#and when I post something it seems its being eaten away or not as many people are seeing it as they used to

[staggerinbeauty]

𝒐𝒐𝒄;; GUYS I NEED TO KNOW SOMETHING! I am very confused on something— so I have two rp blogs many of you or some of you may know its not a secret. But I follow the same people on both blogs practically. Yet I only will see their feed on ONE blog and not on the other. On my other one it looks like the person is entirely inactive when in reality they are not; and they are posting a LOT. and this used to not happen it began a few days ago that I took note of it. And around that time it feels people too has been seeing less of my things also. Is it- if you interact with someone you see their things and not the others? because I dont follow A LOT A LOT of people where feed should be eaten. Or where it should hide ALL ONE ONE person's entire blog unless I go out my way to search it. Is anyone else having this issue?

Cause Im seeing maybe five- six people's stuff on my dash and everyone else appears like they are on some hiatus not writing not reblogging nothing. but then I log out and go into my other blog and BAM they are posting and just posted a little bit ago. Whats that about?

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.1 gojo satoru sent you a message

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 1.3k (short one to start off, but the rest are longer)

a/n. welcome to this pilot chapter! this was originally going to be a one-shot but i got way too carried away and ended up planning out a whole series. i hope you enjoy!

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

|| 2:13AM Gojo Satoru has requested to follow you

You blink the sleepiness in your eyes away as the harsh light of your phone hits your face. Somewhere in the middle of the crazy dream you were having, you heard your phone incessantly pinging and eventually woke you up to make you realize you forgot to turn the ringer off before going to sleep. Among all the spam email, iCloud storage warnings, and news headliners, there was one notification in particular that had you wondering if you were still dreaming.

“Ugh…y/n, please, turn your phone off,” you heard your roommate Mina mumble in the twin sized bed at the other end of the room as she shuffled her pillow above her head so that it covered both of her ears. You glance out the window of your shared apartment, peering at the pale moonlight, before your tired and heavy eyes travel back to your phone and press on the Instagram notification.

Suspecting this was maybe some prank account, you clicked on the small icon in your inbox that took you to a profile page. Gojo Satoru, Senior at University of Tokyo, Business Major, D1 Soccer #10, SAE. 12k followers, 172 following, 38 posts. 

Still thinking you’re dreaming, you accept the follow request and watch as the number on his following increases by one, now 173. Your thumb swipes up on your phone as you take in the square images of his profile. Pictures of him and his friends recreating memes…food that he’s eaten recently…frequent vacation posts in exotic countries…and a whole lot of what seemed to be professionally taken soccer photos of him striking goals and hitting balls with his head in mid air. You have put a lot of effort into your own Instagram photos (despite your modest 464 followers), mostly posting compilation slideshows of your favorite film photos that you’ve taken recently, yet somehow his feed looks much more inviting than yours.

You turn onto your side and continue to look through his photos. 624 comments, 373 comments, 958 comments. Many were from his friends trying to embarrass him, and many others were from girls that probably wanted him to notice them. You noticed he only really replied to comments from his friends. 

You knew who he was, of course. Gojo Satoru was one of the most, if not the most, popular guys on your college campus. When you got to college, you thought the whole “social hierarchy” thing would be over but it still seemed like there were certain groups of people that almost everyone knew about, "elite" individuals who other students could only dream of associating with. At UTokyo, the fraternities and sororities practically owned the place so of course Gojo was well-known since he was a member of the school’s most iconic frat, SAE. Not to mention, the school adored its soccer team–undefeated since 2012–and Gojo Satoru was the most talented center forward the division has seen in years. 

But as for why he requested to follow you, a film major that doesn’t play any sports and isn’t even in a sorority, well you’re just not sure. 

It’s then when you get yet another notification. 

“Oh my god, y/n, turn it off!” Mina mumbles into her mattress. You click the side button to turn off the ringer. 

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru sent you a message 

Your heart starts to beat a bit faster as you quickly slide to your DMs page. You notice three unread conversations from a few of your friends, probably from when they decided to send you their entire explore page, and then you see a little (1) next to your message requests box. When you open it, you see his icon in your inbox. It’s a simple picture of him in his soccer jersey, his smile wide as one of his team members who was mostly cropped out of the photo seemed to be putting him in a headlock. You see the first few words of the message.

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru: Hey, sorry if this is weir…

You’re about to click on it when you stop yourself. It was really late at night and you didn’t know if you wanted to entertain a conversation with this man you knew literally nothing about (at least on a personal level) and weren’t even sure why he was messaging you in the first place. Plus, he would see that you’ve read it and so you would feel anxious to respond. But there was no way to see his full message unless you opened it. Even though you considered this to be weirdly intimate since it was a message sent at two in the morning, you figured that was probably normal for the likes of people like Gojo Satoru, who probably were out drinking and partying until five in the morning every night, regardless of any 8AM lectures or not. 

But unfortunately, curiosity always kills the cat (that’s the expression, right?) and so you click on his message. 

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru: Hey, sorry if this is weird…I don’t think we’ve ever met before, but my buddy’s really into your roommate, and he’s tried to invite her out to our frat’s house parties but he’s had no luck. Think you could convince her to come this weekend? You’re welcome to come too, of course

You blink in surprise before rolling your eyes, not entirely sure why you were expecting any different. Maybe Mina wasn’t budging on his friend’s advances because she wants to be asked out on an actual date, and not to some house party. But you figured frat guys wouldn’t really understand that. Besides, how did he know that you were her roommate? You’re just about to type a response when you see three little dots in the left side corner, indicating he was typing, and you hold your breath.

|| 2:27AM Gojo Satoru: Here are the details

And then he sends you a post from what looks like his fraternity’s Instagram page. There’s an address, a time, the name of the DJ and girls get in free bolded at the top. You realize you’ve never even been invited to a fraternity’s house party until this very moment. 

You briefly consider not responding to him and just setting your phone back down on your nightstand, rolling over, and falling asleep. But you find your fingers moving on their own to type.

|| 2:31AM You: you’re messaging me to help your friend get with my roommate?

There’s an uncomfortable two minutes where there’s no response from him and for some reason your anxiety is through the roof. You remember the countless times you’ve heard people describe Gojo Satoru in passing: there’s just something about him that demands your attention. 

His notification pops up at the top of the Instagram app when you were scrolling through reels to distract yourself and you accidentally clicked on it too fast. 

|| 2:33AM Gojo Satoru: Uh, yeah? 

You sigh as you ponder the proposition. You don’t even know for sure why Mina wasn’t really responding to his friend’s advances, maybe the guy was a creep or just not her type. And even if she was somewhat interested in him, she’s already refused to go to any of their frat’s house parties, so how would you be able to persuade her? 

You finally convince yourself you’ve had enough of Gojo’s messages for the night and you’ll choose whether or not you want to revisit the topic again in the morning, until another message flashes across your screen.

|| 2:38AM Gojo Satoru: What can I do to get you to convince her to come this weekend?

You bite down on your lip at his question, and an idea flashes through your mind.

|| 2:40AM You: i’ll find a way to convince her. my terms and conditions will come later

He responds in a second.

|| 2:40AM Gojo Satoru: Deal 

a/n. dude literally slid into your DMs lol. thank you for reading! i also post this story over on AO3, if you're more into that format, but i just wanted to start posting over here on tumblr too. hope to see you in the next one!

➸ take me to chapter two!

[moonastro]

pac

how your future spouse will act around you

left to right(top)-> 1,2

left to right(bottom)-> 3,4

°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes.

°Don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as i would entirely appreciate it).

PILE 1-

i definitely see them being more them around you, like they are going to be so comfortable around you that how they act around you differs from when they are around other people. I see them literally having no restrictions around you, they will not be afraid to show their true personality and humour. i feel like this will be so important to them because they might have been judged with the way that they acted or were judged by just being themselves by previous relationships or friendships, for you, they are thankful and can actually live freely.

They will definitely also learn so many things from you, for example i see you telling them something and them not understanding so they will bring that up because they want to know what you know. or they cannot stand not knowing what you mean because they fully want to understand you. yeah, they will love to get to know you on a deeper soulmate kinda way. they will love experiencing new surprises from you by simply learning new things about you, that will excite them.

i see them being the type of person who ask 'have you eaten yet?' or 'have you taken your vitamins today?'. your health will matter so much to them, seeing you unwell will physically hurt them. if you answer no to any of the questions they will automatically act upon them. they do care about your well-being however they might not be so cutesy about it because for them it is a serious matter. so they might act very serious about situations like that. but that's only because they care so much about you.

i feel like their character will develop while being with you. i feel like they might pick up on some habits or characteristics that you have. for example, if your habit consists of biting your bottom lip when nervous, they will acknowledge that and start to do that too.

your fs will NOT be afraid to express their raw feelings towards you. they will constantly praise and compliment you so much that you might get tired from hearing it loll����.

that is it for you PILE 1, hope you enjoyed that!!

PILE 2-

oh, they will be chaotic around you. they might tend to play fights, picking you up from the ground, teasing you etcc. however, i do think that playing around like that heals their inner child as such. they might also do questionable things that may shock you. like i see you two chilling and watching a movie and them randomly standing up and doing their skincare without mentioning anything.

they will constantly want to do everything with you, like their mindset is something like, if i have to see it you have to too, or if you go i want to go too. its mostly because they cant seem to imagine themselves being 5 minutes away from you 😂. no but for real, i honestly just feel like they find your time together precious and don't want to miss opportunities with you. they will be the type to take you on daily trips everywhere, like i mentioned before, they will love to spend time with you, especially while discovering new cute places.

i feel like same with pile 1, they will worry a lot about your health and constantly have to check up on you. like if sometimes you forget to eat breakfast or if they see a bruise that you didn't even know was there, they will freak out about it and will act like something major happened.

i see them being very honest around you, they will answer to your questions honestly and truthfully and i feel like if there are lies withing a relationship it is not sincere. i do see them being clingy though, like if they had a bad day and came back home they instantly hug and cuddle you to make them feel better. or if you are cleaning up they just come up to you and start hugging you.

that's everything for you PILE 2, hope you liked your reading!

PILE 3-

will have a stable view and way of doing things around you. will be humble and professional. i feel like they will be a very down to earth person who is quite traditional in terms of relationships. they are very loyal to your needs however, they may have a little routine that they do every morning or any other time of the day, for example may take out the trash in the early morning so you wont have to and let you sleep in or something like that. i feel like silent acts of service are their thing. they might not like to be in the spotlight and keep a rather low profile wherever they are.

might be quite nosey lol, may want to know what you are doing at what time. or may want to know what you are looking at on your phone and so on.

may express their love to you often, like you make them levitate when they look at you. but may be shy about it. like they'll only do it when they cant keep it in anymore then blush after they say it🥹. they are someone who would proudly admire you and talk sweetly about you to other people rather than directly to you.

may like to spoil you though, may take you out to dinner every week or book to go to a fancy restaurant once in a while. or whenever you show them something that you like, they remember and buy you the exact same thing without asking you about it. i feel like they would definitely tend to show their love for you by doing things for you rather than talking about it and so forth.

they might be afraid to disappoint you and are afraid to fail. but they are very good at easing tension, so whenever you feel stressed they know how to make you feel better.

yeah, i don't think they are good at communicating or may limit themselves due to the fear of letting you down. however, they might not take it lightly when you expose them on what they did wrong, they might not be into being tutored.

that is all for you PILE 3!!

PILE 4-

they tend to avoid direct confrontation. they definitely do not like conflict and will leave the situation if it gets heated. also, are very open to fix mistakes, they may ask about your opinion quite a lot and act upon your choices.

are very open to sharing their emotions and thoughts, they are not patient and may just say things that are on their mind. they may be an anxious human being and may seek help. they may like to talk about their mental health and ask your opinion of what to do about it to help. overall i think your opinion matters a lot to your fs!

they love sharing their ethic and moral beliefs to you. or they may be interested in getting to know about your beliefs. they also may be interested of your cultural background and may be eager to learn new languages and try different cultural foods. they may even like to listen to songs from other countries. they may also love to practise their traditions around you.

they may have difficulty concentrating and focusing so when they are told something they may be spaced out thinking about something else, you know?

they may also be the type of person who rejects offers easily, they may have social anxiety or anxiety in general so it may be difficult for them to leave the house. so that may start arguments between you two because you see the potential in them but they are just too afraid to persuade it and don't do anything about it.

that's it for you PILE 4!

I hope you all enjoyed this post❣️ please don't be shy to interact and share some of your thoughts on this post!!! thank you for reading💓

[fishnapple]

How to love yourself better? A request letter from yourself. (Channelled message)

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (Read this post : personal reading)

1. White

Dear myself,

If I could light a fire right now, I could, just to see if that fire can compete with my light, our light. And yet I got a feeling that fire will burn brighter than us, just because it had someone to start it. But ours didn't. We stowed our fire away, our light, for fear of burning the eyes of the world? Or for fear of being engulfed in the sea of darkness outside?

Have you ever seen a solar eclipse? People gathered to watch it, a brief moment of the sun being eaten. A brief moment. Imagine how the world would be if that brief moment turned into a very long moment, an eternal one? Panic, fear, despair. We have prolonged our solar eclipse for far too long, let the Sun has its shine. Does it sound arrogant when I talk of us as the Sun? No, you should get used to it. To be the light, the be seen. Even when the Sun seems like a solitary existence on the sky, it's not, so are we.

I wanted to tell you many beautiful words, give you praises and a pat on the head. Sounds embarrassing, right? We should learn to do that more often. And then practice it with other people too, we all need it sometimes, a lot of times.

Do you know what will happen when we turn the anger on ourselves? Somehow, it will ricochet inside us and finally shoot out at other people. It's painful, for us and for them. Let's hold it in our hands, watch it breathe and stroke it gently, find where does it hurt and tend to it, then poof- it's gone. You catch anger not by throwing it around and putting it in a cage but let it heal and fly away on its own.

I'm sure that sometimes you will find yourself drowning in life, in other people's water. Losing yourself could be your worst nightmare. But you will never lose me. It's odd how we're surrounded by people but feel like we are alone in our struggle. Where did all the people go? Are they also drowning like us? In a different sea? I hope that all the seas are connected to each other so we can all find others to swim with us.

Till the next sun rise, yourself.

2. Pink

Oh, how I want to just throw away everything and run barefoot on the sand. To lie face up, watching the clouds passing by for hours. To paint the wall bright pink and yellow (this combination might hurt your eyes if you stare too long, though). But we're not a kid anymore, or so people have told us, much like how we've told ourselves, convinced ourselves to behave.

It's fascinating to watch the process of our resistance to what is taught to us. Why do we resist it so much? It feels like being gravely offended. We have our principles, and now we have to listen to others telling us what is right? What is wrong? Let me tell you, in a small whisper, it's actually nice to listen. Just listening, not obeying. It will feel like swallowing a rock. Maybe we could learn from the chickens a little, metaphorically. They swallow small rocks to aid in healthy digestion. So let's swallow some of the hard lessons.

You always like to think in concrete fashion. You try to touch your thoughts with your own hands and knead them, mould them into whatever you want. And when you're dropped into a relationship with someone, you find yourself lost that ability. It's all a jumble mess. You find your hands reaching out, grasping for something. How about the other person? Are you afraid that you will lose yourself if you hold on to them? It's fine, you won't. It's just an outdated belief that you've held on for far too long.

As we were talking about swallowing, you may want to watch what you're swallowing into your stomach, literally. Watch what you eat! Don't make yourself, ourselves suffer by bringing unhealthy things into our body. We may want to live long, you know.

Hey, if you find a dance class is too embarrassing, how about we turn off the light and dance with each other in the middle of the night. Nobody will know, but we will feel good (I'm not trying to be a flirt with myself here)

Your best friend, love.

3. Red

Make me a cup of tea, please.

Let's have a chat, just us, lying around lazily, sipping our favourite tea, imagining some weird scenarios to entertain us, playing some puzzle.

I don't have much to tell you because we talk to each other every day and I know you always try to be better for us. I love you and I'm proud of you. Let's be vain and give ourselves applause every day. Make it a pinky promise.

A reminder when you're feeling sluggish and slow, we are going to exactly where we need to be. You are guided and protected.

Keep on shining and be the little kid that runs around in the rain.

I love it when you're running wild, letting yourself, me, free, splashing colours everywhere. I just want to grab other people's hands and drag them to the dance. I love it when you're laughing, loudly, even better when you jolted others around you, oh, their surprised look, priceless.

Just be sure to take care of your body. Don't over tasking them. Work hard, play hard, but rest hard also.

Have you been thinking about going on a trip somewhere? No? Then, allow me to make a gentle request. Let me put the idea in your head. Go on, go to wherever you're thinking, there might be a surprise waiting for us, *hint: it will make our heart flutter*.

Let's make it a ritual to go on a trip every year. Let's give our mind and spirit a makeover. Dust off any tangled mess we have and prepare a space for new things to come into. I'm so excited.

It's got me thinking lately, there's this small blinking light in the back of our mind, sometimes I can see it, sometimes I can't. I want to find out what it is. It's like a signal, trying to reach us, can you feel it? Sometimes, there's this odd feeling swelling inside that you can't put your hand on and naming it. I think if we can sit still, quiet, in the dark, we could see it better. It's guiding us. To where? I got a feeling that it's somewhere deep, somewhere with a treasure, waiting for us. If we can uncover it, it will be the greatest gift that the universe has ever given us. So let's go and find it.

Love, myself.

4. Green

I have some news for you. Brace yourself for changes. They're coming, very fast, very soon. Sit yourself tight. I don't want to give spoilers, but I guess we will receive some sudden confessions or offers. What you will do with those confessions is completely your choice. You don't have to feel guilty if you don't return their feelings, my dear.

I think the way the universe is sending us this kind of surprise is telling us to reconsider our 'single' thinking mode. We have stood alone, strong and independent for so long, I think it actually makes us a little too comfortable in being alone that the thought of getting into a connection with someone can be daunting. Will we lose our freedom? What if we are dependent on them? This time, the universe is saying: 'you and your worries will not make a good journey together, break up with those worries, here, I will throw in some opportunities for you to practice '.

If you don't want romantic connection at the moment, fine, different types of connections will come. No matter what, the universe is determined to get us involved with other people. It's for our own good. I have to admit that it's hard. It's not easy to change our way of thinking and believing. So surprises will be needed.

When opportunities come, the gate is opened, we just need to receive them. Walking through the gate will feel like walking out of a confinement into the wild, lively world outside. We will be propelled into a new path that we hadn't even considered in the past. Beware of what you said in the past about how you don't want to do something, you can't imagine yourself doing something. Well, guess what, we are going to do just that, joke on us.

So, in the meantime, even if you're resisting, it's fine. Just take care of yourself, of us. Obsessive worrying can sadden our body.

Something is going away, giving space to a new energy coming in. This new energy will be softer, more loving. The harshness of the past will go away soon. Trust me.

Love, Your companion.

[leighsartworks216]

I Come With Knives Pt13

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I'm depressed, have barely eaten all day, and haven't taken my nightly meds yet. All this to say: this is not proofread. (I will be eating and taking my meds right after I post this)

Warnings: references to slavery, discussions about fears, self-doubt, references to abuse/torture, references to blood/gore/viscera, hurt/comfort, light angst

Word Count: 1,635

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You probably wouldn’t have agreed if Karlach hadn’t jeered you on. Tensions were high, the Absolute was hanging over your heads like an executioner’s ax - what could it really hurt?

“Close your eyes, little ones. Be still as stone to earth. And remember to breathe.”

Fidgeting uncertainly, you do as she asks, but you reach over and take Astarion’s hand. He’s quick to hold on, and soon it feels like your world has been tilted on its axis.

When you open your eyes, your hand is empty, and you’re no longer at the circus. You seem to be standing somewhere in nature, but it feels… off, somehow. A manufactured illusion. A waterfall, split by rocks, spills into a river. The river creates a divide between you and Astarion, with only a thick log bridging the gap. If the tadpoles weren’t protecting Astarion, one slip and he’d be reduced to nothing. You didn’t like thinking about it.

To your right, the druid stood. “Ah. Glorious. Your bond is sweeter than nature’s dew. I see you. Know you. But do you know one another?”

You share a look with Astarion. Something silent is communicated with just that one glance - don’t tell her anything true. Karlach may have egged you into this, but telling a random stranger your deepest selves didn’t sit right with either of you.

“A tumultuous past haunts you both - the same story with different tellers. The heart is fraught, so let us begin with the joyous.” She looks at Astarion with her glowing eyes. He feels as though she is looking straight through him into the very core of his being. “Astarion, when is your lover happiest?”

Your heart thuds as he contemplates his answer. His eyes study you, a slight crease between his brow. It’s… difficult to allow yourself to be seen. You’ve shown him so much already, allowed him to witness the horrors you faced, but seeing was far different than speaking it aloud. This question wasn’t something so simple as What is their favorite color? It requires an answer that can only be formed through observation. And, gods, you had no idea how he saw you.

He offers a slight grin, though his brow remains tight. He must sense your worry. “Any time they’re with me, of course,” he said haughtily.

You chuckle slightly. It’s not a lie, and from the glimmer in his eye, he knows it. “It’s hard not to be.”

He steps forward on the log when the druid prompts him to. She turns to look at you. “Now I ask you: when is he happiest?”

If he wishes to play this game of half-truths, you’re happy to indulge him. He smiles when he catches that same look shining in your eye. “When he’s elbow deep in gore.”

He chuckled. “Guilty as charged,” he agreed, before leaning in conspiratorially. “Sometimes literally…”

You stepped onto the log. Even if it was an illusion, you worried for a moment about slipping and falling in.

“Your bond beats in pleasure. It is an honor to behold,” the druid waxes. “Many things delight the heart, but only one makes it sing. Tell me, what do they desire more than anything?”

A salacious grin tugs at his lips. You give him a pointed look. Whatever unholy thoughts crossed his mind are tempered, for now. “A glass of wine under the stars.”

“As long as it’s with you.”

He steps forward. Zethino poses the same question to you.

“Revenge.”

“Oh yes!” he exclaims, becoming giddy. “Yes, please.”

You step forward. You could touch him now if you wished, merely an arm’s length away.

“Our touch has been one of sunlight, but now we must ask the deep. The difficult. Fear sits in the soul of all - to tame it, we must name it. What do they fear most?”

He can see the answer in your eyes. Even just posing the question makes you uneasy. You frown, memories flickering within your irises. He wishes to reach out, touch your cheek, assure you he’s here. But something in the druid’s energy tells him he can’t. Instead, he does his best through his answer alone. “Gale’s cooking.”

It startles a laugh out of you, catapulting every horrible, real fear away in an instant. All you can do is nod as your giggles taper off. He takes a small step forward.

“Astarion - what is his deepest fear?”

With a new confidence, a new self-assurance, you grin as you say, “Breaking a nail.”

That, too, shocks a laugh out of him. He makes a show of checking his nails. “Well, when you look this good…”

You take your own small step forward, and you don’t hesitate to take his hand the moment you’re within reach. “Thank you,” you whisper. The words come spilling out before you can stop them, but you mean them so truly. Where he feared having his truth told to strangers, you feared giving your truth any voice. To speak your master’s name was as good as tying a noose ‘round your neck.

He leans his forehead against yours. “Of course, my love.”

The druid sighs, smiling brightly. “I press my finger to your bond and find a shield impenetrable. It is… beautiful. Your love is one few have - cherish it.”

-

The day is a staggering success, you think. Sure, you had to fight a few cultists, but the aura of contentment around everyone upon the return to camp was reward enough - a few cuts and scrapes weren’t going to dull that anytime soon.

But even as you go about your routine, lighting a new candle you got from a vendor and setting it in the metal pan, listening to Astarion scoff at a poorly thought out plan from a couple thieves he’d overheard, something uncertain clings to the back of your mind. You must not hide it as well as you think, because Astarion sighs and takes your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing your fingertips.

“What’s on your mind, dove?”

You sit down fully across from him, frowning as you watch him tenderly care for you. “I keep thinking about the druid,” you admit. “The love test.”

“Thank you again for not divulging everything. I trust you with that information, not a random carny.”

“That’s the problem, I think.” You meet his eyes and you look so utterly uncertain. You search for answers in him, trying to find them before you have to speak the questions aloud, but you come up empty. “She asked how well we knew each other, and- and I know it’s silly. I mean, we know each other well enough to skirt around the truth, but…”

He hums. “You’re worried we don’t really know each other as well as she thinks.”

You nod.

“Well, then, there’s only one thing for it. I don’t have a mystical waterfall, but I think we can make do.” He lowers your hand to his lap, and you subconsciously turn your hands over so you can play with his fingers. He smiles at the gesture. “When am I happiest?”

You study him. Your eyes flicker over his face, taking in every minute twitch, slowly but surely putting the truth together. “I don’t think you’ve been happy in a long time,” you whisper.

He grins, but it’s sad. His eyes betray it all. “I’m starting to learn how to,” he assures softly. “You haven’t been either, have you, love?”

You shake your head slightly. You couldn’t recall a time before your slavery where you were happy; all those memories lost to time and torture. But even now, out of arm’s reach from her, joy was fleeting. A moment here and there, stolen from time, but never consistent. “I am happy with you,” you add. “What do I desire most?”

He sighs. The answer is already one he’s familiar with. “Freedom.” He squeezes your hand, eyes sharpening with determination. “And we will be free. Soon, my dear. You can be sure of that.”

The difficult question, the druid was right about that. Neither of you wanted to ask, and neither of you really wanted to tell. But both of you stayed there, waiting for the shoe to drop.

“Your deepest fear,” you begin, quietly, “is forever feeling like a slave to someone else.”

“Is that yours, too?”

You tear your eyes away to watch as you lightly thumb at the blunt edges of his nails, trailing from one finger to the next. His nails were always so well kept and tidy despite the dirt and viscera that haunted your daily lives. “It used to be. Now…” You inhale shakily. “I’ve made so many wonderful friends. And I’m terrified to go back to- to her. But losing all this - losing you - scares me more than anything.”

He frowns. He can’t say you won’t lose them. This mission you’ve found yourselves on is dangerous; you risk your lives every single day. And once it ends, it’s a terrible truth that everyone will go their own separate ways.

What he can do is bring your hand back to his lips and press a kiss to your palm. He can close your fingers around it and get you to hold that symbol of his love safely. And maybe that’s all he needs to do. Really, what could he possibly say? Any assurance would be like rubbing salve on an arrow still embedded in your side.

And perhaps it’s enough, because you lean forward and wrap your arms around his waist, and he wraps his around your shoulders and back, pulling you close. He’s determined to find better answers to the questions, one day. You both will find consistent happiness, and desire something as simple as a good book. And you won’t be afraid of being alone again.

One day.

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @sylverqueencosplay @tototini @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive @thistrashisreadytobash @rosxtinted @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @the-lake-is-calling @nyxmainex @squid-killer

[tititilani]

Am I writing arguably my first thing in like two years for DBDA? Maybe. Do I even think it's any good? No. Do I particularly care? Also no.

This idea just wouldn't leave me alone so I banged it out in like three hours. Also fun fact, I wrote this partially by candelight because my power went out. Ambiance, anyone? I also posted this on my AO3 in case anyone wants to read this there instead. Just ignore any indiscrepancies in this, I just didn't care that much. <3

wash out the salt from my hands. 1.5 words.

Time moves differently than it does on Earth, as it turns out. Mostly pre-relationship Paineland.

He doesn’t think much of it, at first.

Charles is too caught up in relief, too relieved to have Edwin back where he can keep him safe again, to think about the weird phrasing.

“For decades.” Edwin says with a quiet hitch to his voice, more vulnerable than Charles can ever remember seeing him. He looks stripped down and vulnerable now, without the stiff bowtie and uniform that Charles is so used to seeing him in. Tear tracks mark his cheeks, cutting through the grime that seems to cover every inch of the hell pit they’ve found themselves in.

Their reunion is marred by the gruesome sounds of the last Edwin being devoured at the other end of the room and Charles can’t look too closely at the pile of corpses without getting enraged. He’s already angry at how long it took him to locate Edwin, how many times he had had to go through this loop before Charles could rescue him, but he knows where his priority lies now.

He wants nothing more than to clutch Edwin to him, stitch them together so closely that nothing could ever pry them apart again. He knows it’s not feasible (he’s checked) but he would stitch himself into Edwin’s ribcage without hesitation if it meant Edwin never had to come down to this place again. He also knows that now is not the ideal time for a big reunion, which can come after they are both safe.

“Well, I’m here now, so,” he says, pulling out a lit bomb from his bag and watching the flames glint in the depths of his best mate’s gaze.

“I have been dead for over a hundred and thirty years, after all, of course I should be the bait.”

Edwin’s tone is reasonable even if what he just said is not and he blinks when Charles levels him with a weird look because of it. Something in Charles lurches uncomfortably at the idea that Edwin should be bait for anything again, let alone a hungry beast that seems to specifically eat ectoplasm, and he’s immediately distracted away from it.

“Mate, you are not being bait. We can figure something else out that doesn’t end in you possibly being eaten.”

It’s been some months now since Charles gave a metaphorical finger to hell and rescued the other ghost but the idea of Edwin intentionally being put back in danger still scrapes over nerves that are far too raw. The Edwardian may look as though he is back to his normal posh self, all stiff bowties and perfectly parted hair but he has seen Edward flinch at enough dolls in enough windows to know he is not completely back to normal. Them managing to get Niko back was like slotting a missing puzzle piece back into Edwin’s frame but Charles still knew that there were pieces that could probably never be found.

Edwin frowns at him, fussing with his bowtie in a rare tell. “Per my books, this creatures likes older ghosts for its course – who else can we use?”

Charles thinks on the new and improved cricket bat tucked away in his bag. “I’ve been dead thirty years – should be enough to get the thing’s attention, yeah?”

“Absolutely not!”

(For once, Charles wins an argument.)

The witch is giving him the creeps.

One of her two eyes is bulging out far enough Charles is kind of worried it’s just going to...pop out. He’d try to catch Edwin’s eye but his nose is too far buried in one of the tomes the witch had given them to notice the way said witch is fixated on Charles. She seems to be mostly harmless at least, or at least hasn’t tried anything to make him reach for his bag but the way she is staring at him still has him on edge.

“Your bones are so old now but you are older still,” she tells him in a croaky old voice finally like it’s some sage wisdom and Charles just...has no idea what he’s supposed to do with that. Those books better be so worth it.

“Pretty sure my bones and I are the same age, ta,” he tells her in a voice he really hopes hides how completely bananas he thinks she is. He thinks she’s absolutely around the bend but is trying to play nice to make sure Edwin gets to play in her bookstore as long as he wants to. He’d be willing to deal with a lot worst things if it means he gets to enjoy the little sparkle that new books always put in Edwin’s green eyes.

The bulging eye bulges even more and he leans back in his seat a tad just in case there’s suddenly a splash zone. “Souls are aged by realms traveled,” she says in an even more grave tone while somehow making even less sense at the same time. He has no idea where Edwin has disappeared to in the books stacked precariously around the store but Charles hopes he surfaces soon.

Preferably before an eye falls into his lap or something.

It’s a dark night and Edwin’s head is in his lap.

There are no open cases at the moment, no one in the office, and an abandoned game of Cluedo is on the table. As ghosts, their sense of touch is almost completely nonexistent but Charles still swears that he can feel every strand of Edwin’s hair as he runs his fingers through it. He’s trying to be as gentle as he can be because Edwin deserves every scrap of gentleness Charles can give.

Edwin’s eyes are closed and that little wrinkle that is so common between his eyebrows has been smoothed away into unlined skin by Charles’ thumb. He can’t be super comfortable, his long legs draped over the other arm of the couch, but he also doesn’t seem inclined to move. Ghosts don’t have the ability to sleep or Charles would think Edwin had dozed off against his thigh.

They had been talking a little bit ago but that had faded off and for once, Charles didn’t feel the need to break the silence just yet. He has Edwin close and comfortable and safe and he finds he doesn’t need much else at this moment.

“I did not think I could have this,” Edwin murmurs finally, his tone soft and wondering. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, something Charles is momentarily grateful for. He knows that if Edwin looked up at him, moonlight in his emerald eyes, that there is nothing Charles wouldn’t do to give him anything. “A century in hell was almost worth it.”

Charles’ hand pauses. “A century?”

Maths was never his best subject in school but even he knows the difference between seventy years and a hundred years. The two of them are so tangled together on the couch that he can feel the moment tension returns to Edwin, tightening up his lanky frame and when he finally opens an eye to look up at him, he looks almost worried.

“I wasn’t sure at first,” he finally says, voice hushed in the darkness of their office. “But time moves differently in hell. This last time in Port Townsend was about a decade. My first...visit was closer to ninety, I think.”

Charles’ hand spasms at that, the only thing keeping him from clenching it is the fact he doesn’t want to even accidentally pull on Edwin’s hair, even if it wouldn’t be felt. Edwin deserves so much gentleness. The sheer magnitude of how much time he had spent down in hell, fruitlessly attempting to outrun its horror, would make Charles sick if he still had a stomach.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks finally when his urge to scream has faded. After another moment, he resumes petting Edwin and almost against his will, the other boy’s eyes slide closed.

“I did not want you to know how long I was down there,” Edwin says in a low voice. “I thought you might be angry.”

“Never,” Charles says fiercely, voice almost too loud in the quiet of their room. “I would never have left you down there, even if it had taken me a thousand years.” He swallows back everything else he wants to say, like the fact Edwin spent so much longer than even a few hours being tormented by a spider-doll demon makes Charles wish he had another doorway and a molotov cocktail or twelve.

I would tear hell apart for you. I will never let you be taken again. I love you.

He thinks it’s an okay time to say it but it lodges in his throat. Charles wants it to be a perfect time, not just an okay time. He didn’t need forever to figure out how he feels about Edwin but he has forever to make it just right. It is the least Edwin deserves.

He looks back down at Edwin to see he is already looking back and he was right – the moonlight in his eyes makes Charles want to give him anything, everything.

[vega-creates-things]

Muse (Part 1)

ROTTMNT Leo x GN/Rabbit Yokai!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Embarrassment, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis: You've been visiting Run Of The Mill Pizza maybe a little too often just to see the blue clad turtle of your affections and draw him. You're pretty sure he hasn't noticed you at all, bad news for you, he has and he is far too curious about why you watch him.

A/N: First things first, I am just getting back into writing so sorry if the pacing is off or theres any small inconsistencies! I'm definitely going to do my best going forward. If there's any spelling errors, just know I write from my phone primarily so its inevitable (sometimes I go through and re-edit after posting just to feel something). As well if any of the characters are written slightly out if character it's because I've never written any of them before so this is a learning curve. Also! I’m tagging this fic with the hashtag “#Tmnt Muse Fic” so if you’re looking for updates either check my blog directly or that tag :) ALSO, This is a repost from my old side blog since I wanted to make a main blog for this stuff. Anyway, I'm just here to have fun! So! With that being said, let's get going, shall we?:

♡♡♡ 

You had been calmly seated in a booth at Run of the Mill Pizza, glancing around occasionally and drawing the people that sat in the other booths. The thing was, however, you were waiting for your favourite muse who often came here with his three brothers.

Just the thought of the blue clad turtle set your heart a flutter, and when you finally saw him come into the restaurant with the other colour coded turtles, you couldn't help but sigh under your breath, staring dreamily in his direction. 

It took you a moment to get yourself under control and soon you found yourself eyeing the group as they chattered away with Señor Hueso on their way towards a booth in a further away corner than you would have liked, but nonetheless you were happy to have caught sight of them. 

Grabbing your trusty navy blue conte pencil, you angled yourself in your seat just right and began sketching the red eared slider who had long since won your heart even if you'd never actually interacted before beyond almost bumping into each other once a few months back. You were a simple rabbit yokai after all, and you couldn't help your feelings. 

You were careful and precise with your actions, eyes flicking up to your muse often as you drew him, absolutely losing yourself in the process.

The sketchbook you used was already chalk full of many studies of the turtle and each and every one of them seemed to be greatly improved from the last. 

Something you were grateful for in the few months of this was that he had never noticed what you were doing. You, after all, assumed it might make him uncomfortable that you drew him every time he happened to enter your line of sight.

Though, in a way, you were also disheartened by this news. A part of you- the part that wasn't afraid of his immediate rejection- longed for his eyes to fall on you. You imagined the gaze would be warm and friendly. 

Having lost yourself in the details of your sketches by adding some slight shading and rich red conte wherever necessary, you didn't notice that the slider had come over until it was too late and he was leaned forward on your table looking at you, with amusement. To your advantage, however, your sketchbook was perfectly just out of his view. 

Clearing his throat, the man watched you jump in surprise and slam the book against your chest so hard it nearly knocked the wind out of you. "So, are you just going to keep watching me every time I come in here, or are you actually gonna talk to me?" He asked, tone somewhat smug and amused. 

Eyes flitting between his face and the tabletop with your half eaten pizza, you began to fidget, swallowing thickly at the question. He had noticed?! Of course he noticed- you had never exactly been the most secretive while watching him- 

Waving his hand in front of your face as he noticed the way you'd seemingly frozen up, the slider cocked a brow bone. "Uh- hello? Did I lose you?" 

"You noticed?" You blurted the question out without a moment's thought, shoulders raised in a tense manner.  That had not been what you wanted to say to him, in fact, you had wanted to apologize for possibly making him uncomfortable all this time, and yet you couldn't get anything else out. 

Giving you a confused look, the turtle pieced together that you were stuck on that particular detail and chuckled. "I know, I'm so observant. Thank you, thank you!" He offered with a light chuckle, but soon added a more serious, "okay okay, when you have three brothers, at least one of them is going to point out when someone is staring at you constantly. I did notice it happening on my own at first though!" He rambled absently.

You groaned and tucked your face into your hands, hiding the steadily heating skin from his gaze. 

Deciding to take the chair directly across from you and spin it around so he could sit on it backwards and rest his arms on the back to use as a head rest, the turtle spoke up again, "so, you gonna explain why you stare so much? I mean, I know I'm hot, but I didn’t assume I was "the most distractingly hot guy in the room" hot." 

"I just- no reason." You blurted dumbly, barely peeking up at him through your long ears which had flopped into your face from the position you had ended up in, curled over yourself. 

"Sure... and that's why you hid that book of yours the moment you noticed me?" 

"Yes..?" 

"And Donnie calls me a bad liar." He snickered under his breath. "But for real, are you actually not going to show me?" 

Grimacing, you try and force yourself to relax. "Nope. You'd have to kill me and then deal with my spirit to be able to look." 

The bluntness of your delivery caused the slider to breakdown laughing, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. "I will see whatever it is some day." 

"Keep dreaming." You blurt, your mind already racing at the implication of him actively talking with you again.

"Ooo, I like that, the bunny has a bit of bite to them." He teases, standing up slowly. "I'm Leo, by the way, in case you were curious." 

You went to reply, still mildly surprised with the situation, but just as you manage to offer your name in reply, he's already walking back to his table and all you can do is stare at his carapace. "I'm... y/n-" 

You set the book back on the table, setting your conte pencils neatly on top of it, running over the conversation in your head over and over again. 

When you eventually get home you're still reeling, entirely unsure of what to do with yourself.

—

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

[ferociousconscience]

@wanderinghedgehog, I'm so sorry, I wanted to put this under this post of yours, but tumblr keeps eating it. Hey!! You are right!! I really loved your analysis, and I really hope it's not too unwelcome of me to expand on this myself, as it's something I quietly think about almost every day during my meditations on Javert's character, and don't have a lot of occasion to speak about! I feel as though the best, most overlooked part of Javert's character is this exact thing; His fall is set up in his introductory chapter. Javert is born to a wolf-- He domesticates himself using society and virtue as his sword, wielding it against the parts of himself that he hates-- Only to revert back into a wild, snarling animal when faced with Valjean. His own personal sense of duty and professional boundaries are ALWAYS being blasted specifically by the presence of Jean Valjean (no matter if that presence is real or imagined). It's not just in Javert Derailed, either!

In The Descent, it is present in the fact that he went against Madeleine's orders, which were to immediately free Fantine without punishing her. before those orders, he is a mere hunting dog, truly! He's not the one doing the killing of Fantine, that's the job of a prison. He's merely the one facilitating her death. As we see in the beginning of the scene, Javert is cold and unfeeling in the carrying out of his duty, but he experiences "the most violent emotions he had ever felt in his life" as soon as Madeleine enters the room and speaks on her behalf. Hugo points out that Javert going against a superior was here before an unthinkable action, but his extreme emotions about "What the mayor could be" in that moment blasted that wall away. Madeleine easily destroys something that was once an ingrained part of Javert-- Javert himself says it is the first time in his life that he would do such a thing, and that he was despairing to do it. Later, furious at being humiliated by the man he knows to be Valjean, he writes his letter of denunciation. In Javert, the book named after him (which I also think is significant, considering the books named after characters seem to be highlighting a character's most painful moment, moments at the cost of themselves, ala Eponine), he admits to Madeleine that he had denounced him as a convict out of what he himself initially thinks is a valid complaint, but is then (mistakenly) lead to believe that his fury was just out of personal beef towards a man that apparently had nothing to do with any of this besides Madeleine looking like him, simply resembling Valjean, and that he was not only willing, but demanding needily to destroy his own societal standing, his own career, his own life to make himself virtuous again, able to live with himself again. This is something that I go over so many times-- The Javert chapter is basically just a beta version of Derailed-- That off-screen "Earthquake" Javert goes through must have been so very similar to what he felt in Derailed. He is being forced to face his own abhorrent "mistakes", going against what he had been trained-- and for what? Valjean. The mere bothersome memory of Valjean had eaten away at his "virtue", and so, in a word, Javert must be erased to become "himself" again. In Aftershock, Javert is literally turned into a horrible demon because of his emotions towards Valjean. No longer the stoical and calm man that he was set up as, he turns into a sloppily-dressed animal, slurring his speech, barking out words, grinning and laughing like a madman, so filled with self-satisfaction over being right about Valjean and moreover catching Valjean that Fantine dies of fright. [Continued in a reblog, tumblr is cutting me off bc its too long lol]

[kivaember]

👀!! but also, 🎯?

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

Interestingly, not many people have made in depth guesses about major major plot points for APV! I am curious to hear people's theories though, if only to see if the foreshadowing I lay down it getting picked up...

Otherwise, on my P5 fic To Know Your Target, quite a few people correctly guessed major plot points, which I found really cool! I like it when people can sorta guess where the story is heading, bc it means I'm building it in a coherent kind of way. There's no better feeling for when you guess something will happen and it does!

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Oh man I have so many!!! Okay, I have one wip that's like two thirds done... it's a oneshot (a big one rip) that's post LoR. It follows 621 hunting amongst the wreckage of the Xylem for Walter's AC, mostly because he's kinda lost on what to do with himself and also bc he wants to give it a funeral. Rusty, still horribly injured from his fall fromthe Xylem, hijacks an RLF MT and follows him there...

The fic's most about discussing 621 and Rusty's different approaches to grief and moving on and the like... and hilariously, as I was writing it, 621 ended up being a lot more emotionally intelligent than Rusty was...

Have a snippet :) as a treat!

He rounded a collapsed pile of masonry and shattered glass, some sort of towering roof structure that had caved in on the deck below. STALKER was standing in the near distance on the very edge of the deck, staring at the slowly approaching supercell. 

Carefully, Rusty piloted his MT to stand beside STALKER, and directed his visual sensors towards the incoming storm. His wipers were going a little crazy now, frantically whipping back and forth to try and outpace the heavy downpour. Beside him, STALKER moved fractionally, its half-rusted joints creaking loudly. 

“...hey,” Rusty murmured. “Aren’t you tired, Raven?”

STALKER’s head angled towards him. 

«Aren’t you tired, Rusty?»

Rusty felt his mouth quirk into a smile. A response, even if it was a mocking (he assumed). He’d take it. “Yeah. I’m pretty exhausted, to be honest.” 

«…then why are you here.»

“Like I said, I came to get you. You’ve been out here for two days. Uncle was getting worried.”

Raven took his time in replying and Rusty patiently waited, ignoring the various aches and pains lancing through his body like razor sharp glass. It was fine. So long as he didn’t bust the stitches from his spleen repair surgery, he should be okay. 

«I’m fine.»

“Sure,” Rusty said. “Just like I’m fine.”

«I wasn’t in a coma for two days after breaking half my bones.»

no, you were just tortured for weeks on end instead, Rusty did not say with some effort. “You still need to eat, right? You’re augmented, but you’re still human.”

Raven didn’t seem to have a ready response for that, so he just didn’t say anything.

“...what’re you even out here for anyways?” Rusty asked, genuinely curious. The Xylem was a marvel of Institute tech, yeah, but most of it was completely ruined from its violent re-entry. Aside from getting blown up and ransacked by invading corporate and Liberation Front forces alike, the seawater filling up half the ship would’ve eaten away at most of the technology by now. 

«…I’m looking for something.» 

“Well… if you’re looking so hard for it, I guess it must be important…” Rusty said slowly. “Maybe I can help?”

«You’re injured and should be resting.»

“You’re injured too.” Rusty’s tone grew solemn. “I know what they do in those re-education camps, Raven.” 

«…»

“You’ve been flat out since you escaped,” Rusty said softly. “Uncle said you only swung by for a day at our base before running off again. If you don’t stop to rest, your body’s just going to give out on you. It’s a pointless way to go.” 

«…»

“Unless that’s what you want?” Rusty asked, and made sure his voice was dispassionately blunt when he added: “Are you just waiting to die?”

The question lingered between them like an ominous shroud. The supercell moved close enough that its thick cloud wall blocked out the sun, dousing them in deep, dark shadow. 

«…no.»

Raven paused, and STALKER kept shifting its weight back and forth, rusted joints screeching and groaning, the AC not built to spend so much time along the seashore, getting sprayed with saltwater and blasted with coastal gusts. It looked like a corpse just barely moving, skeletal, where chunks of its ablative armour had been stripped off from its own re-entry, and the inner hull torn from the tremendous forces it had been under (had never been designed to endure, but had endured anyways). 

There was even a gaping crack in the Core, a sliver where Rusty could peer past the protective armour and see a bit of the Core block that contained the pilot’s cockpit. Red-tinged rainwater was collecting in that crack, pouring out of it like a miniature stream.

«I don’t know what to do.»

It was unexpectedly honest. Vulnerable. Completely out of nowhere. 

“What do you mean?”  

«Before everything went wrong in Institute City, Handler Walter told me what to do. I knew what to expect with each day. I knew what my objectives were. Now, I know nothing. I’m a mercenary with no money or clients, and I have no idea how to get those things myself. I got my life back, like Walter wanted, but there’s nothing in it.»

STALKER’s head bowed. 

«…I have nothing.»

“That’s not true, Raven,” Rusty said gently, taken aback by Raven’s raw honesty, and cursing the awkwardness of having this talk while they were in two separate mechs. Raven was as expressionless as they came, but he could still gauge his human face better than just staring at the side of STALKER’s cracked Core. 

“After saving Rubicon, you’ve definitely got the Liberation Front on your side,” he continued. “And, for what it’s worth, I’ve got your back too. I know you won’t trust that, considering what happened before Institute City but, I mean it. I was-”

He drew in a slow breath, before admitting quietly: “I was wrong about you. You weren’t a threat to be eliminated, and I acted too hastily in my judgement of you. I’m sorry.”

«It’s fine. You weren’t exactly wrong. I was a threat.»

“...? What do you-”

A flash of scarlet lightning lit up the horizon, followed by a booming thunder that rattled Rusty’s very bones and briefly deafened him. He couldn’t help but wince. 

«I’m looking for Walter,» Raven said in an unexpected non-sequitur, forcibly dropping the last topic. «His corpse is on this ship somewhere.»

[anghraine]

For the ship ask game, Elizabeth/Darcy

Sadly, the long post that got eaten was my original response to this. It had a lot in it, but I'll do my best to remember it.

So! Elizabeth/Darcy is the queen of ships, the terror of the seas, the—yeah, I ship it.

1- What made you ship it?

I don't remember! I was only eleven. I think I considered Mary/Darcy briefly for some reason, but (properly) discarded it. I do remember that I really wanted Elizabeth/Darcy to happen from quite early (I thought Wickham was obviously lying), and partly because of that and partly because of missing things on my first read, I was genuinely surprised that Elizabeth refused him! I thought she'd accept because of her family's situation etc, and then they'd have to deal with their conflicts in marriage.

(This isn't an unusual fic plot, and I myself wrote a fic that was meant to lead to Elizabeth and Darcy having to deal with their issues as a married couple—though I never got to the marriage part—so maybe not quite as batshit as it seems in retrospect, lol.)

2- What are your favorite things about this ship?

There's a lot that I love, obviously. I love the youthful energy of their dynamic, even when it leads to mistakes. They really feel like peers. I love the sense of balance between them. It doesn't rely on everything about their thoughts, feelings, and actions being individually equivalent or even always similar, yet these individual things add up to put them on a par intellectually and morally in a way that is actually pretty unusual for Austen.

I love that they're both clever and truly ethical with a bit of an edge that makes both of them impressive, and both of them very compelling characters in general and together. Yet when they fall in love with each other, they're both rather silly about it.

Despite being borderline ace (and lesbian!) myself, I also enjoy the sexual charge between them. I think that, despite the restraint of Austen's style, it's pretty glaring, especially in the last third or so of the book.

Oh, and I love something that I don't always with other ships. They end up with pretty much everything they could conceivably want out of life, we're assured of their eternal gratitude for their marriage (this is the final line, in fact), they get ... it all. It's not all that common for me to encounter a ship treated so generously by its author, without it feeling forced or saccharine.

But it doesn't feel that way at all (for me). I think there's a reason that it's such a juggernaut in the fandom and people are often so ??? about alternate pairings. You can feel the favor of the narrative itself for them, the way it's so fundamental to the fabric of the narrative that nearly everything in it serves to further the Elizabeth/Darcy plot in some way, yet in a way that makes the novel feel rich and engaging rather than shallow. And at the same time, they have it all! They're smart and hot and good and in love and happy and will never have to worry about money or anything worse than minor inconveniences from extended family, they're going to continue to grow as people, they're—it's so nice and so satisfying in a way that's actually really hard to execute well and it's done so well here.

3- Is there an unpopular opinion you have on this ship?

Many, lol. Despite their immense popularity, I think in some ways that the ship is kind of a victim of it, because there are these inescapable pop culture osmosis ideas of them that just strike me as either reductive or simply wrong. I don't think Darcy is a brooding sexy alpha male romance hero or that Elizabeth is a feisty individualist woman ahead of her time.

I think they're both very much of their time, actually! Darcy is not old-fashioned for the time and Elizabeth is not ahistorically unique. In fact, I would like to see depictions leaning into them as products of their time rather than away (I know of a few, but it's not common in the way I'm thinking, esp given my preference for the 1790s setting).

[fabdante]

Related to a post I just reblogged (can I send you a link in an ask, or will Tumblr eat the ask if I do that?), but Dante and/or Kat with plant powers would be cool, too. Especially if Dante gets his plant powers from his mom's side, since the Angel barriers in the game already look like vines, and the first Angel weapon you get, Osiris, is a scythe.

I also kinda like the idea of Dante occasionally working as a psychopomp, just because things have gotta be kinda fucked after Mundus died, right? I'm not really sure if I remember exactly what Mundus did with human souls, but it was mentioned in Mission 17/Furnace of Souls, right? I think that's the main thing I'm thinking of. Help? Is it explained more in extra/side content?

Anyway, Dante helping lost souls/ghosts pass on would be Neat, especially since, at least in the original DMC continuity, ghosts exist, and can even interact with the living to carry out their unfinished business. I'm not sure if ghosts would exist in the reboot universe, but I mean, maybe?

Seeing Dante freeing more souls like the ones trapped in Bob's prison or Mundus' tower would be cool too. It's not really clear if those people are still ALIVE- Bob, at least, tells his prisoners that "suicide is impossible", and there's those weird, screaming trains that run through Bob's prison, and its never explained wtf is up with THOSE, but it looks bad, and it's Bob's prison, so something's gotta be fucky there- but if so, they probably need some help. Or, well, a LOT of help, but it'd be good to see Dante do whatever he could to help them.

Same for Dante working with Kat and Phineas to help stop places like St. Lamia's Orphanage from running. The most they could probably legally get away with is killing any demons that run the place cruelly, but at least it'd be SOMETHING.

I'm not sure if links cause asks to get eaten but I checked your account and found the post in question! I suppose also I just never thought of plant powers as something relegated to like softer, healing uses before either asdfghj i feel like all plant based characters I know of tend to use their plant powers fairly aggressively so I just sort of saw that as the default.

But, anyway, the connection between Eva and possible plant powers is cool I think (especially with the Osiris, scythe connection)!! Though I'm not sure if it's a powerset I think fits Dante, even when used more aggressively. I would love plant powers Kat though, it feels fitting to her particularly in the duel use of plants as both something soft and healing but also dangerous and deadly. It feels fitting to her. I could see this as something Eva might have been able to do to, especially given her blue roses she seems to somehow be able to grow despite them not being real. I think it makes a lot of sense for Eva and it'd be interesting to see her sharing that ability with her sons.

The game is very vague about what Mundus did with the souls. There's an implication that the souls torment is some sort of power source for the demons but it's not really elaborated upon. I'm assuming that no one found it particularly relevant to clarify which I guess is fair, it doesn't really come up all that much.

We also don't really know the status of the human souls in the game but I figured they were all dead at this point. As for Bobs prison I think there's probably a mix of the dead and the living and those kind of in between though we cannot forget also that he has demons and other supernatural beings in there as well, who likely are not dead at all who he can easily be referring to. I imagine trying to bring some piece to the dead would be something Dante and the post game gang would be interested in, though it's probably a daunting task given how many there are.

Also the trains I always assumed were a hold over from an earlier level design. The devs talk a lot about how they really, really wanted a train fight scene for the bulk of the games development but it either got too complicated or constraints got in the way so they had to get rid of it during development. I always figured the subways in Bobs mission were just a holdover from that plan or a sort of consolation prize for the effort that went into the non existent train boss fight asdfghjk so they got to keep their train, even if it didn't get used as intended. if it has larger implications to the lore that's possible, but the part of Bob's prison its in is modeled after a subway hub so I think it's just to tie into those visuals from the real world location Bob's prison is mimicking in Limbo. All of this is to say I'm not sure if the trains are exactly carrying anything as much as they are mimicking their real world counterparts (the real world metro system of Limbo City)

I also just kind of figured the orphanages like St. Lamias just sort of fell apart when Limbo collapsed into the real world. With their staff revealed to be demons, I'm not sure if they'd be allowed to continue operating. I'm also not sure how much Kat, Dante, or Phineas would care about keeping up with legality when it came to dismantling that kind of thing seeing as Kat was willing to join the Order to dismantle the system which abused her and nothing the Order did was particularly legal. I can see this however being something that'd be on Kat's radar, given it's a major motivator for her this whole time. The issue though now I think would turn a lot to the systemic issues within the American foster care system which is a far bigger fish to fry then demons unfortunately.

Which is all to say I do think the systems that hurt them would be on Kat and Dantes radar but that'd definitely be a tricky one to deal with in the midsts of Limbo City's mayhem.

[toughtink]

a long time ago i made a guide to keys in Gideon the Ninth. i said i’d do some more Locked Tomb notes in the future, so i’m back to do that! these posts are pretty much my personal notes taken during my last reread, perfectly prone to errors, so feel free to add on if you spot any inconsistencies. also, the citations are specifically for the american paperback versions of the books. and i haven’t put much from nona in this list yet; mostly this one focuses on Harrow the Ninth info.

The River Sections in The Locked Tomb Series:

The Riverbank—seems to have many of the things you’d find on an actual real-world beach: silvery sand, dried wood, colored stones, long feathery plant stems and willow-like branches washed up on the shore, salt wind.

Epirhoic—Uppermost, near the banks. Where the lyctors plan to fight RB 7. Where folks always hope their ghost travels (“may your spirit travel high on the River” or smth), where Abigail assumes Isaac and Jeannemary’s spirits will travel given their youth and goodness ( “[They] never did anything wrong other than the time they tried to pierce each other’s tongues, should have travelled lightly through those waters.” —Abigail, htn 397).

Mesorhoic—middle, i guess. some ghosts.

Bathyrhoic—where the swiftest fight against a RB (8) took place. much fewer ghosts.

Barathron—very few ghosts sink this low. Jod says if he believed in sin, he’d say they died weighted down with sin, placing them nearer the trash space. deeper portions have pressure similar to water pressure in deep ocean (htn 494), but they never figured out what the River’s made of. Apparently there’s also rocks down here??? Because the Mithraeum gets caught on some rock face when dropped into the River (htn 496).

Stoma—Super hell? Opens & closes. Ferocious gravitational pull. Mouth to Hell. “A genuinely chaotic space—chaos in the meaning of the abyss as well as unfathomable…located at the bottom of the River. The Riverbed is studded with mouths that open at proximity of Resurrection Beasts, and no ghosts venture deeper than the bathyrhoic layer. Anyone who has entered the stoma has never returned. It is a portal to the place I cannot touch” (Jod, htn 240). Jod’s rubbish bin 🗑️. When a hole opens, it’s enormous with huge human teeth at the edges, each tooth “six bodies high and two bodies wide.” Gideon also describes it as “an eaten-away tunnel of reality.” (htn 495) Also, thousands of tentacle-y tongues come out (htn 496). Stoma is Greek for mouth, and though medically it normally refers to a hole in the abdomen used to expel waste, if we think of it as a mouth (which like, teeth + tongues sounds pretty mouthy), it could be compared to the mouth of a river, aka where it meets the ocean. Is “The Beyond” (in the next section) that ocean?

The River Beyond—what lies beyond, believed in thousands of years ago, but pooh-poohed now, and researched/believed in by Abigail Pent (htn 397), aka where spirits are attempting to cross to without being dragged to the depths of the River or going insane. Abigail believes there is a whole school of necromancy still undiscovered because of a lack of studying The Beyond (my capitals, not hers) and that something has gone terribly wrong in the River.—Personally, it feels like the system has been gummed up by necromancy, souls coming and going and causing problems when they really should have been going in one direction. Alecto asks Jod where he put all the children in ntn, so maybe normally those souls go directly back to their planets/nearest cosmic bodies? But killing the planets has made that impossible so now they’re stuck in a subspace Purgatory occasionally getting sucked into Hell ala The Good Place where OOPS! No one’s been able to get to Heaven for 10k years!

some miscellaneous thoughts about the river:

perhaps the river was never meant to exist at all? could the destruction of the solar system have created it? and what’s with its use as subspace travel? it’s plot convenient, sure, but is that a feature that can be expanded to all souls, living and dead? or is it the spiritual dimension being sucked into some kinda worm hole that was already in space or something? idk, it’s very weird as you can be there spiritually but not physically or you can be there physically too as evidenced by the very physical kinds of rocks and stuff as well as whole space ships getting dropped in. it’s certainly a fun take on the river styx, and i do think we’ll be going beyond the stoma in alecto. maybe it’ll really lean in to the greek mythology connection this time and we’ll get a bit of an orpheus and eurydice moment with a certain saddest girl in the world going in to rescue a certain goth nunlet?

[contaminatedlamb]

Paint ペイント -[tmnt2012] Leonardo x Fem!Reader

summary: To your limited knowledge, something is going on in the midst of New York City. From the Bronx, all the way down to Brooklyn, creatures are emerging from the woodworks to ease their claws into the lives of every inhabitant. From a sous chef who dreams of refining her artistic skills, an androgynous woman with a dark past and a violent soul, to a once lively mutant teenager who's grief has morphed him into a shell of his former self. Together, with the help of their friends, family members, and wary allies— the truth will be revealed. No matter what the cost. Who knew that it would all start with a bit of paint?

notes: posting my first ever fanfiction on tumblr! I hope you enjoy, this is a passion project of mine that I have been working on since 2019. Show some love if you can, and let me know what you think of it! This book is also cross posted on Ao3 and Wattpad. Currently being rewritten as we speak.

warnings: gore and blood.

(Accidentally added a poll and can’t remove it from my draft so here we are lol)

Chapter One - Nothing to see here, folks! Everything is Fine.

You woke up that morning dreading to take out the trash.

It was Friday, that dreaded day of the week. While many celebrated it as the last day before the relief of a weekend, it happened to be only miserable for you. It was the busiest day in Murakami's Japanese restaurant, with all the drunk college men stumbling into the little hole in the wall to harass the three employees, and its blind owner/head chef. They made a mess, per usual, figuring out how to break down the token driven vending machine, demolish the bathrooms, leave their tables in chaotic disarray; all while somehow leaving drunker than before... If that was even possible. You were convinced that it had to do with those 'water bottles' they carried, which you were sure were just filled to the brim with vodka. There were times, when you were busy moping up a spilt drink, dizzy from their boisterous noise and the fumes, that you hoped they choked on their 'water'.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the only reason that you dreaded going to work. Every Friday was also the day where the garbage had reached unfathomable levels of toxicity and needed to be tossed into the dumpster for the workers to take it away the next morning. How was it that the small portion of the human race that came to the restaurant seemed to make the biggest, most disgusting mess possible? New York. Disgusting down to its very own garbage.

Black trash bags would pile up by the pounds against the back door, so much so that it may have become a safety concern and an entire health violation if you thought about it for too long. You were certain that some sort of mutant would sprout from the bags and squeak a pleasant hello~ towards your horrified face. And yet, that wouldn't even be the strangest thing you had seen happen during your almost two years living in Manhattan. You wished you were joking when you told the story about how you had once seen a grown man with a glorious beard dressed as a nun take on a costumed Elmo, who looked as if he discovered cocaine with those tech bros that cluttered the streets of the city. Only in Times Square at eleven at night did something like that happen— and it hadn't even been Halloween! The absurdity of it all meant that you couldn't help but begrudgingly be amused by the chaotic energy of New York City.

Now though, as you stood slouched over, your lower back pressed against the beige wall lined with awards and old pictures of simpler times, you glared with a burning ferocity at the trash bags. The trash bags which always seemed to come up with new scents and would send you to the bathroom to heave up the few crackers you had eaten for dinner. Those black plastic trash voids which oozed and dripped with weird discolored sludge that made the bags stick to the ground when you dragged them through the back door, leaving behind horrible slime trails in their path. Only once before in your life had you accomplished a feat of strength, and that was when you had jumped up from your chair to do one 'pull up' in P.E. at seven years old. You had been extremely proud of that loophole, and it was one of your most cherished memories, depressingly enough. That made this attempt of physical strength all the more difficult, in the end.

At this moment, glaring at the trash as if it had insulted your entire family, you were finally snapped out of the inner roasting that you had directed to the garbage— by being unceremoniously slapped in the face with a pair of neon latex gloves. You sighed loudly, closing your eyes to collect yourself before you, to put it in modern terms, cut a hoe. You bent over and snatched up the pair of yellow gloves with more rage than expected. Straightening, you met the grin of your friend, none other than Sukiyaki Ashika; the source of your constant suffering.

The young adult of Japanese and Pakistani descent leaned in the doorway which led to the kitchen, dark arms crossed over her flat chest, that same cheeky grin that she used against those teenage delivery boys plastered across her Asian based features. It was a weapon, paired with her psychedelic slanted red brown eyes, the sort you saw on vampire men in those terrible low budget movies. These weren't any different. They were real, and they were lovely. It felt at times that she would hypnotize you with her stare, so powerful were they. There were times where you couldn't hold her gaze, having to lose the staring contest by dropping your gaze to the ground.

"Make sure you put on them gloves, by the way." The teenager reminded you, tossing her Wolf cut bangs to the side, the back of her straight black hair cropped short. The bangs were wispy, perfect, flowing in the wind as if she were in a shampoo commercial. It was comical, and you wanted to stab it.

"Yeah— I remember what happened when you didn't wear them that one time." You snorted with a lopsided smile as you slid them both on, the latex snapping loudly against your skin as you raised your eyebrows. "How's your hands by the way?" You questioned, a grin growing across your face.

Yaki made a noise of annoyance as she looked over at the hallway between the kitchen and the main restaurant area, sniffing in distaste. "Its not my fault that the stuff in there stained my hands yellow." She grumbled, looking down at her hands with their splotches of light neon yellow blemished along her pecan brown palms.

"It's literally toxic." You noted, as you wrapped your hands around the tied knots of the black garbage bags, inhaling deeply as you attempted to lift them up. All that was obtained from that movement was a sore back and almost dislocating your wrists. You let out a groan through your clenched teeth, your shoulders shakily sagging.

Sukiyaki guffawed loudly, a grin growing on her lips as she curled a finger around a strand of her coarse hair to play with it. "Awe, babaaa." Cooed the woman, tilting her head to press against the doorway.

"Don't 'awe baba' me." You huffed back like the annoyed teenager you were, glaring at the bags filled with garbage that resembled you, kicking at the receptacle. "You're enjoying this." You huffed, dropping the bags, placing your gloved hands on your hips as you shot the bags another dirty look.

Yaki gave a half shrug coupled with her signature smile as she continued to watch in amusement at the train wreck starting before her. "Put 'cha back into it!" She called as you began to slowly roll each large trash bag across the linoleum floor and through the backdoor. You managed to shoot her a scowl over your shoulder as you began your process of piling all the bags outside the door. Finishing up, you pulled back one of the bags holding the backdoor open, allowing the heavy wooden door to fall shut against its doorway.

You listened for a moment as Yaki faintly sang All Star to herself through the closed door, as you began the long process of figuring out how exactly you were going to drag each humongous bag into the six feet tall dumpster bin. Your arms already shook with the effort, your tendons stretched out against your skin, as you tried your best not to fall over. You would've loved Sukiyaki to help you, or take over even, but you knew it was your turn. If you ended up asking, you knew what would follow. The teasing, the pokes in your sides, ruffling up your hair before she would finally submit and get the job done. Effortlessly tossing in the bags as if she were playing basketball, not a bead of sweat to be found, her hair perfect as always. It was annoying how perfect she was, and this time, you decided that you would put the garbage in its place without submitting yourself to the mortifying experience of asking Suki to help. At least you could try to hold onto a silver of dignity left in your body.

After loud fits of swearing, prayers to God, squealing as the bulging bag teetered back from the edge of the metal container and almost crushed you (if you hadn't ran off before it crashed to the floor) and, embarrassingly enough, a bit of frustrated tears being shed, you managed to shove a bag into the dumpster. Placing each on the edge and shoving them all inside with a loud grunt, you found yourself finding a rhythm. It did little to cheer you up as you felt the muscles in your arms beginning to complain. You were definitely going to blackmail Yaki into buying you some ice cream after your shift was finished— after all, it was the most your roommate could do to soften your pain.

"This is supposed to be your job." You grumbled to no one in particular, feeling the bead of sweat tickle the side of your temple as it slid. You dragged the last trash bag towards the dumpster bin, loudly (and explicitly) directing your frustration towards an imaginary Yaki. Fuming, cursing, you planned in your head, allowing your mouth to run wild. You could mess up her perfectly styled hair (though she would attack your hair then too, and it looked bad enough as it did after a long hot day of work), you could hide her earbuds in her locker (but then she would talk your ear off in the subway home), or, you could smack her with your broom. The broom smacking seemed the easiest, the most surprising, and frankly, the funnie—

Something squeaked back in response.

Your head swiveled around, your fingers gripping the trash bag as it teetered on the edge of the dumpster (dangerously so, as you dug your heels into the ground), your eyes wide, shoulders aching and nostrils flaring. The rats in New York City were as large as an alley cat, and you were not prepared to catch the bubonic plague from one of those buggers. You were pretty sure you had been vaccinated against rabies as a child, but a quick trip to the hospital to confirm that was not something you looked forward to. Either way, the thought of a rat sinking its dagger like teeth into your ankle did not sound fun.

Your eyes scanned the dark narrow alleyway, listening closely to hundreds of flashing cars zooming by on nearby streets, their horns blaring in the distance. Your pupils dilated and adjusted to the shadows cast by the towering buildings surrounding the alleyway, making sense of the shapes along the walls. Garbage bins, loose trash, scattered needles, rotting garbage bags from the business in the next building, cardboard boxes. Nothing. Nothing suspicious at all. Your knuckles turned a shade paler as you held onto the trash bag for dear life, turning towards the giant receptacle, finally releasing as it hit against the bottom of the bin with a loud thud.

Another squeak echoed in the alley as you brought your hands abruptly to your chest, ("protecting your innocent little heart now, baba?" You heard sukiyaki's voice tease you in your mind), your eyes falling towards a pile of trash bags against the opposite wall. Your heart thudded angrily against your chest. It felt as if it wanted to crawl up your throat and escape, running. You wanted to run, but your feet were glued to the asphalt. You cautiously reached for the rickety broom that was propped against the wall, right next to the garbage bin. Isidore must've been here recently, brushing the loose vegetables out into the street to be run over or stolen by the rats. Your fingers curled around the cool blue plastic, your sweaty palms squelching against the material. You were ready to slap any demon rat that came anywhere near you.

You gripped the plastic broom tightly with both hands, watching closely as one of the trash bags began to vibrate. Yes, vibrate; as if it were a ringing phone laid against a glass tabletop. You gulped, shuddering violently, as you began to take delicate steps toward towards the bag.

I'd rather it be a mutant than a freaking rat,— you hoped in your mind. At least mutants didn't try to bite... Right?

A gasp ripped from your mouth as a circular white face popped out with a rat-like squeak from a chewed up hole through the material of the plastic trash bag. There was the sound that you had been hearing all along. It belonged to a 2-D face with two white skinny stick arms stabbing into the bag as it wiggled out its beanpole of a body from the hole inside the trash bag. A drawn stick figure, about the size of your hand. It looked like it had been cut out of paper by a child, the edges showing pencil marks where the shape had been carefully drawn. It leapt out of the bag to perch itself onto the black bulging trash bag, sticking its face forward. Staring. Staring at you.

You didn't realize your mouth was hanging open until a fly smacked against your upper lip and ricocheted away. You spluttered, wiping the back of your hand across your mouth as you took a step backwards. Big mistake. The abrupt noise and sudden movement startled the stick figure. It arched its back, on all four nubby sticks (like a cat, you thought numbly in amusement), hissing at you even though it had no visible mouth. The noise that it emitted was enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight.

You stared at it. This was... unreal. A stick figure, (or a cut out figure?) coming to life, hissing at you like an angry pigeon. Did pigeons even hiss? You couldn't recall, you were just frozen. In utter shock.

...Were you high? Okay, yeah, sure, it was probably those delivery boys, their fault at is, smoking weed freely whenever they dropped off their shipments of vegetables, frozen fish and meat, including the occasional ice cream. At least you hoped; it would certainly make more sense than the stickie in front of you. Obviously, you had inhaled some second-hand-devils-lettuce smoke and now you were high as a kite, imagining a two year old's drawing cut out of a stick figure aggressively arching its back in and out at you as if it were performing some sort of mating dance.

The stick figure hissed once more and you finally noticed a hole appearing on his face, (because of course you assumed it was a male), and tiny paper like sharpened teeth baring at you.

Yeah, no.

You swiftly swung the head of the broom, bristles and all, at the sentient stick figure, slapping the surprisingly light thing in the torso and sending it flying. A loud squeal escaped its empty mouth as it sailed across the alley wall (you stared, mesmerized, wondering how paper could hold such weight), and tumbled onto the sidewalk. It scrambled to its feet, sickly yellow light from the street lamps throwing shadows against its flat white skin. It stared. And stared. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, it hissed once more at you and scurried off. The sound of its flat feet scratching lightly against the ground quickly faded away.

You stood there, sucking and exhaling rapid breaths. You stared at the place where, just moments before, a living drawing had stood.

After a few minutes, you had successfully convinced yourself that none of it had been real, or had even occurred. It was the toxic fumes from the garbage bags, mingling with remnants of the evil weed as your mother called it. It had come together to corrupt your brain and had made you hallucinate for a few minutes— that was all. It was something psychological that you were sure could be explained through a quick google search. You really had to make sure you wore a gas mask next time you took out the trash. That was a joke, but it barely amused you. Maybe it would make Sukiyaki laugh, if she didn't start cackling at your story of weed, poisonous fumes, and stick figures coming out to attack you.

You spent a few spare moments gingerly poking the hole riddled trash bag with the end of your broom, (letting out a gasp when something inside it fell over, causing you to jump), before shaking off that nagging feeling scratching the back of your mind. Everything was a-okay, perfect, absolutely fine... everything was fine.

You cleared your throat, turning swiftly on the soles of your stained beat up, formerly white sneakers, twirling the broom lazily in your free hand. Around and around, you twirled, as if you were trying to mimic the actions of a Jedi. Your heart had calmed down from the mini heart attack it just had, as you wiped your free shaking sweaty palm on your stained light blue jeans. You walked back towards the backdoor, a trembling hum resonating in your throat, dragging your shoes against the dirty concrete floor of the alleyway. Everything was just fine.

You felt the ground tremble before you heard it. The sound of feet hitting the ground behind you, slapping against the ground clumsily, a small grunt following it. Softly, albeit messily, but gently enough that you wouldn't had even noticed. If it hadn't been for the hand that grabbed your shoulder.

A shrill shriek escaped your lips as you swung around the broom (really, this had become second nature after what you had just gone through) spinning around to beat the person who had grabbed you. Grabbed you! This was New York City after all, it was late, and hadn't there been reports of mutants, gangs, and weird looking alien robots in this area as well? You were not the type of person to willingly go if you were kidnapped or, god forbid, harassed. If it came to it, the good Lord had given you two dirty hands for wielding whatever was available. Which happened to be a cheap, held-together-by-prayers-and-duct-tape-broom. Put together, you were the shining representative of all pathetic, weak, easily scared girls worldwide.

Unfortunately, before your weapon of choice could loudly thwack against the face of your adversary, the broom was gripped tightly in a shaking bandaged three fingered hand.

You were face to face with a creature.

You were both breathing heavily in sync. This thing, this animal, was injured and heaving in rhythm with you. How rude!

In the dim yellow light emitted from the streets that dragged into the alleyway, he was red— no, he was green, covered in red. You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to hide the fact that you were beginning to hyperventilate at the pure shock of this mes— wait; was that a panic attack you felt coming on? You hadn't had one in weeks!

He was taller than you, that much you could tell as you stared into his eyes. You were caught in his piercing gaze, your eyes only being able to flicker around before being dragged back into this stare. He appeared to be brawny in his physique, though you on the contrary seemed as breakable as a twig. A huge gash ran across his green face as you, for the first time, noticed a blue mask around his neck that was soaked with... blood. Torn up bandages swayed limply from his elbows, shoulders and hands, with a few knee pads barely holding on. His left shoulder leaked blood through a large open gash that didn't seem to relent with its flow. His right eye was reddened and beginning to swell shut, the other a piercing blue that seemed wrong belonging to a thing like him. Your eyes trailed to his back, oh hello there shell, where large multi colored gashes peeked at her, contrasting against the brown. The streaks seemed as if they were made out of… paint.

Your attention was pulled away as remembered the broom you were gripping with both of your hands, his three fingered hand holding the other side, his own grip in between your hands. You let go, stumbling backwards, your arms outstretched into a t-pose as you stared wide eyed in silence. Whattt was happening? What was this? Why was this? Why? Why?!

A noise that sounded like a pigeon choking on a piece of hot dog meat escaped your parted lips as you pointed at his face. The thing. The turtle. The mutant. With eyes you had only seen before in cliché anime gif's that you would usually spam to your former nanny to confuse her.

He stood there, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable, mimicking the exact expressions that you were experiencing too. He clutched the broom in one hand, his arm falling limply to the side. His grip on the pole was tight, so tight that his knuckles turned white. His hand began to shake. His grip loosened. The broom clattered to the ground. The shaking in his hands didn't stop there. It only spread, up his arms, down to his knees; his entire body seemed to be having a shaking fit. You realized, late as it was, that it was probably the buckets of blood covering him, (hey-o! blood loss!).

You took a small step forward.

"Um..." You cleared your throat, embarrassingly loud as it echoed throughout the alley, trying to draw his attention. He was staring straight ahead, his gaze empty and in some far off place other then the present. "My, my guy." You said, unsure of yourself as you scrunched up your nose at the stupid words spilling out of your mouth. You held out one hand tentatively, eyebrows knitted in concern as you licked your very dry, very salty lips. "Are you... good?"

The mutant hesitantly shrugged, his one working eye squinting and shining in the sickly yellow light. "No." His hoarse voice squeezed out, barely a whisper as it echoed along the dense towering concrete walls of the alleyway. With that one word, he collapsed in on himself, like a soda can being crushed between two hands.

You stared at the pile of blue, green, brown, beige, yellow, purple, and red before you and inhaled deeply. You gazed upon your familiar surroundings, calm as ever, and clasped your gloved hands together. "God..." You declared quite loudly, as if you were confessing to the Lord himself. "I'm high." And with those cheerful words, still trying to convince yourself that this was all a hallucination you turned on the heels of your white sneakers, opened the door, and walked inside. Humming a loud tune, the door shut closed behind you, ringing throughout the alley, out into the empty street.

A squeak rang out from a familiar hole riddled trash bag.

Everything was fine.

[aanabear2803]

hi i've seen your posts about body weight and I as a fat girl, was wondering if you are open to talk about it or give advice about it

I have been struggling real bad with it lately, I thought I was ok and had been for a few years, turns out I hate my body so much and you seem so confident, you got any advice? would you be open to talk about it in dm's?

feel free to ignore this if it's uncomfortable tho

Hi :3 um... so. I struggle with my own body weight a lot. I wont really talk about the bad thoughts that lurk about.

Ive been overweight since I was a wee lad. It especially hurts when my meds make me constantly hungry. Like I am always fucking hungry. So I just snacked the day away without any thoughts of consequences. I still eat these meds to this day. I am still as hungry as ever.

Id say I wont have very awesome advice? Because what I would normally do when those bad thoughts do happen is... post nudes on my kinky tumblr? Which, you know I dont expect others to do. Im sure there are healthier ways to express yourself than to go on tumblr and do shit like being half naked. However there are tons of gorgous women who dress in lingerie and post on tumblr all the time. You kinda just need to know where to look.

Ive also been trying to loose weight. But its more for a health thing since Im close to being diabetic and Im super duper not down for that myself. Im already tired of the meds Ive eaten I dont want to have to subject myself to stabs of insulin.

Im not on a fad diet of any kind. Im just eating 1200kcal a day watching as my weight slowly goes down~ I calculate all of this stuff too.

There's also the difference in how being fat and being unhealthy are wildly different. There's also that thing on how genetics have a say in the weight a person can be. But that is not my expertize at all! But you can be more than welcomed to go search and read up on those.

Ive been more open to exposing my skin a little at a time? Like wearing a bikini while in the pool when Im exercising. Ive been very recently trying to get corsets to work out too! Altho whether you like it or not there will be stares from people. But I would say start from the clothes, buy stuff you think would make you strut a runway. Dont just buy tshirts and pants and call it a day. Find a top in your size and fucking go for it. (Altho I understand many curvy people will not be able to find it cheap and Im just saying if you are desperate for the cash.... you can try Shein. Which I understand many Americans are banning and all the problems with fast fashion into overproduction but they do have many plus size clothes that most store dont normally have for people like us so you know its entirely up to you! But I was close to tears when I bought something and it just.... fits you know? Just dont go all out and buy their entire stock. I buy 5XL on there and dont worry about the number being so high, its probably based around the chinese style with their insane standards)

But hey look, people are going to judge no matter what ok? They always will. They will always find a way to trash talk. Its hard to ignore them, I get it. But theyre not you. They dont know if youre trying to loose weight or whether the food youre eating is a reward for having done a week of gym. Id honestly just say the fries are delicious and they should try it and we move on with our day. Its like online haters, you dont waste an hour of your life justifying things to them, so you have no reason to need to justify things to irl people.

I do hope this helps a little? I dont mind dms if you have any other questions of course :3

[kayla-crazy-stuffs]

Ready you are. You for questions have I!!!!! KAYLA

Now read that backwards :3

Ok ok ok

So was looking at tiny Mer au and found the post about Dream and Foolish. Are they related 👀👀👀

And because I’m fairly certain they are, is Puffy apart of your au and if yes, what is she????

Also it seems you like to paint George as a Villain for a lot of your aus. Just wondering what your reasons are behind that. (I actually think it’s really cool since George isn’t usually utilised as a villian against dream often)

For your Fairy au, do hunters exist in your universe? If so, who would the hunters be and what kind of uses would fairies hold in the eyes of a hunter?

Annnnnddd who and how do the characters come about breaking the language barrier? I know there’s a way to break it but you said it was rare. I wanna know!!!!!!

Surfer dream au, ha suck it George! Serves you right for tormenting Dream. However what changes George’s perspective on humans in the end? And when it does change, what happens with Dream and George’s relationship? I can imagine the tension would be high.

Also, any other characters you want to add to the surfer dream Au that you have yet to add yet? If yes, who and what are they?

Random side questions

Any recommendations for fics you love that you think everyone should read? (I want more reading material lol)

A gt movie you adore

Your favourite Christmas movie and/or Carol

Something you’d like to receive for Christmas

Thank you for answering and here’s many lollipops as thanks for answering 🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭

Woooooo! I received Questions!!! >:D Thank you Becky!!!

Yeah, Foolish and Dream are related in tiny mer au; Foolish is a shark mer that is also a sizeshifter but unlike Bad that he's human sized mer and can grow to 60ft tall mer, Foolish is a 4'5 inches tall mer that can only grow to human size.

Also for Puffy, I have no intention to add her to the au, since I'm not used to draw or write about her :')

I don't know in which more au's did I make George a villain but yeah, I kinda want to see George being a villain against Dream sometimes, since usually the villain is Dream, so I wanted to change that :]

Well, actually Fairy au is like the au that has a bit of angst at the beginning (because injuries at all) but is supposed to be a fluff au so I didn't add hunters to it :)

Well, for the language barrier; Karl likes to read a lot so one day, he finds a book where they talk about the "magic forest" and found a section were it was specifically focused on one mysterious berry that no one know its color; there are a lot of them, they have the same form but different colors; all of them are mortal if they're eaten, so that's why fairies stopped trying to find the actual one that breaks the barrier. But what will happen when Karl founds one of that berries and accidentally eat it, just to be able to understand the fairies not much later? >:]

Quackity probably reluctantly hands George something he really likes, saying it's from Dream, who wanted Quackity to give it to him since he didn't want to get anywhere near George. It would also change when Quackity reveals that Dream is actually only 16 and that he has only been trying to kill a kid...

George and Dream's relationship? Well, George would actually try to get closer to Dream but the human would only panic trying to get away from him, hiding behind Sapnap, Quackity or Punz (yeah, Punz and him are friends when this happens), but time to time Dream starts trusting George (slowly but he starts). Also because probably Sapnap and Quackity told him that George is trying to change and apologize to him.

Well, I'm also going to add Foolish to this au too :]

Recommendations?? Uhh... Right now I can't think of any but I'll tell you when I got some :']

Hmmm, Arrietty and Thumbelina (1994) :D

Christmas movie... I can't remember if I have seen any... And Carol; "25 de Diciembre, fun fun fun" (yeah, Spanish Carol UuU)

Cosplays and anime things, any type of things >:]

Thanks for the lollipops Becky!! :D

Have some cookies 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

[mr007pennyworth]

'Well someone has to look after you' Headcanon Alf x Gareth

If anyone on that base could tell you anything without hesitation it was that Alfred would always be the safest port of call should something go wrong. While Sanderson was strict and most likely to dole out punishment, McGregor wasn't below ripping you a new one and making sure the whole campus knew about it too.

Alfred was protective. Stubbornly so that he'd happily call the higher up's just to make the point that he got his way should the need arise.

But this meant that as much as he spent time trying to keep 480 men as comfortable as possible day in and day out, he didn't always look after himself. Cue, the arrival of Gareth.

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Friends, Brothers, Boyfriends, Husbands, you name it they've been called everything under the sun. But the first time Alfred laid eyes on Gareth something about Army life became, fun.

Love at first sight? Call it what you will but Alfred never looked at another person the same way and even McGregor could see that the old dog had seemingly changed his tune on retiring.

Gareth was as per expectations from their first meeting, hot headed and as much as he seemed shy in places knew when to bear his teeth. That spark had Alfred's attention in seconds. Alfred only became aware his actions around the young lieutenant had become a bit much when some of the men began to mutter about 'Major's pet'

Okay so maybe he didn't need to walk Gareth to his station every day, check in his bunk every night...walk around the yard at lunch as if guarding him.

He said to McGregor he was simplifying keeping 'the puppy under control' but even Alistair laughed that off...'You love that lil mutt' dont think I anit seen the way you treat him alf'

When Alfred didn't turn in for meals at the mess for three days in a row, Gareth began to bring it to him, breakfast, lunch and dinner were eaten in the Lt Colonels cabin.

"You didn't have to pup"

"Yeah well, I'd rather not listen to Sanderson moaning in a crowded mess hall if I can sit where it's warmer and quieter with you"

When Alfred turned up one afternoon with all of Gareth's clothes washed and pressed, boots polished and his favourite chocolate on top, Gareth found he was getting favours no one had ever seen. When he mentioned it Alfred just laughed and ruffled his hair as he walked away.

"Well someone has to look after you, its no chore if it keeps you out of scraps"

Alfred returns to a tidied desk, briefing notes all in order, medical bay notes filed alphabetically, all the clothes he'd left lying around clean and hung away on the rack not to mention his lunch on the desk with the coffee still hot.

The only mention of who'd been there was a post-it note saying

'Well someone has to look after you too"

Now it was known for Captains to bunk with their Majors, Alfred being the exception since he hadn't chosen one to differ to, he simply handed the commands to the other two Hunter and Doleski and let them share the load between the other Captains during the day.

McGregor didn't like this plan but he too didn't think any of the few Captains would have the gall to be upgraded to Alfred's second in command, with Alfred in the acting role of Lt Colonel it was likely to cause problems with men fighting to be top dog. So when Gareth was taken from the bunkers by Hunter and sent to sleep in the Lt Colonel's Quarters it wasn't because he was in trouble like many seemed to think.

Alfred had chosen Gareth to play Captain long before he'd been promoted and even Sanderson knew why. Alfred needed loyalty and he needed someone to watch his back, as the best shooter in the yard and the most obedient 'puppy' in the squad Gareth was always on the run somewhere or other playing errand boy rather than actually getting his hands dirty on duty. He was being 'being pampered like a well-bred retriever' according to some. He got private training, a bigger bed, a private shower and hot meals on demand. This caused a few men to question Alfred's authority.

Sanderson: 'Why isn't Mallory in here?"

Hunter: "He's Beagle's puppy, you know he only goes where the Major wants"

Sanderon: "That's Acting Lt Colonel to you, Captain Hunter"

Hunter: "Come off it Jack you know you don't credit him like that"

Sanderson: "Credit or not, I'd rather not have you cause the Brigader down here for insubordination at refusing his orders, Beagle is where he is, you'll all have to accept it, if you value your job and your life do not, I repeat DO NOT touch Mallory is that understood..."

Hunter: "and what about you?"

Sanderson: "If he causes trouble I'll deal with it, he's well guarded but...Alf will see soon enough that upstart isn't good enough for him"

Hunter: "of course...sir"

Sanderson: "He was meant to choose me or Captain Bridgewater, god knows why he picks the fucking Lieutenant, kids not out of diapers yet!"

Hunter: "You sir? I thought Majors weren't-"

Sanderson: "He's acting Lt Colonel he can choose a Major to be second in command-"

Hunter: "Second in his bed you mean"

Sanderson: "Oh shut up"

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