#but it was just an idea but i liked it a lot😭

[justevelynnnn]

Don’t open that!

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Reader

Summary: Mark slips up and sends you a picture but what he doesn’t know is you actually end up liking it…

Warnings: MDNI 🔞, Reader is written with being afab in mind but can be gender neutral, mentions of a d pic being sent to reader

A/N: This idea came up to me while i was at work so i had to get it out…but omg imagine this scenario with me😭 also I’m working on a lot of my drafts and requests tonight I promise😭‼️

It was just another late saturday night. You were trying decompress from working earlier that day as well as letting your dinner digest before bed. You lived a simple life. You had your own place now even though you were 20. It was nice, small but yours. It had ambient lighting, a candle here and there…lots of pillows….

Your bed was extra soft tonight too though it probably just feels that way because of how tired you were.

You also had a decent view.

Sometimes you’d leave your window cracked open just in case Mark stopped by. Ever since he got with Amber and then later Eve you haven’t seen him much, but he still came by occasionally. It was just hard. You were convinced you guys would get married and everything back in high school.

A crush might be an understatement to be honest, but saying you were in love was also too much. Especially because you were a teenager, like, what did you know about love? Even though everything still reminded you of him. Or you loved being around him no matter what you guys were doing.

Mark being invincible was weird too. Your ex best friend, a superhero. Flying and punching bad guys daily. Going into literal outer space. It definitely took some getting used to.

Now you were laying on your bed upside down and scrolling on social media. Aside from the occasional video that popped up and the cars honking from below it was quiet in your room. Nice and peaceful.

You didn’t know you had silent mode off on your phone though so that’s why the sudden DING! from your phone scared the shit out of you.

It was message. From Mark.

It said:

Just now | Mark💞 : [One attachment]

You quirked an eyebrow. A meme maybe?

Your finger moved to click the notification. It’s been days since he sent you anything honestly so part of you was excited. However, when you saw what it was your jaw dropped and your heart took a fucking screenshot.

If the angle wasn’t enough it was that dick. His.

Your eyes settled on it for a full minute. You assumed he saw you were looking because he had read receipts on…but you typed nothing. You couldn’t. What could you even say?

You couldn’t even be mad. You should’ve. It was an unprovoked dick pic. In the past, you’d be fuming by now, but, obviously, this was different. Right?

He had his phone angled so it was as if one were looking up at him, his shirt up on his torso so his abs showed, and right in the forefront was his hardened dick. Right there. His tip was flushed and oozing from what you saw too. You couldn’t hell but think that just like his face, his dick was just as captivating.

His face was in the corner but kinda cut but you could see his eyes half lidded and his face was rosy pink.

You mouthed, “Oh my god…”

Eve or Amber or whoever he was with now that was supposed to get this was lucky as shit. You tried to also ignore the rising jealousy for the mystery girl too.

It’s been 3 minutes now. Maybe he didn’t see it went totally the wrong girl? Part of you was scared it WAS meant for you. Not in a bad way. Maybe you were actually nervous.

Then those 3 dots appeared. Oh god.

You swipe out of your messages app. You couldn’t look and let him see you were still staring.

Then another notification just as quick as the dots appeared came from the top of your screen.

Just Now | Mark 💞: DONT OPEN THAT

Just Now | Mark 💞: Oh my fucking god

Just Now | Mark 💞: Don’t open it please

Just Now | Mark 💞: I’m so sorry

You wondered if he saw the little “read” under to his picture or not. Probably not if he’s telling you not to open it.

You waited a minute while he sent a few more panicked texts. Then you sigh and open the app again. What could you say? Something cocky? A joke? Maybe send an emoji? You had to say something because you already saw it and you didn’t want things to be awkward for days on end following this.

Your fingers just start to move.

You: It’s okay Mark

You: It was a mistake

You paused. You thought hard about sending the next text. Then:

You: Also i have to tell you, you’re really hot

You: Sorry if that’s weird.

Nothing. But it said read immediately. Your heart was still hammering in your chest from it all. This actually changes everything. Part of you wanted to know who it was for. A smaller part wondered why he couldn’t just check who he was sending this to.

Things are going to be awkward now for sure.

He starts typing again seconds later. This time you watch the dots. Anticipation building slowly as you wondered what he was going to say next. You had to look away from your phone and at one of your burning candles as you waited.

Mark 💞: It’s fine

Mark 💞: Sorry i fucked up so bad. i seriously didn’t mean to

Mark 💞: I know your traumatized, i’ll make it up to you i promise

Mark 💞: :(

You giggle a bit at the sad face. He normally used it when he joked so you liked how he could joke about this. Your heart now flutters imagining his reaction. His flushed face and sorry eyes behind his screen. Maybe that lip bite thing he does when he’s nervous.

You typed back slowly, deciding to take a risk.

You: I’m not traumatized….actually i kinda liked it..

Your breath hitches as you hit send and this time you actually threw your phone. You couldn’t look again. Hell no. This was the stupidest thing you couldn’t done-

Ding!

You flinch. You slowly turn your phone around so you could see your lock screen with the notification on it.

Just Now | Mark 💞: Oh?

Just “oh”. Now it your turn to be mortified. Has he figured you out? Does he think you’re weird? You hated how he didn’t use emojis so you knew how he was feeling. Even a hint. Was he intrigued? Or grossed out?

You open your messages to reply with an apology when you see just in time another message come through.

Mark 💞: Wanna see it again?

Your eyes widened for the hundredth time that night. You wanted to type yes in all caps immediately but you withheld. You took a deep breath. Things we changing, and fast. You wanted to do this right. Maybe this is your change to finally get with him in your own eccentric way.

You think hard before responding.

You: I wouldn’t mind

He doesn’t respond for a few more minutes. You wish you knew what he was thinking. And you prayed you didn’t go too far.

And just like that your prayers were answered. You sat up on your bed as you saw the second image come in.

Your face was lit up in the semi dark room when the picture appeared. If looking from outside your window, impossible for being on the tenth floor by the way, they’d see your mixed look of shock and arousal. They’d see how you bit your lip and just stares at your phone.

But no one could ever guess you were looking at your best friend’s dick for the second time that night.

You made a choice and hearted the image.

In his own room, Mark smiled. Sure it was meant for Eve because she decided to get back with Rex but your reaction just changed everything.

[deerspherestudios]

Hihi hello!! 🌺❤️

First of all, thank you so so much to those who visited the booth! I honestly expected only a sale or two during the event (to clarify, I meant sales for my games' merch hjhds my friends had AMAZING items to sell), but to my surprise my friends told me a lot of you came by just for stuff from the catalogue! I wish I was able to meet you in person to thank you!! in three languages!! how much I appreciate the support!! 😭!!

And for those outside Malaysia or couldn't attend, once I'm able to figure out a proper platform, I'll happily announce the online shop once it's ready! Thank you again everyone! Your continued support means so much to me!

A summarized update for everything else;

with the con and merch making out of the way, I can finally get back into the swing of development! After the break I definitely have a solid idea on where Day 4 will go, I'm so excited to get started! I can't promise when the next day will release, I'll make a checklist as I've always done once the script is done, refined and coded into Ren'Py!

by the time this posts, I'll hopefully have the QnA masterlists updated (that goes for MO, LYS and AN) and the queue will be up and running by tomorrow!

I definitely wanna make better and better merch for you guys, so once the current stock runs out, I look forward to making more designs and types in the future! Merch-making is definitely an art form in and of itself I now realize, and it's something I'd like to improve upon with more experience!

[halflifebutawesome]

genuine question am I the only one around here that sees the gman as actively antagonistic or am I the outlier

[wendichester]

Hi, i’m never done this before and i’m nervous lol

so i was wondering if you could write something with Sam x fem!reader, the reader is a reporter of the town where the boys have a case and she is very attached to the case because there’s a lot of murders and wanna know what’s happening so she decided to do her own research and there is when she meet the winchester

i imagine the reader sassy, impulsive and very very sarcastic (that would make Sam hate her in the beginning) but very kind, sweet and funny at the same time idk like Lois Lane type of person you know? well i don’t know if you know but yeah

well that’s it omg i hope you get the idea and i’m so sorry if this doesn’t make any sense i don’t speak english and i tried my best 😔 i forgot the grammatical tenses and everything 😭

have a good day/night you sweet person ok bye

˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ink-stained,

summary. you've been investigating a series of murder in your hometown. way past work-level healthy. it's getting personal now.

pairing. sam winchester x reporter!reader genre. fluff

wordcount. 561

notes / warnings. thank you for requesting bubs! i hope you like this ehe // mentions of murder investigations (no graphic content), reader gives Sam a headache and a crush at the same time

You stick your pen behind your ear, flip your notebook shut, and square up to the man currently glaring at you like you’re an inconvenient fly buzzing around his very serious man-face.

“Well, Agent Ham-and-Egger,” you say, with a sugary-sweet smile, “since the cops don’t seem to know squat, maybe you’d like to share what exactly the FBI is doing sniffing around this town’s murder scenes like dogs at a barbecue?”

He exhales hard. Tall and already regretting his life choices. “We’ve got it under control.”

“Do you?” You tap your notebook against your palm. “Because the last three victims were drained of blood and left in a perfectly staged tableau. That doesn’t scream ‘under control’ to me, G-Man.”

Sam Winchester’s jaw ticks.

You clock it. And grin.

You don’t know who this guy is—not really. He’s traveling with that other one, the smirking flirt in the leather jacket who practically winked at your recorder. But this one? This tall drink of broody fedsuit? He hates you already.

Good. That makes this more fun.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss details,” he says through clenched teeth. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t interfere.”

You give him your brightest, most annoying smile. “Oh sweetie, you’ll learn. I don’t wait for answers. I dig them up.”

Dean strolls over then, holding two coffees and way too much charm. “Everything okay over here, Sammy?”

You raise a brow. “Sammy? Oh, that’s adorable. I was gonna go with Special Agent Grumpy Pants.”

Sam exhales again—louder this time.

Dean smirks like he’s watching the best soap opera of his life.

You don’t mean to follow them.

Okay, that’s a lie. You absolutely mean to follow them.

There’s something weird about this case, and you know in your gut these two are more than they say they are. No FBI agent works a case this deep in the dirt, in a town this small, unless there’s something extra going on.

So when they head to the morgue, you’re not far behind.

You’re also not as stealthy as you think.

Sam catches you red-handed, lurking in the hallway like a raccoon in lipstick.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” he groans.

You grin, flipping open your notepad. “So. Vampires? Or are we going full ritualistic cult?”

He narrows his eyes. “How do you even know to ask that?”

You shrug. “I was raised on myth and murder. And my ex-boyfriend was obsessed with horror movies. I absorbed some stuff.”

Sam stares at you like you’re a puzzle he doesn’t want to solve but absolutely has to. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

He scrubs a hand down his face. “You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

You wink. “Not if I stay close to tall, broody, and capable.”

And just like that—he blushes. Barely. But it’s there.

You smirk. “Gotcha.”

He mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “insufferable woman,” but doesn’t tell you to leave. Doesn’t walk away either.

You lean on the wall beside him, triumphant.

“What now?” you ask.

He sighs. “Now, we talk. Because if I don’t give you something, you’re gonna tail us until you get yourself eaten.”

You blink.

And then: “So it is vampires.”

His jaw drops. “I didn’t say that!”

You smirk. “You didn’t have to.”

You have him fuming, but also kind of bothered. And Sam isn't sure it's hate or something else.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[creatingblackcharacters]

sinners & m17 anon here; we're all white, so yes. and i do not think i know the mythology(?)/history behind vampires, at least in the context of sinners, either! but i did at least catch the obvious metaphor, and the cross-cultural references especially with the main villain being irish yet siding with klansmen to prey upon a Black man... and so on. they caught that part, it's just the vampires bit that threw them off.

btw, i saw someone running a fan blog for the main villain. like, what? i can't even fathom that. i don't even remember that man's name. how do you watch that movie and come away thinking "i need to make a blog dedicated to the racist irish vampire" 😭 baffling

Okay yeah so you probably didn't get it fully either 😅 Sinners spoilers!

The way the vampires were explained in that it's another form of suffering. It's similar to the idea of a Haitian zombie; in that zombies and vampires aren't just things to fear themselves, but that the state of Being Trapped As One is infinitely more horrifying. That is, when you turn into a Vampire, that's spiritual suicide. Soul Eradication. You're Undead, and you're Done. No connection to your ancestors, your culture, or your afterlife. It's why Annie asked Smoke to do what he did.

Yes the vampires represented racist colonizers, but they also physically represented the parasitism that comes with loss of the Self and the Culture. They physically represented what assimilation into whiteness requires- the Death of the Individual to become a part of the Whole. By forcefully turning others into vampires, Remmick wasn't just stealing their lives- he was stealing their souls. That bit where Sammie connected the spirits of the ages? They won't get to have that!

Yeah, when it comes to your friend group, I'd definitely watch some videos into Annie and her practice of Hoodoo, the knowledge of which was necessary to understand a lot of why the vampires were so frightening from a... Cultural standpoint. It didn't just turn into Blade; there was still storytelling!

[jinjoohaa]

GUYSSSS, PLEASE READ THIS !!!

before i post more chapters of Room for one more—just a lil reminder: this fic is literally my peak fantasy. the idea has been stuck with me ever since i first saw all those hot-ass jjk men 😭 it’s full-blown dark smut, no limits, not for sensitive readers or minors!! 🙏

i’ve been getting a lot of requests for fluff/slice of life—some light moments are coming in future chapters (yes, even angst!), but the main focus will always be intense smut. that’s how i planned it and how i like it 😌

if you want soft stuff like nanami tutoring y/n, gojo gaming w/ her, geto deep talks, or toji at the gym—i will make those as bonus content, but not in the main fic cause I already planned layouts (it’s around 35+ chapters lmao send help 😭) so changing it now would be way too much for me.

so to keep it simple:

💥 main fic = smut, filth, chaos , dark

🫶 bonus posts = fluff, softness, angst, small moments also maybe some filth

please read content warnings carefully, and if this kind of content isn’t for you, feel free to skip! and if it is for you—hi babe, welcome back 😌

sin responsibly 💋

( Also no new chapter today, cause I've been busy with the bonus scenes, see y'all tomorrow 😚🫶)

taglist: @sparkling-obsidian @yaurss @pota-hoe @shiroonii @unrxdcl @xanhnax @bunny-wunni @kkmaysen @dinokens-blog @starryyairis @stellavirgindaddy @lilahardell @dollbwun @anacod @ellieebellee @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh @nina-from-317 @a1zennn @lenafushiguro @imoutofpot @riszei @mikasasarm @seobinghard @dontcallmedoc @savagecatsuga @satorus-sweetbunny @socksfirst1 @mimiluvzu2 @slovesyouuu @dayarncollector @pettypinkprincessblog @novyscotia @lady-haitani @airandyeah @bitchycoffeellama @odysseusmom @r0seyposey @teenbreakup @originalcrazycatlady @fairygardenprincesss @lolliibunny @yurixxiii @sukunasbigtiddiewifey @sunoooooassss @toofoxmoon @angelita-uchiha @spicytteokbokki @certifiedchangbinlover @maliciouslullaby

[wvffles]

eeeeeeeeeeeee i'm loving this series so much already !!💙

Ben’s grip tightens a fraction. “All I need is a fucking ride. That isn’t too much to ask, now is it, sweetheart?”

well ben you're not exactly asking now are you 🤠 also i do love how she's still snapping back at him, even if it's not the best idea with the temper he has 🤣

For all Vought claimed to care about diversity, your boss once commented on your “wild” hair shedding on the tile floor.

the familiarity of this made my eye twitch a little bit loll

“Where are you from, exactly?” he asks. 

oh no...

He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. What are you, Mexican or something?” You raise a brow, your lips pursing when he begins to smirk.   “I do like me a juicy taco,” he says. 

jesus christ ben 🤦🏽‍♀️ I actually had to take a moment to pause and take a deep breath lmfao he's just soooooooo, out of pocket sometimes like dude pls 😭

“All right. Calm down, Chiquita. You should take it as a fucking compliment,” he says. He raises a brow at you. “You’re a real spicy one, aren’t you?”

oh i'll show you spicy alright, lmfaoooo he's ridiculouss 😩😂 i'm only laughing because it's ben, and also fictional (<3) but it's wild to me how there really are people like this irl, just boggles my mind

“I’ve gotten with a few Latinas in my time,” he says as he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as his thighs splay out a little wider in the sweatpants you let him borrow. “Always with that fuckin’ feisty little temper. But you know what, I got no problem with a hot tamale.” 

yeahhh i'd have to start cussing him out in spanish 😭 show him what a 'feisty temper' really looks like lmfao pinche cabron 🤣

“I know for a fact you can get basically whatever you want on this fucking thing within half an hour,” he says. “Do what you need to do to get some grub over here, but you’re not leaving this fucking apartment until I say so."

some of us are poor, benjamin 🤦🏽‍♀️ it really does cost an arm and a leg to get anything these days it's the worsttt :/

honestly I thought I was gonna yap some more but I realize now that i'm thinking of the whole story so far, including the next two chapters 😩😅 it's so good already !!💗

what I feel is a bit different from this story compared to your other SB stories is that in this, the reader seems a lot more civilian-like. idk if that makes sense like, in the bmd-verse I feel that given the nature of that mc's job, she was a bit more used to "combative situations" and in lost on you that mc is a supe herself, whereas in this story she's really just like, your average person working in an office, which to me adds an extra sense of like vulnerability to this dynamic.

and I mean i'm not saying she's a complete damsel in distress because she is certainly holding her own lmao, but she is being thrust into this whole new dangerous world, thanks to the unfortunate luck of working at that hellish company ;_; like poor girl just wanted to pursue her interests and stay afloat then boom, the building is crumbling and she's harboring a fugitive 😭 one with outdated morals at that ay no, pobresita 😔

+ after listening to the podcast episode I do just wanna put this out there — you're doing super well with navigating this challenging dynamic !!💙 as a fellow latina poc i’m absolutely lovinggg this and i’m excited to see how they got from point a to point b (aka lost in translation) lol <333

UNRAVEL ME - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Afro-Latina!Reader

Summary: In the wake of Vought Tower finally falling, you find yourself crossing paths with Soldier Boy. Rogue, weakened, dangerous, and hunted, he needs a place to hide. You’re not about to offer up your own home to shelter a supe wanted by Homelander and the CIA…but he’s also not going to let you refuse.

AN: Finallyyyyy lol. I know I've been talking about this series for months now, but it was genuinely challenging for me to write this prequel for Lost in Translation (which was requested by various Tumblr friends and anons who wanted to see Soldier Boy matched with a woman of color). I think maybe it's because this is now my third Soldier Boy series, and getting this guy to show character growth is hard to do three different times. 🤣 But let's see how it goes with another post-season 3 misadventure! 💜💙 This series also fulfills a hilarious prompt for @jacklesversebingo!

Song Inspo: “Unravel Me” by Sabrina Claudio

JVB Prompt: Accidental Old Person Acquisition

Word Count: 6K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, threats, SB being his typical asshole self, obnoxious flirting, racial elements, Ben drinks Cuban coffee, among other ethnic mini adventures in the future. The reader is a mixed-race Afro-Latina with textured hair. 

💜 Series Masterlist

💙 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Hot Tamale

Vought Tower is falling.

Or at least, that’s what it feels like: the ground trembling like a Magnitude 7 earthquake, overhead lights flickering, a line of rubble falling on your head as you finally manage to squeeze out of the stairwell and into the main floor's reception area. You take in a large gulp of air, breathing past the oppressive clog of warm bodies, sweat, fear, and a hint of piss.

The walls quake along with the tile floor; you spill onto it hard, hitting your knees, though you curl your fingers fast when a woman from Legal almost steps on them in her dagger heels. Fuck!

Fear and adrenaline compel you to scramble onto your feet and claw your way through the gift shop. Maybe you'll be able to cut through the aisles of overpriced Starlight plushies and Special Edition Black Noir Funko Pops to get to one of the east exits.

It's Vought’s very own 9/11. You were told to evacuate over the intercom, and now you're about to find out why.

It’s taken over an hour to try and escape. You’re still trapped in the building, obviously, caught up in the lobby. It's backed up by the clusterfuck of people squeezing themselves through the narrow exit doorways to the garage, like rats clamoring over one another to avoid extermination. Somehow they've broken through the glass to override the security protocols that had first tried to lock you all in.

Just when you make it past the display of red, white, and blue Homelander mugs, a blinding light catches your eye through the tall windows and the growing darkness of the evening. The light falls and falls, what looks like a tangled ball of red and orange and green.

It explodes into the ground, shaking the very foundations of New York City. You cling to the display table and manage to dive underneath it.

You hide there until the shaking stops.

Tears sting in your eyes as the unsteady screams of your coworkers ring out in the lobby, even though you don’t recognize most of them. You suddenly remember your boss; you lost sight of him on the way down the first five flights of stairs. You morbidly wonder if he was one of the ones who got trampled along the way, or blown off the side of the building in the crash.

When the outside world is quiet again, you crawl out from underneath the table. Everyone who still can is slowly getting to their feet, picking themselves up, some of them helping the people closest to them. You don’t know what the hell is happening, but you have a strong feeling Homelander is involved. He’s been playing at CEO for weeks, now that Stan Edgar has been deposed.

Instead of leaving out the front, you continue your plan of going through one of the east side exits. There’s a narrow alley that leads to the garage farther down. You step out into the evening light, made darker in the alley behind what’s left of the Tower. You know the metal door to the garage isn’t too far away, but before you can get to it, you see a man stumbling right toward you.

It's too dark to see him clearly, and even though you back up a couple of steps, the green of his uniform captures your attention.

“Oh my God,” you breathe. “Soldier Boy?”

He glances up at you through furrowed brows. The state of him, ragged and soot-stained, his labored breaths, and the way he’s leaning against the wall—it all tells you that he’s been through some major shit.

“Uh, a-are you okay?” you ask shakily, clutching your messenger bag.

“I’m fine,” he says, though his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that makes your spine prickle with unease.

In record time, your brain collects what little you know about the ancient relic of a supe that’s mere steps away from invading your personal space. Homelander has been calling him a rogue in the press, but even though your role at Vought barely makes you a blip on anyone’s radar, you know enough about what really holds the company together…which means you know better than to believe even one iota of what that star-spangled prick told the public. 

Your gaze flits over Soldier Boy, now with some concern despite your wariness.

“Are you hurt?” you ask.

“I said I’m fucking fine. Do I look fucking hurt?” he growls tiredly. When he tries to stand a bit straighter, he almost stumbles against the wall.

Part of you twinges with sympathy, but still, your lips purse at his attitude.

“Dude, you don’t want me to tell you what you look like,” you say.

His eyebrow twitches. He opens his mouth to retort, but that’s when a man’s voice can be heard nearby. You turn your head at the sound.

While you’re distracted, Soldier Boy grabs you with more strength than you anticipated and drags you along with him against the wall. You gasp, but he holds a dirty half-gloved hand over your mouth.

Voices begin to echo from down the other end of the alley, closer to the main road. The supe has already turned his head in that direction, but your gaze flicks there next, your eyes wide and fearful.

“I don’t need a fuckin’ doctor,” says a man. His accent is thick as hell, like a Mary Poppins chimney sweep. Cockney? He’s tall, wearing a long black coat to match his black hair. He’s also arguing with a black man and a skinny white guy. A couple of ambulances zoom by, for a moment overtaking their voices and casting their bodies in the red glow of the siren alarms.

“Considering you coughed up blood on my fucking shoes, I’m dumping you off at the nearest hospital within a mile, and then you lose my number for good. Got that, motherfucker?” says the black man. He’s just as intimidating as the other guy, if not more so, considering the way the Brit's leaning against the wall like he might keel over right there.

The skinny guy breaks the tension between them. “Look, we should go. Annie’s got Maeve, and Homelander could be circling the sky looking for us right now.”

Queen Maeve? What happened to her? She was supposed to be in rehab. Who's Annie? Oh shit. Annie January. Starlight broke Maeve out? No. I should've known that rehab story was bullshit too. Who fucking knows what actually happened there. More importantly, what's happening here?!

Your thoughts tumble into one another while your heartbeat pounds in your ears. Your breathing comes out shallower through your nose, considering the big meaty hand covering your mouth.

If Homelander's looking for these guys, then none of this little scene is good. It makes you a fucking witness. Shit...

Soldier Boy tightens his hold on your arm. Slow and quiet, he opens the door to the parking garage with his elbow, since his other hand is still locked over your mouth. He guides you in. 

“Don’t scream, or I’ll start squeezing,” he warns. At least he releases his hand from your mouth, instead, grabbing the back of your neck. “Where’s your car?” 

“Wait, come on,” you plead, your voice shaking. “Whatever you did, I don’t want to know, but I didn’t sign up to be your getaway driver.” 

Ben’s grip tightens a fraction. “All I need is a fucking ride. That isn’t too much to ask, now is it, sweetheart?”

“Depends on where you’re trying to go,” you say. But you decide that not getting snapped in half is good enough reason to lead him to your car. You rarely have cause to drive it, so it mostly just stays parked here in the garage. For once, you’re grateful that you shell out a portion of your monthly paycheck to reserve this space. 

You fish your keys out of your car and unlock the door with shaky hands. Soldier Boy watches you press the button on the small key remote with furrowed brows, but he takes it from you after forcing you in the driver’s seat, so he can enter the car on the passenger side.

The second your tiny blue Kia rumbles pitifully to life, your music blares loud enough to feel the bass in the floor. Soldier Boy smacks the radio buttons roughly until it stops.

You give him a thin smile. 

“Not a fan of Bad Bunny?” you ask.

Irritated, he grabs a hold of the small plushie swinging from your rearview mirror. He yanks it off despite your protest, nearly breaking the mirror, and stares in gruff bewilderment at the white fluffy heart. It has a Dominican flag embroidered on the front and a Cuban flag on the back—custom made on Etsy.

The supe raises a brow, but he dismissively tosses it somewhere in the back seat. When you look at his grumpy face, he just reminds you of Oscar the Grouch. He reaches down and shifts the seat back, but he barely has any leg room for those thunder thighs and combat boots.

“Just fucking drive,” he says, his voice like sharp gravel.

Again, your annoyance sparks at his rudeness. Are all supes assholes, or is it just the ones you’re forced to interact with?

“Okay, but where the hell do you want me to take you?” you ask. “The subway? The airport? The Hudson River? What?”

He thinks about it, drumming his fingers against his leg. His uniform is a bit poppier than military green, yet more classic than Homelander’s with the stretch of that silver-plated eagle across the chest. 

“Too many eyes at the airport. I need to lie low for a while before I get outta dodge,” Soldier Boy admits. Then he sits back in your passenger seat, adjusting the recline until his broad frame is below the view of the window. You think it’s both for his own comfort and so he’s less likely to be seen. 

“Your place should be all right,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Your mouth falls open in shock. “Are you for real?” 

He just gives you a stern look. He’s not fucking kidding.

“Look, you may be a superhero and all, but I don’t fucking know you! And…” Just then, clarity strikes you as you remember what’s been going on in the news for the past week. “Didn’t, uh, didn’t you…blow up a building in Midtown?”

He doesn’t seem to want to answer at first, leveling you with that stoic, bearded face. His gaze eventually drifts away from yours. 

“That was an accident.” 

Your breath gets caught in your throat. “That’s a pretty big accident.”

Again, Soldier Boy doesn’t answer you. You try to focus on the road, but it’s pretty impossible when you have a supe that’s supposedly risen from the dead in your passenger seat, who also exploded 19 people on accident, who tried and failed to kill Homelander.

Speaking of, Homelander himself is looking for this guy…which means you’re helping a fugitive escape. What’s worse, he wants to crash on your goddamn couch.

One of your hands leaves the steering wheel to cover your mouth. You press your hand there until the mix-match of gold and silver rings start to bite into the sensitive flesh of your lower lip. 

“Coño su madre,” you mutter the curse under your breath. I’m so fucking screwed.  

You unlock the door to your third-floor apartment with a heavy sigh. As usual, it gets stuck the first time you try to swing it open. You throw a little more strength in your arm the second time, and the door finally budges. 

You flick the lights on inside and unveil the shoebox that is your home. It’s barely a one-bedroom. The open kitchen lies to the right with a small two-seater table nestled against the wall, while the “living room” lies to the left. There you managed to fit a faded violet loveseat couch from your college days, a bookshelf from Goodwill, and your TV perched on what’s supposed to be a coffee table.

Straight ahead is a narrow hall that leads to your bedroom door on the right side and the one and only bathroom on the other. 

Well, this is gonna be fun. Slumber party with America’s Most Wanted, you think, with no small amount of Jesus fucking Christ weighing your steps.

Soldier Boy’s broad shoulders barely clear the open doorway. He shuts and locks the door behind him and takes stock of your apartment with a slow turn of his head. He doesn’t seem impressed, except for the paintings, funky ‘60s style shelves, and other canvases decorating the walls.

“You some kind of artist?” he asks, giving a cursory glance to each one.

“Uh, yeah, kinda,” you nod. “But most of these aren’t mine.”

On every wall, there’s a cluster of art, from canvases to pottery, glass, burnished clay, and brass. There are replicas of paintings by Salvador Dalí and Frida Kahlo, Picasso and Basquiat, Monet and Amelia Peláez, even a sculpture of a woman that you tried to replicate from Ana Mendieta. It’s meant to represent the suffering of women. Hell if today doesn’t qualify.

You toss your messenger bag onto the couch and throw up your arms at your sides.

“Well, since the police, Homelander, and probably the rest of the government are looking for you, you should do the whole ‘get outta dodge’ thing in the morning,” you say. You clasp your hands together in the facsimile of a prayer and politeness all in one. “But if you really wanna spend a night on my couch, then that’s okay.”

We’ll get through this. Just one night of insanity and then this’ll all be over. 

“That bed looks big enough for two,” the supe says. He nods at your open bedroom door and smiles suggestively, his gaze roaming over your form.

You get that shiver down your spine again, even as you blush. You take a pointed step away from him.

“Uh, how about fucking no,” you snap. “That door will be locked, and I have a taser that I’m not afraid to use on any tender bits.”

He raises a brow at you, but he snorts. He steps toward you, his gait slow and arrogant. You cross your arms while he closes the distance, his hair falling forward across his forehead as he stares down at you with a hint of a sneer. His chin and forehead are still stained with grime, just as his red gloves are scuffed and half burnt from whatever happened in that blast.

Your heart trips up faster. A tremble of fear runs through you, but you refuse to move.

“You do realize that that’s tantamount to flicking me with a rubber band,” he says. His half-lidded gaze runs over you with a note of interest. The corner of his mouth raises in a smirk. “Besides, whatever we might get up to, I can guarantee you’ll enjoy it. Just ask Loni Anderson. Farrah Fawcett. Hell, Molly Ringwald. Love me a fuckin’ redhead once in a while.”

You give him a look that could (proverbially) crumble Empire State.

“Don’t fucking bet on it,” you say.

Yes, your voice is quiet. Yes, you have to work past a swallow. But you don’t ever drop your gaze. You meet him head-on with every bit of stubborn fire you have left inside you.

“If you touch me, I’ll scream," you say, a wary trembling in your chest. "Even if you kill me, they’ll find you that much quicker.”

His smirk falls away. His gaze roams over you again, this time in a different way. Maybe he sees the way your entire body is tense, locked up tight, prepared to recoil and scream if he tries to grab at you. He relents.

“Christ, relax. It’s your fucking loss anyway, sweetheart.” His eyes roll dismissively as he turns away from you. “I need a shower.”

He strides down the hall in search of it. You move quickly to get ahead of him. The last thing you need is him rifling through your bedroom drawers.

“Ah, wait! I’ll get you a towel,” you say. It irritates you to have to treat him like a “guest,” but you don’t know what else to do. The man can literally snap your neck. Even for that big ass bluff you just pulled, you really, really don’t want to die.

You could try calling the police while he’s in the shower, but you don’t know what he’ll do if he finds out. And who’s gonna be quicker on the draw—the human police force, or the literal super soldier?

No, it’ll be more painless to just wait this guy out and see him off in the morning. For now, he doesn’t seem inclined to hurt you. He even took a rejection of you “sleeping” with him pretty well, for a supe. They tend to think they're God’s gifts to humanity. Working at Vought, you’ve been propositioned more than enough times. Though God forbid you say no for a ride on their magical dick. You’d rather not jump on that potential steel trap. You know a guy in Marketing who had his happy place literally frozen and chipped off.

After finding a fresh towel for Soldier Boy, he shuts himself in the lone bathroom across from your room. Soon, the old pipes roar to life. You retreat into your room for a long, slow breath. It’s less steadying than you’d hoped.

You also shut and lock the bedroom door behind you, for whatever good that might do you. 

Not much, you realize warily. 

You sink your fingers into your hair and blow out a sigh of frustration. What even is my fucking life right now?

Tugging on the knotted curls, you loosen them from the bun you wrapped tightly this morning. For all Vought claimed to care about diversity, your boss once commented on your “wild” hair shedding on the tile floor. 

Taking in a few deep, yoga-style breaths before you lose your shit, you dig into the recesses of your closet and dresser drawers. Your most recent ex had left at least one shirt, maybe a pair of boxers. Soldier Boy will have to make do with your favorite sweatpants. They’re stretched out enough from years of wear and washes that they’ll probably fit him. 

Juuuuust great. You're really contemplating this asshole wearing your clothes.

By the time you gather your bearings, shove your soul back into your body and leave your room, Soldier Boy is exiting the bathroom, the fluffy purple towel slung low around his hips. 

“Jesus!” You jolt and instinctively step back. There’s nowhere far to go in the hallway, so your ass ends up bumping against the hollow wall. 

Once again, he wears a smug sort of smile as he stares down at you in amusement. 

“Like what you see, huh, baby doll?”

“Put your tits away, please,” you snap, handing him the bundle of clothing while trying not to look at him directly. You can’t help glancing at his muscular frame out of the corner of your eye. 

Good lord, it’s like he was chiseled from marble. Make that marble with a golden tan, and a patch of hair across his chest that you could run your nails through.

His lips curve with a cockier smile. You quickly look away.

Great. He caught you ogling for one tiny second. And with that moment of human weakness, all that strong talk you accomplished earlier had probably just withered away into nothing. Is he going to take that as an invitation to slide into bed with you tonight while you’re trying to sleep?

Yeeeah. Who the hell are you kidding? You’re going to tape your own eyes open if you have to, but you’re not dropping your guard around this guy. He doesn’t seem to actually want to hurt you. He wants to use you for convenience’s sake. But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s dangerous, hunted, arrogant as fuck, and weirdly horny for a guy who just threw himself off a building.

Subtly clearing your throat, you move past him to the living room. There you set up the couch for him to sleep on. He ventures back into the bathroom to get dressed, which gives you a small break. You’re mentally counting the seconds. 

He comes back somewhat fully dressed. The shirt is a bit small for him, as are the boxer shorts. 

“Christ, who did this belong to, a fucking eunuch?” Soldier Boy asks. “Tell me you’ve got a brother. Because if this was your boyfriend’s, then he wasn’t doing shit for you, sweetheart.”

You begin to blush on reflex, shooting him a steely glare. Those clothes did belong to your ex, but that’s none of his damn business. 

“As promised, here’s the couch,” you gesture to the neatly fitted sheets, blankets, and even a fluffy(ish) pillow you so generously laid out for him. “Again, I will be locking my bedroom door, and if you make even a step in that direction, prepare to get tased in the dick. It’s already set on the max setting.”

Soldier Boy smirks. You fail to see how what you’ve said is in any way funny. You’re definitely not laughing, but you do blink in surprise when he takes your hand and brings the back of it to his lips for a kiss. His beard briefly rasps against your skin. He looks down at you, meeting your eyes with his own. The green in them makes you falter. 

“Believe it or not, I appreciate the help,” he says, turning on the charm. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Your lips purse. Does he really think hitting you with that Brad Pitt tone of voice is going to work on you? He fucking kidnapped you, and not to mention, is currently holding you on house arrest.

“Oh, now you want to know my name? After conning me into being your Uber driver and your Airbnb in one?” You try to slip your hand out of his, but his grip tightens. He’s still smiling, amused by your struggle. 

“Come on, what’s your name?” he cajoles.

You sigh. Despite your better judgment, you give it to him begrudgingly.

"What's yours?" you ask, mostly drenched in sarcasm. Though a small part of you is...curious.

He stares back at you for a moment, something almost like surprise flicking through his gaze. His lips twitch at the corners, wry and humorless.

"Ben," he says, finally letting go of your hand.

“Okay, cool. So nice to meet you, uh, Ben," you reply, gesturing at his overall form. You still can't believe he's standing here like an iron lamppost in your living room. Are you about to step into the portal to Narnia now and continue this fever dream, or fall straight down to hell?

"All right, mind if I go now?" you say, crossing your arms as the snark escapes its cage. "I’ve had a bitch of a day and I need my beauty sleep."

Ben raises a brow.

Shit. You bite your lip.

Okay, you know you’re being a bit too hostile to a man who can all too easily snap you in half, but he’s got this way of pushing every single one of your buttons at once. Not in a good way. In the wish I could fucking scratch your eyes out kind of a way.

You're frankly lucky that Soldier Boy just seems amused by your attitude. Silly woman with her silly fits of belligerence.

His green-eyed gaze slides from the curve of your jean-clad thighs to your hips, over your breasts concealed by a red blouse, and finally up to your chin, your lips, your eyes. You can’t help the way your skin tingles at his scrutiny, even as you frown.

“From where I’m standing, sleep isn’t what you need,” he says. He somehow manages to sound both flattering and suggestive. 

Your face flares hotter, and your lips press tightly together.

“Sweet dreams, Soldier Boy,” you say, somewhat sarcastically as you head back to your room. You intend to grab your pajamas and take them with you into the bathroom. You’re going to have to bring your taser and lock yourself in there for a shower, even with the obvious safety hazard. What-fucking-ever at this point, as long as it keeps out Hungry Like the Wolf out there. But his reply makes you pause. 

He snorts. “Good night, sweetheart.” 

You turn to look at him over your shoulder. He spares you one final look, less arrogant and more taciturn, before he turns away and lowers himself down onto the couch.

You sigh, but you can’t help peeking around the corner at the supe sitting in your living room. His broad frame takes up the entire center of the little couch. You’re not all that sure he’s going to be comfortable there, since his long legs are definitely not going to fit across the loveseat, but he’s going to have to deal with it until tomorrow. 

You watch him rest his elbows above his knees and blow out a long, tired breath. He raises a hand to rub between his furrowed brows. For a long beat, he just stares vacantly at the floor between his knees. 

Then he leans back against the couch, crosses his arms, and closes his eyes. He seems…lost. Exhausted.

You wonder if he has anyone in his life worth getting back to. Anyone at all.

Shaking your head, you quietly make your way back to your room.

Ben finds himself watching you the next morning. He sits at the two-seater table while you putter about in the kitchen.

You’re cute, he has to admit, all sleepy and barely awake as you slide around in your fuzzy red slippers. A large Knicks shirt hangs off your body, exposing one smooth shoulder. Your sweatpants are overlarge as well, which only makes him think about the generous curves you’ve got hiding underneath. He took notice yesterday. You had a lot to work with under that little blouse, jeans, and chunky heels.   

Yesterday you were put together, even though you’d clearly had a rough time escaping the Tower. Today you've slunk out of your room with baggy pajamas, your hair a mess of curls running down your back. 

“Want a cafecito?” you ask.

Ben raises a brow. “If you mean coffee, then that’d be good. Something hot to eat would be even better.”

“First of all, this isn’t a bed and breakfast,” you say, turning to him with an edge to your voice. “Look, I’m exhausted. There’s a bakery down the street. I can pick something up.” 

As a matter of fact, your favorite Colombian bakery is right around the corner. You start thinking about all the pastries you’re going to treat yourself with, even though it does make you miss the Cuban bakeries back home. You would absolutely kill for an empanada with guava and cheese right now. 

Instead of cold-blooded murder, you set the tiny espresso cup of coffee in front of Ben. His face shifts to confusion and bewilderment. 

“I asked for a cup of coffee, black, not this baby doll tea set cup of coffee,” he says. 

“It’s a Cuban espresso,” you inform him. “And believe me, you don’t want it any bigger than that.”

Unless he just wants to spend the rest of the day on the toilet. Maybe he needs to clean out his system. 

“Just try it,” you encourage. “I think you’ll like it.” 

He eyes you with skepticism, but he takes a sip.

It’s sweet, but the rich, robust taste hits him between the eyes. His brows raise high.

“Okay,” he says with a growing smile. “I see what you mean.”

“See? Now you don’t gotta doubt me again,” you nod. He watches you pour one for yourself, stirring in a frankly alarming spoonful of sugar. 

“Where are you from, exactly?” he asks. 

You glance over at him, taking issue with the way he asks the question. 

“New York,” you respond tartly. You're really from Miami, but he doesn't need to know that.

He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. What are you, Mexican or something?”

You raise a brow, your lips pursing when he begins to smirk.  

“I do like me a juicy taco,” he says. 

His slutty grin is too much for you. Your hand tightens around your coffee cup.

“Okay, a lot to unpack there, Romeo, but no. Not all of us are Mexican!” 

“All right. Calm down, Chiquita. You should take it as a fucking compliment,” he says. He raises a brow at you. “You’re a real spicy one, aren’t you?”

You gape incredulously. “Excuse me?” 

Chiquita?! What the hell is that? Is he saying you look like a goddamn banana, or does he actually know a few words in Spanish? Is he actually calling you a little girl? And for the cherry on top, did he really just call you spicy?!

Either way, he’s about to get slapped across his pig-man mouth. 

“I’ve gotten with a few Latinas in my time,” he says as he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as his thighs splay out a little wider in the sweatpants you let him borrow. “Always with that fuckin’ feisty little temper. But you know what, I got no problem with a hot tamale.” 

“Oooh.” The sound is pure and unadulterated FED UP. You down your espresso like a shot. You’re already contemplating another dose, because you don’t have the energy for this.

But you’re also reminded then, that this man came to fame in the 1940s. He was born, what, before the damn Dust Bowl and the Great Depression? He’s literally an ancient relic, a walking black and white billboard of tóxico, and he acts like one too. 

You fairly slam your ceramic cup on the dining table as you slide into the seat across from him. 

“Just so we don’t have any more conversations like this in the future, here it goes,” you say with a sharp sigh. “My mom is Cuban. My dad is black and Dominican. I’m as mixed as it gets, but I’m in no way spicy. If you’ve got me mad fucking tight right now, it’s because you clearly have no idea what decade you’re in.”

Your insult strikes a nerve, making his eyebrow twitch. Soon, however, his lips curve. 

“I’ve got you tight, huh?” he says, cocking his head. A lock of his hair falls roguishly across his brow. “Gotta say, wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had that effect on a woman.” 

You freeze, another hot blush burning in your cheeks. You can feel it making its way down your neck. “That’s…that’s not what you think it means.”

His lazy, arrogant, salacious smirk really makes you want to slap him, but you have a feeling that it’ll hurt you way more than it would hurt him. You get up from the table and ignore the loud scrape of the chair on tile.

“You know what? Forget it! I’m hungry. Don’t follow me.”

You go back to your room and lock the door behind you. You come back out a few minutes later dressed in what he thinks is your way of teasing him—in some ass-hugging jeans and a shirt that clings to your form. Ben watches you cross the room, smiling at the way you give him some narrowed side-eye while twisting your hair up into a wild ponytail. It’s a simple thing women do that’s always attracted him for some reason.

He also likes the shade of red you painted on your lips. 

“You are a feisty little thing,” he remarks, sipping his espresso. “Can’t say I mind.”

“Good. Stay here,” you hotly retort. Or better yet, get the FUCK out of my apartment.

You don’t say that last bit out loud, but he can read it loud and clear in your eyes, filled with that Latina fire. He remembers it all too well.

He grabs your wrist before you slip by him though. He hears the way your breath hitches, your gaze snapping down to meet his. You manage to hide most of your fear.

Maybe it makes some part of him twinge, deep down. You don’t know that he mostly finds you amusing. That he’d rather not hurt you, considering you don’t pose even one fraction of a threat to him. That like it or not, he needs to stay in your rathole apartment until he can figure out how to get out of the city unseen, let alone out of the country.

“You think I’m fucking stupid?” he asks.

You say nothing, but the look on your face tells him what you want to say. His eyes narrow.

“You’re not leaving,” he says.

“Well, I’m not cooking,” you counter. “There’s nothing to cook—”

“Order a damn delivery.”

“You know how expensive that is? Between delivery fee and tipping nowadays, Doordash charges a whole other meal on top of the meal! UberEats isn’t much better. Plus, none of the good places around here deliver like that. Not for breakfast at least. And anyway, I really need to go grocery shopping. What do you expect me to do, open a can of tuna and a jar of olives for breakfast?”

Ben’s not going to pretend he knows what the fuck you’re talking about, but his patience is running out.

“All right, enough. Give me your uh, your phone,” he demands. His tone gains an edge, a warning.

You expel an irritated huff, but you reach into your purse and all but slam it on the kitchen table. He takes it and examines it with some curiosity, but mostly, he retains his stoicism.

“I know for a fact you can get basically whatever you want on this fucking thing within half an hour,” he says. “Do what you need to do to get some grub over here, but you’re not leaving this fucking apartment until I say so."

He raises his brows and meets your eyes in a not so subtle warning.

"Just so you know, I've got a sharper ear than you think," he adds. "If you get stupid and try making a call for help, it's gonna be the last thing you fucking do. You understand me?”

Your teeth grind together, but ultimately, your sense of self-preservation reminds you not to poke the bear anymore. You force your anger and fear to dim to embers beneath your skin, and you nod in agreement. You then lower your gaze, waiting for him to let you go.

When he does, you slip away from him as soon as possible, taking your phone as you go.

For what it’s worth, you lock the bedroom door behind you. 

AN: Aaaand we're off! lol Did you expect him to basically force her into house arrest? 😅 We're gonna have some fun on this one, but there's also going to be a fair bit of action and slow-burn moments.~

Next Time:

You suddenly stand from the table, your chair scraping across the floor. You can tell the sound irritates his sharp ear as he glances up at you with a frown.

“You are a goddamn fugitive. You get that right?” you say, regarding him with an incredulous tilt of your head. “Now you’ve hooked me into this. I could get into serious shit because of you, and you don’t even seem to care! What…what kind of fucking superhero are you supposed to be?”

At the same time, you don’t know why this surprises you. Most of the supes you’ve met couldn't care less about the average person. The entire purpose of Vought’s Legal Department springs to mind.

Still, you thought America’s first supe ever—the one who supposedly fought in WWII, pounded Nazis up the ass, and represented the ideals this country was supposed to be founded on—might actually give a shit. Yet again, it stings to be proven wrong.

Ben’s expression had been verging on apathy, but now, he’s irritated and angry. He pushes back from the table and stands up to his full height. Even wearing your ex’s plain gray crew shirt and some threadbare sweatpants, the man’s frame is intimidating. He makes slow steps closer until he’s looming over you.

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[i-love-zelda-16]

just beat spirit tracks. and oh my goddess, i love this game.

listen to this song while you read this.

my honest thoughts. will be writing Spirit meets the chain. it is obligatory.

holy hylia this game is absolutely incredible. i played this game at one of the most difficult periods of my real life and it brought so much joy to me. who knew that a “silly” little zelda train simulator game could’ve made me so happy.

each area of the world was developed and none of it felt empty whatsoever. i literally never used fast travel/portals because 1. the overworld theme is such a bop, 2. i just love traversing the overworld because it is fun. there are always places to stop, bunnies to catch, and things to do along the way!!

speaking of the overworld theme, the music is my favorite music in the entire series, maybeee tied with skyward sword. nintendo, i am begging you, give my train simulator a full remake with an orchestral soundtrack, this game is incredible and it deserves it.

okay spoilers ahead!! read at your own risk!!

some part of me broke and will forever stay broken when Zelda mentioned Tetra. that’s really when the tears started (although they started much earlier too) and never stopped.

the character development of all the characters is absolutely incredible. Link isn’t just a silent Hero, he’s an engineer and full of funny actions and facial expressions. as much as i like botw Link, these kinds of Links will always have the #1 spot in my heart. Zelda is silly and fun and by no means useless or a damsel in distress whatsoever. in the final battle, she is the one stunning Malladus (with Link’s help). Link would be 100% dead without her. NOT TO MENTION BYRNE, HOLY HYLIA. what the character development; this man is incredible. so is his theme. he literally saved Zelda’s life. he may have saved Hyrule. Anjean, my beloved. Linebeck III, my sweet little bratty guy.

and can we talk about zelink?? they are the cutest. i like them 1000x better in this game than any other i’ve played (i’ve played about 16 games). absolutely adorable relationship, nintendo really got to flesh them out since Zelda is literally link’s companion for the entire game.

the mechanics are also incredible. train maneuvering is easy, but not too easy that i can just sit back and relax while i listen to the bop of an overworld theme, i still have to pay attention. blowing the whistle is so fun. train design and even lore is so peak. during that first segment where you have to sneak Zelda out of the castle, i didn’t even realize until after that it was a tutorial for the Tower of Spirits. think about it. patrolling guards (phantoms), winding corridors, distracting guards, drawing a path for Zelda to follow on the floor, the guards can see Link but not Zelda (revered in Tower of Spirits, they can see phantom Zelda, but not Link). what an incredible tutorial, didn’t even realize it was one in the first place.

Tower of Spirits was probably the only part of the entire game that i have to criticize, amazing idea, and it was executed fine, but it could’ve been so much better. first of all, each segment was like a dungeon within itself, and i think they could’ve made each one a lot smaller. i was in Tower of Spirits 4 for like 4 hours 😭. probably something similar with Tower of Spirits 5, although i played that over the course of multiple days so it wasn’t as bad. the staircase leading up to each level was absolutely genius, made so much sense lore-wise and it was also just fire as hell.

the connections to Wind Waker absolutely broke me in the best way. Zelda mentioning Tetra as i said before, the stained glass window of Tetra in the castle, Hyrule encyclopedia states that the guards in the castle wear green after Link from Wind Waker, the ancient gold coins having the Triforce on them; the Triforce and Master Sword are irrelevant in this story because they were lost at sea at the end of Wind Waker. this game is not in Hyrule but New Hyrule, a landmass which Wind and Tetra found after the events of Wind Waker and more specifically Phantom Hourglass (which i haven’t played, let me know in the comments if i should!!). so because of these differences, you would think it would be very disconnected from the rest of the timeline. yet somehow, it feels so unbelievably connected in such wonderful ways that make my Zelda lore brain go absolutely insane. i want to scream of joy when i think of what the devs gave us with this game. these connections are exactly what i wanted and what i try to make with Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom, but the devs just refuse to give them to us and it’s annoying as hell. the royal crest of their kingdom does not have the Triforce, but has the symbol of the Spirits of Good because that makes so much sense. everything makes sense in this game and i love it.

the boss fights are fire, especially the final ones. the final sacred duet is so epic and beautiful, seeing everything you’ve worked for, all the Lokomos, it’s unbelievable.

and finally, the post-credit scene. this scene will change based upon what answer you choose to Zelda’s question before you head off for the final fights. she’ll ask, “what do you want to be when all this is over?” or something like that. Link has 3 options: engineer, warrior, or “dunno”. each one of these options will change the final cutscene that plays after the credits. personally, i chose “dunno” because, 1. realistically, how is Link supposed to know what he wants to be yet? he is just a kid, and although he has studied to become an engineer, he has learned of his (debatable? sure, Wind made his own destiny… hmmm…) destiny intertwined with Zelda’s, so he’s a warrior too. which leads me to my second point, 2. he’s an engineer and a warrior. (ARGHH I KEEP TYPING WARRIORS, IT’S ENGRAINED IN MY MUSCLES XD). he doesn’t have to decide, he can be both. but… that’s not an option soooo “dunno” it is.

this game is beautiful beyond words. i’m debating to say whether this game is my favorite or not, but for now, let’s just say it’s tied with Skyward Sword for my favorite. i cannot understand why someone couldn’t see the joy and hilariousness of this game, not mention the absolutely way-too-epic-than-they-have-to-be-but-the-devs-gave-us-this-amazingness-so-i’m-not-gonna-refute cutscenes. like, seriously, the camera angles, facial expressions, everything, it seems like something out of a movie rather than a DS kids train simulator game. this game is one a kind, so freaking special to me, and i will never forget it ever.

may you rest in peace Anjean, Byrne, and the rest of the Lokomos. can’t say the same about you Cole and Malladus.

Spirit will be meeting the Chain soon. stay tuned folks <3

[iscdisc]

as we all know Aprils writing in 2012 was not great but another aspect of it I mourn was them not taking advantage of her possible interests. I feel like in season 1 she was kinda the internet-savvy character that a lot of 2010s media had and I wish they carried that out more. I felt like it was a way for them to carry on aspects of reporter/journalist April into the show but they seemingly scrapped it by late season1-early season2. Considering the show is also set around 2012-2015 I totally think she’d be a hunger games fan or a book nerd in general. Also think she’d have a tumblr blog she ran like the navy and the pics she posted would actually get a lot of traction lol

NO LITERALLY- CAN A GIRL NOT HAVE HOBBIES AND INTERESTS ANYMORE?? G O L L Y- 🗣️🗣️

A lot of things about the way they wrote 2012 April pisses me off, but this particular thing especially takes the cake for me because brother _what_ ??

This would have been such an easy way to flesh out her character and better portray who 2012 April even is as a individual, but we all know they didn't care about that, so I don't even know why I'm saying it. 🙃 || I agree, I think she would've / should've been very internet savvy ! Like, sure she might not be "IT support" like Donnie, but she could know her way around the internet- She knows how to talk to people on the internet, she knows where to find more obscure websites or "deep web" sites, she could easily differentiate what's real and what's bullshit or scam in the Internet- And Of course the more obvious ideas, like her having her own journalist blog or having an interest in journalism but the way that she reflects it online is different (Where She more uses her journalism skills to talk about her interest instead of actual news or something-) ! Like that could have been her thing??

I also feel the 2012 writers would have fumbled this idea because they really don't allow April to have any kind of sense of humor. 💀 || I feel like if April was really an internet girlie, she would definitely have a sense of humor- Like, her and Mikey would be sharing stupid memes and gifs all the time (Whether It's to each other or in the group chat-) ! I could also see her using more internet lingo / abbreviations too ! Like honestly, imagine if April got to make jokes that were actually funny in the show- 😭 (I honestly can only say she had one or two genuinely funny moments in Season 1-)

I also find it incredibly stupid how the 2012 writers didn't go with a journalistic / reporter approach with her character anyway considering her psychic abilities. Like?? That is the most useful trait a reconnaissance team member can have, dude. I wish our powers were more centered around gathering information and listening into conversations rather than combat. Maybe this is just my opinion, and everyone's free to disagree with me, but I personally didn't like them trying to incorporate her psychic abilities in a combat sense. Maybe for defense, sure, because I do think her psychic shield was very helpful at times ! But I think offensively it just took way too much time and she was often taken out of the battle within minutes. (Though I also know that this could also be a byproduct of them just not really allowing her to fight the same way that everyone else gets to fight- Which was equally frustrating. 💀)

Anyway, sorry for my mini rant-! I completely agree with what you were saying ! ✌️✨

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

THE WAY YOU DREW THE HEARTRATE MONITOR AAAAAA SONIC’S HEART WAS R A C I N G !!!!!!! Help im so proud of him 😭😭 he’s having the WORST time but he did GOOD!!! That’s my BOY!!!!

Additionally I am. So delighted. To hear Sonic is an introvert. I always see him as in ambivert, but he’s def not an extrovert in my book lol. A lot of people misunderstand extroverts and introverts as “loud” vs “quiet” and “party people” vs “recluse” but that’s a misunderstanding! Extroversion and introversion is all about energy. For extroverts, being around and with others is fulfilling and gives them energy!! It boosts them!! For introverts, the opposite is true - they need their alone time. This doesn’t mean they don’t like people or hanging out with friends. They just recharge differently! And I can highkey see Sonic as an introvert - especially in this au!! He loves his friends and being with them, but man…pain takes energy. And a crashout like the one he’s going through? Having people around just makes it worse, regardless of if you love them or not. I just. HHHNNG I LOVE THIS AU MAN

Also I adore how you draw pissed off Shadow. That man is furious. He’s gonna be proud of Sonic.

Additionally!!! I have to ask!!! What Tails was feeling. 👀 Bc in the panel where we see him after he’s gotten Sonic’s attention (side note: LOVE how the call of his best bud/brother is louder than the emerald) he looks…almost disapproving. Not worried. Not concerned. Not panicking. Disapproving. I need to know if this is right. 👀

You have no idea how delighted this asks makes me dude fr i am DELIGHTED

1. YOU NOTICED THE HEART MONITOR THING OH MY GODS IM SO HAPPY [DOES A STUPID LITTLE FEET KICK]

3. INTROVERT SONIC MOMENT YEAH YOU GET IT (ambivert is amazing too) Listen I’ve been slowly watching eps of Sonic X here and there and my gods that dude is so aroace introvert coded and I’m obsessed with him so ofc that’s gonna end up in the au.

4. I like my angry hedgehogs SPIKEY WITH GLOWING EYES

5. MweheheeHMWEHEEHEHEAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHA MWAHAHAHAAHAHHAA I’M ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BRO U PICKED UP ON THAT I FEEL SO VALIDATED DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG I SPENT ON THAT EXPRESSION? SO LONG SO VERY S O L O N G AAAAA OKAY OKAY LISTEN LISTEN YES YES EXACTLY YES LISTEN OKAY Tails yes I LOVE Tails my gods he’s so neat ahem I GOTTA LIKE TRY AND CALM DOWN AND NOT BE SO EXCITED SO I CAN ANSWER THIS ITS JUST I AM BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS BECAUSE YOU NOTICED AAAAAAA OKAY OKAY TAILS MY BOY. He’s SO worried, he’s worried out of his mind and anxious cause Sonic is RIGHT THERE next to an Emerald and so close but he also knows if he shows that at ALL it’s over, but he also knows Sonic won’t take the Emerald and he has to approach the situation with that expectation or else they could be in trouble. So he IS worried but there’s also that “I believe in you. if you do this, it’s on you. If you do this thing that hurts you it’ll hurt me and everyone, and it’ll be your choice to do it. If you do this you will let me down. And I know you don’t have to.” OUGH LISTEN IT’S A LOADED EXPRESSION THERE’S ACTUALLY A LOT GOING ON THERE AND AND OUGH Trying so hard not to like spam infodump here but (fun little tidbit because you noticing this made me so happy) you can see the colour on Sonic’s inhibitors changing depending on where his focus throughout part 18. It’s subtle so I apologize to those who can’t see it but I promise it’s there. Green leaning for when his focus is on the emerald and blue leaning when he’s focused on Tails. (Cause the blue of his aids are all Tails’ eye colour—) OKAY THAT’S IT I’M DONE NO MORE TALKING I’LL STOP NOW HGLSDKJFLKSJDF

Seriously dude I am ecstatic and i’ma try and calm the heck down my obsession is showingHGKLSDJFKLSJDF THANK YOU FOR THE ASK RAAA <3333 I LOVE HEARING PEOPLE POINT OUT THINGS THEY NOTICED GOSH

[xruiiii-blog]

I’ve got a lot explaining to do today so bare with me🪦 I know I’ve fell into the phase of unmasked ghouls and since I feel like and aware that my content no longer majorly based on original band ghost related stuff rather than unmasked ghouls themselves I’m actually ghosting (jaja) this app for a LONGGG time. And, this is my blog at the end of the day. So if ur not interested in RPS than you can ignore this post and I suggest you to do so☺️if you want to see more then continue 👇

Hi welcome. I’ll try to keep it short lmaoo. If you followed my instagram you’d have an idea of what I’m on girl. 💀💀💀and since it’s pride month I feel like I can’t sit with these anymore like comeonnnnnn😭😭 🤌🤌

Yall know I’m not normal after Gagachella girl. And I actually spend nearly all my savings flew to Singapore in May just to see her liveeeeee😭😭🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶best decision I’ve made honestly…I’ve post A LOT OF bits and pieces of this gagachella au of swissalps this pass few months and I feel like some of you might want to see them???? I’m giving it all girl. I love Gaga, and I love these two creatures. I’ve been obsessed with this. So I hope you enjoy as well??!???

It’s still them, but Swiss is the dancer on stage and Mount is fanboy/supporting boyfriend. They can have my heart any day.

I’ve got more hold on tumblr only allows 10 pics in one post 💀

[animeomegas]

Divus Crewel would have to be the most omega coded character in twst ever actually (aside from lilia but maybe thats just me) 🤦‍♀️that man calls the student pups thats the most omma coded thing ever not to mention those birthing hips- ̶g̶e̶t̶s̶ ̶s̶h̶o̶t̶

when i think of divus i remember that post where a student was describing how their teacher ran out of school during lunch time to greet their significant other who was holdign their baby and their lunch and im imagining ace who probably spent the last hour begging divus to round his score of 50 to a 90 watch his teacher from the window elegantly walking over (two steps quicker) to his alpha whos holding a baby and divus' lunch

maybe deuce is like: he has a baby?

and ace grouches and is like: no wonder hes in a bad mood and didnt raise my grade the headmaster probably had him return to work as soon as possible tsk 🙄 (ace theres no saving ur grade...)

Hahaha, not Ace trying to round his grade up like that XD

"If you're rounding to a factor of 90, then 50 is technically-" Like, why would anyone be rounding test scores to a factor of 90, Ace, please 😭 I'm crying, he's so full of bullshit.

I agree with a lot of what you said about Crewel, but I'd like to put forward the idea that he's NOT oma shaped... he's step-oma shaped.

Crewel is not having a biological child of his own, imo. He has things to do and being pregnant is not his style, uh uh, no thank you. But he has a massive soft spot for children and is a great secondary adult figure.

So he's perfect with an alpha who already has pups, or just spontaneously adopting strays (pun intended ha.)

Although, if his alpha's relationship with the other parent of the pups is bad, he's going to be a bit of a petty bitch about it, because he's also 'second omega' shaped. He just can't be someone's one and only, he has to be 'second and forever', that's how I see him lol.

But also, imagine him with an alpha that also teaches at NRC, and the pair of them just pseudo-adopting any child with bad parents/ no parents and taking them under their wing. That is more his style, I think.

[gojoest]

OK wait I think I missed out hugetime on the Mr vienna lore. I mean I did see u post about him but I thought he was one of ur admirers. Honestly not my fault you get stopped by people all the time ! 😭 I need the lore please fill me in on it or boom.. meanwhile I will do my own research.

ough you have no idea… the mr vienna lore runs DEEP. we’re basically the best friends to lovers trope incarnate LOL we’re like the rachel and ross HAHAHAH it’s been over 10 years of history, chaos and feelings 😭 ive shared bits and pieces here but long story short

we met back in high school, different schools but same friend group (through my cousin). at that time he was actually dating another friend from the group but they eventually broke up. after that we got super close as besties but we both lowkey liked each other more than that. you know THAT kind of tension

my cousin was also part of that friend group and he and mr vienna were practically best friends at the time. there was this one moment where someone jokingly suggested mr vienna and i get together and my cousin (who btw is basically like a brother to me, we grew up more like siblings than cousins) deadass said “i don’t want my best friend screwing my cousin” 💀

so when mr vienna and i did start dating we kept it a complete secret from everyone LOL we were sneaking around and making out in cars like literally doing that whole thing jhajahaj eventually ofc ppl started catching on and when we finally came clean everyone was actually super happy for us!

then we graduated and he moved to vienna for uni while i stayed here. we did long distance for a while but i was in a very different headspace back then and wanted to explore basically. i was the one who ended it and i actually hurt him a lot in the process. we took some time apart to heal but it always felt wrong not having him in my life

we stayed friends, like really good and close friends but it was never just platonic . ever . it was always this on and off kind of bond, we’d get together and break up, get together and break up and it was always me ending things and he was always the one waiting 🥲 he was always ready to come back the second i gave him the chance (and i know it was very wrong of me to play with him like that but i was young and confused) and honestly that never changed in the past 12 years no matter what we do, we always find our way back to each other

he’s told me more than once during those long and heart to heart conversations that i am “the one” for him but sadly i am always “the one that got away” 🥲

we reunited again this february. it started with one call at midnight on new year’s eve — HE called me like he always does and then he called again five days later on my birthday. we face timed. he was like “you should come to vienna for a weekend” but i hesitated 🥹 and when i jokingly suggested that he should come 😭 he literally bought tickets the next day 😭

we’ve been together ever since, or once again. long distance still sucks but i genuinely can’t imagine myself with anyone else :,) he’s seen me at my absolute worst and at my best. i hurt him a lot and ive changed a lot in those 12 years but somehow he still chooses me, always has 🥹 there’s so much more but that’s like the short intro version LOL

[dors-ee]

sorry i am reblogging -hope it's ok- bc your reflexions about your art really resonate with me and help me too (I follow you on ig too and already reacted there to tell you that on another older reflexion). I don't post these days, and even when I did never was as good and as popular as you, like really really far from it. Yet I can really relate to a lot of what you're feeling. And it makes me thing about my own art and how I approach it, approach the posting thing -which I want to do- and fandom spaces too.

I am getting so tired of fandom spaces too. I know they never were perfect, and maybe my old perceptions from when i was a teen were skewed, but fandoms felt different, more welcoming, and freer before. Like... much more into creation, subjectivity, exploring stuff, than following canon so closely or some specific popular AUs. Nothing wrong with those two, but it seems they became the norm rather than just... possibilities amongst others. I have never been good at creating things distanced from me but that'd work with pple (closer to purely canon). When i have characters, a media, ship, of course I appropriate it and build my own stuff on it and have fun in the sandbox. Personally i am not motivated into just... rebuilding the same sandcastle as the canon one. or fit the mold of popular AUs. Or popular character interpretation by the loud voices in fandom. I want to play in the box and build stuff, with the material canon gives as a base yes, but not like it. and whilst before I had the fear "this is from me" and I was scared of the vulnerability of showing personal stuff, I wasn't even considering "will this fit the mold enough to even be looked at?". Now it is all i have in mind when i created. Is this too personal? too weird. Too me? Will it even get looked at if it's too not close to canon?

i used to think fandom was a meeting of people around a media and sharing our creativity. Now it doesn't feel like that anymore, and it has so much toxicity. we can't share our actual thoughts, including criticisms, but we also can't always share what we just love, and it feels like being constantly watched and constantly on edge and constantlyhaving to follow norms and molds that aren't supposed to be there. (and more this is a non exhaustive list). I'm tired of it. Fandom was my escape for so very long, but post 2020 I have seen it descend into something I don't want to be in anymore and doesn't feel safe in anymore.

What does it mean that teen me felt safer and had more fun in fandoms than 26 years old me... ? (I really had a blast back then, 10 years ago. and wasn't afraid to get doxed for syaing stuff. Like today we have to deal with potential doxxing? Death threats? bullying has always been there, I know it, and I might be wrong but I don't remember being so scared in fandoms, and I don't remember threats of doxxing or death threats, were a thing. Like bullying alone is pretty bad, I'm not saying it isn't. it is. fandom already had issues, for sure.) but anyway I am totally derailing I am so sorry, I did not mean to start talking about me 😭

But yeah your own process' reflexions really resonate with me and make me think. I am also happy to see the sketching helped you so much with feeling better with art!

I had told you on ig I did it too but for me it wasn't working so well bc I was seeing good ideas sketched and yet still felt like the urge to use them in a better way, but couldn't use them that way, for bigger more refined stuff, but I have thought on it further and tried to do it more like you with more of a "learn to let go more" mindset and it has helped me a lot too!

and I wish you the best going forward with your art again! I hope those changes you are implementing will help you too!

Some art process ramblings

I also struggle a lot with procrastinating/being scared of clean canvas/being frightened of trying something new I'm not good at so I made this motivational board on the window near my desk a while ago

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hey! Its me from the posession ask. Thank you sm for your insights I didn't even consider that it could be perceived that way. I do have some explanation for the some of the questions posed .

The posession IS meant to be something horrible that happens to them. Their character growth was written in later because I wanted them to get something out of this instead of just being beaten completely beaten up by the narrative until they're no longer relavant to the plot. It was like slapping a bandaid on it.

The spirits were non-black just to visually show that they are foreign to the (fictional) country that this story takes place in. This character in question accidentally ended up possessed by studying foreign magic, they didn't seek the spirits out, and the spirits are just using them opportunistically, trying to live after being turned into something less than human. This character becomes a creature that has to consume souls/fuse to inhabit a body, but they're not pupeteered or lead by the other souls the way a traditional possession is portrayed. Not that this matters.

By more bold, I meant a switch from, dangle earrings to a Grace Jones inspired villain, more because I just wanted to draw that than anything else. I personally do struggle with my femininity scrutinized as a bw and I do make an effort to make sure Blackness is centered in the imagery I create.

(Not that that necessarily matters.)

The spirits don't have to be nonblack or even women, and this characters presentation doesn't have to change after the attack, though. And although I'm attached to the idea of them being trans, it's not a plot point in the story and can be changed as well.

Their possession is the initiating factor that drives the MC, who is trying to help them get back to themselves while also trying to protect them, so I do want to keep as much of that story as possible.

If I change the character surrounding this event, do you think it's salvageable?

Also, sorry for the double ask. Feel free to disregard this, I've used enough of your time. Either way, you've given me a lot to think about.

It hurts me that you were gonna let visibly nonblack women become a Grace Jones inspired villain 😭 don't do that to Grace! She is thee Original!

I think if you just let the villain be that Grace Jones-esque character, while Black, yes you could work with something like this. Or, I know you said that them being different was meant to show that they're not from the area, but like... It's a demon. Surely it can take on any form it wants, especially in the face of a potential victim? If Grace Jones is who your Black trans character wants to emulate... Why not?

Say it with me: it DOES matter! The things you're saying, the decisions you're making, do matter! I wouldn't be running a blog on thoughtful Black character design if it didn't! Don't dismiss your thoughts.

But also, why not just take some time and draw the villain character? Like, you want to draw them... Why not just do that? You don't have to wait on story to get the design together, and your research and enjoyment of that process might help you come up with more for your story. Like this isn't a rush or an ordered process!

[lizablackthorn]

sebchal//chewis parallels

wildflower by billie eilish

every editing in this photos belongs to me do not repost anywhere especially f1twt