#anyway uh i hope you enjoy this!

[grmpgm]

[marclef]

a special gift for you guys, for this very important Fake Peppino Friday.... after a week of near-continuous work, i present to you the biggest mess i've posted so far to tumblr:

The Fake Peppino Headcanon/Biology/Anatomy/Whatever the heck this is Post

really just a bunch of headcanons, ideas, and other stuff i've complied together for Fake Peppino, illustrated to the best of my ability. i hope you enjoy! ✨✨✨

(caution: lots of text and assorted Frogs up ahead)

now.... who's ready for walls of text and drawings?

Fake Peppino is a homunculus, made in the shape of Peppino by Pizzahead. He's much taller than the real Peppino, 8 feet tall compared to Peppino's 5 1/2 feet. He was created using the DNA from Peppino (either skin or hair cells), old pizza, and frogs (think Jurassic Park). His entire body, including the hat and "clothes", is comprised of a strange goop, with no flesh organs or bones, though certain areas are made out of specialized goo, meant for an intended purpose.

He can stretch his body to inhuman lengths, though he usually only does this with his legs, mouth, tongue, and arms. His goopy body is extremely strong, able to withstand tearing and most puncture wounds. Attacks from knives or similar weapons are pointless, as it doesn't really harm him, and will likely just lead to him absorbing the knife into himself and retaliating. However, repeated attacks, especially physical blows, can tire him out, and explosives can harm him, splitting his body into pieces if particularly strong. This doesn't kill him, though, since he can reform his body.

If threatened, or trying to get into a tight spot, Fake Peppino can deform his body into a blob-like mass, allowing him to flee, squeeze into small areas, or melt into the floors/walls. He usually keeps his eyes and brain intact, to see his surroundings and act accordingly. The rest of his body, despite deforming and becoming mushy, can still function, meaning he could still eat in this form if he wanted to. He finds tights spaces comfortable, and can often be found squeezed into unlikely places, such as small containers, trash cans, and cabinets.

If greatly threatened, though, or sufficiently angered, Fake Peppino can pool all of the energy into his body into growing larger, by rapidly burning energy into making more goop/cells. This is very tiring, generally only used as a last resort. The process generally makes his head and body much larger, with his limbs, as well as eyes/brain, staying mostly the same size. He is dumber in this state, with all energy and thought going into eliminating the target, something that Fake Peppino doesn't like. He avoids lashing out like this unless he absolutely needs to.

Despite his frog DNA, Fake Peppino doesn't do well with water or other similar liquids. Thanks to his sturdy stomach walls, he can drink most liquids just fine, even fluids that would be dangerous to humans. It's his outside "skin" that's the problem, since it can't absorb liquid properly. Prolonged contact with water or other liquid will quickly cause him to deform, unable to keep his humanoid form, until he's sufficiently dried off/absorbed the liquid properly. He greatly dislikes being wet because of this, and will go to great lengths to avoid it. Warmer liquids are slightly more tolerable, being much more comfortable, so warm, bubbly baths are welcome.

The brain and eyes are connected directly, with the brain protected by Fake's squishy head, and the eyes popping out the widened eye sockets. The brain is made of very specialized goop, and works very similarly to a human brain, sending signals to all parts of Fake Peppino's body.

However, despite it being the central control center of his body, smaller bits of brain cell goop are distributed through the rest of his body, allowing him to control other parts separately. So, even if parts of him are detached or otherwise removed, he can still control them, for a time. After some time, these parts die off though, losing control and deforming into inert goop. He mainly uses this ability to split "clones" off of himself, controlling them to attack perceived threats.

Being made of goop, Fake's brain can withstand damage a normal brain can't, but he still prefers to keep it protected underneath his head. It dries out a bit in the open, too, which he finds uncomfortable.

Fake Peppino's eyes are very strong. Though he's often seen with a cross-eyed look to him, he's constantly watching his surroundings, even if it doesn't seem it. He has excellent night vision, often using this ability to easily stalk and sneak up on prey in the dark without being spotted.

He doesn't need to blink, but he still closes his eyes to sleep, when he's very happy, or during certain actions, such as swallowing. His eyes are one of the most vulnerable parts of his body, though, and attacking them would be a way to easily disorient him.

Fake Peppino's sense of smell is also impressive, being able to smell things long before he sees them. He uses this ability to easily find food, prey, or simply something he wants. The mustache under his nose (which, same as his "hair", is also made of goop) is sensitive, and he doesn't like others touching it.

Fake Peppino often sniffs things he's interested in, including strangers, to try to get a sense for them. He never forgets a particular smell, which makes it easy to tell if a familiar person is nearby. He often sniffs others while holding them or being given attention, likely as a form of interaction. Plus, he just thinks most others smell nice.

Despite, like the rest of him, being made of goop, Fake Peppino's teeth can harden to be extremely tough. They soften if he needs them to, such as when he deforms. His bite force is very, very strong, comparable to a hippo's bite. He doesn't chew his food too often, though, and only really chews up food he finds particularly tasty, such as pizza. His frog-like instinct usually compels him to swallow most foods whole. His teeth are more often used to grip things, such as prey items, or to carry things around. He enjoys carrying things he likes around, and will carry smaller friends around gently with his mouth.

The stretchiest part of Fake Peppino's body is his tongue, which can stretch to several times his body length. It is very sticky, coated with a clear, saliva-like goop that fills the inside of his mouth as well. Like a frog, he uses it to grab onto and eat food from afar, or to grab items he doesn't feel like using his arms to. It's very strong, and can drag even very heavy objects. The tongue's extreme flexibility allows him to reach it nearly anywhere, even down his own throat if he really wanted.

Usually, Fake Peppino uses his tongue to snatch fleeing prey items, and he can wrap it around their body to make them easier to eat. He often leaves his tongue dangling slightly out of his mouth, due to its length, but also making it easy to strike with if needed.

Fake Peppino's "stomach" is a very special case. It functions like both an organic stomach, and similarly to a lung as well, constantly moving by pushing air in and out of himself. He can use this to inflate his body, making himself bigger for intimidation (like some frogs do), or to shrink himself down by releasing all air from himself; this is generally used if a prey item is being uncooperative, to cause them to suffocate. To help keep live prey in place as well, he's able to close off his throat with a mass of goop, preventing escape.

The constant movement of the stomach makes digesting meals easier, allowing them to be coated by a specialized goop that absorbs and dissolves what it covers, like stomach acids. Fake Peppino's stomach can digest almost everything, aside from very tough materials, such as most metals, very solid plastics, tough minerals (like rocks), and bones. Anything he can't digest, he simply spits up eventually, generally in a place it can be disposed of, such as the trash.

His stomach is very sturdy and stretchy, able to withstand almost anything, and can stretch as much as needed to fit what's inside. As such, there's not much of a limit to how much Fake Peppino can eat. Eating too much makes him sluggish, though, as his body tries to process it all. Fake Peppino is most content with a reasonably-full stomach, and is generally quite calm and relaxed after a large meal. Belly rubs at this point are greatly appreciated.

If needed to, he can reach his arms back into his own throat, to grab something from inside of his stomach. He doesn't do it often, due to most things he eats being digestible, making carrying stuff around in there fairly pointless. This is only ever really the case if it's something too difficult to spit up, or something that wasn't supposed to be eaten in the first place.

There is no further digestive system, however; all food eaten is 100% absorbed in the stomach. Everything he eats is converted into more goop like him, leaving no trace behind, unless it is undigestible. Bones from eaten prey such as rats get thrown out, or disposed of in an appropriate spot.

and... though I didn't get to drawing them, here's a couple extra unsorted headcanons/dumb little tidbits I just felt like sharing!

He makes lots of strange sounds, communicating more through groans and frog-like croaks than trying to speak. He CAN talk, but not well, mostly in broken, short sentences, and usually speaks "backwards". He can understand others just fine, though he struggles with especially long and complicated words. The sounds he makes when not talking are generally unintelligable, but his mood and tone can indicate how he feels. He uses the ability to inflate his body to produce very loud, aggressive sounds when trying to ward off threats.

His gooey body is what allows him to cling to walls and ceilings with ease. He sticks to walls while trying to stalk prey, or just to play around with friends. Though, in some cases, he'll cling against the walls or ceiling if frightened, finding them a safe vantage point. If you're in the dark and feel something creeping its way towards you, it's likely Fake Peppino, silently stalking you from the walls.

Despite his inhuman traits, Fake Peppino generally doesn't like the idea of eating humans. He still sees himself as somewhat human from his time spent believing he was the real Peppino. Attacking or eating things he doesn't see as prey is kept as a last resort, or if he's extremely angered. As of now in my canon/AU, there is only one person Fake Peppino has killed in this way. He didn't like the taste.

[yoonkles]

sigh. feeling angsty. read tags first for TW ppl

SaneObaGiyuu but tragic. Tomioka is so in love with them and they’re so in love with him but a part of him just can’t believe it. Why him? What does he have? What can he give to such a relationship? What has he done to deserve this? Why do they want him?

And then he thinks maybe they don’t want him. Maybe they thought they did at first but now the initial attraction has worn off and he’s stuck in the middle of it. Maybe Sanemi and Obanai want out but they don’t know how to leave. Tomioka spirals. And we all know Tomioka, He likes to hide from things. He pulls away. He can’t help it. They invite him out to dinner and all he can think is that it’s just a convenience invite, they’ll be happier without him there, the food will taste better without his dull presence. He leaves letters unopened and unanswered because he can’t bare the sight of an empty confession, of emotionless words and reminders that he is so wholly unloveable.

And neither Obanai nor Sanemi are stupid. They can feel the difference in their lover. They know that he stills loves them, he still looks at them with that twinkle in his eye that nobody else has the privilege of seeing. But he’s not himself anymore. They don’t see his tiny little smile anymore. He’s getting paler, avoiding the sunlight like a plague, like he’s not going outside as much. SaneOba have quiet talks between themselves. Wondering what to do, how to confront this behavior, if this can be fixed. They don’t want to lose Tomioka.

So, they try. They show up at his house, both alone and together, they reject missions and neglect their own needs all for Tomioka. Because they don’t care how much sleep they’re lacking or how many times they’ve missed training, something is wrong with their love and they need to fix it, whatever it is.

For a brief period of time, things go back to normal. Tomioka sees them trying and its like a switch flicks inside of him- they are trying because they want to, because they want him. He reciprocates the effort. He makes them breakfast after they spend the night and then dinner before they travel back to their own homes. He shows up to their trainings with towels and a change of clothes. He laughs a bit more and he sunbathes in his front yard while they bicker about nothing in particular. They say I love you and he says it back. I love you, too.

But a cycle is just that. An end is just a beginning and the beginning is an end in and of itself. It could be a mission that includes Sanemi and Obanai but excludes Tomioka. Or it could be a snide remark from another rank, sticking their nose into business it doesn’t belong in. it could be an eyeroll from Sanemi or a scoff from Obanai. but somewhere along the way something happens and Tomioka is once again awake at three in the morning with a weight on his chest. There’s a pressure behind his eyes and a pit in his stomach. He doesn’t want this to happen again. He was getting so much better. Why does this always happen to him? Why can’t he be normal, accept love without question? Is there something wrong with him? Fundamentally, cosmically wrong?

He spirals. It's just like before. But this time there’s no one there to keep his head above water. Sanemi and Obanai are sent on a mission. Tanjiro and Nezuko haven’t seem him in months. The other Hashira barely tolerate him as it is. He is alone. And he sinks.

It only takes a few days. The feeling of his sword against his wrists isn’t as unnerving as he thought it would be.

In a few days time, the crows of the Demon Slayer Corp receive a message. Kanzaburou caws solemnly. The news travels fast.

It reaches the Hashira residing at the estate first. Shinobu, Rengoku, and Himejima. The birds swarm above them, and for an oblivious second, they think there’s a mission. Then, Attention, Hashira! Tomioka Giyuu, the water pillar, has been found dead in his estate!

And there’s a silence between the three. Maybe it’s the shock. Maybe it’s the wording. Dead. In his estate. They listen to the message repeat two, three times more before it sets in. One of them is dead. Shinobu is the first to start moving. Rengoku and Himejima follow closely.

Next, is Tengen, who relaxes at home with his wives milling about. He can hear his crow from miles away. When the bird doesn’t say anything until it lands on a window perch, is when Tengen knows something is wrong. The words ring throughout the house. Tomioka Giyuu has been found dead. One of his wives drops a cup. It shatters on the floor. Tengen flinches.

Mitsuri is training when she’s delivered the news. She snaps her wooden sword in two. She can’t accept it- and- and then she thinks- Obanai. Sanemi. She doesn’t thinks she’s ever cried so hard before, and she doesn’t think she ever will again.

Sanemi and Obanai are on their way back from a long, hard mission. They talk amongst themselves once in awhile, hands grasped and swaying. They’re making their way back to Tomioka’s house, grateful to finally see their lover after weeks apart. Though, they’re worried, undoubtedly so. Tomioka hasn’t sent a letter in days. They wonder if perhaps he has been sent on a mission and hasn’t been able to write, yet. They miss him. They can’t stop talking about him, about seeing him again. Sanemi plans to cook the three of them dinner and Obanai talks of taking Tomioka on a walk.

When they’re only two miles away, there’s a rustle in the trees. Both of them tense. The adrenaline inside them is still pumping, muscles long overworked from slaying demons. They both keep their eyes keen on the tree line. Only, instead of a sneak attack, out flies a crow.

It’s an estate one, not assigned to any specific slayer. It sqwuaks once, then twice, circling above them like a bad omen. Sanemi’s heart jumps into his throat and Obanai swallows harshly. Something’s wrong. They can feel it.

Attention, Hashira! Tomioka Giyuu, the water pillar, has been found dead in his estate!

The world is ripped from beneath their feet. They can’t- they can’t breathe. Their throats are closing up and their lungs are squeezing and nothing feels real. Neither of them move. They’re stuck infinitely in the place they are, where their feet meet the ground. One step in front of a time where Tomioka was still alive and forced to take another step into a time where he is not.

They don’t look at each other. Their hands fall from each other’s touch. They both begin to run.

They are the first to reach the estate. The body.

Sanemi breaks down the front door with a shaky leg and a bruised shoulder. Obanai grabs him by his uniform and drags him inside and they’re both stumbling through the living room. They ignore the silence because they have to, because if they focus too much on it then they don’t think they’ll be able to keep walking.

The kitchen is empty and so are the closets and the patio and the bathroom. While Sanemi is kicking at a closed door in frustration, Obanai’s feet stop in front of the closed off bedroom. He knows what’s behind it. Sanemi does too, because instead of kicking that closed door, he stomps over to kick this one instead. He’s angry, though Obanai can see through it clearly.

“I swear to god, you better open this fucking door, G-..” He says, and then he cuts himself off, because his voice is wavering and he can’t say that name. Not yet.

Obanai twists the knob open instead. He can’t bear the nerves. He needs to see for himself. He won’t believe it if he doesn’t.

Tomioka sits splayed against the furthest wall. His head is slumped over on to his shoulder and his eyes are closed. His hair is untied and greasy and wisps across his forehead. His haori is neatly folded next to him, with his shoes tucked away as well.

His wrists are cut up to his inner elbow. The blood that spills from them has long since dried.

Sanemi drops to his knees and the only way Obanai is able to stay upright is the utter shock keeping him rigid. Silent, hot tears begin to fall. They don’t look away from the body- the body of their lover.

This is how they’re found five minutes later, when the other pillars begin to arrive. Shinobu, Rengoku, and Himejima are first. Tengen and Mitsuri arrive seconds later.

It’s not enough, it feels too empty. The simplest, quietest gasp from Shinobu is what knocks Sanemi and Obanai from their stupor.

They scramble and trip and stumble to Tomioka like there’s still time, like there’s still someway to save him. The rest of the Hashira are stilled in silence, unable to find something to do or say, unable to stop their friends. Obanai grabs at his lover's arms and tries to push the sliced skin back together. Sanemi’s clammy palms grabs at his paper white cheeks and checks his pulse.

When he finds none, he screams. He sucks in a breath and he digs his face into Tomioka’s chest and he screams.

Obanai finally begins to register that the dried blood on his hands will never wash off. He will forever be stained the same way he was stained all those decades ago when they first sliced his lips open. He falls from his ankles to his knees and nestles the palm of Tomioka’s hand to his cheeks with a cry.

The Hashira don’t know what to do. They stand at the doorway and they watch the blood smear and the tears fall. They listen to sobs so anguished that it burns into their memory. Himejima begins to pray but the words are muffled over the loudness of grief.

Getting the cold body away from Sanemi and Obanai proves to be difficult. They lash out and attack indiscriminately at their peers. They draw swords and scream threats and crowd around Tomioka’s body like a lion does a carcass.

Shinobu has to be brought tranquillizers from the butterfly estate. Only after it’s administered do Sanemi and Obanai finally collapse in on themselves.

Mitsuri and Himejima watch over them solemnly as Tengen, Rengoku, and Shinobu wrap up Tomioka’s body in a white sheet.

The funeral is worse than the day of Tomioka’s death, if that’s even possible. The Kamado siblings are finally made aware of the situation, along with the group of friends they acquaint themselves with. The former water Hashira, Urokodaki, is also informed. Genya finds out through Himejima.

The turmoil is immense. Tanjiro is inconsolable. He is barely able to stand upright as he rushes through Butterfly Estate’s doors. Zenitsu and Inosuke are following closely behind him, with Nezuko hiding away in her box. They say they’ve been running for a day and a half straight after receiving the news. That there must be some kind of mistake, that their crow has mistranslated the words, that it can't be true.

The quiver in Tanjiro’s voice when he asks- Is Giyuu-san here? Can we see him?- is enough for Shinobu to break her facade. A tear slips down her cheek as she takes the three boys and the demon girl into a back room where Tomioka’s body lay prepped for the funeral.

The cries that come after she closes the door echo around the entire estate. They don’t stop.

Urokodaki arrives later that day. He’s wearing his mask as he bows to the Hashira, and they bow back. Sanemi and Obanai avoid his gaze. They can’t look him in the eye, they can’t even look in his direction. Hearing his voice makes them flinch. They can’t handle this- they can’t do this- they can’t face the effects of their failure.

Urokodaki asks a question as well, once formalities are finished. Where’s my son? He asks, quietly, hushed. Sanemi and Obanai begin to sob. The former water Hashira joins them.

Genya.... tries. He watches, at first, from a distance. Ever since he first heard the news, He’s been watching. Keeping his eyes trailed on his grieving brother. His ‘Nemi. His sweet, protective older brother who won’t stop screaming his tears and wrecking the training grounds. Genya is scared. He’s completely terrified that maybe this is the breaking point. That Sanemi won’t be able to take anything more after this.

Genya doesn’t say it out loud, but thinks his brother is going to kill himself.

Death, as always, drives people apart. It’s the catalyst, the very foundation of loss. The Hashira are not exempt to this.

Sanemi and Obanai are not exempt to this. Tragedy breeds resentment and resentment only grows. They push each other away. It feels too wrong, too out of place to be together, to be in the same room, to eat the same meal. There’s something missing. There will always be something missing.

There is no messy eater sitting between them at dinner. There is no quiet chuckles during their bickering. There is no half-read book sitting on their nightstand, there is no extra pair of shoes at their door, there is no soft whispers of I love you both before they drift to sleep.

There is no Tomioka. There will never be Tomioka again.

And without Tomioka, they don’t think there can be a them.

At the urgent orders of their master, the remaining Hashira take shifts keeping diligent eyes on the wind and snake pillars. It’s not an order they need- the growing concern among them is enough.

Rengoku and Tengen train with Sanemi. Mitsuri drags Obanai along to a picnic at her estate every other day. Himejima visits them both every morning, meal, and night to pray. Shinobu sits in silence, or watches from a spot in the trees, any chance she gets.

Tanjiro writes to the two pillars daily. He might not have had the best impression of them at first, but he knows loss intimately. He knows they are grieving. He is, too.

Genya reaches out to his brother as often as he can. Obanai, as well. Neither of them often answer the door. But he’s okay with just sitting outside and talking. Even if most times, he’s simply talking to himself.

Despite everything, despite it all, there is a certain truth to the universe. An end is a beginning and a beginning is an end. And Tomioka’s cycle does not end with him. Loss does not end, nor will it ever. it takes and it takes and it never stops taking.

Sanemi kills himself three weeks after Tomioka’s funeral. He lays down at his lover’s grave and sends his crow to apologize to Obanai. Genya is the first to find his body.

Obanai is not a strong man. He never has been. He has lost everything and everyone and he does not know how he’s made it this far in life. He gets the news of Sanemi’s death within the hour. And... he thinks this is it. He does not want to make it any further. Not when he’s alone, not like this.

Fearing for his child, Master Kagaya sends Tengen, the fastest of the Hashira, to the snake pillar’s estate at once.

When he arrives, Obanai is already swinging above a tipped over chair.

The two bodies are later buried on either side of Tomioka. Because there is no them if it is not all three.

The cycle continues.

[braisedhoney]

the first thing a beast forgets is the taste of its own heart.

(a good luck (?) charm for those who are watching the owl house tomorrow since it’s all over the place rn. lemme know how that goes!)

[thelonelyshore-if]

Perri Drabble

Or, Perri wakes up next to MC for the first time.

Perri opens their eyes and sees stars. 

The sky is a silver-dusted black canvas stretched far overhead. Without their glasses the stars are just blurs of light a million miles away, but that doesn’t stop them from being beautiful. The night is crisp. Cold. They shiver, instinctively pulling the sleeves of their cardigan down.

Where…are they?

Calling this grogginess would be an understatement. Their entire body aches. Their eyelids feel heavy, still weighed down by the lull of sleep. Their skull feels like it's been filled with white noise and trying to form a thought is like wading through quicksand.

Is this what getting more than a few minutes of sleep at a time does to you? They aren’t sure they like it. Especially considering that they have no idea how in the world they got outside. For all of their insomnia, they’ve never sleepwalked before. They doubt that they’ve started now. But if not that, then how…?

Aliens.

The idea instantly cuts through the slog of thought. Perri sits bolt upright, eyes splaying wide and pulse growing quick. They grin, even though the motion sends their head into a dizzying spiral. The stars dance overhead and their stomach lurches. They don’t care.

But…wait. No. That doesn’t make any sense.

Perri stares out, realizes that they’re sitting on the deck of their lookout tower. Usually they’d be lying on the cold metal of the deck. Instead, they brush their palm against something soft and worn. Their grandma’s old quilt. Wouldn’t aliens have put them back in bed? Not just dropped them off on the deck?

And the quilt is weird, too. It’s spread out beneath them so deliberately. Did they do that? Why? They furrow their brow.

Perri makes a frustrated noise in the back of their throat. They ball up a fist, gently knock it against their forehead. Someone’s poured tar over their brain, they can’t think, and they can’t remember. They curl up in a huddle, arms wrapped around their legs and forehead pressed against their knees.

Waking up is always confusing. They sleep so rarely that it’s always hellish to claw their way back into consciousness. Even so, this feels different. Perri groans and turns their head to the side.

They turn, and they see you. 

In an instant their blood turns to ice and, nearly as quickly, melts. The excited little pitter-patter of their heart turns into great racing thumps, the weight of it so fast and heavy that it hurts. 

Oh. Oh.

You're lying next to them, body stretched languidly across the quilt. The red light of the radio tower blinks overhead. Lazily, like a pulse. Every few seconds it lights you up with a brilliant crimson haze, and then just as fast you're swallowed by the darkness once again. The illumination makes you look otherworldly, like some kind of fae creature sprawled out on their deck.

Perri tries to swallow and finds that they can't, that a rock has been wedged down their throat. Cold sweat beads on their forehead and trickles down the small of their back. There's a pinching behind their ribs that stings harder and harder with each throbbing beat of their heart.

They look away. They can’t stand watching you any longer, not when everything is a blur. Instead they stare out at the forest. They can’t make out any details, not really, but they do see the thick layer of late night fog smothering the trees. Normally they like the fog. They like how it swallows everything until they’re just a tower in the sky overlooking a sea of gray.

Right now, though, it’s isolating. They’re trapped.

Did they…did you…?

You’re lying next to them on the deck of their lookout, so clearly something happened. Perri sits up, risks another peek. You look disheveled, but of course you would. You’re sleeping outside, in the cold, in the middle of October. It doesn’t diminish your beauty, and Perri has to look away again.

Fuck.

They look at their hands. Their arms. Take stock of their body. They’re in yesterday’s cardigan and a pair of plush pajama pants. If you two had…if something had happened, they wouldn’t be dressed. Right?

They can’t take comfort in it for long, because you’re still here. They woke up next to you under the stars, and they have no fucking clue why.

Well–that isn’t true. They have some inkling as to why. You’re here because whenever they see you their heart dances. Because you make them smile. You’re beautiful, and they adore you already, and somehow you like them back. Of course they wanted you here. 

If only they could remember asking.

Perri can’t take this anymore. They get to their feet, trying not to look at you. They wring their hands over and over. The gesture calms them down, if only a little. It’s easier to think when their fingers are busy.

Memory has always been a tricky thing for Perri. Their insomnia has taken huge bites out of their brain, chewing things like memories into barely-recognizable bits. People are supposed to sleep, as a rule, and they don’t. Not really.

They stumble over to the tower railing, staring out at the fog. They just need to think, and it will come to them. What did they do last night–that’s where they need to start.

Did they put on their show? Surely they did, they so rarely miss it. If so…were you there? Did you stay after? Did you ask to stay…did they offer? They can’t imagine they would have. As much as they like you, they’re terrified. Now more than ever.

What did you two talk about? Did you watch the stars? They’ve always loved how the stars look out here. This far out from town you can see them all.

Did you kiss them?

Perri’s heart constricts. They feel sick. What if you did?

They aren’t sure they can take the thought of kissing you for the first time and forgetting about it. Anguish washes over them, leaving them feeling brittle. Like any second now they might break into a hundred tiny pieces.

“Hey.”

They spin around, heart instantly in their throat. You’re sitting up, huddled with the quilt wrapped around your shoulders. They can make out enough of your face to see that you’re smiling, though you look half asleep. A thin layer of mist curls around you, so pale they can hardly see it.

Perri meets your eyes and it’s like getting hit by a truck.

You did sit in during their show. You listened as they talked to callers, occasionally chiming in with your thoughts. You smiled at them over the soundboard, your eyes sparkling. They teased and joked in a way they don’t usually. They always feel more confident when they’re on air…and they wanted to impress you.

The whole time they wondered if you were flirting. You kept smiling at them. Making excuses to touch them–hand brushing against one another, shoulders bumping. Each time they felt half-nauseous with anxiety…and excitement, too.

And then the show ended, and they felt suddenly bold. Asked if you wanted to see the stars. They had the perfect place for it, they explained. They took you out onto the deck, spread out a tattered old quilt beneath you. Pointed out their favorite constellations.

At one point you rolled over on your side. Watched them, instead of the stars.

“What are you doing?” they whispered.

“This,” you responded, just as soft, before kissing them.

How could Perri forget?

“Um. Hi.”

They turn and face you now, emotions they can’t quite sort out churning within. They feel as elated as they are terrified. You let the quilt drop off your shoulders, smoothing it flat once again before patting the empty spot at your side.

“It’s pretty cold without you,” you say, and they think they might cry.

“Sorry,” their voice breaks, a little, but if you notice you don’t say anything.

“Come back to me?”

Perri can’t refuse. They return to your side, drop to their knees. They can’t believe they almost forgot their first night with you. In an instant they know that what they’re feeling is relief. It crashes over them so fiercely that it feels like it could knock them over. 

It makes them bold.

They kiss you. It’s clumsy, but it’s good. So good. They feel tears prick at the corners of their eyes. You kiss them back with a sleepy enthusiasm. When they pull away you reach up, brush away their tears.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, doubt flickering across your face.

“I–” they start, before stopping. Shaking their head. They remembered, in the end, so it doesn’t matter, does it? They remember you. Of course they remember you.

“I’m just happy,” Perri says. 

And they're not even lying. Not really.

[weirdqueerleftistunity]

I was trying to forget about those people that think Leftist Unity is a weird ship because, "Tankie is a fatherly figure to Ancom" but I accidentally stumbled across a reply in the comments that reads,

Also jreg: Portrays tankie as a father figure to ancom directly before this song

..and it just baffles me. I've always found the flashback to be such an exaggerated portrayal of Ancom's naivety that I see it as a reflection of Commie's own flaws more than seeing it as an accurate portrayal of their relationship. When looking back on the dialogue of their break up, I see the pattern of Commie wanting to assert his ideology and his reality over the other, to "educate" Ancom who CLEARLY doesn't know what qi's talking about.

Commie: Come, take my hand. You are not thinking straight. Ancom: Nah, I'm thinking just fine. Actually a lot more clear than I've been thinking in the past. [...] Commie: Is this about all the times I killed all the anarchists? Come on! We were fighting capitalism and fascism. We had no time for anarchy! Ancom: Yeah, we were definitely never cool on that front. Commie: Clearly you have brain damage. More brain damage than usual. Ancom: Nah, actually, I feel like a lot more clear-headed. And come to think of it, this whole leftist unity thing was always a way of tankies to just control all leftist discourse. I'm kind of sick of that shit [...]

Ancom may be under the effects of nihilism, but qi didn't suddenly fabricate a dismissive, demeaning, infantilising Commie - it's just that under the slightest pressure, the slightest change of perspective, Ancom realises qi doesn't want to stay with Commie anymore. And what reason does qi have to stay when even Commie can't come up with a convincing argument for qim?

Commie: But… but the centrists. The… the extremists! [...] Commie: What do you want me to do? Represent the entire left? What do we do without the gays? Who's going to represent the gays? Commie: What do I do without you? What do I do without him? Ancom: Oh tankie, one last thing. It's quee/quem.

^^ That's the expression of someone who's realising that through their own behaviour, they've pushed the one they love away. You could say that up until this point, Commie has felt he provides guidance and purpose to Ancom; but really it was Commie who was the one deriving purpose from being Ancom's superior. With no purpose, a void that needs to be filled, it's no wonder that Commie is taken by Auth-Right's narrative that he's a part of a greater political war.. But back to my point.

Having the flashback where Commie is reminiscing about a version of Ancom that must think of Commie as a "teacher" being sandwiched between the break up (Ancom asserting that qi is tired of constantly being used and disrespected) and the duet (Commie reflecting and coming to realise he needs to treat Ancom as an equal if he wants qim to come back) - to me, this is obviously a tool of contrast. If you're taking the flashback literally as to see Commie as Ancom's parent rather than the exaggeration of the flaw that Commie infantilises the other then.. Idk what to say other than, do you REALLY think Ancom would say, "you're so smart, I'll do whatever you say"? Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems like this is a fictitious version of Ancom that idolises Commie: an illusion that was shattered the moment Ancom left and showed Commie that qi doesn't need him as much as he needs Ancom to feel whole.

This contrast is what helps the song Leftist Unity absolutely slam dunk my feelings every time, because you watch Commie go from yearning for this inaccurate memory of Ancom to having an argument with Ancom where qi is framed in a way where qi is equal to the other. Like I'm not someone who's great at deciphering imagery, but I think it's quite blatant that musically and visually there is not a superior side. Though Ancom does turn grey and fade into the background, this more signals how Commie has been left behind to mourn the loss of the other now that qi's gone.

And after this we get the interaction between Auth-Right and Commie where Auth-Right takes advantage of this beautiful butch lesbian's heartbreak; where Commie is on the brink of making a meaningful change before experiencing some character regression as Auth-Right convinces the other that he doesn't need to change.

Auth-Right: What, are you still sulking about that degenerate? Commie: I just… I just don't know who I am without Anarkiddy. [...] Commie: I don't know, [Auth-Right]. I have been reading about left communism, and- Auth-Right: Commie, listen to me. [...] The left versus the right. The far left versus the far right. Everything falls into place around us. And I wouldn't give that up for anything. [...] Commie: This is the kind of authoritarian unity I always wanted. Auth-Right: Well, now that the degenerate's gone, we can finally have it.

Commie obviously isn't perfect here. Change can be rocky, so he still calls Ancom "Anarkiddy" here but he IS trying to learn more about Ancom's ideology (once again, it is just tragic that Auth-Right takes advantage of this beautiful butch at his lowest)... And I want to point out Commie READING qis theory to highlight the fact that Ancom isn't an idiot who needs to be educated on every little thing, Ancom isn't a child, Ancom just knows qis OWN ideology's theory better that Commie's. If you quizzed Commie on Ancom's ideology, Commie likely wouldn't know nearly as much a Ancom does, but because Ancom doesn't talk like an "intellectual" people seem to think that Ancom doesn't know anything. Like Ancom LITERALLY brings up Kropotkin and Bookchin in episode 3- do I have to point out that Ancom can read or what? Again, it makes it weird to see the flashback taken literally because of COURSE Ancom is going to be viewed as childish if you don't have any respect for Ancom's ideology - which is exactly what Commie did.

This post could likely be more polished to better explain my point, but basically, I will always take issue with people who assert that Leftist Unity is a father-son dynamic when I think the text is trying to communicate a narrative of Ancom being treated in a demeaning manner - which makes it even MORE insulting when you do the exact same thing (infantilising Ancom) the narrative is communicating was WRONG.. Of course, you can interpret the text whichever way you want, but don't jump on shippers as if we don't know what we're talking about. We have seen the text, we just don't think it says what YOU think it's saying.

Also, they canonically play tropey romantic music when Ancom and Commie reunite so I think maybe the editor might understand the text better than you- Sorry, who said that? (This is just a petty remark to be funny. I'm just being opinionated, you honestly can interpret them as father and son if you want.)

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 8

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] Part 8:

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Masturbation, Fingering, Pegging, Thigh Riding, Fluff, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

(by popular demand and because I think I learnt something about myself lmao)

You walked inside the apartment after a night out with your friends that had left you a little tipsy. It was late and everything was dark. You took your shoes off and padded around, hoping you didn't wake up Carmy.

As you approached the bedroom you could hear some rustling and humming inside. You cracked the door open a little. With the glow of the moon and the streetlights you could make out the silhouette of Carmy lying in bed, hair damp from the shower and head tilted back in pleasure. A soft moan escaped his lips.

You smiled. It wasn't the first time you had walked in on him masturbating. Sometimes it would happen that he would get back from work, find you sleeping and touch himself beside you - you had woken up twice for the end of it, sleepily kissing his face and saying how good he had been, and falling back asleep. Another time in the shower, you walked in and helped him finish. He had seen you too a couple of times - one had ended with his head between your legs. Bottomline, it wasn't an issue - more often than not it was a serious turn on. And so you leaned on the doorframe, quiet and careful not to interrupt Carmy, looking at how beautiful he looked in the pale moonlight. Except he turned over and instead of seeing him holding his cock like you expected, you saw him curling two fingers inside his asshole, all digits shiny with lube, his back arching in pleasure as he got on all fours.

"Fuck," he whined, a strong exhale followed by your name.

You pressed your thighs together, your heartbeat racing, enjoying the sight more than you ever thought you would.

Carmy kept arching into himself and you recognized the frustration of not being able to reach your climax. After some moments of thought you decided to walk in.

"Carm," you said, your voice low. "Can I help?"

"Fuck," he uttered, slightly surprised. He was sweaty and desperate and it stirred something inside you. "Fuck, sorry, you don't have to-"

"I know, I want to."

He handed you the bottle of lube and you warmed it up in your right hand, coating every finger. With your left hand, you tugged on his wrist, prying the fingers that were deep inside him, out.

"Please, please," he begged.

"It's okay, I'll take care of you," you leaned over, kissing the base of his spine, the pretty dimples he had there. Carmy keened once every finger was out and you soothed his back and waist, appreciating the view from this angle you rarely enjoyed. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," it was an ongoing agreement between you two but it was always nice to remind each other, especially when he was as desperate as this.

"Yes," he panted.

Carefully, you inserted your index and middle fingers, following what he had been doing before - your hands were smaller anyway. The sharp moan he let out was unlike any sound you had ever heard him make and it electrified you down to your toes.

"Holy shit, Carmy," you mumbled.

You were cautious, going slow, knuckle by knuckle,  but he thrust back into your hand.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he cursed, and started fucking himself into your fingers, squeezing, his back muscles flexing. "Thank you, thank you."

After a while of that, his rhythm started faltering and that frustrated sound came back, you leaned over and whispered:

"Tell me how you want it."

Carmy exhaled, stopping mid-thrust to recover his breath.

"Can you- shit, fuck- can you move your fingers?"

"Like you do with me?" you asked, remembering the delicious waves his fingers made inside you.

"Exactly like that," he chuckled and leaned back to caress your forearm.

You moved your fingers like he asked, changing the rhythm until it was something Carmy enjoyed. Your wrist cramped, unaccustomed to the motion, and when you shifted and started over, Carmy let out a cry of absolute bliss.

"Oh," you marveled, trying to touch the same spot again.

"Right fucking there, please, please, please..." he begged and you were so happy to give him everything he wanted. Your underwear was soaked with the noises he was making.

"You're doing so good, Carmy," you said.

His hand reached behind to touch you, anything, your thigh, your arm, and squeeze the hell out of it while his asshole clenched around your fingers.

"I'm so close," he fell face forward, his ass up as you kept hitting that same spot. "Feels so good."

Some primal part of you awoke, and you leaned forward to grab his hair and pull on it, not too hard, just enough to push him over the edge.

"Jesus, fuck, holy shit," he said, followed by some unintelligible noises that were probably curses too, and he came hard - shaking and panting.

You smiled, keeping your fingers in there and moving until he asked you to stop. You kissed his dimples again and went inside the bathroom to wash your hands and get some wipes. Gently, you moved Carmy to lie on his side and cleaned his ass, and the mess of cum on his stomach and chest. You laid beside him on the bed, him stark naked and you fully clothed.

"Baby, baby, baby," he mumbled, his eyes glazed and fucked out, caressing your thigh, beckoning you closer so he could kiss you. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Thank you."

You kissed him deeply, passionately, with all the hunger he had made you feel while you fingered him. Then you pressed a chaste peck on his jaw.

"What're you sorry for, Carm?" you asked softly.

"I didn't mean to force you to-"

"You didn't force me. You've never forced me to do anything," you said, carding your fingers through his hair. "I don't think you have it in you, Berzatto," you teased.

He smiled lazily.

"How'd this all come up?" you asked after a while, still caressing his face and hair.

He reached over you to his bedside table and handed you the sex book you had gifted him months and months ago when you first started fucking. The covers were worn in and there were several dog eared pages; one was on prostate stimulation.

"I know you meant it as a joke," he smiled bashfully. "But it got me thinking- And I wanted to try it out myself before saying something," he explained. "Didn't mean to leave you out of it or anything."

You kissed him again, tenderly this time. It was such a vulnerable thing and he was willing to share it with you. You caressed his shoulders and chest.

"So did you like it?" you asked against his lips.

Carmy nodded. "It was fucking fire."

"Well, I thought it was unbelievably hot too, so..." you confessed.

Carmy hummed softly, almost purring as he leaned forward to kiss you. His hands teased at the belt loops of your jeans, inching closer and closer to the button and zipper.

"There's no need, Carm," you whispered; you could tell he was completely wiped out.

"I want to. I want to," he got rid of your jeans and underwear with shaky hands. "I'm just gonna say thank you real quick."

He went down your body and placed himself between your thighs, hoisting your legs over his shoulders.

"Oh, you really thought it was hot," he gasped, the proof of it glistening right in front of him.

"I wouldn't lie about that," you chuckled, already bucking your hips at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

"Good," he said.

He closed his eyes as he licked and sucked and kissed you, giddy and glowing from his orgasm. You let go, enjoying all of it, caressing his face and feeling the tight knot of anticipation in you unravel fast. You came with a sigh, gently grinding on his nose, feeling weightless.

Carmy climbed back up, and put his head on his hand. He looked at you.

"What is it?" you asked, smiling.

"Would you-" he turned away for a moment, embarrassed. "Would you ever consider- uh- fucking me?"

Your heart skipped a beat and you could feel the fire in your lower belly reigniting.

"I'll definitely think about it, Carm."

~

You knocked on the backdoor to the restaurant and Richie opened it, backpack in tow.

"Hey, there," he greeted you, kissing your cheek, and let you in. "Mr OCD is almost done with his deep clean."

The kitchen was almost empty. Syd was picking up her stuff - with a smile and a roll of her eyes she pointed to where Carmy was, kneeling and scrubbing.

You had seen him clean the floor before, except now finding him on his knees reminded you of a few nights before when he was on all fours, keening with every move your fingers made, arching his back...

"Oh, hey," he looked up and smiled at you. "Why are you here? You okay?"

"Yeah," you said, trying to hide the blush on your face with your scarf. "You said you'd meet me like half an hour ago, is all."

Carmy tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

"That can't be right," he turned to the clock. "Shit. Syd's still here?"

"She just left."

"I'm sorry, lost track of time," he got up and started picking everything up.

Once every light was off, you stood there in the doorway waiting for him. He had to scoot close to you to get through; your eyes wandered over his body.

"What?" he chuckled.

"Just thinking about how good you look on your knees," you flirted.

He laughed and kissed you hungrily against the doorframe.

"I'll do it. I'll fuck you whenever you want," you said, your cold hands finding the skin of his waist. "I mean it."

He ground against you, humming with pleasure.

"Fuck," his voice was hoarse. "Next week okay?"

"Next week works for me," you said playfully before licking his lower lip.

He kissed you one last time before he pulled away to lock the door. You shivered a little in the Chicago cold and Carmy put an arm around you.

~

Carmy guided you to stand by the bed; he sat in front of you, caressing the side of your hips and thighs, something adoring in his gaze.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice breathy with nerves and need.

"Okay."

He placed a kiss in the valley between your breasts, inhaling you deep, and then leaned sideways to retrieve the harness from his bedside table. He secured the strap on carefully to your hips. You watched him work, the way his hands moved over and around you, the way his eyes lit up when he looked up at you. You cupped his face.

"And you? You sure?" your thumb circled his cheekbone.

He smiled and kissed your palm. "Yeah."

You finally took your eyes off of him and glanced at the dildo. Carmy had chosen it. It was on the shorter and slimmer side, which was a relief in a way - the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him in the heat of the moment. You touched the side of it experimentally.

"All good?" he asked, tilting his head.

"A little weird," you replied honestly. You took a step further between his legs, your nails scratching gently at his muscled back. "Want to make you feel good so bad," you said in a raspy voice.

"Fuck," Carmy groaned when you pushed him gently to lay on the bed.

"On your hands and knees," you told him, the thrill of anticipation made you feel less self conscious about taking control.

He rushed to obey, turning his back towards you, letting you see the butt plug he had placed inside himself before you came home. He was nervous about stretching himself in front of you, he had said.

"Let me know if I can help next time," you said softly, one hand soothing the small of his back and the other holding a bottle of lube. "I mean if you- If we like it, you know?"

"Next time," he agreed, his voice breathy. "Didn't want to blow my load before you even put the strap on is all."

You giggled. "It would have been kinda hot." He huffed in response.

Your hands settled on his waist, bracing as you kneeled on the bed behind him.

You poured a huge amount of lube on your hand, letting a dollop of it fall on Carmy's ass, making him hiss a little from the cold, while you covered the dildo in it.

You tugged on the butt plug, a mess of lube gathering on the base of it already, making it glide right out as Carmy made a drawn out, low sound.

"Fuck," you whispered, heart hammering inside your chest. You lined up the dildo. "Slow at first, okay?"

"Yes, please, just- please," he begged and you knew the harness would need some serious washing once you were done with how turned on you were getting. It was everything: Carmy's pleading voice, his back muscles flexing, the excitement of making him feel good, the nervousness of trying something entirely new...

You pushed inside him.

"Oh, fuck," he said in a hoarse voice. You could see his legs trembling as he contained the impulse of leaning back on you too quick. You moved gently, carefully, inch by inch until you bottomed out. "Fuck, yes!" he let out.

You stayed still for a while, letting him get accustomed to the stretch, listening to him breathe deep, something like a growl trapped in the back of his throat.

"Okay?" you asked caressing his sides, from his waist up to his ribs and back, soft skin scribbled with ink.

"Yeah," he sighed. "You can move now."

You leaned back and forth, holding his waist. He only hummed softly - it wasn't good, not yet. You tried shifting a little to find a less awkward position.

"You make this look so easy," you complained after a while, struggling to get comfortable.

Carmy laughed and you joined him.

"You showed me what to do," he said, reaching behind to touch your hand reassuringly. "But some of it was- I don't know- instinct I guess..."

And you knew what he meant. There came a moment in sex where something took over, when your hips moved with a will of their own.

"Hey. It's okay," he reassured you. "Pretty sure that if you just stayed there and talked dirty for a minute I would still come."

You giggled and the vibrations made Carmy moan a little, that delicious sound you loved so much. You had to at least try.

"Mind if we change it up a little?" you leaned over to place a kiss on his spine. "You on your back so I can see you?"

"Yeah, yeah. That sounds- yeah," he agreed breathily.

With you between his open legs, it wasn't all that different from when you were riding him. You could see Carmy close his eyes in pleasure as you finally found a rhythm.

"Fucking- that's so good, so fucking good, baby," he said and the praise went right down to your pussy, the mere friction of the harness making you moan in unison with Carmy. One of your hands gripped the mattress while the other held tight to his side, that bit of skin between the V of his stomach and his hip. He was sweating and heaving underneath you.

"Fuck. You look so fucking hot, Carm, holy shit," you blurted out. It made him smile and reach for your hand. His touch was gentle, grateful, even as he let out a growl from deep inside his chest.

You shifted your hips a little, trying to keep the strap on in place and Carmy exhaled shakily.

"Right there," he squeezed your wrist. "Right fucking there. Please, please, please..."

"I got you, Carm, I got you,"

You kept hitting that spot until he was writhing on the bedsheets, reaching for the edge of the bed, and arching his back. There were tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Please keep going," he whined.

You scratched his skin, the sinful sounds you two were making spurring you on.

"Look at you! You're wonderful, you're perfect, Carm."

"Fuck you," he said without bite. He was meeting your thrusts desperately. "You can't say shit like that when I'm so close."

"Oh, I think it's the perfect moment to say shit like that," you replied, fucking him faster, whispering sweet nothings between each thrust: "You're gorgeous. And you're being so good, Carm, so good..."

"I- I'm-" was all he could say before he came with a long groan - hands in his hair, neck arched, veins pulsing.

If the sounds he was making were any indication, he was coming harder than he ever had, and the thought made you shiver with satisfaction. You stopped moving and he exhaled heavily.

"What the fuck was that?" he was panting and smiling, sweaty like he had run for miles.

You caressed his thighs, your eyes wandering over his chest and stomach, and the trail of dark hair that went down his navel - all covered with cum.

"Good?" you asked with a proud grin.

"I think I died for a minute there, baby," he said like it was the highest praise. And maybe it was.

"I'm going to pull out, get you cleaned up," you said softly after a couple of minutes. He nodded dreamily, letting out a grunt once the dildo was out.

You were thorough and gentle, kissing and caressing as you wiped his skin with a wet cloth. It took a little while with how messy you had been with the lube situation and how hard Carmy had come.

"Look," he gestured at the scratches you left on his hip, bright red lines on pale skin.

"Shit, sorry" you leaned over to kiss them too. "Does it hurt?"

"A little. I kinda dig it though," he said with a smirk. "Might get a tattoo there later," he teased, and you had to silence a needy, embarrassing sound.

You climbed up his body and kissed him, all tongue and fervor, your fingers buried deep in his curls. You had taken the harness off and arousal was wetting the inside of your thigh.

"Please tell me we'll do this again," you said against his lips.

"You liked it too?" he asked, a little surprised.

"I'm fucking soaked, Carm," you confessed, too tired to try to be delicate about it. "Loved making you feel that good, cum that hard..."

He hummed contentedly, tracing lines on your back with his fingers. "Any notes?"

"I might have to use a toy when we're done next time but other than that, no," you said honestly.

"Not now?" he asked, frowning.

Before Carmy, you were okay with going to bed frustrated, or rubbing your clit furiously in the bathroom to get a quick orgasm after some mediocre sex. This wasn't that. It was fucking great sex. However-

"I don't want to move," you replied, snuggling closer to Carmy's side.

"Oh, I get that," he chuckled; it was a weary sound, he was struggling to stay awake.

You felt so warm and comfortable. You didn’t want to break the lovely snowglobe of tenderness you were both in to grab a fucking toy from the drawer.

After a moment of thought, Carmy angled one of his legs in your direction, his muscular thigh now between your own. He nudged upwards, smearing your arousal on his own skin, silently proposing a solution to your problem.

"Can I-?" you asked anyway, your hips moving forwards, a shaky exhale leaving your lips when your clit touched his skin.

"Mhmm," he nodded, capturing your lips in a kiss, drowning your moans as you started riding his thigh in earnest.

You were so worked up it didn't take long, a few frantic thrusts and you were shaking and rolling your eyes.

"Carm," you gasped, and he held you through it, one hand on the small of your back and the other caressing your face. His half lidded eyes stared as you finally came, shivering in his hold.

"Thank you," he whispered between kisses. "I mean it. You were- It was everything."

You smiled groggily.

"I loved it. I loved it, Carm," you repeated. "I love you," you managed to say before falling asleep, safe in his arms.

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[ourstaturestouchtheskies]

web-weaving — eldest daughter syndrome

Repose – John Singer Sargent // Eldest Daughter – Isabel Pless // Old Soul – The Highwomen // I Miss Her and I Blame You – MALINDA // Goodbye – MARINA // Surface Pressure – Encanto

Violet Sargent – John Singer Sargent // Study for Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose – John Singer Sargent // My Ego Dies at the End – Jensen McRae // You're On Your Own, Kid – Taylor Swift // The Hardest Part – Bre Kennedy and Hadley Kennary// Older Than I Am – Lennon Stella // seven – Taylor Swift

The Black Brook – John Singer Sargent // Eldest Daughter – Isabel Pless // 26 – Carol Ades // Eldest Daughter – Isabel Pless // You're Losing Me – Taylor Swift // champagne problems – Taylor Swift

Girl with a Sickle – John Singer Sargent // The Breakfast Table – John Singer Sargent // Surface Pressure – Encanto // Older Than I Am – Lennon Stella // Control – Bre Kennedy // Surface Pressure – Encanto // Old Soul – The Highwomen

A Dinner Table at Night – John Singer Sargent // this is me trying – Taylor Swift // Let the Rain – Sara Bareilles // The Hardest Part – Bre Kennedy and Hadley Kennary // Half Truths – JOSEPH // this is me trying – Taylor Swift

[storytellering]

Breakneck speed.

[arom-antix]

Stars, I have seen them fall

Huge credit to @my-private-tsukuyomi and their Stardust AU for the inspiration for this! Open for better resolution

[xero013]

Vampire!Ingo and Elesa (🔺⚡) rkgk

Request by @sydphony

[smilesrobotlover]

AO3

Next>>

Chapter 1- hello again

Link had made plenty of mistakes in his life. Some of them were small, futile, and had very little consequence. Others were big, dangerous, and almost unforgivable. He couldn’t count how many times he’d almost lost his life due to his own foolishness, how many times he’d upset someone he cared about due to his temper, or how many times he was met with scorn due to his own choices. His life was riddled with mistakes, all having consequences that affected him one way or another, with some being forgotten, never to be spoken of again.

That mistake he made… he thought it wouldn’t be serious, he thought it would be one of the few that were forgotten. Sure it was a serious mistake, but it was one time. Surely the goddesses would be merciful on him just this once, right? Surely they would forgive what he did. He understood it was wrong, he’ll never do it again.

He hoped that they would forget about when he made love at twilight.

It was a moment of weakness for him. The girl who he spent his entire adventure with, who stuck at his side, who saved him, who he loved, was dead. Or so he thought. He killed the demon king with righteous anger swelling within him, grief gripping his heart so tightly it physically hurt, wanting to kill the man who killed her.

It was only after the demon king was dead when he discovered that she was alright. When he saw a familiar silhouette among the light spirits, he couldn’t help himself sprinting towards her, pumping his exhausted legs to where she was sitting to just make sure that she was real. That she was alright.

And she was. She was alive and… well… different. The light spirits removed the curse upon her that turned her into an imp, changing her into a beautiful twilight princess. He remembered when he first saw her. She was tall, with such loving eyes that stared back at him, her hair tied in the front, and her face… His brain blanked when he first saw her, and he didn’t say anything. He just stared.

“What? Say something!” She finally broke the silence, with a familiar teasing grin forming on her lips. “Am I so beautiful you have no words left?”

It was her, she was real. This was the Midna he spent so much time with, the Midna he fell in love with, the Midna he wanted so desperately to protect because of all she did for him. He smiled a relieved smile, and hugged her tightly, crying into her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him and cried as well. They were both alright.

Zelda arrived shortly after to be with her friend, talking about what happened and what should happen next. Due to Link’s injuries from Ganondorf, they decided to head to Kakariko where he could rest, and they spent a long time together.

When Midna and Link were alone, they would talk for hours, quietly so no one would know about her, and one night, they got a little carried away. They were sitting on Link’s bed at night, and they exchanged kisses, and they snuggled up next to each other, and kissed again. One thing led to another, and it turned into a huge mistake. After what had happened, Midna started avoiding him, whenever she saw him, there being a deep sorrow in her sunset eyes. Link didn’t know why she was suddenly acting like this, but he knew he was at fault. He should’ve stopped, he should’ve slowed down and got her off of him, he thought she wanted to do it, but clearly not. He was afraid he put too much pressure on her. He was just so happy that she was alive, that Ganondorf was dead, that finally he was able to have peace, and he wasn’t thinking. He tried to talk to her about it but she’d just brush it off, so he stopped bringing it up.

Finally, when Link was healed enough, Midna said that she needed to return to the Twilight Realm, so they traveled to the Gerudo desert, his heart hurting from having to say goodbye to Midna. She may not think of him that way anymore, but she was still a dear friend to him, and he still cared about her deeply. And though they could visit each other, it was always sad to see a friend go.

But sad did not describe the feeling he had when the mirror was shattered, with Midna gone forever. That feeling was sheer agony, the worst pain he’s ever had to endure in his life. It almost ended him, he almost changed into someone unrecognizable, and thoughts plagued his mind over it. Was it something he did? Was she that upset over that night? And what ate away at him the most: would she have a child because of that night? The thought of her giving birth without him being able to support her killed him on the inside. He felt like a complete failure, he hated himself, and he wished that none of it ever happened.

So he prayed to the goddesses to be merciful on him. Just this once. To not let Midna suffer because of his foolishness, to simply let that mistake be. He would never do it again. Just please… don’t let anything come of it… please…

Two years later had passed, and so did some of the pain. With help he was able to recover, his dear pa tried to reassure him that Midna didn’t leave because of him, that she still cared for him. It helped, even a little. And so he slowly began to move on from Midna, move on from that night. He never told it to anyone, hoping that it would be forgotten by him and the goddesses. No one else needed to know about the best and worst moment of his life. Though he did wonder, even though it hurt, if he had a child out there somewhere, a child that he could never give his love to.

But his question was answered one night.

It was pouring rain with distant thunder, and Link was tossing and turning for hours. He couldn’t do anything to get his mind to relax and finally sleep, so he let out a frustrated sigh and stared at the ceiling. Normally rainy nights helped him sleep, but for some reason that wasn’t the case tonight. He closed his eyes and let out another sigh. He knew it was better for him to stay laying down with his eyes closed, but being alone with his thoughts was almost maddening.

He listened to the pouring rain outside, the different sounds it made as it hit his tree house made him grateful that he had a roof over his head, and a roof over Epona’s head. Being wet was the worst feeling for him. He rolled over and tried to let the rain soothe him, and it almost worked until—

Thump thump thump.

He opened his eyes at the unnatural sound, sitting up and staring at his door, slowing his breathing so he could hear better. Did he imagine that? Who would be banging at his door in the middle of the night?

He flinched when there were three more loud thumps at his door, confirming that he did not imagine it in his half asleep state. He was wide awake now, and got up as his heart grew worried over who could be at his door. Was it Rusl? Was he alright? Was something wrong with his daughter? Or was it Illia? Was she alright? Though they rarely spoke anymore, she occasionally came by when she needed comfort. He reached for his door and let out a breath to calm himself, opening the door quickly.

But who he saw sent his heart into his throat.

It was Midna, she was standing there, a desperate look in her eyes. Her clothes were soaked as she stood in the rain, and the two were silent for a moment as they stared at each other.

Midna… after two years of accepting that he’d never see her again, here she was. She got much taller, almost double his height, her jewelry was more extravagant, but she herself, she still took his breath away.

Finally after a moment of silence, he finally found his words.

“Midna?”

Her breath hitched, and she shifted a bit, a bundle in her arms that he finally noticed. His heart stopped when he saw a child, no older than two, crying silently in her arms. He was clearly a twili, having bright red hair, dark blue skin, and black markings. He looked like Midna, but when he opened his eyes, it was without a doubt that they matched his own. Gray-blue eyes stared back at him in fear. For Din’s sake…

“Link,” Midna breathed out, “I… desperately need your help.”

Link stared at the boy in silence for a long moment, but he finally got ahold of himself. He took a deep breath and gave room for them to head inside.

“Y’all will get pneumonia if you stay out for any longer,” he said gently, gesturing to his home.

Midna smiled and a relieved tear rolled down her cheek as she slowly moved inside. Link got dry blankets, ignoring his thumping heart. The child was cautious around Link as he tried to dry him off. He stared at Link with confusion and awe, his mouth agape as the rag Link was using to wipe him down slid off his head. Link paused when he noticed his left arm covered in bandages, and he gave Midna a look, but she did not return his gaze, she just stared at a corner in the room.

“What’s your name, little one?” Link tried to ease the pressure, being as gentle as he could with the child.

The kid looked at Midna, then back at Link. He had fear in his eyes, Link could tell.

“You’re safe here, I promise… What is your name?”

The child looked down, and it took a moment for his sweet little voice to speak up.

“Um… Kowi,” he mumbled.

“Kori?” Link repeated, just to make sure he heard him right. Kori nodded and Link smiled. “That’s a lovely name.”

Kori smiled, dimples that matched Link’s appearing on his cheeks, only making it more obvious that he was his own. “Tank you, uh,” he looked up at Midna and she gave him a reassuring look. “Whasis… youw name?”

“I’m Link.”

“Nink? Um… tat’s a— um— nowvwy name.”

Link chuckled at the little boy trying to speak. He barely understood him, but it was the cutest thing in the world. “Thank you.”

Kori nodded and rubbed his eyes. “Mommy towd me stowies ‘bout Nink.”

“Really?” Link looked over at Midna, who continued to avoid his gaze. He sighed and returned his attention to his arm. He reached for the bandage but Kori froze and pulled back. His eyes were full of fear again. “What happened there?”

No one said anything this time. He looked at Midna and stood up.

“Midna… What’s going on?”

Midna closed her eyes and finally looked at him.

“It’s… He’s…”

“My son?”

Midna looked up with shame written on her face, and Link’s anger quickly went away. She shouldn’t be ashamed…

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, returning to Kori’s injured arm, “let me clean this, ok?”

He finished drying off Kori and changed his bandages as gently as possible. Kori stopped talking, only his soft cries and the sound of the rain against the roof was heard. As Link cleaned and redressed Kori’s arm, he noticed that it was a nasty wound, a slash mark trailing up his arm, and from the looks of it, it was fairly new. Who could’ve done this to a child? Kori whimpered and pulled back as Link tried to clean it.

“Sh, it’s alright Kori. The pain is only temporary,” he said gently. He wrapped up the arm and gave it a slight pat. “See? All done! You were brave, little one, good job.”

Kori sniffed and rubbed his eyes again, and Link frowned as his tired little eyes looked back at him. He didn’t know if Twili ever slept, so it must’ve been a Hylian thing for him.

“Here, let’s get you a nice place to sleep, ok?”

Kori watched Link as he set up a comfy bed made of blankets, gesturing for Kori to sleep in it. The boy stared for a long moment until Midna got up and nudged him towards the bed. With his mother’s reassurance, Kori wobbled over to the bed and laid down. Link grabbed his goat plushie Billy and stared at it for a moment. He knelt down next to the bundled up boy and handed the plushie to him.

“This is my friend Billy,” Link bounced the plushie around with Kori watching, amused. “He always gives me comfort when I need it.”

Kori shyly grabbed Billy and snuggled up against him. He closed his eyes and smiled.

“Tank you,” was all he said before he fell asleep.

Link smiled at him, he was a sweet little boy. He stood up, and the heavy situation returned to him. He walked to where Midna sat, still and unmoving and took a deep breath

“Midna… I,” he started, trying to think of what to say to her, trying to think of something to keep the conversation going, just trying to talk to her again, but all he could muster up was, “Hello again.”

Midna stared at him for a moment before smiling.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

Link pursed his lips and decided to get everything off his chest.

“Clearly my actions have hurt you Midna, and I’m so sorry…. I’m so sorry about that night. If I could take it back I would!”

Midna’s expressionless face changed to confusion.

“What?”

“That boy… he’s ours… because of what we did…. And I’m so sorry… I know I hurt you and I wasn't there for you when you had him and I’m really sorry and I should’ve stopped and–”

Midna raised a hand to stop him, standing up and stepping closer to him.

“Link, do not blame yourself for what happened that night. It… wasn’t your fault alone…”

“Alone?”

Midna sat down, her head hung. “I didn’t do anything to stop it either… I knew that I needed to break the mirror, and I tried to keep my distance from you but… I didn’t. You didn’t know what I was going to do.”

Link stared ahead, not feeling any form of relief from that. He still felt confused, guilty, and almost sick to his stomach.

“Did that night mean anything to you?” He asked quietly.

Midna stared at him, her mouth slightly open.

“It meant everything to me.”

“Then why did you break the mirror?”

Midna looked down. “You know why. Deep down you know why. You saw what happened when Ganondorf went through the mirror, you saw what happened when Zant found him,” she sighed and sat back down. “Shadow and light cannot mix.”

Link looked over to where Kori, his son, laid asleep.

“Clearly shadow and light can mix,” he said quietly. Midna said nothing and rested her head against her hand. She looked exhausted, both physically and mentally. Link wanted to help her, but a few more things bothered him.

“How did you get here Midna?”

“I can't say. It must stay a secret.”

Link nodded, he figured that was the answer. Now for a more important question.

“What happened to his arm?”

Midna buried her face in her hands, her exhaustion more apparent. Link walked close to her and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, hey, It’s ok, he’s safe now. I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

Link stayed by Midna for a while, rubbing circles on her back. After a moment, she sniffed and opened her mouth as if to say something, but she was interrupted by a sudden shiver.

“Here let’s get you into some dry clothes…” Link said, noticing how she was still sopping wet.

Link quickly dried her off and offered some of his clothes, even though most of them wouldn’t have fit. He was somehow able to find something for her to wear that would fit her large frame, and when she was dressed he sat down, waiting for her to explain herself.

“I…. I hoped that nothing would come of that night,” she finally said after some silence, “because if something happened, then leaving this world behind would’ve been nearly impossible for me to do.”

“But something did happen.”

Midna nodded, not looking at him. Link sighed, the goddesses weren’t merciful to him. His prayers were not answered. He wasn’t there for Midna, he didn’t watch his son grow up, he wasn’t there when he said his first word, when he took his first step, when his true personality began to shine through. To Kori, Link was a stranger, not a father. And Midna had to raise him all by herself. A lump in his throat formed and his stomach felt hollow.

He should’ve stopped that night.

“As princess of the twilight realm, when I’m supposed to have a child, she should be a female, so that the monarchy can continue. I’m the only woman in the Twilight Realm, I’m not sure if you knew that.”

Link tilted his head. He did not know that. It would explain why he’d only ever met male twili besides Midna, and why the only female was the ruler. It almost reminded him of the Gerudo, which was rumored to be a tribe of women except for the one male born every one-hundred years.

“When I gave birth to Kori,” Midna continued, “he was a boy, and he wasn’t fully Twili… that ended up scaring some people. They thought that he was going to bring destruction to us.”

Link’s heart sank. She didn’t have to say, he knew.

“They hurt him.”

“I’ve been trying to find a way back here so he could be safe… but as soon as I found a way… he… got hurt badly by my advisor.”

Her breath hitched at the memory, and Link grabbed her hand. She smiled at him, a small but genuine smile.

“He’s safe now. You both are,” he reassured.

Midna stared into his eyes for a long moment.

“I missed you Link.”

He sucked in a breath. He’s missed Midna more than anything. He wanted nothing more than to see her again, to talk to her again, to tell her about all of the things he’s experienced. But now that she was here, he didn’t find anything to say. He didn’t make a move to hug her, to cry, he just felt… awkward. Midna’s smile went down when he said nothing, and she gently rubbed his hand.

“I know I hurt you, and it’s not right of me to ask this of you but… I was hoping that Kori could stay here… he’ll be safer here, with you.”

“Safer here? Yeah I would never hurt him, but I can’t say the same for the rest of Ordon. How do you know that everyone here will accept him? How do you know that they won’t be scared of him too?”

Midna leaned in closer. “Because they’re your family Link, you have a better influence over them than I over my people.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Just because I’m the princess doesn’t mean they listen to me all the time. It’s complicated but clearly I couldn’t do anything to protect him from my advisors. Your family loves you, they trust you, they’ll try to understand you.”

Link listened for a moment, but pulled his hand away when a heavy realization plagued his mind.

“Midna… we’re not married.”

Midna raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“I don’t know how it is in the twilight realm but having a child before marriage is a sin here. I know my pa wouldn’t hurt Kori, but…” fear gripped Link’s heart at the thought of Rusl’s reaction towards Kori. He swallowed hard and shook his head. “There’s a lot of problems here, Midna.”

Midna looked down and chewed on her lip, thinking.

“I… I know… I know there are a lot of problems but… I can’t let him stay in the twilight realm.”

Though he felt like Ordon wasn’t safe, Link understood why the twilight realm was more dangerous. As a half Hylian and half Twili, Kori really wouldn’t be safe anywhere. He’d probably be labeled as a monster all his life because of who he was, especially after the twilight invasion. Link let out a breath and stared at his sleeping son.

“I understand…”

Midna stared at him for a moment while Link stared ahead, avoiding her gaze. She scooted a bit closer to him and tapped his shoulder lightly.

“Hey, I’m not going to let you deal with this alone.”

Link looked up at Midna, a sliver of hope forming within him.

“We both made the choice that night, Link, neither one of us should deal with it alone,” she got closer and stared into his eyes while Link’s heart thumped against his chest. “We’ll raise him together.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, and the past two years separated withered away for them. When they were together now, it was almost as if they were never apart.

“I can't abandon the twilight realm, but I’ll try to visit whenever I can. I just need Kori to be safe.”

Link looked down and their clasped hands, then at the sleeping child. An overwhelming feeling of protectiveness came over him, and he nodded. “I understand Midna… I promise I’ll keep him safe.”

Midna smiled. “I knew you would. Trust me, I wouldn’t ask this of you if nothing bad happened but—“

“Don’t worry about it. I’m his father, he’s my responsibility now.”

Midna stared at him for a long moment, then she leaned in, Link’s heart nearly jumping out of his chest. He wanted so badly to show how much he missed her, he wanted to scream to the heavens on how happy he was to see her again, but… he felt too much pain for it to be perfectly fine, and he turned his head away.

“I’m sorry Midna… there’s a lot more we need to talk about.”

Midna let out a sigh and smiled.

“That’s fine, I’m staying for a while anyways. Let’s talk.”

[luck-of-the-drawings]

!!! FLASHING LIGHTS WARNING!!! [IM NOT FUCKIN AROUND!!]

REACHED THE CUSP OF 'THIS MAY NEVER BE ABSOLUTELY FINISHED N IF I DONT SHOW IT NOW, IT WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY.' SO HERE, A PROJECT IVE BEEN ORBITING AROUND UHH SINCE 2021 OR SO.

[cowchickenbeefpork]

The doc and the has-been.

[clowningaroundmars]

prowlerbyte hcs

ok..... yall got me. you did. i ship prowlerbyte now 😅 and i'd like to throw out some Thoughts about them bc damnit if this ship doesn't have some Flavor to it that i'd like to share with you all 🤌

both margo and miles g here are from earth 42 tho bc i think miles g has been thru Enough and he deserves someone in his corner in his own universe, besides his family members

LOTS of words under the cut ↓

♡ weirdgirl nerd x edgyboy nerd 100%… you just KNOW IT. miles is absolutely a geek either for comics or anime and he only opens up to his closest friends to let them see that side of him, no one else. margo brings that side out of him often when they meet up (but miles is still p reserved if anyone else is with them)

♡ margo is a fantastic singer and hums mind-blowing runs as easily as she breathes and miles absolutely loves it. when she's depressed, she sings a lot less so whenever she DOES sing that's how he knows she's in a good mood. he loves having her over bc he gets to pull out uncle aaron's old secondhand record player and place rnb and 90's hiphop vinyls on it, playing soulful music that she hums to as they parallel-play or do homework together

♡ when margo first convinced miles to let her do his hair, he was hella worried that his mom would disapprove and chastise him once she saw but she was surprisingly very supportive of it, although a bit hesitant. eventually she was grateful she didnt have to braid her son's hair as often (being a single parent is exhausting enough lol)

♡ rio42 ofc had the same reaction to margo as rio1610 when she 1st met gwen, but when margo eventually started showing up more and more to hang out with the morales fam (and aaron too lol), she grew on rio. they both keep a close eye on miles and try to keep him going towards the right path

♡ in their universe they both go to visions and even have a class together, and they are both very very academically competitive. rio doesn't need to stay on miles' ass about his grades bc margo is right there taunting him with an A+ on a test every single time

♡ they actually ACTUALLY study together in the library or in miles' room during study sessions. neither of them can afford to fall off wrt their grades and they both have big dreams they wanna achieve: margo wants to become a hardlight technician and apply for oscorp (much to miles' chagrin), and miles wants to continue his engineering and robotics career so he can provide for his whole family

♡ margo's parents constantly fighting means she is often over at miles' house more than he is at hers. it actually took her an embarrassingly long amount of time to finally invite him over because she never wanted her parents to know he even existed, let alone actually meet him at all. miles was at first kinda offended she didn't want him to meet her parents even after they got together but when he heard them arguing in the background during a call one day, he finally Understood

♡ after he found out about her crappy home life (and also secretly told rio), she was welcome to stay more often at his place. she has a blanket, a few clothes and several diff books and console games lying around in his room

♡ it honestly also took them both a ridiculously long time to finally start dating. everyone around them shipped them but they remained friends for a long time bc miles was just too closed off and scared to let anyone into his private life like that. also i hc they are both on the ace spectrum but don't realize it until later (listen i see purple characters and i HAVE to wave the ace wand on them ok 😭)

♡ margo is sometimes frustrated at miles for being so secretive and hiding his emotions behind walls, as goofy and dorky as he can be. she wishes he would just come out and be more honest about his feelings but understands that after his dad's passing, its harder for him to communicate his emotions

♡ she was the one who asked him out first, actually. he was beating around the bush way too much and so she finally put her foot down and initiated the relationship

♡ in public or with strangers they are: sunshine x sunshine protector. in private or with family n friends they are: "EXCUSE ME! miles asked for no pickles ☝️" esp since margo is the extrovert and he's the introvert.

♡ miles is actually p jealous and protective of margo and she finds that hilarious.

"i don't need any protecting, babe. i am a certified badass," margo says, flipping her box braids.

miles laughs, winding boxing wraps around his hands and standing in front of his giant punching bag. he looks over at his girlfriend sitting on a bean bag, with her adorable kitten t-shirt and fluffy sweater and grins even wider. "yeah… aight, sure thing."

margo scoffs, noticing his line of sight and looking very offended. "i may look cute and unassuming but that's exactly what i want our enemies to think! it gives me an advantage!"

miles hums, nodding. "mhm. advantage to do what, exactly?"

margo throws an empty soda can at him, which miles easily dodges as he laughs harder.

♡ it's funny, bc on the outside they seem like the stereotypical traditional straight relationship with a macho boy and sweetheart girl. but in reality they're both sarcastic snippy geeks who can both throw down in any verbal argument. and miles adores his gf, he's completely whipped for her. lets her paint his nails and everything, and if anyone tries to make fun of him for it, he doubles down and threatens to fight them over it

♡ they are THAT couple that wears lowkey matching outfits every once in a while. they actually enjoy shopping together which was a relief for both of them bc miles LIVES just to go sneaker shopping and margo absolutely loves trying new things on in the dressing room. theyre also both fashionistas in their own ways and love to accessorize. they swap accessories a lot

♡ whenever they hit up a bookstore, they are the first to head right on over to the manga section. right afterwards, they make a beeline over to the science fiction section and compare their purchases together after leaving

♡ miles is absolutely the "idc what my girl wears bc i know how to fight" boyfriend. margo doesn't go out in revealing outfits or anything, but looking a little TOO adorable in a dystopian city can sometimes paint a target on your back and so miles makes sure she's with him at all times if she wants to put her braids up into heart buns or wear a dress outside

♡ any hardware or mechanical problem that margo has, she takes it straight to miles. miles takes any software or coding issues he has to margo. if those software issues have anything to do with his prowler gear, however… he tries to isolate the issue and explain in vague terms what the problem is to avoid telling his gf he's actually the prowler

♡ no, he has not revealed to margo that he is the prowler yet. he's terrified to see her face when she inevitably finds out anyways, just KNOWING it would doom their relationship to a breakup if she ever figured it out. he does everything in his power to keep her from finding out his secret, even if it means disappointing her when he misses out on dates they set together

♡ they are both total champions at whatever multiplayer video game they get hooked onto. their personal faves are mmorpgs and battle royale games, but they are UNBELIEVABLY competitive when it comes to party games and even board games. they absolutely wipe the floor if they get to team up together

♡ tbqh they're the EXACT level of nerdy that they would consider playing video games in their separate homes as a date. "mmorpg and chill babe?" miles texts margo sometimes as a joking way to ask her on an online date. every minute they spend on voicechat as they kick digital ass together counts as quality time for sure

♡ even tho she's kind of embarrassed about it, margo has an absolutely huge plushie and figurine collection. she was worried miles would judge her SUPER HARD for her lowkey (highkey) special interest in anime figures when he 1st came over to her room, but immediately felt relieved when miles practically flew up to a rare figure she got secondhand from a japanese seller online and started ooohing and aaahing about it

♡ he actually tries to put aside whatever he earns prowling around the city for his mom first. then whatever's left over goes right to margo. he likes taking her out shopping and letting her pick out two or three things and seeing her beam like a sunrise before giving him a kiss on the cheek

♡ miles tries to hide his prowling behind the excuse of getting a job with his uncle at the family auto shop. every time he has a job to do or needs to leave suddenly, he blames it on "an emergency/new car job at the garage". margo eventually starts hating the word "garage"

♡ get either of these 2 to start talking abt their special interest, and it will be like Infodump City in there in 2 secs flat. they listen to each other's infodumping with hearts in their eyes, ESPECIALLY miles. margo goes "hey can i just rant to you about my new interest rq" and he goes "yes ma'am 🥰"

♡ everyone thinks margo is the one who cooks and cleans but hell no. miles is a neat freak whose room is the total opposite of margo's and he spends a lot of time alone at home when his mom is working a double shift and his uncle is out trying to secure another job for them. he knows how to cook like a damn chef by the time he's 16 (and also rio42 is not a toxic boymom. she will not raise any lazy needy son, her boy WILL know how to do laundry, cook meals and wash the damn dishes!)

♡ margo on the other hand tries to avoid the kitchen as often as possible and gets panic attacks when having to clean anywhere else but her own room bc of bad memories of having to sweep up broken glass after hearing her parents have violent fights that left the apartment in tatters. she never got to learn how to cook bc they never taught her, either

♡ margo is actually p traumatized from her parents' constant hateful fighting that she tries to squash down or hide behind a confident mask. but sometimes it pops up in ugly ways like when miles accidentally slams a cupboard door too loudly or a sarcastic comment sounds a little too bitter. her knee-jerk reaction is to always distance herself from miles a bit as a coping mechanism, which they had to work through

♡ miles' own grief and loss traumatized him beyond belief too ofc. after his dad's passing, his anxiety grows and he becomes more withdrawn, easily tired, and forgetful. it becomes worse after he becomes the prowler, bc dipping into the NYC underworld every so often gives p much anyone a healthy dose of paranoia. plus it takes some time away from his gf on top of all of that.

♡ if they're ever at parties or get-togethers at all, its always margo initiating conversations and meeting with people, making introductions and chatting happily. she always happens to have a quiet, chill miles-shaped shadow with her the whole time

♡ if margo was going to date miles, he told her one time, she was GOING to learn how to dance bachata and salsa. throw in a lil reggaeton in there as they get older and rio becomes a TINY bit more chill with seeing them on the dancefloor. they actually become much better at dancing together as they practice at family reunions and birthday parties

♡ miles carries around plush keychains and other trinkets that remind him of margo. he's a total sap when it comes to her, even if he tries to hide just how much he loves her sometimes. his phone's lockscreen is something dark or aesthetic like a city skyline or whatever but then when he unlocks it, margo is always his wallpaper

♡ aaron likes margo, he really does. he worries that miles doesn't have enough friends but he's happy that his nephew has a gf that is genuinely good for him. they all have a great time together whenever they do get downtime to chill together, like playing cards or helping aaron clean the garage

♡ that being said, aaron loves to pretend to sabotage their relationship as a running joke and watch miles get all riled up about it. it is hilarious to him, never gets old.

they're giving the garage connected to the autoshop its bimonthly deep clean just ahead of the yearly inspection.

it's a sunday, the only day of the week that the shop is closed for business and miles is on corner duty once they get down to the concrete floor. he's tasked with using the short hard brush attached to a long wooden handle to scrub the dust and grime out of the neglected corners. margo is scrubbing the middle with a much bigger sturdier widebroom, and aaron--being the tallest ofc-- has the duster on an extendable handle, swiping through the metal rafters and high shelves.

he notices miles struggling a bit with a mysterious stain in one corner, repeatedly attacking it before finally crouching down to shove the brush even harder against the floor with his hands.

aaron casually sneaks backwards and catches margo's attention with a smirk and a point of his chin. she swings her gaze around to her slightly frustrated boyfriend crouched down into a corner and starts giggling.

aaron grins as he suddenly says, "so yeah, thats why i got miles here on corner duty, usually. y'know being a little guy and all, he can do all that that someone as tall as me can't really do anymore yanno what i'm sayin? he's real good in those small spaces. that's why i'm up here, dustin' these rafters."

scandalized, miles springs back up with a "hey!!" and a withering glare shot their way. margo bursts out laughing.

♡ miles is the little spoon and margo is the big spoon, fight me abt it. his fave cuddling position is actually when his arms are wrapped around her and her cheek is laid against his head. otherwise, he loves his weighted blanket, and margo loves her warm mattress ♡ when they're home alone and on the couch watching movies, his back is usually to her side as he half-lays on her, using her arm as a pillow

♡ margo is def not a sports kind of girl but she tries for her bf. he and aaron are very much into basketball which she tries to keep up with just to join in on their convos. she always attends miles' boxing matches tho, ofc. she actually likes watching boxing matches in general! aaron gives her some old tapes of his own matches when he was younger and that's how margo gets into televised mma fights and ufc. she's always cheering for miles the loudest in the audience

♡ miles actually uses margo sometimes in his workouts. the proudest day of his life was when he was able to have margo laying on his back as he did pushups, and he made it to 10 before tiring himself out. she's the one holding his feet down as he does sit-ups and ab crunches. she tries to join in on his workouts too, and gets p good with the speedbag relatively quickly!

♡ miles-- being the paranoid guy he is-- happens to be the one to teach margo all of the effective self-defense moves. she thinks he's always exaggerating the danger out on the streets but she can't lie sometimes; whenever she's out past sunset with her keys in between her knuckles, she's just a TINY bit glad that miles taught her how to escape a rear chokehold

♡ margo is the soc media girl who is embarassingly online and posts about anything and everything of her life. new website coded? met a stray cat on her way over to miles'? bought a new manga? invented a cool gadget? they always show up in her followers soc media feed. she tries to get miles to pose for pics with her but he's mostly content to just be the guy behind the camera tbh. his own soc media account is pretty boring and bare since he rarely ever posts. he's got other things on his mind, errands to run

♡ the one and only time margo has ever seen miles cry was right after his dad died. the whole neighborhood got the news and she ran straight over to miles' apartment the minute she could. they climbed into his bed (the only time rio didn't reprimand them for it) and he just sobbed his heart out while they held each other for a real long time. she brought over homework and notes when he stayed home from school to recuperate

[possiblyfunny]

Hello again, fellas. (And to whoever is actually interested in looking at my weird little AU-) Sanctuary has been on my mind lately and uhhh, I’d like to introduce you to some new characters!

Meet the Eventide Duo: REI and KAI!

I, like with Aster and Del, have never drawn them before, and because I honestly didn’t have it in me to do two full-body drawings with color and everything, doodling them was the next best thing. I’ve been thinking about these two a lot and just really wanted to get them down as a start. Soooo—this is their first pass and things are subject to change! (Please excuse the messiness-)

Rei (the Red) and Kai (the Blue) come from—okay this is kinda funny now that I’m writing it out—their AU was inspired by an FNF fan song that I heard awhile back. It was something like “Frostbite but Blue.” The person who made the song (I don’t remember their name off the top of my head) said they were going to post the lore, but as far as I know they never did, so my brain kinda took the concept and ran with it—making it into my own story. (Sorry to whoever that was-)

Rei is the fledgling god of the Sun and the Second Coming of Arceus. He ascended to godhood after his untimely death, returning to earth to protect the one he loves. Rei may look like a massive grump, but in reality, he's a ray of sunshine and one of the most warm-hearted and protective people you'll ever meet. Kai is still a Pokémon Trainer, but he’s also Rei's singular devotee. He's honestly pretty quiet for a Blue, if not a bit high-strung, but he's loyal and sweet, even if he has a bit of a hard time showing it.

The both of them worked together to survive the violent floods and rainfall that devastated their original home, and now live a quiet life together in Sanctuary, going on little adventures here and there to try and reclaim the life they lost bit by bit.

(Okay, time to tag my one fan. @100nebulas , I think you said you wanted more Sanctuary content in general that one time, so I guess you’re gonna be eternally tagged in these lmao. Hope you enjoy :])