in his and pulling you back into the bedroom. The bedroom that was, in fact, his bedroom. In the far corner of the room stood a tall, broad bookshelf so full that it almost looked like it would bend and break if just one more book was added. Minho searched the shelf for just a moment before pulling out three books. He then turned on his heels to face you. “These authors didn't even get published until their late 40s. Can you believe that? Now everyone reads them!” His eyes lit up with the kind of fascination designated for a child on Christmas morning. He placed the books in your hands and begged you to read them. You looked down at the books in your hands and furrowed your brow. This was not the boy you were expecting. Why did he have to act like such an asshole all the time? Why did he have to act so uninterested and bored all of the time?

You look up from the books and stare at Minho for a moment. “Why are you so afraid of people seeing this side of you?”

Minho jolts from your blunt question. His eyes lock with yours and for a moment his mouth hangs open in silence. Then he steps closer to you. “Because this side is too real, too raw. If they are the real me then they can hurt the real me. And I can't risk that.”

Something snaps in you at his response. You didn't know if it was his honesty or the fact that you had been feeling the exact same way but something outside of yourself brought your lips to his. His lips were surprisingly tender. His hands made their way up to your jawline and nestled there as the two of you worked in tandem. Your nose brushed against one another as his mouth opened in invitation. Your tongue scraped softly against his teeth, giving way to his teeth biting and holding onto your bottom lip. A soft and vulnerable noise escaped you at that moment. And a flash of all the women who have ever been in this room entered your mind, causing you to break the kiss. You stumble back and press your hand over your mouth. “I can't. I'm sorry.” You turn towards the bedroom door and make your way down the hallway to leave. You frantically and admittedly quite clumsily grab your book bag and jacket before making a b-line to the front door.

Minho never tried to stop you, never called your name out and begged you to stay. You walked back to your dorm room and threw yourself onto the bed. You bury your face in your pillow until all light leaves and only darkness remains. He wasn't just a fuckboy, player, or asshole. He was actually someone who you could fall in love with. And that thought was scarier than anything else.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star @minh0scat @kibs-and-bits @minhosgirlposts @firelordtsuki @softkisshyunjin @doyunkang @cocofia143 @nchhuhi @iovecb97 @skzfairyyydreamz @mikeysonlygirl @kwitchabtchn @staystaystaystaaaaa @stay3096 @starmyteez @xanhnax @estella-novella @delulustardust @luvserie @stray-squad

[yandere-wishes]

Can't get this thought out of my head!! It's been driving me crazy all night~🌸

Sorry this is so utterly random, but I can't stop thinking about how similar Poison Ivy is to Venus Mcflytrap!! Like yeah I know it's so obvious but it's never occurred to me before.

So I propose this...

Reader who has powers like Venus: Plant mimicry, Chlorokinesis, and has the mind control pollen (guess that makes her like Ivy too).

Reader who has vines growing on her arms and legs that have thorns and roses, reader who just wants to be like her mentor/adopted mother and save the planet from the horrendous humans running it, reader whose hero name is either Flytrap or Blood-Rose (or maybe Ivy has two side kicks who knows)

Now imagine a batboy, I'm thinking either Tim or Jason fall in love with her.

If it's Jason then the reader obviously has a more punk aesthetic, her words and actions are harsh but her heart is made of pure gold. She loudly protests on the streets, vandalizes anything that she deems a hazard to the earth, and isn't afraid of throwing punches when face to face with the defilers of the earth (literally anyone, I'm thinking she would start fights for stepping on flowers, breaking tree branches, mistreating animals even, oh and def littering.) and this is all as a civilian. As a rouge she's unhinged, she lacks her mentor's grace, she goes in monster veins swinging. Ready to break skulls. Maybe she really is more monstrous compared to Ivy who uses seduction as her greatest assist. Reader instead has venus flytraps sprouting from her shoulders/back that she uses as weapons. Her veins and flytraps have given Jason more broken bones than he'd like to admit. Yet somehow he's always sad when the cartilage heels, almost as if it's scrubbing off all traces of her.

If it's Tim then reader is more of a mad scientist, she's always locked up in her room. Coming up with new plants that she finds stunning, and everyone else finds utterly terrifying!! She makes her mother proud by making new planets capable of taking back the earth and planting them where they can do the most harm. Her creations have literally wrecked skyscrapers. I'm thinking she would have roses and thorns sprouting from all over her body. Definitely a bit insecure. Since she's always hidden away. When Tim is tasked with hunting down whoever is behind the new

killer plant attacks. He tracks her to Ivy's hideout. Que a "meet cute" where Tim is trying to bring her to justice and reader is trying to kill him. But she's not good at fighting, she does however end up drawing blood with her thorns!! When it's over Tim has destroyed her lab and new creations and finally gone home. He finds he can't get her out of his head! He thinks it's the pollen, maybe because of her pricking him...but turns out he's really falling in love.

The third option is my favorite trope that I've never really written about (it's coming up in the Catfam series too) but Yandere! Bruce Wayne/Batman falling in love with his rogue's sidekick. Under the pretense of "saving them". He'd end up kidnapping her locking her away in the manner. Ultimate princess treatment only catch is she's tied up and He's found a way to shut off her powers!! 💞💋💞💋💞 utterly obsessed with unhinged Bruce!! Trying to play hero but also so psychotically in love!!

Now because I'm me I have to add in a fourth option of Harvey Dent. I remember shipping him and Ivy as a kid (yes my perspective of love was screwed up even then) So maybe Ivy's little helper developed a crush on Big Bad Harv, one the Harvey wants to use to get back at Ivy with. But her puppy dog crush is so endearing that both sides of him start to get addicted!! She finds him so so beautiful, adores both sides of him. She even decorates his half and half apartment with flowers. Cuter brighter flowers on Harvey's side (sunflowers, orange blossom, sakura) and darker "creepier" things for Harv (Flyraps, black dahlia, thorn veins).

Should I just throw in one for Damian too? Like, remember that one comic where Ivy creates planet children? Maybe she does that and Reader is born. Obviously, she has accelerated growth and the same values and obsessions as her "mother". She's created her to be the ultimate savior to carry on her legacy and succeed. There is so much of her Damian can relate to, so much about her that pricks at his heart when he sees her blooming under the sun. 🥺💋🥺💋. Ivy would totally call her "my sapling" or "my little bloom". Damian hears the nicknames and repeats them much to the reader's surprise and disgust.

Is this anything??

[obito-in-disguise]

| Avoiding their touch |

Pranking male Naruto characters by avoiding their touch.

Uchiha Sasuke

At first, Sasuke ignores your strange behavior. If you wanted to be weird, that was your headache, not his.

But when you sidestep him during a mission as he reaches out to steady you after a jump, his eyes narrow.

"What's your problem?" he asks, deadpan, stepping closer and reaching out for you again.

You shrug innocently, dodging his touch once more. His jaw tightens, and he retracts his hand.

Sasuke is surprisingly patient after that. But after you dodge his touch a third time, that patience snaps. Determined to keep up the charade, you move to avoid his arm when he tries to protect you again.

"Whatever" did you seriously think he had a problem with not touching you?

He doesn't even bother with words anymore. Playing along with your game, he grabs the back of your shirt and effortlessly flings you out of harm's way.

"Hey!"

"You wanna play games? Fine," he mutters, completely unfazed by your wide-eyed glare.

For the rest of the day, Sasuke avoids your touch, despite your whining and apologies. This was your punishment for playing silly games with him.

Uzumaki Naruto

"huh??"

You must be tripping, Naruto thinks, watching you duck when he tries to pull you into one of his bone-crushing hugs.

Naruto is all about physical affection, high fives, random hugs, scooping you up into his arms. So when you dodge his hug, his jaw drops.

The look on his face is too ridiculous, you can't stop yourself from bursting into laughter at his utter shock of your audacity.

"You're so dramatic" you roll your eyes, pulling him into a hug as an apology.

Naruto grins and returns the hug twice as hard, lifting you off the ground for good measure. Ignoring your squeals of embarrassment, he parades through the village with you still awkwardly dangling in his arms as punishment.

"Put me down Naruto! You're so embarrassing!"

Aburame Shino

Shino is flabbergasted, to say the least. You never avoided his touch, and he loved that because you were the only person he was comfortable being affectionate with anyway.

His eye twitches, but his shoulders eventually sag in relief when he sees you struggling to contain your laughter. You were just playing a silly prank after all, thank goodness.

He discreetly releases a meliponine bee from his jacket sleeve, the little creature was harmless and couldn't sting, but you didn't need to know that.

The moment you spot it, your eyes widen.

"SHINO, ONE OF YOUR BEES ESCAPED!"

Shrieking, you leap into his arms. His lips stretch into a smug smirk as he catches you.

"Oh? What's this? I thought you didn't want me to touch you?"

You narrow your eyes, quickly connecting the dots. Jumping out of his arms, you smack his shoulder lightly.

"Touché"

Hyuga Neji

Neji was pretty much sick of your shit at this point, you've been on a pranking streak all week and it put him on edge.

Now he questions every little reaction from you, wondering if it was a prank or not.

Even now, he stood watching you, his posture stiff, an irritated glare on his face.

"Stop testing my patience y/n."

He grits out, reaching for you again, watching you move out of the way.

"Have I...have I done anything to upset you?"

he asks, voice shaky, exhaustion creeping in. He was afraid this time you weren't joking and he might've actually upset you.

You immediately drop the act, not liking the kicked puppy dog look on his face one bit.

"I'm sorry baby, I was just messing around" you tug him into a hug to which he returns with a glare, ultimately glad this wasn't anything serious.

He reaches down to flick your forehead.

"Ow!"

"You're an idiot. Quit it with the silly games ok?" he murmurs gently brushing his fingers over the spot he flicked.

"Ok ok"

Uchiha Itachi

Itachi chuckles, watching you sidestep his hug. He immediately knew you were playing games, no one craved his touch more than you did.

"Are you sure you want to do that? I'm leaving for a mission and won't be back till tomorrow"

You bite your lip, weighing your options. He was right, 24hrs was way too long to go without a hug.

You huff, shuffling into his still open arms with defeat. "Fine, I yield"

He laughs again, giving you a soft squeeze before pulling away.

"I'll see you in a couple hours" he says, placing a kiss on your hair before pulling away.

"See y- wait what! You said tomorrow"

"I lied" he calls out, smiling casually, like he didn't just decieve you, continuing down the path without looking back.

You can't help but chuckle at his cuningness, you were so going to get him back when he returns though.

Uchiha Obito

"Well aren't you a picture of domesticity" Obito muses, watching you make coffee in one of his button downs, the shirt large on you.

He can't help himself, he reaches out to feel your soft skin only to be met with air when you move out of the way, giving him a strange look.

If he paid more attention, he would've noticed the look on your face was you struggling to hold in your laughter, but his stomach was too busy dropping to his feet.

Obito was insecure, about his face, about his body, and his past. Despite your reassurances, a part of him never believed he was what you wanted.

He was chronically paranoid that one day you'd realize you could have better, and leave him.

It didn't take you too long to figure out what was going through his head when he froze, staring at you like a deer in headlights.

"Shit, this was a terrible idea" you immediately grab his hands, placing one on your cheek and the other on your waist "I'm sorry, I was just messing around"

He stares down at you for a few seconds gauging your sincerity before sighing, his body untensing in relief.

"You're a menace..." his arms snake around you, pulling you into his chest, happy this was just a joke.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry"

Hatake Kakashi

Kakashi notices but doesn't react right away. Instead, he silently joins your game.

Every time he sees you coming he makes a point to dramatically avoid touching you even by a hair's breath, dramatically bending and contorting his body into all sorts of shapes.

"You're terrible" you giggle, trying to grab him, watching him dodge your hands like his life depended on it.

"me? You're the one who started it"

he finally relents, letting you tug him into your arms.

"You could've seriously hurt my feelings you know? I'm sensitive"

You snort, Kakashi didn't give a shit and you both knew it.

You lean up, tugging his mask down to peck is nose as an apology "You're about as sensitive as that rock over there"

He chuckles, deciding to let your snark go, he won after all, you wouldn't be avoiding his touch again.

I just realized I've never done headcannons for the naruto characters at once, so enjoy!

Feel free to check out my other Naruto Shippuden fics and more stories!

Tiny taglist🥲: @catlover19282

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

"Hedgehog, porcupine, it's the same thing (pt.5)"

or "Something made a hole in my backyard pt.5"

Shadow the Hedghog x reader (platonic)

Notes: I finally have connection again!!! This part feels a little of to me but anyway, leave a comment if you want to be in the taglist or leave a comment if you liked it! ENJOY!

Part 4.

It happened so fast that you could barely process it, the creature looked at the room, then at you, then at the window and in a red flash it disappeared.

For only a fraction of a second, because as soon as it disappeared it appeared right back, but now besides your bedroom's window.

It fell to the floor with a thud and you swore you heard it say something.

But that would be ridiculous, animals don't talk.

"What the fu-?" You didn't even finished your question when the thing turned around to look at you.

The room was silent. Everything felt like it was made of very thin glass, and any sudden move coul shatter it all.

You crouched.

You didn´t know if you wanted to make yourself less intimidating or if you just wanted to be able to protect your hole body in case it tried to move again.

And so, you both just looked at each other. It was really the first time you had stopped to look at the creature so closely.

It´s eyes were red, but not just any red, they were crimson like blood on the outer part of the iris with a warmer fire-like red on the center. It had fur which looked super soft covering all of it´s body, but there was something like spikes coming out of it´s head.

Yeahhh, you knew what animal it reminded you of...

"Hey there" you said softly as not to scare it.

"Who are you and where am I?" the creature demanded more than asked.

"Holy shit, you can TALK!!??"

"Where am I? Did G.U.N sent you?" It had now started to get on it´s feet and speak louder, though it still seemed as in pain.

Everything about what was happening felt kind of surreal to you, one thing a little more than anything else.

"Why do you sound like Keanu Reeves?"

"Is that another agent? I will kill you in seconds if you don´t answer my questions" It furrowed something that you assumed were his eyebrows.

But between everything that was happening you suddenly lost balance in your crouching position, and fell on your back. When you managed to sit on the floor you found yourself with the sight of the alienish creature which had also fallen flat on it´s bottom, presumably trying to protect itself from you.

So then you were both sitting in the ground.

"I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot" you started to say, as calmly as you could. "I´m not here to hurt you, you were the one who crashed on my backyard".

It kept on looking at you as if you were going to attack it at any moment, so you decided to give him something more, you told him your name.

"Shadow" It... He answered back, though it felt more as an attempt to get you to shut up than anything. More time passed in silence.

And so you got up, and left.

Shadow just sat there, slightly confused, but soon enough he weakly got on his feet and turned towards the window. He tried to give a step, but all of his muscles ached at it. He felt helpless. He hated feeling helpless, it reminded him of the cryo tube he was kept in for fifty years.

His efforts did not last too long either, as he felt two warm hands pick him up from under his armpits and sit him back down on the bed. Even though he slightly hissed at the pain and tried to fight back his efforts were usless and he found himself comfortably sat against the cushions.

You smiled at him and apologized for any discomfort that you may had caused, then you offered him a pastry (your aunt Maddie had brought them for tea).

He picked one up, and after a troughout examination, which to you kind of looked as a cat smelling something to see if it was food or not, he actually took a bite.

It was actually nice, and it had a slight bitter taste to it.

"So... are you some kind of porcupine?"

"I´m a hedghog and the ultimate life form" He answered back with still looking angry, but his voice had slightly less bite to it. You smiled kindly back as you held back a laugh.

"Hedghog, porcupine, it´s the same thing."

Taglist:@boogiemansbitch@vxllys@whoisgami@baby-bloos@sapphireravensworld@mothmanperson@4rm-the-mf-concrete@eliknowsnothing

[anim-ttrpgs]

I think one of the reasons that Eureka needs to have crunchy (but fast, I can’t stress enough these are over fast) combat rules is because it is such a grounded, “realistic” setting. All of the successes of the PCs are real and not just because they’re PCs or because the GM forced their success.

At the same time, since this is so unusual for TTRPG play, even in TTRPGs where the rules-as-written don’t support plot armor, it’s kind of hard to explain to people. It’s almost like gleeblor trying to talk about something amazing a PC pulled off because of their skills and cleverness and have people NOT roll their eyes and say “whatever, the GM just let it happen.”

When Yvette Preux, armed with two pistols, waited quietly behind the door at the top of he stairs for the eight armed gangsters to come up and then surprised them by shooting six shots through the door, sidestepped so they wouldn’t know where she was when they started shooting back blindly, then fired six more shots, ultimately killing or incapacitating all of them, every step of that was mediated by the rules, and every single one of those gangsters could’ve put her down in a single Action if she had let them. The GM is following the rules, which say what the NPCs can and can’t do just like the PCs. To me that’s what’s special about TTRPGs(if played by the rules) as opposed to freeform RP or writing a novel. A smart plan succeeds because it is actually a smart plan, not because it’s a dumb plan and the author just wants it to succeed. A good author can tell a story where a smart plan succeeds because it’s a smart plan, but a TTRPG goes step by step and has the math to prove it.

This post went way beyond the original point I was trying to make but whatever. Buy Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. It’s good.

[lovesickwounds]

SOUND OF MUSIC ( damian wayne ) damian never knew what you played, so you showed him.

no warning!

━━━━ DAMIAN KNEW A few things about you. how you liked your drinks, when you fell asleep, whenever you were nervous. he knew everything at this point. it was almost like you were his favorite book, and he was mesmerized by you.

he stared a lot. watching you whenever you took a step or moved even the slightest. so that’s how it led to this scene: damian, sitting behind you as you reached into your cd collection, searching for your very favorite song.

he had his full attention on you as you continued to skim through the ranging records you owned on cd before you laughed and pulled a square disk out.

“what is it?” he pulled it from your hand when you held it towards him, his eyes wandering across the odd font of the band and the track list on the back. when damian handed it back to you, you were turning your radio on and opening it to put the disk in.

“you’ll love them, trust me!” you laughed, scooting closer to him and pulling him towards you. he obeyed, scooting next to you as the first song played. you were humming along, tapping your fingertips against him subconsciously as the song played on.

he was amused.

song after song, he listened alongside you. half focused on the music coming from the cheap radio (which added to the ambience damian seemed to be enjoying) and half focused on the humming coming from you.

it was heaven for him. he knew what the beat was as your fingertips detailed every single beat against him, maybe by the end of the album he would know exactly what it was whenever you drummed your fingers along is or hummed to it.

“do you like it so far?” your voice was gentle, hardly heard over the music coming from nearby.

your eyes met his, and for a second he swore it was every he’d ever wanted to stare at. twinkling with hope and enjoyment—the radio playing a familiar tune you’d grown up with to the one person you truly loved.

“yes. it’s… good. i understand why you like it.” he didn’t raise his voice above yours. why would he? the two of you were so close together that anymore unnecessary volume wouldn’t be good.

“i’m glad, dame. here, we can listen to another one. it’s slower than the other one.” your voice was soft as the album came to a sweet end, causing your hands to remove it from the radio and put it away, pulling out a new album and putting it in.

the first song was a random love song, slow and melodic as you stood and extended a hand to damian.

he rose an eyebrow, but ultimately accepted your hand. pulling him up, you grinned and clasped his right hand in yours, leaning against him as you hummed and swayed to the music.

at first he was stiff. what was this? a strange display of affection as the two as you seemed to morph into one, his body relaxing after you poked softly at his spine, chastising him with a simple word he couldn’t remember.

encircling his arms around your waist, he buried himself into your neck. he could smell your body spray. and as it overtook his senses, he seemed to be able to think clearer about you.

he was in love with you, and your music taste.

SORRY FOR DYING!!! i had work and school and a whole lotta stuff happening but im here now! also super short im sorry ill do more next time needn’t fret

masterlist — requests are open — lovesickwounds 25

[lilarylrosie]

Just a Slice [Fanfic]

- Author's Notes: This story is for MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY!  Only sexual warnings will be added for chapters in the future as this will not be the only chapter. Will eventually be posted on AO3! Also the Doctor is giving me brainrot to the point where I need to write this fic because he gives off daddy vibes /j

                                          ooOOOOoo

Heaving with heavy breaths that escaped your chest, you leaned back on the nasty metal door that had slid shut behind you. A wash of exhaustion and hunger passed over you like a tidal wave, quickly clearing your mind, you look to examine the room around you and then your gaze landed on the toy stuck.. In a glass case? A feeling of dread crashed in your gut, as expected Sawyer's voice, or the 'The Doctor's' mocking but even smooth voice came to life in the room.

"Do you believe you're taking the moral high road.. Is that what you believe?" Letting out a shuddering breath, you securely kept your grab pack close. You could care less about 'morality' at this time. There wasn't much you could say but instead you let Sawyer continue his monologue. "Dear friend, let me illuminate for you an obvious truth: Survival necessities are choices. Difficult choices. This one is yours." Your eyes eventually landed on the little toy that was trapped in the glass case and your gut twisted once more getting a feeling you knew exactly what The Doctor is implying.

"If you want to leave this room, it'll come at a cost. It's this little life, or yours. You know what you have to do. Just the slightest pull, and you snuff whatever minuscule bit of light still flickers behind those faraway eyes."

"No.. no.. I wouldn't, ...but I need to.. what choice do I have" you mumble beneath your breath as stress came over once more, most of these toys deaths weren't your fault because they attacked you first and you were simply exercising your self-defense. You would never willingly kill a toy. However, The Doctor ignored you and kept talking; "That brutish glob of clay would do it." His voice ultimately held a disdain for them in the even tone, "Poppy would do it."

"It's YOUR mission. The door will open. Or, is maintaining your veil of your 'morality' more important? Act quickly."

Sensing it go quiet once more, you let out another shuddering breath and glanced to the toy, you were unwilling to end it life. Was there even a child behind that anymore? Wouldn't you be doing it a favor by putting it out of its misery? Biting your lip, your gaze traveled around the room looking for some kind of exit to escape. Hearing the banging behind you, you knew you didn't have a lot of time. Letting your gaze land on the plug, out of desperation you grabbed it with your grabpack and raising a hand to wipe the forming beads of sweat away, you aimed your pack to shoot and plug in the plug – closing your eyes with a slight turn of your head to the electricity going off and hearing the creature's pitiful cries before death.

You've killed this toy.. but was it any different from before?

"Strange, I'd expected more mortality.. so you DO understand. Good, good. Come now, let's see which of us beasts of burden destiny favors, hm?"

Feeling sickened, you gritted your teeth and turned around to see the door open. It was your chance now to go and confront that monster. You went ahead to enter the next room, and cringed at the creepy but dark and empty room; being completely immersed in the fog. It made it hard to see. Slowly being careful and stepping onto the platform, you stiffen up again to hearing the voice speak up again as the platform started to rise. "Do you hear it like I do? Off somewhere. Somewhere far. Beyond this place. Any place. A bell."

"A bell?" You questioned with a skeptical look, "What are you talking about?" You're starting to believe this man is just playing with you. You don't hear anything instead The Doctor ignores you and keeps talking. "For whom does it toll, you think? A wounded little pup lifts it head beneath the shadow of its master's raised foot. For whom does it toll?" A sinister laugh followed and soon after you reached the top.

Your nerves felt like they were on fire, the hairs on your skin were sticking up, unlike the others you've faced, there feelings screaming at you to run away. "No no. I need to do this," you reassure yourself with a fierce pounding heart, "I faced all those other experiments and Catnap, what makes this any different?" Taking a deep breath and grateful for your own pep talk, you firmly held onto your grabpack and continued forward. Creeped out by the amount of TV's, you already feel like you're being watched.

"I'm not the one killing him, he's already attacking me and hurt my friends or at least I think they are.." You justified to yourself on his oncoming demise. With your feet clanking against the metal floor it was simply impossible to stay quiet in this area, approaching both metal doors with newfound bravery, the doors seemed to open on their own and the sight somewhat confused you. A giant machine?

"Not even the ground beneath your feet."

You didn't get anytime to look further on what Sawyer was until you flinched to something grabbing you and you frantically turned your head to see some kind of endo-TV grab you to then throw on you on the ground, a little grunt escaped and you stared it appalled. It gave little mocking 'hello' sign with its fingers until the latch opened up beneath you and you fell with a scream, unfortunately, you ended up hitting your head against the metal floor and stars invaded your vision. Your vision blurred and darkness slowly overcame you with painful throbbing.

"Oh what a disappointment. You will be put to good use." Was all you heard of The Doctor's voice until unconsciousness took over. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Drowsily, your eyes cracked open and you tried to move.. You couldn't move. With wrists strapped to the bed, your legs were securely strapped as well and your heart paced with anxiety. It felt cold, you then notice your clothes were changed into just a dirty old hospital gown. Struggling, your eyes darted around.

"Keep struggling. All it does it make me itch to explore you more germ." The mocking but even voice spoke out smoothly.

Cranking your head, it felt as if you were hearing the voice all around, but you froze at the sight of the The Doctor. The large metallic TV you've seen earlier was there, with a cloak covering most of all it, it was present, but the only thing that kept your attention on it was the massive eye staring right back at you. "What's wrong with you, is this about wanting to use me!." You've tried to defend yourself and it emanated a cruel laugh from The Doctor who was observing a scalpel it was holding in its grasp. "My dear. This isn't about me, this is about you."

Walking closer with its heavy footsteps, your heart paced when cool metallic fingers were placed on your stomach. "It's been SO long since I've had another human down here, Dr. White may have never been able to last, but I wonder how long you'll last."

Trailing its hard metal hand to your neck to then put pressure on your windpipe, you started to choke with tears slowly forming at the edges of your eyes. It felt as if all the air was leaving your lungs, and your brain screamed for oxygen. The hand squeezed harder and your will to stay awake started to wither away, your lungs desperately begged for air. Is this how were going to die? A faraway look appeared, and black edges appeared in your sight, but then, you suddenly gasped in a whole bunch of air when Sawyer let go of your neck. Coughing and breathing fast, your tears slid down your cheeks as the color returned to your ashen pale skin as he laughed once more.

"I forgot how most humans can't go without oxygen, I wished to test that theory once more . I'll be taking notes."

You were hit with a pang of deja'vu to those last words as you kept gasping out for more air to consume greedily. "W-Why," you've mustered out weakly. "Why didn't you kill me?"

"I've expected you to be smart about this. I told you it's about you, your use will be put to my use. The Prototype could care less about what I do to you." Feeling your heartbeat speed up, The Doctor lowered the scalpel and you struggled with a scared look. "Please, please don't!" you begged, afraid of dying. Ignoring the human's whining, Sawyer started to slice your thigh and you writhed in pain with a cry keeping in whimpers. Blood started to leak out, and you screamed when he dug in further in with a jerk the pain that blared through your body forced a pained scream. "STOP!"

"Hmm the subject is strong. Aside from its whining I need more than just a few samples." Using his other hand, he lowered the vial and it started to fill up with your warm blood. The pain blossomed in your body, and you shook. With fat tears sliding down, The Doctor seemed to like your reactions to the pain, you didn't doubt that The Doctor is enjoying this but you didn't care as the pain intense to think about it.. Taking out the tool with another jerk which had you cry out, he raised the vial and ignored the blood pooling beside you.

"This shall do. I can't wait to make into something that will be extraordinary." ----------------------------------------------- Next Chapter

[28harryssunflower]

It was always you

“You know, I think I’m actually cursed.”

Harry barely looked up from his phone as you flopped onto his bed with a dramatic sigh, burying your face in his pillow. “Yeah?” he said lazily. “What kind of curse we talking about? Eternal clumsiness? Never getting the last slice of pizza?”

You groaned and threw a pillow at him, which he dodged effortlessly. “No, you idiot. A love curse.”

That got his attention. He smirked, locking his phone and tossing it onto his nightstand. “Oh, this could be good. Go on, then. Tell me about your tragic, love-deprived existence.”

“I’m serious, Harry!” You sat up, hugging the pillow to your chest. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. Never even had my first kiss. Meanwhile, you’re out here hooking up with a new girl every week like it’s your part-time job.”

“Full-time, actually,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes but continued. “I just… I want someone to love me, you know? Someone who looks at me and thinks, ‘Yeah, she’s the one I want.’”

Harry watched you for a moment, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful. Then, with his usual smugness, he leaned back against the headboard and stretched out his arms. “Well, lucky for you, you’ve already got me. No need to search any further.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious!” he grinned, opening his arms invitingly. “Come on, I’ll even cuddle you, since you’re always so lonely.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are, still talking to me.”

You flipped him off but, despite your protests, you eventually curled up against his side, sighing softly as his warmth surrounded you. It was familiar. Comforting. Safe.

But safety wasn’t love.

And that was the problem.

So when you finally got a boyfriend, you were ecstatic.

Harry had been just as excited for you at first, grinning as you rambled on about your dates, about how sweet your boyfriend was, about how it felt to finally be wanted.

But slowly, things started changing.

It started with little things - canceling plans last-minute, leaving his messages on read. Then, you started avoiding him altogether, barely sparing him a glance in the halls. When he tried to talk to you, your boyfriend would pull you away, whispering something in your ear that made you frown but ultimately follow him without a second thought.

The worst part was, you didn’t even seem to realize what was happening.

And then you forgot his birthday.

Harry spent the entire day pretending not to care, but he did. God, he did. His mum had even asked why you weren’t there - because you were always there. But he just muttered something about you being busy, shrugged off her concerned look, and spent the rest of the day staring at his phone, waiting for a text that never came.

But he didn’t go to your house to confront you. He didn’t text you. He didn’t call you.

This time, he just let it go.

By Monday, he didn’t even bother trying anymore.

You were his only friend - had always been his only friend. Without you, he was alone.

So he leaned into it.

He walked through the halls with his hood up, earphones in, ignoring everything and everyone. He leaned against his locker alone, scrolling through his phone. He was just another body in the hallways now, and maybe that was fine.

Until he heard the laughter.

Harry didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

Your boyfriend and his friends stood at the other end of the hallway, their laughter carrying over the dull roar of students. He was pointing at Harry, smirking as he whispered something to his friends.

Harry clenched his jaw and slammed his locker shut. He wasn’t in the mood for this.

But, of course, your boyfriend had other plans.

“Oi, loser!”

Harry exhaled slowly through his nose but didn’t respond.

“You deaf too?” Another voice chimed in - one of his friends, probably. “Or just fucking pathetic?”

Harry gritted his teeth, gripping the strap of his bag. Just walk away.

But then your boyfriend stepped in front of him.

“You know, it’s sad, really,” he sneered. “You following her around all these years like a lost puppy. Guess she finally got tired of your pathetic ass.”

Harry’s fists curled.

“What?” Your boyfriend smirked. “Nothing to say?” He shoved Harry’s shoulder, making him stumble back a step. “No comeback, huh? Figures. You were always just a waste of space-“

Harry swung.

His fist connected with your boyfriend’s jaw, sending him staggering back. But before Harry could do anything else, hands grabbed him from behind, shoving him hard against the lockers.

And then the punches started.

One to his stomach. Another to his ribs.

A fist slammed into his jaw, snapping his head to the side.

A knee to his gut knocked the air from his lungs, and suddenly, he was on the ground.

More kicks. More fists.

Blood filled his mouth. His vision blurred. His head spun.

And then he heard your voice.

“Harry?!”

The beating stopped instantly.

You pushed through the crowd, your heart stopping when you saw him.

Harry was barely breathing, blood smeared across his face, his lip split, bruises already forming along his jaw. His arms trembled as he tried, and failed, to push himself up.

Your chest tightened, tears blurring your vision as you shoved your boyfriend out of the way and dropped to your knees beside Harry.

“Oh my god,” you choked out, cradling his face in your hands. “Harry, stay with me, okay? Don’t fall asleep. Just- just keep your eyes open.”

He groaned, barely conscious.

You snapped your head up, looking at the crowd. “Someone call a fucking ambulance!”

No one moved.

“Now!”

Finally, someone fumbled for their phone.

Your boyfriend scoffed behind you. “Why are you wasting your time? He’s a loser.”

Then he reached for you.

The second his hand touched your arm, you whipped around, eyes blazing.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me, you prick.”

He blinked. “What?”

You shot up to your feet, shoving him back. “It’s over.”

He laughed. “Oh, come on. Don’t be dramatic-“

“Piss off!” you screamed, voice breaking. “Get the fuck away from me!”

A few teachers finally arrived, pushing through the crowd. Someone pulled your boyfriend back, while another crouched next to Harry, checking his breathing.

Minutes later, sirens blared outside.

You held Harry’s hand the entire way to the hospital, whispering apologies through your tears, telling him to just stay awake, that you were so, so sorry.

He squeezed your hand weakly. “Told you… you don’t need… anyone else.”

A broken sob left your lips. “Shut up, idiot.”

When his parents arrived, you barely got the words out before breaking down entirely, burying your face in Anne’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed. “It’s all my fault.”

Anne just held you tighter. “Oh, sweetheart.”

You didn’t leave Harry’s side. Not for a second.

Because maybe love had been right in front of you all along.

The hospital room was too bright, too sterile, too quiet except for the steady beep of Harry’s heart monitor.

You sat beside his bed, gripping his hand tightly, even though he was barely conscious. The sight of him like this - bruised, battered, barely able to open his eyes - made your chest ache with guilt.

You had let this happen.

And you weren’t leaving him again.

“I want a second bed in his room.”

The nurse blinked at you, glancing between you and Harry’s sleeping form. “I’m sorry, but only family members-“

“I don’t care,” you cut in, voice shaking but firm. “I’m not leaving him.”

The nurse hesitated, clearly torn, but then she sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

That night, they wheeled in a second bed for you.

It was small, uncomfortable, and cold, but you didn’t care. It was close enough to Harry. That’s all that mattered.

You barely slept.

Every time he shifted, every time he let out the faintest groan of pain, you were up, adjusting his pillows, checking his IV, making sure he had everything he needed.

Sometime in the middle of the night, his hand found yours.

“You’re still here?” he mumbled, voice hoarse, eyes barely open.

Tears welled up in your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips quirked up just slightly, the ghost of a smile. “Good.”

And then he fell back asleep, his fingers still loosely wrapped around yours.

The hospital stay lasted a week.

A week of helping him sit up when his ribs hurt too much. A week of spoon-feeding him shitty hospital food because he was too drugged-up to do it himself. A week of pretending not to cry when the doctors explained how much pain he’d be in for the next few months.

A week of never leaving his side.

By the time he was discharged, you had practically memorized his breathing patterns, the way his eyebrows furrowed when he was uncomfortable, the way he clung to your hand every time he fell asleep.

And despite everything, despite the pain, despite the bruises, despite the way you had abandoned him for so long - he still wanted you there.

You didn’t understand it.

But you weren’t about to question it.

The first night at his house was rough.

He could barely move, every breath sending a sharp pain through his ribs. You helped him get into bed, carefully adjusting his pillows, setting his pain meds and water on the nightstand.

“You really don’t have to-“

“Yes, I do.”

He looked at you for a long moment, then sighed. “Alright, Nurse Bossy.”

You rolled your eyes, sitting down on the bed next to him. “Shut up and take your meds.”

He did. But when he winced, shifting slightly, you immediately reached for him, helping him lean back.

His gaze softened. “You’re gonna take care of me, huh?”

You swallowed. “Of course I am.”

Harry studied your face, something unreadable in his expression. “Even after everything?”

Guilt twisted in your chest. “I don’t understand how you can even look at me after what I did,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

He exhaled slowly, his fingers brushing against yours. “Because you’re you.”

You blinked at him, eyes stinging. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

Harry tilted his head slightly. “That’s not for you to decide, is it?”

Your breath hitched.

After a moment, you sighed and carefully curled up beside him, resting your head on his good shoulder.

“I’m still sorry,” you murmured.

“I know,” he whispered. “But you’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

The next few weeks changed everything.

You never left his side. Every morning, you helped him sit up, made him food, made sure he took his meds. You helped him shower, helped him dress, even sat through hours of shitty reality TV just to keep him entertained.

And through it all, Harry changed too.

Gone was the playboy who hooked up with someone new every weekend. Gone was the smug flirt who never took anything seriously.

He still joked around, still teased you endlessly, still acted like the Harry you had known your whole life. But something was different.

He wasn’t looking for anyone else anymore.

Because he already had you.

Neither of you spent a single night alone after that.

If he wasn’t staying over at your place, you were at his. You always shared a bed, sometimes he stayed up late watching movies while you fell asleep against his shoulder.

But no matter what, you were together.

Always.

One night, weeks after everything, he traced lazy patterns on your arm as you lay curled up beside him.

“You’re really never leaving me again, huh?”

You swallowed. “Never.”

He exhaled, pulling you a little closer.

“Good.”

If anyone had told you a year ago that you and Harry would end up like this - tangled together every night, inseparable, happy - you would have laughed in their face.

But now, lying in his bed with his arms wrapped around you, his lips brushing lazily over the top of your head as he mumbled half-asleep nonsense, you couldn’t imagine life any other way.

Everything was just… good.

Better than good.

Perfect.

School was different now.

Where Harry used to be surrounded by girls hanging off his every word, he was now only ever with you. He still had his cocky smirk, still joked around with his old friends, but when it came down to it, he only had eyes for you.

And he made sure everyone knew it.

Whether it was his arm slung over your shoulder in the halls, the way he pulled you into his lap when you sat with him at lunch, or the way he casually shut down any girl who so much as batted her eyelashes at him - it was clear.

Harry Styles was taken.

And he wouldn’t shut up about it.

“My girlfriend’s actually the smartest person in this school,” he’d brag to your teachers when you aced a test.

“My girl made the best fucking pancakes this morning,” he’d tell his friends, even though he had literally helped you burn them.

“My girl,” he called you. All the time. And you secretly loved it.

You rolled your eyes at his antics, but every time, you’d find yourself blushing, hiding your smile as he grinned at you like you were his entire world.

Because, well… you were.

Your families were just as obsessed with your relationship as Harry was.

Anne had always loved you like a second daughter, but now that you were officially dating her son, she took it to a whole new level.

“I knew it,” she’d say every time she saw you two cuddled up on the couch. “Knew you’d end up together. Should’ve placed a bet.”

Harry groaned. “Mum-“

“You two were practically married as kids anyway,” she continued, waving him off. “Might as well make it official.”

You laughed. “We’re still in high school, Anne.”

She just shrugged. “You’ll get there.”

Your own parents weren’t any better.

Your mom practically beamed every time Harry walked through the door, already treating him like a son. Your dad had been a little skeptical at first (probably remembering Harry’s less-than-stellar reputation), but after seeing how much he adored you, he came around quickly.

“Just take care of her,” your dad had told him one evening, clapping a firm hand on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry had looked him dead in the eye and said, “Always.”

That had been the moment your dad fully accepted him.

From then on, family dinners turned into “future planning sessions,” where your parents and his would casually drop comments like, “When you two get married,” and “Your future kids are going to be adorable.”

You’d groan and hide your face in your hands while Harry just smirked, clearly enjoying it.

“You hear that, love?” he teased one night as you lay in his bed, scrolling through your phone while he played with your fingers. “They want grandkids.”

You shot him a look. “You’re literally seventeen.”

He shrugged. “So? You think they’re wrong?”

You sighed, setting your phone down to look at him properly. “Do you?”

Harry didn’t answer right away. He just studied your face, eyes soft, thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

Then he smirked. “Nah, they’re definitely right.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder. “Idiot.”

He just laughed and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You love me.”

You sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately.”

But he knew the truth.

And so did you.

Being with Harry felt like breathing - natural, effortless, something you didn’t even have to think about.

When you were alone with him, the rest of the world disappeared.

No teasing from your families about marriage and grandkids. No whispers at school about how Harry Styles finally settled down. No past mistakes, no guilt, no fears.

Just him. Just you. Just this.

Nights at his house were your favorite.

It usually started with a lazy movie night, where Harry would let you pick something - though he always found a way to distract you before the ending. Sometimes with kisses pressed against your jaw, other times by burying his face in your neck and mumbling about how you smell so good, love, what is that? until you finally gave in and let him pull you into his arms.

You always ended up in his bed, tangled together, legs hooked over his, your head resting on his chest as his fingers traced slow circles on your back.

Harry loved to touch you.

Not in a desperate, needy way - though, let’s be honest, sometimes it was that too - but in a constant way.

His hands were always on you, even in the smallest ways. His fingers brushing over your knuckles when you walked side by side. His palm resting on your thigh when you sat next to him. His lips pressing against your temple whenever you leaned against him.

And when you were alone, when it was just the two of you wrapped up in his sheets, his touch was even softer.

He’d run his fingers through your hair, whispering little nothings, sometimes teasing, sometimes serious.

“Gonna marry you one day,” he murmured one night, voice heavy with sleep.

You huffed, your fingers lazily tracing patterns on his stomach. “You’re obsessed with me.”

Harry chuckled, shifting so he could press a kiss to your forehead. “Obviously.”

You smiled against his skin, feeling his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

This was home.

Mornings slow and filled with warmth.

Harry was not a morning person. He liked to stay in bed as long as possible, groaning dramatically whenever you tried to move.

“Don’t leave,” he mumbled one morning, voice muffled against your shoulder.

“I have to pee.”

“Pee later.”

“That’s not how it works, idiot.”

Harry groaned, tightening his grip on you. “Fine. But you’re coming back.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, kissing his cheek before slipping out of bed.

When you returned, he had stolen your pillow, hugging it to his chest like some sort of oversized teddy bear.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, crawling back in beside him.

“Mm.” He tossed the pillow aside, pulling you into his arms instead. “Better.”

You let him be clingy, let him tuck his face into your neck, let him hold you like he was afraid you’d disappear.

Afternoons spent doing absolutely nothing and everything at the same time.

Some days, you stayed in bed all day, wrapped up in each other, talking about everything.

Harry loved to ask questions.

What’s your happiest memory?

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?

If we were stranded on an island, would you eat me or let me eat you first?

(You didn’t dignify that last one with a response.)

Other days, he’d convince you to go on little adventures with him - late-night drives with the windows down, ice cream runs even when it was freezing outside, sneaking into the neighborhood pool just to float on your backs and stare at the stars.

Everything was better with him.

Even the boring, ordinary moments.

Some nights, you didn’t sleep at all.

You’d stay up talking, whispering under the covers like kids sharing secrets.

One night, after hours of just being with each other, Harry tilted your chin up, eyes soft in the dim light of his bedroom.

“I never really knew what love was,” he admitted. “Not before you.”

Your breath caught. “Harry…”

He swallowed, his fingers brushing over your cheek. “I know I’ve said a lot of stupid shit in the past, and I know I was a dick before, but I-“ He exhaled sharply. “I love you. You know that?”

You stared at him, heart swelling in your chest.

“I know.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Good.”

You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. “I love you too.”

Harry let out a breathy laugh, like he still couldn’t believe this was real.

And then he kissed you.

Slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world. Like he was never letting you go.

And he never did.

You and Harry barely fought.

Sure, you bickered all the time - about who got the last slice of pizza, about his terrible taste in reality TV, about the way he always stole the covers at night. But it was never serious.

Until tonight.

And it was stupid.

It started with Harry forgetting to pick you up from school when he had a day off and you weren’t driving home together.

You waited outside for over an hour, your phone battery slowly draining as you sent unanswered texts, your frustration growing with every passing minute.

By the time you walked home - freezing, exhausted, and pissed off - Harry was sprawled out on his bed, completely oblivious.

“Oh, hey, love,” he greeted casually, grinning. “Didn’t hear you come in-“

“You forgot me.”

Harry’s grin faded, eyebrows furrowing. “Shit.” He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “I- I didn’t mean to, I just-“

“Oh, you just what?” you snapped, throwing your bag on the floor. “Got too distracted being lazy to remember your girlfriend?”

Harry scowled. “I wasn’t being lazy! I was studying.”

You scoffed. “Studying what, Harry? The inside of your eyelids?”

His jaw clenched. “I said I didn’t mean to. What more do you want?”

“I want you to care!”

“I do care-“

“Not enough.”

Harry stood up then, his expression darkening. “Don’t fucking do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like I don’t love you just because I made one mistake.”

Your nostrils flared as you glared at him. “It’s not just one mistake, Harry. You never take things seriously. You’re always so fucking carefree-“

“Oh, I’m so sorry for not being miserable all the time,” he shot back sarcastically.

Your hands balled into fists. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re a pain in my ass,” he snapped, stepping closer.

You stepped closer too. “I hate you.”

His chest was heaving now, eyes burning into yours. “Yeah? I hate you more.”

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t soft. It was desperate, angry, all teeth and heat and hands gripping a little too tight.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him, his body pressing yours against the wall.

You gasped into his mouth, nails raking down his back.

He bit your bottom lip in retaliation, his breath hot against your skin as he muttered, “So fucking annoying.”

You dug your nails in deeper. “You love it.”

His response was a growl, his lips crashing back into yours, his hands grabbing, pulling, taking.

You didn’t stop. Not when he lifted you onto the bed. Not when he hovered over you, his hands gripping your wrists. Not even when he smirked and whispered, “Still hate me?”

Afterward, you lay beside him, panting, your limbs tangled together, skin still burning from his touch.

The room was silent for a long time.

“I hate you,” you muttered, turning your head to glare at him.

Harry chuckled breathlessly, rolling onto his side. “I hate you more.”

You both stared at each other, eyes narrowing - until, suddenly, you both cracked.

A laugh bubbled up from your chest, and before you knew it, you were giggling, your forehead dropping against his shoulder.

Harry grinned, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close. “We’re so fucking stupid.”

You nodded, still laughing softly. “Yeah.”

His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. “But you still love me.”

You sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately.”

Harry smirked. “Guess you’re stuck with me, then.”

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze. His eyes were warm now, soft, all the anger from before completely melted away.

You leaned in, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to his lips.

He sighed against your mouth, his fingers threading through your hair.

After a moment, he pulled back just enough to murmur, “Still hate me?”

You smiled, “Yeah.”

He grinned, kissing you again.

[dandylovesturtles]

a comment on the other Step-brothers AU post made me think that yeah, I didn't really get into the interpersonal relationships at play and since this is still plaguing my mind and I wanna talk about it, here's the start of what will probably end up a very long post about the family dynamics in the Step-brothers AU

this is mainly focused on the main fam + April because if I start doing all the Caseys and other side characters too I'll die

let's start with big bro Sondheim

Sondheim and Draxum: As I mentioned in the first post, Heim has a really hard time not seeing Draxum as his boss, even after their rescue. The AU Draxum never encouraged any parental/child feelings between them, so Heim just has no idea how to approach it. Initially Draxum likes this ("Why can't the rest of you be as respectful as Sondheim?"), but eventually he realizes that Heim acts like that because there's a lack of trust and intimacy in their relationship. It will really take Heim getting closer to his little brothers, and learning to open up to them, that will lead into Draxum and Heim getting closer and moving into a familial relationship.

Sondheim and Raph: Heim is initially quite intimidated by Raph, not only because Raph is bigger than him but also because Raph seems to have himself together in a way Heim simply doesn't feel like he does (even if he seems to on the outside). Heim is also a bit jealous of how easily Raph interacts with the rest of his family, while Heim feels such a wall between himself and his brothers and dad. But ultimately Raph will be a great role model for Heim, and the two of them grow quite close, as Heim is willing to go to Raph for any big-brother advice. Also, while Heim generally acts pretty sociable and well-adjusted, he's also quite macho acting, since that's what was expected of him from the rest of the soldiers. Being around Raph, who is open with displays of affection and who still loves plushies even as an older teen, is great for helping Heim move into more healthy displays of masculinity. For Raph's part, he worries sometimes that he's not going to live up as the role model Heim needs, but he doesn't really need to worry so much.

Sondheim and Leo: On the surface, these two seem to have a great relationship - the two of them can chat easily and never fight. But if you actually paid attention to their conversations, you'd realize they're quite... surface level. As both Heim and Leo are very "conceal don't feel" types, neither of them push the other to open up, and as a result their conversations stay casual and peter out before long. This leads to them feeling quite distant from each other. It will take both of them growing their emotional maturity individually before they can get over the wall between them, probably more when they're adults. But they do like each other.

Sondheim and Donnie: Years of knowing Viv did not prepare Heim for Donnie, and honestly he's kind of scared. He doesn't know what to make of him, and he knows even less what to make of everyone's tolerance for his insane behavior. An explosion in the lair and no one's even getting up from their seats? Hello?? They have some of the same problems as Heim and Leo at first, but Heim has a hidden competitive side that comes out when he's playing games, and once the two of them start playing video games and board games together, it comes out and the two of them start really having fun together. As Heim gets more open and less worried about being abandoned, he and Donnie have the sort of relationship where they will openly shittalk each other for fun.

Sondheim and Wilde: Unlike Viv and Sulley, Wilde's attempts at bullying Heim never went anywhere. Heim was never intimidated by Wilde, and he emulated the nasty attitude the rest of the soldiers had toward Wilde, until making fun of him behind his back (and sometimes to his face) became second nature. As a result, Wilde and Heim have a pretty terrible relationship at first! Heim feels open to taking care of Viv and Sulley, but come on - does he really have to be a big brother to that guy? But in contrast to how Leo can't push Heim at all, Wilde can push Heim a lot, with all his exposed nerves right on the surface, and the barely concealed rage that Heim can actually relate to. Their rocky start leads to the two of them being accidentally more open with each other, leading to a slow but steady turn around in their relationship. Eventually Heim and Wilde are as close as the OU A Team, but it takes quite a lot of work to get there.

Sondheim and Vivaldi: Heim and Viv have always had a straight forward, business-like relationship, never exchanging many words other than to pass along orders. They initially maintain a very similar relationship once they start living together as brothers, neither of them really knowing how to have a relationship that goes deeper. Both of them struggle with learning who they are as people, let alone deal with all the new family dynamics that have been thrown their way. But because their struggles are so similar, Viv ends up having an easier time talking out his frustrations with Heim. Heim is less willing to open up to Viv, feeling responsible for him as an older brother, but soon enough talking through Viv's issues turns into Heim talking through his issues, too. The two of them for a very close bond over this, each feeling like the other is the only person in the world who understands what they're going through. Viv is the brother Heim grows closest to the fastest.

Sondheim and Mikey: While Viv is the brother Heim grows closest to the fastest, Mikey is the step-brother who slips past his walls first. Heim is willing to humor Mikey early on, as a way of trying to fit in with the family, and Mikey takes full advantage of this, eagerly slipping past Heim's defenses and nestling himself right into his heart. Initially Heim doesn't quite know how to handle it, but soon he's unbearably fond of Mikey, even if he playfully protests that he isn't. It helps that Heim doesn't treat Mikey like a baby the way Raph sometimes tends to, partly because Heim has his own baby to worry about. While their emotional relationship isn't as deep as Heim's relationship with Viv and eventually with Wilde, Heim is truly relaxed around Mikey even early on.

Sondheim and Sullivan: Heim didn't have much regard for Sulley for most of their lives, and now he feels a lot of regret for that. Their relationship effectively has to be built from the ground up, which isn't helped by Heim still trying to learn who he himself is. They have a lot of false starts and a lot of disastrous conversations, but Heim gradually slotting himself into his big brother role and caring for Sulley helps a lot. The two of them learn a lot about the wonder of hugs together.

Sondheim and April: Humans have been Heim's enemy for most of his life, and while he actually doesn't think they're all that dangerous (yokai always had the superiority in strength and mystic ability, and thanks to Draxum's mutagen and Donnie's tech they were steadily closing the gap in numbers and technology, too), he's still mystified that his alternate family would willingly interact with one. He's initially rude to April as a result, but she has so little tolerance for that that his dismissal quickly does an abrupt swing into respect - maybe a little too much respect, because he starts treating her like a boss, too. It takes them awhile to settle back into a friendship, and she becomes a great role model for Heim as well.

Sondheim and Splinter: Lou Jitsu died in Heim's universe, so while he always knew he was mutated with Lou Jitsu's DNA, he's never met the man. He's quite a bit shorter (and hairier!) than Heim expected! Heim initially treats Splinter with the reverence and respect he does Draxum, but Splinter pretty quickly dispels that notion by encouraging Heim to address him casually and generally just acting like his goofy dad self around Heim. Though the AU boys look at only Draxum as their dad, they do still lean on Splinter as a capable adult in their life, and Heim is no exception. He likes the tea Splinter makes.

[ematini]

I think the biggest problem with Arcane season 2 is how dissapinting the characters' personal arcs are. The writers seem to have missed the mark with what they were originally going for, aka what the entire concept of season 2 was.

We know that season 1 was mainly about the conflict between Zaun and Piltover and the conflict between Jinx and Vi. Those two main themes carried over (or at least they were supposed to, but the writers fumbled that), but what about everything else? The whole premise?

The intro sequence hints for it. The way all characters are dressed in very plain clothes, not their signature outfits, which signifies how the story aims to challenge their identities. Outfits, especially in animated shows, where characters often wear the same things, are very important. That's what makes them recognizable. Taking that away foreshadows how vital parts of their characters will be put into question, too.

Vi's scene confirms this. We see her wiping off her VI tattoo, which is a foreshadowing to her loss of identity, how much she struggles with who she is now that Jinx is gone. Also, her becoming an Enforcer, against everything she believed in.

Jinx waving a flag, a reference to Liberty Leading the People, showing how she will become a symbol to Zaun, an inspiration for the revolution.

Caitlyn stepping into the spotlight, and later, her pose, which is a reference to Macbeth. That's her taking on the role of a leader and later struggling with her choices.

The problem is, in the actual show, all those concepts are just briefly touched upon and essentially left unfinished, forsaken for the sake of the plot as a whole.

Vi becomes an Enforcers, but we barely see her struggle with that choice. It comes and goes, just like her pitfighter arc, and just like that, we're in act 3, and nothing happened. She has exactly two lines about her internal conflict, not just about being an enforcer, but EVERYTHING. I'm a die-hard Vi fan, so that breaks my heart the most because if you think about it, Vi was never allowed to be her own person. And that's how she remains. She doesn't come out of the arc as a new, changed person with a new identity she's confident in.

Jinx does become a symbol for the revolution, but aside from breaking people out of Stillwater, she does nothing. Her story is mainly connected with Isha, and after she dies, Jinx reverts right back to her broken down from. Instead of leading Zaun to freedom, she leads them to join the war between Piltover and Ambessa, which is not even connected to the Undercity. It's all about Hextech. Zaun's freedom isn't won by revolution, but because Piltover had a change of heart.

Caitlyn becomes a Commander, but we never get a glimpse into her internal conflict. All of that is quickly skimmed over with brief lines. In season 1, Cailtyn was a kind character. Prevailed and a bit ignorant to Zaun's issues until she sees them herself, but ultimately, she's a good person. But by the end of season 2, we don't get to see that part of her return. Her values end up not as much being challenged as completely erased. That entire imagery would be a lot more meaningful if we at least got a glimpse of her helping the Undercity instead of claiming crimes can't be undone. We don't get that vital part of her character, which was her kindness and willingness to help back.

All that is not even mentioning how certain parts of the intro weren't even touched. What about Jayce? We see him shielding his lights from the spotlight, reminiscent of how he steps on the stage during Progress Day in season 1.

What could this possibly mean? Him struggling with his identity as the face of progress because all he worked for essentially ended up turning against him? Him struggling with what he did while he was part of the Council? Wrong, he spends most of season 2 in a cave.

At least Mel does end up taking Ambessa's place, even though she's barely in this season, so I'll give them that. Reluctantly.

Those are mostly my personal complaints because I always care about the characters more than the plot.

[anitrendz]

My Happy Marriage S2 Episode 5

Sorry for the silence - I was out on vacation, but I'm back to say I LOVED this week's episode. A common criticism some have thrown at My Happy Marriage is how it seems to push for traditionalism in women, and while I don't necessarily agree with that particular criticism, I DO understand where it comes from. Miyo, by all accounts, is the perfect housewife. She's dutiful, she's clean, she offers to do the chores for Kudo without asking, she's demure and polite, and she never steps out of line. Those traits have been pushed to oppress women for a very long time, so seeing them in a main character I have no doubt can be infuriating and even triggering for some who have spent a long time fighting against the portrayal of women in that role.

I think, however, this episode should finally put some people's hearts at rest. What's most important when it comes to the portrayal of women are their individual freedom, and we see it bountifully here. Not only does Miyo FEARLESSLY sass back at the men backtalking about women being in the military, she's shown pretty actively smitten by different women from herself. She fits in the housewife role, yes, but she also actively supports women who don't and loves being around them and stands up for them and encourages them, and I think ultimately that's what matters.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

A race for love p.21

Hii guyss, I hope you enjoy this part. If you've missed part 20 or the other parts you can find them on my masterlist :)

Formula 1 is all about speed, but in this story, the real race isn't just on the track. Read on to find out who will win the ultimate race-for your heart

- Monza 2023 -

The race day unfolds in a blur of excitement, tension, and noise. You spend most of it in the McLaren motorhome, surrounded by the buzz of engineers, strategists, and mechanics. Lando and Oscar pass through occasionally, their moods fluctuating with the highs and lows of the day. You manage to laugh at their banter, but your mind keeps circling back to the message. Every time your phone vibrates, your heart skips a beat, half-expecting another cryptic text.

The hours drag on, and though you try to immerse yourself in the race, it's impossible to ignore the weight sitting heavily on your chest. The noise of the paddock fades into the background as you replay the events of the past two days—the call, the voice, the message. They're all connected. They have to be. And you're certain Franco knows something.

By the time the race is over and the motorhome starts to clear out, you know you can't avoid confronting him any longer. You leave the McLaren motorhome, weaving through the bustling paddock with determination. The evening air is cooler now, carrying with it the scent of tires and fuel. It does little to calm your nerves.

When you reach your hotel room, your hand hesitates on the doorknob. You take a deep breath and step inside, not sure what you'll find.

Franco is there, lounging on the bed like nothing is wrong. He's scrolling through his phone, his hair still slightly damp from a shower. When he sees you, his face lights up with a smile, but you can't return it.

"We need to talk," you say, closing the door behind you.

His smile falters as he sits up, the casualness in his demeanor fading. "What's wrong?"

You cross the room, setting your phone down on the desk before turning to face him. "It's about the messages. The ones I got before and I got a new one today. They're all connected, Franco. And I think they're tied to the call from last night."

His expression shifts, and for a moment, he looks away, as though searching for something in the air around him. "It's nothing, cariño," he says softly, standing to approach you. "You're worrying too much. Let's just forget about it—"

"No." Your voice is firmer than you expected, cutting him off. "I can't forget about it. Not when someone's texting me warnings, calling you in the middle of the night, and leaving threats. Franco, I need to know what's going on."

He hesitates, his hand reaching for yours, but you pull back, frustration bubbling beneath your calm exterior. "Please, don't try to brush this off. I deserve the truth."

Franco sighs, running a hand through his hair as he steps back. His face softens, and his shoulders slump slightly, as though he's carrying a weight he's been avoiding for far too long. "I didn't want to tell you because it's in the past," he starts quietly, his voice tinged with guilt. "I didn't think it mattered anymore. I didn't want it to affect what we have."

You cross your arms, your heart pounding. "What didn't matter, Franco?"

He looks at you, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "Before we started dating, there was this girl.... We were talking for a while, but it was never serious. Then I met you."

He pauses, stepping closer as though to reassure you. "When things got serious between us, I broke it off with her. Completely. I blocked her everywhere, stopped answering her calls—everything. I thought that was the end of it."

You blink, processing his words. "But she hasn't stopped trying to contact you?"

He shakes his head, guilt etched across his face. "No. She's been calling me from different numbers, sending messages. I didn't know how to make it stop. And I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Of losing you," he says simply, his eyes pleading. "I didn't want you to think I was still involved with her, because I'm not. You're the only one I care about."

His words hang in the air, heavy with emotion, but they do little to ease the knot in your stomach. "Franco, I would have understood if you'd told me earlier. But now..." You trail off, taking a deep breath. "Now it feels like you've been keeping this from me. And she's dragging me into it, too. Do you know how terrifying it is to get messages like that? To hear her voice and not know what she means or what she might do?"

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice cracking. "I didn't know it had gone this far. I thought ignoring her would make it stop."

You stare at him, the mixture of fear and frustration churning inside you. But as much as you want to be angry, you can see the regret in his eyes, the vulnerability he's trying to hide.

After a long pause, you take a deep breath and close the distance between you, placing a hand on his arm. "We'll get through this," you say softly. "But we have to face it together. No more secrets, Franco."

He exhales shakily, his hand covering yours. "You're right. I'll handle this. I'll find a way to make it stop. But I need you to know, te amo, and I'd never let anyone come between us."

You nod, your chest tightening at his words. "I love you too, but this has to end. No more running from it."

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours, the kiss lingering longer than usual. It's sweet and filled with unspoken promises, but there's still a shadow hanging over you both.

As the kiss ends, he rests his forehead against yours. "Thank you for believing in me."

You manage a small smile, but your mind is already racing with thoughts of what comes next. Whatever this is, you'll face it together.

For now, that's enough.

Tag list: @hs2016, @a-beaverhausen

[bronx-bomber87]

Between the promo and the interviews, there have been clear hints that something is going to happen with Chenford in 7x06. What do you think will happen?? (And, on the flip side, what do you hope would happen?)

Hi there :) So I had to ask D if I knew this spoiler LOL Not gonna lie. Because I mostly stay away from spoilers because I like the surprise. I’m a nerd 🤓 She told me I had seen it already in the trailer. Then I knew it was the moment below. So thank you my friend for helping your spoiler deficient buddy out ha Since it's this one its been hard to avoid knowing about. Like you said between promo etc

Tim shirtless and taking step forward with a hesitant Lucy. What do I think will happen? Based off that promo alone and that’s legit all I know…I say Lucy goes goes for it. She has that same look she did in 4x22 and 5x01 in the third gif. The one right before she grabbed Tim’s handsome face and kisses the life out of him. I think it’ll get interrupted because they might be on a mission of sort? Someone knocking on the door or some such. Like I said don’t know a ton. Lol

Maybe they make it to a possible bed in there before they have to stop. Now what I do hope happens is they finally have a real talk because of that. One Lucy has wanted since 6x07. Reopening that door brings about the need to talk things out. Because they can’t truly get back together until Tim explains the why of it all.

Because we know our girl. She will understand and forgive him for having a mental health crisis. Especially a massive one with zero coping tools when it happened. Would love for it to be step in the right direction of true healing for them. That's my ultimate hope that comes out of it. Shall see who is the closest when we get there. That's the fun part. Thanks for the ask I love these.

[izelthewashbear]

Screw this, yet again instead of studying for an exam I have tomorrow (Lord have mercy upon my gay soul) I'll be dissecting my favorite blorbo because why not. I can't stop thinking about one thing.

Today was probably the first time I've watched an entire Rats SMP stream - I was watching Ren goof off with his lieutenant for two hours and it was amazing. Seeing them having absolutely no idea how to play checkers was so funny. But what Martyn said at a certain point instantly flipped my view of him.

He basically said that he's not good at card games and overall strategy games, including checkers. That he has a hard time thinking three steps ahead and only focuses on what's here and now. At first I was like "wait a second, but you're the strategy guy"- Is he? It was only then that it hit me that seeing him as a strategist was kinda wrong.

Let's take 3rd Life as an example. I always saw him as this guy who'd make strategies that Dogwarts would utilize. And to some extent, yeah, maybe- but let's think about his first death in the series. He was so adamant, so headstrong about getting the Dogwarts banner back that he basically chased Scar around the whole server. Without a plan, without even a good reason. And what happened when he finally got the banner back? He basically had to plan on how to return to Dogwarts, which led to him going down and being killed by a skeleton. And I'm sure that if I wasn't trying to stare at my exam notes right now, I'd think of many other examples. Such as, him accidentally killing Cleo in Double Life. Or him trying to do a mass Boogie kill in Limited Life and that going horribly wrong.

What that one moment of these gay rats playing checkers made me realize is that his primary role is not a strategist. He has a basic idea of a plan - but the thing he's good at is basically improvising every step on the fly. This guy can do a 30 minutes long improvised roleplay of pretending to be a demon and almost not lose the lore in the meantime. He cannot stick to a singular plan, instead coming up with solutions to problems as they come and go. He may not be the best at planning, but he can notice little opportunities and take them as they come. He has basic ideas for his lore, and he utilizes them whenever he notices an opportunity. He may have planned to betray Ren in 3rd Life, but ultimately did not end up doing it because of all the choices he made during the series. But the moment there was a perfect poetic opportunity to betray his Mean Gill, he grabbed it and sunk his teeth into it.

I guess he really is the manifestation of 'fuck around and find out'

And now back to studying, wish me luck 🫡