#and I thought it was funny that we use appearances as an indicator of what a character is like

[rileys-battlecats]

I love how you changed Wrentail’s design slightly by making him more rounded. Mudpaw is spikey but is really a sweetheart, and Wrentail being rounded making you think he’s a decent cat when in actuality he’s a monster. Really drives the theme never judge a book by its cover

Yes!! That's exactly what I was going for!!

[paragonrobits]

some important calvin and hobbes facts in case you haven't read the original comic strip in a long time or only absorbed stuff on it from memes and out of context bits on here:

Calvin's last name has never been given, and neither has any of his parent's names. This was actually why his uncle Max only showed up for a brief storyline; the creator of the comic, Bill Watterson, ultimately felt that while it was fine to have him as someone for his parents to talk to, it felt far too awkward to never have Max refer to them by name and he never made a return appearance.

The general tone of the comic is fairly light-hearted, with a big emphasis on goofy slapstick comedy contrasted by clever wordplay and often surprising adult-centered jokes that'll hit you like a slap. A big part of the comedy is, as Watterson put it (paraphrased) "It's really funny to me when people express deeply stupid ideas with really fancy terminology." One notable example you might have seen is that one bit where Calvin asks his mom for money to buy a Satan-worshiping rock album and his mom replies that there's nothing genuine about them and they're just putting on the attitude for shock value, and comisserates with Calvin as he deplores that mainstream nihilism can't be trusted. He concludes that childhood is disillusioning.

There is a LOT of criticism of the extreme materialism and selfish mentality of the late 80s, when the comic was initially written. This may go a long way to explain how its aged so well; much of what it criticizes resonates well with people today.

Bill Watterson views comic strips a legitimate form of artwork, and repeatedly fought to have more space to draw more beautiful and artistic backgrounds, which was a very hard fight and unpopular even with other comic strip artists. He eventually did win some compromises and a lot of Calvin And Hobbes' artwork shows it, with the use of space to indicate time as well as a sharp contrast between the often plain environments of mundane life contrasted by the wildly beautiful imagery of Calvin's imagination (which often sports realistic depictions in an art shift of sorts).

Hobbes is explicitly not an imaginary friend, by word of Watterson himself. We don't know WHAT he is exactly, and Hobbes is apparently unaware of the strange nature of his reality; people look at him and only see an ordinary stuffed tiger plushie, but he has a tangible effect on the world that would be physically impossible for Calvin to do on his own. He's apparently been around for a while, and was apparently around when Calvin was a young baby.

On that note; Hobbes has implicitly killed (notably treated as both a gag and also with the vibe of 'he's a tiger, duh') and while he doesn't do it again on-screen, he doesn't have any moral issues about it. Calvin claims that he's never had trouble bringing Hobbes to school because the last time he did, Hobbes killed and ate a bully named Tommy Chestnut and simply comments that it was gross and he needed a bath. Calvin's tried to repeat this again, but Hobbes was grossed out at the thought having to eat a kid raw and not being allowed to use an oven first, or complaining that children are too fattening.

Hobbes became gradually less human-like in body language and more like an actual cat in both body language and behavior; this was due to Watterson drawing more inspiration from his cat, who also inspired a lot of Hobbes' running gags, such as pouncing on Calvin when he got home. Several years into the syndication of the strip, Watterson's cat passed away, and he did a tribute to her with a comic strip of the two of them agreeing to try to dream together so they can keep playing when they have to sleep; Watterson's commentary (if I recall right), remarks on his cat: "We can see each other again in dreams."

[predestinatos]

too cold | MV1 ⋆꙳❅ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

pairing: max verstappen x female!reader

summary: stormy weather leads to stormy thoughts about a years long friendship.

tags: best friends to lovers, soo cheesy, fluff, giddy max, super whipped for reader!!, wearing his sweater, just so much softness!

author's note: i dreamt about max for some reason and he's been living in my head rent free so... i had to let this out!! hope you like it. it's a short cute thing so..!

word count: 3.5k

warnings: -

It was cold and stormy that day. You had expected it, the forecasts all telling you the same thing, your hair completely tangled in itself as soon as you stepped out of the house into the car.

You planned it all, including getting there earlier, so you could spend as much time with Max as possible – you never skipped the pleasant silence of his presence at least once a week. What you hadn’t planned was for you two to get carried away with taking buzzfeed quizzes and personality tests to the point where it was dark outside, the storm more aggressive, more threatening, and more dangerous.

“Shit,” you muttered when the wind outside made the windows tremble with extreme force, their sound almost like a warning voice in the night. “How am I going home like this?” you asked yourself out loud, desperate and scared, as Max completed yet another ‘What’s Your Mental Age Based on Your Choice of Cutlery’ quiz. He glanced outside nonchalantly, almost carelessly, as if the question was ridiculously easy to answer, close to ironic.

Before going back to the seriousness of the questions at hand, he shrugged, shoulders going up and down in explicit tranquility. “You can stay over” he stated, his finger hovering over a weirdly shaped spoon that said ‘shit stirrer’ on its surface. You let out a breath that indicated his joke was funny yet not useful in the slightest given your current dilemma, to which he looked at you and laughed back, assuming you were amused at the choice of teaspoon he had just made.  “Max, I’m serious” you voiced your urgency and fear with those words. “Me too” he continued, eyes glued on the screen, yet slightly confused at your own comment.

At your audible sigh and attempt to get up from his bed, where you comfortably laid scrolling through your phone for options, he turned around from his chair which was facing the screen. “You’re not leaving” he said, in a concerned tone of a friend who refused to let you be consumed by the rapidly increasing rain. “I don’t understand what the matter is” he continued as he saw you searching through his room for your things, messily scattered on the floor, reminiscent of childhood times spent together.

You merely looked at him in response, the answer obvious to you but seemingly not to him, only hitting him hard in the face as a joke he couldn’t help but laugh at seconds later. “You always slept here” he said, astonished at your reluctance and apparent timidness. “Yeah, Max. When we were 11” you protested, tucking some hair behind your ear as you looked for your charger. “Plus, I don’t have a pajama, or spare underwear” your arms now crossed across your chest, mimicking his own, a baffled smile on his lips.

“You can wear one of my sweaters. And like, my boxers, or something” this made your mouth drop in ridiculous surprise, a fear in your eyes which he didn’t understand. “I’m serious! It’s better than you going out with this storm!” his arm pointed towards the window, the view outside a paid actor because a lightning appeared violently before both of you. With a winning grin, he finished his argument with a “C’mon I’ll let you choose the outfit.”

Opening the drawers, you let yourself take a look at the collection of multicolored sweaters organized neatly. Your eyes landed on a grey one, which looked a bit worn out but comfortable at the same time, its marks of usage being a testament to its quality. You grabbed it and noticed that it smelled like Max, like the years of friendship you two shared. “The boxers are in the other drawer” Max interrupted your thoughts, yet his indifferent air made you less awkward about this situation, almost like it was normal that this was happening, like you were both 10 again, popcorn being prepared in the small kitchen next door.

You let yourself randomly choose some of his underwear, trying your best not to look too much at it, knowing little to nothing about how to even begin choosing such a thing for yourself. The strong wind whistled outside, and Max’s fingers hit the keyboard, creating a soothing lullaby.

“I’m- uh-… going then” you said, making your way towards the bathroom as he happily nodded, the familiarity of the house being a known fact for both of you.

The truth was, Max missed you. A lot. He missed hanging out with you all night, watching really bad films and playing silly videogames, drinking some beers and enjoying yourselves. Lately, he hadn’t had the time to do all these things, let alone doing them with you, and even though he did not plan this storm in the slightest, he was glad for it. The rain came as a reminder that you two had a year long friendship you could still enjoy, the sound blending with the one coming from the bathroom as you turned on the shower.

Sleeping over only got weird given the fact that Max was a boy and you were a girl, but it shouldn’t have been like that. In his mind, nothing changed, and nothing should have to change – he still wanted you as close as he did when you two watched scary video compilations on youtube and spent all night hiding under the covers and whispering in an attempt to not ‘awake the big monster’.

He still wanted to spend time with you when you were 16 and started talking about how cute his friends were, asking him if they were single or not as you put a lollipop in your mouth and painted your nails in colorful amusement.

He still wanted you to sleep over even when his girlfriends told him they didn’t quite like the fact that he was so close with you, that he seemed to want to be with you more than with them, that he dropped everything as soon as you texted him a slightly unusual text.

And it was normal, and alright, because you were best friends, because you knew each other better than your own selves, because you’d recognize his laugh in the middle of a crowd even with noise cancelling headphones, and he would recognize the smile you made when you were flustered even if he was blindfolded.

It was also normal for him to smile to himself and feel the happiest he has felt in a while, because he missed you, and you were staying over and nothing would have felt better than knowing he had a night full of your presence.

Meanwhile, you stood in his all-too familiar shower, accepting the fact that he had no conditioner, and a shampoo would have to do for the night. Simultaneously, this made you reflect on the clear fact that he had probably had no stable, consistent, female presence in his life in a while. As the liquid dropped in your hand and you brought your hands to your hair, thoughts about previous relationships of his flooded your mind.

They never ended well, and the guilt you felt because of it was ever present. Max was the best friend you could’ve asked for, because he always picked you, no matter what. In fact, he gave it no thought nor justification, not to you or his previous relationships. He accepted the fact that you were his priority as a given, something so natural as breathing, as blood pumping through his veins. You couldn’t deny you did the same. Previous partners of yours weren’t too fond of his constant need to assess and approve of them, of how he was your emergency contact whenever anything happened, how you made sure you spent time with him at least once a week.

Feeling the foam forming on your scalp, you remembered the times where you two bathed together, the innocence of gone times flying through your head with fondness. Of course, you two grew, and while you never broke the bond that formed between you, it was also harder to continue certain traditions you maintained.

Your teenage years were filled with angst and some bickering over how uncomfortable he made your dates, or how all he did was talk about girls when you two were together. You used each other as diaries and confidantes, keeping secrets in a closed vault made of memories. Nothing really had changed besides your ages, and none of you were dating, or at least it did not seem like it.

As you washed your body with lavender scented soap, you realized this is what you were missing – the comfortability of being the most like yourself you could possibly be, alongside him.

Max stared at the “You Are 14 Years Old!” result on his computer, reading the in depth description on how that one fork gave his age away, when he heard your shout for his name coming from the now foggy bathroom, the place now looking more like Silent Hill or a liminal space. Removing one side of his headphones off, his voice echoed throughout the apartment “Yes?”, filled with softness and worry, a completely unknown care for you which wasn’t displayed by anyone else but him. Smiling to yourself, you replied, “do you seriously only own one bath towel?”

Removing both of his headphones off now, with realization hitting him and he jumped from his seat, he ran towards the drawer that possessed all the other towels he stored in organized fashion. “Shit! No! Sorry! I’m on my way!” he said urgently, grabbing one as he ran towards the bathroom, opening its door and popping only one arm in, his eyes facing the wall but also closed with affirming need to reassure you that he wasn’t looking, refused to look, would never even consider to do such a thing.

You pulled the fabric off his hand as you thanked him with a soft giggle, his previous nonchalant attitude vanishing upon the thought of seeing you naked – which you weren’t, and he would’ve realized this had he considered the fact that the bathroom possessed ONE towel, currently wrapped around your now wet body. Shivering with cold, you got yourself dry as fast as you could, while Max sat back down in his chair, cursing to himself at his clumsiness and lack of thought.

Examining yourself in the mirror as dried your hair off (after several minutes of looking for the hairdryer, not wanting to put Max through the whole ordeal of performing the biggest demonstration of respect towards one’s privacy ever witnessed) you noticed something you hadn’t before. This simple, yet incriminating item put into question your previous thoughts about Max’s lack of companionship in his home, your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth turning downwards at the thought that he was hiding something from you.

On the tiny little cup sitting on the sink, there were two toothbrushes. They were carefully put together in a magical arrangement of colors that indicated that one had to be able to tell them apart, like each had its own owner. Suddenly, the whole idea of sleeping over – hell, of wearing Max’s clothes – seemed ridiculously selfish. You had done it before, but you were adults now, and with adulthood came a sense of responsibility and respect that hit you in the face like a slap, the simple idea of an innocent sleepover with your best friend sounding absolutely childish and ridiculous.

“Max?” you called out again, a deep breath escaping your lungs as you sat down on the toilet seat, hair still slightly damp, towel still wrapped around your body upon your refusal to put his clothes on. “Yes?” he replied once again, a feeling of déjà vu invading your thoughts, a repetition of mere seconds before yet with rose tinted glasses off.

 “I think it’s best if I just go home,” you muttered, even though you hadn’t moved. Realistically, the idea of going out there terrified you, but perhaps not as much as staying over, given the current situation. Putting your underwear back on after showering felt dirty, but perhaps wearing his clean one after noticing another one’s presence in his room, his life, his thoughts, made you feel even dirtier.

“Come on, I bet your outfit looks amazing” he said jokingly, assuming you were embarrassed about your current look, trying to lighten up the mood with teasing reassurance. Getting up once again, he stood near the bathroom door, head close to it as if trying to listen to the fabric against your skin, some hint of your own amused presence. All he heard was silence, one so unbelievably loud he felt something off, something wrong. “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice now more careful, more tender, and more concerned.

You only murmured in allowance, and noticed the doorknob turn as he stepped inside. “What’s up?” he asked, his eyes revealing deep concern with slight embarrassment over the painting you two were probably creating. Him, pajama pants and hoodie on, glasses now slightly foggy; you, with droplets falling down your hair as you looked down, hugging the towel tightly against your body. “I don’t want to cause any trouble” you said as you unconsciously looked back at the toothbrushes which now seemed to stare at you both accusingly, judgingly.

“Why would you- Oh,” he interrupted himself, his gaze following yours towards the same spot, his look going from confused to serious to utterly humored. “This?” he asked again, grabbing the small toothbrush from the cup, its cable a pretty yellow shade. “What’s your favorite color again?” he continued, waving the object in front of your face as you stared at it in confusion.

Looking up, you replied simply “yellow- oh,” it was your turn to interrupt yourself, now realizing how you had almost forgotten your childhood promise, yet surprised as well at the fact that he had kept it after all these years, the innocence of the act causing your heart to hurt slightly.

“It’s always been here. I mean, not the same one, obviously, but… a spare toothbrush” he explained, even though he did not have to, his hand playfully messing your hair before he headed bac towards the door. “Get dressed, silly. We have films to watch” his warm voice instructed you with tenderness before he closed the door behind him.

Stepping out of the bathroom, finally dry and dressed, you forced Max to close his eyes before looking at you. “Don’t make fun of me or I’ll leave” you threatened jokingly, as his eyes remained tightly shut with his hands in front of them dramatically. “I won’t I promise!” he claimed, yet he was already laughing, the sound of it reminding you of the years of togetherness you both shared.

“Okay, you can look” you finally gave your permission, as he took his hands off his face and blinked fast, the lights suddenly blinding him. At first, he just stared at you, expression absolutely unreadable. Then, he burst into laughter, apologizing as his giggles filled the bedroom. “I look ridiculous” you complained, the long sleeves covering your hands and flopping lazily as you did so. “No you look adorable!” he tried to protest, laughter insistent on making its way through his lips, his eyes shining with happy tears. “Adorably ridiculous” you continued, rolling your eyes and throwing yourself on the bed defeatedly, your head buried in his pillow, filled with the scent of him.

Knowing your mood would change soon, Max merely smiled to himself as he started putting a film on, the choice being the Twilight saga – easy to watch, entertaining, fun, and he could tease you about it constantly, pretending he didn’t enjoy it himself. Bags of jellybeans hit your head as he threw them towards you, in an attempt to wake you from your moody attitude. “C’mon grumpy I have beer” he poked you as he sat on the bed as well, pressing play and opening a bag which he waved in front of your face as you got up lazily.

“’I know what you are’ ‘Say it. Out loud. Say it!’ ‘Vampire’” you said the lines along with the film, echoing each and every intonation and expression. Popping a bear shaped jellybean in his mouth as he took another sip of his beer, Max interrupted your acting session by saying “can you imagine how awkward it would be if it was something else entirely and he would just be like… ‘uh no’” and laughing to himself. Your arm flew to his as you punched it angrily, despite the fact that you were giggling to yourself.

Something about getting you slightly on your nerves while also making you smile made Max feel almost at home, in a safe space without comparison, only available to him when you were around. He felt himself in a constant state of meditation whenever he was around you, his breathing naturally adjusting itself to match yours.

Instinctively, and not out of the ordinary for any of you, he grabbed your hand and played with it softly, his fingers feeling the soft texture of your skin and pinching it with playful tenderness. You never questioned it, and neither did he, this need you two had to display affection more than most friends did, the need to always be in some sort of contact with each other, to feel each other’s warmth and presence closely. Without taking his eyes off of the film, seemingly very intensely focused on Edward’s skin of a killer, he spoke up. “You don’t look ridiculous,” he said, as you held your gaze on the film, yet laughing at his comment, expecting a joke to be made about how what’s on the screen is way more embarrassing than you in his underwear. Yet he said something completely different. “You always look pretty. Very pretty” his voice was soft as he now looked at you, and you felt his gaze on your skin, your cheeks, your eyelashes, yet refused to look at him and face whatever was happening in that night.

The windows rattled once again, breaking the momentary spell that hovered in the room, hypnotizing both of you with the haze of uncertain feelings. You heard his breathing as well, heavy and nervous now, his heart racing and yours matching his, maybe because you were so deeply connected or maybe because your feelings and his were now the same shade of complexity.

 You wondered if this is why you had stopped sleep overs together. Perhaps it was the fear of facing the fact that things were not as simple and easy to brush off when the clock hit 3am and his hand was on his and your head on his shoulder and you had no intention of moving. And he shared these same thoughts, realizing how that letting go of you right now would probably be the worst thing that could happen, the scariest thought that could possibly cross his mind.

All this happened in fractions of second, too short for any of you to truly acknowledge what was happening, his voice interrupting both of your thoughts as he spoke once again, “obviously not as pretty as Edward Cullen but-“ to which you rolled your eyes and laughed. “I bet he’d look better in your sweatshirt” you said, another sip of beer falling on your lips.

“Impossible” he replied, a smile on his lips, his eyes finally meeting yours and then taking your whole appearance in, your cheeks blushing shyly at how attentively he looked at you, at how his gaze seemed so tender and soft. A sudden urgency to feel his lips on yours filled your thoughts with sheer intensity that terrified you. You hadn’t seen Max that way, hadn’t considered it nor question it before, not even when your dates and boyfriends accused you of things, not when your friends commented on how you looked at him. Yet in that exact moment, something shifted completely, perhaps stirred by the storm outside, perhaps because it simply felt right in that moment to feel wrong.

“Can I kiss you?” he suddenly asked. The innocence of the question made you giggle, the contrast between his soft and careful voice and his adult look with a week old stubble making you giddy and timid as you nodded.

His lips touched yours with caution, yet with undeniable fondness that made you question why this hadn’t happened before. You felt his smile in between the kiss, the satisfaction of finally breaking this unknown wall that had existed between you for so long, and which you remained so unaware about.

Pulling away, Max’s eyes stared into yours before moving to the screen, a satisfied smile on his now slightly redder than usual lips, your own face mimicking his. “Edward Cullen could never kiss as well as you” he whispered, earning himself another soft punch, followed by 3 more films worth of kissing.

[yzzart]

hii!! love your work and i appreciate you so much for writing for tom <3 i was wondering if you could write a tom blyth x reader for the interview the cast did of how well the know each other??

An unfair test.

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader

summary: do you, Rachel and Josh, really, know Tom?

word count: 1.990!

notes: anon, you don't know how much i enjoy writing these types of interviews and i love you for requesting this! — and i'm serious, I LOVE writing this!

"And today, we'll be competing against each other to see how well we know our friend Tom Blyth!" — You explained, crossing your legs and excited about what could happen.

"And I'm saying…" — Rachel raised a finger up, supporting it in a sign of pronouncement. — "I'm saying that I think it's unfair for Y/N to participate in this!" — She laughed, looking at you and, soon, wanting support from Josh; you took one of the small cards that Tom was holding, which was part of the game, and placed it on your face, holding it.

"I also think!" — Josh confessed. — "Is asking his girlfriend to answer questions about him cheating?" — He asked, jokingly, with his arms raised.

"Not in my world." — Tom mentioned, shrugging his shoulders, looking at the camera and pointing the small white cards towards it.

"Are you afraid of losing?" — Now it was your turn to tease, arching your eyebrows and running a hand through some strands of your hair and returning the small card to your boyfriend.

"Oh yeah?" —Rachel said; while, Tom's hand gently and knowingly held your and the camera captured and focused on the moment. - "Look at this!" — She exclaimed, surprised and Josh's laugh was followed by the camera.

"Alright, let's do it." — Tom continued with an excited tone, moving the pen, which will be used, and reading for quick seconds the question that was on one of the cards. — "First question…" — He placed the card with the name 'Vanity Fair' on his chest. — "…what is my biggest fear?"

Tom looked at you, with a funny look of complicity and as if he was saying "oh, you know the answer" and it was, impossible, to try or contain the laughter. — Receiving looks and attention from Rachel and Josh.

"She knows." — Josh stated, thinking about his possible answer or something that could come to a correct conclusion. — "She definitely knows." — Leaning on the chain, you touched his arm.

"It's kind of funny to look at you and be like, hm, let me guess." — Rachel leaned over, resting her fingers on her chin, indicating a thoughtful pose and appearance. — "Let me guess, you don't wanna die alone." — She laughed. — "Please, Y/N, give me a clue!" — Her head rested on your shoulder.

"Wait, i guess i'm not so sure about my answer." — Tom's eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened, dramatically, a little at your words. — "I just think! "— You bit your lip, poking his knee.

"I have a guess." — Rachel turned to her boyfriend, waiting for him to say something or even give the correct answer.

"I think, mine is probably a little bit more shallow, but i think i got a guess, too." — Tom laughed at Josh's comment.

"Mine's the opposite." — Rachel said. — "You have a fear of like open water." — She observed some reaction or at least a simple speck of something new on his face, trying to guess if she was correct, but, she found nothing. — "Okay, you don't."

"What, is that your guess?" — He asked, tilting his head, as if wanting confirmation and certainty, to Rachel.

"Yeah, that's my guess." — She shook her head.

"Okay, Josh?" — Tom asked.

"I was gonna say mountain lions." — He reflected, still not sure if he would really go ahead with this guess and loud, synchronized laughter erupted in the room.

"In what way is this more shallow?" — Your boyfriend questioned himself and looked for a justification, a meaning for that comment. — "I'm curious."

"That's very poetic, in certain words." — You raised his hand in defense.

"I thought you were gonna say something like conceptual." — He referred to Rachel's guess, which failed along the way, and tried to justify it.

"Are you sure about your guess, darling?" — Tom pointed the card, with the answer, at you and he couldn't hide, even biting his lip, the anxious smile and, really, hoping that you would say the right answer. — "Or will it be a concrete answer?"

"You're making me nervous, excuse me?" — Rachel and Josh laughed. — "Definitely snakes." — You replied confidently, looking at your boyfriend and then at the camera.

"Actually, ironically, and that's like my childhood fear…" — He waved his hand. — "…which i've already overcome." — Tom finally turned the little card over so that the answer was visible and being revealed. — "Snakes!"

"The purest irony, that's incredible." — Tom pointed at you, a sign of affirmation. — "And so funny at the same time."

"Yes!" — He turned the card over again.. — "I was afraid of snakes when i was a kid because i saw a lot of Indiana Jones, and i watched a lot." — A scenario of little Tom watching Indiana Jones played in his head, causing a smile to appear on his lips. — "And i feel like this fear transformed me, you know?"

"Because cool people can be afraid of snakes." — Rachel added.

"Because cool people are afraid of snakes." — Tom agreed.

"And the fact that on set, we had two snakes, and you had to act with them for one part, is impressive." — Tom once again placed his hand on your knee, squeezing it lightly.

"But, i'm not afraid of them anymore." — Maybe, a little, but, he wouldn't say at that moment. — "I've had a lot of therapy, honey." — You laughed. — "That's my biggest childhood fear, like, it's the first thing that would come to my mind if you asked me that."

In the future, during the editing of the video, a scoreboard with your name, Rachel's and Josh's would appear at that moment and with each one's score. — And you would be ahead, even with your colleagues' comments about how unfair it seemed that you were winning. — Indeed.

"Next question!" — Tom warned, holding up another card. — "Who is my ideal dinner guest?" — He looked at you again as you thought of yet another answer or possible guess.

"Normally, i would say, but, anyway." — You shrugged, pretending to be thinking about something and got laughs in the room, including from the people who were working behind the cameras; Rachel rested her hand on your back, still laughing. — "This is difficult even for me."

"That's my first and foremost answer!" — Tom stuttered confidently, lifting the paper carefully so that the answer wasn't visible. — "But, let's consider a second option."

"I'm going to say Francis Lawrence…" — Rachel suggested, slowly, and focusing on the main camera in front of her. — "…director of The Hunger Games." — You laughed. — "And to be fair, we'd all have him as a special guest, and he's the best guest."

"He's a great dinner guest." — You mumbled. — "I think he could easily be my guess."

"Oh, mine too." — Rachel positioned herself. — “And i feel like you, that's your ideal, someone who can talk about wine and loves food.” — She paused, thinking about her words and acting as if she said something. — "Y/N could fit that description like a shame, now that i see it." — Her voice swore, and turning her head towards you .

"I was going to say that now!" — Josh said, crossing his arms. — "My guess, which i feel is terrible, is going to be Cyndi Lauper, you know." — He uncrossed his arms, resting one of them on his leg and Rachel hugged the other.

"Okay, okay." — Tom turns the paper to the camera. — "I think it would be David Bowie." — God, you would never get that right.

"I swear he didn't cross my mind for a second." — Your head shook in denial, and in disbelief.

"Me too, i wouldn't understand that." — Josh looked at one of the cameras and Rachel moved one of her hands, a little in disbelief and intrigued.

"What it is, i just think it would be really fun." — Tom tried to justify. — "Okay, so, we have no points for Rachel and Josh and…" — He acted out a movement like they were playing a drum. — "…one point for Y/N."

"We are terrible." — Rachel confessed to her boyfriend. — "Terrible."

“And i feel like she can get another point now.” — Tom read the question quickly, before looking at you, who furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

"Really?" — You questioned, shook your leg and the british nodded.

"What's my go-to karaoke song?" — He read it and, in the same second, he started writing the answer and thousands of songs ran through his mind; one after the other.

The last karaoke night where you and Tom were present was recent; and, magically, incredible to the point of completing an album of photos and videos in your gallery. — However, it was clearly impossible to conclude what his favorite song was. — And it wasn't an exaggeration or anything like that.

"And you saying i was going to get this one right." — Your complaint passed through the ears of your boyfriend, who showed an incredulous expression.

"Our last karaoke night was, like, two weeks ago?" — Tom didn't remember, and he remembered few things. — "I think, i'm not sure."

"I'm not going to karaoke with you guys" — Rachel's soft voice introduced. — "And i need to start going." — She turned to Josh and you.

"I don't think you sing." — Josh looked up as he spoke.

"He actually sings." — You answered him. — "And he dedicates himself like no one else, a true spectacle."

“I will say it was definitely a punk rock thing.” — Josh's guess entered his mind, and he thought about agreeing with it. — "Something like."

"I would say that a chorus of a Spice Girls or Backsteet Boys song with your voice crossed my mind, but i don't want to consider it as a guess right now." — You placed your hand on your mouth, laughing at the fictional scenario.

"And i would say i don't know what to say." — Rachel murmured. — "Serious."

"I'll give you a hint, it's probably not what you'd expect." — Tom tried to help, but nothing came to her mind.

"I guess that didn't help, dear."

"Mambo number five…" — Josh suggested, speaking quietly, but sure of his guess.

"Josh's mambo number five, what's your guess?" — Blyth directed the small card towards you and Rachel, waiting for your response.

"Any of backsteet boys." — You didn't even specify any of the group's songs, and you wouldn't even have time to choose them; it was as if all their names had disappeared from your consciousness. — "Any one."

"I'm gonna say…" — Rachel thought.

"No, i'll change mine to All the small things." — At the last second, Josh changed his guess and you thought about changing but decided against it.

"All the small things, okay." — Tom pointed out.

"I'm going to say 'I miss you' by Blink 182." — Rachel said with certainty, as there weren't many options due to the lack of opportunities to attend singing nights.

"Wow, it's really the 2000s." — He separated some cards on his lap before turning to the question. — "The answer is, somewhat surprisingly…" — For the third time, Tom turns over the paper with the answer. — "Senhorita by Justin Timberlake."

The disbelieving and doubtful reactions and expressions on your faces were met by Tom's warm and loud laugh. — None of you expected that song. — And you don't remember him singing it.

Or, simply put, that memory was in the back of your mind.

"No chance, not possible." — You said intrigued, looking at your boyfriend and shaking your head in denial, for the second time.

"I don't remember you singing that." — Josh also tried to remember or have some memory with the mentioned song but nothing happened, he didn't remember either. — "Serious."

"We sing!" — Tom insinuated, pointing at you and Josh, who looked at each other and still don't remember the moment; that is if it really existed and he sang that song. — "Because Y/N mentioned Backsteet boys, we can put at least half a point." — Therefore, your name would have a new punctuation, even though it was small and not very valid. — "And she continues ahead!"

"Oh, i give up." — Rachel and Josh spoke at the same time, holding their hands up and laughing loudly.

[paddockletters]

You need to do it | charles leclerc (twitter au)

paring: charles leclerc x reader summary: you and charles' fans are tired of his broken phone so you'll do something about it. warnings: none author's note: I'm back after many months, I hope you liked this story because I enjoyed writing it and I've been wanting to write about it for a long time because I thought it was so funny how people were complaining about Charles's phone, well, as I always say... english is not my first language so pardon me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me—

"So, Char… we're going shopping today," you said to your boyfriend as you sat next to him on the couch.

"What do you mean when you say 'we'?" he dropped his phone and turned his attention to you.

"Obviously you and me."

"Love, you know I love spending time with you, but I just don't feel like it today. Why don't you ask Gemma?" he said as he tilted his head.

"Baby, it's been a while since we've hung out. It would be nice to do it to distract you a bit, please," you said as you climbed onto his lap and pouted, trying to convince him.

"Y/n." "Charlessss, please."

"Alright, come on," he finally said, and you squealed with happiness. He couldn't resist not saying "no" for so long; he always or almost always gave in.

The whole idea had appeared after a few weeks when you were on your phone scrolling through Twitter. You found many fans laughing and complaining about Charles' broken phone, which had been like that for two months. It seemed that every time it was cracking a little bit more.

Arriving at the mall, you started to walk around, entering some clothing shops for you and some for Charles. Regardless of the goal you wanted to accomplish today, you loved going out with Charles anywhere, but shopping with him was great because it was like going out with your best friend. He would help you pick out clothes; he would tell you how you looked —to him, everything on you looked amazing. "You look beautiful, mon amour, it looks like everything you try on is made for you." So yes, you loved shopping with him.

You did the same with him. You would try to help him find clothes that matched, and he would buy them, but he always seemed to forget how to match them because his outfit in the paddock indicated that.

"Charles, I'm hungry." The idea is that near the food court, there was the Apple shop, so "casually" you would walk in there.

"Yeah, me too, let's see what we can find."

Right, your plan was working.

"Char, we can go into Apple; I think I need a new charger because mine doesn't work anymore."

"But, you didn't have…?" you pulled him towards the shop without letting him finish his sentence.

You started walking around the shop a bit until you decided it was a good idea to suggest a new mobile phone.

"Baby, don't you think it's time to change your phone? I mean, it works, but… at some point, it won't, and…"

"You too? My fans keep making fun of it," he said, pretending to be offended.

"Charles, your phone is broken as… I don't even know how you can still use it…" "Because it still works," he cut you off.

"You literally can't even see the full screen, the text, and even the memes you try to show me. I can't even see them because of how broken it is," you said, laughing, trying to make him reason.

And certainly, every time he wanted to show you a funny tweet, you couldn't even see it, so you didn't understand how he was still laughing at something he DIDN'T SEE.

"Besides, you have to change it because you will lose all your photos, videos because you told me you didn't pay for iCloud so you say…" you said as you headed to the checkout to pay for the charger which of course you don't need but could be useful at some point.

That's when Charles started to think about the cons of not changing his phone. Even though it was broken, it still worked, but eventually, it would stop working, and as you were right, he would lose all his photos, which included photos of the two of you, and that would hurt, so….

"See, it wasn't that hard to do. You see, it wasn't that hard to do it. 'Don't worry, I'll help you set it up quickly,' you said, smiling, as you hugged him by the waist and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I can't believe you convinced me; you have power over me…" "We all know that, now let's go home. We might need our first pictures with your new mobile phone."

[snipersfucker]

As someone new to transformer fics, I'd love a fic where Mirage and the reader learn what the others name for body parts are (hand/servo, etc.) And obviously Mirage uses it as an opportunity to put the moves on the reader.

yall are so creative with these i legit opened my mouth when i read that...... such a good idea omg lets go (im so deep in that shit i legit remember most robot names for these body parts without having to look em up lmao)

"That's a chassis."

You let out a sigh as Mirage pointed at another part of his metal body. You knew you wouldn't be able to remember all these ridiculously strange names, but still wanted to be a good student, especially because you asked him to teach you.

"Mine's a bit bigger than the ones your little boys have."

And there it was. His constant bragging, showing-off, comments that indicated he was damn aware he was better than humans.

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, not having to look up that much because he was sitting on his... aft. Or something.

"Helm, face plate, optics, pedes, tank..." He kept pointing at random body parts of his, naming them as fast as he could just to get to the most interesting ones he could use to finally rizz you up.

"'m surprised you don't have a diploma for being the best teacher ever, Mirage," you muttered under your breath shamelessly, sarcasm dripping from your tongue as you stood there with your arms crossed on your chest.

He liked the way you said his name, even if it wasn't in a particularly nice tone.

"No speaking unless you're being spoken to, miss," he reprimanded you like a strict teacher would, using his best Optimus Prime voice. Then, before you could talk back, he extended his left arm, putting it right in front of your face. He made a fist but allowed his middle finger to stay up, "What's this called?" he asked you, even though you haven't gone through this particular body part yet.

"Flipping someone off, sir," you answered in an overly eager, sweet tone, as if you were trying to sound like the teacher's pet.

You calling him sir made his spark skip a beat or two.

"Wrong." He lowered his hand and placed it on his metal thigh with a soft clang. He shook his helm in fake disappointment, letting out a long sigh. "It's a digit. And what do we do with digits?" he continued in a teacher's voice, making a specific motion with his servo to encourage you to answer his question, even though he automatically did so in his mind.

We put them inside disobedient girls.

"We flip people off, sir," you responded in a fake innocent, childish tone, straightening your back and smiling widely as if waiting for praise for giving him a good answer. It made you cringe internally but you also thought it was funny so the choice whether to continue talking like that or just leave was easy to make.

He snorted at your words, shaking his head in amusement once more as he brought his servo to your body and flicked your arm gently with his two digits.

"That's what we do with 'em."

"Oh, fuck off." You smacked his servo before he could pull it away from you. Even though you could barely feel the flick of his robot fingers, you still massaged your arm, hoping it'd make him feel at least a little bit bad, and he'd stop bullying you.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" He raised his optical ridge at your words, not being able to fight back a teasing smirk forming on his lips.

You could kiss me with that mouth.

As soon as the thought appeared in his mind, he immediately got rid of it, not letting it distract him.

"Tibulen, cadulen..." he began naming other body parts, and there was no way in hell you'd be able to remember those. "Glossa..." He stuck his metal tongue out, pointing at it lazily with his index digit.

A question popped up in your head, "You got saliva?"

For the first time, you were actually curious about something, expecting an actual, truthful response, but instead you got what Mirage was best at. Sarcasm.

"Oh, yeah, our saliva's made out of corrosive acid actually. Cool stuff." He shrugged nonchalantly as if what he just said was nothing. "Want me to spit on you so you can get the drill?" he asked overly casually, already slightly leaning in your direction.

He was having so much fun...

You grimaced at his question, even though you knew he was most likely joking. Most likely.

"Pass," you murmured under your breath.

"...But there are other ways you could... feel it."

His time to shine has come which he was very much aware of.

His unnecessarily mysterious tone made you snort quietly, an eyebrow involuntarily raised as you asked him with amusement dancing on your tongue, "Care to share?"

He tilted his head with a very, very sly smirk on his lips, which partly gave you an answer to your question. The realisation almost made your face drop but you contained yourself, and just rolled your eyes at his silent offer, pretending not to notice the heat spreading across your own cheeks.

"No."

"I didn't say anything," he responded in an amused, innocent tone, raising his servos in a defensive gesture.

"Yeah, but your eyes said a lot," you argued, the sudden shift in your confidence making you unable to find the situation as funny as before.

He made an unbelievable amount of butterflies awaken and fly around in your stomach, and as pleasant as it felt, you couldn't show him that.

"Optics," he corrected you immediately, playful superiority in his tone coming back just in time to crush you once more. He leaned in, making the gap between your faces a lot smaller than before. "And I'm pretty sure you're just imaginin' things," he added teasingly, the smirk almost challenging you.

His plan was working.

"Am I?" You tilted your head slightly to the left, your gaze never leaving his blue optics.

The intensity of your eye contact made him back off just a bit, before he shook his head in both amusement and surprise at the sudden comeback of your confidence.

"We're not done yet," he just said, which may have sounded like a warning but you felt like he was talking about something else than this game you were both playing. "I didn't show you everything," he explained, even though this lesson about his anatomy was the smallest thing occupying his mind at the moment.

You refrained yourself from frowning, feeling pretty sure that he'd already named every single body part of his possible, but you didn't want him to notice how little attention you were actually paying. So you just nodded, getting ready to hear more of that very interesting stuff.

"...Ever seen a metal dick?"

Your jaw almost dropped when your brain registered his shameless question. You couldn't even say anything to that, just unsurely shaking your head to show him that you, in fact, have never seen a metal dick.

And you thought he was about to offer to present one to you just now, but he just let out an amused noise. "Too bad."

And with these words, he transformed into a silver Porsche and drove past you towards the exit of the garage, leaving you confused, breathless, and wanting something more...

might make a part 2 for this with smut if you want

[bookuce]

Fools Rush In (Roman Reigns)

SUMMARY: Nessa wasn’t looking for love, neither was Joe, but when you know, you know. Isn’t it funny how fate work?

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OCs. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, Joe is Roman. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x Black OC

TROPE: Love At First Sight

WARNINGS: N/A

WORD COUNT: 1904

CHAPTER ONE

It was supposed to be a Girls’ Night for Nessa and Isabel. The plan was dinner and a movie, but now they wanted drinks. So they found themselves in a popular nightclub here in Miami. They approached the well-lit bar, their eyes visually drinking up the mountain of alcohol in front of them. “So,” Nessa breathes. “What do you want? The first round is on me.” The brunette turns her attention to her best friend. Her fingers excitedly tap the counter. “Are we feeling darks or clears?” She presses.

“Yes,” Isabel answers with a breathy laugh.

“Girl, I can’t drink like that anymore.” Nessa giggles. The statement wasn’t far from the truth. The last time she mixed her liquors, she woke up to potentially blackmailing videos on her phone. Never again. Nessa hums softly, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. “Let’s play it safe with clears. Vodka?” She asks. Isabel grimaces.

“Tequila?” She answers with a question.

They exchange stares in silence for a moment before putting their fists out. They shake them four times. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” They say in unison, throwing out different hand gestures. Nessa’s fist remains tight while Isabel’s hand is open. Paper beats rock.

“Lo siento, mi amor!” She exclaims while closing her hand around Nessa’s fist. “Maybe next time.” She turns her attention toward the bartender passing off shots to some nearby clubbers. “Two shots of Teremana, please!” The bartender nods at her request and turns to grab the bottle from the alcohol mountain. “With lime,” she adds with a smile. “Yeah.” she nods slightly.

Nessa shakes her head at the petite Latina. It was never a dull moment with her lively best friend. She turns over her left shoulder to grab her wallet from her back pocket but is halted by dark eyes watching her a few feet down. A smirk curls onto the lips of this bearded man once caught. Anxiety would rush through Nessa’s veins like electricity, causing slight chest pains for her.

Oh, he is handsome, she thought.

The bar lights lit his features well, the shadows chiseling out his bone structure. His hair laid against his head flat, pulled up into a bun, the sides shaved. He looks groomed—at least from here, he did.

“Ness,” Isabel calls, snapping Nessa out of the trance she was in.

The distracted woman turns her attention back to her friend, forgetting all about grabbing her wallet. “Yeah?” She asks. Isabel gestures towards the two shots in front of her. The bartender standing before them waited impatiently for a payment. “Oh shit, sorry.” She mutters, reaching into her back pocket for her wallet. A tan hand appears in front of her, a black credit card between two large fingers.

“Put it on my tab.” A deep voice says right above her ear. “I have their drinks all night.” He adds. The bartender eyed the black card in the man’s hand before taking it.

“What’s the name?” She asks.

“Joe.” He answers. Just as Nessa turns to look at the man, he lowers his hand for her to shake. “Nice to meet you.” He says to her with a half-grin. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of approval from her best friend at the tall man.

Ness takes the warm hand, shaking it slightly. His hands were rough, a sure indication of a hardworking man. She now wonders what he does. Construction? Maybe. Architect? Possibly. “Vanessa—Nessa for short.” She says finally. He presses his lips into a thin grin and nods his head once at her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nessa.” He says, opting for the shorter version of her name. Mentally, she was happy he did. She preferred it over her full name. She felt more like a Nessa than Vanessa. They would continue to shake hands slightly while gazing at each other, both not realizing that they were still doing it. Isabel would watch them curiously from behind Nessa. She gawked over the man’s size. In height, he towered over her and her friend. She could tell he was very fit. She’s now wondering if he has a regimen he’d be willing to share.

“It’s a pleasure,” Nessa says, finally looking away from the chocolate-brown eyes that entranced her. Her eyes find their hands still wrapped around each other’s, and she drops it. She would peer up at him from the side, noticing his eyes still on her. Her heart began to soar at the sight. My, this man was overwhelmingly attractive.

“Thank you for the drinks!” Isabel would say suddenly. Nessa clears her throat and nods.

“Yeah, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” She says, chiming in.

“Well, I had to find a reason to come over here.” He explains with a shrug. “It’s no problem.” Silence would fall between the pair, causing Nessa to look ahead. She wasn’t too good at talking to men. It was only a matter of time before she said something to chase him off, or he realized she was not what he was looking for—whatever that may be.

“So…” Isabel chimes in. “Joe, what brings you here?”

“My cousins. Nightclubs aren’t really my thing, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He confesses. “What about you two? Here with anyone?” He asks. His second question is for Nessa. Joe hoped to God she wasn’t here with anyone. If she was, his efforts to know her would be in vain.

“It’s a Girl’s Night,” Nessa says, opting out of his second question.

“But are you here with anyone?” He asks, now directly asking her.

Isabel smiled at the interaction, mentally hoping Nessa would take what he was giving. Meeting guys in the club wasn’t the safest idea, but he seemed pretty sober to her. At the moment, she sees no warning lights flashing above his head. “I’m married,” Isabel says, jumping in again. If she could do anything for her best friend right now, it would be to set her up with this fine specimen of a man. She leans into her best friend, nudging her to speak up.

Nessa turns to Isabel briefly, her eyes widening before returning to Joe. “I’m not.” She says finally.

“A lucky guy at all?” He asks.

“No.”

“Lucky me.” He smiles, revealing perfectly white teeth. “Bartender,” He calls out, waving his hand. The same one that served us earlier approaches us. “Another round for us, please.” He says, whirling his index finger in the air.

Joe spoke with a swagger Nessa had never heard from a man. He radiated so much confidence. If he looks like that, how can you blame him? She’s now cycling through possible professions again. Lawyer, maybe. Doctor, no. Athlete, strong possibility. The poor girl was guessing everything but a serial killer. Nessa would take a glance down at his right hand. No ring, no ring tan. He was an unmarried man himself.

“Lucky girl?” She asks suddenly.

“Hm?” He hums, his thick brows lifting.

“I said, is there a lucky girl?” She repeats, leaning in towards him. Joe looks at her, quickly shaking his head.

“No, not for a little over a year now.” He answers, giving her more info than she was seeking. He reaches down to grab one of the three shots before them. He tosses it down the hatch, his jaw clenching and unclenching at the taste and burn. His last relationship wasn’t one he preferred to talk about. Though he should’ve been mad at his ex, he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He’s gone most of the year; who’d want to stay with someone they barely see?

“Are you from here?” She asks.

“No, I’m from Pensacola.” And there it was. Joe was from another city. One that happened to be six hundred miles away from here. He was here for vacation, here for fun. She was not interested in that. “What about you?”

“I’m local.” She breathed, her shoulders shrugging as she spoke. “Been here my entire life.” She adds now reaching to grab her shot. She tosses it back slowly, her eyes closing slightly. She places the glass on the counter.

“That—.”

“Look,” She says suddenly. “I’m sure you’re a great guy and all, and I really hate to assume, but I’m not looking for a hookup.” She looks around. “Especially here.” She looks at him with a shake of her head. “Not a smart idea.”

Joe’s eyes venture away from her face, his eyes now on the bar counter. His large fingers would curl against the surface while he chose his words. “I understand.” He says, nodding. He lifts his hand, his palm up and open. “I’m not much of—of a hookup person myself.” He explains looking over at her. “I barely know how to do that kind of stuff—the pickup lines and whatnot.” He explains, leaning towards her slightly.

“Right,” Nessa nods.

“My cousins tried to teach me, but I’m not really feeling it, you know what I mean? I’ve never been one to do that.” He was now rambling, his anxiety starting to spike. Maybe he shouldn’t have come out. He can already hear Jon and Josh teasing him for not being able to pick up women. It should come easy to him with the way he looked, but how he looked and who he was were two completely different people. He stops himself, a slow blink to follow while he gathers himself. Just talk, Joe, he thinks. He takes a breath. “I just figured I’d come over and introduce myself, maybe find a reason to come back to this place. Miami is a bit scary after a certain hour with all of the…colorful people.” She chuckles at that, receiving a grin from him in return. Maybe he was winning her over again. “Maybe I can get your number instead?” He proposes.

Nessa watches him for a moment, her eyes searching for ill intent she’d never find. He did seem like a sweet guy; at least she was hoping he was. Isabel was staring a hole in the back of Nessa’s head. Surely this woman has some sense. If she didn’t give this man her number, she was going to give her a piece of her mind after (and maybe sneak her number to him behind her back).

“Uh,” Nessa starts.

“Perra, dale tu número.” Isabel hisses, pinching her side. Nessa shrinks away from the pinch, looking back at her friend who was glaring at her.

“Sure, why not.” She says, looking at Joe. A large smile would spread across his face as he fished his phone out of his coat pocket. She’d take the warm phone, putting in her info as a contact. She passes the phone back to him. “Don’t make me regret it.” She warns him.

“I won’t.” He says, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Thank you,” He nods, looking between her and her friend. “I’ll let you ladies get back to your Girls Night. Remember, your drinks are on me. Be safe.” He says, walking off to find his cousins. Nessa and Isabel both watched as he vanished into the crowded space that was the dance area.

“I can’t believe you almost fumbled that!” She exclaims. “That man is fine, fit, and looks rich, mi amoré, okay? Alex is lucky I love him, because that one would’ve gotten fu—.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Nessa snips.

CHAPTER 2

———————————————————————————

A/N: so…fancy seeing you here LMAO. Should’ve seen it coming tbh. This is the first chapter of another little fanfic I have tucked away. I hope you like it!

[lowkeyremi]

Haikyuu men as fathers pt 2.

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Ft. Kuroo, Tendou, Atsumu, and Tsukki.

Decided instead of babies I wanted to do slightly older kids! :)

CW: Indication of pregnancy, relationships, marriage and some angst for tsukki’s

Enjoy lovelies <33

…………….

Kuroo Tetsuro:

“Nap time! If my two munchkins don’t go to take a nap, the nap time monster will come out!” He hears little playful shrieks from his son and daughter.

“But Daddy, I don’t want to!” His daughter whines. A soft smile arose on his face as he bent down to his 6 year old daughter’s level. “Mommy will get mad at me if you little nuggets don’t go lay down.” Kuroo covers his eyes and pretends to cry. His son comes out of nowhere and starts trying to comfort him. “Don’t cry daddy! Umiko and me will go lay down! Come on sissy, we don’t want daddy to cry anymore.” 6 year old Shinji drags his twin sister to their room.

As soon as he’s sure they’ve turned the corner a lopsided grin appears on his face, “works every time.”

He is a dad boss no questions asked

You need a break from the kids? He’ll take them to the park and get all their energy out

For the first couple of months of their lives you would have to drag Kuroo out of their room because his 6’2” ass would get in the crib and sleep with his babies

He DEFINITELY took some time off of work to be there for you and the babies

He always makes corny dad jokes (most likely about science) “Why are chemists excellent for solving problems?” …. “They have all the solutions.”

omg he thinks his jokes are so fucking funny too (his kids learn the hyena laugh 🤦🏽‍♀️)

Whenever you’re away he always sends pictures of what he and the kids are up to.

idgaf abt what you say, that man can COOK

Tendou Satori:

“You can’t tell mom I let you have chocolate before dinner, ‘kay?” He looks into his 9 year old daughter’s eyes waiting for her response.

“It’s our little secret!” She giggles and man is laughing contagious because Tendou starts to laugh too. You were working a little later than usual so Tendou picked up Mayumi even though it wasn’t his day to do so. “What do you want for dinner, May?”

Her eyes widen at the statement. Which tells Tendou a WHOLE lot “Dad’s cooking?!” She asks not because she’s excited but because she’s scared for her life. Tendou may be a chocolatier but this man is not a very good cook unless it’s pasta.

“Nah, we’re gonna stop and get dinner before we go home. Dad’s gotta close shop though, so I thought I’d ask so we can order.”

She hops off the counter and does a cute little dance. I mean.. it’s in her genes. “You’re the best, Dad!”

He shakes his head with a smile, “oh I try!”

SO PROTECTIVE

The second he finds out someone was messing with his baby, he called the teacher and talked things out with her

He is a sucker for spoiling, you often scold him for it but he still does it anyway

He SINGS HIS DAUGHTER TO SLEEP>>>>>

He is the “ouchie” police, his daughter would always giggle but anytime she stubbed her toe on a chair or something he’d start talking to whatever caused his little girl pain and start scolding it (he knows it makes her feel better)

NOT a cook please he will burn the place by accident

Definitely ruined some intimate moments because instead of walking baby girl back to bed he gets dressed and offers to let her cuddle with you guys in the bed (after changing sheets ofc) (he wants his little girl to feel loved)

When she was a baby he’d call you every hour while he was at work to make sure you and the baby are okay

He almost passed out when the school called saying Mayumi broke her leg

He rushed her to the hospital so fast “dw baby, daddy’s here for you.” “I know it hurts princess.”

He went around interrogating the kids in her class thinking one of them pushed her, he was shocked to find out she climbed to the top of the playground and jumped off of it 😭

Definitely got his daughter obsessed with frogs

Miya Atsumu:

“Mama’s gonna kill us! What’s yer last words?” He says in slight shock. His sons start crying thinking that you were actually gonna kill them.

“Not literally boys! Just… this mess- oh jeez.” He looks around bubbles and soap all over the floor.

Atsumu told the twins to ‘be good and color ‘til papa’s done in the shower’ and he came back to this. Dawn dish soap all over the floor and bubbles galore.

The cherry on top had to be that the dog was soaking in mixed berry juice because five year old Kosuke tried to pour himself a cup of juice.

“Alright! C’mon boys, we gotta tidy up before mama gets home!” You would be home in 2 hours…

They cleaned up the bubble mess, after being distracted like 10 times and having a few bubble fights.

Next was giving the twins a bath. Which proved to be harder than it needed to be. Kosuke was mad at Kensuke because he kept showing him his butt. Honestly, Atsumu had to keep himself from laughing.

“That’s enough, Ken. Nobody want to see yer lil butt. Hurry up ‘n wash cuz papa still has to bathe Shoko.” Kensuke’s bad self is splashing water in the tub and it’s getting all over his twin. Kosuke doesn’t like it so he smacks his brother and the latter begins to cry.

“DADDY, K-KO KOSUKE HIT ME, AHHHHHHH.” Atsumu rubs his temple. He all but freezes when he feels a soft hand kneed into his shoulder.

“Seems like you guys had a great time, Shoko’s covered in juice.” He turns his head to look at you.

“it’s not what ya think, hon!” You shake your head at him.

“Ko, don’t hit your brother. When papa is being annoying you don’t see me hitting him, now do you?” He answers honestly, “sometimes you do… you’ll punch papa’s shoulder.”

He got you there lol. “Well that’s more out of love. Apologize to him and you,” you point to your little trouble maker, “don’t provoke your brother, got it?” He nods and goes to rub his eyes. Which is why he started crying for the second time because he got soap in his eyes…

Anyway after their bath and dinner the boys were sent to bed. Shoko was bathed and you and Atsumu were laying in bed.

“I shoulda been watching them..” he admits. You agree. “You live and you learn ‘Tsumu.”

He had no idea what he was doing at first tbh

he can be a bit lazy w the boys sometimes but in the end he pulls it together

The type of dad to make you sit there and say cheese for 500 years while he tries to get the perfect picture

He was mad cuz he thought the twins loved samu more than him

he was sad when they didn’t seem too interested in volleyball “Atsumu, they’re five.” … “Still!”

Impulsively bought a dog cuz his sons wouldn’t stop talking abt having one

In the end he loves his boys very much and would do anything for them

Tsukishima Kei:

“I hate you mom! I really wanted to go!” Your 13 year old daughter slammed her door. She was angry because you didn’t let her go to a dance some kid in her class was hosting. It’s not that she particularly wanted to go, she was just mad that her 17 year old brother got to go out to his friend’s party.

Your husband emerges from his office, he adjusts his glasses and looked at you with curiosity. You sigh hugging him, “Kei.. am I a bad mother?” He squeezes you in the hug, “not in the slightest. We’re doing what’s best for them. What’s got her so upset?”

“She wants to go to this party but I said no because I don’t know any of the parents there. Also, I’m just scared something will happen to her.”

He rubs your back in a comforting way. “I’ll let her go-” you interrupt, “Kei!” He gives you a quick peck to the lips.

“Wasn’t done…” you stayed quiet waiting for him to finish. He clears his throat. “As I was saying… I’ll allow her to go if I chaperone. If she doesn’t like that she won’t go.” He decided and you sigh in relief.

“I’ll go order pizza. Can you talk to her?” He nods, “Supreme.” You roll your eyes at him and smile. “I know what you like dummy.” He playfully flips you off and you laugh in shock at how childish he is even though he’s past his prime years.

He walks over to Hanae’s door and knocks softly. “Go away mom! I don’t like you!” Tsukishima shakes his head. He’s not going to tolerate her disrespecting you, the person who birthed her. He opens the door and she’s on her bed with her headphones on and dried tears on her face.

“Dad…” She already knew what was to come. She knows he doesn’t like when she disrespects you like that. “Don’t say you hate her. She’s your mother, Hanae. It hurts her to hear those words come from your mouth.” She lowers her head and takes her headphones off.

“I didn’t mean it..” her voice is small. Tsukishima handles the situation as he usually would, find the root of the problem (even though he already knew)

“What made you say it?” He sat on her bed and pat a spot next to him basically telling her to come closer. “Um.. I wanted to go to this dance a guy a know is hosting but she said no…” her eyes didn’t meet her father’s.

“Why’d you want to go so bad?” He says bringing her chin up so she looks right into his eyes. He knows she hates it but direct communication is key, even facial expressions can reveal the slightest things.

“W-well. Ugh, why am I crying this is so stupid.” She pauses to wipe her eyes.

“You guys let Akihiko go where ever he wants but I can’t go anywhere! I hate it!” She turns her head away, Tsukki can hear the little sniffles.

“Not true. A lot of stuff that he went to when he was younger, he was chaperoned. We just barely started letting him go out alone so he can get a taste of real life. You can ask him yourself. You’re only thirteen, don’t rush it. Also your mother and I just want to protect you from dangerous situations. Your mom doesn’t know any of the people there which is why she said no.” Tsukki is once again rubbing circles into someone’s back.

“There are so many bad people in the world and we just want to make you a little safer.” She turns back to face him, she scoots closer to her dad so she can hug him.

“I’m sorry.” She says through sniffles. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” She nods, “I need a minute.” He strokes her hair as she finishes letting it all out.

“I told your mother you can go if I chaperone you.” He explains after she’s calmed down.

“Dad, you’re gonna embarrass me.” She says with a giggle, tears now drying up.

“Damn right I will. I’ll tell all those hungry little boys that you eat your boogers and you don’t shower for weeks.” He says with a sly grin. She frowns, “dad no!”

He pats her back, “alright kid go apologize if you really mean it.” You and your daughter make up and eat pizza together :3

VERY logical

also super protective

100% the kind of dad who loves his kids but puts his wife first

He’s the bad cop parent while you’re the good cop parent

He loves family cooking night where you guys cook together

he will embarrass both his children in front of their crushes (and thinks it’s the funniest thing ever)

He just seems like the kind of dad to fall asleep and get colored on 😭 they give him a lil mustache and a uni-brow

I feel like he kinda always sides with Hanae for the most part bc he was a little sibling so he knows her pain lmao

he be bragging abt his kids “Akihiko is only six and he’s already reading flawlessly” “Oh, Hanae already did that when she was three”

you wanted to delay the sex talk but like Tsukki was so blunt and just told them 😭

He’s always teasing you “If you don’t be careful Akihiko you might end up with someone as annoying as your mom” you just glare and he snickers

Such a proud dad and has a video of every one of his kids’ firsts

[stxrrwritess]

‘need some help?’

jax (the amazing digital circus) x reader smut

MINORS DNI !!

warnings : masturbation, hate fucking, porn w little to no plot, penis in vagina sex, reader is afab, slight degradation (use of slut & whore), creampie, probably ooc

words : 1,177

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Ever since appearing in this god forsaken circus, you and Jax have had constant back and forth bickering. It’s not to say you hated him, hate is a strong word. But, he definitely knew how to push your buttons and you couldn’t help but want to rip his head off sometimes.

You were in the main hall of the circus, talking to Ragatha while wandering around. You two had become pretty close since you got trapped in the circus. As you were walking, you were suddenly tripped over, falling flat onto your face. You looked up to see who the culprit was. Of course, it was Jax. Your face grew red with anger and embarrassment, as you picked yourself off the ground and dusted yourself off. “Oh, heya, toots. Didn’t see ya there, was jus’ stretchin’ my leg.” He grinned that shit eating grin, chuckling. You pointed an accusatory finger at him, as you spoke through gritted teeth, “You did that on purpose, asshole.” Before you could get another word in, Ragatha placed her hand on your shoulder, an indication that it wasn’t worth the fight. You sighed, and Jax walked off smugly. “Ugh. What a dick.” You grumbled under your breath, huffing as you crossed your arms. Ragatha seemed way too nonchalant with what had just happened, laughing softly. “Oh, come on Y/N. We all know you have a thing for him. Why don’t you just get it over with and tell him?” She asked, cocking a brow. You were gobsmacked. You? Like him? You batted your hand dismissively, a soft ‘psh’ sound escaping your mouth. “As if, Rags. You have to be kidding me. You couldn’t pay me to have any sort of feeling for him other than complete and utter dislike.”

What a lie.

Later that night, or rather, later (you couldn’t really tell the time in the digital circus. It was always a clash between both times.) You were in your room. You couldn’t help but think about what had happened earlier, and how Ragatha seemed to see right through your façade. All of the other residents were in the main hall, ‘eating’ a feast that Bubble had prepared after one of Caine’s silly adventures, and you had decided to sit this one out. Despite not even being allowed to curse in the digital circus, you wanted to experiment. You had made sure your door was locked, and slyly slinked your hand into your panties. Huh. The devs must be some sort of pervs, because you definitely felt something. You slid a finger into your heat, gasping softly at this oh so familiar feeling you hadn’t felt since getting stuck here. You began pumping your finger in and out, before adding a second. You were getting close to the edge, when you heard the doorknob of your door jiggle.

Jax had assumed you were with everyone else in the main hall, and thought it’d be funny to play a little prank on you. He jiggled your door open with one of his many keys, only to find you inside with your blanket loosely thrown over you, your eyes wide as you tried to wipe your slick into the covers. “Jax? What the fuck? What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice shaky as you panted slightly. “I-Uh, I thought you were with everyone else.” He stammered a little, feeling caught off guard to have walked in on you. He didn’t even know doing.. that was possible here. Guess you’d proven him wrong. You glared at him, wondering why he hadn’t left yet. He did the complete opposite, taking a step into your room and closing the door behind him, placing a hand on his hip. He chuckled dryly, looking you up and down as his grin grew wider. “You seriously gettin’ off in here while everyone else eats? What a whore.” He snickered, as he sauntered over to your bed. It’d be a lie to say the degradation didn’t make slick ooze down your naked thighs. “Need some help?”

—————————————————————

“F-Fuck, Jax!” You whined breathily underneath him. Jax had you bent over, one hand supporting your waist up and the other tangled in your hair. His dick (that he just realised he’d had) slammed into you at a rough pace, and he leaned down to whisper into your ear. “Ah, ah, ah, don’t want your friends to hear you being stuffed full of the guy you pretend to hate, do you?” He moved one of his hands to cover your drool covered mouth with a laugh. You were barely able to form coherent thoughts, as a string of censored curses fell out of your mouth and soft gasps. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, before he suddenly pulled out. You were about to protest, before he flipped you over onto your back. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and shoved himself back into you, this new angle doing wonders, hitting all the right spots inside of you. “Fuck, s’too much!” You felt tears prick in your eyes as he kept jackhammering into you like an animal in heat, his dick hitting much deeper now. “Take it, slut. That’s right, milk my cock.” He grunted, as he continued fucking into you, his pace staggering slightly. He leaned down, latching his lips onto your neck as he began to mark you. You knew everyone would see it tomorrow, but that was the least of your worries at this point. “You’re such a little whore , y’know that? Pretendin’ ya hate me, but I know ya were thinkin’ bout me when ya were in here gettin’ yerself off. Admit it.” His voice was strained as he panted into your ear. You could barely form the words, all that as coming out was, “Y-Yes, I was, j-just don’t stop!” You begged, your hands finding his back, scratching him slightly as you tried to hold on. He took that too literally, as he picked up his pace once more. “C-Close. I’m close, Jax.” You moaned into his ear, before coming undone around him. He kept thrusting in and out, fucking you through your orgasm until he came inside you. He stopped, as he rode out his own climax, filling you up in the process. He had his head in the crook of your neck, and you could feel his hot breath on your skin as he finished. “Haah, fuck, toots, didn’t take ya for a slut.” He said with a slight laugh, before pulling out of you and laying next to you on the bed. “Soo.. Still hate me?” He snickered, and you gave him a little too hard of a nudge to the stomach. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t push your luck before I kick you out.” You grumbled, but cuddled up against him all the same. “Fine. I was gonna offer to help you out more often, but guess not.” He teased, as he put an arm around you.

Maybe you two didn’t hate each other that much after all.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

a/n : first smut fic i’ve ever written ! apologies if it was lowkey bad i just felt goofy . i’ll probably start getting more active on here but don’t hold me to that bcs i always forget i even have a tumblr page LOL

anyways hope you enjoyed 💥

[cecilioque]

The Submas Designs are a lot more clever than you thought.

First lets look at the Submas overall design.  We know that the original design was intended to make the Subway Bosses look like clowns and kind of creepy (that backfired); hence the comically large shoes and exaggerated expressions. Let’s start to break down each part of the design. 

To begin, The Submas extreme expressions are a possible reference to the symbol of theatre; the mask of Tragedy and the Mask of Comedy.  The mask of tragedy is commonly portrayed frowning ( not necessarily cry) on a black base mask while the mask of Comedy is portrayed smiling on a white base masks. Sometimes these masks are gold or split black and white color.  The masks together represent the two extremes of the human psyche. Definitely the contrast we see between Emmet's smile and Ingo’s frown.

Next up, the coats.  These are obviously designed to look like train tracks.  The vertical grey lines representing the rails, the red brown the tie (the wood connecting the rails), and the buttons are the spikes that secure the track.  You can see the pattern best on the back of the Submas coat.  Looking at it you could laugh and say “I guess that makes the Subway boss themselves the train”, and you know what? You’re right.

This brings us to the most interesting part of their design, the color and pose.  Yes, there is an explanation to the silly pose too.  It’s so silly that we can just brush this whole design off as being another funny Pokemon character design; but unfortunately it’s actually thought out.  

The Submas themselves are the New York Subway. Or at least they are the personified version of it.  Let’s look at the colors again.  Black and White.  Very fitting for a game literally called Pokemon Black and White.  That alone brings us to some interesting comparisons with the game themes and pokemon.

Kudari or (Emmet in the English version) wears all white. He values routine and rules and is ultimately pretty point blank.  We can easily make that conclusion that  Emmet represents Reshiram and truth. If we break down his name we see that in Japanese it means something along the lines of “down train” or moving away/going down hill.  The different translations usually mean the same, except the name “Emmet” is a bit out of place.  A lot of people say the Submas names in English are most likely to be puns of “Ingoing and Emitting”.  But my crazy self did more digging and found that Emmet means “truth” specifically universal truth.  This name goes back to old German, Irish, and even Hebrew. All looping back to Reshiram and themes of the game. (On a funny side note, Emmet is also the Cornish word for ant; so Emmet having a Durant is really funny. ) 

Next up is Nobori or Ingo who wears a black coat and appears frowning. Despite that , his is very encouraging and excited about moving forward. This makes sense since the name Nobori in Japanese more or less means to move up/forward ( specifically up a mountain).  That’s why a lot of people believe that the poor man was eebie deebied for the pun because Warden Ingo works on Mt. Coronet. In English, Ingo is thought to be a shortened version of “Ingoing” which also aligns with not only the Japanese name but the character’s reoccurring theme of progress, moving forward, and ideals. In this sense Ingo very much represents Zekrom and ideals. 

Truth and ideals, Reshiram and Zekrom, Tragedy and comedy, white and Black.  All very good interpretations and symbolism for two funny train men. I would be satisfied with just knowing that, but no; the Submas are also a funny gijinka of the New York Subway.  This is the part the has me laughing at how simple it is and yet we just easily accepted that they were just a bit strange.

Take a look at this. This is a Zebra Board.  

Yep, it’s black and white. And do you know what? This MTA sign only appears in the New York subway.  What does it do?  These are used by conductors to indicate safety and that the train has lined up in the station. Every time the subway comes into the station, the conductor has to physically point at this board/bar to indicate that it is safe for the doors to open. The action is called "point and call" or "point and acknowledge".  This practice is used in a few other train/subway stations (such as Japan), but the black and white board is New York specific. The pose of the submas suddenly makes a lot of sense.

Other Important notes observations.

The Submas face represents the front of the train.  So their eyes are the lights (hence Ingos glowing eyes in PLA), their side burns are cow catchers ( see graphic), and the Medalion on the hat is round like a train number plate.  Another interesting thing is that the Submas use airline Captain Pilot hats like Japanese train conductors use.  The only part of their outfit that confuses me is the arm bands.  This is more of a police uniform element and not a train conductor thing.

so to conclude, the Submas are basically a reference to in game themes, Reshiram/Zekrom, Trains, and literally the New York subway

I am not an expert. These are just my observations. I could be completely wrong.  Take and add what you would like to.  If you have more to add about the design, feel free to reblog that info. I would also like to see your interpretation.

[thejakeslayla]

╰─▸ ❝ distance ❞ - ,, park sunghoon

pairing bf!sunghoon x gn!reader ୨୧ genre fluff, slight angst? ୨୧ wc 1k ୨୧ req; prompt 24 (deciding on a list of Netflix shows they will only watch together); dialogue 41 (“you’re just the cutest.” “you’re the only one who is allowed to say that.”);

you settled in, making yourself cozy under the blankets, propping your head up with pillows, your phone now in your hands. the clock struck 10 pm, and you eagerly anticipated a call from sunghoon. it had been his second week on tour, and you were longing to see him again.

as you scrolled through twitter, you watched clips of your boyfriend from today's concert. after a while, you opened your clock app to check the time in sunghoon's current location. just as you were about to click on the city he was in, his name and a cute picture of him smiling popped up on your screen. you glanced at yourself in the preview and answered the call.

"hey, y/n!" he exclaimed loudly, his still-sweaty face appearing on your screen. you could hear the sounds of the rest of enhypen in the background, indicating he was still backstage.

"hi, hoonie. how was the concert?" you asked, secretly admiring his face. suddenly, his video paused, and you furrowed your eyebrows, feeling confused. it soon resumed, and you saw niki's face.

"y/n! i missed yo–" "hey, niki! give it back!"

you laughed at niki's face. "riki, give sunghoon his phone, please," you requested after a few seconds of the younger member dodging his hyung.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry about that," sunghoon said after getting his phone back. "he's hyperactive after concerts, he gets the zoomies, y'know," he explained, and you nodded.

"i've already changed, just waiting for the car," he added, moving the camera down to show himself sitting with sweatpants and an oversized hoodie.

"looking good, baby." you smiled at him.

fifteen minutes later, sunghoon arrived at the hotel and instantly flopped down on the bed. you were used to seeing him like this, not only after concerts in seoul but also during calls, that slowly became your routine. he always called you as soon as he could and stayed on the call until one of you fell asleep.

"before the concert, i saw this new movie trailer," he broke the silence, lifting his face from the pillows and now looking at you. "we should go see it."

"we also have to finish the other million movies we haven't watched," you replied. "at this point, a good list would be nice."

upon hearing your words, sunghoon gazed at something out of your view, deep in thought. "you know, that's not a bad idea? as soon as i'm back, we should have a movie marathon."

you placed your phone down, hearing sunghoon's muffled "hey!" as you grabbed a notebook. then you adjusted your phone so he could still see you and looked at him.

"give me some suggestions, and i'll note them down."

he began listing some movie titles you were familiar with and others that were new to you. when you heard one of them, you paused.

"no, absolutely not. we're not watching that," you protested, and he raised an eyebrow.

"what do you mean? it's a good movie," he argued, and you shook your head.

"hoonie, that was the most boring movie i've ever seen."

"it's just your bad taste," he teased. "okay, if you have better movie taste, enlighten us, y/n."

"okay," you began. "so, my first suggestion is 'yuri on ice.'" you looked at your phone, waiting for sunghoon's reaction.

"oh, you think you're sooo funny," he said in a monotone voice, which made you laugh.

you couldn't see it, but the corners of his lips curled up as he watched you genuinely laughing. it warmed his heart to be the one making you laugh like that.

"you're just the cutest when you're like that, you know?" you said after a minute or two of laughing.

"you're the only one allowed to say that," he replied, leaving you feeling flustered. you put your head down, hiding your face in the notebook you had been writing in.

"y/n," he whined, "let me see you."

"no, i'm a mess, and it's your fault," you said, pretending to be offended.

"i wish i was there to see you," he almost whispered, though your phone was on max volume. you lowered the notebook and looked at him.

"what did you say?" he noticed your face peeking at him, and now he was the one feeling flustered.

"i just wish i could be there with you. i miss seeing your face, feeling your body close to mine, i miss kissing you, watching those silly movies with you, holding your hand," he said after a few seconds of silence, as if he were mustering the courage to say it. "i miss you."

you couldn’t help but feel tears welling up in your eyes, you missed sunghoon as well, so much it was painful. he quickly noticed your tears.

"hey, love, please don't cry. we'll see each other soon, okay?" he reassured you.

you nodded, wiping away your tears, but it was pointless as even more escaped your eyes, slowly rolling down your cheeks.

"i miss you too, hoonie," you finally said, your voice breaking.

"my baby," he said, his voice soft, as if it was healing the fresh wounds in your heart. "you have to be strong, okay? just two more cities here in the us, and i'll be back home."

after a few minutes of sunghoon calming you down, saying sweet nothings, and repeating that he would be back soon, you finally stopped sobbing. you placed the notebook on your nightstand and lay down, your cheek pressed against the pillow.

your conversation about movies continued, but sunghoon soon noticed your responses getting shorter or you simply replying with a soft "mhm" in varying tones that matched the conversation.

"love, is your phone charging?" he asked.

"mhm."

"where's your little hoonie?" another question. you opened your eyes and searched for the penguin plushie sunghoon had given you as a gift for your first anniversary. you quickly grabbed it and held it in your arms. closing your eyes again, you heard sunghoon chuckle.

"good, good. go to sleep, okay, love? i'll be here. do you want me to keep talking?"

you answered with another hum. just hearing his voice relaxed you, and he knew that after multiple times of you falling asleep on the call as he spoke.

he continued to talk, but after a few minutes, his voice became muffled as you started falling asleep for good. when sunghoon noticed your slow and steady breathing, calm expression, and the fact that you didn't respond anymore, he sighed, a soft smile on his face. he took a screenshot of your relaxed face and settled down more comfortably.

"i can't wait to see you and fall asleep with you, baby. i love you so much. sleep well."

requests: open; prompt list © 2023 — all rights reserved to user thejakeslayla, please do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my work !

[1anxiousbeancrying]

I headcanon all of the Angels in hazbin hotel to have different wings and characteristics based on different birds. Like I have so many thoughts on the angels it's not even funny. I also have a few on halos.

Lucifer: I like the idea of all of the seraphim being the same type of bird being a dove but I like to imagine that Lucifers wings changed after he fell to duck wings even if they do not look like them they have the same shape and capabilities of them, as his wings seem much bigger than the other seraphim though I don't think we've seen sera or Emilys wings at full size. It's also why his wings are two different colors, he also absolutely quacks.

Emily and Sera: both have dove wings, they are seen as authority figures in heaven so there wings indicate there purity and elegance. Though I was thinking of giving them swan wings (I'm not sure yet), Emily also coos and vocalizes more than sera

Adam: he's heavens golden goose, he's loud and angry like one and I can image him honking. His wings are very large and beautiful, and I can see him being very possessive over his exorcists due to the first two lady's in his life leaving him. He absolutely makes the exorcists preen his wings.

Vaggie and lute: putting these two together because there the same species. All exorcists have falcon wings. The exorcists are heavens army they need to be fast and deadly. Compered to the other angels in heaven exorcists have very dark wings with lighter insides similar to the falcon. Never race an exorcist you will lose. Exorcists all preen each others wings as they are all part of the same flock, after vaggie was left in hell she greatly missed having someone preen her wings but after what lute did to her she absolutely hates people touching her wings. All exorcists use falcon calls to communicate with each other.

Winners: most winners have extremely small wings from what we saw in the show, I like to imagine the bigger the wings the more important the role of the winner is like St Peter's wings where very big compared to that of Molly's. The most common wings you would see in winners are pigeon, hummingbird, seagull and Robin.

Redeemed sinners: the only redeemed sinner so far is sir pentious and from the looks of it he doesn't have any wings, so I'm assuming that sinners don't get wings when they go to heaven.

Halo headcanons

Halos indicate your rank in heaven, the more spikes or accessories indicate more power, sera being the most powerful/influencal angel we've seen so far has an extremely large and beautiful Halo.

Next is Emily, but due to her having a lower status her Halo is smaller ( I also think the eye appearing when she's angry is cool)

Next would be Adam with his bright gold halo and single Spike, his is interesting because despite him technically being a winner his status as the first man boosts his power. His halo also has the power to communicate with all the other exorcists like we see lute do in the last episode when she picks it up.

Then we have the exorcists, their halos are completely black which is very interesting as all other angel species so far have bright halos, maybe it represents the violence their capable of? Idk they also have the same spike as Adam Maybe that's how he can communicate with them. My theory on the exorcists is that there heaven born so would rank higher that the winners it just makes more sense and it would be the opposite of the sinners where hell born are ranked under them.

Lastly would be the winners, sinners turned winners and the cherubs as the all have the same halo being a single ring. Everything in the show so far has indicated the winners being the weakest in heaven this could change but so far this is my ranking.

[r--kt]

Good boy Tobi. Why is he acting this way?

"oh yeah, it was just Zetsu" a-ha, not even close. here I'll talk specifically why Obito resorts to roleplay, and why he is comfortable with the images of Madara and Tobi. (obviously because it's not being himself but let's dig deeper)

contents | responsibility · regrets · a sense of control · conclusions

Vol. 31 CH. 280. Tobi's first appearance.

sure this looks like another defense mechanism that allows Obito to avoid reality, especially when interacting with people. full coverage, imitation of someone else's voice, name change, personality change etc. his clothes literally look like armor, and I'd like to think that hiding and protecting himself "just because it feels right" is exactly the point (no need in armor, he's intangible, so that's a psyche). the very way he completely depersonalizes himself shows that on a subconscious level he is not comfortable being in the conditions he finds himself. this alone may indicate that he is not very happy with his position of a faceless world saviour. and this is his first damn appearance.

Tobi is another manifestation of Obito's escapism, which is the central theme of his story. I have identified three advantages of using Tobi's image for Obito, and all of them will be described below. maybe you'll find some more, feel free to reblog and add your thoughts!

Responsibility

escapism is just stress-relieving. for him, the roleplay was a way to relieve tension from the responsibility that he had imposed on himself. "no one in the whole world can do it except me" must be really exhausting. so what if I just don't be myself for a while? what if I be the one who can make a mistake? it's important to be frivolous and let things go sometimes, otherwise the psyche will be disturbed even more. so, that's the first advantage, that allowed Obito not to go completely crazy.

Regrets

CH. 652

as I said, Obito is not very happy with his position. even though he believes that tsukuyomi plan is correct, this doesn't negate that he is unhappy to fulfill it and suffer the hardships because of it.

during the war, we can see that Obito really regrets that he hadn't live his life the way he could, with his friends and dear ones. he began to ask questions: "could I have a better life?" "who have I become?" "who does my friend see me as?" these feelings burst out only at the culmination, before that they were deeply suppressed, with the help of detachment from reality, which Obito achieved mostly thanks to the image of Tobi. a ridiculous stupid guy who talks nonsense and does not pretend to be any role other than a comic relief. another personality allows Obito to distract himself from the real problems, which he can't reconcile.

CH. 281 idk what an idiot. love him.

in order to avoid all these dangerous thoughts for as long as possible, he came to this escapist behavior. it is not only a convenient tool for manipulation (I'm not really touching on that in this post, though it's important too), but it also distracted him from all his regrets. though, it's funny that he still chose orange and purple colors that probably reminded him of the past.

A Sense of Control

it seems to me that this is the most important reason to pretend to be either an inept, complaisant fool or a legend of the Shinobi world. why these two extremes?

many events in Obito's life showed him that no matter how he acts, he will still be punished, which means he personally has no control over anything. during the exposition, he is late helping the old ladies, but Kakashi condemns him no matter what. during the first turning points, he commits morally correct actions in order to end up first being mutilated and isolated, and then lose the most precious (and only) thing he really had: friendship with Rin and Kakashi. in the end, he does not even have control over his own body until he learns to control the mokuton and gets used to the constantly breaking off or deforming limbs. Madara and Tobi appear as other personalities who are able to achieve control under certain conditions and give Obito the necessary mental stability.

CH. 460

Madara is the epitome of control. the ghost of the Uchiha clan, the fear of which is alive many years after his death. by taking on a character who has more control than Obito did in real life he might feel quite cathartic and empowering, and it offered him a sense of emotional security (the mask helps with it physically, the personality and famous name — mentally).

while Tobi, besides an attempt to make up for lost childhood, is a demonstration of "the lowest standards" so that for once in his life, he did feel that he always met expectations, that more was not required of him. he's incompetent, he messes up, he's irritating, and therefore others don't expect anything else from him. yes, Tobi is judged and punished, but Tobi is not trying to be praised, so his own expectations are not broken.

CH. 359

Madara's personality is convenient because it's dominant, it controls others, inspires them with a certain fear and submission. Tobi's personality is convenient because with its help Obito choose to show fear and submission himself whenever he wants, that is, it does not become an unexpected blow for him. I would add that similar mental mechanisms work in many types of traumatic experience (not talking about his sexual deviations like moderate sadomasochism yet, the man is clearly traumatized).

does it all work? obviously, yes. there's no point in explaining that this whole Madara thing worked perfectly. Tobi, although condemned by Deidara, is at the same time accepted and encouraged by him a bit, simply because it is pointless to expect anything from him. however, this works as long as the fictional personalities do not overlap, as long as others believe in the reality of both.

CH. 396

another interesting topic is that Obito himself began to mix these personalities and demonstrate the falsity of one, which deprived him of the very opportunity to avoid reality (Madara clearly reminds him more of the responsibility on his shoulders than Tobi) and relieve the constantly increasing stress. therefore, starting from the moment when "Madara" shows that "Tobi" was just a cover, Obito loses the advantages of Tobi's image, suppressed regrets gradually surface, stress accumulates, the sense of control disappears for lack of any new personality other than his own (which has problems with control). and all these consequences falls on him during the war.

Conclusions

the reasons for this defense strategy appeared in Obito due to his low self-esteem, which was facilitated by the following. the early death of Obito's parents was most likely at the age when he was too young, and therefore psychologically this loss was fixed as "I was left because something was wrong with me. I can't be loved naturally, I need to deserve it first". because of that there was a constant attempt to be better, to reach the level of a genius opponent, who not only shows with all his appearance that you are not enough, but also constantly pokes you in your own shit like a puppy. and that's not the only situation where you're not that good. there's a lot, actually.

such an environment forms an attitude "to get recognition, I need to try harder than anyone else, because something is wrong with me". subsequently, this attitude is transformed into a new one: "I cannot get recognition in any case, which means I will achieve recognition, respect, attention through pretending and forming other personalities". and that's how Tobi appeared.

I don't even know what to add at the end. it's just great that you can see the depth in Obito, even when he's acting like a moron. here's some admiration for this silly guy

[maplewozapi]

Hello! I have been following you for a while and first of all I want to say that your artstyle and character designs are stunning! You have a great sense of creativity and an eye for detail like I am always happy to see a new character of yours or their redesigns when they appear on my timeline (let's say that they make me really THINK about my own character designs and inspire me to always try and redesign them with more thought than before :D). I hope one day I will gather myself up and be able to commission you because I really wish to 😭

But my main question which had been in my mind for a while: You made a little post about explaining what Wojapi is a while back and I realized that it looks really similar to a food that my country (funny enough It's Czechia where we use the ž and š which you know but still I find it as a funny coincidence) has and specifically my smaller region where I live and we call it Žahour -> which is a not too sweet, not too sour, hot sauce made out of forest blueberries that is usually served either with pancakes or a HUGE puffy dumpling with no filling and usually no strong taste! I can tell you It's really good but I think you can imagine pretty well how it could taste like :D

I don't think they are in any way connected they just became their own things sepparated from eachother in each culture but still I think It's really nice and I wanted to thank you for kinda reminding me that Žahour exists since I haven't had it in a long time and I honestly miss it. That is all from me and I hope you have a nice day! ☀️

They you so much 🥺 that’s so touching, I love character design so much I’m so happy you enjoy it. idk if I talked about the orthography I used but it is Czech actually and I believe has the same rules. It’s a big controversy because it was made and owned but a “European, White, Czech, guy who has since copyrighted his orthography of the Lakota language. There’s many orthographies for Lakota it was never a written language I personally use the Czech one because of my dyslexia and it has indicators where the sounds are supposed to go, and I know people who worked on it. So the older orthography and more popular was “wojapi” and I used the Czech “wožapi” spelling not to come up in google searches for the food Wojapi lol. Boiling berries is definitely a universal dish, but I think žahour might be the closest to wojapi in texture and taste some of the pancakes even look like fry bread

[humbledragon669]

S2E1 - The Arrival Write Up P1 - Before the Beginning

Wow, it’s been a little while since I did one of these. So much of a while in fact, that I feel like I’ve forgotten how I like to do them. I went back and read over the previous ones I’ve done to try and get back into the swing of things, but I feel like I’m having a bit of an imposter syndrome going on (after all, who am I to tell people what they can so clearly see for themselves?), so please bear with me if this all feels a bit stilted to begin with. So, with that self-serving plea out of the way, let’s point out the obvious and immediate parallel between the opening of season two and its prequel:

There isn’t a banner for the first season to compare this with, but we all know that the storyline for the very first episode started “in the beginning”. The episode title was even named for the time period, although I think there was probably a bit more sub-text to that than just an indicator of a time frame. There’s another parallel to be had here too – this would appear to be the first time that Crowley (or whatever his angelic name was – I shall simply continue to call him Crowley for this section) and Aziraphale actually meet, mirroring the conversation on the wall of the Garden of Eden nicely, it being the first time they meet with Crawly in his demon form. Quick side note: the time period parallel makes me wonder if there will be something similar going on for season 3 – “after the beginning” perhaps? Or in a twist, maybe something about Crowley’s fall? Either would fit nicely with the running theme.

This will be the only time (notwithstanding whatever is to come in season 3) that we see Crowley in his existence prior to his fall, and therefore prior to his becoming a demon. The engine crank handle is a nice touch; it’s a lovely link to Crowley’s (much) later attachment to the Bentley, and to the use of the crank handle to restart time as we saw in the final episode of season 1. And it’s a nice thought – that the star factory is rather like an engine that needs a kickstart, even if that engine crank handle has no place in this time period, millions of years before cars ever became a thing. Quick side note on the engine crank handle thing: given that Aziraphale holds the diagram up in front of his chest, could it be that this is a subtle hint that Crowley doesn’t just kick the motor of the star factory into life, but Aziraphale’s heart too? It’s immediately after he does it that Aziraphale tries to introduce himself…

Can we just take a moment to appreciate this moment for what it is? A single moment, in millions of years, that Crowley needed a hand, happened to have another being passing by, recognised that there was someone around who could help, and had to yell to be heard because that being is nearly out of earshot. That single moment is the start of a slow burn that rivals all other slow burns. And they nearly missed it. It does make this beautifully innocent response from Aziraphale unbelievably sweet though:

Oh Aziraphale, you look so hopeful and inquisitive. You have NO IDEA of what’s to come, do you? And there’s such a lovely awkwardness between them in the conversation that follows – the cautious engagement from Aziraphale as he tries to work out what’s expected of him against Crowley’s almost blasé confidence that he knows exactly what he’s about. There’s something so childlike about them both – Aziraphale in his innocence and Crowley in his excitement – you really do feel that this is the start of something, that the potential is there for something bigger, just as it is with Crowley’s star factory.

Well, Aziraphale doesn’t waste any time trying to engage flirt mode, does he? This micro exchange makes me laugh so much, and it never gets any less funny. It’s such an obvious businesslike reply from Crowley to Aziraphale’s quite open and vulnerable introduction. And Crowley doesn’t even offer his own introduction back, though perhaps this is to do with maintaining the strange levels of secrecy surrounding Crowley’s angelic name. Look at how disappointed Aziraphale is when his curiosity and interest isn’t reciprocated though, it’s truly adorable.

His disappointment doesn’t stop him from given his new-found friend another once over though. Honestly, this is one very smitten angel from a very early point in their timeline together.

I had hoped that there might be the first suggestion of an Easter egg with the book that Crowley consults, but I’ve struggled to find one. I’ve deciphered the title of the book to be “Nebula 231, 080”, but I couldn’t find anything glaring in Strong’s concordance with the combination of numbers there, and the contents of the book itself flick through too quickly to make out anything other than indecipherable scribblings and some diagrams.

Despite the fact that Aziraphale’s first tentative advances were shut down so unceremoniously, his face gives away how he continues to feel about his new friend:

He looks almost proud, doesn’t he? As if he’s really proud of Crowley’s achievements, even though a) they’ve only just met and b) Crowley hasn’t actually got anything to show for his efforts just yet. Not until he says the magic words anyway:

I know I’m not the first one to pick up on this, but isn’t this line a little above Crowley’s pay grade? As I have mentioned before, my Christian knowledge is scant, but I’m fairly sure that’s God’s line. And what makes this particular line interesting is Aziraphale’s response to the creation of the nebula:

AZIRAPHALE: Ah. Good lord.

It’s not the first time we’ve heard Crowley referred to in this way either:

I know, any excuse to replicate that look from Aziraphale in 1792. Sue me. It’s pretty notable though, isn’t it, the repeated use of that particular exclamation in response to Crowley’s presence? I really want to think there’s something in this, after all we know that the words used in this show are never coincidental. I just can’t put the pieces together to come out with something believable because those three little snippets of information, when put together, would make it seem like Crowley is really God in disguise, which is nothing short of impossible. And before I forget and move on from the very obvious miracle Crowley performs (bringing his hand down instead of up as he does in his demon form), let’s just appreciate the return of the miracle noise we heard in the first season – this particular instance sounds like sleigh bells following that odd “full” noise I can only really describe as something we would usually associate with something really epic happening.

Aside from Crowley’s obvious physical and costume differences from his demon form, and the fact that his QE accent is more pronounced, we get to see Crowley genuinely excited in this scene.

Again with the adorable. And the childlike. Did I mention it’s adorable? And he’s so incredibly proud of what he’s achieved. Which will make it all the more heartbreaking when we see his upset that it’s all going to be destroyed in about 6000 years. But I’m getting ahead of myself (a tiny bit). Because we cannot move on without talking about the second bout of disappointment that Aziraphale has rendered to him in less than 2 minutes.

And what’s prompted this? Ah, that’s right, he thought Crowley was calling him “gorgeous”, only to realise that his new friend was actually referring to the nebula in front of them. You’d think the brush off from earlier would be enough to have reigned in his hopes a bit where this particular being is concerned, but it looks like he just can’t help himself (not that anyone would blame him). And here we see another interesting difference between angel-Crowley and demon-Crowley – he is uncomfortable about accepting credit for things that he hasn’t been fully responsible for. This is not the Reign of Terror or the Spanish Inquisition that he took full credit for despite not having anything to do with either – he barely takes the credit for work he has actually done, which Aziraphale is determined to give.

I feel like it’s a pretty obvious statement to make when I say that Aziraphale is actually making two, entirely separate, statements here. Because the first of them (“It’s very pretty”) isn’t actually directed at Crowley’s creation, is it? The second is, but it’s much more about Crowley’s involvement rather than the end product. For all we know, this is likely to be one of the only times in his existence that Crowley is actually given some heartfelt and deserved feedback for a job well done. No wonder he’s always on the hunt for more by claiming credit for stuff he hasn’t done. No, the first of those statements is about Crowley himself (gotta give him credit for his persistence), and that’s as plain as day to us the audience because actually Aziraphale doesn’t seem that bothered about the incredible light show unfolding right in front of his eyes. That gorgeous being floating alongside him on the other hand, he just can’t get enough of looking at him. It’s obvious he really enjoys Crowley’s enthusiastic energy, because he really doesn’t want to detract from it.

This. Delivery. My life, it gets me every single time. I feel like it’s a line I’ve delivered myself (along with those facial and hand gestures that help me feign interest) to my husband every time he tries to talk to me about a car engine. When I say it, the rough translation is “I really don’t care about what you’re saying because it’s totally pointless, but you enjoy it and I love you so I’ll humour you”. That about cover all the angles here? Poor Crowley is so excited about his project, he doesn’t even notice. His upset at being told that everything is going to be closed down in 6000 years though, that can’t be ignored.

This particular moment in the scene is an absolutely brilliant example of the way that the soundscape is used to underscore the acting in this show too – we had some very pretty celestial harmonies setting the tone for Crowley’s speech about baking stars, only to hear the music literally winding down as his excitement is so rudely deflated.

Once Crowley has acknowledged this pretty devastating piece of news, he’s quick to try and reason with Aziraphale as to why that particular plan shouldn’t go ahead. I have to say, he sounds quite reasonable to me, and he makes his point in very clearly. The important thing about his reasoning is that he’s starting to ask questions, to challenge God’s plan, which we all know is what got him into trouble in the first place. And I do so love the fact that Crowley has never heard of Earth before this conversation with Aziraphale, seeing as it’s a planet he will come to spend so much time on. Not that he’s that keen to admit his lack of knowledge to Aziraphale.

It’s the little nod before he, hesitatingly, admits he’s not heard of the blue/green planet that gives him away. But then Aziraphale seems so confident that it’s something that he should have heard of, I can understand why he’s uncomfortable admitting he hasn’t. It sounds as if Aziraphale has had a hand creating both Earth and “people”, which he’s almost as excited about as Crowley was of his nebula, so it’s probably a good job that the latter employs some tact here. The difference, when it comes to Crowley offering his feedback for the work that Aziraphale is involved in, is that the planet and the people appear to completely devalue all his hard work. His disbelief is obvious before Aziraphale has even finished giving his speech:

In typical Aziracrow fashion, we have one of them not listening to the other, and this time it’s Aziraphale that fails to pick up on the communication cues – look how delighted he is at the fact he just told Crowley that the beautiful nebula he’s created is nothing more than a pretty picture:

I suppose it’s nice to see, in a round about way, that their inability to truly hear one another isn’t something resulting from thousands of years in each other’s company, this being their first meeting. Unfortunately his delight only stokes Crowley’s indignation, causing him not only to ask more questions of the plan for creation but to openly refute God’s plans as being anything other than “idiocy”. Now, I agree with him (to my mind, it is genuinely ludicrous that an entire universe would be created for any other purpose than for beings to look at), but Aziraphale is very quick to set out his stall for the future from the very beginning – he is a company man after all.

AZIRAPHALE: I don’t think it’s our place to start suggesting that there should be a suggestion box.

It’s not long before Aziraphale starts to become really very uncomfortable with this conversation.

He is VERY worried about being overheard here, isn’t he? As well he should be I suppose. But what’s this little mini breakdown?

It looks an awful lot like a bit of a crisis of faith to me. In fairness, Crowley has made some pretty good points. What I’d give to know what’s going through Aziraphale’s mind at this point, and what I find very telling about the way he tries to resolve this situation is that the very last thing he does before trying to break the silence is to glance over at Crowley. It’s not difficult to see how depressed he is about this latest development, and Aziraphale, in a really sweet gesture, tries to pull him out of by giving him another (rather futile) compliment about the nebula. What’s interesting about this (to me anyway) is that this makes him the rescuer in this situation, with him trying to save Crowley, which is not the way it’s supposed to be, is it? What’s even more interesting is that he fails – fails to cheer Crowley up and fails to stop Crowley from getting into trouble. Maybe that’s the real reason why Crowley takes point on that moving into the current day…

You can see how pained Aziraphale is about Crowley’s general attitude, despite the fact they’ve only just met. He REALLY doesn’t want his new friend getting into trouble with the powers-that-be. But now it’s Crowley’s turn to miss his cue, and if Aziraphale’s anxiety wasn’t enough to tell you that he’s being far too blasé about his mood, the portentous bell that rings out in the soundtrack when he ask’s how much trouble he can get into for asking questions should tell you how right Aziraphale is to be concerned.

Alright we’ve got our final parallel for the scene – you all know what it is. It’s the wing shelter!

But before I go off into that, I just wanted to take a minute to appreciate Aziraphale’s look as the meteor shower (I have assumed that’s what it is) actually starts:

It’s really lovely – like he’s showing appreciation for one more beautiful thing created by his new friend. Right, moving on, I just want to take a quick look at what I said about the mirrored wing shelter in the first season:

Alright, now I have all the various bits of information brought together, let’s consider a few bits – not much, I know this has all been gone over with a fine-tooth comb before by other people. Firstly I want to point out that there is a difference between the two shelter scenes, which is that Crawly actually moves towards Aziraphale as it starts to rain on the wall. We do not see the same movement from Aziraphale with them both in Heaven. I find those couple of steps from Crawly potentially really interesting – it’s like he’s doing something that they have already been doing for a long time, with the unspoken knowledge that he’ll get what he needs without having to ask. What I also find interesting about both wing shelters is that, in the sheltering they leave themselves exposed to the thing they’re sheltering the other from. That doesn’t seem like too big of a deal when it comes to a bit of rain, but when it’s flaming rocks? I know they’re both full-blown angels at this point, presumably without human bodies, but that’s still gotta hurt surely? Which would mean that Crowley leaves himself exposed to damage in order to protect Aziraphale, despite the fact that the latter being didn’t ask for the shelter, and doesn’t even appear to notice it’s been given. So there’s another similarity between the two shelters – they weren’t actually asked for, but given, and without dissent. I don’t know if there’s a storyline reason for Crowley offering the wing shelter in season 2 – there has been some talk I’ve seen about it providing a link to the end of season 1 (because we see Aziraphale protecting Crawly/Crowley from water at the beginning and end of the season, and Crowley protecting Aziraphale from fire) and I do like that. Part of me wonders if there are much more basic reasons for the respective shelters – the script states that Crawly’s wings look rather worse for wear in the Garden of Eden, so they weren’t going to act as a very effective shelter. Similarly, Aziraphale doesn’t seem to appreciate that there’s any danger when the meteor shower takes place, probably because of his lack of knowledge about the whole environment, so Crowley could have done his own shelter out of pity. Ultimately I think there’s one thing we can definitely all agree on – the second wing shelter makes the first a lot more interesting.

Well, for someone who said they felt a bit rusty writing write ups, I really wittered on for that single scene, didn’t I? In fairness, I knew I would have a lot to say about it, it being the first scene for the season. Not sure I expected to go for 3K+ words though… That said, the end of this scene and the arrival of present day seems like a good place to wrap this part up (plus it will give me a nice little placard image to head the next part up with, you know how I love those!), so for now… Questions, comments, discussion: always welcome! Hope to see in the next one 😊

[dingodad]

Ok, so this has driven me crazy for the longest time. What the fuck happened to post retcon Japsersprite? The one we know is from pre retcon, since he was on John’s planet when he brought it into the void. Nothing was ever mentioned to happen to post retcon Jaspers, so where is he. I can’t believe Hussie forgot about him, he didn’t forget about the two Nannasprites. Did post retcon Jaspersprite just not exist? Maybe he died on LOWAS when Typheus blew it up, but there is no mention of that at all. I guess only Jade or the Nanna’s would know then, but nothing is ever said about it. Also is there a way to know if the Arquius that becomes lord English is the pre or post retcon version?

i'm gunna play good cop bad cop here cus there's an answer you don't want to hear and then there's a sort of interesting consolation prize answer at the end.

the answer you don't want to hear: it doesn't matter! :P i don't think this really needs explaining but the whole point of davepeta/jasprose's ultimate self spiels is that tying yourself in knots trying to figure out who's "pre-retcon" and who's "post-retcon" is, as they say, for the birds. john is john is john. hussie didn't "forget" that there are supposed to be two jaspersprites: while a story can occasionally get away with having two Daves or two Roses because Dave and Rose have interesting things to say to themselves, the fact that homestuck has even ONE character called jaspersprite simply strains the reader's ability to give a shit. there is the room nor the need for TWO jaspersprites, of all the damnedest things.

(there can be two nannasprites because two nannasprites are funny - but if there's one thing worse than creating the same CHARACTER twice, it's telling the same JOKE twice.)

the other answer is about sprites in particular. do you know why video game graphics used to be called "sprites"? i only thought to look this up just recently: it's because, like the fairies or spirits of folklore from which they get their name, they float above the background of the game world without interacting with it directly. this should form the basis for our understanding of homestuck's kernelsprite, as well, which borrows both from folklore and from computer programming. they are of course ghosts on a literal level, with spritely undead tails and the ability to pass through walls and physical barriers like they weren't there - but the way they interact with the story itself is similarly ethereal-and-or-ephemeral.

sprites appear at the whim of the heroes to serve a very particular purpose - which, you will notice, is exactly what davepeta says they're doing when they show up in hell - but then the moment that purpose is complete they might as well stop existing. dave- and jadesprite show up inexplicably on the battlefield as the reckoning begins: are they killing themselves now that their purposes are complete? where are all the lususprites, anyway; did they do the same thing? erisolsprite initially seems to indicate that he's going to fuck off and possibly explode like all the other sprites who hate themselves, but then just shows up again 200 pages later later at the convenience of the trickster arc. the same is true of all the sprites presumed-dead following the events of GAME OVER, who show up as-needed in the new timeline to form the next generation of redundant ghost freaks. this is simply how sprites operate. whether they're "alive" or "dead" at any given moment is the wrong way of looking at it - they're ghosts for goodness' sake!!

the fact that the story never tells us what happened to "that other jaspersprite" is supposed to make us think less about it, not more, because knowing where one of them is - the "ultimate" one, in fact - should be enough to put our minds at ease. but it also deliberately leaves the door open for another jaspersprite to show up if the story ever somehow, against all odds, finds a place to squeeze one in. which is again exactly what the plot point is currently doing with sprites like erisol, who for all intents and purposes was dead up until the moment page 666 started