#anyway. weird that I have to make this point but yeah

[waynes-multiverse]

FINALLY!!!! Diving right in 🤓

He shook himself off like a dog and pulled off his baseball cap.

That description made me snort because it’s so fucking fitting for this guy 😂👌

And seriously, this dude can’t take a fucking hint to literally save his life. Jesus… Bro, she ain’t that into you. Get the memo. The way he kept calling her baby and didn’t pick up how fucking weird that is, is soooo delusional. I actually think he needs mental help at this point 🙈

Anyways, can’t wait to see you go, Cujo!!

“How are you going to kill him?” you asked after a moment.

“Bag over the head. He’s passed out. He wouldn’t even feel it. Are you sure that’s what-”

Okay, I might need mental help too. This should not have turned me on 😂😂 (But I’m self-aware, so we’re good???)

On a serious note, her history with Cujo is horrifying. What a fucking creep. Slipping pills into drinks of underage girls? Yeah, he deserves to die, and I totally get why she’d wanna do it. I always thought the most fitting punishment for guys like that was what Ramsey Bolton did to Theon Greyjoy in GoT… ^^

“I won’t lose any sleep over him. You can do something for me though.” You sighed, nodding once. “Go back to the store and buy some extra large garbage bags and some duct tape, got it?”

“Um, yeah. Are you-”

“Y/N. We’re on the clock. We’ll talk later,” he said, kissing your temple. “Now go.”

And God, I’m melting here with Russell, the killing machine, taking charge and taking care of her. He’s soft for *us* 🫠❤️‍🔥

Michelle, you’re making me question my morals and they weren’t that high to begin with 😂

Colter rolling his eyes, an uncharacteristic move.

Is this you commenting on TV!Colter? Dead 😂💀

“Sweetie,” said Russell, closing his eyes. “Owen should not have made it out alive and the fact he did isn’t good.” 

Oh, don’t sweetie us, Russ... Loved how she wasn’t taking any of his crap and called him out on his shit!! 👏 This was sooo good and I was cheering her on all the way 👇👇👇

“I think I finally understand how you’re so perfect but alone. You live this life like you’re this happy go lucky guy but it’s a mask. All you actually see is the dark side of it. Of everything. You are more than happy to step into my dark side but you won’t let me see yours? You wouldn’t let me kill Owen. You won’t let me help clean it up. Even when it’s because of me. You have to always be the hero. Honestly, thinking about it, it’s been all my shit we’ve talked about. All you say is your got a dark past but you haven’t shared diddly squat. Is this how it’s going to be Russell? Because frankly, I want more than that. I told you I don’t need you to do things for me, I just need you to help me do them.”

The fact his reply was “Maybe this was a mistake” made me want to slap his goddamn head off! Whyyyyyy, you emotionally unavailable recluse?!?!

Gaaaaah, I think the most frustrating part is that he tried so hard to convince her he’s the one for her and he’ll be there, and at the first sign of trouble, he fucking walks it back. How exactly is she supposed to trust another word out of his mouth? Grrr

If that’s how Russell wanted to end things, fine.

I seriously wanna hit him so fucking hard for being such a big idiot!!! God, the self-worth issues with this man is almost another Deanism 🙈

He used your kitchen as a base of operations and you let him crash in the guest room.

Awww, he really does like her 🥰 The fact he’s willingly staying in a house with another person says a lot lol

No, instead stood Russell in a trim black suit, his hair slicked back and a bouquet of orange and red flowers in his hands.

*sighs* Alright, Fluffy, get in… 🫠 And points for being honest. He really took a long look in the mirror and opened up to her big time! And on the other hand, her point of wanting too much too soon is also true. They have known each other for only a short amount of time. They’ve already shared more with each other than people during the first ten dates lol

“Oh, who’s afraid of little old me?”

I have that song constantly in my head anyways!!! Can you not?! Russell’s Swifite is showing again 🤣

Those two basically during this scene lmao:

“Why’s he still alive?” you asked quietly. Owen’s eyes widened, Russell tsking him.

Oh her bluntness had me dead 🤣🤣🤣

And I absolutely love that you have Russell running with his own little underground crew here like in the books! 😍

You heard a muttered damn from someone behind you, your focus on Owen.

Not the peanut gallery chiming in 😂🫶

Russell smacked the back of his head. Hard. Owen grunted, shaking it out.

God, I’m fucking loving this dynamic so much!!! I’m a sucker for a brutal interrogation 😍😍😍 (Again, yes, I know the mental help. Will get on it soon… -ish)

And my fucking skin is crawling, btw!!! The sheer amount of effort Cujo put fucking into this and the bars on the windows and the padlock on the door??? Holy fucking shit!!! She really was lucky Russell came when he did. I don’t wanna imagine what would’ve happened to this poor girl otherwise 🙈😳

Again, is the Ramsey Bolton option off the table??? Force-feed him his sausage, girl!!!!

“I just wanted him to be as scared as I’ve been. I-I just…why’d it have to be my family?” You found his face, Russell smiling sadly.

Yeah… Really is a draw of luck 😔 (And honestly it’s why True Crime is so creepy and sad because it’s always “We never thought this could happen to our town/our family/me” etc. If you’re unlucky, all it takes is sitting next to the wrong person on the bus)

The world’s good and bad and that’s all there is to it.

Yes 💯 Camus has always been my favorite because I do agree that’s it all a little absurd if you think too hard about it…

“I can feel you watching, like a creeper.”

Cue the Radiohead 😂💚

You smiled to yourself when Russell closed the gap between them, giving Colter a strong embrace. “Let's leave that shit behind us. Thanks for coming, Colt.”

Aww, I’m so happy they made up too and are getting closer 🥰 The most frustrating part of the show is still how they brushed off Russell’s hurt over being accused of murder for twenty years by his own brother lol. I always loved that honest chat they had in the books about it 🤓

“Just an observation.”

Oh Colter 🫶

After she went to live with our aunt and uncle.

Aaah, loved this little tidbit about Dory!!! 👏👏 I can’t remember if they ever mentioned it on the show as well or if Dory actually lived on the compound till the end 🤔 (Still wild book!Dory has a wholeass husband and kids and goddamn escape plans set in place lol)

“No! No, I don’t mean like, officially yours. Like metaphorically. I’m not ready for anything official. Someday but so not right now.”

Bahaha loved how he backtracked so fast there was almost a Russell-shaped hole in the front door 😂

Awwww, this was such a perfect ending!! Both of them having a home and each other and a perfectly chosen family 🥹😭

This was an amazing series, Michelle! I loved all the book Easter eggs you weaved in so flawlessly and your characterization of both Russell and Colter! And aside from that, I was so hooked on the main storyline with the mafia and her being a fixer wanting to get out. You did such a great job with her background story and planning all those details perfectly and keeping the tension going, even with that last stretch when Owen showed up at the supermarket and then again during the interrogation. Seriously can’t wait what else you have in store for them with the other two one-shots! Well done, friend!!! 🩵🩵🩵

He's My Man (Part 5)

Summary: Russell's taken care of the reader's problem but things take a turn and the happy couple may not be so happy after all...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 6,300ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury/past drugging/brief mention of attempted assault (not shown) mention, angst, fluff, smut, stalker, murder, self-worth issues

A/N: Thank you all for taking this journey with me with writing this new character! I might return to this world someday but until then, please enjoy the finale!

__________

When you pulled up to the dark house, you noticed Russell’s car had been pulled into the garage and covered with a tarp. You swallowed as you pulled in beside it, biting back bile when Owen parked right behind you, preventing any escape if it came to that. You’d given Russell nearly thirty minutes notice to prepare. You really hoped whatever he had planned was going to be over with fast.

“Fuck,” said Owen, dashing from his car in the downpour to inside the garage. He shook himself off like a dog and pulled off his baseball cap. You’d seen the gash on his forehead before but from the overhead light, a skull fracture was very visible. The dried blood had matted into his thick hair and, along with the other injuries, made him look half-dead. 

“Why don’t you go relax inside, honey?” you forced out when you exited, slamming the door shut loudly, hoping Russell picked up on the fact you were here. “I’ll get the bags and then I’ll take a look at those cuts.”

“Thanks, baby. Don’t take too long.” You didn’t like how he kept saying that. He’d hung off of you at the store. Even if he wasn’t a raging psycho, personal space was still a thing.

You pretended to fuss about at the trunk as he went in the door from the garage to the house. It was quiet for a beat, your gaze locked on the open door in the corner.

Two quick shots rang out and you hit the cement floor hard. Nothing could be heard over the rain, your heart hammering away in your chest. Russell wouldn’t have shot Owen, would he? No, Russell would have snuck up on him, taken him out before he knew what hit him.

So had Owen been shooting? Was Russell hurt? You slowly sat up on your hands and knees, crawling along the side of the car until you reached the hood. You peaked your head around the corner and saw a pair of legs lying on the ground through the open door. It looked like Owen so you carefully rose, flinching when Russell came bounding in from behind you.

He held up his hands, your eyes widening at the blood staining his crisp white tee. 

“What-”

“My stitches tore,” he said, turning his bicep towards you, the blood staining underneath the bandage. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, glancing back inside to where the body lay motionless. “Did you kill him?”

“Not yet,” said Russell, inching past you towards a work bench. “Although he did shoot my fucking front door. Do you have any idea how much a custom mahogany door costs? I might kill him for that alone.”

Russell opened a drawer, taking out duct tape and zip ties. He slammed it shut, pausing with his back to you.

“He’s not going to leave you alone if I let him live.” 

“I know. He’s been following me for awhile I guess,” you said. 

“I can frame him for Elpine’s murder if you don’t want me to kill him.” You leaned back against your car, Russell setting the items on the bench and joining you. “I don’t have to…you know.”

“How are you going to kill him?” you asked after a moment.

“Bag over the head. He’s passed out. He wouldn’t even feel it. Are you sure that’s what-” You went to his workbench and ripped off a garbage bag from the roll, Russell closing his eyes. “Y/N, you should stay out here. Let me do this.”

“Owen started slipping roofies into my drinks when I was fifteen.” His head snapped up as you sighed. “He drugged me twice but nothing happened because my dad was around. I had to be more careful once dad started to lose it. Owen’s a good decade older than me I’m sure you noticed. I’ve been scared of this guy for too long. I’m not asking you to kill him. I’m asking you to show me how to do this myself.”

“I appreciate how strong you are but I’m doing it,” he said, taking the bag from you. You dropped your hand, frowning up at him. He sighed, stroking your cheek with his clean hand. “Your soul has enough scars for a lifetime. Don’t add more.”

“You don’t have to kill someone for me, Russell. You don’t need that on you either. Look what you’ve already done.”

“I won’t lose any sleep over him. You can do something for me though.” You sighed, nodding once. “Go back to the store and buy some extra large garbage bags and some duct tape, got it?”

“Um, yeah. Are you-”

“Y/N. We’re on the clock. We’ll talk later,” he said, kissing your temple. “Now go.”

Three Hours Later

“To be perfectly clear, I’m doing this for Y/N, not you,” said Colter with a coldness you didn’t love. You knew Russell’s relationship with his little brother was strained but you’d thought it had gotten better over the past few days.

“Yeah, well it don’t take a genius to see you like her better,” said Russell, Colter rolling his eyes, an uncharacteristic move. “I’ll never ask you for a thing again. You never even have to speak to me. Think what you want about me. Just please do this for Y/N’s sake.”

“I already…” huffed Colter when you side eyed him with narrowed eyes. He let out a slow exhale. “Fine. You owe me, Russell. Big.”

“Colter,” you said, nodding towards his truck. You left Russell as he went back to taping the large cooler in the garage shut. You assumed he’d put Owen inside and cleaned up while you were gone at the store. The rain had paused momentarily but there was another batch of storms coming through soon. You sighed as you stopped next to the younger Shaw, Colter crossing his arms. “I’m not letting you do this. I know Russell asked but I can’t let you move a body for me.”

He narrowed his eyes, face turning into a scowl. 

“I’m not moving…Russell!” Russ’ head popped up, Colter becoming increasingly annoyed. “Tell me what is going on right now or I swear you and me are done. Forever.”

Russell sighed, throwing his head back. “I may have lied about the Y/N wanting to tag along with you so she can tidy up her place in Virginia.”

“You what?” you asked, storming over to him. “You were trying to pawn me off on Colter again? For what! Owen’s dead, there’s no one left to bother me.”

“Sweetie,” said Russell, closing his eyes. “Owen should not have made it out alive and the fact he did isn’t good.” 

Slowly Russell met your gaze, ignoring Colter behind you. “So is this how it’s going to be? Any time everything’s not perfect you’re going to drop me on your brothers doorstep at the drop of a hat? News flash, Colter isn’t my babysitter. I’m a grown woman who has seen and handled more crap than you know. I thought you didn’t think of me as a damsel.”

“I don’t but-”

“But you don’t want me around for the hard stuff. I got the message.” 

“Y/N, someone else could still be left. They could kill you-” You held up your hand, Colter heading back to his truck to give you some space.

“I think I finally understand how you’re so perfect but alone. You live this life like you’re this happy go lucky guy but it’s a mask. All you actually see is the dark side of it. Of everything. You are more than happy to step into my dark side but you won’t let me see yours? You wouldn’t let me kill Owen. You won’t let me help clean it up. Even when it’s because of me. You have to always be the hero. Honestly, thinking about it, it’s been all my shit we’ve talked about. All you say is your got a dark past but you haven’t shared diddly squat. Is this how it’s going to be Russell? Because frankly, I want more than that. I told you I don’t need you to do things for me, I just need you to help me do them.”

Russell swallowed, face going stoic. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

Your heart dropped like a rock into the pit of your stomach, Russell’s jaw clenching. “You should pack up your stuff here and go with Colter. Go back to Virginia. You’re probably right. This was just attraction, plain and simple.”

“Russell, that’s not what I was saying-” 

“Yeah, it was. Just go. Please. I’ll deal with Owen. Just go back to Virginia and start your life over away from people like us.” With that he brushed past you for Colter, ignoring his repeated calls. 

“Asshole,” you mumbled as you went inside and shoved the few belongings that weren’t in the trunk of your car into a bag. You very purposefully left every pair of underwear, bra and pajamas he’d bought you behind. The cheap sports bra and cotton underwear you’d bought earlier would get you through until you were home.

If that’s how Russell wanted to end things, fine. You were free of the mafia. Free of guys with fucked up pasts. Your options were limitless.

And thank god Colter was smart enough to not ask about your red rimmed eyes by the time you were on the road.

Five Days Later

You gave Colter a wave from your front step as he drove off down the street. It’d taken only two days to drive cross country this time. Apparently you drove faster when you were upset. Or you didn’t sleep as much. Either way, Colter didn’t ask and was happy to get to Virginia where he had a missing accountant to find.

He used your kitchen as a base of operations and you let him crash in the guest room. In exchange, Colter got you hooked up with the basics of reward work. There were some extra perils to the job being a woman but also advantages that Colter didn’t have. He went over finding jobs, finding a team, learning how to get access to tools and databases. You didn’t have a lot of confidence in going after a full fledged disappearance yet but Colter mentioned it wasn’t always people that were what was missing.

By the end of his short stay, you had information overload but were grateful for the chance to start doing something good for once in your life.

Meanwhile, Russell hadn’t reached out once. You had to assume he’d disposed of Owen. You weren’t sure why you were still waiting for a text or a call. It was pretty clear things were over. Russell was too protective and you weren’t going to let another man tell you what to do again. 

Yet, you knew you were at fault too. Russell had just killed a guy in his house for you and he knew a hell lot more about getting away with a murder than you did. Russell had points for not wanting to involve you. And you had to be an asshole and pressure him for more when there was literally a dead body at your feet.

“I’m an idiot,” you groaned, leaning against the kitchen island with your head lowered. “Why did I do that?”

The doorbell rang, your head slowly rising. You sighed as you went to it, pulling it open quickly. 

“Did you forget-” You cut yourself off when you didn’t see Colter standing there. No, instead stood Russell in a trim black suit, his hair slicked back and a bouquet of orange and red flowers in his hands. “Russ? What-”

“Let me get this out and then I’ll get out of your life forever if that’s what you want,” he said. You leaned against the door jam, Russell taking a deep breath. “Y/N, I like you. A lot. Too much probably for how long we’ve known each other. Everything you said was right. I avoid my problems because it’s a hell of a lot easier to fix someone else’s in my experience.”

He swallowed, glancing at his feet. “Owen could have hurt you at that store. He could have taken you, shown up at the house and killed you. I fucked up and you don’t seem to understand that Owen’s obsession and how fucking smart you are is the only reason we’re still here and he’s not. I told you I took care of it and I didn’t. I was angry at myself and wanted you somewhere safer than with me so I pushed your buttons on purpose. I lied on purpose so you’d get mad and leave with Colter. You deserve a good man and I’m not him. I kill people. I use sex as a way to be close to women but then never let myself be in a relationship because I don’t want them to see beneath the surface and see the shit that’s in there. I want better for you than me.”

Russell looked up, a tiny smile forming on his face. “Can we try being friends again and maybe I can become that man that deserves you along the way?”

“Russell,” you sighed. You stepped forward, cupping his cheeks, green eyes full of caution. “We can be friends. I’d like it if we were more than that, though.” 

He slowly smiled, his lip ticking up when you stroked his cheek. 

“I’m sorry for jumping down your throat. You do not have to share your deepest darkest secrets with me, never mind the first day we’re actually together. That was unfair of me. I just want you to know you can share them with me if you want to.” 

“I’ve killed a lot of people, Y/N,” he said softly. “Dozens. Some of them, most of them, I never gave two shits about. No nightmares. No trauma. That’s not normal. It’s been years since I’ve felt all that bad about killing.”

“You don’t need to feel bad about killing monsters,” you said. He closed his eyes and you leaned in, kissing his forehead. “S’that why you didn’t want me to kill Owen?”

“Moral and practical reasons,” he whispered. “I don’t kill out of revenge. I don’t think I ever have. It always has another purpose. Protect someone, protect a group or the general public from a threat. Some psych told me once that’s why I don’t struggle as much with what I’ve done as some other folks. The way I grew up helped me with that. But I do struggle with it still and you’ve struggled enough. You don’t need that on you.”

“I understand. I’m so used to being controlled and told what to do…I can never go back to that.”

“You never will,” he said, opening his eyes. You tilted your head, Russell turned into your touch to match. “I’m sure I’ll fuck things up again. We can be friends if that’s all you ever want.”

“I don’t want to be just friends. So what if we fight? That’s what couples do.” You took his hand in yours and the flowers in the other, leading him inside behind you. 

“I quit my job a few days ago.” You froze, spinning around on your heels. He shrugged, still holding your hand. “I can’t change my life without making some changes.”

“You still want to do that home brew for a career?” 

“Yeah. I’d like to give it a shot.” He spotted the stacks of papers on your kitchen table and open computer. “Colter offer you a spot on his team?”

“He did at first but I want to try doing it my way, stop patching up the bad guys and doing something good. He warned me it can be dangerous work though, especially as a woman flying solo.”

“He makes very good points,” said Russell, thumbing at your lip when you smiled. “What’s that look for?”

“Maybe you could be on my team sometimes, show me a few moves from the expert.” You started to walk backwards towards your bedroom, Russell’s eyebrows raising. “If you want to.”

“I’ll show you any kind of moves you’d like, qark.” He held his ground though, stopping you in place. You waited for the but to come, for him to push back on getting back together. Instead, he took the flowers from your hand and went into your kitchen, finding a tall glass and filling it with water. He set the flowers on the island before rejoining you, resting his hands on your hips. “I like the idea of working together as partners.”

“But…” you said, Russell kissing the top of your head.

“But you are far too kind, my queen of darkness. I was expecting to get told to get lost tonight and I have plans I can’t get out of with my friends very shortly.”

“Oh,” you said, Russell’s finger tips finding the ends of your hair and playing with a few strands. “If you have plans, we can meet up another-”

“You want to know my dark side?” Your eyes flicked to meet his, your head nodding once. “You can’t unknow what kind of man I am once you do. I don’t blame you if you change your mind about me.”

“I want to know you. All of you.” He closed his eyes and nodded.

“Go change into something discreet. Dark clothes. Leave your phone home. If at any point you want to leave, say so and I bring you right back here, understand?” You nodded, Russell backing away. “Mind if I change in your bathroom?”

“You can change in the bedroom with me.” He smirked but backed away.

“Another time. We have an appointment to keep.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, Russell glancing away.

“Don’t be mad but we need to pay Owen a visit.”

Twenty minutes later you quietly followed Russell into what looked like a decommission warehouse that should have been torn down a decade ago. The building was pitch black apart from the single light coming from the end of a hallway. You stuck behind Russell as you entered the room, stopping when you found six different men and a woman inside, most carrying a weapon on their hip or tucked into their jeans from what you could tell.

And smack in the center of the room tied to a chair was Owen very much still alive. Although…alive was being generous. He didn’t look more injured than when you’d last seen him but his color was off and his eyes were red and puffy. He wasn’t even angry when he saw you, just…scared.

“He behave while I was gone?” asked Russell to a man and woman nearby.

“Tried bribing Doug and then all of us to let him go,” said the woman. She gave Owen a nasty look before turning gentle as she looked towards Russell. “I think you scared the poor boy, Shaw.”

“Oh, who’s afraid of little old me?” said Russell, giving Owen a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “So. Owen, my friends. Friends, Owen. You’re already acquainted with Y/N.”

Owen’s gaze flickered to you when Russell grabbed a chair from the wall and sat it a few feet away from Owen, facing him. Russell sat down slowly, nodding when you moved closer so you could see both their faces.

“Why’s he still alive?” you asked quietly. Owen’s eyes widened, Russell tsking him.

“On me, big guy,” said Russell, snapping his fingers, Owen reluctantly looking at him. “You got some options. Prison. You die very quickly. Or…me and my friends can make sure you die very slowly. Your choice.”

“Why didn’t you kill him yet?” you asked again. Russell sighed, glancing down. “Russell.”

“There were some things that never sat right with me that I wanted answers to. The stuff with your family’s accident and your dad’s paranoia, him attacking you. I had a paranoid father too. I know the signs, know that they want to protect us in their own way. The coincidence of meeting someone just like me was too high so I started to dig. You mentioned Owen’s drugged you a few times in the past and tried to hurt you.”

“Yeah…I’m not following,” you said. Russell stood slowly, staring down Owen like a predator with it’s prey firmly caught in a trap.

“I figured if he drugged you, who else had he slipped something to? What good man, good doctor, could a prescription drug running family slip into his drinks? The more I researched, the more my friends helped, the more we found.” Russell clenched his fists by his side, knuckles turning white. “Should I tell her Owen? Or do you have the balls to tell her yourself?”

Russell ripped off the tape over his mouth, Owen wincing as he breathed deeply. Russell was on him like that, grabbing his throat, not squeezing but adding enough pressure that it was going to be uncomfortable. “I told you to talk, you sack of shit.”

“Y/N, this guys is lying. I never did anything to you!” Russell’s jaw clenched and you watched him squeeze, only backing off when you laid a gentle hand on Russell’s shoulder. 

“He’s psycho!” said Owen, Russell backing up a step. You looked up to him, Russell’s face unreadable. “Y/N, baby-”

“Shut the fuck up before I stab you in your spine,” you said. Owen’s jaw snapped shut, a flicker of something in Russell’s eyes. Pride? Amusement? It quickly flittered away, replaced with worry when you held out a hand. “Can I have your knife?”

Russell slowly took it out of his pocket, handing the engraved handle out to you. You flicked it open and took a seat in the chair, holding it pointed down at the concrete floor.

“Owen. Tell me the truth and I won’t kill you. I swear. But I can get the answers from you if you don’t cooperate. Don’t make me get my boyfriend’s knife bloody.”

You heard a muttered damn from someone behind you, your focus on Owen. He sagged in his seat and closed his eyes.

“Our old fixer wanted out, wanted to go to the feds so my dad had him killed. I was eighteen and he told me to start earning my place as successor. He told me to find a new fixer. Your dad was one of the best doctors in the city. Things were…arranged. Two weeks later we-” 

Russell smacked the back of his head. Hard. Owen grunted, shaking it out.

“Two weeks later I…put a hit on your family. Your mom and brother specifically. We only needed one kid to survive and I thought a girl would be easier to control. I started drugging your father that night with antipsychotics to create paranoia,” said Owen, his head hanging low. “I orchestrated the whole thing. We fed him the drugs for years, it made him stay close if not a little extreme. It kept taking more though.”

“Do. Not. Skip. Ahead,” growled Russell, grabbing a fistful of Owen’s shirt.

“O-okay. I-I…I started thinking about how to get your dad to stick around once you grew up and you were pretty and smart and I thought you’d be happy with me.”

“How old was she when you decided this?” barked Russell. Owen whimpered, trying to curl in on himself. “Fifteen you disgusting waste of space.”

“You started drugging me then,” you said. Owen shook his head.

“Not with that stuff. Just roofies. But not enough for you to be completely out of it. Your dad started keeping a closer eye on you and I tried waiting for you to come around on your own but it was so hard when you went away to college. I knew I couldn’t let you run off like that again so…” Owen’s shoulders shook, mouth snapping shut.

“So you roofied her, attacked her and she fought back. Her father protected her and you fucking killed him for it. Your dear old daddy found what you’d done and wasn’t happy, was he? He covered up your murder and blamed her father knowing Y/N wouldn’t remember a thing. Y/N was forced to go to med school and learn crap she didn’t want to all while daddy had you banished away from her. You tried to keep tabs on her but it wasn’t until dad died that you could finally take Y/N like you wanted. It’s pure fucking luck I showed up when I did to make sure that didn’t happen. Would you like to tell Y/N about the fucking padded door locks and bars on the window in her old room back at the house? About your plans for her?”

Russell grabbed Owen’s hair, forcing his head up. Owen was trembling, whispering apologies and saying how he didn’t mean it, over and over.

“So…you killed my family…and tried to assault me more than once over the years…and were planning on keeping me as a…pet in the house until I magically fell in love with you. I think that sums it up,” you said. You stood up, handing Russell his knife. “I’m not going to kill him.”

“Thank you,” sighed Owen in relief. “Thank you. I-I knew you’d be able to forgive me-”

“Oh, I don’t forgive you and I wouldn’t be thanking me,” you said, smiling up at Russell. ““Papa Elpine and a few guys made it out I heard. Bobby was his favorite son, right?”

“Y/N! I killed Bobby! They’ll-” Russell shoved some tape over his mouth and hummed.

You crossed your arms, Russell tilting his head at you. “You know they’re going to torture Owen to death.”

“I said I wouldn’t hurt him and I’m keeping my word,” you said, Owen shouting under the tape. “I’d tell you to confess but Elpine’s connected. He’d just have you killed in prison. So. Elpine it is.”

“You sure?” asked Russell. You pursed your lips, Owen pleading with his eyes. Everything in you wanted to say yes, let him get what he had coming. 

So why couldn’t you say it? 

You looked to Russell, nodding. “Get rid of him, please,” you mouthed.

“Look away,” said Russell. You turned around, Owen panting hard before there was a loud crack and the room was still. Russell’s hand found your shoulder, rubbing it softly. “We took care of Elpine’s guys. You know that.”

“I just wanted him to be as scared as I’ve been. I-I just…why’d it have to be my family?” You found his face, Russell smiling sadly.

“I’ve asked myself that question a lot over the years. Best I came up with is you got to try and let it go. The world’s good and bad and that’s all there is to it.” He wrapped his arm over your shoulder, walking you towards the door. You nearly looked back but he blocked you with his body. “No. He’s gone for good, you don’t need to give him anything more. I’m sorry for not killing him back in Washington. I just thought you deserved the truth. Your dad was a good man.”

“Thank you,” you said, closing your eyes. “I wish I realized that sooner.”

“Come on,” he said, walking you out to the hallway. “Let’s get you home.”

One Month Later

You smiled from your chair when Russell let out a single tiny snore from the couch across from you. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the past few days and honestly, it was kind of adorable the way this incredibly dangerous man made the cutest cooing noises while he slept.

“You’re staring at me,” he mumbled without opening his eyes a few minutes later. You looked around, holding up a finger. “I can feel you watching, like a creeper.”

“Well, you make these cute sounds when you sleep,” you said. He smirked, slowly flicking his lazy eyes open.

“And who’s fault is it that I haven’t been sleeping, hm?” You shrugged and slid down in your chair with your book, grinning behind the pages. “I can see that smile, you know that?”

“Don’t blame me for the amazing orgasms you give,” you said, flicking your eyes over the top of the book, Russell propping himself up on his elbows with a predatory gaze. “Down boy. Later.”

“You better,” he said, plopping back with a huff. “Remind me to never help Frank with a favor ever again.”

“Frank helped you with Owen,” you reminded him. Russell scoffed.

“All he did with Owen was stand there and look scary. I didn’t make him build a fucking deck in the pacific northwest in forty degree weather.”

“Aw, is baby boy cranky?” you teased. He growled, playfully tossing his pillow at you. “You guys should wrap up tomorrow, right?”

“That’s the plan. Then I’m going back to waking up at a humane hour,” he said, forcing himself to sit up and stretch out with a few grunts. “How long was I out?”

“About an hour and a half. You needed it,” you said, flipping a page. Russell glanced over to the dining table, taking in the decorated spread. 

“You set a place for Colter?” he asked. 

“Yes…right next to Dory’s,” you said, closing your book and setting it aside. “You still think he won’t come?”

“He’s not the kind of guy to come to a housewarming party. Especially his brother’s housewarming party. We still haven’t talked since…” 

���I know,” you said, standing and pulling him to his feet. He was still sleepy as you ruffled his hair, Russell turning into the touch. “I’m excited to meet your friends and family properly.”

“They want to know all about you, that’s for sure,” he chuckled. “You can’t imagine the amount of shit they’ve given me after I said I’d never settle down.”

“I moved in a week ago. We’re a ways from settling down,” you said. He titled his head, smiling at you. “Don’t give me that face.”

“What face?” he teased, leaning in close, dipping his head, kissing under your jaw.

“Shaw! Do not give me a hickey! I do not want them seeing-” You sucked in a breath, brain going fuzzy when he nipped at the soft flesh. 

“Too bad, qark. If I have to have hickeys all over my neck then so do you,” he said, suckling the skin. A buzzer went off in the kitchen and he groaned when you slipped away so the rolls wouldn’t burn. “Y/N…”

“Saved by the bell,” you said, taking out the pan and leaving them to cool off. Russell was by your side quickly, hands on your hips so you couldn’t escape. “Okay. How about you can give me as many hickeys as you want later if you’re a good boy this afternoon?”

“Hm, I do like being your good boy,” he said, squeezing your hips. “Deal.”

“Good. Where do you keep-“

The doorbell trilled, your heads turning towards the front windows. A familiar pickup truck was out front, Russell raising his eyebrows. You nodded for the door, Russell cautious as he answered. Colter stood on the front porch with an awkward forced smile and a pink box.

“I uh, picked up some dessert for dinner later,” he said offering the box. Russell took it, setting it aside on the front table. “You going to invite me in?”

“I thought you…” Russell shook his head and opened the door wider, letting his younger brother inside. Colter gave you a brief smile before clearing his throat.

“I uh, can help you get ready or cook. I just…last time we talked Russell…”

You smiled to yourself when Russell closed the gap between them, giving Colter a strong embrace. “Let's leave that shit behind us. Thanks for coming, Colt.”

“Yeah,” said Colter, returning it for a moment before the boys broke apart. “How’s the girlfriend situation working out for you?”

“I’m telling you man, find the right girl, you’ll never want to go back to being a loner,” said Russell, giving you a smirk. “They do come with a lot of rules though, fair warning.”

“I asked you to put the toilet seat down, Shaw,” you chided. 

“Like I said, rules,” teased Russell. You picked up a knife by your cutting board, narrowing your eyes. “We should help before she starts using that on us.”

“Yes you should,” you said, Colter shrugging out of his jacket and boots, joining your side after washing up. “Can you cut up the veggies into strips?”

“Can do,” he said, swapping places with you. You smiled when Russell took the dessert box and started to arrange the treats on a platter over on the dinning table. “I’d like to apologize for my behavior the last time we were all here.”

You frowned as you peeled a bag of potatoes into a bowl. “You mean when I lost my cool on Russell? You have nothing to apologize for Colter. We were asking you for a favor. Again. I’m honestly surprised you don’t hate me. I know you value your alone time.”

Colter was quiet, chopping neatly and pushing the scraps into a discard bowl. “Did Russell ever tell you how he got that gunshot he went to you for in the first place?”

“Someone kidnapped Doug. He went to save him.”

“Did you know I helped him with that?” You shook your head, setting the peeler down. Colter had stopped dicing, a barely there smile crossing his face. “If it weren’t for my brother asking for my help with his friends, I’m not sure we ever would have spoke again.”

“I know there’s a complicated history there.” He hummed, watching Russell across the room. “It means a lot to him that you’re trying too.”

“S’all we can do is try, right?” he said, going back to his cutting. “So. My brother is clearly head over heels. What about you? Should I expect a wedding invitation soon?”

“Uh, no,” you said, laughing to yourself. “We’re certainly not traditional but we’re nowhere near ready for that. We’ll see how living together goes for awhile before we talk about anything like long term plans.”

“Yet you moved in already.” You rolled your eyes. “Just an observation.”

“For convenience sake. Russ is looking into land for the brewery around here since he left his job and apartments in town are limited.”

“Right. I’m sure that’s it. Silly me,” he said. You held up your peeler to him, Colter raising his hands. “Russ, I think I broke one of your girlfriend’s rules.”

“It was nice knowing ya,” said Russell with a chuckle. “Give him a swift death for me, qark.”

“Qark?” asked Colter as you turned your attention to the potatoes. 

“Queen of darkness. Now hurry up with those so you and Russ can have some alone time before dinner.”

Six Hours Later

“This is going well,” said Russell to you in the kitchen as laughed and a smoky scent filtered in from the back porch. “Everyone really likes you.”

“I suppose I have met them all before, except for Dory. She’s such a sweetheart. I don’t know what I was expecting but-”

“She was much younger than us when our dad died. After she went to live with our aunt and uncle. She’s tough but normal in a way Colter and I won’t ever…” You rubbed his back, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close. “Did you like, drug him? Or bribe him? I seriously can’t believe he’s still here let alone came.”

“Of course he came. No matter what’s happened in the past, he loves his big brother.” Russell tucked you into his side, smiling when you rested your head on his shoulder. “I found a job in Wyoming. Missing prized show dog. I was going to head out in the morning, see if I’m any good at this.”

“You’ll be wonderful,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Be safe though.”

“I will be.” You turned in his hold to face him, wrapping your arms around his back in a hug. “It’s been a long time since anyone cared if I was safe. It’s nice. This weird little family you have is…I’m jealous to be honest.”

“You shouldn’t be. It’s yours too.” You raised your eyebrows, Russell raising his own, eyes going wide. “No! No, I don’t mean like, officially yours. Like metaphorically. I’m not ready for anything official. Someday but so not right now.”

“Me either,” you said, the tension running out of his face. “I want to know who we are without our old jobs, how to be a happy queen of darkness.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” he said. “Speaking of which, I got you a present for helping organize all of this and cooking for ten people after literally just moving cross country. I know it was stressful so I wanted to make it up to you.”

“I don’t need a present, Russ,” you said, a sneaky smile forming on his face. “Oh. This is a present for the both of us.”

“I got you a new pair of jammies, the lilac set this time,” he said. Russell’s smile grew as yours did, his arms lifting you off the ground, bringing you to eye level. “You deserve all the good things in life, qark.”

“I think we got something pretty good starting right here,” you said, kissing him once, Russell humming.

“I couldn’t agree more, baby. Couldn’t agree more.”

__________

[readerihardlyknowher]

In Every Universe | Pt. 6

Can't believe Amanda's going to be a mom for real now oml

Spencer Agnew x Reader Warnings: None WC: 1,824 Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6

“Hello, welcome to Smosh Mouth. I’m Shayne-” “-and I’m Amanda, and we have a very special guest here today: Y/n Y/l/n!” Both of the hosts look at you, and you wave to the camera, saying hello. “And today we are going to be talking about romance, is that something you know a lot about Y/n?”

“Oh wow, romance,” you chuckle, a little nervous. This is the first time you’ve been able to come onto Smosh Mouth. “Yeah actually, I do. I mean, I’ve had romances before, and I recently rewatched Pride and Prejudice.” Amanda gasps at this.

“The one with Colin Firth?” “No, the one with Matthew Macfayden. From Succession.”

“Right, okay, and was it any good?” Amanda’s perpetually enthusiastic voice makes you smile. Talking with her just feels natural, which is why it’s good she’s one of the hosts.

“Yeah, actually. I mean, it’s one of my favorite movies. I can’t lie, I love a good fairytale ending where everyone’s just happy and in love.”

“Same. I love seeing people happy and in love,” Amanda’s excited voice agrees with you, before looking at Shayne with an expectant look.

“Yeah, I mean I’ve watched my fair share of romance movies, and there’s some good ones out there.”

The rest of the podcast continues on in a much similar manner. Amanda and Shayne ask you questions about shows, games, and even basic questions about your romance life, like your first kiss and whatnot. You share more than you thought you would have, but nothing too intimate or personal. Gotta keep some semblance of privacy on the internet. Eventually, Amanda’s face breaks into a smirk, looking down at her paper before back up at you.

“So, you’ve had many on-camera romances with our favorite Spencer.” You chuckle at this, having known from when she first mentioned romance that it would lead to here.

“Yeah, I have. I mean, I’ve also had a few romances with other cast members in other games, but I think Spencer and I have had the most romances. I mean, besides you and Angela.” You throw it back to her, with a smile, which she laughs at.

“She’s my wife, man!”

“Your work wife,” Shayne throws out.

“Yes, my work wife.

“Anyways, Y/n, we wanted to know straight from you how it feels to be shipped to such a degree. All of us here have been shipped with other cast members many times in the past, but how do you feel about it?” You go silent for a moment to think about it, trying to give a sort of political answer to the question. Honest, but nothing to stir the pot.

“I guess I don’t really mind it. I mean, even if I did mind, it wouldn’t stop anything. Besides, what girl hasn’t been shipped with her boy best friend at some point? But really, it’s no different than how Amanda is with Spencer, so I really don’t get why I’m the one getting shipped. I know you’re married and I’m not, but still,” you finish with a smile, feeling a little hot under the heat of the lights.

“To be clear,” Shayne begins, “we do have it on record that Amanda does in fact have a crush on Spencer.” This comment makes your face heat up more, smiling nervously and shaking your head.

“Oh right, well nevermind that comparison then. What I meant was that we’re just really friendly with one another.”

“Yeah I mean,” Amanda scratches behind her neck. “There’s just something about Spencer that makes everyone love him. It’s so weird.”

Shayne chuckles at that. “Oh yeah, I mean even back in the Defy era everyone loved him.”

You can’t stop smiling throughout the conversation, and you know it must look a little silly to the audience. The truth is just that you love your best friend, everyone does. He’s a very lovable guy, nothing “weird” about it. But what is weird is how your heart flips when you hear what Amanda says next:

“Which is why we’re bringing on the one and only Spencer Agnew to join us here today!”

Immediately you turn your head and watch Spencer as he walks up on set from behind the cameras. You hadn’t even known he was there and silently you wonder if you’ve embarrassed yourself. You have half the mind to move your chair over as he brings one of his own to sit next to you, between you and Shayne.

“Hey, how’s it going guys?” Spencer says to the two hosts before looking over at you, his familiar, all too comfortable grin on his face. “Hello, my wife.”

You huff out a laugh and return the smile. “Hello, my husband.”

“Guys,” Amanda’s voice draws your attention. “Knock it off. There’s too much chemistry already and we haven’t even gotten to the question we’ve all been wanting to know.”

You both pause at that, turning to face her, expectantly waiting for her to continue.

“Where did the marriage joke come from?”

At that you both turn to each other, smiling and silently asking who wants to be the one to tell the story. It only takes a second before Spencer looks down, a little embarrassed.

“I’ll tell. So, back when we were working as editors with Defy, we were good friends. So, one day we’re about to start a shoot, I’m helping to set up, Y/n’s across the room working on something else and she calls my name. Now, I don’t know what was with me that day, but I said ‘Yeah, hun?’ in front of EVERYONE there.”

“And that’s what got us our first trip to HR.”

Amanda “aw”’s at the story. Shayne merely chuckles and shakes his head. Amanda’s brows crease as a question enters her mind.

“Wait, but why did you call Y/n that?”

Spencer can only shrug as a response before laughing. You catch him glancing over at you and can see a light dusting of red on his cheeks.

“I don’t even know, man. If I’m remembering correctly, it’s because that’s what I was calling the girl I was with at the time and was super tired coming into work, so I just slipped up.”

“And that’s called a freudian slip,” Amanda says, nodding. This causes Spencer to laugh and put his head in his hand, saying her name under his breath in exasperation. You step in to continue the story.

“So yeah, then after that, people on set thought we were together. Once they realized we weren’t they just turned it into a running joke that we’re the married couple on set. But I guess that title now has to be handed off to you and Courtney now,” you say, directing the energy back to Shayne who nods.

He ends up telling a story of his own about how the people at Smosh were told/found out about them dating, and how they wondered at first whether or not to ever tell the audience, but ended up settling on telling them once they got married. It’s a nice change of pace at this point in the podcast, getting to listen to a sweet story. Eventually, the conversation falls back into the topic of romance movies, in which they end up asking Spencer what his favorite is.

“Excluding Attack of the Clones? I’d have to say Princess Bride right now. Y/n and I rewatched it about a month ago and it still holds up.”

Amanda “ooh”’s at that choice, agreeing that it’s such a good movie. Shayne takes this time to turn towards the camera and speak.

“So, just for you guys at home, Spencer and Y/n like to watch movies and shows together in their free time.”

“Hey, we’ve invited you two to join us sometimes and you always blow us off!” You say playfully. It’s true though, when watching a movie you knew one or the both of them loved, you would ask if they wanted to join, but most of the time they end up being too busy.

“I come whenever I can. Mostly though, after a long day I like to hit the gym and relax with Courtney,” Shayne responds, a slightly offended tone with his first statement, before going back to the casual style he speaks with. Amanda nods and looks as though she’s about to speak before you feel Spencer’s warm hand through the sleeve of your shirt, resting just on your upper arm.

“Yeah, gives me more time to relax with my wife as well,” his smooth voice replies to Shayne. You turn and shoot him a confused smile before smacking his hand.

“Get your Mountain Dew fingers off of me,” you huff out as he pulls his hand away with a smile.

“See what I have to put up with? Women, amiright?” Amanda immediately boos Spencer’s comment, Shayne putting his head in his hands.

Pretty quickly, the topic turns back to movies and TV shows, Amanda talking about her love of Turkish dramas, and you talking about your favorite movies. Shayne turns to you once you’re done talking.

“So, Y/n, aren’t you and Spencer having your movie night tonight?” You nod and hum as a response to his question. “Do you know what movie you’re going to watch?”

The two of you turn and look at each other, silently wondering if you should share it, before you take in a breath and turn back to Shayne, a giggle in your voice as you speak.

“We’re actually watching The Notebook.”

“My choice,” Spencer adds. Amanda gasps and holds her hands to her chest, while Shayne hums and nods.

“Oh my gosh, such a good movie.”

“Well, I think that we’re nearing the end of our episode here,” Shayne’s voice calls to attention. You had hardly noticed how quickly time had passed since you first sat down, Amanda and Shayne’s energy, as well as Spencer’s presence being so welcoming. You almost wished this episode would never end, however, it does comfort you to know that you and Spencer will be seeing each other later tonight.

“Thank you for having us, I hope to get invited back soon. You guys were amazing as always,” you say, being nice for the end of the video. Amanda looks at you with an excited look on her face.

“Yes, and you have to tell us more about your movie nights,” Amanda teases you, which makes you a little flustered but you brush it off. You’re about to speak before Spencer talks first.

“No way, if you want to know about our movie nights, you’ve got to come when we invite you. What happens at movie night stays at movie night.”

Amanda opens her mouth to protest, and you realize this is just going to prolong the end of the video, so you turn to the camera, a playfully panicked look on your face.

“Quick, cut the video now! They’re not going to stop otherwise!”

Tag list: @lisiliely, aliceblxck, burrowedinnature77, 65percentleg

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hi! This is a (kinda nsfw) request for the Moon Knight Boys or only Steven, whichever you’re comfortable with!

So, reader is usually loosely trimmed or has fully grown hair „down there”. One day she decides to surprise her vigilante boyfriends and shaves everything off or maybe leaves a cute little heart on top?? Either way I’d love to know how they’d react.

(I myself am female but please write for which gender you’re most comfortable with)

~Cherry Bomb Anon 💖💖💖

Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, I realise now that I misread this!

Anyway, it's now Marc and Steven with the shaved heart.

Glue It Back On

Steven Grant x Marc Spector x gn!Reader • Rating: mature pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Warnings: This is just Marc and Steven having a conversation really, I'm so sorry, swearing, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 851

“They’re gonna hate it, they’re gonna hate it. Fuck.”

“Shit.” 

“Fuck.”

“Shit,” Steven chews his bottom lip, “what if we shave it all off?” 

“All of it?”  Marc answers from the bathroom mirror. 

Steven nods. “All of it, like,” he motions with his hands. “Gone.”

“Bald?” 

“No, not bald Marc, it wouldn’t be bald, our, our-”

“Our balls would be bald.” 

“I was thinking more like, we just shave the top… bit?” 

“And nothing else?” Marc frowns in thought. “Wouldn’t that look-”

“Weird, yeah.” Steven sighs defeatedly. “It would. Like we just stopped halfway, and if we do it like a really neat line that will look like, ‘woah, too much effort here’, and if we don’t it’ll look a mess.” 

Marc nods. “Look, I know this isn’t helpful, but I don’t want to shave it all off. Because, one,” he holds up his forefinger. “I think it’ll look weird, you know like in porn, hairless balls just make me think of turkey wattles.” 

Steven pauses. “Wattles?” 

“Like the turkey red neck flappy thing.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know that it was called that.” He nods a little, then shakes his head, trying to stay focused. “You think shaved balls look like that?” 

“Kinda.”

“Kinda?” He says, unimpressed.

“Yeah, look, I’m not the vegan who gets freaked out by certain types of mushrooms-”

“We’ve been over this, I heard Michael say in the break room that mushrooms on pizza looked like slugs, and I can’t unsee it, it’s not fair to-”

Marc holds up his hands. “I’m sorry, okay, sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that all up again like that.” 

Steven nods. 

“They just look weird to me.” 

Steven’s lip twitches in a smile and Marc braces himself for whatever is about to come. “Is that what you say to yourself to justify only watching lesbian porn?” 

“Don’t.”

“Is it?” Steven grins. 

“I don’t just watch lesiban porn.” 

Steven scoffs. “Firstly, you do. Second, what’s wrong with watching lesbian porn?” 

Marc gives him a glare. “You’re the one that brought this up!”

Steven grins, enjoying seeing Marc squirm a little. “I did. So, why do you only watch lesibian porn?” 

“Fuck off.” 

Steven chuckles. “Spoil sport.” 

“You’re a bully.” Marc smiles. 

“What was your second point anyway?” 

“What?” 

“You’re second point? First was our balls would look like a turkey if we shave them, what was the other?” 

“Oh, I think it’ll itch like hell when the hair starts to grow back if we use the razor.” 

Steven nods, thinking. “Yeah, I bet you’re right on that one.” He sighs again, his shoulders slumping. “But what are we gonna do?” 

“We could glue it back on?” Marc says, only half joking.

“Marc.” He gives him the disappointed teacher voice. “We are not glueing hair back onto our.. Our… area.” 

“Area?” 

“You’re worried about it itching growing back, what the fuck do you think it’s gonna feel like with glue?” 

“Area? Steven, are we fucking three?” 

Steven puts his hands on his hips. “Is that what you’re focusing on right now?” 

“Well, yeah? Area?” 

“What would you call it then? Hmm?” 

Marc opens his mouth and then pauses.

“See, see?” Steven gestures at Marc, “What the fuck is it?”

“It’s the bit above the dick.” 

“Yeah, but what is that called? Like the actual name?” 

Marc thinks and then frowns. “Steven, I don’t fucking know, why is this important?”

“You made it important.” Steven grabs his phone from the side.

“What are you doing?” Marc sighs.

“I’m looking it up.”

“Steven.” 

“I want to know.” 

“Steven.” 

“All I can think of is pubic mound, but is that like, the word for everyone?” 

Marc shakes his head slightly as he pulls a face. “For everyone? What do you mean?”

“Like for all genders.”

“Oh…” Marc thinks again. “Maybe…” He leans forward as if he could see Steven’s phone from his angle. 

“See? You’re interested now.” 

He nods. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Don’t get too excited about it.” He huffs.

Steven rolls his eyes, and then quickly reads. “Okay, it is the pubic mound for everyone.” 

“Okay.” 

“We’ve learnt something.” 

“Doesn’t really help with our current situation, does it?” 

Steven puts his phone down and rubs his eyes, “Ugggghhhh, what if we just say, ‘Love, I tried to shave a heart into my pubic hair because I thought it would be funny and sweet and now I’m like what the fuck have I done?’” 

You knock on the bathroom door and both Steven and Marc jump at the same time. 

“Erm,” Steven scrambles with the towel around his waist before he opens the door with a flourish. “I-”

“I got back about ten minutes ago.” You give him a soft smile. “I’ve been listening to your side of the conversion, with rapt attention.” You tease playfully. 

Steven closes his eyes and chuckles bashfully. 

“If it’s any help,” you give his cheek a quick kiss. “I think the heart sounds lovely.” 

“Show them!”

Steven rolls his eyes, turning his head to pull a face at Marc’s reflection. “You wanted to glue it back on a second ago.” 

Thank you for reading!

Taglist:

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @lonelyisamyw-0love @romanarose  

@steven-grants-world  @blushingrn @to-be-a-sunshine  @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87

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[philosophicalparadox]

Idk if it’s funnier that crows, especially jungle crows (Japanese crows) can, in fact, talk, sound exactly like a human, and understand language about as well as a 3 year old.

But they’re very picky about when to use it.

So imagine a conversation going back and forth in Human and Crow and then the crow just randomly decides to throw in a few Human words or sentences in there, which rather than making the conversation more intelligible just makes it that much more confusing. ESPECIALLY since jungle crows (which are just Ravens Lite) have the ability to create their own terms for things out of the language they know, just like a toddler.

Think Warrior Cats speak; ninja wire being called Metal Web, or traditional houses being called Big Wood Box that Persons Live Inside (in my experience with talking ravens, they tend to communicate concepts by describing them in this manner) and generalizing certain ideas that they just can’t differentiate, I.e. all young humans are Baby until they don’t look Baby anymore, and their definition of what is a Boy and Girl are a bit different from ours because they can see Blashko lines and seem to determine our sex based on that among other things.

Anyway point is, can you Imagine how unbelievably weird that would be to an ignorant onlooker?

Itachi: Yes, I see…

Crow: Haa, *rattles*! (In a perfectly human voice) “Boy! Boy!”

Itachi: hmmmm. You’re right that is suspicious.

Crow: “web! Weeds! Bad Tree!”

Itachi: *mentally understanding crow directions* “And then what happened?”

Crow: *vaguely gestures with beak to the sky* HAAA!

Itachi: “Ah. I see. We always knew he would die young. So sad.”

Crow: “Big! Bad Noise, over there.” *crow bellows* “Boy! Boy! Water move. More Boy! Red. Blue. Big Shiny. Sharp. Big! BIG!!!!”

Itachi, trying not to cry: “yeah. That’s good.”

Meanwhile Kisame is over there, just, SO over this:

“Itachi what the heck are you even talking about”

(For reference, this is about Deidara vs Sasuke, in crow terms)

I could get a LOT more detailed — I’ve personally held a few full conversations with a raven — but that is more or less the way they talk. Occasionally you get full sentences but they’re rarely more than 5 words long, 8 at most. Darlene, the raven I knew, had a habit of whispering “I’m too fluffy for you” to herself (or the question variety of “too fluffy? Too fluffy for you?” Which was her way of starting a fight) or saying “I’m a dinosaur!” For example.

Itachi 100% uses crows to spy on the Akatsuki while he’s away from them and he also uses them to make sure Sasuke is okay.

I feel like once Sasuke set out on his journey of atonement, he finds that crows sometimes follow him, be it due to Itachi asking them too before his death or the crows just do it out of respect for Itachi Sasuke doesn’t know.

They are like a fucking security camera system, a crow approaches Itachi n goes 'CAW' and he's like 'hmmm yes, I see' and Kisame is losing his shit.

[bobur-the-berry-guy]

hi!!!! headcanons for mogari was good, it's so yummy ty <33 do you have any thoughts about confession headcanons for main four + ichimiya (if you don't mind ofc!!)? ty anyway! :3

•OHMYGOD IF I TELL U I WAS ALREADY MAKING IT IN THE DRAFTS WHEN U ASKED AHHHH I LOVE REQUESTS

ᕙ⁠(͡⁠°⁠‿⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)⁠ᕗAlso I'm playing around w the formatting do we fw it

Anyway we're on the same wavelength anon, i hope you and whoever is reading enjoys these 😼

Phantom busters confessions!

•Ft. Mogari, Eugene, Kaoru, Tamon, Ichimiya

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆.˚✮•🌺•✮˚.⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Moragi

ᯓ★୭˚ Poor dude just got out of his prison of a household and went head first in the real world with zero actual experience, how do you think he'd deal with a crush?!

ᯓ★୭˚ In all honesty, it would take him a while to realize. He would just think you're a great friend and-- wait, what do you mean it isn't normal for your friends to give you heart palpitations or for your throat to dry up when they give you a hug.. sure, none of his other friends make him feel like that but that doesn't mean there's anything too different about you, right?

ᯓ★୭˚ Yeah, he'd take his time. Let him be. He's still figuring it out. Most likely someone from the phantom busters club would point it out to him to try and make fun of him but Mogari is surprisingly chill with it. Yeah, he has a crush, so what?

ᯓ★୭˚ Truth be told, you could probably catch on it but then again Moragi is.. Moragi. You can't tell uf he's into you or he's being his weird self.

ᯓ★୭˚ They can try to tease him all they want, but he doesn't feel shame. What he feels is mild confusion - how is he supposed to go about this? What do people do when they have their crush figured out? How do they tell their crush likes them back? There are specific ways to confess?? What???

ᯓ★୭˚ He's coached by his friends on how to do it - all in vastly different ways. Eugene is the most practical but.. Moragi doesn't think he absolutely has to have it all planned out and everything, right? Tamon is a great listener, but he has.. zero experience. He has seen what other people have done and tell so, but then again that's just hwat he's seen. And Kaoru gives full romance manga scenarios. The rain and only one umbrella, the sick episode, confession under a cherry tree - the woks. And Moragi, bless his soul, takes everything all they say to heart. And he thinks he's got it all figured out - practical, romantic, what he thinks would be a good confession in your eyes and most importantly tweaked with his own things to feel more him, you know?

ᯓ★୭˚ He's got this! He's hyped, he's the man, he's the boss— and it goes all but the way he planned. But really, what else do we expect?

──★°`🌙.*♪!! Moragi's got it all planned. He's not sure why exactly he needs the plan, but his friends said it would make you happy so who is he to not believe them?

This whole day you've been together. Originally it should've been the whole friend group hanging out, but everyone other than Moragi mysteriously bailed so it was just the two of you.

It was definitely not a boring day. Its just that everything he planned pretty much got obliterated in front of his eyes. He slipped and fell in the cute little cafe and got his drink all over him, which you had to help him wash out after. He got confused on the directions and had you both lost for a good half an hour. Went to the arcade to show off only to have you eat him with thr rags at the games there. What else could go wrong?!

At least you seem to be having fun.

Right now you're at the beach - just sitting, staring at the waves and chatting away. This whole day you've been walking around and going places and he hopes he's doing it right. It feel so foreign to him - since when does he feel nervous??

According to what the boys helped him plan, he should confess when he's walking you home. The smartest move, they said. But how should he do it?? What exactly should he say? What—

"hey, Moragi.."

Suddenly your voice takes him out of his deep thought. You're staring back at him quietly as if you're trying to gauge something.. Were you saying something important before that?

"... You've been so weird the whole day. You can tell me what's up, you know?"

He's staring at you stupidly. His mouth acts before his thoughts do.

"I like you. Like, like like you."

Silence.

"For a while now. I can't stop thinking about you. It's like you're just.. always there. The boys helped me make a plan up on.. y'know, how to tell you. That's why i took you so many places today. Maybe that's why I'm acting like a dumbass too. I was supposed to tell you that while walking you home but... yeah...."

More silence.

He's staring at your bewildered face, trying to read your what's happening in your head. Did he fuck up? Did he do something wrong?? Why are you just staring—

"Pffff.. you made a whole plan??"

That silence is filled with laughter now. Your laughter. You're cackling as if this is the funniest thing to ever happen to you. Trying to compose yourself and catch your breath, you speak trough the laughing fit.

"You know, Moragi.. you could've just, i don't know, told me? Without this whole thing?? I like you back anyway. Still thanks though. It's cute to see you put so much effort into it."

Despite the fact he's trying to play it cool or as cool as he can anyway, you can see he's clenching his fist in victory. What a dork.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧☄. *. ⋆✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Eugene

ᯓ★୭˚ May the gods be with his because they know he needs it.

ᯓ★୭˚ You've captured his heart and he only catches on after it's already too late to rationalize his brain out of being horribly down bad. He won't deny havign a crush on you but it makes his brain turn into a pudding and his thought process derails.

ᯓ★୭˚ His realization would be gradual - first he'd see you as intriguing, then you're a dear friend.. and suddenly he's having real funny thoughts. He could write off the way your eyes reflect the sunlight like a suncatcher as just an observation or the sudden image of him kissing you like you're the air he breathes as an impulse thought.. but really, how long would it take until he seen that these thoughts aren't just a one-off thing? That's when he knows he's got it real bad.

ᯓ★୭˚ He'd wait. He's paying attention and making sure you probably like him back before he does anything. After all, why would he do something if he isn't sure there's at least some chance it would be worth it? So he waits ans observes how you act, what you do and what you do and don't tell him. And once he believes you could like him back he's cooking up a plan.

ᯓ★୭˚ He might drop some hints he could be into you, but he'd let the game of plausible deniability do it's work.

ᯓ★୭˚ He wants to do it face to face. If he wants it to work he needs to have the balls to do it. Still he keeps most of it simple - he doesn't want you to catch on. Maybe. I mean, it wouldn't be too bad for you to have an inkling of something about to happen between you two, but he plans on keeping it under covers. He'd invite you to hang out and go to the cafe you both always visit, treat you a drink and something to eat, and when you leave the cafe and sit on a good spot outside he's telling you everything clear and simple.

──★°`🌙.*♪!! The cafe's chill atmosphere makes it seem like time has stopped despite the clock ticking quietly in the corner. You've been in there for the whole afternoon at that point but it still feels like you haven't been sitting for more than an hour.

And still with so much time passed there haven't been even a few minutes that minutes that aren't filled with the still ongoing conversation between you and Eugene. Topic after topic braided together, not following a particular pattern but the trains of thought going one after another.

Right now you're chatting away about a long since passed situation. Despite him already knowing the whole thing by heart, he still listens and responds. And he'd do it all over again too, if it means seeing you so up close and hearing your voice.

The only thing that stops you from going further with your talk is the lovesick look he's giving you from the other side of the table. His head is leaning on his hand for support, cheek squished against his palm and a stray gingers strand of hair falling across his forehead for his otherwise neat hairstyle. There's a content little smile across his face, his cheeks flushed with a soft peachy color. His eyes reflect the setting sun, shattering the light across them with the most gentle spark in them. Just for you.

He knows it's the moment to speak his truth, given you've finally noticed the way he's staring and the little window of silence giving him the perfect opportunity to do so.

"Hey, can i tell you something?"

You nod, not trusting your voice enough to speak properly.

"I, ah.. lately I've noticed, uh.."

Really? Right now he'll trip over his words??

Clearing his troath, he continues, his evergrowing blush becoming more and more apparent.

"I.. I love being around you. Just seeing you makes me happy. I look forward to being with you and— i just really enjoy spending time with you, and you've become someone very special to me..

I hope you feel the same way towards me too."

He's struggling to even look at you, the sudden nervousness getting the better of him. The silence on your end only makes him more nervous too.

Suddenly he feels you hands around his, just as jittery and sweaty. You're nodding vigorously when he finally looks at you and he breathes a sigh of relief, exhaling the tension.

Thank god. He wouldn't know what he'd do if you didn't like him back.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧☄. *. ⋆✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Kaoru

ᯓ★୭˚ The second he realizes he's gripping his shirt over the spot his heart is and kneeling on the ground as if he's gonna have a heart attack.

ᯓ★୭˚ He'd be so oblivious to his own feelings, given he's used to burying everything down until it volcanoes back up. So when he finally realizes, he's exploding internally. And right back into denial. He's gonna be in a limbo between being sure he likes you and denying it vehemently for a bit before finally accepting it.

ᯓ★୭˚ Not gonna lie, he's gonna be so obvious. I'd assume you're his friend already so you know the way he is - he's acting all done and sassy but it's sp clear he cares and goes out of his way to do things for you and the rest of his friends. And suddenly, he's getting all red when you're close. He's huffing and puffing when you ask someone for a favour and acts all smug when he does it before them. He watches your favourite anime and lends you your favourite manga since he just so happens to have it - but he hadn't heard of it before you introduced him to it??

ᯓ★୭˚ And, let's be real, he'd so try to have a good old school shoujo anime confession. And he plans everything out - he has picked a good cherry tree near the school, he knows what time the sun hits best, he already has the anonymous love letter asking you to meet him there.. and he chickens out of it every morning. It takes him a while until he actually goes trough with it. Waiting for the best time, he says... Oh, and the club helps him out too. Good luck.

──★°`🌙.*♪!! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He really did it.

After all this time, he finally got the balls to go trough with his plan. He wrote the letter and rewrote it for good measure, packaged it well and pretty and slid it in your locker. And the reality of the situation dawned on his just as he slipped it in. No turning back now.

All that's left is.. the whole day before school ends.

And he spends that day acting weird and finding every possible reason to avoid you as the cool-headed genius he is. He's too busy to sweat over it to pay attention to anything and anyone else anyway.

How could he face you now when he knows he has to confess to you later today?!

And sadly for him and much for the joy of everyone else, the end of the day comes much sooner than he would've liked.

Right now, he's stading stiff under the cherry tree he picked out. While waiting for you he's going over what he could possibly say when you finally arrive. The words seem to run away from him - no matter how much he's imagined and trained in the mirror, the real deal is completely different. What should he say? Where to start? What if you react badly? What exactly should—

"Oh my god, Kaoru??"

Fuck. You're here.

He turns around, still doing his best to seem cool despite the burning red color his cheeks have taken.

"Hey, uh, you're probably wondering why i called you here. Fuck— no?? I mean, obviously, you know why but— just— just let me speak, ok?

After a few seconds of silence he continues.

"I like you. I like you a lot. I've liked you for a while now. Please, go out with me.. please."

After he spent all day thinking over what to say so he can give you the most heartfelt genuine confession, all that came out of his mouth is this. Just end him now.. please.

"You're too cute, Kaoru, you know that?"

Peeling his eyes from the ground, he looks up to see you smiling brightly at him, as if his confession made your whole day.

"Of course I'll go out with you. I like you, you know? I thought it was obvious."

He's speechless. Voice left, thoughts ran away, brain short-circuited. Still, he couldn't be more grateful for the outcome.

It wasn't the cool and emotional shoujo-esque romantic confession he wanted it to be, but if you're happy with it he wouldn't have it any other way.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧☄. *. ⋆✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Tamon

ᯓ★୭˚ You know that meme with the dog?

Yup, that's him. Shhh, he just realized how down bad he is, let him process it.

ᯓ★୭˚ Another case of horrid obliviousness to his own emotions. With him, though, i think he does have a few moments where the light bulb flickers before it turns on so bright it burns his eyes. He can feel his heart flutter around you and suddenly he's sweating more than usual and he wants to hold your hand and he feels like the only person on the planet when you tell him he's dependable.. and sure, he has a few moments of thinking "they're awesome, i don't know how i even found them" and "they'd make a great boyfriend/girlfriend" and such... but when he actually, like actually, realizes he's into you? It all makes sense. He can't tell if he wants to bang his head into the wall or run to you and spill everything, but at least he has an explanation for the thoughts he's been having.

ᯓ★୭˚ I feel like you won't really notice a big difference with him even when he realizes his feelings. Not most of the time anyway. He's the same dependable and considerate Tamon you've always known - he's just gonna go out of his way to be around you a bit more. He'd walk you from home to school and from school to home even if he lives in the opposite direction, he's hanging out with you whenever he can, he just wants to be there. And every now and then he's weirdly red or suddenly flustered.. and don't tell him if you do, but you might catch him staring at you. Just observing, looking at you like you pull the sun into the sky every morning and hang the stars in the sky every night. Let him be.

ᯓ★୭˚ He doesn't plan on confessing. Ever. He'd rather die than possibly risk the great friendship between you so far. You're just too good for him to do anything stupid, you know? And then he spill the beans on accident. He will remember the embarrassment and terror he felt in the few seconds of silence for life.

──★°`🌙.*♪!! It's the dead of night, a calm atmosphere taken over the quiet hours. The sky is clear and the moon gleams bright across the sky, the stars making way for it across the midnight blue sky. It's so silent the only thing other than the gentle wind you'll hear are the squeaks of the bats and the occasional birds cooing softly. That, and the hushed whispers of you and Tamon on the phone.

You've been on the phone with him for hours. You won't stay up late tonight, you said. Just for a bit, you said. And there you are, still trying to keep your giggles quiet and voice down.

By now you've played countless games and talked about anything and everything that comes to mind, the late time bringing out the honesty in both of you. Right now you're laying comfortably on your bed, a cool gust of wind swishing from your window into your room, bringing a soft fresh scent along with it.

"— oh my god, do you know what i heard recently? This guy from the other class might have a crush on you!"

How it got to that topic, neither you not he knows.

"Shut up, Tamon. Are you for real?"

"I said i heard about it, can't promise you it's the truth. He really seems like it, though. It's not like i can't blame him anyway."

.. huh?

"Dude, what? What do you mean??"

"I mean, like, i can't blame him for liking you. I can see why."

"Sure thing, Casanova."

"No, I mean it. Genuinely. You're probably one of the kindest people on earth. Sure, you're kind of a dick sometimes, but i don't think I've ever met someone as genuinely kind and considerate. And you're so talented too. And you're passionate. You've seen what you can do when you put work into things. Also it's so easy to talk to you. I can talk to you for the whole day and the whole night and not even notice. And i can look at you without my stomach churning too. Sure, the fact that you're gorgeous helps, but my point stands. I can't blame him for liking you. Its not like I'm any better anyway."

Oh my god.

He did not just fucking spill that.

"Say it to my face then."

Why is everyone saying things without thinking??

Silence.

Peep. He closed the call.

Fuck.

He's not responding. He's not picking up your calls. He's not texting back either. Hell, he's not even looking at them.

Did you scare him away? Does he hate you now?

No matter what questions swirl in your mind, you can't have the answers when he's not responding. In the end, it seems better to leave it for the morning rather than stress over it right now.

Turning and tossing around over your soft covers, exhaustion seems to finally lead you into sleep after sweating and shedding a few panicked tears over your current situation.

Exhaling quietly, burning anxiety makes way for the quiet rest you desperately need, after 15 minutes of panic.

Thunk.

Or maybe not.

Ponk. Tink.

What the hell? Are those— are those pebbles?? What's throwing fucking pebbles into your room at this hour?!

"Pssst. Hey! Hey!"

You stick your head out of your window so fast you almost fall over from the sheer force of the movement.

And there he is - Tamon. He's breathing hard, burning red and sweaty, still in pajamas, his bike tossed to the side. His voice is a hushed yell, but you still hear him.

Darting out your bedroom door, you practically fly down the stairs to open the door and face him directly.

Now actually face to face with him, all and any words vanish from your mind, leaving you to stare at him stupidly.

"I meant it."

He seems panicked, but it's clear he's genuine. Up close, the redness of his face is even more obvious, along with the sheen of sweat across his forehead. He must've really gone fast on the bike if he's that out of breath.

"I really meant it. Please don't stop talking with me."

"Tamon, you idiot! You gave me a heart attack! I like you back, you—"

Tamon learnt two things that night. First thing is, he should think not twice but three times before talking after midnight. Second thing - he should've told you he likes you a long time ago. He couldn't be happier anyway.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧☄. *. ⋆✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Ichimiya

ᯓ★୭˚ My king in DENIAL.

ᯓ★୭˚ He'd rather go and tell everyone he's into that ghost geek shit before he confesses his love for you. And believe me, he's got it BAD. He knows just how bad it it. He's fully aware of how much space you take up in his mind and how much you fill his heart. Every smile, every look, every conversation, every simple act of kindness makes his heart soar. Everything about you makes him jolt in his seat like he's been electrocuted and melt like a sugar cube simultaneously. And the fact he's always a shade of pinkish red around you doesn't help either.

ᯓ★୭˚ Everyone around him knows. The student council is well aware that he wants you, despite the fact he vehemently denies it. Thing is, they don't know if you know it too. And they don't wanna meddle. If you know it and they bring it up could make everything weird, and if you don't know they could still mess it all up. Also, they'd have to deal with the wrath of their enraged student council president - and who is crazy enough to deal with that?

ᯓ★୭˚ Ichimiya likes to think the confession would be heartfelt and very well planned. He imagines something special just for you, with him going out of his way to do a truly memorable thing. He falls asleep to his own far-fetched dreams of being with you, and they always start with a cheesy confession. In reality, it's nothing like that for two reasons. He'd confess impulsively if something pushes him to that point - to act before thinking. Also he wouldn't have the balls to go through with his original plans anyway. Maybe it's better something's pushed him enough..

──★°`🌙.*♪!! This whole day has been like Ichimiya's personal purgatory reincarnated.

First, turns out some documents that should've been handled by the student council got messed up, meaning he'd have to fix everything personally. After that he was given a surprise test, and he didn't have enough time to finish the last -and most important - question. After that the fanboys his friends from the council decided it would be a good idea to try to make plans for the weekend, which he absolutely did not want to attend to. And then they decided to bring you up. You, and how close you seem to some nobody from the other class.

Thats when everything soured even further.

What do they mean you're that close with someone he hasn't even heard of? Wasn't he your closest friend? What does that random have that he doesn't? Are you tired of him? Do you like that guy better than Ichimiya?

All these thoughts spiral down in his head, internally making him panic and sweat over a thing he hasn't even seen personally. Outside, though, it seems like he's trying to poison the rest of the council just trough a venomous, burning stare - their cue to shut up.

And from then his whole mood for the rest of the week is spoiled. And for the next one too.

By now, he's been weird with you for about two weeks. He'd avoid you like the plague and ignore you until you just decide to leave, and then cling to you like you're the only person on earth for a bit before returning to his previous treatment.

In the beginning it seemed like it was just something stressing him out about the council, but it's gone on for too long to really believe that assumption.

Finally having had enough when he bailed on you on lunch without a word, you storm into the student council room to find him.

And there is he - sitting to the side, Sunao and Yoshiki animatedly talking about something before abruptly going silent when you enter the room.

Giving a scorching look to Ichimiya, internally he feels like crying despite returning the mean look. You turn around to look at the two other boys, asking them to excuse themselves and leave you alone with Ichimiya for a bit.

Normally they would've said something, but the tension is too thick for them to even try to protest, so they leave quietly.

Ichimiya can feel his features twitch worriedly, mouth pressed into anxious thin line, biting the inside of his mouth. He can feel his intimidating mask slip by habit, the distress seeping trough his cold expression.

"Ichimiya, what the fuck is up with you?!"

Man, he fucked up.

"You've been so weird for two weeks. Two weeks! You bail on me, ignore me, send me away and basically run away at just the sight of me, but then you come around and you're so clingly, and then you start avoiding me again! What is your problem?!"

He really fucked up.

And despite that, he can't bring himself to be honest with you. The anxiety and the impulse to still try and uphold his image gets the better of him.

"It's nothing. You can hang around someone else anyway. Don't you have that other friend to go bother?"

"I don't want to hang around someone else, i want to hang around you. What does he have to do with that anyway?"

".. forget it."

A tense silence creeps up after that, but it's short-lived.

"... please, Ichimiya. Just talk to me. Please."

He doesn't dare to look at you, just the quiet pain and desperation are enough to erode his mask almost completely. The guilt of not telling you the truth us eating him alive, but he just can't get the words out.

"Listen, i.. just— i can't say it. Please don't make me say it."

You continue to stare silently in disbelief at him, trying to gauge exactly what he refuses to say. His expression is a scorned pout, him biting the inside of his cheeks and looking down.. in shame? He looks... embarrassed. And guilty, and awkward.

What does he have to be embarrassed about anyway? High and mighty intimidating school council president, looking shamefully at the ground after acoiding you and all but blaming some other student for that. What could even that guy have to do with—

Oh.

Oh.

A spark flashes across your face, a small grin of amusement at the absurd situation breaking out.

"Oh my god, are you—"

"Don't say it.. please, don't."

"You're jealous!"

Now he's looking at the ground not in guilt but in absolute burning embarrassment. His arms are clasped in front of his chest, but he keeps quiet.

"Why are you so jealous anyway? What's the big deal about this guy—"

Nevermind. His head shoots up and he's staring directly at you in disbelief, mouth slightly agape in shock at the question.

"Are you serious? Is it not obvious enough?! I like you, damn it! How can you not notice that??"

Another moment if silence comes upon the room, but this time he isn't really sure if he messed up or did the right thing.

"... Really? You like me, for real??"

The hope in your voice tell him he did the right thing, thank god.

And despite that, he'll never live down the shame of having his confession brought upon by petty jealousy and pouting. He doesn't regret it though, not if that means he finally has you.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆.˚✮•🌺•✮˚.⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

it's kinda obvious who my favourites are ngl,,

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ as always, request are open n welcome!

[rosakuma]

FINALE PREDICTIONS FOR CH.5 TRAPPER, VICTIM, KILLER, SURVIVORS AND OTHER STUFF!

Hey sooo…..Tetro Pink ending soon with this and next Friday. Apologies for not making any post about the previous batch of episodes but they were…..a lot. Anyways! I am of course very sad and scared we’re close to the end of this fun tragic ride of Tetro Pink, but before we get to the finale BDA and trial next week. I want to crack a shot at who I think is dying, who’s responsible for the traps, who’s surviving, and what will happen after the trial. Now some of my predictions are just going to be a mixture of theory crafting with some evidence and just “I have a gut feeling about it”. None of what I’m going to say obviously going to be true(I mean look at my ch.4 prediction ), but I just want to give out my reasoning for each for fun!

Spoilers for ch.5 up to this point and kinda everything before ch.5

Okay getting started, let’s go over who I think did the traps, notes, stole wada’s stash, getting Ken and Ojima high and drunk, and who planted the drugs. Then we’ll get into who I think has the most victim and killer vibes. And finally the survivors and what might happen.

The traps, notes, and the reason behind it

With how frequent they keep getting from going from a gasoline bucket to a chloride, a bomb and then hatchet!? Yeah this is getting intense, but time to figure out who I think it is. Yeah its Ken Hasegawa.

Looking at all of the current suspects, it really boils down to Ken.

For starters we can easily eliminate Mai due to her at first accidentally triggering the traps intended for someone else and how the later ones are intended for her to find.

Hiroaki and Tamba were supposed to be the victims of the first two traps, so it would be weird for either to set the rest clearly for Mai. You could make the argument that the gasoline one was for Hiroaki by Tamba and the locker one was for Tamba by Hiroaki. But it's strange why Tamba would resort to violence towards him because during that point of the story, she clarified that she’s only going to stalk him to see if he’s suspicious and if he is, she’ll just hold him hostage until another murder happens. While for Hiroaki its strange because he clearly doesn't want to hurt or have anything to do with her and just want her to leave him alone. Also he doesn't know her schedule well to know when she would hit that trap.

Wada and Yanagi are a double package in terms of their own body betrays them. Specifically that Wada starving himself made him too weak for him to commit any of the traps with how he has to carry buckets full of gasoline and caltrops and even a ladder or chair to reach high enough for both the art room and locker room doorframe. Wada is 5’1, so he would have to get a ladder/chair to reach up there, but risk of being caught is too much for him. This kinda applies to Tamba too since she’s short(5’2 to be exact), although she is technically strong enough to lift a ladder/chair, but the risk of being caught too much. While for Yanagi, sure he’s tall enough to reach the doorframe of both rooms, so that’s not a problem. But there’s the fact Yanagi has both a concussion he’s recovering from and his hand being messed up still from Decision Game(Von even confirm that his hand in a permanent relaxed fist position). So he runs the risk of either collapsing from his symptoms of his concussion coming back or trying to lift up a heavy bucket filled with gasoline/caltrops one handed. There’s also the emotional factors with these two as the target neither of them would want to hurt on purpose even if the traps doesn't kill the person.

And then there’s Ojima who while tall enough with being 6’3, he runs into the emotional attachment factor(him caring for Hiroaki) and the fact he dissociates often to where he would be unable to set any of these traps. Especially with running the risk of easily being caught.

So all that leaves is Ken who has a good explaination for each of these concerns we might have. Reaching the door frame? Ken is 6’2 he’s tall enough to reach it without needing a ladder. Ken while nice to the others, isn’t that emotionally close/attach to them(due to him only staying by Kamimura’s side and never developing any further friendships with those alive) to struggle doing something to them that can possibly kill them. No physical barriers that prevent him from setting these up(yes he lose his eye, but that doesn't mean he can’t do anything still). And he’s not really accounted for where he was at for most of these events. Not to mention another thing that possible supports this theory is the fact he told Hiroaki that he was going to the storage room to find sealant for the cold lockers. And what happened soon afterwards? Oh nothing except a bomb blew up in a book that the note Mai received told her to. Which btw Hasegawa frequent the library most of the time too, where he would know where that specific book would be. And if Ken the trap setter, then he also has to be the note writer for Tamba’s death threat with how these new notes connect to the first one in trying to get Mai to trigger these traps and get to them. Especially since she’s the only one stubborn and stupid enough to continue doing them(sorry Mai Mai ily still). This also works with him being with Tamba before she found the note, so honestly he could’ve found out she’s going to the locker room after a certain amount of time and decided to plant it before she got there.

But why would he do all of this? My current running theory is that Ken has figured out something to help them escape somehow, but cannot directly speak it out loud. So to cause distraction from the doctors and Monomoko not catching onto him. He’s doing all of this to both distract everyone else with new worries popping up, distract the overseers into thinking he’s planning a murder, and to get Mai to specifically help him without telling her directly the plan. Hence, why the latest note mentions if she continues to follow the notes to help them all escape, Tamba will live and how this trapper needs her strength. Not to mention Mai is right that despite the traps hurting her, they’re not deadly to where they’re going to straight up kill her(I mean we can argue the bomb and hatchet, but she’s still kicking soooo…yeah). This can still fit with Hasegawa’s character in not wanting to really hurt or kill anyone despite not really bonding with anyone on a deeper level like he did with Toshi.

Now let’s get to next on the list of:

Wada’s Stash

There are two main suspects I have for who has possible done this. Those being Hasegawa and Tamba. Going over how they could’ve done it first, both these two have investigated the dorms before and have found his stash. Its possible either could remember the location of it to take it. Along with the fact a lot of people here keep forgetting to lock their doors too. But then there’s the factor that anyone still could’ve done it with most alive have seeing Wada’s room(Ojima when fixing his computer, Mai and Shigeki when investigating in ch.3). Another problem is what if he just moved his stash in his room somewhere else? How would they remember to find it then while being quick as possible to sneak in? Though I’ll still suspect these two based off of the motivation for each.

For Ken, it could connect with his plan if we go with my theory on him setting the traps. Somehow stealing Wada’s stash was important in terms of his plan. Perhaps as just another distraction for Wada and Mai to deal with. Or maybe Wada was hiding something else in his stash that Ken noticed before he would need. Plus it is possible even if Wada moved it, Ken was in his room before again during [Quick Check] since he agreed to help Wada with his selective mutism. Maybe he was searching Wada’s room to know where it is while Wada was chatting with Hiroaki.

Now what about Tamba that makes her a suspicious candidate? Well this mostly goes down to two things. 1. Tamba has always been the one who keeps going on about Wada’s stash since she doesn't like how he’s hoarding all this food from everyone. Not to mention getting on Wada about how much he eats. And 2. Her current paranoia could’ve caused her to maybe camp out somewhere(probably her dorm room before moving out due to the punishment).

So you might be wondering “Well why would she risk stealing from Wada’s room and not just…stock up in the kitchen or any remaining food left in the storage room?”. Well for the storage room, we don’t know if Wada actually did take all the food there plus its never restocked, so its hard to keep on inventory to be sure if something was there before or not. While for the kitchen….y’all remember what happened to Isono right? Staying in the kitchen to get something to eat, only to get her head bashed in by the only other person there. Yeah Tamba not taking a chance I bet if it was her.

Highsegawa and Drunkjima

Ok so this one is kinda hard since we don't know what exactly got Ken high and Ojima drunk. We’ll get Ken out of the way first.

So somehow Ken got himself high after the defence game. I’ve seen some say maybe he did this to himself to ease the pain. To which searching it up, it does say “THC or CBD binds to specific receptors on the brain and nerve cells, which slows pain impulses and eases discomfort.” So honestly it's possible. But Ken’s reaction may discourage this a bit. But okay let’s say regardless if Ken did this to himself or someone else, who got the THC and where from?

My only guesses are that its either from the medbay OR it was someone’s reward. And the only two people we know now that got an reward from Defence game is Tamba and Wada. But I have no clue why they would want to make Hasegawa high unless they were trying to help him I guess in a way to ease the pain? Knowing now that Wada was the one that picked the bodily sacrifice punishment for everyone, which caused Ken to lose his eye, maybe if its an reward that Wada received, he gave it to Ken due to feeling bad about what happened. They were both in the dining hall before Hiroaki and Ojima came in on the day Ken ended up high.

Okay so moving onto Takeshi. I think he got himself drunk. Let me explain. So the two times it seems he got himself drunk was after a love confession. The first one being himself slipping that he loves Hiroaki to him. While the second is Hiroaki saying he loves him back when Ojima waking up from his hangover. Each time, Ojima went to or remained in the art room where him and Hiroaki is sleeping. But then there’s the question “Where did Ojima get alcohol to drink in the paint room?” Well well well, who said it had to be alcohol? Apparently according to the web, you can actually get drunk off paint fumes. “In general, the effects appear similar to the effects of alcohol intoxication. Depending on the time spent inhaling, one may begin to feel a slight stimulant effect and a loss of inhibitions. As the chemicals take effect, the person will often feel as if they are intoxicated by alcohol.” So its likely that Ojima might’ve been huffing paint to forget about the love confession incidents. Though if not the love confession for why he’s getting himself drunk, then maybe it's his new way of coping with his trauma coming back to him to try not to space out. Or alternatively he’s doing this to cope with recent events of hurting others. Either way I am very concerned about this and I hope he stops(especially if he survives after all of this).

The Drugs

This one also still has me stumped. Sure I could just say it was leftovers from when Okazaki took them or that Ken planted them since I think he’s the trap setter. But I’m pretty sure that she used up all of Hiroaki’s drugs, these seem to be new, and Idk if Ken was planning yet to do anything that drastic to get Hiroaki to relapse. My only guess really if it’s not Ken or leftovers Hiroaki forgot about is that Tamba planted them.

I know that’s might be a reach since Tamba and Hiroaki didn’t start fully beefing with each other until she got the note. But let’s think about their relationship before hand. With this chapter revealing a lot about Tamba’s feelings on Hiroaki, with the spotlight as an added bonus that gives more insight, it’s clear she never hold a high opinion of him. Tamba did like Hiroaki a bit, but in a way she felt like she didn’t have to behave well since well Hiroaki way worse than her in comparison, so no one will really focus on her than him. And before all of this with the death threat and Watari’s trial, there was the stairwell incident(well the first one that is). Tamba almost hurt or potentially killed Hiroaki down the stairs because she was very paranoid. She didn’t mean to of course, but this was kinda brush off by her and some of the others despite Hiroaki being really upset about it. But that didn’t matter since during this time after the trial, Ojima and him were discussing a plan for him to apologize to everyone.

Hiroaki discovered the drugs before he apologized to Tamba and the others. So I could see with it being the finale trial where they have to just go through one more murder to get this done and over with that maybeeeeee….Tamba decided to make Hiroaki overdose so it counts as a suicide and they all get out scot free. To which staff side confirm if Hiroaki overdose from those drugs, it would count as a suicide. I know Tamba doesn’t have a way to know that’s completely true, but she doesn’t really think through anyways with things sometimes. Plus it would be a perfect plan as no one would probably guess it was her who planted them and just assumed that Hiroaki found them himself and did it because he’s an addict. So even if it does count as a murder, Tamba would win it and we know she’s not willing to die even to save Mai or Shigeki from her student spotlight.

Okay now it’s time to go through who’s potentially on the chopping block this chapter!

Before we do, let’s go over where everyone’s currently at the moment.

Hiroaki & Ojima- Balcony

Wada- Was in the hallway with Ojima presumably on the first or second floor, now should be back in the hallway by the stairwell with Mai and Tamba.

Ken & Yanagi- Both are trapped in the medbay/morgue, presumedly overnight.

Tamba & Mai- Both still at the bottom of the stairwell around the basement level near the hallways.

Going through this, I think really the most vulnerable at the moment of who could be killed is Yanagi and Ken right now. Sure Wada is at a vulnerable moment too of being caught, but the only person right now that could kill him is Mai. To which I doubt she would and plus, Tamba would know because Mai was with her while she was crying in pain from her fracture.

So unless Ken and Shigeki are let out by sometime tomorrow, I don’t think they’re going to be safe. There’s also the fact someone lock them in there and….yeah I think one of them did it and I think it was Ken. I don’t know why exactly, but when you rewatch the episode they get trapped in, Ken is the one to go to the door. He messes with it before saying it’s locked and Yanagi coming over to try opening it.

You could say maybe it was Hiroaki who lock the door to prevent Tamba from getting help. But that doesn’t make sense. There was a short time frame from when Ken and Shige went to the medbay and Ojima and Wada heading upstairs to find Hiroaki. The balcony not on the same level as the medbay is. So basically Hiroaki would’ve have to been camping out near the medbay to them, lock them in, and then rush upstairs without anyone noticing? Very unlikely and I do think he ran up stairs to hide near the balcony. Wada and Ojima were already upstairs. So Mai would have to be the only one who could’ve lock them in if it was a third party. But she obviously wouldn’t because why the hell would she lock the people in who’s trying to help Tamba? This entire chapter has her trying to find out who’s doing all of this and targeting Tamba for her sake of safety!

So yeah I think Ken lock him and Shigeki in the medbay. But I’m not 100% sure why. My guess is it might have to do with something with his plan, but I’m still not sure.

As for how this murder might go….all I can think of is somebody going to die via a trap.

Okay murder aside since I don’t have much to say, let’s just go down the list of who I think is dying as a victim or killer.

Victim(s)

Yanagi Shigeki- Yeah Yanagi high on my list for becoming the victim of this chapter. With how much importance it’s put on Yanagi protecting Mai. I have a feeling that knight’s oath will be the end of him as perhaps Mai might trigger another trap and he will try to save her by knocking her out of the way of it. Even if not through a trap, whoever trap him in that medbay whether it’s Ken or not surely doesn’t have have good plans for him. Also he confessed his feelings to Mai and this is Danganronpa, so of course he’s going to die before Mai can tell him her feelings about him too.

Hayashi Mai- Now I’m not fully sure if Mai dying or not as the victim as much as I was before we found out her reward is her vote being the only one voted as a solo vote. But there’s still a good chance she can be on the chopping block due to maybe the killer wanting to get rid of her pronto as she holds a lot of power right now. Plus if the trap setter is actually planning for a murder to happen, it could be hers.

Ojima Takeshi- So Ojima I was for sure thinking was going to die last chapter….he did not. But this chapter I am really afraid that might finally happen. I think most likely with how he’s a risk with falling into any deadly traps with his daydreaming or the fact he’s getting himself drunk can lead to this outcome. Plus the fact he also did a love confession this chapter as well isn’t a good sign for him and Hiroaki. Not to mention how tragic his death would be with last chapter focusing on how he’s afraid of dying young or that he’ll never be able to have a future with how much his lift been ruined by his parents and uncle.

As for the others, I didn’t put any for Hiroaki, Tamba, and Wada as I think they’re all red herrings in terms of dying. As for Ken, I don’t think he’s dying either as I think he’s going to play a big importance in this case.

Killer(s)

Wait why is it the exact same people + Ken? Lol yeah I also think the 3 picks I chose for the victims can alternatively be the killers in my eyes. This is kinda mixture on fitting any potential tragedy themes we could have for them while Ken is something I was thinking logically could happen.

Yanagi Shigeki- So if Yanagi’s not on the chopping block as the victim, then I feel like killer most likely would happen too. Now keep this in mind, him including my other picks minus the last one I’m thinking are going to get the Hama treatment in terms of accidental killing someone without realizing their actions did. So it would be tragic for Yanagi to actually be the finale killer compared to ch.1 where he was accused/framed as the killer of Isono. Especially with how the one who will be executing him is Mai…the woman he loves. And the worse part is, he would accept it as he rather save her and everyone else than his own life. After fall, his knight’s oath swears to protect her.

Hayashi Mai- Now if Mai instead ends up on the tragic accidental killer route, it would fit with how her falling into the mastermind’s trap of following all these notes and traps lead to her being turn into the killer. She would basically have to vote for herself to be killed just to save everyone….and you know she will. She swore to protect everyone and get them out alive right? So if she must, she will. Also how depressing if all of this happens and Yanagi the victim too? The man she might love who ended up confessing to her died because of her hands. Some Romeo and Juliet stuff right there man.

Ojima Takeshi- I feel so evil for this one, but this is kinda something I both don’t and want. It would fit soooo well in the tragedy of development this chapter has for Ojima with having him be afraid of hurting people to end up killing someone(albeit accidentally through a stupid trap). Which it’s possible even more now not because of him dissociating, but because he keeps ending up drunk. Just imagine a drunk Takeshi ends up triggering a trap that ends up killing someone else and he just stares at them. Dissociating from the whole event because he thinks he did it. To then have Hiroaki defend him the whole trial, seeming to save him only to be proven wrong and it’s true that Takeshi is counted as the killer of this case. Also while it would suck in a way if Ojima dies for Hiroaki’s development, it makes sense for it to happen. Up to this point, Hiroaki didn’t lose anyone close to him. Sure, he did lose Chiba and Tsuno, but he didn’t get to develop those bonds further than he would like to and sadly didn’t treat them right when they were alive as well. Ojima been the only one he’s been close to since day one he cares about from beginning to end. To lose him allows him to show the vulnerability he’s been hiding from the whole group this entire time and cement how he’s just like the rest of them. A scared teenager who loss someone they care and even loved thanks to this horrible game.

Hasegawa Ken- Okay so Ken really not that high on my list as while I do think he set up all of these traps, I don’t think he’s going to be counted as a killer seeing how Watari’s trial works and the fact staffside confirm that if Okazaki only killed Tsuno via trap, it counts as a suicide due to Tsuno opening the trap door. But in the scenario he does, yeah he might be on the chopping block as the killer. Though I will say it would be cool if he does end up as the killer, he somehow escapes his execution with how most likely he has a plan for him and everyone to escape.

So that leaves the remainder as who I think will be the survivors are:

Hiroaki Nakamigawa

Wada Masanari

Tamba Ruiko

Hasegawa Ken

and whoever out of my 3 picks escapes both the victim and killer allegations. To which if you want me to bet who, then I’m betting Mai.

After all of that, how do I think Pink is going to end? Well for starters we know it’s next week as it’s confirm we only have 2 Tetro Fridays left. So definitely no chapter six and the epilogue is most likely going to be just be on the same day as the trial.

I have 3 scenarios that I believe in. Spoiler alert, I don’t believe in the solo survivor theory via killer wining or battle royale or memory erase theory. So no mentions of those for these.

Scenario 1: Escape from the School!

So this theory is that after the trial during the execution, the students are going to escape with a plan thanks to Ken. This might involve them raiding the arsenal for weapons or a reward one of them won on one of the previous games. This can also maybe save the killer of this chapter and result in us having 6 survivors instead of 5! Alternatively if not themselves allowing their escape, imagine if Monomoko helps them escape since there’s still a good conscience in them. Eventually everyone gets out, steals a car, and boom! They all escape free and swear revenge on these people for doing this to them.

Scenario 2: So can I go home now?

It just simply happens. After the trial, everyone gets to go home as promised. Of course they’re taken outside probably in bags and transported to a secluded area away from the lab so they themselves can figure out the way back to their homes together. Too much of a risk to just simply drive them all home obviously. This allows the students to if they desire give each other their contacts and travel home first, then swear revenge on their captors later.

Scenario 3: *Vanishes out of Thin Air*

This is relatively the same as the previous scenario, except Monomoko just teleport them all back to their homes. Just poof! They’re gone. At most we might get a hint of one of the students deciding to try to seek out the others so they can figure out what happen to them all and who done this to them. Especially since they need to figure out what to tell the public for some of them.

To which after any of these scenarios it just cuts to Yonekura like usual, as they prepare the next set of students….

We’ll see if I got anything right from these! See y’all tomorrow, I’m so scared rn!

[fedoraspooky]

I Only Have E̢̡y͓͜e̞͖̦ for You

Wrote a story starring these two dingdongs! (my Felix and Steamboat Willie ttrpg expies for the folks just tuning in XD)

Summary: While trying to get some shuteye, Frank's sleep is interrupted by a mysterious dripping noise...

Contains cosmic horror, mentions of smoking and drinking (these guys are 1920's-era toons and this is a noir 1940s Roger Rabbit kinda setting so, yeah comes with the territory), and two guys that may smooch eventually in the future but at this point in time are kinda woefully oblivious. Enjoy!

***

Sheesh... 

What a day. 

Didn't start off too bad for ol' Frank, all things considered; he and Ollie had just wrapped up solving one of their biggest capers they'd had in a while, in which the Mad Mechanic had stolen important mechanical parts from various labs to build an army of... "vampire robots". 

To be honest, Frank still couldn't quite wrap his head around how that was supposed to work- did they drink oil or blood? Were they supposed to only attack other robots? Who knows! They certainly didn't take well to quaffin' ink, that's for sure. They took even WORSE to the garlic crust pizzas Ollie had brought them under the guise of a pizza delivery guy. One bite, and they exploded on the spot. All the two had to do after that was scoop up the stolen parts from the floor, dump 'em off back where they belonged, and bam- Problem solved! 

Despite Frank being a little woozy at the time from getting bit to hell and back, the Mad Mechanic himself wasn't much of a fighter on his own, so Frank was still able to make short work of him. Tied that fella up in a nice little bow of his own body for the police to swing by and pick up, and the two were on their way, ignoring the angry villainous monologue about revenge and whatnot being hurled at them. To be honest, Frank wasn't really paying attention... Because at that point, he discovered he'd had seven whole dollars in his coat pocket the whole time! Hot dog! 

Needless to say, he ended up doing what he usually did when he discovered the writers of the current episode were kind enough to give him any amount of cash: blew it right away on a celebratory night of booze and good eats! Ollie couldn’t come with, but… eh, whatever, more for him! After all, what's the point of saving what you probably weren't going to have in the next episode anyways? 

— 

…‘Probably shoulda saved at least SOME of it to call a cab’, Frank thought miserably as he trudged along the drenched sidewalk later that night. It was raining like nobody's business out here, and the occasional gust of cold wind kept threatening to turn his umbrella inside-out. On the bright side, at least he hadn't drank himself completely silly to the point of fist-fighting lamp posts, thinking they were sea serpents... He did NOT want Ollie to find him like that, not ever again. As things stood now, he was a little buzzed, but to his credit he still had most of his wits about him. Enough to still be able to walk home, anyway. He only stumbled a coupla times! No big deal. 

Frank stopped in his tracks, grimacing as a car blew past and sent a tidal wave of cold, filthy puddle over him. With an annoyed growl, he grabbed his whole torso up in his hands and twisted, wringing the excess water from himself, before letting go and spinning back into place. He then smacked the side of his head a few times to get any remaining water out of his ears, until a live, wriggling tuna fish fell out of one, landing with a wet slap on the concrete. He paused, eyebrows raised as he watched it flop around. He then glanced to the side.

...Would it be weird if he ate that?

Making sure no one was looking, he whistled nonchalantly as he picked it up and slipped it into his hammerspace for later.

It took a fair bit more walking before Frank stopped, something in his gut telling him this was where he was supposed to be right now. Well... 'supposed to' was probably a strong way to put it. In all truthfulness, his continuity was a hot mess, but by this point in his life he was very well used to just rolling with it. Seemed like the only thing directly involving himself that ever stayed consistent throughout the years was, well... himself. The real him, anyway. 

Yes sir, just him and his baggage. Match made in heaven... 

Turning to face the building, he looked up at the mismatched brick walls, the dingy windows, and crooked rain spout that just seemed to be hanging on by a thread. Real charmin' place. And of course, as he resignedly reached into his pocket and felt his fingers wrap around a room key, he knew with a sinking feeling that this dump was where he lived... for this episode, anyway. Not permanently. 

Never permanently. 

"Guess this's good a place as any to park my carcass," he grumbled.

Not wanting to stand out here in the dark and the on-again, off-again rain any longer, he made his way inside, closing his umbrella and shaking off the excess rainwater before it turned back into his tail. It slithered over his arm like a snake on a tree branch, returning to its rightful place on his rear as he ascended the stairs and made his way to... whichever room felt right to him. The key fit.

Turning on the light, he half expected to see a sea of roaches scattering, but thankfully there were no bugs to be found. Actually, looking at it... It wasn't too bad! Despite this technically being the first time he ever walked in here, it appeared pretty lived in, and it did indeed contain several belongings that he recognized as his own. The place had its issues too, but thankfully on inspection, he could conclude that bed bugs were NOT one of them. Damn good thing, too, because he was exhausted. 

And going through the whole rigamarole of getting ready for bed would be even MORE exhausting! If only he had some kind of handy magical artifact of sorts that could do it all for him…

…But he didn't!

So instead, he just turned the lights off, unzipped the front of his outfit and stepped out of it like it was a costume, before crashing unceremoniously into bed in just his undershirt and a pair of boxers. He could deal with whatever he needed to in the morning, if it didn't fix itself already while he was out. 

... 

Drip. 

...As a toon, sleeping went one of two ways. Most likely, one would sleep like a brick through the night with little fuss, if any... However, there was also the possibility that it could end up being a night where everything in the world would seemingly conspire to keep a poor sap awake for the sake of comedy. 

Drip. 

... 

Drip. 

As Frank was roused from his sleep by what sounded like the drip of a faucet, his tired mind knew right away that it would be the latter. Groaning, he shoved his head under the pillow, but it was no use. He then tried shoving the pillow into one ear until it popped out the other, but…

Drip.

Nope. He could still hear it, and probably would until he actually DID something about it. Tossing the pillow down in frustration, he scowled in the direction of the sound and rolled out of bed to go look. 

In his tired stupor he'd grabbed up a sock off the ground on the way out of the bedroom, fully prepared to plug up the faucet with it if need be. Sure, it would probably explode the plumbing and cause a flood from too much water buildup or what have you, but he didn't care as long as he could get a few more minutes of shuteye before it did... 

However, when he got to the kitchen, he found the sink was bone dry. No leaks here. 

... 

Drip. 

Frank bolted upright from inspecting the kitchen faucet, his tail bristling into an exclamation point before tapping him on the shoulder and pointing towards the hallway like it was a hand motioning with a thumb. Oh duh, right! 

The bathroom! 

He hurried over and almost tore the door off its hinges from how quickly he flung it open, only to find the sink here... wasn't... leaking, either. 

Huh... 

Somethin' smelled off about all this. 

No, literally, there was a strange smell in the air, kinda... Ozone-y? Criminy, where was that coming from? Did an old television set crawl in here and die? Only thing he could tell with any certainty was that it wasn't a gas leak. No, those smelled different…

"This is really startin' ta give me a headache," he growled under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to fend off the growing sense of pressure in his temples that he knew would develop into an ache soon. No @#$!in' way he was starting to veer into hangover territory this soon, he didn't even have that much to drink! ...Or did he...? He had been a little bummed out that he was celebrating alone… But there’s no way he’d let himself go overboard because he was feelin’ a little blue, right? He struggled to recall exactly how much he had through the forming headache, but swiftly shrugged it off. Bah! Doesn't matter, he could still think just fine! He's fine.

Nothin’ a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix!

Drip.

Just as he was about to turn around and look elsewhere, he remembered that the sink wasn't the only faucet in a bathroom. Turning to the shower curtain, he reached out to pull it back, but... Then he hesitated, his hand stopping just inches from the plastic. 

It was faint, but he could hear what sounded like rushing water, and a genre-savvy part of him half expected for just a moment that if he yanked the curtain back, someone would inexplicably be showering behind it, only to scream and whack him with a scrub brush for peepin'.

However, as soon as he had that thought, he shook his head and let out a half-chuckle, feeling ridiculous about the whole thing. Sheesh, he really MUST be sleep-deprived if that sounded reasonable. Something like that might’ve happened in one of his older cartoons, but this current setting he was in was at least a little more down to earth than his earlier outings. Really hard to shake those old instincts sometimes, heh… Shower's not even running, stupid! That shhhh sound was probably just water goin' through the plumbing. 

Sure enough, he pulled back the curtain and no one was showering in his tub. In fact, the... faucet here wasn't... dripping, either. None of 'em were. 

…

Drip. 

-SO WHERE IN THE HECK WAS THAT SOUND COMING FROM?? 

Frustrated, Frank whirled on the spot, but just as he was about to storm out of the room, he felt it. 

A small drop of something cold and wet hit his back, and... Maybe it was something about the viscosity of it, or the way it sent an odd shock down his spine that gave him the heebie-jeebies, but something told him this wasn't water. 

And of course, his luck being what it was, in an effort to get out of the way of further drips, he stepped in a damn puddle of the stuff. Naturally. 

"YEEOWCH!" 

Not only was it searingly cold enough to send a shock of pain up his leg, but it immediately made his foot go numb, followed by a godawful sensation of pins and needles.

Frank reflexively pulled away and backed up so fast that he very nearly tripped over the toilet, but caught himself on the sink before he could hit the ground. He had to get whatever the hell this stuff was off his foot pronto, so in an act of desperation he jammed it into the toilet bowl and flushed.

And wouldn't ya know it, by some stupid miracle, it worked! The tingling dissipated, and as feeling returned to his limb, he could see faint trails of something washing down the drain... 

Couldn't get a good look at it before it was gone, but that didn't matter, because just a quick glance to the side was the puddle, and it- No. 

No way, it couldn't- 

He grimaced and slapped a hand over his eyes, not wanting to look.

Swallowing the lump of fear in his throat (or perhaps his heart trying for a clever escape route?), his fingers slowly parted and his good eye poked its way out between them to see if... If it was what he thought it was. 

Oh boy. 

Yeah. It was. 

He’d seen this before, but only once. It... hurt to look at. Clinging to the ceiling like some kind of incomprehensible octopus with far too many constantly-shifting limbs was a mass of rapidly cycling textures and patterns, colors blurring in and out of each other- some that he recognized from traveling outside of his cartoons, and others he could not even begin to describe- but ALL of which should not have been able to display themselves at all in this monochrome setting. Between that and the rapidly flashing patterns and shapes, trying to figure out even the silhouette of what he was looking at, or if it was even moving or not, was like trying to make out images in television static. 

And it wasn't just loud visually, oh no- being in the presence of this thing was a bombardment of ALL the senses! That smell of ozone was downright pungent now, that sound he originally thought was rushing water had turned into a roaring electrical hiss, and the air was abuzz with a distinctly uncomfortable energy that made his skin itch. 

...Oh, and he had a pounding headache too, but he wasn't sure if that one was due to witnessing this mess of a thing above him, or the drinks he had earlier. His vision was swimming a bit around the edges too, so really, could be either one.

He stood there transfixed for a good few seconds before a coherent thought finally broke through the cacophony: He had to get the $%@! outta here! 

Which was now kinda difficult, considering he had pressed himself up against the back of the bathroom, and this drippy nightmare being was now situated firmly on the ceiling (and increasingly on the floor with each drip) between him and the only way out, but... Ugh, here goes nothin'. Maybe if he was lucky, he could slip out without being attacked if he moved slowly enough... Maybe if he was REALLY lucky, this was just another bad dream about this thing and before too much longer he’d wake up having rolled face-down onto the floor or something. Still, better to work with what he knew for right now, so… He pressed himself against the wall as flat as he could get, which... wasn't very, thanks to his gut. Frowning, he sucked it in as best he could and held his breath as he began to sidle along the wall. 

…

Okay… 

…

So far, so good... 

He was about halfway there when the visual snow that his brain sometimes created to substitute for the complete lack of vision in his bad eye started... Changing. Forming vague, but noticeable shapes. He closed his remaining eye since the conflicting images were messing with him, and he kept inching along, the feeling of solid wall against his back a cold comfort. Unfortunately, without his normal vision distracting him, he realized something. It was hazy and difficult to make out at first, but... 

It- ... 

It was himself he was looking at. 

From above. In the half of his vision he shouldn't even be seeing out of. 

Startled, his eye shot open and he looked up. There, from the middle of the flashing patterns and colors, his own eye stared right back down at him.

He watched, partially through vision that used to be his, as the black ink and gray paint drained from his fur and clothes, leaving him a stark white on trembling lineart. 

It blinked.

He wanted to scream. In fact, he started to, but he slapped a hand over his mouth, forcing himself to stop. He did his best to collect himself, squeezing his eye shut again to try and fight off the disorientation that came with seeing two different things at once. Holding his head in his hand, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. As he steeled himself, the fear and nausea slowly started to subside, increasingly replaced by another feeling… 

Anger. 

This $&@! thing took his eye, and now it’s mocking him with it!

The ink and paint that had sloughed off of him moments ago popped back up into his shape before diving back into him. He growled, opening his eye to glare up at this %*#@in’ eye thief, and in what was probably one of the most bizarre moments of his life, he pointed and wagged his finger towards his own stolen eye.

"Ohhh, no. Nuh-uh. Nope! Dat's bait," he said, starting to sidle along the wall again. "Whaddya think I'm gonna do, huh? Reach inta all dat mess? And for what, so you can take my hand too? My whole arm? Pssh! I don't think so, pal!" 

The eye followed him as he moved, but aside from continuing to be painful and confusing to look at, the thing on his ceiling did nothing else. Feeling perhaps a bit stupidly emboldened by its lack of action, his scolding turned into taunting as he got closer to the door, escape finally within his reach…

"Yeah, dat's right, buddy... Stay put. And ya know what? You're probably not even real! How about DAT? How do I know ya ain't just some kinda stress nightmare? Or some kinda drunk halluci… uh, lucin… -Or I’m just seein’ things, huh?! Why, I bet ya couldn't even hurt me if ya wanted to. Go on! Try, it'll be funny-!" 

It had been watching him relatively calmly (or so it seemed anyway, it was REALLY hard to get a read on this thing), riiiight up until he said that last word- at which the mass almost seemed to grow... Excited? Agitated? Either way, the thing’s colors shifted more rapidly than before, its patterns now rapidly swapping between X’s and O’s as it burbled and bubbled, the air practically crackling with a strange energy. It then dropped down from the ceiling startlingly fast, taking on a different, less amorphous shape as it rose from the gooey puddle it made. His stolen eye was now positioned on a head-like lump and two arms burst forward, reaching and grasping wildly like it didn’t quite know how to work them yet as the whole thing made a lunge for him.

In a panic, Frank reached into his hammerspace for anything, and-

SLAP!

He’d whacked it with the tuna. 

Bits of color and noise flew from the impact and splattered the bathroom wall, sizzling with static. It seemed he’d actually managed to stun the thing, since it had stopped dead in its tracks, the flailing fish now embedded in its head where the rest of its face should have been- just beneath the eye. The goopy arms lowered a little in apparent confusion, and the eye swiveled unnaturally to look down at the fish. Then, four triangular shapes started forming- two above, and two below- like fangs closing over it. As the struggling fish started to sink away into the newly-formed mouth, the eye swiveled back towards Frank with a renewed intensity, just in time to see a bottlebrushed tail disappearing through the door.

Frank was NOT sticking around to see what happened next. Taking the opportunity for escape, he darted out of the bathroom and fled on all fours from the apartment, his fur standing on end in fright. He didn’t know if it was chasing him, and didn’t even dare a look over his shoulder to see. A blur of ink, he flew down the street fast as a rocket into the dark of the night.

—

Ollie was a morning person.

Maybe not a particularly bouncy and cheerful one like he used to be, but years of sailing had accustomed him to waking up at the crack of dawn. There was just something nice about it. Nowhere he had to be right away, no phones ringing off the hook, no one to entertain… no pressure at all. For a few hours, he could pretend he didn’t have a massive studio empire hanging over him like a sword of Damocles... Just some coffee, a cigarette, and a beautiful sunrise to watch. There was peace in being the only one awake while everyone else around slept.

Couldn’t help but wonder if Frank had similar reasons for being such a night owl… They were both animals that were typically nocturnal, but Frank definitely lived up to it the most. The big guy’d often come plodding into their office sometime around 10 AM, tousled fur and rumpled clothes, yawning and blinking like he’d just surfaced from a coal mine. Then, without fail, he’d make a beeline for the coffee maker and wouldn't say a single non-grumbly word until he’d had a few sips. Sometimes after a big enough yawn, his tongue would still poke out a little between his fangs in a way that was actually kind of endearing… -Just an observation, though.

Some mornings, however, Frank would actually be there first… His continuity being what it was, sometimes it left the guy without a place to stay, so he’d sleep on the old, lumpy couch they had in there. It never seemed to bother Frank all that much, but… then he’d get up and carry himself in a way that indicated a sore back. Maybe it was time to see if a new couch could fit in the budget…? Maybe one that pulled out into a bed… 

Ollie got somewhat lost in his thoughts as he made his way up to their rented office space, the morning newspaper tucked under his arm. He whistled a little tune to himself as he ascended the stairs, but he slowed a bit when he got to their floor and saw the potted plants in the hallway were knocked over on their sides, all pointing the same direction as if they'd been toppled by a strong gust of some kind…

Towards their door.

“Huh,” he said quietly, brow furrowed and mouth drawn in a straight line. “Okay…” He started whistling again, albeit more slowly and quietly, as he stepped over a toppled pot that had rolled over into the middle of the hall. Nudging it back upright with his foot, he continued to the door and pulled out a comically large ring of keys from his pocket. 

“Really oughtta organize these,” he muttered to himself as he went through them one by one. The irony wasn’t lost on him that it’d probably be faster to use a lockpick. Finally he got the door open, but only an inch or so before it was halted by a door chain. Okay yeah, Frank was here already.

“Frank?” He called in, “Hey, it’s me, open the door! And I swear ta god I hope you’re decent.” Instead of being greeted with the usual snore, however, he heard the rattling of window blinds, the sound of grawlix being uttered in a hushed, yet urgent tone, and then a few moments later- a loud crash.

Okay, something was definitely up. Not waiting for Frank to get the door, Ollie threaded his tail through the inch of space and, with a bit of trial and error, managed to unlatch the door chain with it. “Hang on pal, I’m comin’!”

“No, wait-!”

Ollie opened the door to find Frank on the floor in just his boxers and undershirt, leg successfully down one pant leg but the other tangled up. He’d apparently tripped over himself in a hurry to put on some pants. The cat froze, save for an anxiously twitching tail, and stared wide-eyed back at him for a few moments. Then, with a surprising burst of speed for a toon his size, he leapt up onto the couch, landing perfectly in what the author could only describe as the ‘Alone On A Friday Night?’ pose. On his side, propping himself up on one arm, the other on his hip, he grinned with a hint of nervousness despite his attempt to play it casual. 

“Oh heyyy, buddy! Didn't see ya come in!” He said with a small chuckle, now trying to slide his other leg into the pants as discreetly as possible. 

Ollie did feel a little relieved that his partner seemed to be okay, but at the same time… This was weird. Not Frank sleeping in his undies, that was normal- but something else… He sighed and shook his head.

“Coulda told me you were just gettin’ dressed,” Ollie said, looking away to give the guy some privacy. He went over to the desk and had a seat, unfurling the newspaper and busying himself with a quick skim of the headlines.

“Well hey, could be worse,” Frank said, now fully dressed when Ollie lowered the paper to look at him, but still in the same pose. “I used ta only wear a bow.”

“Things were a little different then,” Ollie started, but then he paused in thought, looking vaguely up towards the ceiling. “-Actually, no, pretty much everyone else I knew still wore some kinda clothes…”

Frank sat up, looking absolutely wounded as he held his hands out defensively. “C’mooon, it’s how I was designed! Besides, I came first,” he said, puffing out his chest with a big grin and proudly jabbing his thumb towards it, “so if anyone set the bar for what’s normal for cartoon animals, it’s me!”

Ollie put the newspaper down. “...Frank. Buddy. Ya can't possibly be implyin’ I’m the weird one for wearin’ pants,” he said in a flat tone.

…That got him. Frank couldn't keep a straight face. He managed for maybe a good two seconds before he busted up laughing, which devolved into a smoky wheeze.

Ollie smiled. A genuine smile from him was kind of a rare sight these days, but something about the way this big lug laughed himself silly just tickled him. The morning was almost starting to feel normal again, but… he still wanted to get to the bottom of this.

“No, but seriously, what’re ya even doin’ up this early? Also… didn't ya say ya had somewhere ta stay last night?” He said, hiding his smile and giving Frank a bit of a side-eye. 

“Oh, heh… guess I was wrong! It happens,” Frank replied with a small shrug, looking back towards the window as he slid his hand over the nape of his neck. “...And I couldn't sleep. What else is there ta say?” 

Ollie looked skeptical. “...I’m askin’ because usually when ya drink enough ta smell like you got trampled by a circus fulla pink elephants, it’d take the world endin’ ta wake you up.”

Frank just shrugged again, though he could feel himself starting to sweat. “Oh please, it wasn't dat much…” he muttered, before plastering a smile back on. “Anywho, I’m fine! So I’m up early, big whoop!”

“Ya ain't in any kinda trouble?”

“Nope!”

“Nothin’ that’d, say, cause you ta knock over everything in a mad dash ta get here?”

Frank paused. “...No?”

“...You absolutely certain?”

“Cross my heart!”

They stared each other down, Ollie stone-faced and Frank trying (and failing) to maintain an air of nonchalance. He usually kept his shirt collar pretty open, not liking the feeling of anything around his neck, but a finger slipped under to tug at it a little regardless. 

“...Okay, okay! If ya really wanna know, I had a bad dream. Spooked me real good. Dat’s all,” Frank said, crossing his arms.

Ollie let up a little. If Frank was in some kind of real danger, he wanted to know about it, but if not… It probably wasn't his place to pry. “Okay,” he said simply. “Ya wanna talk about it?”

“Eh, it's nothin’ I can't handle.”

“I wasn't askin’ if you could handle it or not.”

“...It’s nothin’ important.”

“Wasn’t askin’ that either.”

“-Nor urgent.” 

“Do I gotta repeat the question?”

“...” Frank breathed out a heavy sigh and his mouth dropped into a frown, the look in his eye briefly betraying just how tired he really felt. “No, I do not want to talk about it.”

“Alright, then. Offer still stands if ya change your mind.” Ollie’s words were punctuated by a flutter of newspaper as he picked it back up. 

“Mhm.”

Frank fished a cigar out of his shirt pocket, using the end of his tail like a Zippo to light it. Truth be told, a part of him really did wanna talk about it... It wasn’t for some macho meathead reason that he couldn’t, either… He wasn’t afraid to admit he was scared! Certainly not to his best pal. That… wasn’t the problem. 

“Thinkin’ of gettin’ a new couch,” Ollie said, helpfully changing the subject.

“Mm? What’s wrong with dis one?” 

“The fact it makes your spine sound like breakin’ celery… Also I dunno if our clients fully appreciate the big perfectly Frank-shaped indent in the cushion.”

“Pssh… Gives it character!”

“...Ya really don’t have to keep sleepin’ on that old thing, ya know that right? I have a guest room.”

“I know.”

Frank had never told Ollie what happened to his eye. Nor anyone else. Whenever pressed about it, he just simply shrugged and said he ‘lost it’, and that was that. @#$!, he wasn’t entirely sure what happened himself… He had no words for it. It’d happened so quick… All it took was one unlucky night. Stumbling home drunk off his gourd, winding up in the wrong place, at the wrong time… And encountering… that. Now he was left with chronic pain, one less eye, and the distinct feeling he’d seen something he shouldn’t have. 

And he’d do whatever it takes to make sure Ollie never has to see it either.

[utilitycaster]

#fucking lost it at the asterisk#and you know you had to put that there because this is tumblr#also agreed - sometimes I see character hate or campaign hate that is weirdly detached from context or blame misplaced#and oftentimes a use of passive voice#like “BH were overshadowed in their own campaign” as a statement that they were “treated poorly” and it's like. by WHOMST#the events of the campaign were not real events that happened independent of cast input#you could say that the various non-BH interludes did distract from BH... but you also have to accept the interludes were created by the cas#and again that is okay to do. you just have to be okay with disagreeing with something the cast has done#but these views are usually paired with some kind of perceived moral high ground#that benefits from treating the “mold” subject like an independent actor or something reverse-spawned from fandom into the show#anyway at this point I'm just restating your post OP but yeah. mood#critical role @ariadne-mouse for real this is part of what inspired it. Like...I've found a lot of discussion of campaign 3 by its defenders does this and is also like...bizarrely ignorant of how running a D&D game works to the point that I suspect for many of them it's their first exposure to long-running actual play or D&D.

Completely outside of any understanding of D&D/AP, if the cast wanted to wrap up Divergence by the anniversary, that was a choice the cast made about campaign 3. They decided to stop it where it was. They literally did not have to do it; they chose to. They did not have to cut to the Crown Keepers or Vox Machina or the Mighty Nein; that was a thing that at minimum Matt, Aabria, and the players of the Crown Keepers wanted, and something that, when Matt pitched it to the cast, since they had to know about coming in as their past characters, they said "yes" to. You do not have to like these choices; but they were choices that people made. Part of why this avoidance of talking about choices as being made by people is specifically an issue for Critical Role's fandom is that they are self-owned and it's an improvised story; you cannot claim to executive meddling without pointing at literally the DM and two of the players [Travis as CEO and Marisha as creative director]. I think the weird claim this campaign's plot was a dramatic setup to get around Hasbro/WOTC copyrights was a very misguided attempt to point the blame somewhere else, but that was so incoherent it backfired, particularly since it's provably false given the epithets and the fact that anyone who has any understand of copyright law knows that the concept of a nature goddess isn't copyrightable; you just can't call her Melora.

Within the understanding of D&D/AP, just to give an example: the fact that everything with Laudna and Delilah was kind of rapidly wrapped up and not further explored; or the fact that the party didn't go to Hishari or have further interactions with the Nobodies, were not inevitabilities. To quote Liam O'Brien, "no, I want to roleplay Fish and Chips!" is an option! Laudna and Ashton aren't real people but also...none of this is real. The DM controls the sense of urgency; if players feel rushed, then either the DM (Matt) is making them feel rushed and that is either a conscious choice he is making to encourage the focus on the main plot, or an unconscious flaw in DM-ing, or the players are picking up something unintended and haven't communicated that and are skipping things. To be clear, I would not say this is anyone's fault in that I do not assign morality to any of this - but there is responsibility. The DM can, in fact, change the story midway to fit their players' needs and preferences, and indeed, they should (and Matt very much did so in C1 and C2). If you feel that something in Campaign 3 was unexplored and should have been, then it's because of a decision someone in the cast made that they very, very much could have made differently. I don't think it's terribly productive to be angry at the cast or Matt if you are disappointed in this; but I think it is genuinely helpful to say "I don't like the choices Matt (or Marisha, or Taliesin, or whoever) made here."

Forgot to put this on the scrupulosity/fear of liking a character who isn't a good person post yesterday but I think this explains something that's always irritated me - what I like to call the "mold that grew on the campaign" problem. I used that term initially to describe people who hated Essek because they almost always treated Essek as, well, some mold that grew on the campaign and not a character whom Matt created and whom the cast became interested in interacting with extensively to the point that his story became what it did - through constant choices that Matt and the rest of the cast made. Because if you treat Essek not just as a character you dislike - which is valid - but a Bad Person whose story tells you Bad Things and it's Bad to like him - then you would have to consider that the Critical Role cast told a story in which he was redeemed, and if you think that's bad or misleading then you need to consider that they're people who don't agree with you, which means [in this understanding of morality, to be clear, not like, what I think] that either you and they are not morally the same which means one of you is bad which means you liking their work might be bad. So Essek is talked about like mold - not deliberately crafted and introduced to this process* but rather some ambient rot that isn't really anyone's fault. Except perhaps the fans, which would mean that Critical Role is bowing to fan pressure even when those fans have bad opinions, which also says something about them that is perhaps bad.

Obviously this isn't the only case; perhaps the most egregious one was the already infamous "you can't criticize improv" line which implies that none of this has any skill or intent involved, but hopefully this was illustrative. Disliking or liking a choice is valid; but denying the agency - that someone made that choice - never is.

*yes some processes do deliberately introduce mold, you know what I fucking mean. mold on bread rather than mold used to make blue cheese.

[general-gt]

Just in case anyone didn’t catch the memo, any Trump supporters can fuck right off my blog. I am a proud Queer and I do NOT want your disgusting ideology anywhere near me or my work. Fuck off, protect trans people, gay rights and whatever else gets you to leave me the hell alone.

[cookiedough77]

more peacock adrien au... and yeah i couldnt help myself

do i need to add context??? anyway imagine your luka, you find your friend who you havent seen in quite a few weeks in his pjs just sittin, and yall chat and then he admits he's in love with you and then when you reciprocate those feelings he tells you that you cant love him back because he's been using the peacock thats broken and he's dying, but you try to convince him you dont care...

luka has the cat miraculous btw

[logicpng]

so that update huh

[ Description in ALT ]

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

First of all omg thank you for updating today my sign ups at uni took the entire morning and part of the afternoon and I spent it reading the chapter on and off 💜 beautiful timing

Do you happen to have drawn the drip for the clan meeting from any of the other clans? 👁️ 👁️ Or also alternatively do you have a doc or visual aid for the different clans and their representatives? I know it's probably silly buy I love knowing more or less who's who and I'm having trouble keeping track (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

and THE CHAPTER WAS SO GOOD GAGSJSLLAKSJA that bamf zhongli tag is preening rn

i had a color chart somewhere and some doodles so i've cleaned them up and compiled them + added those who were missing

edit: here's a version with the locations of their territory

[chanelle-lize]

I used to have a really hard time bringing up the fact that I graduated from high school a year late without feeling the need to explain why and insisting that it wasn't my fault while simultaneously kicking myself for how much I sounded like I was just making excuses for something I should take responsibility for.

Then I watched Dimension 20's "The Seven" and suddenly I could simply say that I was a super senior.

The first time I heard the phrase "super senior" was in reference to Antiope Jones, a Black girl who had been held back a year after getting kidnapped and imprisoned by members of a fundamentalist cult, and like, girl, same.

So, since then, instead of anxiously spinning out any time I tried to tell a personal high school anecdote, I could just say I was a super senior, and then my brain would auto complete that statement with "like Antiope Jones" and I'd feel good about myself because Antiope Jones Is That Bitch.

That's what the problem had been the whole time. I wasn't worried about how other people would perceive me; I had been struggling with how I perceived myself.

Thanks, Aabria.

[fumifooms]

Hijoushoku to Gochisou / A Feast of Emergency Rations

Mayonaka no Waltz / Midnight Waltz

Nagabe

[lovesodeepandwideandwell]

Watching Severance does feel a bit like reading a fic with 15000 word chapters that are almost entirely world-building and setup and there are only 2/47 chapters published and those came out 3 years apart

[triglycercule]

oh yeah before i forget cute mttpoly headcanon because i said so: when killer finds out (through SOME way of means. he has his ways) that dust and horror like something then at every chance he can he goes and finds that thing for them :3 because I SAID SO AND IT'S CUTE ‼️‼️ (something something killer has no idea how to properly show affection and appreciation after believing his whole life was meant to cause pain and suffering to those close to him and now that he's trying he does silly goofy stuff like this hehe,,,,,,, dust is DROWNING in piles of fluffy blankets and books. horror cannot keep up with eating the amount of snacks killer keeps stealing for him 😞😞😞)