#aside from the. obvious teeth stuff

[ineffableuser]

I’m 100% sure that lots of people have brought this up before, but

I had never thought of how perfectly fitting “Teeth” by 5SOS is with Astarion’s romance

Like wow

[softbabybelle]

corruption 001. 𓍯𓂃 rֶָ֢ cameron

rafe cameron x shy!reader

𝜗𝜚 Summary : rafe finds sarah's best friend sitting in her room after she sneaks out to see her boyfriend, topper, and offers to keep her busy while teaching her something new.

𝜗𝜚 words : 2.5k

𝜗𝜚 c!w : weed, smoking, drvgs, suggestive.

part 2. part 3.

by the time sarah had re-entered her own bedroom, you were laying on your back across her bed, twisting your hair above your face, absentmindedly playing with the strands.

"i have a favour to ask." upon hearing your best friend's voice, you turned so you were laying on your stomach.

you liked having sleepover's with sarah but sometimes, she wasn't all that reliable. "m'kay." though you already had an idea what following words would pass her lips.

"i just got off the phone with topper and he wants me to go meet him." she settled herself against her drawers. "but my dad'll kill me if i stay out past curfew. think you could cover for me?"

you batted your lids at the girl, frowning for various reasons. you'd brought all your stuff so you and sarah could hang out, you were getting a little tired of her using you as an excuse to see her boyfriend and you were downright petrified of ward cameron. there was something awfully frightening about your friends' parents.

but you didn't like to be troublesome. so a small "okay." passed your lips with a thin smile.

it took sarah less than twenty minutes to get ready and before you knew it, you were waving goodbye as she snuck out the window.

she left the tv on so you could watch one of your shows but you were much more inclined to reading the book in your bag. at this point, you'd grown accustomed to sarah leaving you during the middle of your sleepover's, you had to come prepared.

the reason she invited you over and snuck out was because she knew ward wouldn't dare go near her room when she had a friend over. none of her family did.

well, none aside from one.

"sarah!" you heard a familiar voice from behind the door followed by a bang against it that rafe cameron would later excuse as a 'knock'. "listen, i know you took my fuckin' charger, so give it ba―oh."

rafe was sarah's older brother, you'd seen him around plenty of times and he'd surely seen you. at this point, you practically lived in the house. many times you'd sat across from him at the dinner table or sat on the beach chairs with sarah while he was in the pool. though you didn't often speak to him.

perhaps that was your fault more than it was his, though.

"you're here." he stated, glancing around the room for the white charger he was missing.

rafe often initiated conversation with you but it was only in your shy nature to nod after he said something and use less than two words to communicate before scurrying down the hall after sarah.

this time, she wasn't here to be your human shield.

"uhm, yeah." you sort of just squirmed, hoping he didn't ask about why you were in here alone.

but you didn't often get what you hoped for. "where's sarah?" snatching up the charger. upon his question, you blinked at him, a stretch of panic flashed across your face. you didn't even need to say anything, your look gave it all away. "snuck out with topper, huh?"

your top lip snuck your bottom teeth in. "please don't tell." you weren't used to being so confined with rafe. sure, you'd been in a hallway with him before but come to think of it, you weren't sure you'd ever been in a small room like sarah's, alone, with the door shut.

"wasn't going to." he counters. his eyes pass over the room, raking down to you. you were sitting on the bed with a little book in your hands, pink bookmark sticking out from the page you left it on. "you don't need to be sittin' pretty in here all alone, though." he approached the door before turning to face you. "you comin'?"

it was as if he'd expected you to follow. you hastily stood, pink blush across your cheeks. "where are we going?"

he shrugged. "my room." as if it'd been obvious.

a nervous pit swirled in your stomach. you hadn't spent enough alone time with rafe to be invited into his bedroom. sarah was the one out of the two of you who talked to many guys. you kind of just stood idly by, a nervous look on your face as you bit your bottom lip and angled your head to look at the ground. you supposed rafe wasn't so bad, though.

after all, you practically grew up with the boy.

but that didn't make it any easier.

"so, uh, how's school?" he sniffed, inviting you into the room before shutting the door closed.

you'd been around sarah and her friends long enough to know that the smell swirling the room was weed. something you'd never so much as touched. the room also had a smell of some expensive cologne, the same one you often detected from rafe.

"it's okay." you offered, standing idly near his dresser, hands messing with the hem of your shirt. "what about you?"

a soft sort of smirk fell across his face. "i'm not in school anymore." he reminded you before taking a seat on the bed, taking something out from the beside table's drawer.

"i knew that, sorry." you felt your face flush. you hated this, always making yourself look silly when you spoke to rafe. it was why you avoided him in the first place. you wanted nothing more than to run out of the room to where you came from. but sarah was gone, meaning you had nobody to use as an excuse or a getaway.

you'd merely have to endure.

he didn't say anything, only offering a humorous huff from his lips.

"you mind?" your eyes trailed down to what was in his hands, the source of the smell you'd detected earlier. "asked you a question, sweetheart."

"oh, uhm." your eyes snapped up to meet his, head feeling floaty at the name. "i don't mind if you smoke. it's you're room."

again, he offered no response but continued to take out his pieces. he was currently in search of a lighter. "what are you standin' all the way over there for? sit down. i don't bite." but there was a quirk to his lips when he said it that made you think he did bite.

"sorry." you mumbled before shuffling to the bed to sit on the furthest edge you could.

you didn't miss the way rafe rolled his eyes. he looked back at you, studying your features. "split one with me?" he was testing the waters. he knew you enough to gauge assumptions about you. asking him? you didn't drink, didn't smoke, didn't have sex. you were the type of girl who stayed in your friends bedroom reading a book while they snuck out to meet their boyfriend.

he wanted to see if you'd give in.

your eyes were watching his hands, the way he rolled paper between his fingers. "uhm, 've never smoked."

ding ding ding.

he cocked his head. "want to try?" he could see immediate panic flash across your features. in a way, it was exactly what he wanted. he wanted to soothe you into this, not for you to instantly kneel at his every command. he knew you weren't easy. "c'mon, baby, 's just me. promise i won't let anything happen to you."

"i don't know." you shook your head slightly.

you were no stranger to the names he used on you. he often spoke them in a soft yet playful voice, especially around sarah. you just thought he liked seeing his sister get angry, tossing a pillow his way and telling him to stop treating you like one of his 'notches on his belt' but if he was only keen on making sarah angry, then why was he calling you such things while you were alone, sarah nowhere in sight?

"how long have you known me?" since you were very, very young. "one can't hurt. you trust me?" you slowly nodded, eyes still wavering to his hands. "so what'do you say?"

you knew you shouldn't. if your parents ever found out, they'd kill you with their bare hands and rafe would be next in their death note journal.

but there was something about the way he was looking at you that had your stomach folding in two.

besides, you never did like upsetting people.

if you didn't say yes, rafe would think that you didn't like him. he would be upset that you'd be so mean to refuse such a kind offer.

so nonetheless, a small squeak of an "okay." left your lips.

"atta girl. c'mere." he gestured down and you blinked at him confusedly. was he asking you to sit in his lap? you swallowed thickly. "c'mere." he repeated, this time between a soft chuckle. he reached out for you, helping you to sit flush against his lap.

instantly, you swore you had never been so red in your life.

your eyes were all wide and embarrassed, cheeks flaming red hot while you tucked your bottom lip under your top one again. a habit you supposed you'd die with. to say you were shocked to feel his hand against your face was an understatement. his thumb pulled at your lip from between your teeth, securing it away from harm. "don't do that." he mumbled. "you know how to take a pull?"

awkward and embarrassed were two words you swore were forgetting their meaning. this was above and beyond that. "you just... suck, right?" you squirmed in his lap at your own words.

"inhale, sweetheart." he moved the rolled blunt up to your lips. "open." you complied and he stuck it between the two, lifting the lighter to set the top to a low burn. "don't try to keep it in, 'kay?"

you nodded, inhaling the blunt and finding a strange sensation fill your mouth.

you'd never smoked a cigarette before, much less a blunt.

it was a weird feeling but you did what he said, you didn't try to keep it in. you moved the blunt from your lips with your fingers and didn't feel the need to couch heavily. you just blew the smokey air back out.

"good girl." the soft pads of his fingers trailed softly against your bare thighs below your sleep shorts. you felt your stomach do flips at the praise. "did so well. you sure you haven't done this before?"

you nodded with a slight giggle. "'m sure."

you watched as he lifted the blunt to his lips, taking a drag, then another. he didn't seem as phased as he did. "mm, don' know if i believe you on that one, princess."

"i haven't!" your hips gently reached up against his own. "swear." before simmering back down.

he lifted the blunt to your lips. this time, he didn't need to tell you to part your mouth, you just did it. "cross your heart 'n hope to die?"

he was staring at you so intently that you swore you'd never seen anyone's eyes so vividly, never been more interested in the squiggles of blue in someone's iris or the way his pupils slowly began expanding.

all you could offer was a slow nod as he watched you take another inhale of the blunt, eyes suddenly now steady on your lips, watching you stain the end of the paper pink with lipgloss.

a smirk fell on his lips as he leaned back onto the headboard. one minute, you were too shy to leave sarah's room, now you were sitting on his lap, smoking a blunt with him.

rafe merely had a way with women.

"so what, you feel like 'm corrupting you yet?" his steady smirk and sly hand trailing up your thigh.

a giggle passed your lips as you shook your head. "no."

he hummed. "plenty of time for that." you weren't too sure what he'd meant, though you hadn't actually asked him either.

it didn't take long for you to get high. rafe realised this within less than a few minutes. your pupils had turned wide, eyes gone glassy and suddenly you couldn't stop licking your already wet lips. you were staring at him, a little too much, not that he was complaining. he'd spent too long waiting for you to shyly meet his eye. with the weed in your system, you couldn't seem to look away.

"can i ask you something?" his voice was low, hardly a whisper as he spoke now, as if afraid he'd awake something and the room would turn to dust, the moment would fade from his memory and this moment would dissappear.

"uh-huh." you were busy looking at him, downright gawking. your eyes were shamelessly staring right at his lips.

he wasn't as buzzed as you. but to be honest, he'd been doing this a long time before you. "have you ever been kissed?"

it was his turn for his eyes to advert to your lips. all glossy and wet. for the thousandth time, your tongue peaked out, wetting them again before biting your bottom lip.

he couldn't get you to stop biting it, no matter how hard he tried.

he'd merely have to train you, when the time came.

"mm-mm." you shook your head at him. finally, your eyes broke from his lips and looked up at his eyes. he could see now, how truly buzzed you were. your eyes were all red and glassy, it was almost as if he could feel you floating. you tilted your head at him. "are you gonna kiss me?"

his hands ran up and down against your skin. "do you want me to?" a hesitant nod followed his question. "say please." pulling the blunt up to his lips for another drag. it was almost out now.

it was a mindless tease but he felt you squirm in his lap again. "please, rafe." voice but a whiney murmur.

he blew the smoke out from his lips and watched it fall into your own parted mouth.

your eyes fluttered shut and he didn't give you a chance to think, his lips replacing the smoke. his were hungry, your's were soft, inviting. and he took the invite as soon as it'd been handed to him. his hand ran up your back, shoving your body as close to his own as he could. he wanted the heat to envelope him, wanted your skin against his own. wanted so badly to rip off every piece of clothing that tainted you. wanted you to be his for the taking.

but the way you suddenly pulled back, those doey, bloodshot eyes and fearful voice murmuring the words, "you're not gonna tell sarah, are you?" told rafe exactly what he already knew.

he need to be patient with you. take his time unravelling you until there was nothing left.

he shook his head, fingers soft against your face, running across your cheek.

"don't worry, sweetheart, your dirty secret's safe with me."

[tigressaofkanjis]

My biggest pet peeve in Transformers media and fanfiction sometimes is that Transformers aren't treated as aliens. They are referred to as aliens, they obviously are aliens, but they never feel like they are aliens because they are always written or seen as having all human mannerisms or features usually. Human posture, human noses, human mannerisms, humanoids...

What about TFA's cat noses or TFP's helm noses? One of the reasons I think those two shows have peak designs is because they have this lack of uncanniness to humans design wise. I'm not looking at a human being as a robot, I'm looking at an alien robot, ones that have claws, ones that have different body types that blend with their vehicle modes, ones with horrific mutilations and designs impossible by human standards. I love seeing that type of stuff in Transformers because to me, it makes them feel alien without completely changing the premises of similarities to where we can't compare their culture or likeness to humans. The films (mostly 1 and 2) showed off this as well.

Another thing I really would like to see in Transformers media is non-human interactive qualities. What do I mean by that? One thing I've noticed is aside from techno-organic species, regular Cybertronians do have a few qualities found in animals. Engine humming I believe was once used as a form of purring in the films and in some of the cartoons. Humans can't purr; cats can, and that small detail is always interesting to come across because it's like "wow, they have this feature that shows off a trait found in Cybertronians. That is so cool." You have them with multiple voice boxes for mechanical, natural, and human-like tones which is also an animal trait. Bumblebee is self-explanatory in most universes being able to still make sounds yet not talk. They have sensors across their body that don't act like the basic human receptors. Most animals can do more than just feel through certain points of their bodies. They can taste, smell, or even hear a hundred times better than a human being throughout various body parts, and Transformers have been hinted to have this ability too, especially through their servos. It's stuff like this that expands upon their existence as aliens.

They have extreme durability, their body morphs to extremes and can also double as a moving weapon (most obvious of course), some of them can make ungodly roars and creature-like noises to warn or show their threatening demeanor (Megatron's dinosaur-like growling), some can have two rows of teeth (a flat base in front and fangs hidden behind), and some of them have mimicking animal-like features (Starscream's bird-shaped feet with visible expansion the same as organic foot padding with similar distributive weight physics in a few universes) despite having no beast mode. There's probably more I can't think of on the top of my head in canon, but all those things are not heavily used as they should be to make them feel alien. They can still hold some relation to the humans they interact with, but I think a lot of Transformers are more than just metal "humans", you know?

Depending on the universe in fanfiction and who you encounter who writes it or not, you have several things that are always cool to see. They have to sparkbond (merging of hearts) above everything else to create a sparkling's life force with interface as just the extra for physical coding features. I've seen people use the non-canon heat cycles which are, of course, our fandom way of making a type of breeding euphemism akin to an animal's cycle. You have the common phrasing of nuzzling, heightened senses, armor and certain parts of the helm acting like fur or ears where it raises and flattens per their mood, and some Transformers have limb dissonance where if necessary, they can convert between bipedal and quadrupedal stances (best example is Bulkhead and Lugnut from TFA who have long arms but short legs and they have the bulky structure where they could possibly run like an animal briefly and the physics of it would work).

So, you have all these different things a common Cybertron most likely would be able to do or have but a human couldn't, and it's never utilized to their full potential. I would like to see people address the nature of Cybertronians as alien and not be afraid to make them alien. I think that's the biggest flaw in our franchise is that everyone is scared of making the Transformers not the humanoid "norm" and getting ridiculed for it. Like, they're aliens, you can make them act however animal-like or completely batshit insane as you want them. You can give them powers, animal-based senses, and behaviors hidden among a human thought process. And technically, you wouldn't be wrong to what they could be as a living creature in the universe by doing so. They aren't humans; they look humanoid, but they aren't us. Why should they have to be in every regard?

Thank you for reading my TED Talk.

[g1rlken]

Inherently his

Rupert Campbell Black x gem!reader

Summary: domestic fluff #10 prompt list request

Word count: 4.2k+

Warnings: slight implications

Well polished burgundy car roof made a tapping sound against Rupert’s hands as he paced and sighed in the parking lot. Not frantically, not out of nerves, he never had those. Anticipation however was rather irritating. He didn’t realise when he caught that on from his wife, polar opposites. Ever anxious y/n’s unbothered lover. Most stuff rarely phased Rupert.

But when it regarded her, he couldn’t help it. Her wearies became his just the same way her joy lay in his. It was difficult to not adapt to her ways, especially on her big days. She was after a new job position, switching places in workspace and it was a big interview. He drove her to the place all calm and collected, full well confident in her capabilities. But as he awaited her return from the interview he couldn’t help but feel tense for her. She had wanted this for so long, despite the need of its financial aspect she didn’t have to work a day in our out of the house to sustain them in any way. But it wasn’t about that, he was a lover to an extremely passionate and determined woman. She would be crushed for days if it didn’t go her away after the time and energy she spent into this project. Regardless he quickly pushed that thought aside as his belief in her resurfaced more.

The sight of her walking out the building with her blazer and files in her hand and a bit far to make out her facial expression, he stiffened and paced closer himself. Reaching up to him she shrugged, with a heavy sigh as he searched for her eyes to meet his. “Apparently” she took a deep breath and paused for exaggerated effect, “I got it!” She exclaimed pivoting almost instantly and jumped right into his arms which he had opened for consolation either ways.

“Dear god” Rupert let out a deep chuckle as he could feel his heart beating in his ears, the false dread she built up replaced with immense happiness. “I knew it!” Kissing the top of her head he exclaimed, sweeping her off of her feet to spin her around. Deepening the embrace he held her impossibly close before putting her feet back to the ground with her giggles and squeals but didn’t exactly pull away. “My wonder girl didn’t I tell you!”

“Yes!” She giggled, heart warmed by his embrace and enthusiasm, mirroring his ear to ear smile. “I can’t believe it—I made it in the first round!”

“Well I for one most definitely can!” He brought her face closer to his, cupping her cheeks as he placed a passionate kiss on her lips. A hurried, teeth pressed, full of excitement movement of their lips crashing.

The surge of happiness within her was as it is skyrocketing, the kiss only highlighted it. “I couldn’t be more happier” she said breaking the kiss, “and thank you, for all that you put up with in the process I couldn’t have done it without-“

“I am about to kiss you to shut you up” he said placing soft peck on her lips again. “And I won’t hesitate to go further should you say, ‘thank you’ to me again. Ridiculous behaviour!” Rupert scolded her teasingly but he meant it.

It’s not as if Rupert needed a reason to celebrate his wife or celebrate with her. Everyday he got to wake up enlaced in her arms was a celebration, the warmth of her, the joy she radiates, everything pumped life into him. Most days he couldn’t comprehended she was real, someone who steered the storm of him directly out to the shore. He did not think it was possible, he couldn’t imagine being so anchored, so grounded but there she was and all it took her was a smile and his world seemed just fine. He knew he didn’t deserve her but he was so damn glad she was his. As were her dreams and her joys like her wearies.

Amongst obvious other things within their celebration, they ended up at the fancy fine dining. Generally the cooks of Rutshire sufficed for good food more than enough and Rupert’s expertise to romanticise the setting didn’t make their home dining table look any different than a fancy place yet she insisted on not skipping town this town. It wasn’t rare for them but his dates were rather activity oriented and y/n was already spent that day and wanted a slower night.

Time flew by at the dinner like it always did because conversation came so natural with her, at times he felt like he could spend hours just staring at her face, her perfect face with star for eyes and hearts on her lips and the sweetest tongue and the most precious laughter, he could swear her hair had intoxicating wildflowers in them as if he couldn’t waste a blink of a moment he got to stare at her. As the waiter presented the couple with a bill, she reached out for it and at first he assumed she were to slide to him since it was closer to her reach but she didn’t which alarmed him for a moment. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” He said with an unaccounted scoff and stopped her by placing his hand above here.

“Getting the check.” Y/n wanted to be nonchalant about this, not make a fuss of it yet somewhere with herself she knew that he would definitely not let her be sly about this.

“Yes my darling girl, get it here please.” He spoke trying to get the brown bill holders towards himself. Surprised that she gripped it harder he frowned in a confused manner. This was first of its name, extremely uncharacteristic it was an unsaid relationship law between them that he always paid. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What?” Brows furrowed back in reciprocation, a bit taken aback as to how seriously he took this prospect of paying for a restaurant check. When clearly neither of them had any financial bounds, even independently. “I’m paying.”

Rupert just laughed in her face as though she cracked a joke, “very funny” this time he grabbed the check towards himself at once.

“I’m serious!” Exclaiming with a whine as she tried to reach out for it again and he leant backwards shaking his head at her determination to get to it, “I’ve got a promotion today, come on!”

“And? You’re still my wife.” Rupert said with a quick glance at the bill and instantly shutting the book so she couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the figure.

“Yes exactly! I’m your wife I should be allowed to treat you.” She reasoned further prying him to let her see the bill but it was of no use, he’d already hid it behind him and sat tall in her way to reach to it.

“I am treated more than enough. More than you could imagine.” He shrugged as he reached for his wallet, a mere moment away from guarding the bill from her and she was back at it. Yet with another feeble attempt to reach to it.

“You know I can afford it!” It was like a dead end getting the ever headstrong, hellbent on spoiling her, husband of hers to be convinced to let her do something for once.

“It’s not about affording my love, I myself can’t morally and romantically afford you paying.” He exaggerated getting his wallet out and distracted her with a kiss as he placed the money inside the bill, so she truly couldn’t see the amount, no pestering would get him to change his ground.

“You are relentless” she breathed breaking away from the kiss yet remained close to his face.

“And you are mine.” He continued kissing the side of her face then let go off the bill putting it on the fattest side of the table, away from her reach. “Mine to spoil, to love, to irk, to fuck the life out of—“

“I think that’s enough” widening her eyes with the prospect he was reaching towards at the end of his sentence, not that she minded it. He knew that, besides the blush on her face said otherwise too. It was a rather civil and a public setting to be romantically lewd.

“Is it?” A deep chuckle escaped him at her awkward unbidden expression, he loved that.

“Let’s go?”

“—As my sweet girl wishes.”

-

It like any other day of their married bubble, only the first week of y/n’s promotional job and she had come home later in the evening. Obviously Rupert had to pick her up, he noticed this change within her of not being drained and mundanely exhausted from her long work day. She would talk his ear off unlike falling asleep on the way back home out of exhaustion how it occurred in her previous job. Rupert himself could tire out from her enthusiasm at the end of day, he loved this for her. Seeing her prosper and spend her time doing what she loved and coming home to who she loved, it warmed his heart. The hearty soul of her did not need energy for love, it was inherently imbedded within her.

However much he loved for the her to work on her deepest passions timelessly, his own deepest passion was loving her. It would have annoyed him if she had been working late over a job that drained her: that would be twice the disgrace of time he shared with her and he hated having it lessened. As of now, knowing she was off doing what she loved it simply eased his heart he’d never want her to cut down a bit even for him. He could simply find more time. Just how he picked her up from her workspace, it was a forty minute drive from their home, so almost an hour and half round trip for him but that gained forty more minutes with her.

Now, once home as she was having a bath, he came inside with his chair and a book in his hand as casually as strolling into any other room in the house. For a moment she was surprised and alarmed, shifting within the water and the foam surrounding. She had already offered him to join her but he’d refused her since he had already bathed. Was he planning to bath twice in the same evening? She thought to herself awaiting him to remove his clothes and get in but he just settled the chair close to the bathtub and sat on it. He even opened the book and was about to go on with his reading as though he just took a comfortable seat in the living room. “Rupert?” She questioned extremely amused by this antic.

“Yes my love?” He responded without looking at her, crossing one leg above the other, flipping through pages to reach the page he’d last left the book on.

“What are you doing?” A small giggle escaped her tilting her head, he was about to do something thematically romantic at any point she considered but this wasn’t as steamy as he usually was for foreplay.

“I’m reading.” He shrugged, as he raised the book fully to display her the cover. The

two often had silent reading sessions and the book he was currently into was something she had recommended so he would not read it if she wasn’t around. Not that she asked, but he’d rather have her around when he was reading a book she recommended, or some other book, or the newspaper, figuratively just about whatever. He’d always prefer to be around her.

“Whilst I’m trying to have a bath?” Bemused y/n tried piecing if he was actually nonchalant or going somewhere with this, she could generally tell. Currently it was weighting heavy on him being nonchalant yet, this setting was too much for him to not go somewhere.

“And have I blown out the candles? Have I turned the shower on? Have I splashed you with cold water?” Rupert went on with alternatives that would require her confusion “I’m not stoping you from bathing, love.”

“But you said you didn’t want to get in? You already bathed.” Who seriously reads in the goddamn bathroom whilst someone is having a bath. Rupert, apparently. This was a new discovery, at times he would walk in on her showering or bathing and most definitely join in, even if they were talking and she had to pee he’d just carry the conversation through the door, right outside. Not that he didn’t pester to be let inside, it’s just where she deemed 2 minutes of privacy to be necessary.

“I am not bathing. I am reading.” Rupert emphasised again, “I have got my chair see?”

“You can read in the living room, or our bedroom, or the guest room or wait—the library!” She joked leaning against the bathtub wall, finding this situation rather comical but it was a genuine chosen setting for him.

“No I want to read here with you so we get more time together.” He mentioned ever so casually whilst reading and indulging the conversation with her at the same time.

“I’m not going away on war tomorrow, Rupert.” Y/n was surprised to say at least, at times it seemed like Rupert was an amalgamation of all possible love languages: physical touch, words of affirmation, gift giving and quality time too.

“But we will go to bed in a few years so we would be away for six to eight hours—depending on where the night leads us.” He told her with a smirk on his face, implying what they got up to at night and regards with how much time the activity takes up to be up the next day.

“We sleep in the same bed what do you mean away?” This time she laughed, which made his lips curl down to a small smile from the smirk.

“I don’t get to see you until I wake up.” He reasoned and given how sure he was of himself Rupert considered that most definitely valid. By then, since the door was open like it always was, one of his dogs made its way inside as well. Peacefully lounging next to Rupert’s chair as he scratched their fur child’s back. “See, you’re his favourite too!” Time to time, not even one moment went by where Rupert didn’t think out loud about his book or even the most mundane of conversations which peaked their minds.

As he fell silent, focused on a passage y/n finally found the moment to reflect on this scenario “I really can’t believe you actually went on with this.”

“Darling I read all the time.” Rupert told her, breaking his reading link without hesitation.

“No I meant in here, I’m literally naked here.” She mentioned even though the foam covered all of it leaving her out just from the neck and face. It wasn’t left to interpretation that she was naked obviously.

“I have seen you naked more than you have seen yourself naked, come on” shrugging he returned to his finger on the word of his book to continue. The exaggerated implication didn’t seem so exaggerating when he said it like that and she knew better than to challenge him.

“Wow” was all she could mutter with a small laugh, “you know most people don’t bath with an audience.”

“One, you’re not most people and two, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Their black mutt walked inside as well, buzzed with enthusiasm when it saw the full bath tub. Pacing up to jump right in with y/n, Rupert brew this habit of bathing with his dogs and as much as she loved them, she couldn’t bath in a lavender soap foam pool and tangerine candle hue with their dogs.

“And that’s my cue” she sighed, reaching up for the towel and quickly wrapping herself in it as she got out. The dog moved frantically in the bathtub with more room available now, causing Rupert to laugh and he stood up following her outside. Resettling on the arm chair in the bedroom as she got dressed, “it really concerns me to think what would happen to you if I had to go away for work or a girlfriends retreat for a week or two.”

“Your ladies trip generally runs short for upto 2 days and 4, maximum. As of work I’d just come with you” he proposed a solution at the top of his head.

“What if you couldn’t?” Amusing, y/n put on her bottoms. Now he’d completely set his book aside given he couldn’t miss a chance to see her getting dressed which made her laugh a bit to herself.

“What could I possibly have to do?” Rupert shrugged, lounging back on the chair. He had his work too but he didn’t even consider to consider it on the same level of importance.

“You’re a minister!” Exclaiming she reminded him, he spoked it a casually as if a real world did not exist outside of her. If he were to answer to that he’d let her know he was aware of a world outside of her but the real world lied within her so it didn’t matter anyways. “House of commons were in a crumbling mess whilst I would be away for work, what then?”

“Everything is a crumbling mess when you’re away darling.” Shifting in his chair he let out a sigh, “Besides if Tony Baddingham can use three different choppers in the same day to commute from the same office, I can most definitely fly out in one to see my wife.”

“What if I end up in an instant tragic situation and pass away?” She was layering herself, pulling a sweater over her head blocked her view of his face, which was an an immediately colour drained and changed one as she pulled it down. They were being light hearted, funny, what set him off all of a sudden?

“If you didn’t want me to read whilst you were bathing you could have simply asked me and I would have left granting you your privacy.” His playful demeanour shifted to a rather stoic one in an accusatory tone.

“What-?” It left her confused since she didn’t even comment on that subject nor did she drop any passive taunts that it bothered her, “what are you saying of course I wasn’t uncomfortable—it was just funny, sweet even I didn’t say it bothered me not at all.”

“Then why say such morbid things?” He scoffed, the unsettling feeling in him could not be contained whilst being seated so he stood up.

“It was just a silly question but it’s not inevitable-“ trying to reconstruct the meaning of her question he interrupted her.

“This is ghastly behaviour y/n, why would you say such things” letting out a heavy breath he paced small steps back and forth as he spoke.

“Such things? Are you serious? Life is just unpredictable it’s not like I said something wrong about you!” The exaggerated adjectives he used really ticked her off for some reason.

“It is plenty wrong talking about exiting our life like that!” He retaliated with words but kept his volume level headed like a normal conversation because despite his anger she deserved a decent tone from him at all times. valid anger and ill behaviour were mutually exclusive, one didn’t account for other obviously.

It left her taken aback and somewhat finding this conversation ridiculous, “it’s just logical thinking. Why do you think people have life insurances—both of us have one.”

“It’s a practicality. It’s a requirement.” He emphasised growing agitated that he wasn’t getting his extremely simple point across.

“Exactly it’s practical-! Neither of us will live forever.” She pointed out to the space between them, unsure of what exactly was making him have such a dramatised point of view.

“You don’t have to talk like that when I asked you once not to, I don’t enjoy that.” He sighed, tone dejected as sulk overpowered.

“You want me to apologise for saying I may die one day?” She asked sarcastically it wasn’t as serious nor difficult to her as it was to him.

Her repeated if again truly punctured his resolve for proper-ness. “Yes.” He paused, he generally never demanded apologies especially not from her.

“I am not saying sorry for a joke” she scoffed shaking her head, he was absurd to think that wasn’t a rhetorical question.

“—I think you should.”

“Well I won’t.” Remaining firm to her point y/m didn’t waver. But with a tensed jaw he did. Grabbing the pillow set from his side of the bed was enough for her to piece his move “you have got to be kidding me.” Generally when the fought, she would be the one sending him off to sleep in the guest room, he eventually would make his way back or vice versa because they did not believe in letting the other one go to sleep upset, yet this was a first. He couldn’t possibly outmatch her pettiness.

Rupert didn’t say anything as he made his way past her, the pillow tucked under his arm as he reached for his book. “You can keep your apology.” He huffed and left with his last word.

Leaving her to their bedroom, she pondered confused for a while that she truly did not say anything offensive and of the apologising, which clearly wouldn’t make her a smaller person but it was about principles. Was he even that upset? Why was he even that upset?

Rupert could be upset but he most definitely could not be upset and far from her for longer bounds of time, he softly knocked on their open bedroom door and leaned against the doorframe. Averting her attention to the door, she was doing her routinely journaling and today was rather eventful. “Back in 45 minutes?” She couldn’t help but smirk slightly at that, “you broke your last record I’m truly proud of you!”

With a deep exhale he leant off the doorframe and walked over to her stopping the stopwatch she’d set on their alarm clock. It was this stupid inside joke, he would always come back from the guest room or the other way around and she would time how much minutes to break their resolve. It was bittersweet in a way that despite the fight and faults he never made her upset to the extent of not awaiting him. “Last was 40 minutes was it?”

“41.” She corrected wanting to see him lighten up, the inescapable small smile on his face really helped. “Sit” she pulled him down to sit close to her, cross legged on the bed. His hands in hers as she spoke “what’s really got you so upset huh? It can’t be what I said, is it because I was working late?”

“No no it’s not you working late. On the contrary I am very happy about that, you’re pursuing your dream, I couldn’t be happier. But it is what you said…” he trailed off with a sigh tightening his grip back on her hands. “I have lived most of my life with my heart on my sleeve, until you I’ve never come across a love I was affected deeply by if I were to lose. I have lost, people have left and quite frankly I wasn’t affected to the one tenth fraction of them leaving than how the thought of losing you in any way affects me. I feel every minute of every hour you are not here, the mere thought is extremely disheartening and unpleasant. Is it possessive? Obsessive? Absolutely fucking mental? I couldn’t care less. I love my wife and I want her around forever. Y/n I put my heart off my sleeve into your hands and that’s the only place I want it to be.”

It left her speechless that he was in such turmoil, she felt so bad for being so insensitive towards him earlier she even refused to apologise, “Rupert” she said meekly, unable to hold his gaze she kissed him and shut her eyes. Deepened and passion filled kiss, with his arms enlacing her waist he brought her to his lap. “I am so so sorry, I feel like a jerk. I had no idea you had such overwhelming dread of losing me I am truly very sorry I joked like that-“

“You couldn’t have known unless I tell you, it’s not your fault.” Rupert reassured her instantly holding her closer to himself.

“I should have known. I can’t be this careless when I am holding your heart in my hands.” She spoke cupping his face to bring it closer to place a soft peck on. “Now that I know better I wouldn’t be so difficult with jokes, you are not losing me in any sense, in any way, ever. Life may be unpredictable but we will be inherently together to witness it I promise you.”

“My darling girl” he intertwined his fingers through her hair as he kissed her again and the bliss of beautifully heavy feelings and a perfect promise rounded them.

—

Brothers and kings, it is 5:48 am I just wrote this…staying up…I can hear the milk man and our neighbours waking up…I have no g1rl left in me you can call me dude

Also please I’ve made this with a lot of will and CRAZY efforts please please please leave a comment I would love to wake up to pls pls pls if you hate this piece I will kms

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

TWST Cast Mid-Effort Snacks They Make

Listen I'm no wizard in the kitchen but I think I can make some half decent snacks. That being said, this post is long, does not have accurate measurements for half of it, bc why the hell would I actually write stuff down I Totally Don't Forget Things All The Time.

Also like. mid-effort snacks. You know, you're not just Opening a bag of chips but you are going to need. At least a microwave. (also, using minimal dishes possible nobody wants to clean up). This is all stuff I've made or at least eaten, myself, lmk if you try it or if I missed a vital detail LMAO

ANYWAYS if this post is popular enough I'll share some like. Actual recipes as well, the Culinary Crucible thingy finally came in and I feel INSPIRED, some of these have little uhh like 'justification' or story behind them some don't bc I feel like it's obvious. GTAT refers to the section at the end, I got tired of writing it out over and over again sldkjhklsjdf ---------------------------------------------------

Heartslaybul

Riddle - (Dark) Chocolate Strawberry Bark

Materials and Ingredients: - Parchment paper - Cutting board/cookie tray - Microwave-safe bowl - Knife - Strawberries (it's okay if they're overripe, as long as you can still cut them safely) - (Dark) Chocolate chips or Nutella, your choice - Peanut butter - Sweetened condensed milk (scm) - Plastic container - Freezer

Instructions:

Cut your parchment paper to about the size of a cookie sheet, but really it depends on how many strawberries you're using (I do not remember how many I used, I think it was like 8, you do not need many, especially if you cut them really thin) and put on top of cutting board/cookie sheet. A flexible cutting board is best, but it's whatever fits in your freezer.

Destem your strawberries and slice them thinly while they're standing upright. Like the part you destemmed is against the parchment paper. (or cutting board but y'know. Why Dirty It). Place them laying down on the parchment paper as close to each other as possible. I found like. Fitting the triangle shapes together like teeth was the easiest way but something else might work better for you. Dice one or two strawberries and set aside.

In a bowl, measure out about a cup of chocolate. If it seems like too much, you can just. eat it ig or dip leftover strawberries into it like I did. If it's not enough, babe just add more it's okay lmao. If you're using chocolate chips, add some sort of fat before you microwave (any oil, lard/Crisco, butter, margarine, etc.) in fifteen second intervals. (if you don't have a microwave, there are instructions under 'General tips and tricks' to hopefully help!). If you're using Nutella, just pop that bad boy in there for fifteen second intervals. In both cases, mix in between intervals until it's kind of runny.

Pour chocolate evenly over the strawberries, at least enough to cover them completely from the top/fill any gaps that are present. Wash the bowl, and repeat the process with peanut butter.

This is optional I really like chocolate and think it's more aesthetically pleasing than peanut butter, but peanut butter doesn't harden as well as chocolate does to bind the strawberry layer together so I couldn't put it first. I did another layer of chocolate on top, but it was thinner than the original one.

Sprinkle diced strawberries on top, and drizzle SCM to your hearts content. (Any leftover SCM needs to be put into a separate container and can stay in your fridge for up to 3 weeks).

Freeze it. It's just faster this way and helps the peanut butter out. I left mine in there for a day, but I think it's okay after like an hour, idk, you decide.

Snap/cut your bark into smaller pieces, use the parchment paper to help line whatever container you're going to use and store your treat in there. I enjoyed these treats best frozen or on top of vanilla ice cream, but they do need to be kept at least refrigerated. Fair warning, if you're a slow eater, these will get messy if you wait too long slkdjfhlkjsdfsdf recommend you eat with a fork.

THE REST ARE UNDER THE CUT WOOT WOOT (Riddle's is easily one of the higher effort ones, so do not be dismayed! There are some on this list with only 2 ingredients, I just talk a lot LMAO)

Trey - Tanghulu No baking required, still satisfies his sweet tooth.

Materials and Ingredients: - Stove (someone said you can use a microwave, IIIIII don't Like That for this, but I'm sure you can) - Fruit (doesn't really matter what kind. I used kiwis, strawberries, and grapefruit.) - White sugar - Water - Bowl of ice water - Fork (skewers are better but I didn't have any, and toothpicks...don't fw toothpicks for this okay??) - Parchment paper\Plate (you just need to make sure it's hardened BEFORE you put the fruit on it kdfjhsfjkd)

Instructions:

Ensure your fruit is washed/dried, peeled or otherwise "ready to eat" before starting

Use a 2:1 sugar to water ratio and put it in a pot. (So 2 cups of sugar to 1 cup of water, or a more likely amount you'll actually use up is 1 cup of sugar to 1/2 cup of water)

Heat on medium and watch closely, it's not suggested you mix it, I did, just by swirling the pot to make sure all the sugar was in the water, but then I left it alone. You'll see it starting to change colour to yellow-y rather than clear. Use a spoon/fork to dip into the sugar mixture and then immediately into the bowl of ice water. If it appears stringy or is still soft and sticky to touch, it's not ready yet. Keep boiling until your test drop solidifies on contact/within seconds of being in the ice water.

Turn the heat down slightly and use your fork or skewer to poke your fruit, and dip carefully into sugar mixture. Immediately, (but carefully) place your sugar covered fruit into the ice bowl. Once you take it out, it should only take a moment to harden before you place it on a plate/parchment paper.

Intended to be eaten immediately, does not store very well. Check 'general tips and tricks' for how to clean the pot/fork

Cater - Spicy Garlic Cheese Bread

Materials and Ingredients: - French Bread (works the best, but you can use whatever bread you have on hand) or premade garlic bread - Butter/Margarine - Salad herbs (like the premade mix or whatever, other seasonings optional) - (Shredded) Cheese - Jalapenos - Other toppings + hot sauce (optional) - Bowl - Spoon - Microwave - Oven

Instructions:

If using premade garlic bread, skip to step 3. Otherwise, get your bowl and chunk of butter (if using french bread, I would say about a half cup) and pop it in the microwave just long enough to get it soft, but not melted. Measure salad herbs with your heart and mix with a spoon.

Cut your bread in half and slather that son of a bitch in butter, having worked in a bakery I know that premade garlic bread literally gets a Handful of "butter" (it's margarine) that just gets. Slathered onto half of a day-old French bread loaf. (Safeway. Looking at you.) If you want to try putting on some BBQ sauce or tomato sauce now would be your time to add it. If you are adding sauce, a little less butter is recommended otherwise it will get Soggy

Put on as much cheese as you want. Whatever cheese you want. I'm not the boss of you.

Throw on jalapenos and any other toppings you want. (red onions, bell peppers, make it a meal with some chicken or something idk)

Broil on high until It Looks Right, as in the cheese is melted and golden brown in some areas (assuming it's marble cheese), or wrap in aluminum foil (risky with The Cheese) and bake at 350 F for like 10 minutes (I still recommend baking over broiling but it's your choice bestie)

Drizzle with hot sauce if you want/any other condiments.

French bread is pretty big, so cut into smaller pieces and share with friends/family/your neighbour/ whatever or full send it or you can try to store it, I think once it's cooled, a plastic bag would be the best bet for storage, and only for a day or two before your bread gets Sad.

Deuce - Ants on a Log He used to love it when his mom would send him to school with these.

Materials and Ingredients: - Cutting board (unless you would like to be a heathen like me) - Knife - Celery - Peanut butter - Raisins/Chocolate chips/Cereal/whatever you want

Instructions:

Decide if you even want to bother cutting your celery, you can leave it whole if you really want.

If you want to cut your celery, cut it according to taste or break that motherfucker with your bare hands just to hear it snap and get that little bit of Emotion and satisfaction out of it. Not recommended if you want bite sized pieces. Generally only cut in a way that keeps the 'sides' of the celery in tact, like you should have a little 'dip' to put peanut butter in, but its ok if its not comfortable to eat it that way and you need to cut it vertically as well, nbd, BUT DON'T CUT IT THAT WAY YET it's so much harder to get the peanut butter on.

Use a butter knife to add peanut butter to your celery. It should fill the little valley in between the sides of the stalk. **Now would be the time to cut again if you want Planks if you know what I mean

Add your toppings, be it raisins, chocolate chips, etc. along the peanut butter to represent the ants slkdjhflksjdf

Ace - Oreo Mug Cake His brother showed him once and he didn't stop since.

Materials and Ingredients: - Oreos - Milk - Fork - Microwave safe mug - Microwave - Whipped Cream (optional)

Instructions:

Get your mug.

Throw 4-6 Oreos in. (4 for an 8 ounce mug, more for a bigger one) and soak in 1 less tablespoon of milk than the amount of cookies you put in. (so 3 tbs for an 8 ounce mug)

The longer you soak them, the easier it is to crush them and break them up, it should become kind of cakey texture already

Pop that bad boy in the microwave for a minute, and in 20 second intervals after that as necessary. Its not like it matters if it's 'raw' though.

Let it cool until you can handle the mug comfortably, add whipped cream or other toppings and enjoy!

Savanaclaw

Leona - Bacon Wrapped Sausages

Materials and Ingredients: - Baking dish (should have some depth to it) - Parchment paper - Cocktail sausages - Bacon - Scissors/Knife - Toothpicks - Brown sugar (optional) - Oven

Instructions:

Cut your bacon in half

Preheat your oven to 350 F. Roll up cocktail sausage in half a rasher of bacon and secure in place with a toothpick.

Place parchment paper in/on baking dish and place the rolls inside

Once you've prepared as many as you'd like, you can sprinkle brown sugar on top.

Bake for about an hour

Ruggie - Elote Loco (Mexican street corn/ 'crazy corn')

Materials and Ingredients: - Canned corn - Mayo - Lemon/Lime - Salt - Pepper - Cayenne - Bowl

Instructions:

Drain your corn can, then add corn to your bowl

Literally. Add everything else according to taste. Heat if you want to, or put in the fridge to eat cold. (I like it cold).

Jack - Fruit Leather (this is a higher-effort, more time-consuming recipe)

Materials and Ingredients - Cutting board (not optional this time :/) - Knife/Corer (if applicable) - Stove - Large saucepan - Water - Blender/Potato Masher - Lemon/Sugar/Cinnamon/Nutmeg, Etc. (optional, but recommended) - Parchment paper - Baking tray - Oven - Pizza cutter (makes things easier, not necessary)

Instructions:

Prepare your fruit. (Wash, peel, destem, core them, remove pits, etc.)

Chop into chunks, and simmer in 1/2 cup of water for every 4 cups of fruit while covered for 10-20 minutes, or until fruit is cooked. You can mash by hand or just go ahead and transfer everything to a blender, but you will have to transfer back into the pot after.

Taste, and add sugar/lemon/spices according to your preference.

Simmer and stir until everything is mixed in completely and the puree has thickened. (5-10 minutes)

Preheat oven to 140 F (check GTAT at the end for troubleshooting). Puree thoroughly in a blender/food processor.

Line baking tray and pour puree evenly onto it, it should be about 1/4 inch thick. Bake for 8-12 hours.

Use pizza cutter to cut into smaller pieces. You can cut the parchment paper underneath and roll the pieces accordingly to store.

This is a more labour intensive snack, BUT it keeps for sooo long. It can keep at room temp in ziploc bag for a month. In the fridge for 6 months. In the freezer for a year. Also a really good way to use overripe fruit.

Octavinelle

Azul - Funnel Cakes >:D (I had to look up a recipe to base the measurements off of, I did not memorize this, but I changed a few things when I Actually Made them)

Materials and Ingredients: - Stove - Large pan - Oil (Vegetable oil, but I think coconut or sunflower oil should work too if you have certain restrictions) - 1/4 cup Milk - 1 Egg - 1 tbsp Water - Splash of Vanilla extract (splash is generally between a 1/4 tsp and 1 tsp To Me) - White sugar (to taste) - 3/4 tsp Baking powder - Pinch of Salt - 1/2 cup Flour - Powdered sugar (to taste) - Cinnamon (to taste) - Plate - Paper towel - Large measuring cup - Fork or tongs - Other toppings (optional)

Instructions:

Throw all the Wet ingredients into the large measuring cup and whisk

Add sugar, cinnamon, salt, and baking powder, whisk until combined

Add oil to pan and start heating on medium, it should be about an inch deep to deep fry. Add flour to measuring cup and whisk until smooth.

(Refer to GTAT at the end to know when oil is hot enough). Use the measuring cup to drizzle the batter in a line around the pan and overlap as desired. Honestly, the thicker the lines the better imo. Cook for 2 minutes until golden brown, then flip and repeat.

Once cooked, move carefully to plate with paper towel to soak up the oil, and add powdered sugar on top. Add other toppings as desired.

Jade - Roasted Chickpeas Easy protein to bring on a hike

Materials and Ingredients: - Can of chickpeas - Baking tray - Parchment paper - Olive oil - Seasoning as you wish (Personal recommendation: garlic powder, salt, paprika, pepper and a little cayenne) - Oven

Instructions:

Line a baking tray with parchment paper and preheat your oven to 400 F.

Drain your can of chickpeas, rinse, then drain again. Try and dry them out a bit before you season them, either leaving them in a colinder or letting them sit out on paper towels or a cloth...or on the tray if you've got time to kill. **If you don't like the feeling of oil on your hands, you might have an extra dish to wash but thats okay. Add your chickpeas to a glass bowl before the next step.

Transfer chickpeas to the tray (if you're not using the bowl) and coat with a generous amount of oil. Add seasonings as you wish, then mix with your hands (or a spoon if you're using the bowl, then transfer to the tray.)

Bake for 20-30 minutes, shaking the pan gently about every 10 minutes to help rotate the chickpeas. Once they're golden brown and crunchy, they're done.

Best eaten straight away, but you can keep them in container for a few days.

Floyd - Trail Mix (AKA the ADHD snack Ever imo)

Materials and Ingredients - Anything you got in your pantry that already kinda qualifies as a snack food - Something to put it in (bag or bowl/container with a lid is preferable) - My favourite mix to make is granola, cranberries, raisins, and chocolate chips

Instructions

Grab your materials

If you're using something that should probably cut up, (like fruit by the foot or something idk) just rip it and throw it in the Container.

Mix everything in a bowl or bag. Use more of your Favourite Ingredient than everything else, then close your storage thing.

Shake that motherfucker

Put everything back (or do this As You Add it so you're left with nothing to clean up at the end)

Scarabia

Kalim - The Forbidden (I made this when I was like 6 for a week straight after school, I DO NOT recommend) He came up with this as a midnight snack and didn't want to bother Jamil.

Materials and Ingredients - Microwave - Microwave safe bowl - Chocolate chips - Mini marshmallows - Fork - A very high tolerance for Texture and Sweetness

Instructions:

Put chocolate chips and marshmallows in the bowl

Microwave for 15 second intervals, mixing with your fork in between.

When it becomes a sticky amalgamation from hell and looks like a dung beetle would be proud of it, it's done.

Jamil - Fattoush He saves the leftovers of the dishes he makes for Kalim throughout the day in order to make some version of Fattoush

Materials and Ingredients: - Cutting board - Knife + Pizza cutter (not necessary, but fun) - Lettuce - Tomato - Cucumber - Radishes - Pita bread - Pan - Stove - Olive oil - Salt + pepper - Bowl x 2 - Glass measuring cup - Lemon juice - Garlic powder, dried mint, and sumac (you don't have to use these) - (I like adding Granny smith apples and goat or feta cheese, but it's not traditional)

Instructions:

Cut up your veggies like you would for any salad and throw em in a bowl

Use the pizza cutter to slice pita bread into smaller, bite sized pieces.

Fry the pieces with a little bit of olive oil, salt and pepper, then set aside in a different bowl so they stay Crunchy

In the glass measuring cup use about 2 tbsp of lemon juice, add some garlic powder, dried mint, salt, pepper, sumac, and whisk.

Slowly stream in about 3 tbsp of olive oil and whisk continuously until it combines. (this might take a while to emulsify, yes you can use a hand mixer on low if you want)

Drizzle dressing over your salad portion, and add pita chips as you wish

Pomefiore

Vil - Parfait He let the French man into his life, also this is bougie parfait, you don't have to follow this exactly lmao, this is just how I used to make it for my mom

Materials and Ingredients - Cutting board + knife - Grapes, red and green if possible - Granola - Blueberries (they can be frozen) - Cherries, cored/halved except one (can also be frozen) - Yogurt (I prefer vanilla for this stuff, Vil probably uses plain Greek yogurt and some honey for sweetness) - A wine glass, otherwise just a clear glass makes it look best, but it doesnt really matter - Spoon

Instructions:

Dice those grapes as small or large as you like, mine are generally the size of like. The eraser end of a pencil. Set aside.

Get your glass and gently spoon yogurt into the bottom, up by about 2 inches. If you have the patience, gently arrange the blueberries into a 1 berry layer. If not, just grab less than a handful of blueberries and put them on top of the yogurt.

Add another inch of yogurt to completely cover the berry layer, and add a thin layer of granola. Cover completely with yogurt again, using another inch-2 inches to do so

Again, if you have the patience, you can arrange your cherry halves into a nice circle to completely cover the yogurt layer. If not, do the same thing as the blueberries.

Cover with another inch-two inches of yogurt. Add a thicker band of granola this time, and top with yogurt once more, to nearly the top of the glass.

Add your whole cherry to the middle of the parfait, and add the mix of diced grapes around it. ** if you used frozen fruit, let it thaw for a couple minutes so you can see the colour bleed into the yogurt a bit bc it looks cool. I'm the boss of you for this one rule because I'm right about it sdlkjfhsldjkf

Rook - Maakouda A guilty pleasure of his. He remembers them fondly from home. Works best with leftover mashed potatoes.

Materials and Ingredients: - Mashed potatoes (if you don't have left overs, just boil chunked potatoes in lightly salted water. Once they're soft, drain them, use a handmixer to mix, add some butter/whipping cream, season as you wish (garlic powder, salad herbs, salt, pepper), add shredded cheese if you want idc. Once everything is mixed you got yourself. Mashies.) - Egg - Garlic, Parsley, Cumin, Tumeric, Salt, Pepper - Flour in a bowl - Oil - Pan - Stove** - you can use an air-fryer for this if you want - Slotted spoon/tongs/fork - Plate w/ paper towel

Instructions:

For every 2 cups of mashed potatoes, you will add one egg, but don't do it yet. Add seasoning to your mashed potatoes first so you can taste and adjust the flavour as necessary, THEN add your egg(s).

Start heating oil, (about 2 inches) in a pan at medium heat. While you wait for it to get to temperature, (Look at GTAT to know when the oil is hot enough) roll your potato mixture into small balls and roll in flour

Fry until golden. Remove from oil using your utensil of choice and let it drain on the paper towel

Repeat until all the "batter" is used up

Epel - Dulce de Leche + Apple Slices Ruggie showed it to him

Materials and Ingredients - Sweetened Condensed Milk (if you don't just have dulce de leche on hand) - Apples (Granny Smith recommended) - Two glass baking pans, one larger than the other - Water - Oven

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 425 F

Pour SCM into smaller glass pan, cover with foil

Place smaller glass pan into larger glass pan. Fill the larger glass pan with as much water as necessary to cover the level of SCM in the smaller pan

Throw it in the oven for like 2 hours and monitor periodically to refill with water if necessary. Keep cooking until it's the colour golden brown you want

Once it's to colour, remove from oven carefully, remove foil, and remove from larger glass pan carefully.

Once cool enough, store in glass jar if possible, or wait longer and store it in a plastic container.

Cut up apple and whatever is left in the pan, scrape it out with the apple and eat it lmaooo unless you have a silicone spatula ain't no way you getting all that caramel out of the pan. Serve yourself more as necessary lmao

Ignihyde

Idia - Worms and Dirt Baybeeeeeeee The far less healthy version of a parfait

Materials and Ingredients: - Crushed Oreos (Oreos + double bagged ziploc bags and you Gamer Rage sldfhlskdjfhlsj) - Whipped Cream - (If making from scratch, you'll need whipping cream, vanilla, and powdered sugar + hand mixer. Just throw ingredients in to taste and mix) - Chocolate pudding - Gummy worms - Rolling pin (optional) - Mixing bowl (glass or metal preferable) - Spatula - (Clear) Glass

Instructions:

Crush the Oreo's by any means necessary. Obliterate them.

Pack the Oreo remains into the bottom of your cup

Mix your whipped cream with the chocolate pudding using the spatula to fold it into each other until it Tastes Right. That is subjective, so if you Like it and it's Brown you Did It.

Spoon/plap how much of your chocolate mousse you'd like into your cup. Throw in a couple gummy worms, add more oreo corpse if you want then fill to the top with chocolate mousse.

Top with more oreo ashes and more gummy worms

Leftover mousse is pretty versatile if you have it with fruit or make more worms and dirt, but it only keeps for a day or two in the fridge

Ortho - :(

Diasomnia

Malleus - "Snow Cone"

Materials and Ingredients: - Rage - Double or triple ziploc bags - Ice - Hot water - Grenadine, Maple syrup, Lime and salt, something else (Choose ONE per serving or embrace Lilia's energy and regret it) - A bowl + spoon

Instructions:

Double/triple bag ice

Run bags under hot water for a few minutes to help melt the ice a little bit (assuming you don't have already very small pieces of ice)

Crush the ice via brute force (its a good work out) OR I GUESS you could use a BLENDER but where's the fun in that

Get rid of any extra water and serve very finely crushed ice in a bowl

Top with your desired flavouring to taste

Lilia -

REDACTED

Silver - Refried Beans Another Ruggie special lmao I love him so much

Materials and Ingredients: - Canned black beans - Salsa (optional) - Chicken bouillon - Oil - Pan/Stove - Wooden spoon/potato masher - Chips or some sort of bread

Instructions:

Drain a little more than half of the Bean Juice

Over medium heat, add a little bit of oil to the pan, (enough to cover the bottom), and add the Beans

As it heats up and the remaining Bean Juice starts to bubble, add chicken bouillon and salsa to taste.

Mash the beans while they cook to mix in flavouring and to get beans to the right consistency. They'll be done when there's no liquid left sloshing around, but you can decide how Dry you want your beans

Add beans on top of tortilla chips, sprinkle cheese on top and call it done, throw some in a burrito or on top of salad, lightly toast some bread, put some mayo on it and add the beans, do what you want <3

Sebek - Salmon Croquettes

Materials and Ingredients: - Canned salmon - Diced bell peppers (choose your favourite colours)**go to GTAT for other substitutions and notes - Diced red onion - Egg (if you don't have any just add more mayo) - Worcestershire sauce - Mayo - Garlic powder, salt, pepper, paprika, other seasonings (your choice) -Bowl - Flour - Panko (optional, or substitute bread crumbs) - Oil - Stove/Pan - Tongs (you can try to use a fork but it won't always work lol) - Plate w/paper towel

Instructions:

Prepare your veggies, and drain salmon

Mix in with canned salmon, and add mayo, Worcestershire, and seasonings to taste. Add just a tiny bit more than you think you should in regards to spices because when you throw the flour in, it'll 'dilute' the flavour a bit

Lightly beat 1 egg for every 5 ounces of salmon (should be on the can) and add to mixture, using hands or wooden spoon to mix.

Add just enough flour and breadcrumbs to the mixture that it doesn't stick to your hands.

Set up your pan with oil, (just enough to cover the bottom), over medium heat and make little 'patties' out of your mix.

Fry your patties until golden brown (2-3 minutes) on both sides.

Remove from heat and place on plate to drain.

Staff

Crowley - Fuckit Fudge (AKA Rocky Road Fudge)

Materials and Ingredients: - Parchment paper - Cake pan - 2 cups Chocolate chips - SCM (14 oz = 1 3/4 cups, should be on the can) - 1/4 cup Butter - Vanilla - Marshmallows - Almonds - Anything else you want (just be aware you'll have to add more chocolate and you'll likely have to cut down on the other fillings as well) - Glass bowl - Spatula - Microwave/Double boiler (GTAT tells you how to make one) - Patience

Instructions:

Melt chocolate chips, SCM, and butter (about 90 seconds in the microwave)

While it's melting, set up your cake pan with parchment paper

Add a splash of vanilla extract and mix with spatula until smooth

Stir add-ins into mixture, and pour into cake pan carefully

Make sure mixture is spread evenly, and refrigerate until it solidifies (depends on how deep you made the fudge)

Cut into chunks and serve. Stores well in an airtight container in the fridge for up to 2 weeks.

Trein - Raspberry Cordial Not a 'snack' but like if the Shaftlands are known for ruby berries I feel like this is close enough. It's from Anne of Green Gables, shhh its soooo good

Materials and Ingredients - Raspberries (GASP can you believe it) - Lemon/lemon juice - White sugar - Water - Sparkling water/Ginger Ale works too. Sprite is a stretch. - Pot/Stove - Fine mesh strainer - Pitcher - Ladle - Glass measuring cup

Instructions:

We're making a raspberry syrup, so you can use fresh, overripe or frozen raspberries. For every cup of raspberries, use just under a half cup of sugar, (3 cups of raspberries = 1 1/4 cups of sugar), and put both into a pot/saucepan.

Cook on medium/high heat and mash with like. the bottom of a ladle or something. It'll take like 20 minutes to have it cooked down to a liquid.

Strain into the measuring cup. If there are still seeds or pulp, strain again. Squeeze lemon into it in small amounts and taste as you go until you get the flavour You Want. This is your syrup. At this point, if you want to save some to use for other recipes or something, set some aside.

Boil the water (Use one cup more of water than you did of raspberries) and add it to the pitcher with your raspberry syrup. Mix, then let it chill in the fridge. ** if you would like to use sparkling water/lemonade or ginger ale instead, you'll just have to mix for longer is all, don't heat those

Serve and garnish with lemon or mint.

Crewel - Carrot Salad idk man I'm running out of steam and ideas lmaoooo

Materials and Ingredients: - Carrots, peeled - Grater - Bowl - Lemon, salt, cayenne - Fork

Instructions:

Grate your carrots into the bowl you're gonna eat out of

Squeeze your shredded carrots to get rid of the extra Juice (look at GTAT)

Add lemon/lime, salt and cayenne according to taste, and mix with fork

Tastes best chilled, eat immediately

Vargas - Deviled Eggs

Materials and Ingredients: - Saucepan/pot + Stove - Water - Eggs - Mayo - Salt, pepper, paprika, cayenne - Bowl + fork - Lime juice (optional) - Knife and cutting board - Bowl with ice water

Instructions:

Choose how many eggs you're gonna want to make, idk, maybe 6? Put them in the pot and gently fill with just enough water to cover them. Add salt and lemon juice (GTAT) to the water and heat on medium

Prepare your bowl with ice water. Let your eggs boil for about 8 minutes before draining the water and running them under cold water until they're cool enough to handle for a few seconds to put in the ice bath

Wait until your eggs are cold enough to handle for you to crack the egg shells off. I love using my hands but if it's easier to put it in a container with a lid and shake it gently, go ahead, just shake it enough to break the shell in a way you can remove it.

Once all your eggs are shelled, cut them in half the long way, (be careful they are Slippery)

Remove the yolks gently without ripping the egg white. Generally, you can just use your fingers or turn the egg upside down orrr very gently push the yolk out from behind into the bowl.

Add mayo and seasonings at your discretion. (if it feels like it's missing something, you can try adding diced pickles/pickle juice, bacon bits, dill, or mustard.) Mash together with the fork until smooth, or if you're using a lot of eggs you can use a hand mixer. Mixture should be creamy.

Gently spoon the mixture back into the egg whites. Any leftover mixture will be great on sandwiches!

Sam - Sausage Bites

Materials and Ingredients: - 1 Pillsbury OG Crescent Roll dough - Sausage of your choice, cut into 1 inch pieces (unless it's cocktail sausages, leave them as is) - 1 Egg + 1tbsp for an egg wash - Baking sheet + parchment paper (oven) - Flour - Pizza cutter (more fun than a knife) - Plate w/ paper towel - Sauce: 1/2 cup Mayo, 1 tbsp mustard, 1 tbsp ketchup + Cajun seasoning to your hearts content or a simple chipotle mayo works too

Instructions:

Make your sauce, throw it in the fridge to cool, set your oven to 350 F.

Lightly flour your counter and spread out the Pillsbury dough. Cut each triangle into 3 smaller triangles. Place sausage on wide end of the triangle and wrap it to make kind of like. A donut around it.

Place on baking sheet and add egg wash. I don't have a basting brush so I kinda wing it with whatever bright idea strikes me first. Usually I just end up using my fingers lol

Bake for 15 minutes, until pastry is golden brown

Once done, place on plate and allow to cool. Add toothpicks if you'd like, and serve with your dip.

Others (BONUS, come on guys I'm pretending like this is something people actually want to read LMAO)

Jack T. - Vanilla Latte Bars

Materials and Ingredients: - Coffee beans - Vanilla - Pitted dates - Rolled oats - Food processor - Cake pan + parchment paper

Instructions:

For every cup of oats, match with pitted dates + 1/2 a cup. (2 cups oats = 2 1/2 cups of dates). For every cup of oats, add a 1/8 cup of coffee beans. (2 cups oats = 1/4 cup coffee beans). Add vanilla with your heart. Everything goes in the food processor and gets blended.

Pinch the 'dough' between your fingers. If it doesn't crumble, it's ready. If it does, add a splash of warm water, blend again, and repeat until the dough holds it's shape.

Press mixture into cake pan evenly and refrigerate

Cut and serve once hardened

Che'nya - Cheez-whiz, pickle and mini-marshmallow sandwich Oh, context? Yeah my dad said this was his childhood snack and I wanted to be like him when I was like 5. Do not recommend. But I also don't like processed cheese.

Materials and Ingredients - White bread, Wonder bread is ideal - Cheez-whiz - Sweet pickles, sliced - Multi coloured mini marshmallows - A psych assessment

Instructions:

You don't get help with this. You know what you're doing.

Falena - Chicharrones (Like. Pork bites.)

Materials and Ingredients: - Cutting board + knife - Pork cutlet (I only need to feed myself, so a huge cut of meat isn't necessary - Salt - Baking tray + parchment paper (oven)

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 350 F.

Cut your pork cut into ~1 inch cubes, or smaller. Place on baking sheet and use a generous amount of salt to season. Mix with your hands.

Cook until you can easily pull the pork apart

I like to use a little lemon, a little homemade tortilla and some crema to eat them, but just lemon or using them to top nachos works too

Cheka - Poor Man's Horchata He just likes it more because he can set it up mostly by himself, and he can share it without worrying about nut allergies.

Materials and Ingredients - Pitcher - Water - White sugar - Oats - Vanilla - Cinnamon - Ice - Wooden spoon

Instructions:

For every cup of oats, add half a cup of sugar into pitcher (or cup for a personal serving)

Bring 3/4 full with water and add ice to bring it as high as you are comfortable stirring.

Add remaining ingredients to taste, and add sugar/water/oats as necessary

Najma - Mango with Tajin

Materials and Ingredients - Cutting board and knife - Mango - Tajin - Bowl

Instructions:

Cut your mango however you like. I typically cube my Haden mangoes, but Ataulfo I do the grid thing and pop it up

Add Tajin to your preference. If you don't have Tajin, use lime, salt and cayenne.

Neige (and the dwarves) - Tarte Soleil (higher effort snack) It's easy to share and 'sun tart' feels fitting

Materials and Ingredients: - 2 puff pastries, cut into equal size circles - Egg for wash, like Sam's - Black and white sesame seeds, (Optional) - Garlic butter (softened butter w/ garlic powder, salt, lemon and parsley to taste) - Baking sheet + parchment paper (oven) - Water - Cup/Glass - Knife

Instructions:

Cut your puff pastry so it's just small enough to fit on your baking sheet. Leave one on the sheet and put the other in the fridge for now. Preheat your oven to 350 F.

Spread the garlic butter on the circle, leaving about a half inch untouched all the way around the circle. Place in the fridge for 5 minutes to set.

Dab the edges of the crust with water and set the other puff pastry on top, gently pressing the edges together (not squishing)

Put the glass smack dab in the middle, or at least best you can, and upside down. (Do not Press.) Use your knife to cut away from the glass and make a bunch of 'rays' (easiest way is to quarter the dough, then cut each quarter into sixths.)

Remove the glass and gently press where your 'ray' meets the circle the glass made to prevent it from ripping as you twist it. Repeat for every 'ray'

Egg wash, (just like Sam's), sprinkle sesame seeds and bake until golden brown (30-35 minutes)

Let it cool, transfer to serving plate, and rip off the rays to eat.

---------------------------------------------

GENERAL TIPS AND TRICKS

If you need to melt chocolate and don't have a microwave (been there love, I know), you can use a small pot with water in it, I would say about a third of the pot is good, and a glass bowl big enough to sit on top of it. Boil that motherfucker and melt chocolate in the glass bowl, this is basically a poor man's double boiler

To clean melted sugar from the pot, there's a couple ways to go about it. I can't relax when I know there are dishes still waiting for me, so I used my kettle to boil more water, poured it into the pot, mixed it around with the fork I used, and most of it dissolved. I poured it down the sink, then used a sponge, soap and brute force to get the rest of it out. The other option is similar, where you just add fresh water to what's left of the sugar mixture, let it sit overnight, boil it again, and then dump it. (don't use cold water it will harden against the pot and be even more difficult to clean)

Some oven's don't go that low, I think the other common lowest temp is 170 F. That's okay! You can use a pair of metal tongs to keep your oven slightly ajar, just check in on it every once in a while. I use the same trick when I make meringue cookies and it works perfectly. Makes it wonderful during winter, but in summer make sure you don't overheat love <3.

You'll know the oil is hot enough to deep fry if you 1. put the back end of a wooden spoon in the oil and bubbles form around it, or 2. drop a small bit of the batter/flour in and it starts bubbling.

If you don't like bell peppers, you can shred carrots or zucchini, just make sure you squeeze and drain out the water first. You can do this with a cheese cloth or just your hands and pouring the water/juice out of the bowl over the sink. The dryer you can get it the better.

Adding lemon juice to the water helps separate the shell from the egg

--------------------------------------------------

I did this shit in like 8 hours gooooooooooooooooooooooooood I hope it doesn't flop. But if it does, I hope whoever it does reach, enjoys it, I had fun making it.

[eggtartz]

a/n : i know i said i won't write smut for a while but... i blame it on these two i had to 😔

warnings : smut (you know what to do with that), uhm the basics stuff i guess?!, blowjob, implied open relationship

Eiffel Tower (f! reader)

it started as a stupid challenge from the internet. it was a dumb bet, one you had mentioned to both Konig and Ghost. "who doesn't jack off for a month gets a reward" you purred to the two. initially, both of men had it easy. they were military men, having sheer and concentration of steel. that was, until, in the middle of November, you bought big guns. you were parading around the base with a seduction of Persephone and the beauty of Athena. Ghost had to excuse himself to release some steam, fighting his raging boner to the point the dummy in the training room broke. Konig is fuming under his sniper mask, the bulge in his pants were obvious. it's the way you glance at him that made him feral and he was tempted to touch himself or just slam your body on the wall to fuck you to the point you pass out.

alas, the two made it.

you gnawed your lip, determined to sabotage the two the best as you could. you slid to Ghost's office, making sure the uniform is showing some skin to him. his groan was muffled and he had to reposition himself. when your hands went to linger on the area of his crotch, he looked at you. a warning. "no touching, remember?". another failed plan.

you took matters in your hands, going into Konig's room and waiting for him on the bed, your hair down and pants gone. he entered and almost stumbled. still, he picked up your clothes and wore it back on you. he handled you like a toddler as you scowled. "wait!" you said when he left with a boner straining his boxers.

it went on and on, this sabotage of yours. none of them worked. you were getting annoyed, glancing at the calendar to see it's already the ends of November. the clock rings it's December and your door burst, two men towering over you.

you wanted to chuckle at their desperate actions as Ghost turned off your laptop and Konig carried you to the bed. you yelped as he threw you on the bed, biting your lip in excitement. "fucking hell, never going to entertain your ideas again princess" Ghost voice was deep, his hands hastily unfastening his belt. Konig gripped a fist of your hair "Ja, next time we're fucking you whenever we want to" he whispers as your insides tingled with excitement. he lifts his sniper mask as kisses your face but not on the lips. he rips off your uniform and discarded it on the floor. Ghost has already pumped his fist around his cock, observing how your pretty neck is getting strangled by Konig. Konig brings big hands to your neck as you giggled, his hands groping the flesh of your boobs. you panted in excitement and want as Konig latched on one breast, grazing his teeth on the nipple and with his tongue swirling the areola.

Ghost groaned, spitting on his hand and bringing it back to his cock. he pants, trying not to cum just yet. he slaps the other boob of yours and flicks the nipple carelessly. "put that lovely mouth to a use lovie" he nudges the tip on your lips, the other hand under your jaw. your drool drips on his slit as he pushes it in with a grunt. "hah.. feels so good" he rasps. he thrusted with no pace, sloppy as he fists your hair and using your mouth as he pleases. his vision grow blurry as you hollowed your cheeks to take in his length more and naughty hands fondled his balls.

Konig has moved down, placing himself right between your legs. he licked the underwear you had on as he pushed them aside, not shy to plunge two fingers inside your salivating pussy. you whimpered around Ghost's cock as he bought his hand to your throat. "focus now". Konig chuckles, going straight to your clit, sucking it. you whimper again as his fingers moved in and out of you as his mouth works wonders, generous. he latched his mouth on the mound, leaving the area wet and slick as precum drips from your weeping pussy. your throat vibrates with pleasure as it got violated deliciously by Ghost. two men were making you feel good and you loved it. laying there and being used like a toy for their own. "don't get lost yet we're hardly finished" Konig whispers, cruelly slapping your pussy as your hips shifted. you screamed around Ghost's cock as his cum gurgled in your throat. "fuckkk.." Ghost pumped the last bit of cum, tapping on your tongue. "you got to try her throat, Konig. works far much better than your bloody hands" he says, not giving a care as you panted, dazed with heart in your eyes. Ghost and Konig changed positions as Konig turned your body, 69 style.

the Colonel wasn't going easy, immediately placing his cock into your mouth as he slurps on your pussy. getting cockdrunk, you made kitten licks on the tip and licked the whole length as he ate you out. you could see Ghost sitting nearby, his cock still hard and he's still pumping it out. you smiled, slobbering around his cock and loving the affect you have on both men. they were inpatient and hands couldn't stay away. Konig spits at the entrance of your pussy, his tongue thrusting in and out as you take his whole cock that was big just like he is. you choked as Ghost held your hair up and tying it with your hairband. "keep it up, Schatz" Konig raised his hips, suffocating you with his cock and bullying your pussy.

one thing was Konig always had to edge you, he was sucking your clit but when your insides pulse with need, he stops. "ah.. keep going please.." you whined, his cock in your hand. Ghost smiles behind his skull mask "this is what you get for sabotaging us. take it like a good girl yeah?".

at the cue, Konig brings your body up from the bed and on your knees. he brings his body behind you as Ghost went in front. their hands roamed your body, making it tingle and leaving you sweaty, moaning mess. it was slow as Ghost penetrated your mouth again with his cock as Konig spears your pussy with his. your eyes widened as Konig holds to your hips since your knees buckles and Ghost holds on to your jaw. the hold was firm as you take in the pressure, getting stuffed in each hole. they didn't moved for a bit before Ghost gently thrusts and Konig moves as well. it was heaven bliss as your hands moved to Ghost's thighs for stability as your insides are getting stirred. left vulnerable and naked, the two men used your body and was going to dump inside a month worth of cum. "taking us so good Schatz. this pussy misses us, huh?" Konig whispers, deep and shallows thrusts. "bet it does. she's a greedy one alright" Ghost voice dripped with tease as him and Konig punches their fists in victory.

victory of making you a sobbing mess that is. "mmh more! Konig.." you whined, Ghost's dick springed out your mouth as you huff. "hm, are you sure you're the one making rules here?" Ghost looks down to you, his brooding presence making you shrink as Konig pulls your hips back in a bruising grip and Ghost plunged your throat. you gagged as tears stain your cheeks and Ghost wipes it with his thumb. it was bruising and animalistic, how the bedframe shake with feral thrusts. Konig grabbed a handful of your ass, making sure it's sore by the end.

the two switch places as they flipped your body, this time on your back and cranes your neck, Konig viciously choking your throat as he could see the bulge. he looks to Ghost who's enjoying himself between your legs. your sweet nectar mixed with Konig's precum licked away by the lustful man, eager. Ghost taps your clit making your hips buck as the torment went on. you were sore all over as your limbs went out. you babbled as the two passed you over like a doll and the two were far from finished.

[haveihitanerve]

Stephanie Brown hated Galas. Well, that wasn't exactly true. She loved parties of any kind, and technically a Gala was just a big fancy party. More accurately, she hated the people at Galas. The rich, snooty elite who looked down at her with their perfectly straight noses, a polar opposite of her very crooked nose because one can only spend so long as a vigilante and get your nose broken and set so many times before ones nose loses its original shape. Hated them with their fake pitying looks. The whispers about her being just another street rat. Orphan trash. Which wasn't even true, but Steph preferred it to if they knew the truth. All in all, the company at Galas wasn't particularly pleasant. Which is how she found herself huddled in the far corner, nursing a glass of champagne. “You're not old enough to be drinking that.” rumbled a deep voice. Stephanie almost dropped her glass. As it was, it sloshed around enough to spill onto the front of her dress. “Asshole.” Steph hissed, setting the drink aside and reaching for napkins or something. “Cant you just approach like a regular human?” She griped. Bruce Wayne smirked at her, tugging out his own handkerchief to help her. “No bruce, thats your- pocket thingy.” Steph declined, shoving his hand away. “Stephanie.” Bruce let out a sigh of exasperation. “It doesn't matter. Stop- stop, here.” He leaned forward, dabbing at the spill. Steph grumbled, but dropped her hands, letting him work. “What are you even doing in my sulk corner? Shouldn't you be out there- i dunno, bedazzling the guests?” Bruce chuckled lightly, looking up at her from where he was crouched. “Bedazzling? Sulk corner?” He pulled away, satisfied with his work, standing up straight. Steph crossed her arms. “Ah. I see it now.” Steph uncrossed them. Bruce granted her another listen of his laugh. “I wanted to see you.” Steph raised an eyebrow. “You can see me just fine from over there.” Bruce gave her a look. “Come on, you're dancing now.” “what?? No- no Bruce!” she hissed, but it was too late, he had her hand and was dragging her to the dance floor. “Bruce!” Steph hissed through gritted teeth as he swung her around into a dance pose. “Im not supposed to be here!” She whispered as he led her in a circle, one arm securely on her waist the other steadily holding her hand. Bruce raised a perfect brow. (damn him) “Why not?” Steph looked around at the very obvious eyes on the richest man in the room dancing with her. Steph's cheeks flushed. “I don't- im not one of them.” She gestured at the crowd around them before letting it fall back onto his shoulder. Bruce smiled. “I don't care about that Stephanie.” Steph blushed. “No no i know you don't. But they do.” Bruce shrugged. “Who cares what they think? I’m the richest man in this entire room. They're just some elite fuckwads. Fuck them if they cant deal with me dancing with my daughter.” 

Steph gaped at him, eyes wide. “I’m sorry did I just die and am in hell? Does Bruce Wayne say fuck in hell?” Bruce rolled his eyes. “And secondly, when did you adopt me?” Now it was Bruce’s turn for his eyes to go wide. “You mean I haven't already?” He gasped. “You have your own room at the manor and I have a headache that is induced by your presence.” Steph scoffed. “Those are all the requirements?” Bruce shrugged. “I mean theres stuff like, I love you, and I would hate to live in a world without you and all that-” Steph wrinkled her nose. Bruce nodded. “Yeah exactly. So those are the main criteria.” He suddenly looked a little nervous. “Are you saying you don't want to be adopted?” Steph rolled her eyes. “Don't get all sentimental on me now B. I mean, maybe?” She shrugged. “I don't know if I fit the requirement.” Bruce stared at her. “Headache. Induced by your presence.” Steph rolled her eyes. “Not your requirements. I could be a fucking delight or a little gremlin and so long as I looked pathetic enough at certain times you'd be willing to adopt me.” She threw a look over at Damian and Jason. “Actually thats not even a requirement.” Bruce scoffed. “I just meant, their requirements.” Bruce looked confused. “The kids? They all love you. In fact, I think you're the least stabbed out of everyone by Damian.” “No i meant- wait really?” Bruce nodded. “Huh.” Steph glanced back over at him, and indeed, Damian even smiled when she caught his eye.  “Anyways.” Steph sighed. “I meant your friends. Society.” She clarified when it was clear he was about to bring up some bullshit about Clark and Diana. “Ah.” Dawning realization swept over Bruces face. “Yeah.” Steph muttered. “Im afraid your ‘ton’ wont take so kindly to another charity cased street rat.” Bruces hold on her hand tightened and Steph looked up in surprise. “Don't.” Bruces voice was uncharacteristically hard. “Don't ever say that about yourself again Stephanie do you hear me? You are not the insults they call you. If it was acceptable for me to rip out their vocal cords everytime i hear them say that sort of stuff about you, about jason and dick and-” Bruce cut off, breathing hard. “Alfred denies me, although he is no fonder of it.” Steph gave a laugh that sounded suspiciously close to a sob. “Okay.” She whispered. Bruce smiled in relief. But Steph wasn't done. “Okay you can adopt me.” If Steph had any doubts of Bruce’s feelings being untrue, the pure elation on his face just then destroyed any of them. That look of pure joy just couldn't be scripted. And so, under the watching eyes of every elite member in Gotham, she threw herself at his neck, wrapping herself around him in a tight hug. She didn't care anymore. After all, they were just some elite fuckwads.

[mire1li]

Kafka and Blade got too silly!

Kidnappers shouldn't be... hot... right?... right? - Kafka

Alternatively - Blade's version!

You looked at the two people standing in front of you. Though they weren’t exactly paying attention, they were still there and whispering stuff amongst themselves. 

You recognised both to be Kafka and Blade from the Xianzhou wanted posters. Jing Yuan had warned you of possible dangers of the job he offered you. Being his secretary certainly wasn’t easy, and the situation you’d gotten yourself into wasn’t helping.

Nevertheless, you never expected to actually get kidnapped. Especially by those two. 

“They’re awake.” Blade sighed, making it clear he was irritated and would rather be doing something else. 

Both he and Kafka looked at you, she crossing her arms and lightly smiling. 

Certainly, Blade wasn’t too happy with you after you struggled so much when they came to get you. 

You ended up kicking him in a few places since Kafka refused to use her ‘spirit whisper’ on you as it would be ‘inhumane’ as she claimed. “Since when do you care about that?” He asked her, avoiding one of your kicks. 

Kafka chuckled “Since now.” 

“You’re terrible.” 

“Oh, I know~ now come on, we need to go before the General returns.” 

“Tell us what you know.” Blade walked up to you, looking down at you. 

“I refuse.” 

Kafka stood in the back, watching the situation unfold before her eyes. It was no surprise she found this entertaining. 

“Tell us what you know.” He repeated, narrowing his eyes as he clenched his fists. 

You sighed, shaking your head. 

“No can do.” You leaned on the wall, sighing over-dramatically. Honestly, if they hadn’t kidnapped you, mayhaps you would’ve given them some information, though useless, however, this certainly was quite entertaining so you didn’t mind much. “Tell me what you know or else.” He replied, scowling at you as he grit his teeth.

“So mean! However… I’m not going to be providing you with any information. I don’t feel like betraying the Luofu.” 

He unsheathed his sword, pointing it at you. You slightly jumped, having not expected that, however, before he could actually do anything more, Kafka stepped in. 

“Alright, that’s enough of that.” She walked in between the two of you, moving his sword aside gently. 

“I’ll take it from here, Bladie. Why don’t you go… somewhere over there.” She waved her hand, motioning to the back of the room. 

Blade grumbled something under his breath and begrudgingly sheathed his sword. He walked to the back of the room,  standing in the corner. 

“Now then,” Kafka glanced back at you. 

“What’s stopping you from telling us what we want to know? Your loyalty?” She asked, shifting to stand in a thinking pose. 

“Actually… don’t answer that, I don’t really care.” She lightly narrowed her eyes at you, humming in thought. She looked like she was contemplating something. “I gotta tell you… you look really hot right now.” You chuckled, looking at her in awe. 

“Hm? Well, thank you~” Kafka snickered. 

“Say… can I get your number? Maybe we can go out sometime!” You exclaimed, now standing up properly. The woman in front of you wasn’t much taller, if at all. Seemingly, you were the same height as her. 

“My number?” She asked, as her eyes widened a slight amount, her grin adorning her face. 

“Hm… we can figure something out~” 

“Really?” You looked at her dumbstruck, expecting her to have declined. You glanced at Blade, who was staring intently at the two of you with a hint of confusion on his face.

It was quite amusing to see him look so confused. He made it quite obvious he wasn’t one to show his emotions. 

“Well, yes! I suppose there’s no reason not to~”

Kafka took out her phone and gave you her number, she found it very entertaining how you’d asked her out. Though, she didn’t quite believe you were serious, she still accepted, believing it could be fun. 

You sent her a quick message, double-checking you typed her number in right, to which she sent back a sticker. “Now then~ back to the topic at hand…” Kafka spoke up, bringing back her original goal. 

“Will you willingly give up the information or will I have to use… more drastic measures?” She laughed, speaking in a joking tone, however, you could tell that she wasn’t exactly joking…

[rainwingmarvel7]

Just the Way You Are - Jinx x OC

Part III. Sweet but Psycho

A bright, unfamiliar light shone through Kasper’s swollen eyelids, startling him awake. His eyes fluttered open as a sharp gasp escaped his lips, his breathing quick and ragged. He tried to sit up, only to be overwhelmed with agony as his entire body retaliated with terrible pain.

A pair of slender hands pressed against his chest, gently forcing him to lay back down. Kasper gritted his teeth against the pain that shot through him with every movement as he was lowered to the ground again.

“Woah, woah, woah. Take it easy there, Blondie.”

Jinx leaned her head into his view, dabbing at his clavicle with a bloodstained rag that smelled strongly of alcohol. It stung as it touched his battered skin, but he was in too much pain to flinch away.

“Try not to move too much,” she said. “You took a real beating back there, you know? You got broken ribs, a broken nose, fractures in your face, a shit ton of other bad stuff. And you were stabbed twice. You’re lucky you’re still alive.” She flashed Kasper a cheeky grin. “You can thank me for that later.”

“Who… who are you?” Kasper rasped, his voice hoarse and quiet and scraping against his throat likes claws, seeing as his vocal cords were still swollen from strangulation.

Jinx tilted her head at him. “You really haven’t heard of me?” she asked.

“No,” Kasper responded breathlessly. “Just the name. Jinx.” He inhaled through his teeth. “Your name is Jinx.”

“That’s me,” Jinx hummed. She tapped him on the chest, which was bare and slicked with sweat and blood. “And you’re some Piltover hotshot, Kasper Glas.”

Kasper started to laugh but was cut off by a bought of shallow coughs that rattled his damaged ribs. Jinx’s bluntness with her words amused him. He liked it.

“Mm, yes, that sounds about right,” he mused. He studied her as best he could through his slightly blurred vision. “You work for Silco, don’t you?”

“Well, that’s one way of putting it,” Jinx said lightly, wiping off her hands and throwing aside the rag.

“Why… why did you save me?” Kasper asked.

“Because Silco wanted me to look after you and make sure you got out of here safely,” Jinx responded. She pointed a scolding finger at him. “But then you went and got yourself in some pretty big trouble, Mister. You’re lucky I was there to get your pretty little ass out of it.”

“Don’t I know it,” Kasper remarked. He furrowed his brow, giving Jinx a curious look. “So, Silco wants me alive.”

Jinx nodded as she reached for something out of Kasper’s line of sight. “He does. For some reason. You must be something pretty special,” she said. “He’s not really a fan of Topsiders. Neither am I.”

“Perhaps I could change your mind?” Kasper offered with a weak smile.

“You can sure as hell try,” Jinx said with a lopsided grin in return. She shook the metal device she was holding, which Kasper now realized was a staple gun.

His eyes widened. “What is that for?” he asked, alarmed.

“You, dummy,” Jinx responded as if it were obvious. “Those guys got you pretty good.” She poked at the stab wound on his side, still oozing blood, and he winced. “So, I’m gonna fix you up. Can’t have you bleeding to death. Then there would be no point in me saving you in the first place! Now, hold still. This is gonna hurt like a motherfucker.”

“You really have no bedside manner, do y- AH!” Kasper cried out as Jinx pinched the skin around his side wound closed and administered the first staple. A jolt of pain shot through him like lightning, and the skin around the staple burned angrily. “OH FUCK! That hurts!”

“Told ya,” Jinx hummed, somehow still smiling down at him despite the gravity of the situation.

Without giving him any time to recover, she pulled the trigger again, firing a second staple into the wound. Kasper let out a strangled gasp, tensing his muscles as he fought back against the agony coursing through his body.

The pain was so awful that there were stars in his vision, and he furiously blinked them away as tears spilled down his face.

Jinx kept going, unloading three more staples into his side. Then she shifted around, straddling his hips as she carefully lifted him up into a sitting position. She rested his head on her bony shoulder, which seemed perfectly curved for his chin.

Despite the situation, Kasper felt his heart rate increase at their close proximity. He had never been so close to a woman before, aside from Caitlyn, but that was different.

“Hold on tight, pretty boy,” Jinx said softly, her warm breath stirring through his hair. “It’s almost over.”

“Please, let it be,” Kasper whispered, wrapping his arms around her torso as he braced himself for the pain.

Jinx brushed his hair off his back and grabbed onto his bicep, her nails digging into his bruised skin to hold him there as she delivered the first staple into his back.

Kasper’s whole body shook at the sharp impact, and his grip on Jinx tightened with the pain.

“Okay, that’s the last of ‘em,” she said once she was done, patting him on the back. “You’re good, Blondie.”

Kasper exhaled a shaky sigh of relief, sweat dripping down his forehead and bloody salvia running down his chin. He let his arms drop back to his sides, although he couldn’t muster the strength to lift his head from Jinx’s shoulder.

She grabbed him by his armpits and hoisted him backwards with a grunt of effort, so that his back was against her couch, and he was able to sit up without putting too much strain on himself.

Kasper groaned, leaning his head back on the couch and closing his eyes, taking breaths as deep as he could muster and fighting back the waves of agony pulsing through him. It took everything in him just to stay conscious.

“Hey, stay with me here, okay? I’m not finished with you yet,” Jinx said, nudging his leg with her foot.

He peeked open his eyes to look at her, and she crouched down to his eye level and waved an intricate syringe in front of him, filled with a vibrant purple liquid.

“What is that?” Kasper asked warily.

“Shimmer,” Jinx replied.

“Shimmer?” Kasper echoed. “The drug?”

“Uh-huh. That’s the one,” Jinx responded casually. “But don’t worry, you can’t overdose on this stuff.”

“Where did you get it?” Kasper asked. “Looks nice.”

“It is,” Jinx hummed. “I borrowed it from Silco. He uses it for his bad eye.” As she spoke, she pulled down her lower eyelid, exposing her eyeball for emphasis. “You know the one. Helps him with the pain. Should help with yours too.”

“Then give it to me,” Kasper rasped desperately.

“Sheesh, no need to beg,” Jinx remarked with a grin.

She flicked the syringe with her finger, then rested her free hand on his chest, just above his side wound.

“Here it goes,” she warned.

She pressed down on the syringe, injecting a dose of Shimmer into his side near the wound. It jolted through his system like lightning, and a gasp of shock escaped his lips.

Jinx gave him five more injections on his side and four on his shoulder. They were quick but potent. Already, Kasper could feel it working through his system.

He had never experienced anything like it before, the way it burned through his veins and filled him with renewed strength. His hands were trembling from the potency, but the pain throughout his body was quickly reduced to a dull but persistent throbbing. He moaned with relief, his muscles relaxing.

“Feelin’ better, Blondie?” Jinx asked cheerfully.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” Kasper breathed. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jinx responded. She tapped his nose with a finger. “Somebody’s gotta look out for you down here.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s you,” Kasper said sincerely. “You saved my life.”

Jinx grabbed his chin in her hand. “Aren’t you a big sap?” she hummed. She scrunched up her nose. “How sweet.”

“I owe you my life,” Kasper said.

“Yeah, I guess you do” Jinx responded with a cackle.

She let go of him and stood, fidgeting with the syringe in her hands.

“I’m gonna go tell Silco what went down and then find you some bandages to patch you up,” she said. “You should get some rest until I get back. You’re gonna need it.”

“Wait. When can I go home?” Kasper asked.

Jinx shrugged. “Don’t know,” she responded. “Looks like you’re stuck here with me, pretty boy.”

Kasper offered her a small smile. “Could be worse.”

Jinx grinned back at him, this time a bit softer. “Could be.”

[hey-heigo]

Chapter 31

first chapter of da year :)

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

not much to say for this one. kind of a transitional chapter into the trial

every now and then i re-reference the game transcripts and realize that ive missed a lot of stuff that's kind of important within the game canon and it becomes a race to see if and where i can introduce those naturally

beta'd by @digitaldollsworld!

Content warning tags: Monokuma-typical dialogue, hangnail fixation, student tardiness

< previous - from start - next >

Makoto jitters as he waits by the elevator entrance with the others, chewing on a hangnail on his thumb. It’s a bad habit he had throughout elementary and middle school, and one his mom would definitely get pissed at him for reviving.

Sorry mom, he thinks distantly, as the tiny sliver of skin gets caught between his teeth just so - and is joined by a bead of blood, hot metal on his tongue, as he tugs open a tiny, stinging wound next to his fingernail. But he felt like there were ants marching under his skin, a steady, anxious march of them as he waits for what feels like ages, glancing repeatedly at the doorway.

A few moments later, there’s the sound of clomping footsteps and indistinct words, and he nearly gets a twinge in his neck twisting around to see who it was. But it’s not Byakuya, or Kyoko, or even Hifumi - but Monokuma, uncharacteristically reserved (and, for some reason, missing a few patches of fur across its head and torso) and dragging Toko along by the edge of her skirt. And Toko…

He blinks, forgetting to be apprehensive for a moment. The characteristic twin braids that usually swung from her head were gone, shorn messily and at uneven lengths, just above the shoulders. The right side still had enough length to hold its shape as a braid, though there were a lot of messy, flyaway strands poking outwards that gave the impression that she’d been electrocuted. The left side was cut shorter, in line with her chin, and was completely undone, frizzing outwards from her face. There’s a band-aid - reddish-pink and patterned with white bunnies - slapped high across her left cheekbone. Her glasses were askew.

For a moment, no one dares to say a word, as her eyes flick between them, wide and wild and blazing with rage. “W-What are you looking at?” She snarls, voice stuttering only slightly, but enough to confirm that, yes, she was Toko, and Makoto relaxes a little.

(Not that he had anything against Syo, really, aside from the…murder. But Syo was a lot, and he wasn’t sure he could handle her right now.)

“...Toko?” Hina tries, tentatively, and she flinches, hard enough for her glasses to slip even further down her nose. “What - what happened…?”

“Isn’t it o-obvious?” She snaps bitterly. She yanks her skirt free from Monokuma’s grasp - who doesn’t even make a sound of protest or indignation, weirdly enough - her fingers white-knuckling the fabric, before shoving her glasses back with the palm of one hand. “She cut them off. Th-thought it’d be funny, or something…n-not that she ever th-thinks about what it matters to me…”

No one really knows what to say to that. “...Well,” Sakura eventually says, a little awkwardly. “It doesn’t look…bad.”

“Y-eah…” Hiro agrees, sounding way too skeptical to be believable. “It just…needs to be evened out?”

Whatever comfort they were trying to offer was lost on her, who only scowls fiercer, as she moves to isolate herself to a corner, her typical habit. Clearly no longer interested in entertaining any further conversation, though Makoto can feel her eyes boring into him when he looks away, returning his thumb to his lips.

The minutes tick by in an agonizing crawl. Monokuma is waiting silently with them now, adding a new layer of anxiety as it cycles between tapping its foot dramatically to staring at its wrist like it’s checking a watch, and yet the last three of their party is nowhere to be seen.

The hangnail Makoto was teething at finally gives up the ghost and snaps off with a sharp, needle-prick of warmth. Instead of pulling his thumb out of his mouth, though, he tongues at the raw, weeping skin, tasting salt and copper and another bloom of hot pain.

The sound of footsteps has him jerking to look again, dragging his hand from his mouth, and a moment later the sound is followed by Byakuya and Hifumi, rushing - kind of - towards them. Neither of them are moving especially fast, and Byakuya was keeping pace with Hifumi, though Makoto’s not sure if that’s on purpose, or, if something else was going on - he did seem to be struggling, his brow pinched, uncharacteristically stumbling somewhat as they reach the group. But the rest of him seems okay, and that in itself is enough of a relief to make Makoto rush over to meet him.

“Hey,” He starts, and then realizes he’s not sure what to say. Not for lack of stuff that he wants to say - ‘are you okay’ being the first one, ‘are your legs okay’ being the second, ‘did you eat anything yet’ being the third - but he also has the feeling Byakuya wouldn’t actually answer any of those at this instant.

So instead he settles for the next most important thing: “Where’s Kyoko?”

Byakuya’s face tightens a little more. “Coming up behind us,” He replies tersely, before grabbing onto his shoulder: “What did you find?”

“A-A lot,” Makoto stammers, a little taken aback by the sudden question. He reaches into his pocket to show him, but no sooner does his fingers brush smooth plastic than does something -firm and plush, Monokuma’s paw - smack his knee with surprising force. “Ow!”

“No spoilers!” The bear barks, once more its over-animated self - though somehow, the few clumps of fur that Syo had snipped off of it makes it look a lot more menacing than usual. “Grr…when I say it’s trial time, I mean it! That means no more schemin’, plottin’, conspirin’, nothin’! You save what you got for the trial so it’s fair!”

“Even lawyers will discuss before and during trial proceedings,” Byakuya points out, and Monokuma glares, red eye flashing bright and dangerous.

“Oh yeah? Well that’s that and this is this! I’m the law here! And the senate and the captain, and I speak for the trees, y’hear?!” It shakes its paws threateningly, and everyone leans away from it, uneasy. “Grrah!! That really pissed me off, on top of me already being pissed off about student tardiness! Don’t you know you gotta respect your authorities? Don’t you know you gotta respect other people’s time!? I swear, this generation is gonna go to the dogs!”

“Ugh,” Hina mutters under her breath. “Boomer.”

“Dude,” Hiro hisses next to her, still sweating with fear. “Shut up.”

“And where’s Kirigiri?!” Monokuma continues its tirade, undeterred by the errant comments. “She’s late!”

“She’s on her way,” Byakuya says stiffly, at the same time as Hifumi stammers: “She-she said she wanted to check something-”

And immediately, he clamps a hand over his own mouth, eyes widening. Everyone looks to Monokuma, breaths held, as a foreboding shadow passes over the toy’s unmoving face.

“Sh-she probably went to the bathroom or something!” Makoto interjects quickly, at the same time shuffling to the side to stand in front of the exit. “She’ll be here any moment, so-”

“Outta the way, Makoto,” Monokuma barks, and really, the rage would be comical if Makoto didn’t know what it was capable of. He could practically see steam blowing out of Monokuma’s ears. “Tardiness is one thing, but breaking the rules is another. Investigating outside of investigation time is like breaking out the volleyball during math class! Super wrong and super not allowed!”

“If it weren’t allowed, it should be written more clearly in the rules.” Says a voice from behind him, as cool and unaffected as ever.

He spins, and can’t help the relieved grin that threatens to break across his face. Hiro shouts, “Kyoko!” and she only nods, acknowledging them briefly before stepping forward to stand in front of Monokuma.

“Sorry if I’m late,” She says tersely. “But I was walking directly here. You can check on the cameras if you want.”

“Don’t get smart with me…” Monokuma shakes its paw at her. “That’s no excuse! When I say ‘trial time’, that means you show up within five minutes! Any later and I put out a warrant! Any later later and you get penalized!”

“If that’s the case, shouldn’t you make that more clear?” Byakuya scoffs. “This is the first time we’re hearing about this.”

Monokuma rounds on him instead. “It’s basic decency! Common sense! D’you also want me to teach you one plus one is three!?”

Makoto watches as Byakuya’s eye literally twitches, lip simultaneously curling in disgust. “It’s not like she was wandering aimlessly. And you’ve never discussed these kinds of regulations before, or emphasized the importance of them thereof. It’s not even written out in the rules - which, as you’ve made clear by this point, is our standard for what we can or can’t do - so how are we supposed to know that this is a punishable offense?”

Monokuma’s eyes flash again, bright, hospital-sign-red, and its whole body seems to be vibrating in place with barely-contained fury, and Makoto makes a blind grab for Byakuya’s hand, with the intention to stop him before something bad really happens; because as much as his words make sense, Monokuma was weird today. The bear’s unexpected silence only to be followed up with something bordering on rage, over Kyoko being just a few minutes late - Makoto can still vividly remember Junko’s eyes, wide and trembling, staring at him as Monokuma nonchalantly tossed a cloth over her skewered body and shooed them away -

Byakuya doesn’t flinch when Makoto squeezes his wrist, but his eyelids drop and flicker slightly, and too late, Makoto registers the crossing pattern of bandages under his fingertips and remembers, loosening his hold quickly and guiltily; Byakuya doesn’t really react to it, doesn’t even look at him, though he does shake his hand out slightly before returning it to hang loose at his side. 

“Smart-aleck, huh?” Monokuma growls, squeaky-toy voice low and dangerous. “Well, fine then. If you’re gonna be like that-”

There’s a chorus of unanimous pings, in the air, and then a collective shuffle as everyone digs out their pockets for their handbooks. Byakuya reaches into the pockets of his pants, finds nothing, and for a moment looks so genuinely disheartened that Makoto almost passes over his own handbook, before remembering that it wouldn't really do anything for him. Looking down at his own screen, he stares at the new line below the bulleted list of rules.

“New addendum: ‘when trial time is announced, all are expected to participate. And anyone late by longer than FIVE MINUTES will be PUNISHED.’” Monokuma recites for them as they read. “There, ya happy now? S’That clear enough for you-” And it takes a deep breath, chest puffing out. “-BRATS?”

And Byakuya frowns, chewing on the inside of his cheek again, but doesn’t seem inclined to argue the point anymore. No one does, for that matter, and Makoto thinks he can finally let out the breath he was holding, when he takes a look at Kyoko and sees her brows furrowed contemplatively.

“Just a second,” Kyoko speaks up, closing her handbook with a snap in the same breath, and Makoto has to internally brace himself. “At this point, there’s only eight of us left, with two, almost three people having died earlier, and at least one more of us expected to die today. If we can expect the ‘punishment’ for breaking any of these rules to be the same as established from day one, wouldn’t this end your game sooner?”

Monokuma tilts its head, anger forgotten in an instant. “Puhuhu…is that what you think?” It giggles. “Well first of all, my goal is a thrilling, chilling, killing game! How long or short it is doesn’t matter, as long as the momentum keeps up to the end! ‘Course, I would prefer it if you all could last as long as you can, and show me your drive as Ultimates! …But, you do have a point about the number of victims, so…”

Another ping, and Makoto fumbles to reopen his handbook. “New rule: ‘the blackened may only kill a maximum of two people.’ Unless we somehow make it to the end of the game with three people left, and maybe I’ll reconsider, but that’s for later.” Monokuma leans over to try and pat Kyoko’s knee, and her leg jerks for a moment, as if to kick the robot across the room - instead, she just takes a step back, out of reach. “Good catch, Miss Kirigiri! I do so appreciate thoughtful students!”

She doesn’t look pleased by the praise at all, face darker than usual as she tucks her chin into her knuckles, thinking. In fact, no one does; he catches sight of Sakura’s face scowling as she flicks her handbook closed with a sharp snap, and Hiro’s anxious fidgeting. Hina is the only one who meets his eye, though she just as quickly looks away; but he gets the unspoken message loud and clear. 

No time to discuss it though. “I almost forgot! The whole dang point of this!” Monokuma explains, with a conductor-like flourish of its paws, the lattice doors of the rickety, industrial elevator scrape their way open with a ding. “Alright, everyone! In you go! I’ll meet you down below!”

No one really wants to get on, but after the whole fiasco Monokuma had just put on, no one really wants to test it either. They shuffle their way in, one by one, and Makoto distantly remembers the first time they rode this thing, the weight of fourteen people had elicited a terrifying groan that had everyone frozen, stock still and hardly daring to breathe as they rattled their way down. This time, it doesn’t even creak.

Toko was one of the first to enter, and stationed herself near the doors. She eyes Byakuya with wide red eyes, a strange, intensely focused look on her face, and Makoto hastily shepherds the other boy towards the opposite end of the tiny space and into a back corner, before positioning himself solidly in Toko’s line of sight. He goes to motion for Kyoko, try and beckon her closer so he can tell her about the evidence he’d found-

But, she’s already here, and standing directly in front of Byakuya. Arms crossed, her left hand flexing slowly and deliberately, her leather glove creaking with every stretch and pull. Eyes perfectly glazed over, as if in thought.

“Kyo-”

“Not now.” She mutters, and her gaze flicks briefly to the camera in the corner, and then back into the middle distance.

“But,” He says, whispering now, following her attention to the camera as he reaches into his pocket. “It’s important-”

“It can wait. Don’t reveal anything here.” She says, sharper this time, and this time her eyes darts to the others around them before focusing on him instead, narrowing slightly, pale irises giving the impression of pinprick pupils, like a wild cat. “Understand?”

And he does, a little, but only a little. Even if this was their third trial, it still made him feel like dirt, having to be suspicious of their friends. And it still didn’t get any easier, being treated by Kyoko as something between a personal assistant and confused child; even if she was the only one putting in the most effort into getting everyone out. He clenches his hand in his pocket, momentarily forgetting the open wound on his finger, and cringing at the raw sting of fabric scraping against it, and the prospect of lint getting where it shouldn’t. He looks away, trying to distract himself from that, Kyoko, the impending trial, and the now-familiar sense of impending doom building in his chest with every meter they descended, until his attention falls on Byakuya again.

Byakuya was mirroring Kyoko, arms crossing over his chest, but he’s anything but still. His eyes shake like they don’t know what to focus on, darting, trembling, never at rest. To him, Kyoko, the camera, the descending walls outside the elevator, the others, Toko, him again, the floor. His right cheek is pinched a little with how he’s chewing on it.

He looks younger without his glasses, a lot less regal and closed-off. Makoto had noticed it the night before, right before he kissed him; and though he has the feeling Byakuya wouldn’t appreciate it if he mentioned it, he thinks he really prefers it this way. More human. Less guarded.

“Stop staring.” Byakuya hisses at him, and he jumps, and jerks forward again, face flushing. Had he been making it that obvious?

“Sorry.” He replies, automatically. But he can’t help peeking, especially when he notices the slight, purpling edge of a bruise peeking over the collar of his jacket, zipped all the way up as it is. And decides not to mention that either, at least not right now.

They rattle the rest of the way down in silence.

__

As expected, Monokuma is already waiting for them. Bouncing excitedly on its velvet throne, fur pristine once more. 

A different spare, Kyoko thinks, quietly checking off one of her suspicions as confirmed. They knew well by now that Monokuma likely had a reserve of excess models, but this established that there were different models stationed in different places, which could explain how the puppet seemed to get around so quickly; a mystery that she had been pondering for some time now, and deduced to either be secret tunnels, or multiple spares that the mastermind could switch control between on an instant.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell too deeply on that now. She takes her stand, sliding one hand carefully over her jacket pocket as she does, checking that the contents were still there. Casting a brief glance at Makoto, standing across from her.

It would have been for the best if they could have reconvened before this. But there simply hadn’t been time - and to discuss it on the elevator would have alerted the culprit. It was frustrating, but all she could do now was trust that Makoto had done his job.

“Gosh, when you’re all spread out like this, it really shows just how few of you are left!” Monokuma laughs, and sure enough, everyone’s standing a lot further from each other than before. There are new portraits where there should have once been occupied space, sitting within heavy metal frames - Celeste’s and Mondo’s faces slashed through with bright, offensive crosses. Strange how much of a difference was made by the absence of just two people.

Kyoko wonders who could have put those there - Monokuma, for all its many sleight-of-hand tricks, was nowhere near dextrous in shape or form to handle that kind of labor on its own - was it the Mastermind, then with their own hands? Were they watching from somewhere nearby?

“The rules are the same as always! Find out the blackened who killed your precious classmates! Vote them out! Get it right, and only the culprit is punished! Otherwise, only the culprit gets away scot-free!” She slides her attention back towards the bear as it continues its spiel. There were a lot of moving pieces in this trial, and to put it all together, she couldn’t afford to sit back as she did before. She’d need to speak up as soon as she was able. “Now, to start off - who would like to go first?”

She opens her mouth, but-

“I can.” Makoto says before she can make a sound, and returns her sharp and skeptical stare with a look that’s nothing short of anxious confidence.

“Can you?” She finds herself asking, unable to keep the incredulity out of her voice, and he gives a sharp nod that could have just as easily been a nervous swallow. “Then-”

“He can,” Sakura confirms, interjecting into their call-and-return game, and Kyoko turns to her instead. “Me, Hiro, and Hina can confirm his deductions as well. We saw the evidence.”

“Witnessing someone else’s logic is hardly enough to confirm a definite conclusion.” Byakuya scoffs, cutting off Kyoko once more, and she closes her mouth and tries not to feel too irritated. “But if you’re so confident, then go ahead and tell us who you think the culprit is.”

Things were already going off-course. She’d lost her opportunity to lay out her reasoning - but that was fine, she told herself. There was the chance that Makoto had reached the same conclusion as her, and if not, then she can debunk the evidence he laid out. He glances at her, and she nods once, tilting her head to give him her ear.

“O-okay, well.” He clears his throat hesitatingly. “When it comes to the deaths of Celeste, and the- the attempted murder of Byakuya, the culprit is Mondo.”

< previous - from start - next >

[iamthekaijuking]

Here’s the skulls I made for the vid!

For garang I used Gorillas and Macaques for reference, and for luna I used members of Hesperocyoninae for reference because that’s what I think it is, but like with most things in monhun its phylogenetic placement in the tree of life is kinda subjective.

I don’t have much to say about garang other than, aside from a missing pair of premolars on the mandibles, the dental formula matches perfectly with primates.

I do have more to say on luna however. The pronounced snout arch makes me think Lunagaron might deal with a lot of bite stress and have a very powerful bite. There’s also the long teeth and notch in the tooth line on the upper jaw, which are obvious adaptations for fish eating, but the robustness of the teeth and the iron reinforcement makes me think luna might be more like a cursorial phytosaur or otter, able to eat a wide assortment of things but perfectly capable of eating slippery stuff and being able to crack open armored prey like turtles or mollusks.

I know in the past I’ve said I think luna might have had more aquatic ancestors, and while that’s possible, it’s probably more likely that this trend towards aquatic-ness is actually new. I actually brought up the semi-aquatic luna theory to UHC.

I still stand by a few things I’ve said here such as the thick tail partially being due to fat stores and the scales helping with hydrodynamics and the immune system, but I’m not really sure about luna having one set of teeth anymore.

[razzledazzledo]

HELL AIN’T A BAD PLACE TO BE - PART ONE

CultLeader!Geto x Non-Sorcerer!Reader

This is my first fic, holy smokes! It's a bit shite, but I wanted to have a crack at some writing again (with added art made by yours truly!) I've got a number of chapters in the making, and I will continue to pump out the arty farty stuff too. There will eventually be sm*t so 18+ ONLY

Word count: 2k

Contents: angst to ? ;), enemies to ? ;)), geto being an ASS, reader taking it like a CHAMP, deffo no lovin' in this one (or the next few chapters most likely), introductions to the story premise, rusty writing and art lol, may be some inconsistencies in story compared to canon timeline

Warnings: depictions of violence, s*icide and d*ath, Geto's choice of words when describing non-sorcerers (monkey)

MDNI

The trickle of blood from the gripping of your palms makes this a reality - this was not a dream, rather a nightmare that you are unfortunate enough to call reality. The flesh of your inner cheek between your teeth keeps you somewhat grounded as you observe your surroundings. Thumping rings in your ears as you stand motionless on the exterior steps of his territory.

It appears that you have arrived at the gates of Hell.

Eyes trail you, as you trail them back, head unmoving as you do so. Keep your cool. They’re watching you - the followers - and intensely at that. You're sure you heard a snicker too. Fantastic. 

You avert your eyes back to what's in front of you as you stiffly take the stairs up, ignoring the glares of others. A cobbled pathway appears that leads to his chambers, or rather, your eventual prison.

Breathe. 

It could be worse - well actually this is pretty terrible -  but reminding yourself of that may have a placebo effect, which you could use to calm yourself down right now.

You were cursed, but not in the literal sense (unfortunately.  At least that would have been a more sane reason to be here than what you’re really here for). It's a sick joke  - the first non-sorcerer to be born in your family of sorcerers, and you’re the one to appease him of all people? Yeah, this is terrible. The placebo effect isn’t working.

You have been assigned to that man for protection, so long as he receives funding from your family. It’s a liability that you are unable to use sorcery, thus to protect the family from potential dangers or threats, you stand in this disastrous position. They call it an agreement for the sake of your safety, you call it a public execution. You almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of the situation, but you hold out on losing your sanity for a while longer - clutching onto whatever shred of dignity you have left.

It's not even the fear of him that has you wavering. It's the uncertainty of what is to come, the unknown. It’s frightening to the point you have to force a cough out to gain control of the trembling. You’re having to prove yourself more than you ever have by walking into this territory and surviving. You’re used to it - being tossed aside, looked down upon. ‘No cursed energy, and you cannot even see them so what use is there for you?’ It's been a consistent reminder etched into your life. Regardless of the obvious restrictions, you continued to fight and train. But it was never enough, and it never will be. To them, and most certainly to him, you are worthless.

Breathe. 

The aroma of bamboo on the sliding door brings you back to reality as you lean on it, palm sweatily resting on the latch. This is it. You squint your eyes shut, pull the door aside, and walk inside, and you can feel it: his aura. It is suffocating, like a thick sludge clogging your airflow and poisoning you in the process. It accelerates your flight response, but you know better: running was never an option. You open your eyes and focus on the floor before tentatively bringing your head up, only to be locked in his sight. Suguru Geto, one of the most feared curse users, is standing in the same room as you.

Passing comments throughout the years provided some insight into the monster in front of you; growing up in a sorcerer household exposed you to the world of curses in a way that few others of your kind had. You knew two things for certain: his cursed technique and his unfathomable hatred for non-sorcerers. It was not unusual to hear about his crimes, which instilled fear throughout Japan. He was cold, calculated, and meticulous with his leadership. Despite this, he was strong, arguably one of the strongest, and having his insurance would ensure your family's protection  - you, however, disagree greatly to that perspective.

His gaze penetrates your soul; it's terrifying how unclear his expression is as you stare back silently. He talks after what seems like a lifetime, with a monotone and direct tone.

“I assume you’re the one that has asked for protection?” You swallow dryly, before responding.

“Not myself personally, but my family, yes.” You try to hide your disdain towards the situation, but he clocks the tension behind your words. The corner of his mouth lifts up slightly in what appears to be a smirk.

“Oh? You don't think you need protecting?” He sounds somewhat amused at your response. Great.

You pause before responding honestly “...I don’t.” The smirk from his lips widens and your stomach drops to the floor.

“How pitiful. Not only are you a mere monkey in comparison to us, but a delusional one too. You should know better coming from a family of sorcerers.” He tuts at you before shifting his stance by placing his thumb and index finger under his chin. “Tell me, why has your family come crawling to me for protection if you are so sure of yourself? Entertain me.”

You clench your fists slightly, not wavering your gaze towards him as you ignore his mocking tone. “I have my ways of fighting despite my limitations. They don’t believe me, which is why I’m here. It shouldn’t be their responsibility to protect me, I don’t want to be a burden-”

 

“And yet here you stand in my territory, abiding by your family's wishes. Delusional and spineless too? What redeeming qualities you have” he interjects sharply, huffing out a laugh before sighing “I suppose it's to be expected from your kind.” Your eye twitches in response to his comment, and he adjusts position again. He takes a seat on the tatami flooring, reclining on his side, holding his head up with one hand while pointing his finger at you with the other,  closing his eyes. He speaks almost as if he were bored:

"If you didn't want to be a burden, you should have offed yourself instead of agreeing to this, no? At the very least, you'd have done something to make the world a little better."

His statement clearly reveals the shock on your face. He's not entirely wrong; you've considered doing that more than you'd want to admit. Regardless, you maintain your composure and answer harshly, standing up to your own beliefs and shrugging off any seeds of doubt.

"I want to survive. I want to show that I am capable of holding my own in this disgusting world.”

He looks at you calmly before smiling and opening one eye, pointing to the sky. "Well, if you're so sure that's what you want to do-" His aura shifts to something more sinister "-then survive."

The clap of force against your face and the spring air rushing into your nostrils makes you aware that you've been attacked, your body thrown outdoors into the courtyard. You fall to a shaky landing, still reeling from the event. The warm trickle of blood from your nostril puts things in perspective: Geto has unleashed a cursed spirit for you to combat. That fucker - you should have known something like this would happen.

You let the blood flow down past your lips and drop off your chin while you concentrate. You quickly reach behind you for your weapon, which is securely connected to your back. A four-part staff releases with a crack, chains clattering and angled blades on the ends gleaming in the sun. You swing them about, producing momentum and, at the same time, a barrier between yourself and the invisible force as you plot your fighting strategy. At this stage, you're relying on your senses and predictions of its strikes. You don’t even know what grade this entity is.

“If you die that’s not a problem, I have my ways of finding alternative funds.” Geto casually states as he walks out of his chambers through the hole formed by the propelled attack, arms placed  in his sleeves. Some followers gather, clearly alerted by the commotion.

Now is not the time to concentrate on him, you reason as you close your eyes and focus on your senses. You sense it approaching from your right side and whip your beams towards the aura, hearing a solid smack - a decent hit. You turn about and aim for another hit with greater strength, now knowing where it is - it lands again, pushing the aura further away from yourself. If you can maintain this dynamic, you may have the advantage in the fight.

The fight continues in a similar manner, with you sensing the location of the curse and smacking it with your staff. It works initially, but after your last strike, it begins to learn your tactics and responds by redirecting your spears to the side, then landing a direct hit to the stomach, pushing you backwards once more. You stumble to the ground and wince at your injury, coughing up blood, before steadily returning to your combat posture. You slap your spears together, and they form a pole, holding it out in front of you in preparation for their next attack. Despite this, you were unprepared for what was to occur.

An abrupt shift in the fight throws you off-guard. A little girl runs into the battle towards you, completely unaware of the danger, while another girl of similar age gleefully chases her. They rapidly discover they've entered a dangerous zone and freeze behind you, but it's too late to back out. You hear the shrill cries of the followers, and you react.

The cursed spirit hits again, but this time you take a defensive stance, forcing the curse against your weapon. You're grunting from the strain of attempting to keep the spirit at away with your brute power. You shout, temporarily increasing the strength in your arms as you push the monster away from yourself and the children behind you. Once you believe there is enough distance between them and the threat, you immediately reach out to detour the girls away from the area, only to be confronted by Geto. He looms over you, standing between the children and you. He firmly grips your outstretched arm, squeezing your wrist tightly, and looks down at you with underlying rage in his cold, purple irises.

"Don't touch them" His voice is tinged with venom as he continues to look you down, feeling like prey caught in the predator's snare. You freeze in place, and then realise that the curse's aura has vanished; he must have released it. He throws your wrist to the side and turns his back on you, resting his hands on the girls' heads. The blonde girl is sniffling, and the other, brunette, is staring at you with an unreadable expression.

He speaks over your shoulder in a harsh tone, "Manami will accompany you to your chambers. Leave, now.” Before you realise, a lady appears beside you and it startles you. She holds a tablet in hand, and carries an intense blue gaze focused in your direction. She takes one look at you, noticing the twitch in her eye, before turning around and walking away. You assume to follow her, so you carefully disengage your weapon and walk (or rather limp) behind her. You look over your shoulder towards Geto as you leave the vicinity.

"Laure, take the girls to their rooms," he says unusually calmly. A male figure appears next to Geto, with blonde hair and an intense physique. He effortlessly picks up the girls and exits the area in another direction, nodding.

"Everyone else, please stay” He smiles. “It appears that some of you need a reminder on what happens when rules are broken.” You turn a bend, losing sight of the courtyard. All you hear in the coming moments is the spine-chilling screams from that direction, alongside the sensation of multiple monstrous auras, which makes your blood run cold. You turn to face Manami's back as you follow her towards your chambers, silently coming to terms with the reality that your life is in the hands of Suguru Geto from this point forth.

Breathe.

Thanks for the read guys <3 I will draw out readers weapon and some other scenes from this part alongside finishing off the second part - stay tuned and much love

[forbidding-souda]

Hello! @tinieprince here! I just reblogged two of your headcanon posts about korekiyo with a partner who age regresses and I absolutely adore them!! I was wondering if you’d be willing to share some other thoughts on that? He’s just so comforting and I think he’d be the perfect fit for someone who’s in littlespace! He’s the number one person to go to for bedtime stories I can sense it! (I have honestly fallen asleep listening to a compilaton of him talking because wow he has the most soothing voice)

Shinguuji Korekiyo with a S/O in little space

i'm gonna combine a little bit of the stuff I already talked about with new things bc those fics were from like 4 years ago but they're still fire so here you go darling @tinieprince

-Mod Souda

❤ Obvious one first: gifts!

❤ Gifts from all over. His home is filled with artifacts and yours will be, too. You get toys from multiple cultures, especially baby dolls and things along that sort. He absolutely loves getting shit for you, he thinks about you all the time when he's gone. He will never stop spoiling you even if you ask him to stop. He will never stop. EVER!

❤ ^ And you get homemade blankets from many countries.

❤ He probably already knows what little space is / recognized it before you had to tell him.

❤ ^ And he isn't unnerved by it at all. Of course he's not. He knows everything about humanity, so he knows why people go into little space too.

❤ He loves it when he's reading in bed and you'll curl up next to him. Or even better, when you beg for attention. He'll happily put his book down and hold you into his arms.

❤ Oooooo imagine he has deer teeth rattles and things like that. And lullabies in many languages. I love him srry

❤ He will kiss your forehead for all of eternity.

❤ ^ Even if it's just through the zipper.

❤ His voice is soft and comforting, aaaaaa imagine him holding you in his lap and singing to you.

❤ He doesn't get annoyed by kid shows at all. And if you like coloring books be ready for him to lock in and color alongside you.

❤ ^ "Little one" as a pet name. "How marvelous that looks, little one."

❤ He'll always be okay with putting some work aside to be able to spend time with you. He loves working, but he loves you more. And his work won't get sad or disheartened if he's away from it for too long.

❤ If you aren't feeling good physically, as in sneezing or coughing or having a sore throat, he does not gaf he'll still be all up in your space cooing and you and comforting you. He will rock you in his lap if you let him.

❤ Imagine he does the catepillar thing where he wraps an entire blanket around you and folds it under but then he just goes "this is what they do to corpses before they bury them" and you're like damn LMFAO.

❤ Omfg you should a pacifier that matches the color of his mask.

❤ He's good at playing pretend or playing with dolls. Will probably get one of those big doll houses and then say it's for you (he wanted it too). Normal barbies mixed with scary homemade dolls.

❤ Will dress you and bathe you depending on your regression age.

❤ More than happy to feed you too.

❤ If you babble then he's going to respond as if he understands. "Fascinating, my love." / "Oh really? And what shall we do about it?" / "Beautiful, oh how beautiful you are."

❤ Will sing you songs from his childhood. You get to learn so much about his younger years from the stories he will tell.

❤ His bedtime stories are sometimes crazy as fuck tho ngl when he's not reading out of a book he's gonna loredrop about the Song Dynasty.

❤ "Go to sleep, little one. Let me tell you about the london beer flood."

❤ Any woman that makes fun of you is a goner sorrryyy had to add this one.

[tulip-room]

ch. 1 rolling valleys || masterlist || next chapter || wc: 7.6k || all hq works ||

She didn’t think she would end up here, on a sunny day holding a box with the words ‘his’ drawn on in a dying marker. Her hand tentatively reaches up and raps against the door with quick but loud knocks. Her teeth pull her lip between them and bite gently as they roll the flesh around. She can feel her heartbeat the closer the footsteps behind the door get to where she is. How did it get like this? When was she scared to visit this house? 

One that used to be her home. The door is the same, same peeling paint around the doorknob and the hinges. Same tilted window with the stickers on it to make it appear like stained glass on the inside. The door opens and a quick breath of air comes into her lungs, “oh, are we doing that today?” is all he says as he leans against the doorframe. 

“Yes,” the words escape her mouth and for some reason her eyes begin to sting. “Yes, we are doing this today, I don’t want to see these things anymore.” She hears the scoff before her eyes register the look on his face. Hurt. He doesn’t get to feel hurt. Not when this was all because of him anyway. 

“Didn’t realize my stuff was clouding up your apartment anyway. It is small though so I guess you needed space.” The jab doesn’t go unmissed. Yes, it’s a small apartment but it’s more than enough for herself and a guest. Not everyone has the salary of a pro-athlete and can afford their own home before the age of 22.  

“I did. I’m moving and didn’t want to take it with me.” She doesn’t miss the way his eyebrows furrow slightly and his body leans back as if jolted by electricity; within a moment all is back to his normal expression. 

“Moving?” He can’t seem to help himself once he starts, he knows he should bite his tongue to make sure he doesn’t regret anything more. “Too expensive to live in the city?” He prods with a laugh knowing it will hurt, but part of him wants it to. Wants it to hurt the way that he is.

“I don’t need reminders of you.” Her voice holds anger as she gets louder than before. The box gets shoved towards him. “Here-” her voice breaks slightly and she wants to hide herself away but tries to keep her brave face.

“What’s so bad about remembering me?” He scoffs and pushes the box back towards her as he takes a step away.

“Everything,” she sighs and sets the box down. “Look I’ll just leave-”

“No. You don’t get to just leave again.” There’s an anger in his voice that sounds more serious than before.

“I’m tired, Atsumu. I want to go home, I want to finish packing and I want to go to my new home.” She remarks as the energy is zapped from her voice.

“Please. Just so I can gather your things if you’re really going to leave.” He steps aside and despite herself and every voice in her head telling her how bad of an idea this is, she steps over the threshold and into the house that once felt like home. She sits on the couch riddled with lint and the throw pillow she remembers gifting him for Christmas their first year together. “Do you want a water or anything?” He sets his box down on the kitchen island. Her eyes lock onto the small divot in the wall from their last fight.

“No, I’m okay.” He walks away and being in the house is too much. Her memories assault her, good and bad. Her hands find solace in playing with the strings on the throw pillow. 

“You got me a pillow?” There’s an obvious hint of confusion in his voice as he looks at the brown pillow.

“I got us a pillow. Since I’m over here a lot more and your couch is…lackluster in the pillow department.” A laugh tumbles from her lips and then her head gets hit softly with a pillow. “Oh it is so on.” She rushes to get up from the couch but arms wrap around her and pull her back to his lap. 

“Where are you going sweetcheeks?” He smiles as his head nuzzles into her neck and he leaves a kiss there. 

“Well, you obviously declared a pillow fight.”

“Did I? I don’t remember doing such a thing.” He hits her on the head again with the pillow and she turns her face to look at him. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“You just did it again!” 

Not everything about the relationship was awful. It’s just hard to look onto the past without getting sad. A barely there smile is on her face as Atsumu comes back. The box in hand. It’s messy and looks thrown together last minute, it feels like the pinnacle of their relationship. She can see that the clothes in the box were haphazardly thrown into it and the book is getting all bent from its position. The box doesn’t have a label and isn’t big enough to hold everything as the top remains open. “You’re crying.”

Since when did you care when I cry? The words almost slip past her lips but she composes herself. Her hand goes up to where she can feel the tear rolling over the hills of her face. Her eyes sting and her throat begins to close up, she clears it and stands up wiping imaginary dust from her pants. She wants to tell him vile things. Wants to yell at him again. But she knows that won’t do any good, so she takes the box from his arms and thanks him for his time before she makes her way toward the door. 

“Will you tell me why you were crying?” He almost pleads with her. “I don’t want you to leave my house crying again-” she almost complies, can feel words bubbling beneath the surface. “Don’t want the paparazzi to see and get the wrong message.” And there it is. What makes Atsumu, well, Atsumu. He will always push away feelings with poorly timed jokes and attitude. 

“If only– nope. I’m better than that.” She shuts her eyes and her face scrunches up as she takes a deep breath to attempt to calm herself down. “It’s always the same with you isn’t it. Too insecure to let everyone know that you can feel things.”

“Better than spewing my feelings everywhere like a bad sickness.” The walls feel as though they’re closing in on her. She can feel the hate in them and realizes why this house no longer felt like home. It’s too filled with hate, filled with words that never passed his lips in her company. Words only the wallpaper heard and held on to.

“You keep talking to the walls, Atsumu. I hope they keep better company than you.”

“Wait- that’s not what I–” He lifts his hand and for a brief moment she can feel herself flinch. Can feel her bones move and shrink in on themselves to make her smaller, to hide her away. “Gods, I wasn’t going to hit you. I’ve never hit you, why would I start now.”

“Your words have stung sharper than any hits I’ve taken,” her filter has disappeared. She can’t hold back the words anymore now that she doesn’t have the energy to keep them hidden in her mind. “You can’t do this Atsumu, you can’t say things you decide you don’t mean when you realize they hurt people and then apologize and act like everything is perfectly fine. Hell, you don’t even properly apologize Atsumu, you brush the problem off with gifts and hope I forget about it.”

“I tried my best, I tried my best for you. It’s not my fault I wasn’t good enough,” he shakes his head and furrows his brows. 

“It wasn’t that you weren’t good enough. Are you listening to the words I’m saying Atsumu?”

“I hate when you treat me like a child,” he mumbles under his breath but makes sure she can hear it.

“Well then don’t act like one.” She can feel the anger growing as her voice teeters on the edge of a shout.

“Maybe I wouldn’t act like a child if you didn’t treat me like one,” it’s a weak argument and he knows it as soon as it passes his lips but his mind is blinded with rage. He’s focused on proving himself right, everyone else be damned. 

“This is why we didn’t work out. You’re too hot headed and I’m too–”

“Our relationship didn’t work out because you asked too much of me without giving me anything in return Y/N.” 

“That’s not true and you know it.” She points her finger at him and they grow closer to each other. 

“Oh really.” He takes another step forward and crosses his arms as he looks down at her. 

“Tell me when this happened Atsumu,” she challenges and doesn’t back down as she steps closer to him. They are now pressed against each other; the thing keeping them apart is the box of her belongings; the room feels much smaller than it had moments prior.

“You were constantly nagging at me to talk to you but whenever you felt hurt you refused to talk to me. You went to your little friends to tell them what was happening instead of talking to me about it. Always wanting to feel like you’re right even when you’re not and instead of admitting it you gaslight people into thinking you were right.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have had to go to my friends to tell them what was wrong if you listened when I told you what was wrong.” She spits the words out like venom.

“Maybe I would have listened if you weren’t always going on about random nonsense. No one cares. No one cares about you or your feelings. You’ve always been impossible. I don’t know how I ever fell in love with you.”

“I’m not sure you did, Atsumu.” The statement brings a somberness that the words moments before didn’t hold. 

“No, you…” he sucks in air through his teeth. “You don’t get to tell me how I felt Y/N. You don’t get to come to my home and insult me. I loved you. I loved you so much I felt like I was burning inside, you were burning me. You with your fake promises and words, you were the one who pulled away from me. I could feel it in every sigh you took, in every step we walked when the distance was too far for my hand to brush against yours. I loved you.”

“I can tell you my perceptions of your feelings. I can tell you how it felt to not be loved by you. Burning you? That’s rich. Considering everything you touch seems to turn to cinder and ash. You are the fire Atsumu, you can keep people warm but you destroy them. I left because of you. You–”

“I loved you. I lov–”

“Stop this game. Stop it Atsumu, I can’t do this today.” Her eyes begin to sting again and her throat feels much tighter than before. The moths in her stomach fly around and she feels like she could throw up. 

“You’re the one who came here,” he mentions bitterly.

“I might be the one who came here but you left long before I did.”

“I was here. In what was going to be our home, I was here waiting for you.” She picks her head up as the hot tears roll over her cheeks and she can feel the salty taste in her mouth as she opens it.

“Waiting for me? Waiting for me?” She repeats the words twice before a wet laugh comes out of her and she throws her head back. “Atsumu, you have never waited for anyone in your life.”

“I waited for you. I slept in the same bed as you for months tossing and turning as the space between us grew bigger and before I knew it you were gone.”

“And how did that happen?” 

“Because you pulled away.”

“Because you pushed me away. I only left because I was pushed. I always loved you more than you loved me. You were too keen to hurt people and say it was love.” He’s silent now, can feel his words die on his tongue. The rage is still boiling under the surface, not hidden but not as active as it was before. He feels like he was doused with water, he feels like he should be drowning. Like he is drowning. The anger doesn’t fizzle out, merely makes bubbles under the water. 

“I did love you.” It’s the same words he’s repeated over and over again tonight. 

“As I remember, that's not what you said when I left.” He can hardly remember what he said when she had packed up her things and left his home. He remembers that one moment she was here and the next she was gone. 

“I loved you,” he stays with his conviction. “You were the one who left for no good reason.”

“That’s not how I remember it.” 

There wasn’t a good reason for the fight, not a big one at least. An inciting incident, Atsumu had forgotten a date. “Are you almost…” her smile falls and the words fall from her mouth as she witnesses him sit in his chair with a soda in hand and a game on the TV. The answer to her question was no. He was not almost ready. 

He turns his head and looks at her outfit before he hears a whistle on the TV and his attention is promptly brought back to it. “You look nice, going somewhere?”

“Apparently not.” 

“What do you– oh come on ref. That was a terrible call! It was inside the lines and you know it.” He scoffs and takes a sip of his soda before remembering that he was talking to her. “What do you mean ‘not anymore’?” 

“You don’t remember?” She taps her jacket in her hand and draws her lips into a thin line. 

“Remember what?” She moves to stand in front of the TV and asks the question again.

“You don’t remember our plans today?” He rolls his eyes and shuts the TV off as she blocks his view. 

“We didn’t have plans today.”

“Look at your calendar,” she says almost defeated.

“Oh come on, you know I don’t check that stupid thing.”

“You were the one who put it there. Said you didn’t want to forget because you had a busy week.” He reaches over to the table to grab his phone and scrolls to the calendar app. He sighs when he looks at what the appointment was. A date. He had planned a date. And it was already fifteen minutes past the time he was supposed to get ready. He hadn’t heard his reminder go off to tell him to get ready.

He didn’t remember it going off. She had heard it go off though, she had heard it ring from the bedroom as she was doing her makeup. Her hopes were crushed when she heard the TV continue to play and he didn’t come into the room and kiss her, smudging her lipstick on his face in the process. 

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“This isn’t how I want to be loved Atsumu.” That gets him to stand up, he makes his way over to her. Anger evident in every step he takes, he puts his hand on her shoulder in an attempt of a calm motion but she swipes it off. “Please, don’t touch me right now.”

“You’re being overdramatic,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Am I or do you just not care about me anymore.”

“I care about you, what the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t feel like you care about me Atsumu, you’re never home,” she crosses her arms.

“I have to travel because of volleyball, you know this.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. You never listen to me.”

“Then what am I doing right now?”

“Yelling. You’re not listening to me and you never have. You never talk about your feelings, you make me feel so small and unloved.”

“Well it’s not my fault you’re impossible to love.” It’s the final straw, they both know it. His hands are clenched in his hair and there’s a nasty sneer on his face as he spits the words at her. 

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try,” her voice trembles over the words but it’s clear that she tries to cover it with a cough. Her head finally moves away from him, no longer able to look into his honeyed eyes. The ones she loved so dearly, what drew her to him in the first place. He felt so warm, instead he burned too hot and now all she feels is cold.

“Y/N, that’s not what I–”

“Just stop while you’re ahead, Atsumu.” He feels frozen in place as he watches tears pour from her eyes as she heads towards the bedroom. He’s not sure what he should do, if he should stop her or help her or, or, or, he feels stuck. In a loop of ‘or’ a multiple choice quiz without a correct answer. When he blinks again she has a bag packed and is leaving the room.

“Don’t leave,” he pleads and reaches out for her. She can’t bring herself to look at him. She knows if she takes one look at those eyes that her walls will crumble and she might be convinced to stay. 

“I’m tired of staying for someone who is never here.”

“I’m here, I’m here now. I’ll listen. I’ll give you anything you want, I’ll take you to that restaurant that you’ve been dying to go to.”

“You’re not here Atsumu, and there you go again…if you had listened to me in the first place maybe things wouldn’t have gotten as twisted as they did. You can’t just throw money at all of your problems and hope they go away, you can’t treat me like a scandal that’s going to show up in the news tomorrow.” She opens the door and doesn't give him a second thought when she closes it behind her. 

It’s like a weight is lifted off of her shoulders, a cold chill that is thawing. She can’t look back because it hurts too much. Can’t look back because he’s there and she needs to move forward.

“You still don’t listen, you’re just the same boy you were when I left four months ago.”

“You’re still the same coward that ran away instead of fixing our problems.”

“If I’m a coward I shiver to think what that makes you.” She picks up the box, unsure of when she dropped it in the first place and opens the door. “For the next girl that you decide you need, try listening to her instead of hoping everything is fine because you bought her something.” In an all too familiar way she closes the door and lets her back rest against it for a moment. She has no reason to come back to this house, it feels more empty than it does cold. She’ll think of the throw pillow and the crooked window and of the man inside that she once loved. She’ll remember the good times along with the bad, but she won’t be coming back here again. 

She puts the box in her car along with her other ones and with one last look at the house as she pulls out she leaves. A breath escapes her as the house grows smaller the farther away she gets from it. It’s her last day in the city, she won’t have to think of it ever again. She’ll have her head in the clouds where he won’t be able to reach her anymore, where every uneven window doesn’t remind her of him and where she doesn’t have to see his face in every magazine, billboard, and fruit stand. She can be free of him.

She doesn’t turn the navigation on until she passes the town limit. She knows all of the curves and roads of the city. Remembers the corner street where she kissed him for the first time. 

Standing on the corner of the street she waited for the light to turn to red so she could walk. Only a few blocks and she could get home to him. Over her headphones she couldn’t hear the calls of her name, when arms wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her headphone out she jumped before the voice reached her. “Hi sweetcheeks,” she relaxes into the arms and turns to face him.

“And what are you doing here? Don’t you have practice?” She can’t hide the palpable excitement in her voice.

“Not today, I thought I would spend the day with you.” She doesn’t fully believe the sentence but hums. “Don’t believe me?” 

“No, you’re a serial liar.” 

“You wound me,” he puts his hand on his chest and makes a faux hurt expression. 

“Oh shut up,” the light turns red and allows for pedestrians to cross and she takes a step forward. He holds her hand to stop her from stepping forward more. “Atsumu, wha—“ 

“One second.” He leans down and places a swift kiss on her lips before he pulls her along. “Move your legs, let’s go home.” 

She remembers the magazines the next day had it plastered all over the front cover. Her lips quirk up slightly at the thought as she remembers his reaction. She covers her mouth as a small laugh escapes her lips. He had sounded so worried. So worried about her safety from the girls who took it too far, he had worried himself sick. 

All of the streets are filled with memories. They’re practically the foundation of the roads, paving the sidewalks, the bricks and glass of the buildings. He’s in everything this city has touched. Her shoulders finally fall from the tensed position they had found themselves in when her car passes the sign that says where the town limit is. 

She eagerly looks around at the scenery as she drives further into the countryside. Nothing reminds her of him. Everything is fresh and new. The air feels different. Feels lighter, freer. No more billboards with his face on them, or tilted windows, or felt ridden couches. She rolls down the window and lets the air hit her face. The wind stings as it hits her face, much colder out than it should be for her to roll down the window. But she feels as though she can breathe for the first time in four months. Hell, maybe the first time in the past year. The stinging reminds her that she’s still alive.

It takes her an hour to get to the location. It’s nothing too crazy, a simple townhouse. None of the windows are tilted or hold glass stickers to make it look like stained glass. The door is freshly painted, the paint holding firm against the hinges and doorknob. She turns the key into the lock and a bright smile creeps onto her face at the click it makes. She can’t help the sound of delight that escapes her mouth as she pushes the door open, it opens easily and doesn’t catch on the floor. 

“Home sweet home. My home.” She spins in a circle with a laugh coming from her mouth. After a few rotations she feels her head pound and stops before going to the car to gather the boxes. Anything that reminded her of him too much was thrown out. The only box that stays in the car is the only non-labeled box. 

The cupboards are new. Everything is new. The walls don’t hold anger or fear. Her pillows don’t hold tears of many nights of crying herself to sleep, the kitchen island doesn’t have a divot from a thrown plate. Her couch isn’t covered in lint, her throw pillows have designs and her posters are hanging around everywhere. She feels like a kid again. She doesn’t feel the weight of anxiety over the other shoe dropping. Doesn’t think about what could go wrong. For the first time in a long time, her brain is quiet. She focuses on unpacking and breaking down boxes and she does so with a wide smile on her face. 

— —- —- — —- —

The beeping of her alarm stirs her from her peaceful slumber, she turns over and picks the device up with a groan. Her eyes open and she remembers that she’s in her house and not her little apartment. She stops the alarm and rolls over onto her back. “It wasn’t a dream. This is really mine.” There’s a content smile on her face as she stares at the ceiling, her feet kick and she sits up. 

There’s an ache in her back and she recoils a little bit and puts her hands where it hurts to stretch. “Same back pain though.” She shakes her head and moves from the bed over to her closet before realizing that most of her interview clothes are still packed up. She doesn’t need to dress too fancy, it’s a position as a farm hand. They must really need help if she was considered for an interview. 

“It will be good for you, maybe it will help with your anger issues.” She tucks her button up into her slacks and after packing her lunch walks out the door. It’s not a long car ride only five minutes down the road. There’s a quaint house sitting at the top of the hill, it's painted blue with a white roof and shutters. The path is gravel and she’s a little worried about a rock flying up and hitting her windshield. 

As she gets closer she can see a man standing outside. He has a set of overalls on, they have splotches of dirt and mud caked around the hems of the legs. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up past his elbows and his arms are crossed over his chest. His face holds a calm, neutral expression. She steps out of the car and he gives her a small nod, she gives him a smile in return as she draws closer to him. 

“Are you Kita?” He nods and holds out his hand after taking his dirty work glove off. She reaches her own hand out, she notices that there are many calluses on his hands and that they’re rough from work.

“You must be L/N Y/N.” She nods with a smile and clasps her hands in front of her. “Will you tell me what position you’re here for, just so we’re both on the same page.”

“The ad said farm hand, I’m not entirely sure what that all entails but I’m eager to help.” 

“Okay, why don’t we find some gloves and overalls for you.”

“Did I get the job…?” She furrows her brows and tilts her head a little to the side.

“This is your interview.” She doesn’t know whether she enjoys how blunt and point blank he is or if it will be a nuisance. She supposes for this it was a good thing. He turns and starts walking a little past the blue house where a rickety looking shed lies. The wood on the sides are chipped and the door is ragged at the bottom. He opens the shed and hands her a pair of gloves. “These should fit,” he says as he hands over a pair of overalls. She nods and quickly puts them on over her other clothes. 

“So, what are—“

“We’ll st— sorry. Please, ask questions.” Kita quickly apologizes for cutting her off and motions for her to go on.

“Oh, thank you.” She clears her throat and takes a moment to think. “What exactly are the responsibilities of this position?” 

“It depends on the day. Nothing I wouldn’t do myself, so don’t be worried about having to do a job just because I don’t want to do it.” 

“Okay, well, where are we starting today?” 

“We need to check if the strawberries are done, then we wash and package them after we pick them. Some of the batches will be turned into jam. Have you ever made jam before?” He leads her towards the strawberry patch. “The only real way to tell is the taste.”

Just as she’s beginning to look around for what looks like a ripe strawberry he’s pointing one out and plucking it. “This one looks ready, see if it tastes ready.” He holds the berry out and when she turns her head her brows furrow and she gives him a look of confusion. “For you to taste.” Oh. It feels like her body shuts down, Kita pushes the berry against her lips, it tinges the skin a light shade of red and makes the surface shiny. Hesitantly she opens her mouth and takes a small bite. He tosses the rest of the berry into his own mouth with a hum. “Does it seem ripe to you?” 

Her skin feels too warm and her brain feels like it should have some sort of thought in it but the words get caught on the way out. She opens her mouth and closes it a few times, when he looks at her with confusion she just nods her head. “Yeah, yeah–” she clears her throat– “seems ripe to me.” 

“This row should be good to start picking then, sorry it’s a bit of a walk back to the house.” 

“It’s fine, it’s…nice out here.”

“Better than the hustle and bustle of the city?” The two of them fall into quiet conversation as they fill their baskets. She’s surprised as to how…comfortable it is– talking with him. The silence doesn’t cause her skin to crawl, doesn’t make her want words to tumble out of her mouth to fill the gaps. The silence is peaceful, a gentle breeze pushing pinwheels to spin. The walk back to the house isn’t as bad as he had said it would be, they don’t rush or take too long. It’s a comfortable stride, two baskets in their hands and content smiles on their faces.

The sorting takes them an hour as she has to stop and check with Kita when she’s not entirely sure whether to put a berry in the jam pile or the boxed pile. “I’m assuming we’re washing them first?” He nods and hands her the bowl they designated for ‘jam berries’ and starts to leave the kitchen.

“I’m getting the canning jars, just wash them off and I’ll be back with the ingredients.” He points down a hall and once he gets an approving nod from her that she doesn’t need help leaves the kitchen. When he returns the strawberries are on the island counter and he has a bag of sugar and a bowl of lemons in one arm and four canning jars in the other. “What we’re gonna do is mash those strawberries up, you can use a wooden spoon just fine.” He motions his head behind her and places the ingredients and jars on the counter.

She opens a few drawers before she finds the spoon and hands it to Kita but he shakes his head and pushes it back towards her. “Wash our hands and then we can mash them, why don’t you mash them and I’ll find a saucepan that’s big enough.” He walks behind her to open the oven, after deliberating for a few moments he finally decides on one he deems fit and sets it on top of the stove. She washes her hands and then starts mashing the berries with a spoon. “I sell these every two weeks during strawberry season at the local farmer’s market we have.”

“There’s a farmer’s market?”

“Yeah, it’s really nice, it’s happening this Friday if you want to go. It’s Friday, Saturday, Sunday so I’ll be gathering strawberries and making jam a majority of the week. Sorry it isn’t too exciting.”

“I’ll take it, I got the job,” she jokes and bumps him with her hip. He rolls his eyes and begins measuring out the sugar. “I would love to go, do you have your booth open the whole weekend?”

“Only Saturdays,” he answers and pulls a knife off of the holder on the wall to cut the lemons. “I like to look at the other stalls on Friday and then Sunday is making up for the work I missed Friday and Saturday. Shouldn’t be that bad now that I have some help.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she stirs the mixture around in the bowl. “Are these mashed enough?”

“Yeah, good timing. I just finished measuring everything. All we do now is put all of these into the pot and stir until the sugar is dissolved. Then, we wait for it to boil and put it in jars after a quick test. You just take a small spoonful and put it on a frozen plate, if it starts to gel after a few minutes then it’s ready.”

“This isn’t so bad, I thought this would be a lot worse.”

“Harvesting isn’t the best, it’s definitely tedious but I have good company.”

 “It seems I have good company too.”

When they finish canning the row of strawberries and bagging the rest the sun is setting past the horizon. Kita walks her to her car, a hand hovering over the small of her back as he walks beside her. For a brief moment the hand touches her back when she stops walking. He turns his own head to see what she’s looking at, “the sun,” she says. “I’m not used to being able to see it set, don’t usually get off work early enough to see it.” 

“Do you live around here?” She nods and points down the road.

“Just about five minutes that way.”

“Go to your backyard tonight. Put out a blanket and have a snack, I’ll take it you’ve never seen the stars without light pollution.” She shakes her head, still lost in thought as the sun disappears and the sky slowly turns to a gradient of blue. “It’s surreal to see for the first time. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“I’ll let you know, see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, more canning and making products for the farmers market. We should be good on jam, well for the market, we can make more afterwards. So I just need to make some pies, put rice in bags, and then check to see if the peach trees are doing well.”

“That seems like a packed day.”

“It’s just routine, see you around six?”

“I thought farm work started earlier…”

“It does, I don’t need you here until six though. I should be gathering the rice or close to finished by the time you get here.”

“I can get here earlier you know.”

“It’s your first real day, sleep in a little bit. We’ll start regular hours next week.” She hums but gets in her car, he holds the door open for her and leans down. His hands resting on top for support as he bends down. “You moved from the city, it’ll take you a bit to get used to all this.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.” He stands up and closes her car door, she doesn’t see him start back inside until she gets out of the driveway and back down the hill. In the short ride back to her own home she can’t get the white haired farmer out of her mind. How warm his hand has felt on her back— a level of comfort she has not felt in years. 

 She’s hit with the fact that she left everything behind when she clicks open the lock of her home. This is real, she forgot all about her friends, all of the people she loved. Her hands hesitate as she touches the cold doorknob. Should she care more…? Those people were once her whole life, the happiness she felt in the world. An argument could be had for him as well if that was the case, he was once her happiness. He had taken it and tied it around her like a noose, making her choke on the love she once cherished. 

All thoughts disappear when her foot goes over the threshold, like fanning away at bits of dust and watching them dissipate. She shouldn’t think like that, Atsumu was no longer a part of her life. Hadn’t been for almost a year, they may have only been broken up for four months ago but he had left the relationship far earlier. 

She needs to unpack her boxes, she can feel them collecting dust even as they haven’t sat for very long. Her heart beats faster as her feet won’t move from the doorway, like they’re glued to the wooden panels, she slides down the door and sits on the ground. Her lungs feel like they’re closing in and her throat grows scratchy as her eyes sting. There must be something wrong with her, she went from happy to thinking about her boxes. She can’t seriously be crying over boxes can she? “That’s pathetic, even for you.”

There’s a buzz from her phone at that moment that stirs her from her thoughts. She can see the preview, see that it’s from Kita but she can’t find the energy to respond. She focuses on the words he says, anything to make her forget about the boxes that sit in the hall. Anything to stop her train of thought from continuing down the path it was starting to. 

– You did well today, thank you for being such a big help with the jam and harvesting. For Friday – If you are still wanting to go with me – I will need your address so I can pick you up. I like to arrive around 12, I would like to pick you up around 11 as it takes a little longer to get to the market and find parking. See you tomorrow at 6, thank you again for helping. - Kita

The words soothe her in a way she can’t explain. She wipes the tears away from her eyes and takes a deep breath. The boxes can wait, it’s not a life or death situation that needs to be resolved right away. It’s a task that she can wait to do. She’s probably just hungry, she tries to reason with herself. That’s the only reason for her outburst, just hunger and anxiety about being so far from what was once her home. One of the first things her eyes go to when she opens her fridge is a pink-y red fruit. A pomegranate.

She reaches for the fruit, not one she usually eats, and sets out a towel on a cutting board as she pulls a knife from the rack and sets the fruit down on the towel. With a decisive cut she splits the fruit in half and watches as it leaks red, sticky juice onto the fabric of her towel. With another cut she hears the small cracks of protest from the fruit before it’s split into fourths on her cutting board. In some sick twisted way this is helping her feel better but causing new trains of thought to fester in her mind. People think pomegranates are beautiful and love them despite the mess they make. How their nails get stained with red after getting to the seeds inside, how the juice sticks to them and stains their lips a deeper hue. Despite the mess, pomegranates are loved. 

“You’re impossible to love,” she thinks of that moment again. It feels like it should be tattooed on her. She’s impossible to love. She asks for too much and gives too little. Is her mess one people can’t clean up?  She wants to stain somebody's lips with her love, wants it to be in their skin like it’s in hers. And maybe that’s the problem. Her love is messy, impossible, people don’t want love that stains them. That lingers on their lips and hands. She wants someone to love her despite the mess she makes and still think of her as beautiful. 

As she takes the fruit out of the shell she wonders if anyone will treat her this carefully, if they’ll peel back the layers of her defenses to see what’s inside. Get to the root of her, if they would peel away the seeds of doubt. Gently let their fingers trace her skin and stain her as much as she stains them. Pick out the parts of her that hurt, see the bruises of her character and kiss over them with love and understanding. Take care in taking apart the things that cause others to give up, to love her despite the bruises or imperfections of her outer shell. 

As she eats the fruit she welcomes how it stains her skin, how it colors her lips and mouth. She welcomes the mess it creates and enjoys it still with her being. Someone will love her and the mess she makes, will take care in cleaning up the cuts and wounds that have appeared on her heart. Will wash away the stains of pain that have colored her skin. She washes the cutting board, and is careful to get as much of the stain out of the wood as possible. The knife is much easier to clean, as it usually is. The tool to break things is much easier to clean than the stains of the act, the tool is a simple swipe clean and is back to normal. She knows the rag and cutting board will never be the same, no matter how much she scrubs and washes them. They will be forever stained with the juice of her snack. The peel winds up in her compost bin, and the bowl housing the rest of the seeds is covered and placed back in the fridge.

Her nails will be stained for the next few days, a rose color, and she’ll feel the remnants on her teeth for weeks. Her body will remember what her words will not. What her eyes and mind will forget as new information washes over them. As she slips into bed for the night she thinks of a blonde who broke her heart and of a farmer who despite not knowing her was as gentle with her as a piece of glass. He didn’t treat her as breakable but in the little acts he did for her in the one day they had, he showed more care than she had grown accustomed to. Had dodged past her thorns and held the stem to guide and prune. He had been kind, in a world where so very few people were anymore.

She followed his instructions and took a blanket outside, a time when she really should not have been awake, and laid down on the grass of her backyard and gazed at the stars. She had heard some people didn’t like how insignificant they felt looking at stars but they comforted her in ways she’s not sure she will ever be able to explain with words. The thought that there are other people out there going through what she is going through made her feel less…less angry. The anger had continued to fester under the surface from the days prior, she’s not sure how the stars managed to soothe her, get rid of the boiling deep in her soul and replace it with gentle waves. She should thank Kita, she has the thought as she drinks water from her cup and she lays back down to look at the stars. Maybe she was a star in someone else’s universe, or maybe she could become the star of her own universe. That didn’t sound half bad. Live for herself, not others.

The remainder of the week was peaceful, no more nonsensical meltdowns, or thoughts that spun like a top out of control. She arrived half an hour earlier than Kita told her to each day; every day they ate breakfast together. She would see him about to walk out the door before hearing her car roll over the gravel of the driveway and watch as he stood in the doorway. Despite the shake of his head there was a barely concealed smile on his lips, and she would feel a matching one grow on her own face. “I told you to come at six,” was his reply every morning.

“If I came at six we wouldn’t be able to have breakfast like we are now.” She would say as she sat down in the wooden chairs of his dining room. She was beginning to grow accustomed to the way the home felt. It felt warm, comfortable. There wasn’t hate in the walls that made the house grow small, there was love and you could tell in everything inside the home. Pictures lined the muted brown walls of the living room when you entered the home. There was a brick fireplace right in the middle; spot free of leftover ash from cold winter nights. They would talk about everything and nothing while Kita made breakfast for them, insistent as he was that he did all the work. Somehow she would always help with the sides of the day like biscuits or hashbrowns.

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[telekineticseance]

PURPLE PASSION

kinktober day one: leather & latex

pairing: trey parker x f! reader

summary: trey finds out you liked what he looked like in that one orgazmo suit

genre: smut

word count: 3170

cw: f!masturbation, mentioned age gap (mid20s!f x mid40s!m), dick riding, small subby trey moment, unprotected sex

author's note: the suit is technically like vinyl but oh well

Ever since you watched Orgazmo all you could think about was Trey in that vinyl suit, it drove you crazy and you hadn’t said a word to him about watching it. Not that you think he would mind, you just had never really watched any of his older stuff since you didn;t really know much about him before the two of you got together a year or so ago.

Your relationship had a pretty significant age gap as you were in your mid-20s and Trey was in his mid-40s, so when he asked for your number at an event that your friend made you go to, it definitely caught you by surprise, especially when you found out who he was shortly afterwards.

But now here you were, sitting in his house, or your shared house, while he was at work, rewatching Orgazmo just for a chance to see him in the vinyl suit once more. You constantly had the thought of bringing it up to him, maybe suggesting the suit without actually telling him what the source of it was, but you couldn’t find yourself to actually do it.

You felt your hand grab the remote as you continued to press the button to rewind the fight scenes over and over again, watching the way his arms flexed, the way the chest hair poked over the top of the suit.

A sigh escaped your mouth as you crossed your legs, repositioning yourself to try and ignore the obvious feeling that started to grow. You pressed the play button on the remote again, watching the scene play out on the screen, completely starting to miss the original plot of the movie. You glanced at your phone, checking to see if Trey had sent you anything about his status at work but instead you were just faced with the clock that read 7:36PM meaning Trey probably wouldn’t be home for at least another 2 hours, at least.

You paused the movie, looking at the clip of Trey in the suit as you bit your bottom lip before sighing and getting up from the bed. “This is disgusting.” You mumbled to yourself as you shimmied your pants down to your ankles, leaning back against the pillows.

Your eyes fixated on the screen, your teeth sinking so deep into your lip, you thought you could taste the metallic flavor of blood against your tongue. You slipped your fingers in between your thighs, running them along the inside before you reached the fabric of your panties, slowly applying pressure and starting to rub against your folds.

The heartbeat in your chest started to quicken along with the pace of your hand as you let out a few gasps, your eyes still fixated on the screen. You heard a small whine escape from your mouth before moving aside your panties with your fingers, dipping on in between your folds.

“Hmm Trey…” His name left your lips, the same lingering feeling it leaves when he’s the one making you feel this way. And in a way, it was kind of him causing this feeling in the first place.

You let out another moan as you continued pumping your fingers, feeling your stomach start to tighten while you continued rubbing at your clit.

“Hey beautiful I came home for lunch to see you an-” Trey’s voice rang through as the bedroom door opened and you quickly pulled your hand away, grabbing the remote to shut off the tv. When you turned to look at the door you saw Trey standing there with two bags of Mcdonald’s food and a confused look on his face.

His eyes scanned down to the pants on the floor to you practically sprawled out on the bed before he opened his mouth to speak before closing it again as the gears in his head started turning to figure out what he was looking at. “Were you…?” He asked, glancing back down at the pants before going back to you.

“Was I what?” You asked, trying to act calm as you leaned back on the pillows, turning onto your side as you tried giving him the best “sexy” pose to try and deter his mind from what he may or may not have seen.

“Were you…ya know?” He asked, setting the food down on the table next to the bed as he slowly walked over before coming over and hovering over you, “Having fun without me?” He asked, his hands trailing down to the elastic on your panties, giving them a small tug.

You bit your bottom lip as you watched him, “Maybe I was,” you spoke softly to him. He gave you a small chuckle before putting his lips to yours, pulling off his zip up hoodie in the process. His hands went to your torso as he shifted slightly, accidentally hitting the remote as he did so, flipping the screen back on.

“Oh shit. Hold on,” Trey mumbled as he grabbed the remote and turned to turn off the screen and before you could stop him, his eyes were already staring at the paused image of him. “Hold on..”

You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you as you tried hiding under the hem of your shirt. “Is that what you were watching when you…?” He asked as his gaze pulled from the screen back onto you. Your cheeks started to heat up as you gave him a small nod, “Mmhmm.”

Trey tried holding back a laugh but failed as his face scrunched up as he let out a decently loud laugh, making you want to curl up and die in a hole somewhere where he would never find you.

When the laughter subsided he looked back at you, “Wait..why?” He asked, his curiosity perking up. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumbled, turning away from him.

“Hey..” He cooed, his arm wrapping around you from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder, “Was it me?” He asked, a hint of cheeriness in his voice.

“Yeah.” You told him, hoping he would just take that as an answer and move on from the topic, and hopefully just forget about it all together so you would never have to worry about it again.

“What about me?” He asked, pressing light kisses against your shoulder as his fingers ran up and down your arm. “Hm?”

You let out a small sigh, “Nothing. Just missed you because of work.” You lied before he grabbed you lightly by your shoulder, turning you on your back as he lied next to you on his side, “You’re lying.”

“Am not.” You told him, turning your head to get a better look at him. He had both of his eyebrows raised as he looked at you, “Are too. Now come on, just tell me.” He whined, his face turning into a pout. You tried looking away but the pout on his face only increased more as he inched closer, begging you to tell him.

“Fine. It was the vinyl suit.” You mumbled the last part. “I’m sorry, I didn't quite catch that.”

“It was the purple suit. The vinyl one? The one you wore? The one you're wearing right there.” You confessed, motioning to the image that still displayed on the screen. Trey’s mouth opened into an ‘o’ shape.

You felt the heat come back to your face again as you looked at him, embarrassed by your confession. “But it’s whatever. It’s just a silly thing. Not like there was some other guy in it.” You spoke as you grabbed the remote from Trey, shutting off the screen.

Trey’s facial expression quickly changed to a more neutral one as he gave you a small nod, “You’re right. You are right.” He spoke, turning back to you. “How many times have you…?”

“Oh my god Trey can we please just not talk about it anymore?” You snapped, immediately feeling bad for the slight raise in your voice, “I’m sorry I’m just a little embarrassed and would rather not talk about it.”

Trey quickly nodded before grabbing the bags of food from the bedside table, “Well then..we won’t talk about it. Until then, I brought you lunch, thought we could lay in bed and watch a movie, not Orgazmo, together until I have to go back?”

“I’d love that.” You told him, grabbing one of the bags from him as the two of you started watching a random movie he put on together and ate, him not bringing up the suit incident again, at least you thought he wouldn’t.

—

The next couple of days were quiet around the house, Trey was only home in the late hours of the night and he would mainly just go to bed when you were already drifting off and then he would wake you up by giving you a small forehead kiss before leaving to go back to work.

You knew with Wednesday coming up you knew Trey would be home earlier than usual so you wanted to surprise him. You started by setting up the dinner table with one of Trey’s favorites that the two of you would cook together during off season before you changed into the dress you had worn when you met Trey, just to give the night an even better feeling with it.

When you were finishing up with getting dressed, you heard the front door open and Trey’s voice started echoing throughout the house, searching for you. You walked down the stairs and rounded the corner to see Trey, the hair on his head disheveled, a random sports shirt, and baggy jeans. When you rounded the corner he practically dropped the backpack resting on his shoulder, as his face lit up, his eyes brightening from the tiredness that usually sat in them during his work weeks.

“Hi baby.” His voice perked up as he slowly walked over towards you, his arms wrapping around your waist, “I’ve missed you,” He spoke softly, his eyes scanning you.

“Is that the dress you wore when we met?” He asked, grinning.down at you, his thumbs rubbing circles in your lower back as he held you close. You gave him a small nod as he let out a small hum, leaning down and giving you a small kiss. “Still as beautiful as the first time I saw you.” He whispered against your lips causing a blush to rise to your cheeks.

“Come on, I have something for you.” You told him as you pulled away from his grasp, taking his hand and leading him to the kitchen. Trey followed you closely behind, his hand not letting go of yours as this is the first time you two have been equally awake and active in almost a week.

“Ta-da!” You spoke, showing him the food laid out on the table in front of you. “Awwwhh.” Trey let out a soft groan, not a negative one, as he looked at the table before looking back at you, “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” you responded, looking up at him, “I missed you too.”

Trey let out a small sigh with a smile in response, running his hand along your cheek, into your hair, “Well I got you something too. But it’ll have to wait until after dinner.”

You bit your bottom lip, nodding as the two of you sat at the table, your curiosity piquing at what Trey could’ve possibly gotten for you.

The two of you sat through dinner, Trey telling you about how the show had been going along with the other projects he had been working on and you listened, loved hearing him talk about the things he was passionate about, the way he’d talk with his hands and how his face would light up like a kid in a toy store. It’s what made you fall in love with him, and stay in love with him.

When the dinner came to an end, Trey got up from his chair and looked at you, “Okay wait here and give me like 10,,,no 5…no 10 minutes. Okay?” You nodded in response before he ran towards the stairs and went up them as fast as he could.

You continued to sit in curiosity, of course you and Trey had always planned surprises for each other but this one was different, the way he talked about it was in a different tone, and he definitely seemed a little more energetic about it than normal.

You watched the clock as the minutes passed. Finally, when it hit 10 minutes, you slowly walked yourself up the stairs before being met with the closed door at the end of the hallway. “Trey?” You asked, giving it a light knock.

“Come iiinnnn.”

You opened the door slowly, not knowing what to expect to be behind it but were suddenly taken aback by the sight of your long term boyfriend in a familiar vinyl suit that pressed tightly against his body, his age definitely filling it out in a different shape than it once did, but still looking good nevertheless.

“Trey…” You could barely form words, not knowing whether you were fighting back a sob of what could’ve been excitement or laughter. He even had the matching gloves and mask on. “I know I don’t look like how I used to, but I even shaved my arms again for this.”

You felt as though your heart was going to beat out of your chest as you bit your bottom lip, eyes scanning him from the tip of his head to the bottoms of his shoes. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“Does it still work for you?” He asked, giving you a small spin, running his hands along his body in a playful way, causing you to roll your eyes. “And what if it does?” You asked, inching closer to him. He looked down at you as you walked closer, your bodies beginning to touch.

“I would say it’s a mission accomplished then.” He looked down at you, his hand beginning to snake around you. You reached your hand up, pulling the mask from off his face before tossing it aside. “Well then it looks like you’re right.”

You felt him lean down, kissing you deeply as if you hadn’t kissed for days, which in reality you probably hadn’t. Your hands ran along the vinyl of the suit, taking in the feeling of what you could previously only picture in your mind.

Trey’s gloved fingers ran along your arm, before he slipped your straps off your shoulders, letting your dress pool around your ankles. “Were you really not wearing anything under that this whole time?”

“Does that bother you?” You asked, letting your fingers loop around the belt around his waist. He let out a small laugh in response while shaking his head, “Not at all.”

You felt the two of you slowly make your way to the bed, turning so Trey lied on his back as you climbed on top, letting your hands feel the vinyl against his skin.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you like this before.” Trey commented, letting out a small breath and leaning his head back into the pillow below him as your hands moved lower down his body.

He shifted under your weight, his breathing starting to quicken as you started palming him through the suit, feeling a lack of underwear underneath which only made you more excited.

His mouth parted as his breaths grew heavy, letting out little gasps as you continued rubbing him through the tightening fabric.

Trey’s hands moved up to the zipper that sat on his chest as he gave it a slight tug before looking down at you, “May I?” He asked as you gave him a nod, watching as he tugged at the zipper, slipping the straps off his shoulders.

You ran your hands up his chest, taking in the feeling of his skin against yours, missing the touch of him.

You leaned down, pressing your lips against his as you helped him slide the vinyl suit down as low as you could reach, but enough to where his cock sprang out from the restraint of the suit.

You wrapped your fingers around his length, sliding it from the base to the top as you moved slow enough making sure to take in this moment for the two of you.

“Fuck me.” Trey mumbled under his breath, his eyes screwed shut while he practically shuddered under your touch.

“What was that?” You asked, tightening your grip ever so slightly as you continued stroking.

“Baby please.” He winced under your touch, thrusting up into your hand, barely able to open his eyes to look at you.

It didn’t take much for you to give in because you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you, if not more. You moved your legs to be on either side of him before lowering yourself onto him, moving your hips as you did so.

You felt Trey’s hands grab onto your hips, the coldness from the vinyl sending chills down your spine as you continued moving your hips, holding onto his stomach.

The beads of sweat ran down his forehead as you gazed down, seeing the way his cheeks were starting to flush to a rose shade. His grip continued to tighten on your hips as he thrust up occasionally, a grunt escaping from him as he did so.

You leaned down, kissing him once more as you felt your lips melt together, feeling Trey’s hands move to tangle into your hair. “God I’ve missed you.” Trey mumbled against your lips in between breaths before putting his lips to yours once more.

You felt the familiar tightening in your lower stomach as your breathing increased, the moans between the two of you getting louder as your pace started to grow. When you tried to open your mouth to speak the only sounds you could produce were moans and hums.

The tightening in your stomach ran down as you started to feel your body heat increase with your heart rate, the feeling of your peak only getting higher with every move you made.”M’gonna..” You whined out, burying your face into his neck as Trey’s grip on your hair tightened, signaling he was almost there as well.

The pornographic sounds in the room continued to increase before you reached your high, tightening around Trey’s cock before releasing, feeling his tip twitch from inside as he released himself.

You continued rotating your hips, riding out the high from the two of you before letting out a small sigh, continuing to lay on his chest as you felt his hand move from your hair to stroke your spine lightly. “So are there any other turn ons you have that I should know about?” His voice broke the silence before you glared up at him, resting your head back on his chest. 

“Shut up, Trey.”

[surgepricing]

RWBY Final Thoughts: Legacy

Very rarely would I ever consider a fandom on its own worth its own section of a Final Thoughts. ... [Basically,] they behave like a cult.

This is a repost of a post I made February 1st, 2024 on another site. At the time, it was the final post of a deep-dive recap of RWBY and the history of the show, its fandom, and its direction under Rooster Teeth.

I felt this out with some of my peers and the feedback I got in relation to posting in on Tumblr was that, well, why not? It was my main haunt to begin with, and I may as well, since Rooster Teeth is closing its doors. I'm posting this mainly as a shot in the dark just to see how it gets received. Only minor edits have been made; I'm sure there's some stuff in here that would make people mad, but that applies to pretty much anything someone could say about RWBY. Click the read more to get a glance at how my time with RWBY ultimately wrapped up.

Nine years ago today, Monty Oum died of an allergic reaction. Today is a day of mourning for fans of his work, including RWBY. There’s no sense in waiting. Let’s finish this and heal.

The Showrunners

Miles and Kerry often received the brunt of the attention when it came to RWBY. As the writers of the show, they bore responsibility for the largest chunk of why it eventually went into the shitter, and fan anger against them was almost certainly not helped by the damn near idolization heaped on them by fervent stans. They are, undoubtedly, the focal point of RWBY fans’ parasocial relationship with the show.

Of course, despite sharing about the same credits space as his partner in crime, Kerry tended to fly under the radar a lot, with it being Miles who received the brunt of the fandom’s fury with each successive volume. It’s not hard to see why; the character Miles voices has been consistently over-exposed and is in many ways an obvious creator’s pet, with denials as to this fact falling on deaf ears as Jaune’s screentime continued to balloon past its merits, whereas the character Kerry voices could just about wrangle an average of ten seconds of screentime every three years. Certainly Miles has been in trouble with fans more often than Kerry for the shit he’s said and done. The Ruby body pillow and the Tifa Lockhart ‘prostitute’ comments come to mind. Oh, and the slurs, that one too.

But perhaps the reason Miles gets so much more flak than Kerry is that Miles just...acts like an asshole a lot of the time. Even aside from above examples, Miles’ flaws come out in his writing: he’s petty, holds grudges, can’t take criticism, and just overall has way more power over the story than someone of his caliber should. He’s very poor at disguising his real feelings and often lets them bleed through, and when he actually decides to voice them on purpose, things get ugly—refer to that Cameo about Ironwood.

But as tempting as it is to treat Miles as an out-of-control cockwaffle on the rampage and Kerry as his sympathetic ineffectual shadow, the reality is that they’re co-writers, have been for ten years, and anything Miles gets away with doing is as much Kerry’s fault as his. If the Gray Haddock situation has taught us anything, it’s that more people tend to harbor blame than the one individual that makes an easy scapegoat.

Since aside from aforementioned n-word business, Miles and Kerry are almost never connected to moral outrage, this makes it easy for the stans to uphold them, since all they really have to defend them from is accusations that they didn’t honor Monty’s “vision” for the series. This is only easy because the stans are fucking insane, but that’s for later on down the page.

“Vision” is in quotes because that’s how fans treat it, we all know they don’t really care. Miles and Kerry’s vision matters, and we know that much because of Calixyn’s interview where she all but begged to be told that RWBY Volume 5 was as bad as it was because the “good bois” had control of the show ripped from them. Nope, turns out all that racism, homophobia, and plain shitty writing is all on them. But at least they’re nice!

(Miles was 26 when he said the n-word. I’m 26 now when writing this. I think it’s pretty fair to call him an asshole.)

But the truth is that it’s objectively stupid to think that the direction of RWBY hasn’t changed since Monty’s passing, it’s impossible for it not to have. There are more writers on board than before, and it’s been a long time since he was alive to contribute his thoughts. The real question is whether they at least tried, and I don’t think they did.

I mean, Shane Newville never names Miles and Kerry in his letter, but he does state several times that the choices made for the show were not only not what Monty wanted, but “straight up just shitting all over what Monty made”. I find it very difficult to believe that that insinuation, and all of the people caught up in the net it casts, wouldn’t include those two. And like it or not, but the person who is able to compile tons of clips and interviews over the years as some sort of seeming immutable proof that “CRWBY” are good-hearted people determined to preserve Monty’s vision, isn’t really looking at any more evidence than the person who’s come to the conclusion, based on what they’ve seen, that that the opposite is true. And they’re certainly looking at less evidence than the people who actually did work there around Monty, Miles, and Kerry. The facts sometimes boil down to ‘if it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and is implicated in the walls of text like a duck, it’s probably a duck’, guys.

Even in the best case scenario in which the work of Monty Oum turns out to have been treated with dignity and respect (and was just really shittily written from the beginning), the fact remains that Miles and Kerry did not put a quality product into the world. I will be very surprised if either of them manages to get a lead writing position ever again, because once the popularity of RWBY fades, so too will the goodwill they’ve somehow amassed among its fans. RWBY, much like Twilight, is inevitably going to taint the people who were in charge of writing it.

But Miles and Kerry are just two dudes. What exactly is going to happen to those fervent fans who hung on their every word and insisted they were the embodiment of everything pure and innocent? What, exactly, is going to happen to the RWBY fandom that once seemed to be unavoidably populous on the internet?

F, N, D, M

We already went over “constructive criticism” and “worldbuilding”, so let’s add another eternally-misused word to our roster. You know, something I’ve occasionally thought about in terms of online spaces is that no one knows what a “comfort show” is. It’s one of those terms that became too popular almost as soon as it was introduced, to the point that it became meaningless, much like “hyperfixation” and “anxiety”. I see people refer to RWBY as their comfort show and I’m just like...how? A comfort show is supposed to be the show that always puts you in a good headspace, a show you rest easy with because you’ve always connected with it because the love was always there. A comfort show is a show that you watch in your down moments to feel better, not a show you think is just the greatest thing ever, the bees’ knees if you will.

A comfort show is not a show you force yourself to like, it is not a show you defend at all costs, and it is not a show you only still cling to because enjoying it once coincided with a time when you felt popular and among friends. Which, increasingly, seems to have been the case for RWBY fans.

RWBY’s Fandom

Very rarely would I ever consider a fandom on its own worth its own section of a Final Thoughts. But I’m doing it now because the RWBY fandom, though now it’s a shadow of its former self, is still a sizable chunk of people and took a lot longer to die than most other fandoms.

The RWBY fandom itself was an especially big and very online fandom, and the show produced an abnormally large amount of big name fans who continued to use their own influence to push its success and keep its momentum going. As I’ve said before, the RWBY fandom is something that Rooster Teeth were able to extract an excessive amount of praise out of for minimal effort; it simply seems to be in RWBY fans’ nature to speculate and theorize and over-analyze and fill in blanks, and to perceive good writing and animation where there is none. But you know how fandom operates—the bigger its size, the more infamous it becomes.

Long since famed for being especially toxic, those who are in the know consider RWBY fans a different breed, really. They create and move narratives at high speed and act quickly to correct any perceived dissent in the ranks, casting out anyone that feels disillusionment with the product and insisting everything is peachy even as their world crumbles around them. To RWBY fans, the “CRWBY” are always separate from the “problematic” aspects of Rooster Teeth (which is basically the whole company) and it doesn’t matter how many of its flaws get highlighted; RWBY and the people that make it are always great, innocent of any harm done and fantastic, and anyone that dislikes them is a villain—even if those people were at one point part of the “CRWBY” themselves. Loyalty is everything. In other words, they behave like a cult.Those acronyms themselves have always bothered me, and I’ve grown a strong distaste for them. Originally they were just a quirk of the show; a format for team names that spawned the name of the show and eventually stopped being relevant altogether. But RWBY fans are simply unable to not use them. It’s not “the fandom” it’s “the FNDM”. They’re not “the RWBY team” or “the RWBY crew”, they’re “CRWBY”. Even people that the fans are actively trying to shame, shun, and harass don’t get to simply be people—they’re “RWDE” and, when that became an actual community of sorts unto itself, was switched to “HTDM”, short for “hatedom”. They remind me distinctly of code words that get formed and passed around in cult movements, identifying terms that quickly provide boxes to put people in and make it easier to sort loyals from disloyals. “Hatedom” itself is another one of those terms that spread and got so prolific it really doesn’t carry any meaning anymore. Real hatedoms are surprisingly rare, guys. Every fandom that becomes big enough for its respective product to become criticized eventually comes to believe it has a ‘hatedom’ because how could someone dislike something I like so much? But a hatedom on its own arises out of very specific circumstances and environments, and causes the spread of hate for a product based on broad foundations that are often unfair to the product and which creates perceptions that spread faster than the work, so that the work is often talked about in mocking reference rather than true dissatisfaction.

RWBY doesn’t have a hatedom guys, it never did. The Last of Us doesn’t have a hatedom. Fairy Tail didn’t have a hatedom. Blackpink doesn’t have a hatedom. Even Marvel doesn’t have a hatedom.

Paris Hilton had a hatedom. Nickelback had a hatedom. Hell, the website Tumblr itself had a hatedom. These were examples of people or products whose reputations spread too quickly and eventually swallowed rational perception of them, with people who have never experienced them or their work dismissing them and the fans who enjoy it wholesale.

Using the term “hatedom” is understandably common because (and in spite of the fact that) it allows for easy miscategorization. A hatedom is not composed of people that were actually exposed to the work, found it lacking, and expressed that. A hatedom does not occur in the wake of a product that was so bad it pissed off its fans and caused them to walk. People don’t hate Metroid: Other M because they can’t stand the sight of a woman being vulnerable and don’t understand challenging drama, they hate it because it was poorly written, badly designed, and tarnished a long-running and highly cherished gaming heroine’s reputation. People didn’t hate Fifty Shades of Grey because of some bias against women expressing their sexual freedom, they hated it because it was a wildly misogynistic and badly-written piece of dreck. People didn’t hate The Last of Us Part II because of homophobia and transphobia, they hated it because it was a misery fest with a tired moral theme that posited itself far more deep and compelling than it really was. And just because people with the above disingenuous views also hated these things does not discount the fact that the works got the reputations they did because they were getting back the exact amount of love and respect that was put into them.

Similarly, RWBY doesn’t have a hatedom. It does, in fact, have an ex-fandom. Those are also things you don’t see very often, but when you do, they almost always follow the same pattern, don’t they? A work which got wildly popular very quickly, took really deep nosedives afterward, and became disowned by the people that had formerly propped it up.

But that’s a discussion for later. What exactly makes RWBY’s fandom so toxic and cult-like, and why and how did it get that way? I think it’s a combination of several key factors that were baked in and collided badly.

The first was ease of access. RWBY was sold extremely well early on, and shared enough similarities with both anime and video games that it attracted many curious people from those communities. Combine that with vibrant colors, an attractive visual aesthetic, an air of badassery, and good music, and it gained a lot of loyal fans quickly—fans of anime and video games, specifically, being fans that tend to get more attached than to other mediums and are known for spending a lot on merchandise. These, in turn, morphed into nostalgic elements ripe for misremembering—people often have difficulty acknowledging that something they once liked isn’t good anymore even on its own, and I think RWBY fans in particular put way too much energy into the show to be able to admit that all the time they spent defending it (and harassing people who criticized it) was for nothing.

That skyhigh rocket to fame early on, of course, was attached to the reputation of Monty Oum, and once he died, he quickly became a martyr, which galvanized the loyalty of the show’s most toxic fans even further. To this day, talking about Monty at all, even for the right reasons, is seen as disrespectful or distasteful unless you’re trying to use him to prop up Rooster Teeth, a double standard I’ve unfortunately run into even in seeming safe spaces. I think if we’re comparing RWBY fandom to a cult, then Monty Oum and his memory can be compared to a central mythologized figure, the center around which are formed all of the pretty lies the members of the cult will tell you. Monty’s name is irreplaceably tied to RWBY, and as such, in order to defend Monty, its fans have to defend RWBY...and you can see where this leads. Attempting to talk about the mistreatment Monty and his family went through at Rooster Teeth is seen as using his name as a weapon—nevermind the fact that Rooster Teeth and their fans regularly use his name as a shield.

Of course, what this really reveals is that many such people don’t care about Monty, who he was, or who he went through, but rather his name alone. In fact, I’ve straight up seen RWBY stans say that people shouldn’t “take Monty’s name in vain”, as if Monty were in fact some sacred religious figure. It’s both bizarre and harmful.

A third factor was popularity. For a lot of the same reasons as, say, Supernatural, the perception of RWBY skews much more broadly between fan and ex-fan than that of the typical over-hyped show. The truth of the matter is that when a show gets popular, or really any work gets popular, enjoying it becomes a cliquey sort of thing. People that enjoyed being into something well-respected and widely known and basically the hottest trend are far more prone to become overly attached, put too much of themselves into it, and remain unequipped to deal with the fact of that trend’s eventual passing, especially if it’s a fall into disgrace rather than a quiet entrance into history. You can still find certain especially toxic big names from the RWBY fandom active and posting, pretending not to notice that their audience has become smaller and smaller over the years. Let’s face facts here, a lot of people that enjoy being part of the “in” crowd never manage to figure out how to accept losses and will do anything to try and regain lost popularity, or fool themselves into thinking they’re still on top of the world.

But we can reason and explain all day. Another truth of the matter is that it shouldn’t be other people’s problem that fans can’t accept reality and adjust, and that the RWBY fandom quite honestly deserves its reputation as abysmally toxic. The way terminal fans of the show have treated anyone who dissents, most prominently Shane Newville and other ex-employees, let alone other ex-fans of the show, is quite frankly disgusting. RWBY stans are difficult to look at in all of their bewildering, teeth-gnashing toxicity and forgive...so I’m not going to. People that still insist there’s nothing wrong with this show or the company making it are, as far as I’m concerned, beyond help, and are part of the problem. Many an ex-employee certainly thinks so.

In a lot of ways, you could call the fandom one of the driving forces of the show’s failure, mostly because they had an abnormally large amount of influence over the show. Pleasing the fans has always been a major goal of the RWBY team (unless you like characters Miles Luna doesn’t, I guess), but it’s almost disturbing how the Rooster Teeth strategy has been to lead them along and bat their eyelashes at every turn and how the fandom laps it up.

Of course, Rooster Teeth feeds the parasocial engine by engaging with the fans as equals, and I was given a disturbing reminder of how many of the people who worked on the show—the ones who aren’t pissed and digging themselves out of trauma ditches—behave exactly as the fans do, tweeting twenty times a day about their favorite ships and memes. By creating the perception that RWBY’s team is just like the RWBY fanbase and wants the same things they want, they tap that line of excess energy that’s kept this fandom going so long despite how far it’s fallen. It’s that “hey! my friend said my ship is going to be canon and he works on the show” feeling.

Of course, a probable reason as to why so many employees who worked on RWBY behave the way RWBY fans do is because a lot of them started out that way. As in, student hires. This has long been an open secret of Rooster Teeth’s M.O. for a while now, hiring people who look up to them and engage heavily with their content. Many an ex-animator has lambasted this tactic because it’s insidious, and purposely designed to make the incoming staff feel honored and indebted and excited so they won’t notice how they’re being fucked over. Arryn Troche, who made the ‘gays greenlighting volume 10’ tweet, rings up as a particularly eerie example considering they have the same rather-uncommon and unconventionally-spelled name as the voice actor for a ship they’re obviously very attached to. A quick search reveals them to have been a longtime fan and cosplayer for the show before being signed on as a junior animator.

And it is the fandom who ultimately makes the legacy for any given work or body of work. So what is RWBY ultimately going to be remembered for?

Legacy

I thought about it for a little while and found five things that are most likely to be associated with RWBY in the public’s memory after its death. The first should come as no surprise to anyone.

Bumbleby

The only part of RWBY that will likely be carried on by fans who stuck with it until the end is, of course, the only part of it that mattered, to many of them. You’ll know from my earlier recaps that shipping was always a big deal in fandom, but due to key choices (or if you prefer, mistakes) made during Volumes 2 and 3, one ship grew larger and more promoted in fandom circles than any others.

This is a combination of the unique features of the RWBY fandom and their one-track mind. The fans are well-known, as I said, to fill in the blanks in a pattern that best suits their narratives, and this works out with Rooster Teeth because it means that any sudden changes in direction they make will always be excused and praised rather than critically examined. Unsurprisingly, Bumbleby’s fandom, now that their victory has been cemented, have doubled down on their narrative that this was the intended goal from the beginning, despite it being plainly obvious that early RWBY was angling for Sun Wukong as the love interest and threw the occasional bones to Blake/Yang shippers to try and play nice.

This used to be one part of the fandom, of course, but as the show continually bombed with viewers and made more and more decisions that pushed them away, all competitors were slowly filtered out as their fans left, until Bumbleby shippers were the fandom. It’s no coincidence that Blake and Yang suddenly started acting unusually touchy and sentimental in Volume Six, following on the heels of a volume of RWBY so wildly unpopular that it woke up the company execs and forced them to acknowledge that the biggest part of their fanbase was only going to remain loyal in exchange for one thing: their ship.

The sad thing is that you can tell Rooster Teeth wanted to explore other options. Volume Five features a rather sudden shift into Yang and Weiss interactions in what I remain positive to this day was an attempt to sway shippers into a potential second choice while Black Sun was still in the oven, and this really represented one of the major errors of Rooster Teeth, in that they failed to understand the audience they were trying so hard to please.

Bumbleby became what I call a “Big Red Button” ship, and it is only the second of its kind that I’ve seen. The first? Destiel.

Yes, there’s a reason I kept comparing RWBY to Supernatural whenever Blake and Yang’s relationship came up. I admit I wasn’t a part of the Supernatural craze in its heyday and have never really enjoyed the show, but I’ve watched enough of it to connect the dots from what cultural osmosis I had to the eventual downfall we saw in November of 2020.

Both Bumbleby and Destiel were held up as the gay ship that would change everything, the biggest ship in the fandom and the one that would’ve been a major push for LGBT visibility, at least during their heydays. The problem was that its fans were not really that interested in LGBT visibility and were simply obsessed with the ship itself, applying it value as a win for LGBT audiences purely to bolster its perceived importance. Fans like this were not ever going to accept any alternatives regardless of the sexual orientations or gender conventions involved. Hence, the metaphor that is “the big red button”. You have a big red button that says “canon gay ship but not the ship you want” and ask the fans you’re trying to court whether they’d press it or not. Whatever they might say out loud, you know none of them is pressing that fucking button, ever.

Both of these Big Red Button ships became what they were due to showrunners being forced into courting an audience they really didn’t care for, and how could you blame them when both were infamously very, very over-active and annoying in general. Just like with RWBY’s well-intentioned but misguided Freezerburn phase in Volume 5, Supernatural also tried to gently shut down fans who then managed to obliviously ignore any and all hints that their ship was not meant to be endgame, and I can say that because “he’s like a brother to me” in any fandom but Supernatural would’ve been a tactical nuclear strike that sent the shippers packing. Once it failed, the gay bait came out in full force. It’s well known by now that, contrary to what one would imagine, the CW was not pulling a profit off of Supernatural’s minor mainstream success pushed by a cult following, so it’s no wonder they eventually resorted to desperately baiting the one audience that was going to stick it out no matter what, provided they had the right relationship dangled in front of them. RWBY went through the same thing.

The main problem with these two ships is that for all its diehards insisted that it was all about the gay representation, their respective shows teased and baited for so long that the world outside the little bubble these shippers lived in had moved on by the time they came to fruition. Gay visibility in media these days, at least western media, is easily available, to the extent that sometimes people believe homophobia is totally over when it really, really isn’t. If you’re looking for gay representation, you can find it plenty of places, and the first place you look probably isn’t going to be Supernatural or RWBY. So the huge wave of viewers that these shippers expected upon their victories was never going to occur, which might could’ve been avoided if the writers had simply grown a pair and made moves towards canon much sooner than before the shows were on their last legs and due to be scrapped.

Or, you know, just been honest. Diversions and alternatives were never going to work. The only thing that these shippers were ever going to understand was a hard no, a “sorry, this ship isn’t going to happen”. But the execs in charge of these shows were never willing to take a hit like that, so instead they dug their own grave.

And where does that leave the shippers, those people who devoted their whole lives to these fictional characters, only to find the show that bore them into the universe dead in a ditch? Well, nowhere good. Much like Supernatural, RWBY is heavily associated with its booming period, the heavily online portion of these shippers’ lives in the early and mid-2010s when it was all the rage, and yet in modern day, it’s seen as a bad neighborhood to hang in, an abandoned mansion at the corner of the street where awful things happened. These shippers don’t have many friends except each other.

Just like RWBY, Supernatural also exists primarily as an ex-fandom now. Much of its former fanbase remember the good days fondly but make no secret that they stopped following it once the writing tanked, and this left the shippers without many allies to associate with since so many of them had been pissed off with the way their shows ultimately became the Destiel Show and the Bumbleby Show, respectively. Contrary to an unfortunately popular idea, these shows did have actual LGBT fanbases, only a lot of their LGBT fans were not on kool-aid and avoided being sucked into a trap called “if you don’t ship this, you’re homophobic”.

You will find that the Bumbleby fandom are often looked on with disdain by quite a number of viewers of RWBY who have accused them of speaking over minorities, sexual and otherwise. Many fans have noted that, aside from Blake’s bisexuality being a seemingly late addition (Arryn Zech is noted to have cast her as straight when discussing Ilia Amitola’s ill-fated crush on her as late as 2019), Blake was very swiftly removed from all faunus characters who held romantic connotations in favor of Yang, implicitly saying that Blake was better committing to a white human woman than to an ethnic faunus male. There are obvious reasons why this left a bad taste in peoples’ mouths. Not to mention, other LGBT fans that invested in the show were not exactly welcomed with open arms.

Fair Game, or as I tend to call it, Qrowver? Qrow x Clover? Yeah, that was huge in Volume 7’s airing days. It very much experienced a rapid ballooning in fans and fandom love...but we all know how that ended. Many a fan who felt heartbroken and, importantly, betrayed by Clover’s sudden and rather pointless death turned on RWBY and Rooster Teeth and accused them of gaybaiting, which is of course exactly what happened. They received no sympathy from Bumbleby shippers—because of course they wouldn’t. If Rooster Teeth would gaybait with Qrow, a popular male character, that would mean they could potentially be gaybaiting with Blake and Yang, too. That was unacceptable, and so ironically the part of the fandom that had always crowed about the importance of extending a hand to LGBT viewers turned on LGBT viewers, valiantly defending Rooster Teeth as they always had.

And because Bumbleby fans had no room in their hearts for anything about RWBY except Bumbleby, and were hostile to anyone who didn’t ship it, they ended up being their own best friends and everyone else’s bad memories. When RWBY has faded from the public’s memory and is no longer a source of active income at all (so, basically right now), one of the only relics you’ll find of this show will be the two women making out in all the fanart you’ll find on the occasional Tumblr blog.

The Bigotry

You could call this section “the Racism” since that’s the biggest part of it, but we’d be remiss in neglecting the harm done to other minorities as well. We’ll get to them in a minute, but race is the thing that’s going to pop to mind when we talk about one of the other things RWBY left behind in the common memory.

One of the longest-running subplots that RWBY ever went through with was the racism subplot. Its basis is one of the things that so severely dates RWBY: creating an in-universe stand-in for people of color through the existence of people with animal traits was something you would absolutely not get away with after 2020, and even by 2016 was something liable to be seen as tacky. Nonetheless, RWBY openly used the faunus as stand-ins for black Americans and the struggles they faced in a white world.

Except that the company, based in Texas and headed largely by white staff, did not feel the importance of that. What slowly started out as a main character’s attempt to redeem an organization she felt had been driven too far and was no longer her home was slowly transformed into a means by which some incredibly racist people could spout off about what they felt were the real issues to be talked about, which were the condemnation they felt was deserved by activists that turned to violence, labeled, a little too quickly, as terrorists.

The 2010s saw a shift in social values, and much as with gay audiences and gay characters, black audiences and black characters—as well as other racial minorities—were experiencing something of a renaissance, with efforts to put the voices of these people into the public’s feeds. It wasn’t just George Floyd in 2020—the unexpected and frankly traumatic reign of Donald Trump as president of the United States galvanized the divide in America and social awareness became a bigger thing than ever, and since Trump was a flagrantly racist person with racist beliefs who enacted racist policies and was uplifted by racist Americans, people pushed back as they felt their lives and existences being threatened by a racist establishment...an establishment which Rooster Teeth came down on the side of very firmly.

No quarter is given to the fictional stand-ins. Sienna Khan’s policies are never examined in-depth, and the only close looks we get at the sorts of activism the White Fang does are at Adam, who is obviously condemned by the narrative and made into everything but a mustache-twirler, with delusional and frankly baffling beliefs of faunus superiority spelled out at length. No matter what concessions Rooster Teeth might’ve tried to make with Sienna’s beliefs before they stuck a sword in her, the fact of the matter is that their beliefs came through in the voices of Ghira and Blake, who made it very clear that the individual motives and experiences of people like Ilia, Corsac, Fennec, Yuma, and the rest simply don’t matter in the face of what they’d been driven to do by them. The whole ‘blacks can be racist’ tone of the final scenes involved in this subplot are both miles removed from the more cautious and neutral tone of early RWBY, and also just a very alarming red flag overall.

I went over this in my Volume 5 Final Thoughts: the shoddiness of the volume does not lie solely with the animation department. Miles and Kerry are known to have had generally sole control of the show up until Volume 7—but we also know that they didn’t have to, if they were writing anything company execs felt wasn’t to their tastes. The sudden twisting of Adam into a homicidal incel ex-boyfriend, along with his mutation into a faunus supremacist, when he was the face of the faunus movement as a whole, along with Sun’s blatant ill will towards the White Fang when he’d previously been willing to give them a chance on Blake’s word, all imply that Miles and Kerry endorsed the worst possible interpretations of racial activists and felt free to condemn them and place responsibility onto the faunus—and by extension, the real-life minorities they represented—to take a stand against the bad seeds within their causes, and the fact no one stopped them from airing this implies the higher-ups felt the same way.

People didn’t just leave RWBY after Volume 5 because of some really badly animated fights—they left because they’d felt too much of the authors’ racism coming through in the narrative and couldn’t comfortably continue watching. Every member of the faunus that had “bad” views was either killed (Adam, Sienna, Fennec), arrested (Corsac, Yuma), or “redeemed” by choosing to fight the first two (Ilia). All of these combined factors, with no room for charitable interpretations…not a good look.

And once Adam was defeated in Volume 5, and the White Fang reformed, that was the last anyone saw of that subplot, which had taken five years to wrap up and somehow still ended too early. Miles and Kerry had washed their hands of it, and references to Blake’s place in society were sparing from then on. This subplot’s inescapable presence throughout the show, combined with how it was dropped out of existence, left no room for redemption, either. No one was going back and saying “maybe this looks really, really bad”.

And so, that’s what a lot of people carried with them as their final and most relevant memories of RWBY: it’s astounding levels of racism. This is a bitter subject for many an ex-RWBY fan, many of whom aren’t white and, even among those that are, it’s simply inexcusable. Meet someone on social media who talks about RWBY at all, and isn’t one of the Bumbleby stans we’ve already discussed? You will find some mention or other of RWBY’s racist elements somewhere within their sphere. And so, that becomes a part of RWBY’s legacy, as a feature of the show that was simply too big to ignore and too poorly-handled to forgive. People don’t get over this shit, man.

This is of course not to mention the well deserved shitty reputation RWBY has for its other bigoted elements, as well. Bumbleby, as we’ve discussed, encompassed pretty much every RWBY stan left standing by 2020, but that left quite a few ex-fans that were fed up with the company’s obvious ploys when it came to sexuality and gender. Remember when I talked about Qrowver up above? Its ballooning and immediate fall from grace was a much-condensed version of RWBY as a whole, and pretty much featured as Rooster Teeth blowing their last remaining patience from LGBT fans to smithereens. The fact of the matter is that when you get down to it, every RWBY volume after Volume 4 was not a good time to be a minority. If you were gay, the show seemed to either ignore or despise you—between the background gays that warranted mockery, the mixed reception Ilia generated, and the outrage that finally boiled over when Clover bit it, part of RWBY’s legacy is how utterly unpleasant it has been for LGBT fans who expected and deserved better.

And so despite entering the scene in 2013 as a supposedly progressive show all for being led by four women, the show died known as a low-effort half-baked cringefest whose politics were always on display and always several years behind the trend.

The Good Days

Of course, another major part of RWBY’s legacy is the early days when everyone actually liked it. This is, again, something the show creators brought on themselves and something fans assisted with. I did mention the nostalgia for the Good Ol’ Days as a significant part of the RWBY fandom’s more cult-like elements, after all. The fact of the matter is, on some level, everyone knows that RWBY has spent several years going downhill. The ex-fans lament this fact, and the diehard stans insist that it’s all just as good as it used to be, primarily by doing what they do quite a lot, and linking completely coincidental elements back to things characters said or did in previous volumes as some sort of evidence that this has been the plan all along.

I’ve run polls on this matter before; even though I’ve recapped Volumes 1-3 thoroughly and shone lights on some pretty significant flaws, you ask anyone what they think the best volume of RWBY was and they’re gonna tell you Volume 3. Yes, even with all of the stalking incel Adam and the deaths of Penny and Pyrrha. It’s the last time RWBY felt cohesive and even though some obvious derailing was in effect, and Shane Newville has openly said that the behind-the-scenes matters were pretty ugly, it’s still the golden child. Shane’s only one person, and it’d be a while before RWBY scandals would become consistent and begin to overshadow the show as a whole.

The RWBY team themselves have certainly nurtured that very much on purpose. That tactic started with them, of course. Many elements that were either unpopular or predicted to ruffle feathers were stated to have originated in earlier volumes, even in situations where this wouldn’t have made sense or where it’s an obvious lie—such as Maria Calavera. They know full well their seasons post-Volume 3 were unpopular and receiving blowback, and tried to minimize it by linking them to more well-respected seasons. Suffice to say that this simply didn’t work. But it does make people remember those earlier volumes. Because so many ex-fans lost their energy for RWBY after its most active period, much of the hype from the hype era is all that you’ll see when you encounter one. Nostalgia wins out in the end, and at least RWBY can say that, as a show, it had enough of a headstart to leave an impression that lasted in a positive way. Although that’s only one side of the coin...

The Scandals

Let’s face facts here, the biggest part of RWBY’s legacy, period, is that it fucking died. It didn’t die instantly, but rather took hit after hit, blow after blow, and slowly had its image tarnished alongside that of the company, which failed to contain repeated scandals as ex-employee after ex-employee after ex-employee spoke out about the abysmal ways they’d been treated.

RWBY is Rooster Teeth’s biggest IP by far and, really, their only one worth talking about. Every other show was either eclipsed by it or unofficially canceled after bad reception. So when Rooster Teeth suffered the consequences of their actions, so did RWBY. It really can’t be overstated how the last few years of RWBY’s existence have been absolutely bombarded by a barrage of terrible Glassdoor reviews and bombshell exposure letters. Fans managed to stay strong through the first few rumblings of ill will, but after Volume 5 shook the fandom loose, discontent entered enough of the fandom sphere to be normalized, and once that happened, it was all downhill. Once people were actually allowed to talk about not liking Rooster Teeth’s content, they sure as hell weren’t going to be dissuaded from talking about not liking Rooster Teeth as a company or its practices.

Separating the art from the artist is a very difficult thing to do and only really appropriate in certain situations. Don’t fall for any kool-aid, guys, it doesn’t make you more mature or ‘above all the drama’ to actively ignore the damage done to real people in the process of getting fictional content out into the world.

If you’re still able to enjoy the Harry Potter books and look back on the good times they gave you in fondness, then fine. If you actually purchased and played the Hogwarts Legacy game programmed by antisemites and which puts money in the pocket of the transphobic owner of the franchise, then yeah, people will be right to give you shit for it. There’s a difference between quietly enjoying a product in a manner that doesn’t hurt anybody, and actively ignoring the people hurt to make that product while feigning concern. The gap in the fandom widened as the repeated leaks and scandals continuously ate away at the protective bubble around Rooster Teeth and it became clear that whatever fans might bleat, Rooster Teeth wasn’t going to ‘learn their lesson and do better’. The habitual cycle of using whatever recent scandal had occurred to cast disappointment and anger on a particular figure and uplift the rest of “CRWBY” (see also: the Gray Haddock issue) gave diminishing returns as the bombs kept dropping. This is part of why RWBY has such an ex-fandom, because if they aren’t enjoying the product and people were hurt to make it, why stay?

Crunching employees so hard they struggle to sleep and suffer debilitating health issues? Writing the n-word on a white board knowing a black employee will see it? Goading someone into trying to kill themselves? Calling an LGBT employee a slur and then making up a public-friendly nickname in place of that slur just to get away with continuing to call her that? Laying off people without warning or a means of letting them stay afloat until another job is found? Not paying or crediting employees and cultivating an environment where those in charge do what they want and those in the public eye reap all the benefit while those without a consistent spotlight get treated like dirt?

Just some of the things I thought up off the top of my head. There’s plenty more in the details. And you can’t blame Fullscreen, you can’t blame Warner, you can’t just write it off as something that happens at animation studios, because it isn’t. Yeah, the work environment in general for animation studios in America is lacking because, ya know, late-stage capitalism hellscape, but that’s dismissive of the point. Rooster Teeth are a bad company and hurt their employees and lie when called on it. It’s impossible to separate RWBY from Rooster Teeth (despite stubborn stans’ best attempts, which themselves have been called out by these same ex-employees) and because of that, RWBY’s legacy is one of corporate abuse and utterly vile behavior towards people that just wanted to make something cool.

People have refused to associate with the show over these things and honestly, they’re right to. RWBY’s ultimate legacy, if we’re honest, is the show that became a shadow of its former self, still trying to dazzle with reminders of its former glory and promises of gay relationships, all while trying to squeeze money out of both the employees who made it and the fans who upheld it. It’s the show that cost hundreds of people their physical and mental health and didn’t even have anything to show for it at the end of the day. It will live on in history as the most bitter of pills to swallow, that something you once liked and wanted to succeed can and will be ruthlessly twisted for profit margins and might actively hate you on the side. And speaking of…

Monty Oum

The biggest travesty of RWBY’s legacy is that Monty Oum is ultimately only the smallest part of it. He’s there, but barely—he’s a name in the credits that quite frankly is only there to keep up the facade of loyalty, when the show had stopped being Monty’s show before he even died and by now can be safely said to resemble nothing he would’ve made.

It’s a shame that for all that Monty was held up as a genius of his craft and a genuinely good man who inspired so many people, all he’s going to be remembered for is...this. A show people only attach his name to in an effort to insist it’s actually worth sticking by. Yes, Monty did other things, had other works, but none of them ever achieved even a fraction of the fame and respect that RWBY had from its first baby steps in 2013.

Maybe this could’ve been avoided if the real carriers of Monty’s legacy—Sheena, his wife, and Shane, his pupil—hadn’t been cast off as they had.

Shane seems to have found a new life and is working with Dillon Gu on animation, but I think we’ve all noticed his name hasn’t gone mainstream yet. I’ve tried to get in touch with him; from what I’ve gleaned, I frankly just advise leaving him alone. He wants to move on and I don’t think the RWBY fandom, which was so awful to him for telling the truth, is ever going to be a place he can feel welcome.

Sheena has mostly been quiet and done her own thing, cosplaying and watching anime and hopefully enjoying herself, although I notice posts on her Twitter feed from last year calling for a New Deal in the animation sector and castigating corporate abuses.

She also plays Hades, a much better product than RWBY with more love put into it and much better LGBT representation, which means her taste is excellent. She has a site now that you can go to, and the about section doesn’t mention Monty, her late husband, at all, for obvious reasons: Sheena doesn’t want to be connected to RWBY. Though, there is something there that’s noteworthy, in the last paragraph:

Still desiring a social element to her career, the animator turned professional cosplayer also has a history in the live stream world. Past broadcasts have included creating costume pieces, playing games with community members and subscribers, RPGs and more. No matter the project, peers or problem, Sheena strives to keep moving forward.

That powerful phrase we all associate with Monty.

It’s a shame that this show had to be Monty’s legacy, and that years off from now, his name isn’t going to mean anything to the public because the project he was passionate about and died making outlived him and his passion. It feels like his legacy was stolen, and his own part in the show’s legacy is held up purely as a pedestal on which the show should rightfully shine.

Every time I think about Monty, I think about how much I don’t want that to be me. For all the years I’ve spent here, with my graphics certifications being wasted since I earned them while I slave away in retail, I wonder if I’m the lucky one. If I were to enter the workforce and do what I loved, would it be worth it in the end? Would what happened to Monty and Sheena and Shane happen to me? Not sure I wanna know.

Snipped here.