#before decided it would probably be 5 parts

[daiourage]

TFO Other Prime AU (Concept #9: Design, Relationships)

[Parts: Part 1! | Part 2!]

[Other concepts: #1! | #2! | #3! | #4! | #5! | #6! | #7! | #8! | #10!]

As always, press/click for quality!

1. ...Here's me also wanting to pimp out the Primes' friends. I gave Bee wings since he doesn't have them in One, and I gave Elita some bling since she deserves something special as well. When Bee gets his cape is when he gives the bandana back to Soundwave. 2. Other Prime is definitely in charge of making sure neither him nor Optimus are late to meetings. 3. Have Zeta and Starscream together. Crackship initially but now I'm invested. I've watched One 8 times with my mom (twice in Japanese) and twice by myself--we're matching each other's crazy istg... Also the pose is based on how cozy @/energ00n draws Zeta Prime because have you seen the way they draw him??? He is SO pretty and gentle looking (won't tag them bc it's the second time I'm making this post). I've kept his hands white because I want y'all to be able to see their hands. I've worked too hard on them for this being a bundle of concept sketches LMAO 4. Maybe Starscream and Sentinel used to be friends at some point, then Sentinel started to change? Either way, I thought it would be interesting if Sentinel turned into a sort of "don't speak out of turn" type of meeting regulator and when Shockwave would eventually blurt out something because he thought of something as unfair... Sentinel ordered his mutilation as punishment. 5. Speaking of, I decided to make Shockwave look like his SG self but with a little bit of red so him and Soundwave match like they did in SG!!! 6. If you've read my memo on the concept page, ignore the comment about just Other Prime being considered conventionally attractive. Both Primes probably are but I'd like to think that magazines with Other Prime on the cover run out faster than ones with Optimus on them. Something about his big build contrasting his pretty face, maybe! 7. I'm still having trouble designing the Primes and their friends alsdjkfajslkdfj;;; I want the balance of the gold to be good and not overdone like Sentinel so I'm trying my hardest to bling them out as softly as possible. The location of the gold on Other Prime's helmet and the amount of embellishment regarding Optimus are points I'm having trouble with;;

⚠️Deja vu warning!⚠️

Concepts #3~#10 are all drawings I've uploaded before, but I deleted the original post because it was an intimidating wall of text lmao. So, I've decided to repost all of my drawings but separately, because I want to show the concept sketches(?) I worked on in between breaks from doing schoolwork.

(Also because I want to post my own art but I can't since I'm recording music rn)

[emberdragon34]

Exiled - An angsty Permit Office Convex oneshot

Spoilers for Cub and Grian's latest videos!

I was sad about events so I decided to write angst.

I think it just made me even sadder.

GoodTimeWithScar whispered to you: Cub we need to talk

GoodTimeWithScar whispered to you: at comfort room

You whispered to GoodTimeWithScar: coming

I look over from building my house in exile. It’s the day after I arrived here. Honestly, I expected this message sooner. I knew Scar would be upset by my decision. I knew he’d want to confront me about it. But it’s still hard to stomach. With a deep breath, I tidy up my blocks and take to the air towards spawn. The sound of Scar’s calming recordings reaches me as I land outside. He’s here, alright. I slow down, trying to keep my emotions in line as I enter the building, all the way through to the comfort room. I pause just inside. Scar’s there, sat hunched on the couch, staring off into the distance, listening to his own comfort tapes. My heart sinks and twists with guilt. I knock on the wall.

‘Hey,’ I say. He pauses the recording, turning to face me. It’s clear he’s been crying. He probably hasn't slept either. 

‘Why did you do this, Cub?’ Scar whispers. ‘Why?’

‘You know why,’ I reply. I try to keep looking at him, but his expression is too upset, too betrayed. I glance at the ground. ‘You felt their influence growing too. I couldn't put the server in danger.’

‘We can control them, though.’ Scar slips from the couch, stepping closer. ‘There’s the Safe Room below the Permit Office.’

‘We chased Joe across the server for 5 hours in mindless bloodlust.’

Scar doesn't reply. He’s on the verge of crying again.

‘No one was hurt.’

‘That’s not an excuse.’

Scar’s silent again. Another small step closer. 

‘What if I need you?’

‘You can come to exile…?’ It’s a terrible answer. We know it’s a terrible answer. We know it’ll do nothing when Scar wakes up mid-panic attack after a nightmare about Secret Life. The nightmares that have only grown more frequent with this exile threat. ‘Look, man, I’m sorry. But imagine what would happen if they took control while we were hunting No Poe. Or- or made us hurt Skizz and Grian to ensure their loyalty or some shit. It’s almost happened already. I couldn't risk it. I had to leave, and do it before they tried to stop me.’ I fall silent, just before I start crying. Part of me screams for doing this. Part of me hates myself for leaving.

‘Oh Cub…’ Scar steps even closer, close enough to run a hand through my hair. I place mine on his cheek, wiping away his tears.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Surely there were other options…’

‘It would’ve taken too long to find them. The Vex were out for blood. I can hide out here and cause harmless chaos. You can stay with Grian and Skizz and stop Beef and Joe.’

‘I want to be with you, Cub.’

‘I’m sorry, man.’

‘It’s not the same with Skizz or Grian. They're great, but Skizz doesn't know what I've gone through and Grian’s gonna blame me and laugh at me for messing up like he always does,’ Scar’s about to cry. His expression haunts me. I can't find a reply. I can't make this better. I desperately try not to start sobbing.

‘I knew I shouldn't have taken the roll of Permit Manager,’ I mutter, vision blurring with my own tears. ‘I knew they were always going to get involved.’

‘Don’t say that…’

‘You know it’s true, Scar,’ I look up at him. ‘The Vex were always going to jump at a chance for power. And get upset when people question it.’

‘It’s not fair!’ Scar bursts out. ‘It’s not fair that they’re always just…’

He starts sobbing. I pull him into a tight hug. Scar hugs back, just crying into my shoulder.

‘I know,’ I murmur. The pit of guilt in my stomach only grows. ‘I know…’

‘When will this end, Cub?’

‘I don't know.’

‘I just want to build my zoo, and hang out, and play Hungry Hermits and TCG, and not have to worry about spawn being 30 million blocks away,’ A pause. ‘About you being 30 million fucking blocks away…’

‘I’m sorry,’ is the only reply I have.

‘Stop saying that.’ mutters back Scar. ‘It’s not your fault. It’s the stupid vex that forced your hand.’

Silence. My mind struggles through options to help Scar, make anything right, comfort him.

‘How long do you have here before returning?’ I land on.

‘Tomorrow morning.’

‘Well… all my spacey bits were in my ender chest. And it’s a clear night…’ Scar knows what I’m implying.

‘Are there any good spots around here?’

‘I’m sure we could find somewhere. If you wanted to.’

‘Yeah.’ Scar snuffles back a sob. ‘Yeah, I’d like that.’

We step from the hug. Tears still run down Scar’s face.

‘Should we go now?’ he asks.

‘Yeah, yeah. The sun'll be going down soon…’ I leave the room, Scar following silently. It’s a short flight to an appropriate mountain. The setting up of our stuff is bittersweet, far slower than usual. Neither of us want this to end. Scar barely speaks. I can tell he’s fighting tears the whole time, as we sit down together, cuddled up in a blanket, staring up at the stars. With so little light pollution, they're incredible. I smile.

‘You know what I love about space?’ I murmur. Scar glances over.

‘What?’

‘That no matter where you are, whatever world, however far away you are, the night sky stay the same. The days will pass the same, the constellations are still the same, the science is the same.’

‘Even 30 million blocks away?’ Scar asks.

‘Even 30 million blocks away.’

I think he smiles at that, hugging closer. Before shifting position, moving his untouched plate of cake closer to me.

‘Do you want some? I don't have the appetite for it.’

‘No appetite for cake, man?!’

‘Well, I’m sorry! We’re gonna be 30 million blocks apart from each other for weeks. Of course I’m feeling bad!’ It was supposed to come across humorously. But it doesn't. Scar falls silent again. His tears shine in the moonlight. ‘Notch, I’m gonna miss you.’

‘You can visit every day.’

‘Not if I’m to be keeping up Poe duties for Grian. Hunting down Joe and Beef. I won't get to see you, Cub. We can't hang out, and all because the stupid Vex…’

‘Honestly, we needed some more Permit action over here anyway. It was too cozy,’ I admit.

‘Too many fish religions,’ Scar replies. We manage to laugh at that.

‘Indeed.’

Scar yawns. He rests his head in my lap, still staring at the sky.

‘Try get some rest. I know you haven't slept,’ I suggest, running a hand through his hair.

‘If I fall asleep, I’ll miss dawn. We won't get to say goodbye properly.’

‘Then we can do it now.’ The words don’t want to come. ‘Goodbye, Scar.’

‘Bye Cub.’

‘Go exile Joe for me.’

‘I will. You make sure he has the worst welcome in the history of welcomes.’

‘Oh, don't worry about that, man. Don't you worry…’

Scar laughs, a sound I’m going to miss.

‘And I’ll visit whenever I can.’

‘You’d better… and watch my base for me. I don't want anyone touching my diamonds.’

‘On it, Permit Manager Cub!’

‘That’s what I like to hear. And find that blackstone permit, Scar.’

‘Hmm… what?’ Scar feigns ignorance. I sigh, amused.

‘Never mind.’

We fall silent again, still looking up at the sky, until I drift asleep, holding Scar close.

And wake up on my own.

[crocodile-tears-and-a-dream]

a series of unfortunate confessions

summary: after trying to confess to your crush countless times, you finally decided to give up. but then...

pairing: shoto todoroki x reader

warnings: fluff, todoroki is a bit dense, reader is worse than marinette from miraculous

word count: 1.7k

a/n: this was dumb

you had been crushing on todoroki for months now. the way his hair split perfectly down the middle, the quiet, almost shy way he smiled—everything about him made your heart race. but you were determined that today was going to be the day. no more pretending. no more overthinking. you were finally going to tell him how you felt.

“i like you. would you like to go out with me?” you rehearsed the line in your head for what felt like the thousandth time as you walked down the hallway toward his usual spot, leaning against the lockers. he was standing there, looking as cool and composed as ever—like he didn’t even realize how much you adored him.

you stopped in front of him, inhaling deeply, straightening your back. this is it.

“hey, todoroki,” you said, trying to sound calm, your voice shaking slightly despite your efforts. “i need to tell you something.”

he glanced at you, tilting his head slightly. “what’s up?”

you took a deep breath. i got this!

you stepped forward with newfound confidence, but why would anything go your way. you tripped over absolutely nothing and into his arms. except this wasn’t a kdrama, and now the only thing left for you to do is to dig 6 feet down from where you stand. the snickers of passing by students did nothing to aid your embarrassment.

“are you ok?” he asked, caring as ever. his stupid, perfect face looking at you with concern and his perfect voice, the way his eyes…

and you’ve been staring for 5 minutes.

you scrambled to your feet, cheeks bright red. “oh yeah i’m great! awesome sauce even..”

“awesome sauce?” the boy repeats after you.

smooth. real smooth. you stand there planning your funeral until he interrupts again.

“-you wanted to say something?” he reminds you.

“oh yeah i wanted to say that i uh- i really like… your hair!”

you stand there shifting awkwardly forgetting how to stand like a normal person.

todoroki blinked, obviously confused. “uh… thanks. i like your shirt?”

your stomach twisted in embarrassment. this wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all.

the best part about texting was the fact that you could sit in front of your phone and reread the text you had typed out for hours before sending it.

the plan was simple really. just text him.

unfortunately you just had to find a way to mess this one up too.

...you pause, wondering if this is a bad idea. but you’re already typing.

“hey todoroki, i need to tell you something important…”

you stared at the screen for a while, reading it over and over. no, that’s too formal. you’re not texting a business partner. so, you deleted it and typed again:

i like you. i really do. please go out with me.

after a second of hesitation, you hit send and put the phone down, avoiding looking at it for a solid minute. you were such an idiot. he was probably going to think you were weird and pushy. you probably ruined everything.

your phone buzzed, and your heart skipped too many beats.

you picked it up and stared at the message, expecting something dramatic.

the message was short and simple.

milk?

you blinked at the screen, unable to comprehend what had just happened. you looked at the message again. did you send the wrong one? no. no, this was his response.

what? you typed, feeling a wave of panic wash over you.

todoroki replied even more confused, the note… it’s a grocery list.

your eyes widened in realization. you had mixed up your heartfelt confession with the grocery list you’d written earlier in the day. how could you mess that up?! you quickly texted back:

omg, i’m so sorry!! that was the wrong message. ignore it. i’m dumb.

you groaned, burying your face in your pillow.

his reply came a few minutes later. it’s okay. you don’t need to explain yourself.

you were officially a colossal failure.

attempt #3 was the worst of them all. you had enough of awkward moments and embarrassing mishaps. this time, you weren’t going to let anything stop you. you had prepared yourself, stood in front of him with determination, and blurted out, “i like you!” without thinking.

for a long, agonizing second, todoroki stared at you, his expression unreadable. then he blinked, looking a little puzzled. “oh. you like… my shoes?”

your eyes went wide, and you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. “no! i mean… yes, your shoes are great, but—”

“oh, thanks. i got them on sale.” he smiled slightly. “glad you like them.”

you felt like your entire world was crashing down around you. this was not happening.

you had tried. god, had you tried.

you tried in the hallway. you tried over text. you tried to his stupid, perfect, beautiful face.

and yet, every single time, the universe seemed determined to humble you. at this point, it was personal. you were convinced fate itself was standing in the corner, with a bucket of popcorn, watching you struggle for its own amusement.

so, you did the only thing that made sense. you gave up.

no more stammering, no more overthinking. you couldn’t possibly mess up if you just did not try.

so when todoroki asked you to meet him after class, you weren’t expecting much. maybe he’d ask about homework, maybe he’d comment on the weather—maybe he was about to tell you your latest confession attempt was so bad he had secondhand embarrassment and that if he was you, he'd leave the country.

what you were not expecting was for him to sit next to you, stare straight ahead, and say—

“i like you.”

…

huh?

you blinked. once. twice. a third for good measure, but he was still sitting there, looking completely unbothered, like he hadn’t just shattered the fabric of your entire existence.

“you…” you struggled to form a coherent thought. “you what?”

“i like you,” he repeated. casual. effortless. like it wasn’t a big deal. like it wasn’t something you had been agonizing over for months.

you stared at him. he waited.

todoroki was a patient guy, but even he eventually raised an eyebrow. “you’re not saying anything.”

oh. right.

you took a deep breath, attempting to restart your system. “you like me?”

“yes.”

“like… like like?”

todoroki blinked, tilting his head slightly. “would i have said it if i didn’t mean it?”

you just sat there. completely, utterly stunned.

this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. you were supposed to confess first. you were supposed to have a moment. and yet, here you were—your grand plan ripped away from you before you could even execute it.

you slowly turned to him, eyes squinting. “so you’re telling me… that the whole time i was struggling to confess, you were just sitting there? watching?”

“i had a suspicion,” he admitted, completely unfazed.

oh, you wanted to scream.

you buried your face in your hands. “i can’t believe i spent all this time embarrassing myself, and you knew.”

“i didn’t know for sure,” he said, like that was supposed to make you feel better. “but i figured you’d never actually say it at this rate.”

the audacity. the nerve. you lifted your head, ready to argue—except when you saw him looking at you, amusement barely visible at the corners of his lips, all the fight drained right out of you.

because he liked you.

shoto todoroki liked you.

and somehow, despite all the chaos, despite every failed attempt, despite how absolutely stupid this entire journey had been—

this was perfect.

even if you had no clue what to do now.

[sabraeal]

at home with the glass half empty, Part 2

[Read on AO3]

Sunlight already spills through the blinds when Gojo’s ringtone rattles across his bedside table, phone millimeters away from a precipitous— and most assuredly, screen-shattering— drop. That is, before Nanami slaps a hand out, snatching its death from the jaws of fate. “This better be good.”

“Nanami-kun.” Gojo-senpai’s never breathless— not since that time he went up against Fushiguro— but he doesn’t bother to croon and that’s warning enough. “As long as you’re flexible on the definition of ‘good,’ I think we can both walk away happy on this one.”

He scrapes a hand over his face, swallowing a groan. “Might I remind you, this is my day off.”

“I’m afraid the cursed spirits didn’t get the memo.” Gojo-senpai laughs. Not that fake one he does to play at being normal, fooling no one but his students, but the other kind— the harsher one that scrapes up from his throat when he’s winning. Coupled with the crack in the background, like a felled tree— no, telephone pole, Nanami realizes— threatening to fall, he can take a guess at what his senpai has gotten up to in the twelve hours since he’s last seen him. “No rest for the wicked and all that.”

There’s no effort in sitting up in bed, in pinching his nose and letting the air rush through his teeth, but that doesn’t change the fact that Nanami doesn’t want to do any of it. “Are you fighting it right now?”

“Well, I asked if it’d give me a moment to make a call” — there’s another crash, metallic this time, and he can only hope it’s a mailbox or vending machine and not some car— “but it didn’t seem amenable.”

Nanami stifles a sigh, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress, the chill of the floor seeping up through his heels. “Where are you?”

“Close. Just down the street really.” No time for coffee then, not even to fortify him against whatever bullshit Gojo-senpai is choosing to play close to his chest. “I’ll send you my location. I’ve got another guy meeting us there. Now, gotta go! I think this next bit might take two hands.”

“But—” The call cuts out with a swift click, the duration flashing across the screen —1:20— before it goes dark, leaving him with only thin strips of sunlight leaving tiger stripes across his covers.

He should have known better, really. Nearly a year and a half back in this world, and it’s the same as it had been when he was in school: last minute, frantic, no information, no questions. His phone rumbles in his hand— Gojo’s email, the only contents a set of geo coordinates. Two blocks away, as promised. A relief, since the last time senpai informed him a hunt was ‘just down the street’, it was on the other side of Shibuya.

A man his age shouldn’t creak getting out of bed, but after yesterday’s hard landing— two flights down onto a fire escape that would have held his weight in high school, but as an adult, decided to squeal and groan and unceremoniously give out over the dumpster below— everything from his shoulders down is shot. If he’d known he wouldn’t have his requisite forty-eight hour recovery period, he would have let Ieiri-sensei look at him. Now he’ll have to settle for only fixing the problems a hot shower can solve.

Halfway through his trudge to the bathroom, memory niggles at him, and his frown furrows deeper into the sharp planes of his face. “’Another guy?’”

*

“H-hold up there, Kento-san.” Takuma’s all wide eyes beneath the edge of his mask, hands held up like he has any chance of holding another grown man’s weight. Trust Gojo-senpai to mention arranging backup and have it be some child, barely graduated and still smelling of spring. “Are you sure you can handle getting up to your place all by yourself? I mean, I could always—”

“It has an elevator.” A dubious eye inspects where his hand presses to his side, bright red staining pale blue. “I can make it across the lobby. This is hardly the worst injury I’ve ever gotten, Takuma-kun.”

At least the child isn’t still wearing his school uniform. Unlike some actual grown men Nanami has the displeasure of associating with. “Shouldn’t you have Ieiri-sensei take a look? Gojo-sen— er, Gojo-san said that you had a bit of a spill yesterday too.”

Funny, he hadn’t seemed too concerned with it at the time. Perhaps he had been too busy yucking it up to pass on his condolences. “I have a perfectly serviceable set of bandages in my apartment. Ieiri-sensei has more than enough on her plate, she doesn’t need to be dealing with a little scrape like this.”

“Scrape?” Takuma squints into his wince. “That thing looks like it’ll need stitches at least.”

Good thing he’d taught himself to do them back in first year. One could only wonder what they were teaching the children now if even a cut like this had them scrambling to see someone with the reverse curse technique. “I’ll handle it. Now, make sure you have someone look at that head of yours. Concussions may not present obvious symptoms at first, but they can pose quite serious problems if untreated.”

“Are you kidding me?” the kid huffs as Nanami turns toward the doors, arms thrown up in the air. “You’re bleeding out over there, but I get a tap on the head, and you think I should see a doctor?”

“You’re a promising sorcerer, Takuma-kun.” An understatement; barely a few months out of school and he’d managed to acquit himself well in a fight that had taxed even Nanami’s reserves. Not as much of an accomplishment during work hours, he’ll admit, but if he’d been considering overtime, then the spirit was no slouch. “It would be a pity for you to be taken out of the fight by a simple mistake.”

Air hisses through the boy’s teeth, and in the reflective glass of the door, Nanami sees him shake his head. “You’re really something else, Kento-san.”

“Trust me,” he croaks, hooking the handle with his free hand. “I know.”

*

The classic location to stitch up wounds is the bathroom, perched on the edge of the tub while the easily bleached white porcelain accepts the brunt of the bleeding. But trading down from a stockbroker to a sorcerer’s salary had necessitated the removal of a few everyday luxuries of his last apartment, one of them being the soaking tub. So between balancing his sewing kit on the sink crushed between shower and toilet, and a flat and clean countertop, it’s the kitchen that wins out as his makeshift emergency ward.

A mistake, since even as he strings the sutures from flesh to ragged flesh, the muscles of his abdomen clenching from the sting, he sees it— that wrinkled scrap of white visible no matter what angle he approaches his morning coffee. It mocks him from its place on the counter; his scarlet letter, a badge of shame, the physical proof of his wavering resolve; an accusation and a condemnation all at once.

Sayo, the characters still read, not a single stroke of it or the number beneath the slightest bit smudged. How could it be, when it hadn’t managed to stay in the bin long enough for him to finish his jambon-beurre? He winces, not from the sensation of string sliding through skin, but his own lack of discipline. How many excuses had he found to walk past it that night? Just a glass of water this time. Then a perusal of condiments, wondering if his dinner might need any, only to decide— three times!— that no improvements were possible on such perfection. Followed by a foray for the proper side dish for a sandwich of that caliber.

He cannot recall the exact instance that he plucked it from its resting place, only that one moment it was canted on its paper bag, destined for the municipal dump, and the next it was cradled in his hand. Foolish for him to set it up like that, as if it were an idol on a shrine; his countertop a poor excuse for an altar. Even more foolish still to have rescued it at all.

It’s a crutch, he knows; proof that there’s another world out there, one he could be part of if he so chose. A place he could possibly escape to, so long as he turned a blind eye to the grotesques that slithered around every corner, ignoring every monstrous curse that clung to a smiling stranger. A simple task to put his back to the single evil that he could change and mindlessly participate in worsening the rest.

There’s no point in keeping it. He tried that once; staying away, being normal. Exchanging endless existential dread for the everyday concerns of status and reputation and making ends meet. Focusing his attention on the money he could make rather than the curses he could dispatch. Sorcerers rarely made it to retirement, and Nanami wanted to to have the chance at a life, at a family, at something that might pass for love. To travel, to see more of the world than the darkest places in Japan, tearing evil out by the root. To see forty, and the crows feet it might bring.

He’d had so many plans that day he’d left, so many hopes. And all he had done in those four years was make rich men richer.

One day, when he’s been run through and wrung out, missing limbs or eyes and no longer of use as a sorcerer at all, he might go back there. Might take that chance for a normal life. But— he hisses, skin pulling tight as he knots the gut— it won’t be any time soon.

And yet. Yet.

*

It’s not about the girl, he decides as the bell chimes above his head. It’s about the fly-head; about how in twelve months, she’d had one nearly as large as the last. How it’s nearly been five months now— no, six— and she might have another just as big. It’s not common for curses to act like that, to keep clinging even once they’re exorcised. For someone to keep attracting them, even once cleansed.

There’s something going on, is all. A reason for fly-head after fly-head to keep chittering in her ear, nibbling the shine off her smile. And if he can fix it, well—

Then he can stop wondering about it. One day off is a fair price for his peace of mind, even if his side twinges with every sway of the metro. Even standing here, lost among the tables and chairs, takes a kind of stamina, though with the way one of the cashiers looks at him— a quick once over from the broguing on his wingtips to the sleek shape of his hairline— he’s wondering if that particular anguish is less physical and more…social.

There’s no rush at the moment; just as he planned. It’d been tempting to come as soon as it opened, to disappear into the rush of salarymen looking for morning coffees and warm breakfast sandwiches, but the thought of surviving those mindless drones and their jostling elbows makes him suppress a shudder, even now. And in any case, it would be easier to assess the progress of any curse without a line of hungry customers between him and the baker. Or at least it would, if she were manning the counter. Which she isn’t today, it seems.

Ridiculous. This little side trip ended up futile as he knew it would be. He came all the way here— even crossed through Shibuya— only to be fouled up by a concept so simple as shift work. Typical.

The other cashier at the counter glances up, catching their co-worker’s inattention. It’s strange to see a diligent employee from this angle; the way her brows furrow and her cheeks puff, exasperation in every ounce of her sigh. In the way her mouth rounds, ready to call out, when—

When she lets her gaze slip from them to the object of their attention. The one standing at the back of the shop. Namely, him.

Ah, yes. This was definitely a mistake.

Her eyes widen, and she digs an elbow into her co-worker’s side, earning herself a startled glance. There’s some sort of miming— something around her neck, and then a hand shot up high in the air, and the other girl nods, scurrying to the back. A curious occurrence, but not one he has any reason to bother himself with.

At least, not until the baker emerges from the kitchen, sans beret this time, head swiveling like one of her displays.

“It’s you!” Clouds must part somewhere beyond the bakery windows; there is no other reason for the girl’s face to brighten so much between one breath in the next. A soft clap brings her hands together, every pore of her far more pleased than he can account for. “Just give me one minute, I’ll…”

She edges around the counter, back to him as she bends over a case, the white line of her shoulders bared to him— and there it is, that same damn curse, small and larval, one of its tendrils curled around the curve of her neck. Obnoxious, that’s what it is. Tenacious. He might respect it, if it was anything but a mindless manifestation of the world’s misery and malaise.

As it is, he can only think of the movements to exorcise it; the precise methods he might use to keep another of its kind from gaining traction again—

“Here.” A white bag hangs in front of him, her smile peeking around the edge of it. “Your casse-croute. On the house.”

“I…” The paper settles into his hands, awkwardly cradled between his palms. It’s a jambon-beurre, he wants to say, or, it’s pronounced casse-croûte, but he can’t manage it over the ringing in his ears, an alarm set off from far away. “I haven’t even ordered anything…”

“I told you, didn’t I?” She rocks on her toes, just once, her smile stretched wide. “I keep one ready,  hoping you’ll drop by.”

That’s not quite the way she put it before, he’s sure, but with Gojo’s finger pressed to a temple, he couldn’t say why. “Oh. Thank you.”

“I don’t know what it is you do with your hands or whatever, but” —she rotates her shoulders, one after the other, a fine display of physical fitness— “I can’t complain with the results. My neck feels wonderful after you’re done. A sandwich is the least I can do.”

There’s far, far less she could be doing— that most people do, whether they mean to or not— but that’s not what he says. No, instead he catches that little tail of her curse lashing from the corner of his eye, and asks, “And how are you doing now?”

That gets a blink out of her, a recoil that drives her one step back. A much safer distance, in his opinion. “Excuse me?

“You’re all right, aren’t you?” He’s too large a man to follow her forward or even bend down in inquiry; he knows all too well how intimidating all hundred and eighty-four of his centimeters will be to a girl her size. He’d gotten more than his fair share of kicks aimed at his shins-- courtesy of his much more…vertically challenged senpai--before he’d learned that fact for good. “Feeling well? Sleeping well? Nothing—?”

The bell jingles behind him, and Nanami steps aside as a customer elbows past, eyes reserved solely for the chalkboard hung on the brickwork.

“I’m doing fine,” she murmurs, absent, attention drawn to where the customer stops just short of the till, shooting out his order rapid-fire as her employee keyed it into the cash register. With a shake, she turns back to him. “I supposed I can’t really complain. I mean, except for this little twinge—”

Her fingers brush over the joint between neck and shoulder— right where that little bastard curls his tendril tighter, siphoning off a sip of her pain— and then skitter away, knocked askew by the next customer through the door. At least this one mutters an apology before they skirt past, bobbing a bow as their companion comes around the other side, asking, “Have you tried the sandwiches here? I’ve heard they’re to die for.”

“Ah, sorry.” The baker wrings her hands as another glut of customers traipse through the doors, louder this time, debating their orders only a few steps away. “I guess the lunch rush is starting early today. If you don’t mind, I could just—”

“Don’t worry.” He raises a hand to ward off her apologies, shaking his head. “I’ve taken too much of your time already.”

“No, I—”

“Thank you again for the sandwich.” He holds up the bag, offering her a faint smile. It’s the least he can do, when she’s already been so kind. “I can just—”

“Wait!” Fingers brush over his sleeve, dimpling 100% cotton but flinching away before they can meet the more solid barrier of his flesh. “Ah, I just thought…after the rush, I can have someone watch the till. And maybe” — she glances up at him, eyes far too wide, too hopeful to be aimed at him— “I could take you to dinner? As a thank you, I mean.”

He blinks. “It’s lunch.”

“Oh!” Her hand claps to her cheek, the pink blooming there all the more obvious for it. “Right, of course. How silly of me. But maybe I could, um…”

Both their eyes drop to the bag clutched in his hand, still hanging between them. “You already gave me mine,” he reminds her, gently.

“Right, of course I did. But I mean…” She grimaces, gaze darting to the windows. “Coffee? Not here. But, um, elsewhere?”

You’ve got to watch out for women, Nanami-kun. Even now he remembers how Gojo-senpai’s glasses glinted under the summer sun, the slant of his grin hiding an edge while Geto-senpai shook his head. They’re always trying to get you to a secondary location.

What for? Nanami had asked, only fifteen and already suspicious of the advice his senpai doled out with the same enthusiasm creepy old men on street corners did candy.

One long, pale finger pressed to his lips. I’ll tell you when you’re older.

Ridiculous to think of it now, when this baker is only wanting to thank him. When his only reason for accepting is to understand how to rid her of that stupid fly-head once and for all.

It chitters on her shoulder, bug eyes cocking, curious. As if it could sense even a fraction of his malevolent intention. As if it were just becoming cognizant enough to realize he might be an enemy.

“I suppose…” The words ring out in too high a register, and he clears his throat. “Coffee would be nice.”

*

“I’m sorry to make you wait.” The baker is flushed when she hurries out to meet him, tossing a warning glare through the glass doors at the two cashiers waving them off. “I never thought it would last that long!”

Without the red beret and chef’s coat, she might well be a stranger, the sort he might pass on the station platform without even a second glance. Perhaps he has before, eyes only drawn for a moment by the fluttering of her hair— so different now that she’s released it from the care of its holder— before he let them slip away. “It was no trouble at all.”

“It was an hour and a half,” she laughs, shaking her head. “Honestly, you’d think if the rush started early, it’d have the decency to end early. But at least we don’t have far to go— the café’s just around the corner.”

“So close?” He’s not sure about the wisdom of eating at the competition, but the question doesn’t make her skip a step, even though she takes two to three for every one of his, no matter how he tries to slow his pace. “That seems like a…conflict of interest.”

“Oh, no, not at all. They have a metro stop right on the other side of this street, so they get customers from that station, and we get ours from the one right outside, so it’s just like…ships passing in the night, or whatever. But I come here sometimes when I get tired of the coffee we make.”

He blinks down at her, tracing the haphazard line of her part. For as much care as she’s taken to straighten her clothes, it seems letting her hair down had been a last minute decision, a few strands falling astray. “You get tired of your coffee?”

“Not really,” she admits, slanting a smile up at him. “But it’s good to get away sometimes. Put a little distance between me and my work, if you know what I mean.”

Nanami lets his mouth hook at a corner. “I think I do.”

Her breath catches, right before her eyes slip away, catching on a chalk sign board. “Ah, um, here it is. Do you mind sitting outside? It’s nice today.”

It is— warm enough that when he slings his jacket over the back of his chair, the breeze is still pleasant. Summer hasn’t quite arrived, but its perfume unfurls over the city, enticing its denizens to linger, to let the sun wash over them for just a few minutes longer each day.

He lets his eyes shutter, just for a moment, wind running its fingers through his hair. “This is quite nice.”

“Isn’t it?” The baker— ah, Sayo, he supposes, at least with her out of uniform— slides into the seat across from him, propping her chin up with a hand. “Our sandwiches are better, that’s for sure, but I wish we had the square footage for an outdoor space like this. I’d need another full employee to bus those tables, but— ah, just ignore me! I didn’t bring you here to complain about business stuff.”

“It’s quite alright.” Better, actually, since it gives him the excuse to segue into, “You were saying your neck was getting tight again?”

“Well, yeah, it’s getting that way lately, right up around— ah, no wait!” The hand she’d lifted to her neck falls onto her cheek instead, covering an embarrassed giggle. “I’m taking you out to thank you! Not to fish for, er, well…”

“It hadn’t crossed my mind,” he assures her, letting his mouth curve into a softer shape. “But I’m happy to know that I’ve been able to help, at least a little.”

“More than little!” she insists with a laugh. “I don’t know what it is you do, but I even sleep better after. Better than any massage I’ve ever gotten!”

“Glad to hear it.” If only glares could exorcise curses, the fly-head on her shoulder would already be withered, just black energy flaking off in the breeze. But instead it just wriggles its eye stalks at him, undaunted. “But it is getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Oh, well, maybe just a twinge here and there.” Even as she waves him off, her hand lifts, working at that joint where the fly-head sits, eating his fill. “You know, the regular amount of stress.”

“Really.” Nanami leans over the table, attentive, the fly-head quivering under his stare. “Or would you say you have more than the usual amount of stress? More…complex problems?”

“What?” Her mouth hooks, rueful. “You mean aside from all the regular problems of running a bakery?”

“Oh.” He blinks, settling back. That’s right; she owns a business. Not in itself enough to spawn these little pests, but possibly a contributing factor. “Of course, that must be difficult. You seem to be doing so well, I hadn’t even considered…”

“Very well,” she informs him with no little pride. “But you know how it is. There’s always a machine that’s breaking or a dough that doesn’t rise right, or a batch that comes out wrong. The nature of the beast, or whatever.” She shrugs, unruffled. “I’m just lucky that it was doing so well when I took over. Keeping an already profitable business in the black is a heck of a lot easier than trying to drag one out of the red. Or worse, starting one from scratch!”

His brows raise, appraising her. “It wasn’t your business to start? So you bought it off the former—?”

“Oh, no no no.” She waves a hand, laughing. “No way, I could have never afforded something like that. It used to be my parents’— my mother’s really. But she died while I was in uni, so I picked up a few shifts around the place to help my dad out. But then he got sick a few years back, and…”

She strives for casual when she shrugs, but he can see the jagged edges in it, the places where a little fly-headed bastard could really stick its proboscis in and cause trouble. “My younger brother’s at university now, trying to be some sort of engineer. With Mom gone and Dad pretty much retired, someone has to make the money to get him through the rest of his degree. And that’s not even talking about Dad’s treatment…”

“That’s a lot for someone your age.” And would certainly explain how these curses keep glutting themselves on her the second he turns his back.

“Oh!” Her laugh is softer this time, accompanied by a delicate flush across her cheeks. “I’m not…I’m not that young.”

Nanami cocks his head, mouth flirting with a frown. “You’re younger than me, clearly.”

“Maybe. I’m twenty-seven.” She sighs over her coffee, chin in hand. “You know, my grandmother likes to remind me she was married at my age. With three kids! I’m lucky to keep a plant alive.”

He doesn’t realize his mouth is open until he closes it to swallow his, “Ah…”

“What?” Her head tilts, playful. “Can’t believe it? I know, everyone says I have a babyface.”

“No, it’s not that. I mean, you do have a very youthful face.” He wouldn’t have placed her above twenty-two, and even then, it would have been a stretch— but that’s not why he clears his throat, his own face suddenly hot. “It’s just…I’m twenty-five.”

“Oh!” It’s her turn for her eyes to go wide, for her own jaw to slacken in disbelief. “You’re a baby!”

A scowl slips out of him before he thinks to suppress it. “Only two years younger.”

“You’re almost my brother’s age.” A corner of her mouth twitches; she ducks her chin to hide it. A futile exercise when he can already see the way her shoulders shiver. “Practically in the cradle.”

“I think,” he says, testing out each teasing step of his tone as if it might give out beneath him. “You’d be hard pressed to find one that would fit me.”

Her gaze cuts across the straight line of his shoulders. “That’s for sure.”

They both take a sip of their coffee— regular for him, two creams, no sugar, and hers some a latte of some sort, the pattern in the cup long since gone. He’d been too distracted to even look at what it was. Strange; it was the sort of detail he liked to note in the coffee shops he visited. A good artist usually denoted a high quality café, and if there was one thing his former life had shown him, it was that every bit of luxury was well-worth the price you paid for it.

“It’s funny.” She’s quieter now, more thoughtful as she speaks. Slower, even, as if she’s savoring the taste. Or perhaps the moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone about this sort of stuff. You know, my mom, my dad. Daisuke’s tuition. Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve really talked to anyone since my mom died. Not about real stuff.”

He hums, sipping at his drink. The bitterness floods his mouth; an apt flavor for when he says, “It’s hard to talk about grief with those that haven’t experienced it.”

Sayo glances up at him. “Have you?”

It’s impossible not to remember Haibara and his quick laugh, the boyish face that never missed a chance to smirk or smile. Boyish— ha, of course. He’d never had the chance to be anything but. Right at the cusp of manhood, plucked from the precipice before he could fall over it. Hardly the only friend he'd lost during those years, just...the first. The hardest.

“Yes.” He clears his throat, blinking away the sting in his eyes. “You could say that.”

She’s quiet for a moment, contemplating her cup. “Does it ever get easier, do you think? Carrying it around like this?”

“I think it only gets different.” Easier to forget about in the moment, at least, but perhaps that’s because Haibara was a only friend, not family, and certainly not...something more complicated. Just someone he knew for a few brief years in his life. “But it’s easier when you talk to people who have suffered in the same way. Harder to find, but they are here, if you look.”

Her head tilts, her mouth matching its angle. “Like you.”

Ah, that was foolish of him. Here he is trying to close the door on this world, and he's gone and practically held it open for her to slip through. “I don’t think that’s….”

His tongue trips over itself, tangling as his gaze darts somewhere, anywhere but her eyes and finds— the fly-head. Significantly smaller now, chittering angrily.

“I suppose,” he sighs, wearily. “If you need too.”

“Then we should exchange contacts, shouldn’t we?” She plucks her phone from her purse, giving it a cheeky little wave. It’d be charming, if he didn’t know what a terrible idea this would be. “If we’re going to talk, that is.”

“Of course.” He slides his own out of his pocket, passing it over hers until it beeps. Hamasaki, it reads, Sayo.

“Oh, Nanami!”

A shivers shoots up the length of his spine before fizzling out to his fingers. “Excuse me?”

“Ah, I mean, that’s your name, Kento-san. Kento Nanami-san,” she says, mouth hidden behind her hand. “I just thought it was funny because I’m, well, Sayo.”

He could hardly forget it, the way that paper had haunted him the past few months. “I know.”

“Oh, right, you would have already…” Her cheeks flare a brighter red. “I just thought it was interesting, since the characters of your name are seven and sea, and mine is…”

He blinks, the meaning suddenly resolving in the single character. “Sand.”

“Right.” Her mouth splits wide, into a smile that takes the breath right from his lungs. “We go together, don’t we?”

“I…” It’s terrible how nice that sounds. A coincidence meant for a better man than him. “I should really go.”

“Oh, right! I’m sure my employees will be wondering where I’ve gone off to.” She shakes her head. “Well, anyway, thank you for talking to me, Kento-san. It was…nice.”

It was. Nice. Normal. That’s half the problem. She begins to stand, and before he can stop himself, Nanami blurts out, “Wait. One more thing, if you don’t mind.”

She blinks at him, wide eyed. Too hopeful, once again. “Sure.”

His hand sweeps over her shoulder; a solid, unbroken line. The simplest spell in his repertoire, the first he ever learned. The knit of her sweater tickles the pads of his fingers-- too close, he realizes, sloppy-- and he can't tell whether it's that or the worm's collapse that causes the static to rush through them, both numb and too sensitive all at once. He draws back, arm dropping to his side, and Hamasaki-san—

She’s flushed, breath rattling out of her with noticeable effort.

“There was something on your sweater.” It’s not quite a lie, but still. “Have a good afternoon.”

“R-right,” she murmurs, just barely audible as he strides past. But it’s him that stutters to a stop when she calls out to him on the street, bouncing on her toes as she promises, “Don't forget! I’ll be keeping a sandwich in the case for you.”

[backpackingspace]

Okay no idea if tattoo's were a thing in ancient greece but regardless imagine penelope and odysseus having an olive branch tattoo around their hands that connects when they hold hands.

[mercless]

🗡 mad cowboy disease....

[unnonexistence]

inspiration on that new silly one-shot fic ran out but luckily writing is still Going

[threewaywithdelusion]

I wish more people liked Canon Nicky. Like yeah, he sucks a little bit, but that’s the point.

All the Foxes suck a little bit. They’re not perfect victims, they use slurs, they do bad things to each other. Seth’s a selfish homophobic asshole, but he saves Allison. Kevin’s a one-track-minded alcoholic who hears his teammate died and wonders how the team will keep playing, but he also gives Andrew a chance before anyone else does. Wymack’s lucky they didn’t have cancel culture in 2006, because some of the things he says are horrifically not PC. But he’s not some perfect savior of a coach. He’s a guy with a terrible past who decided to make it his life’s mission to help troubled kids. And if he gets it wrong sometime, it’s because absolutely no one in these books is 100% mentally well and they’re definitely not coming across mental health tips on TikTok or reading books about how to do better.

Nicky is terrible at boundaries and consent. It’s probably a trauma response to his upbringing and conversion therapy, but that doesn’t make it okay. He makes creepy comments all the time and he assaults Neil in Columbia.

I’m not excusing any of that. But Nicky isn’t only that, and that’s why he’s interesting.

He’s the one who texts Neil a million times a day, until Neil stops looking frightened every time his phone beeps. He gave up Erik and Germany to raise two angry teenagers who never reciprocated his affection. He had a relatively normal upbringing (religious trauma aside) and then got thrown into dealing with the twins and having to navigate 1) Andrew locking Aaron in the bathroom to get clean (is he being a good or bad guardian by letting that happen?) 2) working two jobs to pay for the house 3) Andrew being arrested 4) Andrew being put on meds that made him manic and unreliable 5) Aaron’s homophobia 6) Andrew’s violent threats and so much more.

When exactly did he find out Andrew had killed Tilda? Which of the twins told him? And did he ever wonder if Andrew would kill his newest guardian if Nicky messed up?

Nicky is incredibly selfless, brave, and patient. And he’s also pushy, kinda creepy, and incapable of understanding boundaries. He’s both. And I wish the fandom wouldn’t sanitise him, because I think that’s part of the point.

[pomefioredove]

only one bed room

summary: it's the sdc and everyone's staying over at ramshackle but, oh no! you're one room and one bed short. being the generous (or gullible) soul that you are, you agree to share characters: all sdc competitors, separate additional info: fair warning I have no replayed book 5 in a while, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, most scenarios end in cuddles. can be interpreted as romantic or platonic (nix vil and rook's part)

Deuce Spade

"I don't mind sleeping on the floor!"

it's a big fat no from Vil. waking up sore and tired is unacceptable, and will affect his performance during practice. he will use the bed, end of story.

you offer to take the floor or one of the many stiff and uncomfortable couches in Ramshackle, but he refuses

what kind of aspiring honor student would he be if he kicked you out of your own room?

so, yes, you end up sharing the bed

he's a perfect gentleman about it

he insists on sleeping on the complete opposite end of the bed

to give you your space, of course

not because he's nervous

obviously it doesn't pan out- he's kind of a messy sleeper, and on the first night you wake up with him sprawled on top of you

you decide not to wake him up

you'd been thinking about saving for a weighted blanket, anyway

Ace Trappola

"you better not hog the blankets,"

takes it like a champ, though he might be screaming internally

he already sleeps in a dorm with three other guys- this can't be any different, right?

it totally is

sharing a bed with someone? someone he likes, who he isn't just forced to live with for convenience?

he's not sure how to tease you about this one without coming off as nervous himself

so he just shuts his trap about it (for once) and accepts his fate

in the end, it's no big deal for a player like him

he ends up hogging the blankets, though. hypocrite.

Kalim al-Asim

"YAYYY SLEEPOVER!"

he means exactly what he says

not a care in the world

all he's thinking about is how fun this is going to be! just him and his favorite Ramshackle prefect (Grim heard the news and will be staying in deuce's room to avoid any cracker mishaps)

Kalim, admittedly, is not a creature of great thought. he tends to be dictated by his feelings, and he can be a little selfish sometimes

so when Jamil pulled him aside and asked him to just buy another bed for ramshackle, he ignored him entirely

why would he do that? the situation is resolved, and everyone's happy!

well... not everyone, but Kalim's happy!

he stocks up on Vil-approved snacks, insists you two braid each other's hair and stay up late into the night talking with no one to remind you to go to sleep

(he tried to invite Jamil and got the door slammed in his face)

this arrangement lasts approximately one night

when Vil sees the dark circles under your eyes, it's over

you are confined to the couch, and Kalim is forced to sleep alone

Jamil Viper

"okay,"

really. he's totally fine with it.

besides the fact that he doesn't want to cause any more trouble, he's shared beds with his siblings before. no big deal

he just wasn't expecting to wake up with you snuggled against him

but this is fine

totally fine

he's barely conscious and it's early morning, still dark, the time he's used to getting up at

Vil has things covered, right? he can stay here for a little while longer. it would be awkward trying to get up without waking you

it feels nice having something all to himself for once

he smirks, imagining how jealous everyone else would be:

the beautiful, kind, intelligent ramshackle prefect in his arms? oh, the looks on their faces would almost make this whole thing worth it!

but in the end, he decides to say nothing

he wants to keep you all to himself, after all

for just a little while longer

Epel Felmier

"ain't no way I'm sharing!"

that's what he says in his head, anyway. but it's late and he's worn out from practice (and being shouted at) so he just sighs and accepts his fate

of course Vil would make him do it. it's probably because he's the smallest, isn't it?

you can tell he's unhappy with the arrangement (not that he's making much of a secret of it- he's grumbling under his breath all evening)

he starts coming around to the idea when he wakes up holding something warm

his heart jumpstarts and he nearly panics before remembering where he is

and then he realizes the thing he's holding is... you. somehow the two of you had ended up spooning during the night

but, more importantly... he's the big spoon!

he's almost tempted to wake you to announce that he, in all his manly glory, had naturally assumed the most masculine cuddling position!

(yes he sounds ridiculous. just let him have this one)

he lets you sleep, though. just a little more won't hurt anyone, right?

he's okay with the arrangement after that

Rook Hunt

"I will do it!"

Vil isn't even able to finish his sentence before the vice housewarden is practically jumping up and down

pretty much everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief; a volunteer! thank the sevens. otherwise, this could get awkward...

of course, he quite intentionally ends up with you in his arms

but not for any nefarious purpose, he insists!

he's a light sleeper, and can be stirred by any sudden noise or movement

you appeared to be having some kind of nightmare

it reminds him of a small animal caught in a trap, struggling for its life. he can't bear to see it- it's cruel to let a poor creature go on suffering before you can make the kill

of course, instead of killing you (thank the sevens), he decides to comfort you

he presses your head against his chest so you can hear his heartbeat, and he runs his fingers through your hair until you calm down.

then he keeps you there, just to be sure you don't have another bad dream

if you gave him permission, he would gladly be all over you in seconds. kissing up and down your shoulders, caressing every perfect inch of your body, whispering words of admiration

but he's perfectly content just cradling you for now

hopefully, you will continue to have these nightmares and give him excuses to do this again

Vil Schoenheit

"don't argue with me,"

initially, you just gave him the bed

maybe you were afraid of him; maybe you like him; maybe you just wanted to avoid a conflict altogether

either way, you spent the first night on the terribly uncomfortable floor, and trudged through Ramshackle like a zombie the next morning

Vil was feeling guilty watching you

what? he's not a monster

and he's a leader, which means he has a responsibility. and you had so graciously invited them all into your home...

fine! he'll share. he insists, even

when you try to argue, he shuts you down, repeating all that stuff about responsibility and hospitality, blah blah

and he doesn't want the team manager dead on their feet

arguing with him is pointless, so you just agree

he wakes up with you against him, sleeping peacefully

now, if it were you clinging to him- he might have had a good chuckle. can't keep your hands to yourself, prefect? I'm just that irresistible?

but the way he's holding you, the way his arms are so tightly wrapped around your waist, the way he's so clearly pressing you against him...

he hates to admit it, but you're an elegant sleeper. it's almost cute

the tension is relieved from your face, your breathing graceful and steady, and your perfect lips open just a sliver...

he is a perfect gentleman, and would never dream of doing anything without your explicit permission, but for one shameful second he thinks about how easy it would be to kiss you

... and then he quickly puts those thoughts aside and tries to get back to sleep

he doesn't want any dark circles, after all

[burstingsblog]

Making a sub choose between being able to cum and being able to empty their bladder is the hottest thing.

Make them edge every day for a week (or longer), so they're a desperate, needy mess by play day.

Then lock the bathroom before they wake up on play day. Keep that bladder nice and full on play day. Keep plying them with drinks, so it keeps getting fuller, until the evening when they're bursting and begging.

Once they start begging to pee, have them lay naked on the bed, and spend an hour or two teasing and edging them, until both of their needs are at their peak.

That's when you give them their choice.. piss, or cum. Only one.

But here's the part that doesn't get talked about enough:

Consequences of their decision.

Ok, so you chose to piss. Probably a good idea since you look like you're about to wet yourself any second. But you're going to spend the next 24 hours being teased and edged, with only enough breaks to eat, sleep, and piss in between. You might get to cum tomorrow night. Or you might have to just wait until we play again next weekend...

OR

Ok, so you chose to cum. I can see why, you're so needy you can't even form a coherent sentence. But I hope you didn't think you were going to get to cum and then just hold it for an hour or two until you wet yourself and let that be the end of it. No. From now until bedtime tomorrow night, you're holding. If I decide it looks like you really can't hold it anymore, I'll let you piss for 5 seconds. Just enough to keep the dam from breaking. Then you'll cut it off, pull your pants back up, and we're going back out. Yes, we're going to be in public. Did you think I would just let you stay home so you can have as many "accidents" as you want?

If you *DO* have an accident, I'm just going to have you drink enough to fill right back up. So don't even think about it.

--

Let each consequence be enough torture that they want to choose the other next time, every time.

[s0urw00lf]

Love is in the air

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: you unknowingly give Dean another reason to fall deeper in love with you

Warning: complete and utter fluff and sam is a girls girl.

A/N: idk if anyone has done something like this, but I really loved it and I think it’s my favorite fic I’ve written yet. Also this isn’t proofread so if you see any mistakes please let me know. I wrote this at 5 am so I probably won’t notice any mistakes. Anywho hope you enjoy!!!

Today’s hunt had been a bust after you and Dean were tasked by Sam to be the cliche “couple in love” so that the envious love witch would target you instead of some other innocent couple.

So now you and Dean were in the impala driving back to the motel that happened to be about a fourty five minute drive away from the restaurant she was targeting.

The night was silent aside from the quiet music Dean had playing in the background and the light tapping of his thumbs against the steering wheel. Dean looked incredibly good in his suit and tie, a look you wish he’d worn more often.

To Dean you looked better than any angel that could grace his presence, when you exited the bathroom with your off the shoulder black form fitting dress and high heels that made your legs look like heaven, his knees almost buckled and they would’ve hadn’t it been for Sam who was there to catch him before he could.

“Hey dean?” You asked softly, drawing his attention from the empty road to you, replying with a ‘hmm’. His green eyes were extra bright in the darkness and made you want to melt in your seat.

“Can I roll down the window?” You asked, it was an odd request on your part, because you usually don’t like the pressure the harsh wind puts on your head. Dean eyebrows rose in surprise before answering “f’course sweetheart, sure it’s not gonna make your head hurt?” he asked sincerely

You shook your head “no it won’t be for long I just… want to try something” you said, pausing in thought you hoped that the feeling would push away the sadness you felt. He nodded glancing back at the road, “okay then go for it” he said with a smile.

You clicked the button to roll down the window and felt immediately relaxed. You put your arm out of the window, closing your eyes and let the wind blow on your face and whistle past your ears.

Dean watched with love in his eyes at how relaxed you looked, he could tell that the your failure to obtain the witches attention had bothered you but decided against saying anything, but as soon as the wind hit your face its like all that sadness slipped away with the wind.

You sat like that for a minute or so before deciding that was enough, you opened your eyes looking for the button again before an idea struck you. You paused in thought ‘would that be too cliche’ you asked yourself, but ultimately you told yourself ‘who cares, do it’ so you did.

You surprised Dean when you stuck your torso out of the window, he immediately grabbed on to your thigh in case you accidentally slipped. You raised your arms as the wind that was way stronger whipped past you, the air was sticky which you’d guessed was from the rain that had fell a few hours prior but you could care less.

For the first time in a life time you felt completely and utterly free, from the worries of the things that lurk in the dark, from death, and disappointment. But the feel of dean hand on your thigh mixed with the wind whipping past you and through your hair made you want to cry of happiness.

Dean watched you from inside of the car, how beautiful you looked, in that moment he was convinced you were sent right from heaven into his arms just so he could live this moment. He saw all of your worries slip away as a carefree smile graces your face. The light from the streetlight lit you up like a pop star on stage and he was your audience.

You caught him even more by surprise when you let out a loud and cheery “woooo” and it seemed like time had slowed. If both of his hands weren’t occupied he would’ve taken a picture, but he couldn’t and he would have to rely on his memory to recall this moment for the rest of his life. He wasn’t even sure how he hadn’t crashed the car.

Your heart thumped loudly at the adrenaline that rushed through your veins and that’s when you decided to get back in the car. You seated yourself back on the seat and rolled up the window before letting out the most cheerful laugh Dean had ever heard from you and just the sound itself had his heart souring. “Holy. I see why they do that in movies” you said, looking at him with the most genuine smile he’d ever seen.

Dean couldn’t help the smile that took over his features at the happiness gleaming from your face. You were glowing and it was the most precious moment of his life. “You are gorgeous sweetheart” he said, he couldn’t help that it slipped past his lips, but the look on your face showed it didn’t have much of an effect on you. You rolled your eyes, still smiling “whatever, eyes on the road Winchester, I don’t want to be roadkill because you’re too distracted” you joked. Dean huffed out a laugh in response.

For the rest of the ride the two of you basked in the happiness that replaced the previous gloom. And when you arrived at the motel, Dean was the first one out the car, rushing to your side to open the door for you. “Such a gentleman, if I’d known you’d be this sweet I would’ve let you take me on a date sooner” you joked, but Dean didn’t take it as one. “Then let me” he said genuinely.

Your smile faltered, ‘is he messing with me?’ You thought “what” you said, it was the only thing you could get out. “Let me take you on a date. A real date not one where we have to look over our shoulders the whole time. Let me take out on a date to drink champagne and eat all those fancy meals that don’t even fill you up” Dean said almost sounding as if he was begging.

Dean grabbed your hands “y/n if you let me I will go the whole nine yards. Flowers, a gift, rent a fancy car and order valet whatever you-“ you cut dean off with a kiss to which he immediately returned. The kiss was soft and sweet, you could feel his eyelashes slightly brush against your cheek, and the way he relaxed into the kiss made you swoon.

His hands dropped yours and he placed his on your hips and you bought yours around his neck pulling him deeper into it. You only pulled away because your lungs had began to burn from the lack of oxygen. Deans eyes remained closed for a little longer, reveling in the feel of your lips against his and your body pressing against him. “Woman you drive me insane” he muttered before opening his eyes.

He was graced with the sight of you smiling up at him with your arms still around his neck. “You can take me on a date Winchester, but it doesn’t have to be anything fancy. We could go to a diner in baby and I’d be just as happy” you said softly, your nose brushing his.

It wasn’t often Dean was rendered speechless, but in that moment he was sure you were made for him and only him. “O-okay” he stuttered. You giggled in amusement “have I rendered you speechless?” You teased, and deans cheeks reddened. “Maybe this will knock some words back into your head” you said before pressing your lips against his for the second time, only this time you didn’t give him enough time to recuperate.

“Hey I wasn’t done” he pouted, and you laughed loudly. Pulling away from him you closed the door to baby and began to drag him back to your shared motel room with Sam who you were sure was watching you wondering why it was taking so long for you to enter the room.

“C’mon Winchester we can talk out the details later” you said grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs that led to your room.

Added bonus:

Sam had seen the blush on deans cheeks and he pure happiness in the both of your eyes. Dean quickly excused himself to the bathroom and Sam looked at you with raised brows. He’d helped you pick out that dress, telling you “Dean won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you”. You gave him the biggest smile trying to contain your excitement “it worked” you whisper yelled. A huge smile broke out on Sam’s face “I told you it would” he said.

He had been the biggest supporter of you and his brother’s possible relationship. “He asked me out Sammy” you whispered so Dean wouldn’t hear. You threw yourself on the bed like a teenager from one of those romance sitcoms you claimed to not like, but before Sam could ask for more details the bathroom door opened revealing a slightly less blushy Dean.

He eyes you two skeptically “what are you two whispering about” he asked. “Just figuring out how we’ll get the witch now” you quickly lied. If Dean suspected you were lying he didn’t show, because he immediately turned his back to you and Sam trying to get his tie off. You sent Sam a quick and subtle wink that meant ‘I’ll tell you later’ and he nodded trying to hide his smile

[rotagnus]

love messages for you --<3

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

wowww i personally have been having a confusing time in my love life and since i have a bunch of free time on my hands, i decided to do a reading to clear things up for not just me, but you guys too. i hope you enjoy <3 drink some tea/water, and take care of yourself.

six piles because i think the more specific you are in such readings, the better it is. this is my favorite reading i've done so far eeeee i'm so excited!

keep in mind love readings talk about all kinds of love!!

there's a poll at the bottom about what kind of readings you guys prefer! i would appreciate it if you voted 😊

pile 1.

the hermit; 10 of swords.

a cycle is ending for you guys. you've been in isolation for a while, and things have been going wrong for what seems to be forever. you're tired, and at this point, you're convinced that nobody can love you right except perhaps yourself. you've been working on your self-love, and valuing yourself at all moments of your life. you have this thing where you separate yourself, but you are your whole life, not moments. you are your whole life, not moments. read that as many times as you have to. you've been quiet, learning, and you've gained intense knowledge from this time within. you're probably not looking for love, not outright chasing it, but there's a pair of eyes on you. apples can be significant for someone specific here. you've been noticing how certain types of people reappear in your life to teach you lessons, and you're used to people leaving--however, some people are forever. don't worry. you're not always going to be subject to lessons--you are here to grow in strength, but that doesn't mean you can't have a little love while you're at it. you have had a feeling your whole life of not being seen, but the truth is that one day, someone will see you. but before that, you must see yourself. as i've said, someone already sees you. but you won't see nor understand that you are seen unless you do the work and look at yourself and who you really are. this pile has a big fear of being seen, and seeing themselves--you must work through this in order to get what you won't. this may sound rough, but the universe won't give you jackshit until you do the work.

signs: glasses. runways. budgies. oranges. pink roses. science/biology. white rabbits. ancestry. makeup blush.

song: anything -- adrianne lenker.

pile 2.

page of swords; 5 of pentacles.

you're a very sweet person, pile 2. you're bubbly and have rose-colored glasses, probably a very musical vision of how life goes. you're not necessarily a new soul, but you choose to be optimistic and hopeful regardless of the troubles you've been through. right now, you're in a state of frustration though--maybe you like someone and you're not quite sure how they feel for you, or your current relationship isn't going well, or someone's giving you mixed signals. i understand that you seek answers. you're a very answer/solution oriented person, and it frustrates you when you're in this purgatory. anora may be significant--(this movie is really good, i don't know why i feel it's important but it is). some of you may be struggling with financial aspects of your life, or you do work that's hard on your soul. however, my advice to your love life is to look within. yeah, it sounds cheesy, and probably not the answer you expected. but talk it out with someone. type it out, write it out, just so you know what you're dealing with. this person will stay as long as they must--if they're the right person, they're not going to leave. the right person is the right person for a reason. lean on your people, lean on your friends. everything's going to be alright. seek knowledge--you have everything you need to know. some of you may be very physically apt--good at yoga, dancing, weight-lifting, a certain sport. my random advice to you is to train this part of you. i'm not sure why, but i think that it could heal a part of you that's been aching. if you don't have any physical hobbies, i highly recommend you get some. for this specific pile, it is special.

signs: slavic languages/countries. short hair. connection to God. opposites attract. 19. silver rings. cookies. red hearts. braille. stuffed animals.

song: rinsed -- dean blunt.

pile 3.

7 of cups; 9 of swords; 6 of swords.

wow i had to pull 3 cards for you, pile 3. and we've got 9 and 6 of swords, so the number 3 may be significant. right now, you may have a roster or simply many options that you're torn apart on. you're not sure what you want, what you need, what you deserve...you're lost.stuck, similarly to pile 2. however, do not fear; your situation is not as dire as theirs. you're on a journey, and the sky is clearing up; you'll figure out what the right thing is, for most of you a person. you're a baddie but you struggle with your self-image, not just how you look (although i assure you, that you have a glow everyone sees) but also who you are as a person. you judge your morals and you judge your personality and baby, you've got to stop worrying. you have a lot of repetitive thoughts that you can't turn off. i highly recommend this pile to meditate, or do yoga--please, for the love of all things good. do something to clear this situation up. the answer you're seeking is coming, but you've been having this sense of things not being real or things being too real, but it's coming. it's going to come regardless of if you want it or not. so right now, focus on working on yourself. eat good food. learn a new recipe. paint. have a self-care day. it's gonna come to you. i promise.

signs: deer. night. cars. chest/breast area. tea. radio. statues. song lyrics. 8. union. unique features.

song: i want you to love me -- fiona apple.

pile 4.

5 of cups; page of cups.

oh my goodness baby. you've got to pat yourself on the back. something very, very painful has happened to you recently. an earth-shattering event. a lot of grief is going on; maybe you feel like a part of yourself has died, maybe you've lost someone, maybe your faith. you're a very good, very pure person--you desire growth, and despite everything, you keep your head up. you have a wonderful heart, and you're sensitive but also brave. nature is significant to this pile--specifically water. it means change. lately, you've been experiencing a lot of synchronicities, let me guess. repetitive signs that mean something to you, but you don't want to overthink it. guess what? you're not. it's the truth. you have this tendency to doubt yourself, even though you've been right, like, a hundred percent of the time before. i assure you that the most valuable tool you have is your gut. it doesn't lie, not to you. it protects you, and i highly recommend that you please, PUH LEASE, listen to it. someone's coming towards you--for most, a friend that can turn out to be a lover. a pillar of support. i don't think most of you know this person as of now. they're very bright, and they contrast you; you guys are the sun and the moon. right now, you have to lay your burdens out in front of you, and let go, just for a moment. let yourself weep. let yourself feel everything. know that someone is coming to help you, but also know that you have the power to do it yourself. you're not weak. but that doesn't mean you have to do it all alone.

signs: not feeling heard. iris by pastel ghost. getting what you want. kitties/leopards. brazilian music. the present; the now. beautiful nails. pinterest. lotus flowers. fish.

song: easy lovers -- piero piccioni.

pile 5.

8 of pentacles; the world; the lovers.

i had to draw three cards for this pile, too, because y'all are confused and that confused me! do you guys even know anything right now? so many changes are on the horizon for you, and even now, your life is in a major shift. crows, ravens, and felines are significant. you guys are embracing a darker energy right now. shadow work is being done, and the universe sees how far you've gotten. soon, you'll be holding fruit in both your palms--you want growth and you're not taking no for an answer, and as a reward, the universe will give you good things. you'll have everything you want, the whole world in your hands. but you have to make sure you don't settle. focus on the journey--it is just as sweet as the ending. many of you have a mentality of if it's not happening now, it won't happen ever. that's not true...you guys do know that, right? these major changes haven't showed you their tails, and you're pulling at 'em, trying to see the ending. you're not meant to know everything, my dear impatient pile. everything is up to you; it's a big maybe. what you want you will get, but be warned--make wise choices. don't sacrifice your morals, faith, and desires just to settle. i think this card is focusing on growing existing connections...maybe situationships, or you like a friend. stop searching for endings, this journey is the most important thing right now. it's going to be a fond memory for you later on, and your damn lesson is to learn how to be patient and take baby steps and enjoy the now instead of racing to the future. you guys rush wayyyy too much. you gotta take a breath and relax. being fast isn't always a good thing. right now, be slow, even if it makes you mad. find other things to do in your time instead of catastrophizing; also, stop having a doom complex. this isn't gonna end in disaster ;). poetry/writing may be significant for you guys. a lot of you dealt with a very hard childhood; many may have been parentified or the older sibling, carrying the whole family on their back. many people have this stigma that they're never going to be loved and that nobody would try to do anything for them. this is wrong, and you're gonna be proven wrong, dear. i promise you, you'll be fine--but for now, keep walking your path and taking your sweet time. change is near--kiss its hand when it arrives.

signs: leap of faith. kelp, seaweed. health. love is everywhere. dyed hair. real listening. 3. young love. the stars. morning light through curtains. sunrises.

song: love songs -- clairo.

pile 6.

8 of cups; the magician.

you guys are soooooo tired with bs. you're a clever cookie, and you know that you gotta leave. i know some of you guys are against it, and you wanna stay with this person/in this situation just a little bit longer, but the truth is you have to snap out of it. you already know this isn't good for you, and it just feels plain wrong, so you have to leave. let yourself feel upset, but know that you must go. acknowledge your thoughts--speaking to the moon may be significant for some of you. you're destined for greatness, and everybody knows it but you. you must let go and know, trust that better things are coming because they ARE. you're kinda blind, no offense, because you don't see that your manifestations are rightttt in front of you. but in order to get them, you have to leave this situation. you're the creator of your story. your intuition is always on point. you may listen to subliminals, just an inkling. and also, if you don't do any manifestation things, look in your life and see that you have everything you've wanted...although it may have come out skewed. manifest. think of what you want. tread carefully. you'll be okay. but you have to leave. you've been taught your whole life that you have to stay...because of blood, because of loyalty, and ever since you were young you held your chin up and stayed, endured, learned, but in the end, you still stayed. i know that it's hard unworking this pattern, baby; maybe you've worked on it in other lives, but the most important thing right now is to know that you can leave. you have the power. i wish you luck and if i could, i'd hug you right now. love is coming, but only if you walk towards it.

signs: mother. rest and recover. horses. medicine. lying down. the color pink. fields. duos/pairs. thunder/storms.

song: love me not -- ravyn lenae.

wow guys. that felt oddly relieving to write!! i hope you guys enjoy it as it's my most specific reading yet. i was wondering if you guys preferred my readings w three cards that are in depth, or these kind?

[amoeganism]

PROJECT PARTER HCS (he wants you so bad) haikyuu

ft: aran, kita, atsumu, osamu, suna

ATSUMU:

HES TRYING!!! but is it successful? (no)

literally cannot shut up the entire time you two meet up but it's ok because he's funny

"hey you wanna see pictures of my teammates" "yeah sure" he pulls out a blurry .5 of suna's nostrils

offers you protein bars and osamus leftovers as snacks

compliments you on literally everything

you wrote two words? he starts cheering and clapping his hands like you're shakespeare presenting a new play

loves pretending to be your strict teacher whenever commenting on your work

makes up for his lack of preparation by making you laugh and flustered

"i think you can add a little more to this part" "you look so sexy calling me dumb"

if you two meet up at a cafe he ALWAYS!!! pays for you

started off as a mistake because he asked you for your order in front of the barista

but he thought for a moment and decided you're worth an extra $5 out of his wallet

always loses his pencils but has dozens of erasers?????

SWEARS by wooden pencils. he sees a mechanical pencil and jumps 5 feet into the air and starts screaming

last few days of the project he looks constipated every time you two are together

"do you need a diaper" "I WANT YOU"

you accept his confession because you unfortunately like him back and because you want a good grade

also because you don't want him pooping his pants

ARAN:

the sweetest!!

always asks how you're doing before pulling out his notes

digital note taker 100%

loves loves loves writing with erasable pen and only uses pencils for exams

is a "let's work on everything together" kinds guy

he says it's to make sure there aren't any disagreements in content and aesthetic (he just wants to talk to you)

if you guys aren't at your house, always offers to walk you back!!!

great academically but if you're making a poster or slideshow do NOT let him decorate it... pls watch out

"does this look good!" "i'm gonna hold your hand when i tell you this..." "omg you want to hold my hand 😍"

starts giggling to himself in his head whenever you guys accidentally touch

you catch him staring at you one day and you don't know what to say so you just stare back

he thinks its so romantic

you're just confused but go along with it

after presentations you think you guys are gonna go back to being friendly classmates but he finds you after class and asks you out :)

KITA:

ACADEMIC WEAPON TEACHERS FAV EVERYONE LOVES HIM

"do you want to read my notes?" he pulls out 5 notebooks with everything color coordinated, sticky tabs, perfect handwriting, and factually correct

he can sit and work for 5 hours straight and still somehow have perfect posture

first time you asked him for help on something you were about to piss yourself because you thought he would call you stupid and send you to hell

he gave you a small smile and started walking you through it with an unmatched level of patience

that was the moment you folded and had to physically restrain yourself from grabbing his cheeks and kissing his face

always offers you tea when you come over and brings out a small tray of snacks

"are you comfortable? do you need any help?"

is suuuuper meticulous but kind with his 739273 different corrections

he swears by the sandwich method of compliment-critique-compliment

"your analysis is amazing in this section but i think you can expand a little bit after because..."

you're the one who confessed first because you thought you would explode from cuteness aggression if you didn't

and also because you thought even if he did reject you, he'd do it in the most painless way

was super happy and bursted into a bright red face but shy smile!!

still told you to go back to the assignment though...

SUNA:

menace i hate him (no i don't)

literally doesn't understand anything that's going on and probably doesn't process what you're saying at first

realizes you're serious about this assignment and forces himself to lock in

asks a BUNCH of questions and jots them down on a google doc

loves to make random conversation when you two are working

actually insane gossiper

nosiest birch you know

allergic to minding his own business that mf has shit on everyone

are you slightly scared of what he has on you? yes. do you still want to hear everything he knows? yes

"i'm taking this info from page 175 of the textbook" "got it, but did you hear that kato is trying to get with his exs best friend??"

leaves notes on your project that are both unserious and encouraging

"omg u are literally einstein"

folds origami when bored

will give you paper cranes, frogs, foxes, and cats whenever you see each other

you discovered that there's small doodles in the posts it's he uses to make them

one day there's your name and his surrounded by hearts like the corny mf he is

confronted him and it and he was just like "oh you found that? well, do you want to go out with me?"

he was NOT SLICK with the way he skipped home and whistled to himself that day after you said yes

OSAMU:

HES TRYING HIS BEST!!! (pt. 2)

can only meet up after school because of volleyball so he offers to cook for you before starting to work

takes notes in class but doesn't understand half the stuff he jots down

writes actual bullshit but half a page in decides to abandon his pride and ask you for help

leans in a little too close whenever listening to what you're saying

tries to make sure your knees are touching and that it's all an accident when your fingers brush (he prepared each scenario in his head before sleeping the night before)

down bad LOSER

spends his time doing his portion of the project while sneaking glances at you

doesn't know how to decorate presentations for the life of him so he is on doodle duty

gives surprisingly good suggestions and takes your corrections to heart

one of the best project partners because of how willing he is to learn and contribute!!! (also because he wants to impress you)

talks shit about his brother to you

atsumu has walked in while osamu was telling you an embarrassing story

they start fighting

osamu gets super embarrassed when you laugh at him

then gets overly confident when you tell him you were rooting for him

will not stop dumb smiling whenever he sees you after that

asks you out after the project is turned in with his hands in his pockets with how they're shaking so much

[centaurianthropology]

Can we talk about how extraordinary Fiedra Marrow is?

She lost her parents young. She grew up on the streets learning to be ruthless and cunning to survive. To move in shadows and to prioritize herself over all others.

And yet, when she’s likely scarcely more than a child herself she finds an egg, and instead of cooking it or selling it or doing anything else, Fiedra—who does not need to do this, who cannot afford to do this, who has every reason in the world to turn her back—decides for whatever reason to take this egg into her care. And it hatches into a little baby dragonborn with some birth anomalies, including a complete inability to use his breath weapon.

And Fiedra, who has been taught by the world to be ruthless and selfish, who is a survivor, who can barely care for herself, who is barely into adulthood herself, chooses to care. She chooses to raise this dragonborn because who else would? Crueler people who would use him and turn him into what she’s become, that’s who.

So she raises him, and leads her gang, and then they all get arrested and sent to Rybad Kol where they make their way into running the kitchens rather than being trapped in the laboring pits. Likely because Fiedra is a fast-talker, is ruthless and cunning.

And because she knows what will happen to Crokas if he’s in the pits. Let’s be clear. If the gang were in Rybad Kol for around 5 years, and Crokas is just entering adulthood as a dragonborn when the campaign starts, then he was probably around 10 when he went to prison. He became an adult in prison, and his mother—to protect them both from people looking to stamp out hope—only ever referred to him as her bodyguard. So he became a bodyguard: a massive creature fully capable of incredible violence. But Fiedra still emphasizes his other qualities. She has to use his strength for violence sometimes, but she clearly never wants that to be all he is. They have to survive, but she is most proud when he carries children and the weak. When he uses his strength for kindness. And she did raise a fundamentally kind man, who sits down and cries after performing overwhelming violence. She always looks carefully to see if he has enough before she steals. She always makes sure she takes care of him, and he learned to take care of her in return. He learned that taking care of people IS LOVE and IS FAMILY.

And when she’s finally given the opportunity to be kinder, to make Torm’s Hill a better and kinder community than any she’s ever been a part of, she speaks out. She uses her words to inspire the other commoners around her. She starts to step up and become a leader, just as much as Garen did.

And when someone threatens that new community, who proposes that he simply recreate the old hell with him in charge, she cuts out his tongue. Because Fiedra Marrow understands that the world can be harsh and cruel. And when she is able she will choose kindness, but much as Nia now understands, when a person decides to make themselves an obstacle to a kinder world, that obstacle needs to be pushed aside.

God I love her, and this party, and I wish we could spend an entire long-form campaign with them, seeing them continue to grow and become the leaders of a new and perhaps kinder world.

[moldycheezeit]

Chapter 1

You were a good kid, great kid even. But no one ever really knew, well maybe your high school science teacher and Alfred, but they were the only ones.  

Someone out there is probably thinking ‘‘well what about your mom she would surely care?” Well to bad she wasn't there, well at first she was, during the pregnancy, but when it was time for you to come into the world all of a sudden she didn’t fit into said world. So death took her away from you minutes after you were born. 

For that and maybe because you look like her, they probably wouldn’t know because they barely look let alone talk to you, they neglected you and it hurt because these are the people who are supposed to love and care for you. But with the help of Alfred you learned to take care of yourself which leads you to this moment. Like right now where you are standing at this very moment. At the school's science fair because you, even if people don’t believe it because of how pretty you are, are really smart when it comes to science. You learned for your love of science by reading a book that your mom had written and left behind after she passed. She left behind many more things for you but this stood out among the rest. It was mostly filled with ideas on things to create and ways that could make it possible. So you tried the one that you found the most interesting and figured out a way to create it. Of course it took a bunch of trial and error but you made it work with what you had. Seeing as Bruce never gave you any money ,like an allowance, you had to find scraps to make your inventions work. Now let’s get back to that competition. 

You are currently standing next to the table with your invention ‘the gauntlet’ yea you didn’t know what to name it. What it can do is tell you any sickness or disease if you were to type in the symptoms of your patient. It takes the form of a bracelet but when activated it basically takes up the back of your hand and half of your forearm. It has two screens, one that you use to type and the other that gives off a hologram-like screen. Yea it’s clunky and doesn’t look right at the moment, but for your first model it’s great. 

While standing around waiting for the judges to come see your product you see a man. He looked to be in his 40’s and had short brown hair, a weird looking goatee, and was wearing… sunglasses? Indoors…welp at least he’s not wearing something stupid like a bat suit. He does look familiar but you can’t remember were from. You notice he’s looking around at the invitations and talking to the creators. And he seems to be heading in your direction like right now. He’s 5 tables away, 4, 3, 2– “Hey kid what’s this you got?” The man is smiling like he’s actually interested in what you have to say. That is not really normal. “This is a gauntlet I created to tell you of any sickness or disease if you were to type in the symptoms of your patient.” You had responded to the man’s question confidently. “Wow you really programmed it to do all that.” He questioned, interested in the gauntlet that sits in the display case. “Yes, it took me a while to do it though.” You had said, uttering the last part to yourself. “ I can imagine seeing as I've done a bunch of stuff just like it.” The uh.. Weirdo, yea lets go with that, had told you. Now that surprised you, But before you could ask any questions the weirdo ,as you've dubbed him, started walking away. “Alright see you later kid, hope you win with that invention you got.” you could hear his voice starting to fade a bit as he walked away. And all you could think was ‘ Man was a weirdo.’ 

It's been a while since the judges had come over to your table, because right now they were deciding on who the top 3 will be. You kinda hoped one of them would be the red haired kid who made that moving metal arm out of scraps. To you it was just really cool. You can't help but hope to get in the top 3 as well because the winners get cash. ‘ I need that money so I can create more inventions, yea using what I have on hand is good but there is a limit of how much I can do with it. Not like Bruce would give me any.’ you had rolled your eyes thinking about that last sentence. Hopefully with the creations your mom thought of they could help you get enough money to never rely on that man again.

Just as you ended that thought the speakers in the hall started projecting what the announcer was saying into the mic. “ Can all the contestants make their way to the stage, the judges have finally made their decisions.”  You and all the other contestants start making your way to the front where the judges are.  luckily it's not that far of a walk and when you get there you all stand in a crowd.  when you all get there the announcer starts speaking “ even though we had a lot of good intentions this year only about three of you can make the top.  so we'll start from 3rd to 1st place in order of who got which.” As the crowd stands there in anticipation  the announcer starts speaking again “ In third place is kidd with his metal arm that he has made to help people who are missing limbs, we hope to see more in the future for him.” as people clap you see the red-haired kid you saw earlier walking up to get onto the stage in the announcer hands him a third place medal and a check with money on it. “ Now for second place Elijah who has made a machine that can take packages of  food and can make them into full meals.” Just like before you had seen this kid Elijah start walking up to the stage and when he got on the stage he had received his second place medal in his check that he had won. “And finally for our first place we have a (y/n) Wayne who has shown us a gauntlet. That can help people in the medical field  identify diseases  if they have a hard time figuring out what they are or what the patient has.” You're surprised to hear that you knew you were smart but you didn't know you would win first place. As you walk up to the stage you have a rush of excitement in you. Finally, you can have money to help create your inventions, your mom's inventions. you can finally fulfill the dream she had that she wrote in her books from before you were born.But when you go on stage the announcer only handed you the first place medal you were surprised to not see a check that came with it then out of the corner of your eye you see the same weirdo man from earlier with a big check walking towards you. “ Hey kid you won just like expected, hopefully you can put this money to use and make more amazing creations like the one you made for today.” But you couldn't help but say “ you look familiar.”  and happily he answers your question saying “I'm Tony Stark kid.” Ah.so that's why he looked so familiar. 

If you watch one piece see what I did there. ٩(^ᗜ^ )و I thought it would be a funny thing to put in. Also sorry I keep posting at like 1am its really the only time I'm free

Taglist : @cxcilla @starslightzz @jackchanzzz @simpingpandas @galaxypurplerose @spqce-buns @peche4et3chocolat @ryuushou @moon0goddess @fanficloverlol

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @mimimar

Hi! I’m Michelle (Mimimar), an illustrator born and raised in Venezuela, currently based in Italy. I enjoy making colorful illustrations that reflect the things I love: fairy tales, fantasy, tenderness and queer (especially sapphic) stories. Occasionally, I also make paper dolls, comics and animatics. I have a lot of interest in book illustration and I’m currently developing my own stories that I hope to share as an author-illustrator someday!

Check out our interview with Michelle below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I always enjoyed drawing when I was a kid, but it only became a hobby that I did almost every day when I was around 11. At first I only used traditional mediums, but I decided to make a serious effort to learn how to draw digitally when I was 15, and once I got the hang of it I never stopped!

I didn’t go to art school so all of my learning was done through studying the tutorials and resources that other artists generously share on the internet and lots of practice / trial and error.

How do you want to evolve as a creator?

I want to do many things but what I want to do the most right now is work on books! I want to make art for other authors’ stories and also my own stories as an author-illustrator. I want to grow as a storyteller and create art and stories that will really resonate with people emotionally. I’m always striving to improve my skills as well.

I also really love dolls, so working on doll box art or as a doll designer is something I would love to do someday. I actually have been designing paper dolls on my Patreon for the past few months, it’s been a fun project that is still ongoing right now!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Probably using a lot of purple! It’s my favorite color so I find myself using it a lot. If I can find a way to sneak a little bit of purple into an illustration or a character design then I will.

Congratulations on finishing your Ivy Comic! Did the outcome turn out like how you expected or were there some unexpected bumps along the way?

Thank you! It’s a project that I worked on very slowly in between other art because I wanted to really take my time with every spread and make each of them a fully detailed illustration. I thumbnailed the full comic before starting but I kept changing the sketch for the final spread until the very end! Overall I’m really proud of the end result. I sprinkled a lot of hidden details in every page that I hope some of the readers will notice. For example: the meanings of the flowers in each page represent what the characters are feeling in that moment, and the colors of their wardrobe become gradually lighter as the story progresses to represent their emotions, as well as the changing of seasons.

We’ve noticed that you have created some amazing cover art for TGCF. Is there another series you would like to do something similar with? 

That was another passion project that took some time to complete. Initially, I didn’t intend for them to be specifically covers, it was just a series of illustrations based on the 5 books/main arcs of TGCF. But since they were well-received and I had people telling me they wish they could use them as covers for their books, I decided to rework them into dust jackets for the english translation of TGCF!

I haven’t thought of any other specific series but I love doing cover art so maybe I’ll do something similar again in the future!

What’s your favorite part of your style? Why?

I’ve heard from other people that there’s a delicate quality to my art, this is something that I like a lot! I like pretty things, fairytales and vibrant colors. I think all of these things probably reflect in the art I make as well.

If there is one thing you want your audience to remember about your work, what would it be?

I hope that they remember how it made them feel. Feelings and colors are the two things I give priority to in my work. Most of the time I like depicting tenderness, softness and emotional intimacy. If that could reach the viewer and stay with them it would make me very happy. 

I make a lot of art with queer (mainly sapphic) themes because they’re the kind of stories I personally like and want to see more of, so whenever people tell me that my art has helped them in their journey to discover and accept themselves, or that they see themselves and their partner in my art, it is always extremely meaningful to me. When art that I made to give myself comfort can provide comfort for others, no matter how small, it reminds me once again that despite any hardships art is genuinely worth pursuing.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

So many artists! To name a few:  I love @sakizo’s amazing eye for fashion and detail,  @paneeps’ gorgeous style and striking colors,  the sweetness of @bevsi’s art,  @vickisigh’s pretty colors and concepts,  @idledee’s warm and heartfelt art,  @littlestpersimmon’s dreamy wonderful art,  and @loish has been an inspiration for as long as I can remember.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Michelle! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @mimimar.