#but like…idk punt his head

[melishade]

Attack on Prime Chapter 91: She is not yours to keep!

Spoilers ahead

So there was something that I wanted to talk about for chapter 91, and it was specifically this scene regarding Eren’s feelings for Mikasa:

Eren growled in response, yanking his arm out of the god’s grip. “Fine! I do love her! She’s one of the few people I have left! And even if she outlived me, I wouldn’t want her to move on with someone else! I would rather have her only have feeling for me than anyone else!”

The energy lingering on Primus grew violent and chaotic, contorting into sharp and rigid shapes. The wings lost shape and thrashed around so chaotically before shooting up into the air. The color turned from a bright orange to a violent, bloody red. Primus’ glowing eyes mirrored that same violent color.

“SHE IS NOT YOURS TO KEEP!” Primus shouted, the new voice he spoke in dripping with anger and fury. Eren stumbled back and hit the ground as the red energy grew larger and larger, towering as tall as the glowing trees in the paths. Zeke crawled backwards as Eren was frozen by his own fear. Shit! Shit!

Now when it comes to EreMika ship and chapter 139 as a whole, I think I've expressed my disappointment with it quite a few times. Mainly due to the fact that Mikasa's main character motivation has always been tied to Eren and even though he has committed mass genocide, she still thinks of him fondly...which...she shouldn't.

Meanwhile Eren's feelings for Mikasa, at least in the manga felt like it came out of nowhere. Seasons 1-3 never really showed Eren having any romantic feelings for Mikasa. Time skip didn't really do him any favors as Eren told Mikasa he hated her out of justification for protecting her. Scenes with Eren and Mikasa could arguably not be romantic, and Eren's tantrum in chapter 139, despite it being before the final battle, definitely felt off. I've heard the arguments before, saying that Eren was just holding his feelings in because of his visions of the future. But it felt like he valued activating the Rumbling and trampling the whole world more than what his friends felt.

What I wanted to do was show a few more subtle scenes of how Eren felt towards Mikasa throughout AOP. Eren keeping and still wearing the red bracelet that Mikasa got from Hizuru for him. Eren saying he'll always need Mikasa even after he was able to take on Arcee and Wheeljack in a fight. Eren thinking that Mikasa looked beautiful when they were all free falling in Moving Forward. It's small, but it's substance that's there.

So when we get to Primus confronting Eren, he ends up bringing Mikasa for obvious reasons. The deity has seen both Eren and Mikasa's memories, even bringing up one of Mikasa's conversations with Megatron in Hizuru about her deepest desires. And Primus, rightfully so, calls Eren out for his vile behavior towards Mikasa, even though Eren does believe he loves her.

“She loves you,” Primus declared in the woman’s voice as he glared at Eren in anger, “She adores you. She would give everything in the world for you. You knew this fact. You abused her devotion and love for you and shut her out! Lied to her about everything! You were selfish to her! And somehow you mix your selfish nature towards her as love!”

Zeke was completely shocked. Wait, Eren loved her back?! Zeke noticed the dread on Eren’s face, like his biggest secret had been revealed.

“I-I,” Eren stuttered, “I don’t-,”

Primus grabbed and yanked on Eren’s arm and pulled up his sleeve, revealing the red bracelet.

“You haven’t taken this off,” Primus declared, the energy morphing into the woman’s colors once again, “This is the gift she gave you long ago, and you made the effort to maintain it.”

Adding onto this, I've brought up the fact that the Primes are speaking through Primus, and if you've read the Covenant of Primus or at least seen the appearances of the other Primes, the color coating will determine who is speaking. At this moment, it is Solus who speaks, the first half of a tragic love story that ended with her life. She has dealt with stubborn fools, mainly the other Primes, and is sick of Eren lying and manipulating Mikasa's feelings for him. Eren tries to deny it, leading Onyx to throw in his say and reminding him that he has seen and felt what Eren has felt. This is also important because Onyx has also loved Solus and lost the will to live when he learned she had died. When Eren finally does confess his feelings, it's in the same manner as he did in chapter 139. It's selfish, it's possessive, it's a tantrum.

“That doesn’t prove I love her,” Eren declared.

“You forget that I see in your spark!” Primus reminded in the gruff voice, the orange wings sprouting into the air and stabbing the ground next to him, “So enough with your lies!”

Eren growled in response, yanking his arm out of the god’s grip. “Fine! I do love her! She’s one of the few people I have left! And even if she outlived me, I wouldn’t want her to move on with someone else! I would rather have her only have feeling for me than anyone else!”*

And when Eren does, Primus taps into his rage, and Megatronus, the other half of the tragic love story is the one that takes control. The one who let his anger get the best of him. The one who's rage blinded him and caused him to kill Solus. The one who lived the rest of his life in regret, is now seeing Eren, acting like him: a selfish, possessive fool who's actions will lead to death and destruction. Megatronus' energy spills out and nearly consumes Primus. And the deity shouts the line:

SHE IS NOT YOURS TO KEEP!

Is this technically anti-eremika?…probably. I’ve always been iffy about that ship.

[fazcinatingblog]

Alana Porter, who wears the same number as John Noble, gets to play her 50th game in the John Noble cup

[blog-name-idk]

The Plot Twist | 05

Written by @blog-name-idk and @eserethriddle

Summary: Once upon a time you would have jumped at the chance to live the idol girlfriend life. The cameras, the action, the whirlwind romance. But what was once a dream has now become your worst nightmare, and you fully intend to fight the universe as it repeatedly conspires to set you up with your seven perfectly good soulmates from Bangtan Sonyeondan.

In which we punt Y/N into all the fanfiction tropes and you do your feral best to subvert the love story.

Because nani the fuck, you are The Plot Twist.

Pairing: OT7 X Fem!Reader

Genre: Soulmate!AU, crack, humor, idol!AU, light angst, slow burn, romantic comedy, just a fun silly old time

Rating: 18+

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Chapter 5: "It's fine! South Korea has universal healthcare coverage!"

Of three things you are absolutely certain. First, soulmates exist. Second, the universe – and you don't know how potent its power may be – runs on some sort of karmic imbalance. And third, you are unconditionally, and irrevocably, fucked.

It is raining.

In a rare, extremely odd fit of forethought, you actually have an umbrella in your bag. Normally, you would scoff at weather predictions and dare the clouds to do their worst. But today, you found yourself grabbing your umbrella before leaving for your commute, and the skies that have darkened into an ominous, storm-like gray after your work shift do not phase you at all.

Today, your undoing lies in a different kind of disaster preparedness.

Hard water pelts down almost as if it is herding you, and you hurry from the assault of the rippling sky to the awning of a closed coffee shop to grab your umbrella. Expletives spew from your lips as you dig through your messy bag. You're so focused that you barely register someone also taking refuge from the sudden storm – a man wearing a mask and a bucket hat, but is shivering through a wet, black long sleeved t-shirt that's sticking to what looks like a very toned body.

Not that that's the type of thing you typically notice or anything.

"Found you!" you screech excitedly as you pull out your umbrella and brandish it at the sky. The man beside you flinches, like you're about to attack him, and you give him a disdainful look.

"S-sorry," he mutters, the brim of his hat still hiding his eyes. "I thought you meant something else."

Something else? Is he on the run from the mob, or fleeing the national military? The incredibility of either prospect nearly makes you snicker, but whatever, you need to get home before the storm gets –

BOOM!

– worse.

The thunderclap makes both of you jump, and you wince at the realization that the rain is coming down even harder. Unforgiving sheets of water pour down, and you can barely see even a few feet past the awning. Maybe you can get an Uber instead…

You pull out your phone to see no bars. No data, no phone signal, nothing. The guy next to you is shivering even more violently now, and you internally sigh. You can't just ignore him, not when helplessness is wafting off him in tenebrous waves.

"Do you have a ride coming?" you ask reluctantly, wishing you had been raised to be more selfish. Your mother does whatever the hell she wants, why hasn't she taught you the same? Though, to be fair, she probably would have been able to get the rain to stop by glaring. Perhaps someday, in your final form, you'll be just as powerful.

The man wilts and shakes his head, and you’re alarmed when you hear a sniffle. Shit, you are not equipped to handle a crying man. You're not even equipped to handle your own emotions.

"I – I left rehearsal because I had a fight with my hyung," the guy begins to share, morosely wiping his face with a wet hand that only leaves more moisture behind. His voice quivers, and despite your misgivings, the piteous sight of him tugs at your heartstrings. "And now I'm lost. I only have my phone, and it’s useless right now."

You start to feel a little sympathy for someone who's clearly been having a bad day. You're about to offer to share your umbrella to the nearest train station when he finally looks straight at you, meeting your eyes for the first time.

The patch of skin behind your ear suddenly tingles and–

Oh.

Oh.

The rain falls, lightning cracks, and your stomach drops in time with the crash of thunder that follows. Yet you can barely hear it over the sudden pounding of your heartbeat.

"Do you… Could you… If it's not too much trouble, could I walk with you to the train station?" Jeon Jungkook pleads, large doe-eyes gazing brilliantly at you from half of an unmistakable face.

This… is why you felt like bringing an umbrella today? Because of the universe and its cosmic–fucking–intervention?

The man across you fidgets, growing self-conscious as he waits for your answer. For a few long seconds, all you can do is stare numbly at him.

Are you going to have to assume every man you run into these days is one of your soulmates? How is this even possible?

You reach your decision in less than a minute.

Dejectedly, you hold out your umbrella wordlessly to Jungkook, and his face lights up. His smile does something unspeakable to your heart that you refuse to acknowledge. His expression scrunches – cutely, to your dismay – in confusion when you just hand him the umbrella. You shove a few crumpled bills from your back pocket into his free hand, careful not to touch his skin, and he looks completely baffled.

"For the train fare," you manage to choke out, already backing away into the unforgiving rain. It's coming down so hard the pelting drops almost hurt, but this is infinitely preferable to whatever the fuck the alternative is.

"What…? No! You don't have to – I just wanted to share – "

"It's fine!" you call over your shoulder, already twenty meters away and sopping wet in the opposite way to what the universe was probably trying to contrive. "Just get home safe! I'm sure your hyung is worried!"

With that you're off, leaving a very confused and equally charmed idol behind. Jungkook stares after the strange, kind girl, wondering why it feels like you're running away.

Pondering, he scratches the tattoo behind his ear.

He’s just about to run after you, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he opens it in surprise to see a wall of text messages.

How odd. The signal bars are full now.

At the influx of messages from his hyungs, his argument with Jimin at the rehearsal studio floods back into his mind, and Jungkook sniffles again and dials the familiar number.

"What do you want?" answers a grumbling Jimin, filling Jungkook's chest with guilt.

"Hyung, I'm so sorry!" Jungkook cries, blubbering in earnest now, the familiar voice opening the floodgates until his tears almost match the tempest around him.

"Don't call me!" his hyung scolds, clearly still angry. And yet, he picked up the call when he could have just ignored him. Jungkook hears Jimin sigh, the sound static and long. "Fine. Where are you?"

"I don't know," Jungkook whimpers as another crack of lightning cleaves the air. Thunder follows soon after, and he hopes that you're okay, wherever you've gone.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’?!” Jimin demands, suddenly all love, all worry. "Tell me where you are and I'll come get you."

Ah… warmth. This is what his team has taught him: brotherhood, love, and family. To be angry, to piss each other off, but in the end be willing to drop everything to help one another.

Something the stranger had done despite having no need to.

"I don't know where I am," Jungkook replies, already feeling a little better. "But I'll take a taxi home. S-someone gave me some money."

"Come safely. I'll wait outside for you."

Before Jungkook can protest, Jimin hangs up. The maknae can't help but smile despite how stressful the day has been. Between his team members and the kindness of the girl from earlier, his chest feels warm and fuzzy, driving away the cold and the gloom of the gray skies and icy rain.

He just wishes he had gotten your name.

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Fuck.

You wake with a head full of cotton and a nose more clogged than a toilet at an American WacDonald's. Feeling like death, you drag yourself out of bed to the bathroom, force yourself into a scalding hot shower that – for a blessed moment – clears your sinuses. You get ready for work, and by the time you're ready, you at least look put together, though inside you're already wishing you could crawl back under your covers.

Any other time, you might have taken a day off to not inflict your coworkers with your germs, but today is that stupid executive meeting and you can't afford to miss it.

You pop some cold medicine into your mouth, mask up, and get to work early, because despite your utter lack of care when it comes to your personal life, you are a demon in the office.

"[Y/n]!" calls Mijoo, one of your favorite administrative assistants. It's for that reason and that reason alone that you pull your head away from your screen to give her a smile she probably can't see through the cloth of your mask.

"Hey," you greet, clearing your throat and relieved you haven't hit the "uncontrollable cough" stage of your cold yet. "What's going on?"

"Soonyoung is freaking out about something again," she replies quietly, casting her eyes over to the corner office where your Senior Vice-President resides.

You're not sure if he ever actually leaves the building.

You sigh. This is a big project, one that is being presented to the company execs, and you really need everything to go perfectly. It's a good thing you got here early.

"When I finish here, I'll go talk to him," you say reluctantly, making Mijoo shoot you a smile of relief.

After you've confirmed that everything should as expected, you push off your desk, letting your chair roll backwards. Then you slip your feet back into your heels, stand, and give a lazy stretch of your limbs before heading to put out the fire, rolling your shoulders as you do so.

Through the glass surrounding the door, you can see your VP frowning at his computer screen, gray brows knit in some sort of frustration. You knock twice, and he looks up, still frowning. It vanishes as soon as he realizes it's you, and with a grin he beckons you inside.

"[Y/n]! Thank goodness," he said in a relieved voice, already angling his monitor so that you can see. "I can't get VLOOKUP to work!"

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something you shouldn't, instead ambling over to help the dinosaur who is (hopefully) planning on retiring soon. Why is someone so high up even messing with spreadsheets, anyway? You barely have time to do any hands-on work at this point, and all you manage is your own team.

"It's tricky," you agree fondly, humoring him not because you have to, but because he kind of reminds you of your grandpa. "Here, let me help."

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Your next meeting also has an unusually high number of execs, and you frown as you recall the vague wording of the invite. You settle in a chair next to your work friend slash rival Jaesung, who looks just as confused as you feel.

"Any idea what this 'very important meeting' is about?" you whisper in his direction, and he shakes his head.

"No clue, but there are rumors that there's something big coming up," he whispers back. The two of you are unable to speculate any further, however, as your CEO appears. What the hell?

By the time the meeting ends, you are torn between laughing and crying hysterically. The execs have announced the planned launch of a top secret flagship product, one that the company is expecting massive returns on due to a collaboration with – because this is your life now – motherfucking BTS.

And then VP Soonyoung stands, looks at you and Jaesung proudly, and says that as two of his best people, you will be spearheading the marketing and sales efforts. He adds, with an elderly jovial laugh, “Both of you will even get the chance to meet them, so go get your autograph plaques ready!”

As if you needed to be disincentivized!

"You’re so lucky!" wails Mijoo as you sit in your cube, where you have been staring woodenly at your computer screen for over five minutes now. She thinks you're in joyful shock, and maybe, it definitely is shock. The electric chair kind.

It's bad enough that you had to spend an entire wonderful excruciating evening with Hoba – Hoseok – and he is now aware of your existence, even if he hasn't realized you're soulmates. But now this?

You mull over filing for your immediate resignation, which only adds to your headache. Eventually, you conclude that your time and compensation package from Samsong are just too good, too unbeatable, and… you’ve grown as a professional here. People respect you, value you for you, and you absolutely love working with your personally curated team.

The problem is the universe keeps testing your limits. Executive meetings? Easy. Flagship product development? Doable with the right people. But passionate, self-consuming cosmic schemes involving the world’s biggest boy band in the guise of soulmateship?

You’d rather get hit by a car.

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The universe hates me.

That is your last thought as you hear the squeal of tires on pavement and the frantic honks of a car horn before you're suddenly staring up at the sky, pain flaring throughout your entire body.

A man gets out of the black Hyundai Palisade with tinted windows, and you suddenly wish that you had been truly run over with no hope of recovery. Of course it's Kim fucking Namjoon of BTS, and he's looking at you in a mixture of panic and concern that makes your heart flutter despite your best efforts.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" he asks, to which part of your brain thinks, What a fucking idiot of course I'm not. The other half stupidly admires the broad set of his shoulders, the strange mixture of grace and clumsiness as he stumbles over to your battered body.

Wait.

You return to your senses, and begin to push yourself back up to your feet.

"Yep, totally fine!" you insist through gritted teeth, ignoring the way one of your legs is twisted awkwardly, and the flare of agony that permeates your body when you're able to bring yourself upright. "It was my fault anyway!"

It wasn't, but you're not going to stick around to let this play out.

You begin to limp away as fast as your contorted ankle allows, ignoring the flabbergasted expression on Namjoon's handsome face.

"I – can I at least pay for your medical bills?" he asks as he takes a tentative step after you. You hobble faster despite the burning pain in your legs.

"It's fine!" you call behind you, getting a regrettable glimpse of his beautiful, worried eyes. "South Korea has universal healthcare coverage!"

Unfortunately, you can only wobble so fast until the physically fit, able-bodied man catches up to you. By this point, your vision is fuzzing with strange dotted lights and your body doesn't feel quite real anymore. Namjoon's hand touches your shoulder, and you turn around to tell him off. Instead, you feel your legs buckle and strong arms catch you before everything goes black.

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"You keep appearing in unexpected places, and often." Jimin swallows, his heart beginning to race. "Your skin is always covered up. You don't eat or drink anything when I'm around."

He takes a deep breath, knowing you're just a step behind him.

"How old are you?"

You hesitate – just barely – before you reply.

"Twenty-five."

"... How long have you been twenty-five?"

"A few months."

A few months. A few months since he's moved into your apartment complex. A few months since the strange not-quite-ennui and melancholy has begun plaguing him. A few months since you have turned of age to manifest your soulmate connection.

"I know what you are."

He feels your body tense behind him, and a thrill runs down his spine. When you speak, he can feel your breath on his neck.

"Say it."

“Soulma–”

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Kim Namjoon looks anxiously at the nurse checking your vitals as you lay prone on the hospital bed, wishing he could do more to help.

"I think – I think she might have hit her head," he offers, for the tenth time, thinking about the way you had tried to run away on what the nurse is reasonably certain is a badly sprained ankle. The nurse gives him a tight smile, because one does not simply roll their eyes at the leader of Bangtan Sonyeondan, no matter how many times he's said the same thing.

"We'll check for it," the nurse promises, soothing the tall man. For the time being.

Namjoon chews on his lip as he gazes at you, wondering what your story is, what kind of past would drive you to such strange lengths.

For some reason, he itches to hold your hand, but that would be completely inappropriate from a total stranger. Especially when it could cause dating rumors if anyone gets a glimpse or a picture. His manager is already going to kill him for chasing down an injured girl in broad daylight.

His eyes keep getting drawn back to your face, peaceful in sleep and – dare he say it – quite pretty. Very pretty. Beautiful, even. And you had felt so soft and nice in his arms, warm and –

"Sir, please stay seated while I finish here," comes the nurse's tired voice, and Namjoon realizes he's gotten up and has an arm outstretched to stroke your cheek.

"Uh, sorry," he stutters, face burning as he sits back down. What the hell is wrong with him? Why does he feel drawn to this very strange, very lovely girl?

A soft groan tears Namjoon out of his spiraling thoughts, and his gaze shoots to your form as your eyelids flutter open.

"Wha – " you ask blearily, waking up from the weirdest parody dream of the world’s best vampire movie ever. Shifting in your bed, pain contorts your face and you let out a hiss. "Ow!"

Namjoon rushes over, and your mouth drops open when you realize who he is. Before you can react, he's holding your hand in his, and he staggers as something in the universe fundamentally shifts. By your gasp, you're experiencing a similar sensation, and you yank your hand out of his grip before he can get his bearings.

"Your leg seems severely strained," the nurse explains, blissfully unaware of the way the world is tumbling around the both of you. "We'll need to do x-rays to make sure it’s not broken."

"I'll… get a wheelchair…" Namjoon says, in a daze, desperate to be of help even as his mind races to understand what is going on. He stumbles outside of the room, desperately hoping that a moment alone will help him get his thoughts in order and help him find the right questions to ask.

Apparently these are questions he won't receive answers to any time soon, because by the time he's back, the room is empty. The nurse follows after him, and looks around in confusion.

"Where'd she go?" the nurse asks, and Namjoon wishes he knew the answer. Who are you? Why are you so hellbent on getting away from him?

And why does holding your hand feel like home?

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That was too close. Too fucking close.

You pull yourself onto the bus by the railing, ignoring the driver's confused, concerned expression as he takes in your hospital gown and the way you're wincing in pain. You swipe your card, only vaguely aware that everyone behind you can see your rump through the poorly tied flaps of the gown.

It's fine. Your dignity is unimportant compared to the bulletproof boy scout you just dodged.

You drag yourself to a handicapped seat – if there's ever a time you can confidently sit in one, it's now – and fall into it, finding an angle for your leg that gives some sort of relief.

Despite the pain, it's the warm feeling in your hand you can't stop thinking about.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Kim Namjoon is at a loss.

Despite searching the entire hospital, the mysterious girl was nowhere to be found, vanishing from the premises as if she were never there. Still, out of personal guilt and liability, Namjoon lingered, offering to settle the missing girl’s hospital expenses, but the charge nurse expertly dismissed his generosity once it became apparent that he did not know you at all. He couldn’t even give them your name, or any proof of relation, and the rest of the staff quickly became tight-lipped around him.

Even Kim Namjoon, the illustrious 148 IQ leader of BTS, can’t argue against health privacy laws.

Since leaving his phone number with the charge nurse – his final, desperate effort – Namjoon has been staring at his phone, waiting for any news about you… news that simply never comes.

That same evening, he walks into the band’s shared dormitory with aplomb.

Single-minded, he heads straight for the living room and picks up the remote control off of the coffee table.

The flatscreen TV goes dark, and Kim Taehyung complains, “Hyung, no! What gives!”

Jungkook cries in offense, shooting up from the sofa, “My vampire baseball scene!”

Namjoon deigns them both with a long-suffering look. “We need to talk, so call the team.”

His assertive voice, usually reserved for critical matters and scolding, makes Taehyung and Jungkook abandon their emotional support movie in favor of gathering the rest of the group.

One by one, the boys pile into the living room from separate parts of the apartment at Namjoon’s behest. Most of them are sporting rumpled clothes and bedheads, save for Jimin, who looked ready to leave for his own place.

Namjoon announces, “There’s something I want to discuss. A… possibility.” He clears his throat. “A girl.”

"That's what you interrupted our movie for?" Taehyung asks, indignant. "A crush?"

Hoseok lets out an immediate sigh of relief. “Is that it?” And then he pauses, scratching at his nape, “Well, me too, I guess.”

Jimin’s eyes brighten. “No way, hyungs! Me too!”

When Jin, Jungkook, and Taehyung concede that they've also had a run-in with a very memorable girl recently, a new suspicion blooms in the back of Namjoon's mind.

Could they be talking about the same girl?

Though unlikely, he decides to ask, “Did any of you manage to get her name?”

Jin nods, seriously. “G0d$l@yeR_69.”

Namjoon shoots him another long-suffering look.

Hoseok stays silent, if only because his memories of you are one of the few non-idol centered things he still holds onto. Besides, his girl can’t possibly be their girl, too. The odds of that happening would be astronomical.

It's not so wrong to want to keep one aspect of his life to himself… right?

“Sorry, I… I didn’t get her name,” Jimin lies, for the same reason Hoseok keeps quiet. Besides, even if Jin is interested in you, Jimin's your neighbor! He should get first dibs! He's not going to give up your name so his handsome, charismatic hyung can find you and woo you before Jimin even has a chance to try.

"What's this important meeting about?" asks Min Yoongi, walking into the room with a mug of coffee in hand.

"A girl," Jungkook replies, somewhat dreamily, remembering the guardian angel that saved him that rainy day. Yoongi rolls his eyes and immediately turns around to leave despite Namjoon's protests. He has more important things to do than sit around gossiping, especially since he has a meeting with Samsong tomorrow about their new collaboration.

There's a hubbub behind him, a thump, and a curse from the ungainly leader as Namjoon's prized George Nakashima coffee table claims yet another victim. Yoongi's toe throbs, and he sighs.

"There's a first-aid kit in my room." He calls over his shoulder as he goes. "Knock yourselves out."

Far away, in a clinic near your apartment where your ankle is being put into a brace, you sneeze.

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Masterlist | Next

[schoenpepper]

Chivalry Should Die!

Intro: Or, how to kill chivalry in five steps, featuring Idia Shroud!

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread I got lazyyyy, mentions of hentai lmao, reader is not yuu, idia highkey being a loser

A/N: This is a request from an anon. Not sure if this is actually what they wanted, but if you're reading this I hope you like it. Kinda short idk I was really busy with that Jade songfic.

Masterlist

Opening the door

As the heir of a kingdom, you've long since been trained to be respectful, etiquette and decorum seared into your flesh and carved into your bones. Perhaps with such an upbringing, Royal Sword Academy would have been for you.

But the invitation is black.

Your first day in Night Raven College is nothing too interesting. You're sorted into Ignihyde (ha!), your housewarden is a floating tablet, and some magicless folk with a rabid cat crashed orientation, starting off the year with a literal bang! You're unphased, a polite smile on your lips as you gather your things and your wits and line up to head to the dorm. You go through the mirror and up the stone stairs that led to the building in its weird mishmash of ancient architecture and blue triangles and holograms.

You, being the very kind person you are, open the door for the tablet.

It stops in mid-air.

"What...? Did you just open the door for a tablet? Lolz! Wtf you're such a weird freshie lmao. Imagine being that person, idk couldn't be me ig."

You keep on smiling.

(But the urge to punt the tablet all the way back to the hall of mirrors is strong.)

Carrying items

"Oh, let me help you, senpai."

"Huh? No, I'm okay..."

You glance at the large box, clearly heavy and stuffed to the brim by whatever was inside it and your senior slash housewarden who was doing his best to lug it up the stairs as he panted. "Are you sure? You look like you're having trouble." You watch him carry it to the second step.

"Totally fine, yep, nothing weird here, nope, nuh uh, I don't need help."

Idia avoids your eyes. The tips of his hair are turning a faint pink, and the fact that Ortho wasn't the one doing the heavy lifting was really the very first giveaway that something was wrong.

You narrow your eyes and step back.

"If you say so, Idia senpai. But why don't you just use—" he accidentally drops the box back onto the ground, watching, horrified, as its contents spilled out, "—magic to...carry it..."

"No, Y/N, don't look!"

You pick up a thick book from the pile on the ground to help him gather it all. Manga, was it? Upon accidentally reading the title, you give him the most disgusted look you could ever muster.

Idia screams until Ortho comes by to help him put his hentai manga back into the box.

Always be on time

You and Idia had agreed; 4 p.m. Not too early, not too late to work on that essay you needed to pass by tomorrow. He's a good friend and upperclassman if nothing else, so he offered to help you with the topic, which was included in his wide range of expertise. The catch is that you had to do it in his room.

You knock on the door at exactly 4.

No answer.

You take out your phone and send him a quick message. When he doesn't immediately answer, you call Ortho instead.

"Hello, Y/N!"

"Hey Ortho, do you know where Idia is? He promised to help me with an essay and he's not in his room."

"Older brother and I are in the Shaftlands!"

You smile (instead of cracking your phone into pieces). "Really? And when did you leave?"

"We left this morning because there's a comic convention that brother wanted to go to."

"I see. Thank you, Ortho."

Help getting down from a carriage

You hop down the carriage and hold out a hand to Idia. He looks at your hand weirdly, hair pink as he murmurs something you couldn't quite understand (you just know it's something annoying though). He gingerly puts his hand on yours and carefully descends from the carriage.

And by carefully, you mean, of course, that he lets go of your hand halfway and trips on the stairs before faceplanting into the dirt.

You sigh and carry him in your arms.

"Eek! Is this a limited edition SSR CG?!"

"What?"

"I mean, where are you taking me?"

You look at him dead in the eye and press on his left ankle.

"Ouch! Oh...okay..."

Paying for a date

First date! You don't know how, but you managed to convince Idia to eat out in a fancy restaurant with you (if only because you know that he will never agree to anything like this ever again). The food is nice and the ambience is tolerable even though the two of you are in a public space (you chose a private room but to Idia it's still a public space apparently). At the end of the night, the waiter puts the bill on the table and leaves.

"I'll take the—" When your hand reaches for the check, Idia grasps onto your wrist.

"No."

"No?"

He shakes his head.

"I'll pay for it because...you asked me out so...it's only fair..."

"No, it's unbecoming of a royal to not even pay for their partner's food."

He is weirdly competitive about this.

Anyway, at the end of the night, the check accidentally rips in half (the waiter wonders why) and you successfully pay for the full meal.

[drabbles-mc]

All Settled

Rick Flag x F!Reader (past: Rick Flag x June Moone)

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: caught in a storm

Warnings: 18+, language, pining, arguing, light angst

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: They're aruging, they're pining, they're stuck in an airport together. We love to see it! also idk i might write more for these two eventually I'm not sure i just don't know but there are Vibes i might explore later lmao

Suicide Squad Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon @beardburnsupersoldiers @words-and-seeds (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It was perfect, really. Not in the way that it was good, but in the way that it happened and all you could do was laugh, shake your head, and think to yourself, “Of fucking course.”

“This funny to you?” Rick asked, clearly not as amused as you as he dropped his bag to the floor with a loud thud. It wasn’t nearly as loud as the clap of thunder that sounded right before he’d spoken to you, though.

“I mean,” you said with a shrug, also letting your bag slip down off your shoulders, albeit with less drama, “it’s a little funny to me, yeah.”

He shook his head, scuffing the toe of his boot along the tiled floor. You could tell by that and the tightness of his jaw alone that he was fighting the urge to punt his own bag across the floor. “Glad you think so.”

You didn’t let it faze you—Rick and his short fuse weren’t anything new to you at this point. “Yeah, because getting mad about it like you are seems to be so much better.”

He opened his mouth to fire back at you, but he stopped himself when he saw the traces of amusement on your face, that you were just going to take whatever he said to you in that moment and flip it right back onto him. You were one of the few people in the world that he would request time and time again to assist with Task Force X whenever he could, whenever he got enough leash to bring in an extra body on his side of things. But it didn’t make him any less annoyed with you in moments like this.

“Don’t get your panties in a knot, Flag,” you said as you dropped into one of the many empty chairs behind you. Lightning flashed outside, bright light coming through all the airport windows for a split second. “We’ll be outta here first thing in the morning.”

He shook his head, trying to figure out if he wanted to pace and be angry about the situation, or sit down next to you and be angry about it instead. His exhaustion won out just enough to get him to sink down into the chair beside yours.

“Made it through all that shit, and we get stuck on the layover. That’s,” he shook his head, “that’s just…”

“Perfect,” you finished for him with a laugh. You looked over at him, watching as he shook his head and tried not to look like he wanted to laugh right along with you. “Look at the bright side,” you stretched your legs out in front of you, crossing one over the other, “least we didn’t get stuck in this storm with the rest of the team.”

The sigh he puffed out turned into a laugh, shaking his head as he thought about the scenario you’d just put into his head. “Fuckin’ A.”

“Exactly.” You let your head drop back to rest against the top of the seat. You stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds in silence before saying, “We should’ve gotten a hotel room.”

Now it was his turn to laugh at you. “Seriously? We’ve been stuck out,” he gestured vaguely, not wanting to say exactly where even though there weren’t many people around, “you know, and you’re gonna bitch about sleeping in an airport?”

Turning your head to look at him, you raised your eyebrows and replied, “I’m off the clock, Rick—I’d like to sleep in a real bed if at all possible.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “Poor thing,” he mocked.

You laughed, elbowing his arm off the rest that separated your chair from his. Like he had any right to give you grief about complaining at this point. “Fuck you.”

Neither of you said anything for a bit after that. The two of you sat there in your insanely uncomfortable airport chairs, with posture that wasn’t fit at all for the caliber of soldier that the both of you were. Both of you were watching the few people who were stuck at the airport with you. Your flight had been one of the last, but it seemed like a couple others that were scheduled to leave late got pushed off until the morning. No one was dedicated enough to getting a hotel room to go outside in the rain and wind to get a cab. So you watched everyone putting together makeshift beds of their own out of their luggage, draping themselves across chairs. Whatever it took to be at least mildly comfortable.

You’d been still and quiet for so long that Rick thought that you might’ve fallen asleep. Tilting his head, he glanced over at you to find you very much awake. Your eyes were fixed on the small cluster of people who were at the gate across from yours. Among them was a woman with two children, young enough that they thought this was all so fun and exciting.

“Why do you always say yes?” he asked you, watching you as you watched everything around you.

Your face contorted in confusion but you still didn’t turn to face him. “Hm?”

“When I put in the request for you, why do you always say yes?”

You chuckled, finally facing him. “Why do you keep requesting me?”

“’Cause I know you won’t let me get shot.”

You laughed at that, trying not to be too loud as everyone continued to hunker down to go to sleep. “Yea, I guess that’s fair.” You pulled your legs up, feet resting on the edge of your seat as you wrapped your arms so that your hands interlocked and rested on your shins. “Maybe I just like making sure you don’t get shot.”

He smiled, a tiny grin that was briefly illuminated by another strike of lightning. “Can’t like it that much.”

You arched your brow. “Want me to start saying no? Leave the big bad Colonel all on his own?”

He shook his head at you. “Not what I said. I just, I don’t know.” He crossed his arms, letting them rest over his stomach as he looked at the same place you’d just been looking. “You always seemed like you were looking to settle down. This,” he laughed, “this shit ain’t settled.”

You hummed in amusement as you nodded. “It’s not.” You paused. “I’m just, I don’t know, guess I haven’t really found someone to settle with yet. Not gonna give this up with no reason to.” You waited for him to look at you. “Lucky for you, though, huh?”

He nodded, gave you a quick smirk, but he didn’t say anything else in response. You couldn’t tell if there was more that he wanted to say. Either way, it didn’t matter much. He sunk down a little farther in his chair, long legs stretched out in front of him. The heel of his boots rested just on the far side of his ridiculously large duffle bag, ensuring that no one would be able to try and snatch it without him noticing. You shook your head at the precaution—it didn’t seem like anyone in present company was going to want any of his fatigues and t-shirts that hadn’t been washed in a week. You let him have that, though. You watched as his chin dropped and tucked towards his chest, eyes falling closed even though he probably wouldn’t actually fall asleep for a long time.

“Think you’re ever going to?” you asked, propping your chin on your knees as you did.

His eyes were still shut as he asked, “Ever gonna what?”

“Settle down?”

His eyes slowly opened, muscles tensing as he processed the two-word question. “I don’t know.”

You were nearly kicking yourself for ruining the moment. Things were fine. You didn’t have to pry, but you did it anyway. You just couldn’t let things lie—it was a habit you always meant to work on and never got around to it.

“Sorry,” you said, your voice tentative in a way that it hardly ever was with anyone, least of all with Rick.

He looked at you, brows meeting in confusion. “For what?”

You knew that answering the question was just going to dig a deeper hole, but you also knew that you weren’t going to be able to ignore the question, either. Stubbornness was one of the traits that you and Rick shared.

You shrugged, wishing that you could pull your legs in farther, make yourself smaller and disappear out of this conversation. “It’s not my business. I know that…it’s just…I know since June you sorta just—”

“Got it,” he cut you off.

You fought the urge to sigh with everything in you. You were annoyed with yourself, but you were annoyed with him too. “Right.”

There was just enough of a shift in your tone to keep him hooked into the conversation, even though it was evident that neither of you wanted to continue it. “What?”

You shook your head. “I’m not doing this with you, Rick.” He went to try and argue but you kept talking before he could. “You don’t wanna talk about it so we’re just, we’re not gonna talk about it. Forget I fuckin’ said anything.” There was a long stretch of silence and before you could use any impulse control you said, “But to be fair, you asked me first.”

He sighed. “We doin’ this right now?”

“What this are you referring to, exactly?” you snapped, voice hushed. The rain beating down and echoing against the roof helped to hide some of your conversation.

“Since when do you wanna talk about that? About all my shit? About, about June?” He hesitated on it but he still managed to get the question out. You couldn’t remember the last time he actually said her name.

You were too caught up in your frustration to empathize about it though. “Are you serious?” You let your feet drop back to the floor, adjusting yourself in your chair so that your entire torso was turned and facing him. “You’re gonna sit there and pretend that I’m the one who never wanted to talk about it?” You scoffed. “Fuck’s sake, Rick. The only reason I found out the two of you broke up in the first place was because Boomer made some asshole comment and you nearly tossed him out of the helicopter. You have never wanted to talk to me about all of that. About anything, really.”

Rick’s fists were clenched at his sides, trying to keep himself from getting too defensive but you weren’t making it easy for him. You never did. He didn’t make it easy for himself, either. “Hey—”

“Actually, now that I think about it,” you cut him off, “you never talk to me about anything outside of work. You know all about me, but I don’t know shit about—”

“That’s not true,” he interjected, voice firm enough to give you pause. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat at that. He wasn’t wrong. But you weren’t completely wrong either. You both knew plenty about each other but there were always a series of walls that Rick kept up, ones that you never got around to building for yourself. Moments like that made it hard not to feel the distance.

“Whatever,” you finally said, not wanting to give in and actually tell him that he was right.

He was still shaking his head at you as he went back to staring at his boots. “Don’t know why you care so much anyway—not like you ever liked her.”

“What? I,” you sputtered as you shook your head, “I had no problem with June. What are you talking about? I barely even knew her.”

It was true. Outside of the events of Midway City, you had next to no contact with June. Rick was pretty much her sole protective detail, hence how the rest of their entire situation played out. You were part of his team that time around too, although despite being his right hand, you were far from the top of his priority list the way that you were all the times after that when you guys handled ops together. But that was the only time you ever really spent around June, and to say that you really spent it with her would’ve been a stretch even under the most forgiving circumstances. But still, you never had a problem with her.

He let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle—either way it was full of attitude. “Right.”

You huffed, shaking your head. “Fuck you.”

You angled yourself away from him, turning your body so that you were facing forward again. Part of you wanted to get up and walk to another part of the airport. It would’ve been pointless, though. In just a few more hours the two of you would be sitting next to each other on the plane anyway. There was no escaping him until the trip was over. For a split second, you let yourself indulge in the thought that maybe next time you’d say no when he asked you to tag in.

“Should’ve gotten out when she did,” you mumbled.

You heard the sound of his clothes rustling as he turned to look at you. “What was that?”

You didn’t hesitate, not looking at him but speaking just a little louder, and a whole lot clearer. “I said you should’ve gotten out when she did.” You turned and looked at him, wanting to hit him with the full weight of what you were going to say next. “Maybe then you’d still—”

“Don’t fuckin’ go there,” he said, tone low but brimming with anger.

You rolled your eyes, slumping back against the chair. “Yes, sir.”

There were only about ten seconds between your response and him speaking up again, but those seconds felt like hours to Rick as he tried to force himself to just be honest instead of angry for once. Or at least be honest while he was being angry.

“It was because I wouldn’t give it up,” he finally said, bitterness coating his voice.

Your face scrunched in confusion for a moment before you turned your head to look at him. “What?”

“She left because I wouldn’t give it up. She wanted nothing to do with any of it after everything that happened. I got that. She was just waiting for me to walk away from it too.”

“You got into this shit for her—why didn’t you walk away?”

“Think Waller was just gonna let me walk?”

You shrugged. “Not at first. But she’d get tired of fighting you eventually.” You paused. “She probably would’ve ended your entire military career though.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “no thanks.”

“How long did it take her to realize you weren’t gonna quit?” you asked, figuring that if he was gonna open the door you might as well take a peek inside.

He shook his head. “Longer than it should’ve for someone as smart as she is.”

“Love makes you stupid.”

He let out a laugh, one that was one part sadness, one part humor. “Yeah, it does.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. Not on you.”

“You really love this shit, huh?” you asked, really processing the full weight of what he was telling you. Rick had turned his whole life on its head to save June. He said it himself that she was the only woman he’d ever really cared about. From the way he was acting during everything leading up to what happened at Midway City, you were certain that he would’ve done anything for her. But apparently not.

If he laughed you couldn’t hear it over the rumbles of thunder. “’Bout as much as I hate it.” He looked over at the windows for a moment, able to see the rain pelting down in the dark, then he looked back at you. “Stupid, right?”

You chuckled quietly. “That’s how you know you love it.”

“What’s your excuse, then?” he asked. “Because I know you sure as shit don’t love this.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling in the hopes that it would hide all of the thoughts that were racing through your brain because of his question. “Just an adrenaline junkie now, I guess.” You looked over at him. “Regular military ops just don’t do it for me anymore.”

He was slowly starting to let the tension drop out of his shoulders, his guard slowly coming back down as the both of you began to get back to some sort of common ground. “That’s it, huh?”

It wasn’t the time to get into it. It probably wouldn’t ever be the time to get into it. “That and, like you said, someone’s gotta keep you from getting shot.”

He was shaking his head at you, but at least this time he was almost smiling while he did it. The two of you had always had that going for you—no matter how quickly things tensed up between you, you usually managed to cool back down almost as quickly. Some of that was from all the years and hours you’d spent together, some of it was because in the situations you found yourselves in out in the field, there was no time for grudges so it was best to just let shit go if you could. But for yourself, you also knew that there was an element of not wanting to hang onto that, not with him. It’s why you’d always say yes when he asked you.

For a few seconds it was quieter than it had been. The rain lightened enough to not be echoing as it fell against the roof. The thunder and lightning subsided, and the conversation between you hit a lull. So when Rick cleared his throat, it seemed louder than it really was.

You turned to look at him and found him already staring at you. You raised your eyebrows, silently prompting him to say whatever it was that he was gearing up for. His brows scrunched for a split second, a final hesitation but he was still going to go through with it.

“We’re…?” he trailed off, his tone enough to fill in the rest of the question for him.

You smiled, nodding. “We’re good. Don’t worry,” you shifted in your chair so that you were leaning against his side, your head resting on his shoulder, “I won’t leave you hanging next time you call.”

He chuckled, wanting to shake his head and come back with a snarky remark, but he didn’t have it in him. Tilting his head, he looked over at you and for the first time in a long time, he felt a pull of something deep in his chest. A feeling that he wasn’t sure he could afford to put too much stock in. He let his head drop to rest against yours. “Thanks.”

[deadqueerboys]

More simpbur 🙏🙏

Or argbur 🙏🙏

Or revivebur (oh my lord this man brings out the worst in me holy)

Idk that much about Revivebur, but here are more Argbur and Simpbur x Male Reader (separately).

Simpbur nsfw headcanons (not problematic as the last one).

Argbur sfw headcanons (chill stuff).

Simpbur;

Just a little bitch who need love and attention, I know he's obsessed for you, but who cares?? Absolutely loves when you show love, more sexually than any other thing. I believe that this man is more physically obsessed than emotionally obsessed.

Needs your hands on him all the time. Don't be silly. It's not for holding hands. He wants your hands around his neck, treating him like a prey.

Simpbur put your hands on his body in random times at the day when he's bored, if you don't give him attention that means you don't love him anymore.

"Baaaaabe.." Simpbur begs, punting at you while he takes your hand and put it on his shoulder. "Come on, scratch those nails into my skin.."

He begs for anything.

If you're at work and he works with you as well, he might ask your help for a "leak in the sink " on the bathroom. Let's say that when you got there, the only thing leaking was his cock.

Fuck him while looking him dead in the eyes, say that you hate him, fucking let him wrap those legs around your hips while you get inside of him with all your strongest.

Oh, God, never ask him to shut up. He won't! He needs it. That's his time with you, and he needs to speak!

He's so messy, begging and sobbing above you. "Yes, please, please, babe. I love you, i love you so much.."

Let's make a deal, humiliation sex. Overstimulate him.

Fuck this man in front of a mirror, let he see how pathetic he's while you keep going deeper on him. That mouth closed, his lips almost bleeding because he was so needy, and he tried not to moan so much, even though he loves moan for you.

Argbur;

Oh, my sweet man, who feels cold all the time.. what can I say about him? Let's see..

Argbur is just.. sweet in every way possible.

He likes so much to keep you close, not good with feeling but amazing in showing it physically.

Argbur hugs you all the time. His body shakes with the cold while he just tries to get warm from you.

The little spoon, always with his head on your chest.

There's something careful in his emotions about you. He likes it when you bite his ears, in a soft way, of course. I mean..

LOOK AT THIS ^@**@×<@*&#&#;×*@&÷<*#&#

Soft kisses on his lips, slightly fall apart when he sighs.

Your warm breath on his neck is what makes he feel better.

Play with his fingers, please.

Argbur usually bites his nails when he's nervous.

I know he might be crazy, but jeez.. he's just need some rest.

Argbur sleep on your shoulder sometimes, usually after editing a video.

Takes some of your clothes, especially the hoodies and beanies.

[thirstyforlulu]

I just saw a tiktok thing where people lay on the floor and scare their partner just to ask for silly stuff like "can we go to the store?"

Made me think of Alucard doing that, but putting his actual head on the floor and, idk, letting his body sneak up on his love or something.

It made me giggle so I figured my fave fellow Alu-holic would appreciate it lol

That is so perfect

And now I’m laughing at the thought of the reader panicking and punting his head across the room

He’s so proud of you because damn those reflexes and that kick was powerful

You apologize a million times and he asks for kisses as repayment

[veethewriter]

Hola it’s me again, here for the other request lol

How would Monty react if a toddler climbed on his tail and or played with it? Would he let it slide since they’re little or idk punt them like a football?

that’s all ty <3

Of course! Hope you like it! (Request for head cannons are not open, I told someone I would write this for them so I did).

He would let it slide, I think he would be surprised that a kid was climbing on his tail anyways. Most little kids are scared of him due to his teeth and claws. Most teenagers are the ones that like him and aren't scared. So a little kid climbing on him, yeah he likes it. He'll probably even just hold still while the kid plays, just moving his tail softly to keep the kid entertained. Eventually though, he'll have to get back to work so he'll find the kids parents before heading back to work.

[yams-here]

redesigned some boruto timeskip designs that I thought were wack

small design notes: I am very tired of Ikemoto's trend of making Sarada look like she should be at the club so I tried to keep the "vibe" of the original timeskip design to show that she doesn't need to look like she makes bank from satisfying old men. She's a strategist! a punchy punchy type girl! give this bitch some gloves and if you want to give her heels so bad you don't need to make them look so slutty!1

I hate Daemon I hate his stupid plot device sister I just wanted to make him actually look like he aged (like idk cyborgs stop aging when they reach around the physical age of 25 cuz that's when our brain cells stop developing) and look less like he says gyatt non ironically. this mf eats sand in the playground because he thinks its funny. I want to punt his ass

Himawari's timeskip deisgn gives me very much y2k fashion ressurgence in the 20's. Like yes I love the crop top and the baggy pants. Do I think it matches Himawari at all? No. I gave her a bolt necklace (she probably made it herself or maybe she found it after Boruto ran away?) cuz she's grieving!! she just lost both her parents and her "older brother" isn't as warm as she remembered! she doesn't have time to look sexy she strikes me as a comfy type girl so that's what I did. Also I hate how her hair looks like in canon like why that shi looking like an axe head Sumire is a SCIENTIST! PUT THIS BITCH IN A LAB COAT!! GET THAT SCHOOL GIRL SHIT OUTTA HERE!! since part one she's been giving student in a porno about to offer her teacher head to be able to pass the semester and I am NOT reading the Naruto verse to see shit like this

[sl112ck]

new oc post guys i hate croix and i think he would kin zim tbh (npd besties!!!!) hes like idk in his early 20s i forgot how old he is and hes like an ipad baby LMAOOOOOOOO

his fellow cultist CANNOT deal with him at all bro its like the most annoying person in the world but poor croix tho hes like mentally ill (no parents haha orphannnnn)

credits to @rustytoolhi for writing this

thats all really feel free to draw croix being crushed by a hammer or something its up to you really draw him getting punted into a tree i hate him (dents head inward cutely)

here are some songs that fit him bcuz there is no oc posting without oc songs

[4ddi3addie2005]

Rambling abt how the TADC cast would get along w the Welcome Home crew 👁️💛🎪🐛

First of all I have NO idea how they’d even interact LOL ummm pretend their electromagnetic TV waves collided or sum idk

Kinger would ADORE Frank and Eddie. I don’t even have to tell y’all the parallels between them and Kinger/Queenie. Him and Frank would bond over bugs and I can totally imagine him patiently trying to align the conversation back in with the subject when Kinger gets confused. Eddie has a habit of formality and I could imagine him being like “Your Highness!” or sum every time he sees Kinger lmao. They both talk like that in pure sincerity, with Kinger calling him “his most loyal subject.” 

Pomni would HATE Wally. That little freak. All the standing around and staring would fray her nerves. I think Ragatha would be the only one the least bit comfortable with him because he has the likeness of a little kid. She’d baby him like the family idiot and he would be none the wiser.

Also I think it would be funny if Wally scared the heebie-jeebies out of Caine. Like he tugs on his boot to get his attention and Caine is like “Can I help yo—AHH!” and Walliford gets punted like a football. Like y’all get it?? Caine is going to pick up that Wally has very different energy from everyone else and treat him like a roach. This is not acknowledged by Wally. 

TBH, Wally likes high-energy people and I can see him imprinting on Jax. Wally would not mind the violence one bit. I think he would love to watch things unfold in wretched ways he’s never seen before. He’ll do what he always does: stare in sleepy fascination. Would Jax like him? Idk, but he might get used to the presence and start talking to him just to voice his thoughts. Maybe after a while he’ll throw in a “did you see that?” Ragatha tries to shepherd Wally away because Jax is a “bad influence”. 

Howdy would like Jax. Even if the edginess goes over his head a bit, he can respect anyone with a quick wit. I can imagine them bantering instead of bickering if you know what I mean. Howdy has thick skin and can take anything past a harmless joke, and I think Jax would like having someone to bounce off of in a new and neat way. It’s also kinda funny, someone calling him a “no-good punk” instead of a bitch or whatever Zooble says.

Barnaby would struggle the most making friends. I hate to pick on him, but he lives off an engaging audience. He needs people to either laugh dramatically or sigh dramatically; any reaction is a good reaction. I think he’d make the “humans” uncomfortable. Jax especially would ignore him. Ragatha would laugh politely, but he isn’t too thrilled by phony feedback. Nobody would know what to do with him because he’s only a comedian by cartoon standards. He’d still have all his neighbors, but now his best buddy has a new friend. Is it so bad to say that Barnaby likes being Wally’s only friend? (If we’re going by evidence that the neighbors are a little weary of him…) I imagine that with Wally following Jax around and Ragatha doting on him all the time, Barnaby will start feeling a bit useless. Zooble would like him. They wouldn’t at first, but after a few bad jokes and a lot of persistence they’ll come to roll their eyes fondly at his presence. To them, Barnaby is like an innocent version of Jax. They’ll appreciate actual harmless pranks, and eventually I think everyone else will too. 

Howdy and Caine would click. They have similar personalities, always actively trying to “sell an idea” y’know. I imagine him calling down Caine and being like “a circus this big and there isn’t a laugh for miles! I haven’t seen a depression this bad since the laughing-stock crash of 63!” and they would plot very business-like on how to put some humor back into the bigtop. They’re super respectful of each other and Caine would enjoy being officially recognized as the ringleader. Honestly I think all the neighbors would consider Caine an actual authority. They call him The Mayor lmao. 

Julie and Ragatha!! They’d be playing dress-up on their first meeting. Ragatha def likes that Julie is a safe person to gossip to hehe. I think once Pomni gets used to her energy they’d be buddies too. Julie is a bit too much for Gangle tbh…

Gangle and Poppy would eventually be besties. I think their combined nervousness would terrify each other, but there’s a mutual understanding from day one. I think once they realize they both like tedious little tasks like drawing and baking, knitting or whatever, they’d chill out and spend time together doing their thing. I think they’d help each other be brave. Like how when your friend needs you to ask for ketchup and suddenly you’re the biggest baddest girl in Burger King? Yeah. Gangle would like all the neighbors because they would NEVER call her a crybaby and would always recognize when she’s being picked on. They’d react with pure sorrow whenever she breaks her comedy mask. Whether they could seriously help her work through her issues, idk. 

SALLY AND CAINE. I imagine plotting an “adventure” is the equivalent to plotting a play and she’d insist on her involvement. They’d butt-heads CONSTANTLY over their opposing creative visions. Sometimes the stars will align and they’ll properly collaborate, and it’ll be the best adventure they’ve ever had every time. Tears and bowing and rose-throwing. Y’know. 

[blog-name-idk]

The Plot Twist | 04

Written by @blog-name-idk and @eserethriddle

Summary: Once upon a time you would have jumped at the chance to live the idol girlfriend life. The cameras, the action, the whirlwind romance. But what was once a dream has now become your worst nightmare, and you fully intend to fight the universe as it repeatedly conspires to set you up with your seven perfectly good soulmates from Bangtan Sonyeondan.

In which we punt Y/N into all the fanfiction tropes and you do your feral best to subvert the love story.

Because nani the fuck, you are The Plot Twist.

Pairing: OT7 X Fem!Reader

Genre: Soulmate!AU, crack, humor, idol!AU, light angst, slow burn, romantic comedy, just a fun silly old time

Rating: 18+

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Chapter 4: "You like Pac-man, right?"

"How dare you!"

You’ve just finished entering the final character to G0d$l@yeR_69 when you look up from the post-game leaderboard screen.

"Pardon?" you ask in confusion, slightly alarmed by the speed in which a masked man is walking towards you and the Pac-man machine. Even with the mask, the exaggerated furrow marring the man’s forehead is more than enough for you to discern that he is less than pleased. You square your shoulders, in case you need to defend the precious apparatus. Well, that and protect Lee-ssi, but mostly the Pac-man game.

"You're G0d$l@yeR_69?" the man squawks, voice irate. He gives you a once over and bristles further. You can almost imagine his fluffy hair rising like the feathers of an offended bird, and he… kind of sounds like one, too. You struggle to stifle your snicker when he gestures broadly to your grown stature, incredulous even as he finally discerns to himself, “You’re not some pint-sized punk!”

“And yet here you are, humbled all the same.” you respond haughtily, dusting off the imaginary lint off your burgundy dress. “Based on your reaction, I take it you’re ‘Jin the PacMan God’?”

You pause.

Wait.

Jin?

In fact, this offended cockatoo of a man actually looks… familiar. Broad shoulders, nice eyebrows, and –

Your blood pressure skyrockets as you realize exactly who is yelling at you. Unfortunately, your temper rises faster than your self-preservation.

"I'm sorry, BTS Jin is the same stupid kid who calls himself 'Jin the PacMan God?'" you blurt before you can stop yourself. "What self-respecting adult wastes so much time on an arcade game?"

He raises an eyebrow at you with a pointed stare, and you shrug. You don't fit into that category. You certainly don't respect yourself.

"A grown woman calls herself G0d$l@yeR_69?" Kim Seokjin jabs in return, crossing his arms, now looking more sulky than angry.

"Well, it's accurate to lore," you retort with an uncaring flip of your hair, doing your best to look bored rather than reflect the panic beginning to clog your throat. His genuinely offended gasp would have made you laugh if you weren't currently running through the possible exit routes in your head.

And then Jin says, "Well, you must be cheating!"

The egregious accusation dispels all thoughts of escape from your head. Your pride and integrity as a gamer have been insulted, and you narrow your eyes at the self-proclaimed pro-gamer before you.

You’re fully prepared to defend your honor.

It's on.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jimin doesn't get it.

How could he be unlucky enough to get sidelined a second time in a row? He wasn't even late this time! But because there had been more men than women (a bit heteronormative for his tastes, but that's the current state of most official speed-dating events), he and a few others had to wait aside for a rotation. And then somehow, everyone had already decided to pair up before he even got to meet anyone!

Perhaps it's karma and he's being punished for telling his Jin-hyung that he sort of kind of definitely looked like a certain pink Moluccan bird species when he was all riled up and red-eared.

With a sigh, he leaves the building, shoulders slumped. He can't quite bring himself to call Jin yet, and so he decides to walk aimlessly for a while. Perhaps some fresh air will cheer him up.

It's a bustling street, and he nervously brings his mask up higher on his face lest he be recognized. No one seems to be paying attention however, and the people going about their daily lives remind him that despite his woes, life goes on.

An arcade catches his eye, and he shrugs to himself. A few rounds of killing zombies or racing fake cars will take his mind off things. It's a school day, so it's unlikely the place will be packed.

When he walks in, he hears a familiar screech, accompanied by the sound of a boot stomping on the ground.

"Yahhh! How did you do that?! That's not fair!"

What is Jin-hyung doing here? And what is he yelling about?

Curious, he follows the voice past the shopkeeper who looks torn between concern and amusement, to where Jin is ranting at someone obscured by his frame.

A p(r)etty sigh.

"I'm sorry this is so difficult for you to get through that coconut haircut of yours, but has it occurred to you that I'm just better?"

Huh, that voice is also familiar.

"That’s just prepos–"

"...Hyung?"

The voices cease as the two arguers turn to look at Jimin, and he feels his breath catch in his throat.

You look particularly lovely today, with a form-fitting burgundy dress that shows off much more soft-looking skin than the business or lounge attire you wear on the rare occasion he actually sees you.

And his Jin-hyung, next to you, all rose-colored cockatoo.

It's more than enough to set Jimin off-balance.

"Oh! Hi, LN-ssi!" he hurriedly squeaks, cursing his voice for cracking. What are all his voice lessons even for?

At least you can't tell his palms are suddenly sweating. Your eyebrows rise and Jimin realizes you never did tell him your name, that he just saw it on your mailbox and it stuck in his brain. Oh no, do you think he's a stalker now?

"You know this phony?" Jin cries, oblivious to the internal crisis his dongsaeng is currently experiencing.

Jimin's brows crinkle. Phony?

Your head whips to his hyung at his words, your eyes narrowing.

"I believe you saw proof with your own two eyes," you say icily, though your gaze has a fire that makes Jimin gulp. "Maybe you should get them checked? Sometimes they can fail with old age."

Jin's jaw drops, and as a constipated sound of outrage leaves him, you take the opportunity to brush past and march to the exit. Jimin, still confused, steps aside automatically to let you pass and you give him a reluctant nod.

"Jimin-ssi."

As you leave, Jin turns to Jimin to demand answers, but he barely hears it over the fluttering in his tummy.

It's the first time you've ever addressed him by name.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The twelve-year-old boy opens his hand, revealing hard candy wrapped in shiny, yellow paper.

"You like Pac-man, right?" he asks, smiling brighter than the sun.

You accept his offering, sure your own face is radiant enough to power all of Gwangju. You can't say you have strong feelings for the buttery treat, but you do for the little boy who fills your days with laughter and sweet memories. You could spend forever playing with him at the park by your houses…

Except your parents get the brilliant idea of starting their own restaurant in Seoul. You are heartbroken when the decision to move is made, but you do your best to support their dreams, even if it comes at the expense of your only friend.

Out of sentimentality and denial, you save the shiny candy wrapper, holding it when you're sad, as if it's a talisman that can ward off the lonely ache in your chest. It's hard being the new kid in a big-city school, and though you present your mother's strong facade when your new classmates tease you about your satoori, it hurts. You have to be strong.

After one particularly bad day, you decide to drop into the local arcade, because all it will take is one smile from your appa to disintegrate your cracking veneer. You're a big girl, basically an adult at a whopping eleven years old! You're not a baby anymore, you just need some extra time to set yourself right.

You weave through the attractions, passing racing games and claw machines when something catches your eye. A familiar yellow character smiles at you from a game cabinet, and for a moment you feel like he is still there with you.

You walk up to the Pac-man arcade machine with newfound resolve and a sunny smile to match.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Sometimes I wanna drop by Gwangju,” Jung Hoseok begins, taking his seat at the dining table next to Taehyung, “But then I remember they already demolished the playplace from my childhood and think, huh, maybe not. Thing is, they sold really good tteok there.”

“Pan-fried tteok?” Taehyung leans back, remembering the taste of his own favorite rice cake flavors from Daegu. “My hometown had that, too.”

“Sometimes the cart owner-ahjussi would give us candy with our orders. I miss it a lot.”

Hobi's eyes take on a wistful look, and Taehyung pats his shoulder.

It must have been some really good candy.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Honey! I'm home!" you call, setting your briefcase on the floor as your husband rushes up to you wearing a cute apron that has nothing on his sweet face and sweeter smile.

"I just finished dinner," he says, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek that makes your chest fill with the glow of a million fireflies.

"What, mudcakes again?" you ask fondly. You thread your fingers with his, uncaring of the dirt on his palms, giggling at the pout on his face.

"You said they're your favorite!" he complains petulantly, though he doesn't pull away.

"They are," you agree, squeezing his hand in yours reassuringly. You beam at him, and his cheeks turn pink. "If it's something you made, it's my favorite."

You're suddenly tugged towards him and you squeak in surprise as wiry arms crush the air out of your lungs.

"You're my favorite," he mumbles into your hair, and it's the happiest you've felt in your entire nine years of existence.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It's great to be back in Gwangju, away from all the insanity happening in Seoul. You can finally relax and live life rather than constantly look over your shoulder in the fear of running into another member of BTS.

Fuck you, fate! You're taking a break.

You knock on the old, familiar door, and it opens to reveal a kind, lightly lined face that breaks into a huge smile at the sight of you.

"Halmeoni!" you announce happily, stepping into your grandmother's arms and hugging her fiercely. She hugs you back just as hard, squeezing you with her deceptively spindly limbs as you melt into a hold that feels like childhood.

"We've been waiting!" she replies cheerfully before ushering you to the living room and calling your grandpa to come greet you. The house is the same as you remember, a comforting echo of days past.

"Oh! We ran into that boy you used to play with at the store earlier!" your grandma says just as you pick up your cup of tea. "The one you used to play house with!"

You laugh, thinking fondly of your childhood friend. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad if he had been your soulmate, rather than a group of the seven biggest idols in Korea. Or perhaps not – the things that are so simple to children don't always translate to adulthood, and those memories hold an untainted innocence that you wouldn't trade for the world.

You bring the cup of homebrewed tea to your lips, only to choke at your grandmother's next words.

"I invited him over for dinner!"

You stare at the twinkle in your suddenly menacing grandmother's eyes. In just one simple sentence, she has transformed from the kindly, loving fixture of your youth to yet another cruel, scheming matchmaker. Truly your mother’s maker. Leaving Seoul might have saved you from idol-related phenomena, but clearly not from your family's attempts at grand (and great-grand) children.

Instinct drives you to your feet and you grab your purse, tripping over the rug as you rush to the door.

"I have to go," you call over your shoulder, uncaring of the baffled expression on your grandma's face.

"But you just got here?" she says in distressed confusion, and your stomach fills with guilt at the sadness in her voice. "We haven't seen you in so long, dear."

You still, hand on the doorknob and so, so close to freedom and safety. Eventually, you sigh, shoulders slumping as the resolve trickles out of your body.

"Never mind, I'm going to take my stuff upstairs," you say in resignation, grabbing the carry-on still by the door and carting it to the guest room. The wallet feels extra heavy in your purse, and when you're safely within the confines of your room you sit on the bed and pull it out.

You reach behind the ID card in the plastic slot of your wallet and feel the soft, crinkly edges of a fond childhood memory.

You like Pac-man, right?

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Hoseok still remembers the smile on your face whenever he gave you the extra candy he would get with his tteok in the park. As well as the thinly hidden devastation on your face the last time he saw you, and you told him your family was leaving for Seoul.

Despite him being older, he had always admired your courage and tenacity, the way you would charge head-first at the things you wanted. Your unwavering support whenever he was feeling down or uncertain. During hard times as a trainee, he would sometimes picture your determined expression and feel an extra spark of energy.

He really isn't sure what to expect, or even if he's in his right mind, coming to dinner to see his long lost… friend? Play-spouse?

Would you even remember him?

The door opens, and Hoseok's heart jumps at the sight of you. The tentative smile on your face fades into an expression of utter shock, and he belatedly remembers exactly who he is.

"Wh–what the–I–" you stammer, looking just as mortified as Hoseok feels. In his ruminations of childhood, he had completely forgotten his present state of being and how it might impact new encounters. "Can I help you?"

"Y-Y/N?" he asks tentatively. To his bafflement, you flinch as if he had screamed at you.

"How do you know my name?" you ask, stepping back with your hand on the door. You look five seconds away from slamming it in his face, and despite his misgivings, Hoseok's heart sinks. For some reason this cold reception feels worse than if you were a saesang.

"I'm… I'm here for dinner?" he says tentatively, proffering the seonmul he brought. The expression on your face is so reluctant that for a moment he takes a whiff of the bag in case the pastries from the most expensive bakery in the area have somehow gone bad.

With a spark of panic, Hoseok wonders if he accidentally went to the wrong address. The house is familiar, and you look similar to the little girl he remembers, but perhaps he's just let his hopes affect his memories. Why else would you look so shaken, other than a strange man showing up out of nowhere?

"But you're… you're not–"

"Y/N, what's taking so long?"

Relief fills him momentarily as your grandmother comes behind you, though it's tempered by the way you haven't relaxed.

"But this is… this isn't…" you stammer, face pale as you look between Hoseok and your grandmother. It hits him that you probably don't remember his real name, as you had been too young to pronounce it correctly when you had first met.

"You used to call me Hoba," he says with a smile, realizing that this is why you must be so confused – you've recognized him as Jung Hoseok of BTS, and thus not your playmate from so many years ago. "It's nice to see you again."

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

This cannot be happening.

Not only is the smiling boy from your fondest memories Jung Hoseok of BTS, but he just somehow had a break in his schedule the same weekend you're in Gwangju, and he ran into your grandmother at the supermarket? You left Seoul to get a break from these ridiculous situations and not to end up having dinner with one of your soulmates!

What kind of contrived, unimaginative bullshit is this?

"These are for you," Hoseok tells your grandmother with a formal bow, offering the pretty, pastel pastry box you had refused to accept earlier. She beams approvingly while you pinch yourself. Hard.

Through the pain in your arm, Jung Hoseok is still standing in your entryway, a sunny nightmare you can't wake up from. The old wrapper, once a magical talisman to ward off gloom, is lead weight in your pocket.

"Um," he begins awkwardly, looking bashful. It is not cute. He is not cute. "And this is for you."

He holds out a fuzzy yellow ball you immediately recognize, and you stare at it in shock. Your chest is doing something very funny, like tachycardic arrythmia. Yes. Hilarious.

Hoseok evidently takes your silence as disapproval, and wilts like a flower deprived of light. "Uh, sorry, you probably don't like Pacman anymore…"

"I do," you reply faintly, reaching forward to take his gift. Only to be polite. That's it. Certainly not because his dejection makes your insides roil with guilt. "Thank you."

"Of course," he replies, looking only marginally relieved by your lukewarm response. "Oh! You dropped something."

He dips low to grab something, and to your horror, your wallet is open –

"Wait, is this–"

"I JUST LIKE THE CANDY!" you blurt in a near scream, feeling your entire body light on fire. This would be humiliating in the best of situations, and Jung Hoseok discovering you kept the wrapper from an old candy he had given you, like a sentimental loser, is decidedly NOT the best of situations.

His resulting smile almost blasts you off your feet, and you wonder if overexposure to sunlight can lead to cardiac arrest.

“Y/N-ah,” Jung Hoseok says, tentatively, but with soft affection. It is more devastating than you could have ever imagined. “I missed you too. Have you been well?”

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Masterlist | Next

[erissdoesart]

hi, wanted to pop in as a Venom-liker who brainrots on AUs made up in my own mind and share one in my head

woe, platonic omegaverse be upon ye

and Ash boy!

SO because the novel world and modern world are different worlds we can fuck with this concept

such as the omegaverse being non-existant, at best a fictional trope in the novel's world

but Ash's world wasn't as lucky, humans and hybrids alike suffer an additional layer of instincts piled ontop of every other set of instincts they already have, oh boy!

Vibe Check!! Soot lost his wife, his kids, and has been forced into enemy territory, contact and the service of another enemy right before Ash punted his soul out the body

Ash is very fucking aware of this eventually after transmigrating, and he could manage bottling his human and elytrian instincts even with how his instincts mourn his death, old life and (not his) hatchlings that never were

That would be if brother didn't also have omega instincts to deal with which in the worst way recognize Soot's loss of a wife and kids as Ash's loss of a partner and nestlings

Oh, and piled with the fact that the few friendships Wilbur Ash had are long gone, making for the loss of the few friends he was comfortable scenting with, and scenting is a social activity nessecey for health, and you have An Even More Unhealthy Omega

Also with the lack of people with any of the three dynamics thus scents those dynamics produced, Ash is #unnerved as he can't read people like before and major social elements such as scents, pheromones, and noises unique to dynamics and seperate from hybrids and humans is completely lost to everyone but him

So now on top of being on edge 24/7, Ash is bordering shock, health complications of his dynamic and other needs being neglected, and oh yeah don't omegas have heats??

Depends on how we treat heats, like does Ash start not having heats for this period of time due to how bad his health is, or does his heats become worse than a healthy heat should be, nuking his higher thought with a lethal fever as he keens and his scent begs for anyone with a dynamic to bring him into their pack so he can feel safe

and what would be more interesting is how people react to Wilbur's dynamic without any context of Dynamics

"Like what's with the new perfume he's wearing and where did he get it, what message is he trying to convey to the Empire or others?

non-snake noises and reactions are kind of odd too"

Now imagine if depsite the lack of dynamics, the messages pheromones conveyed still reached people?

Theseus can just-- tell that Wilby's a good man and really just wants to cuddle and ruffle his hair (scenting the nestling, baby needs it) ((indignant techno and dadza noises))

Meanwhile Techno, Philza and the staff can't explain the way their shoulders locks, how they subtly still and are suddenly a wee more paranoid around Duke Soot, but Snake are devious things and it must be their gut instinct knowing such deep down

(no bitches, Ash is an omega scared of everyone and you inherently social pack animals are reacting to his scared-pheromones subconciously treating them as a warning from a fellow human/hybrid that there's danger near by)

(Techno reacts the worst to Wilbur's scared pheromones because Wilbur instinctually reacts the worst to his maybe-future-killer's presence making those meetings the times where Wilbur and those around him are the most paranoid)

brain melted lol

idk how to connect these but after the Dark SBI'ing and all that the castle would end up in a whole new schedule where whenever it's Wilbur heat time the entire place is on strict lockdown because biologically mandated fevers demanding cuddles will do that to the Royal Family's instincts

no pressure on asnweing this ask btw, especially if the omegaverse isn't your thing or you know nothing about it

Ngl idk how to respond

My main problem is, this is such a fun idea? I could see myself enjoying it, heck, enjoyed reading this!

But how in the fresh hell one would go about conflict resolution here

I'm baffled and dismayed. Good au anon, good au

And thanks for enjoying my work!

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Vanessa and (plush) Glitchtrap

(based on this post because i thought of more stuff for it and think it’s funny)

Have you ever been bitch slapped by a rabbit stuffed animal? Because Vanessa has

Despite lacking muscles, that little bitch can SWING

It HURTS

Glitchtrap walks around her apartment like he owns the damn place

Vanessa is still forced to call him “Mr. Afton” lmao

“What’s for dinner tonight?” “Soup.” “I don’t want soup.” “YOU CAN’T EAT”

Glitchtrap can, will, and has stabbed Vanessa in the foot whenever he doesn’t get his way

A coworker: omg, Vanessa, why are you limping??

Vanessa: *remembers how her evil stuffed rabbit roommate stuck a knife into her heel because she didn’t lift him onto the counter to see what she was doing (he can literally teleport, he just likes the satisfaction of having her obey)*

Vanessa: oh, i just sprained my ankle!

They sit on the couch and watch shows together

And then argue about what to put on

“I DON’T WANT TO WATCH THOSE STUPID HOME RENOVATION SHOWS” “I DON’T CARE! I DON’T WANT TO WATCH THE NEWS! AND BESIDES, IT’S MY TV!” “YOU ARE MY HOST!” “THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU GET TO CHOOSE THE CHANNEL!”

He’ll sit on her head and pilot her around like in Ratatouille, but instead of pulling on her hair, he just slaps the shit out of her until she does what he wants

Someone: why is your stuffed animal in the corner??

Vanessa: i’m angry at it

Glitchtrap: YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT YOURE UGLY BY NOW HOW ARE YOU STILL GETTING UPSET WHEN I TELL YOU SO

Vanessa is ordered to buy a really big bag so Glitchtrap can sit inside of it when she goes places

Catch Glitchtrap out here in one of these bad boys

She’ll be at the grocery story, and these long yellow rabbit ears will just perk out of her bag because he’s interested in what she’s doing

“You need milk.” “Thanks.” “Yeah.”

He’ll ask her to show him different items so he can inspect them, and it looks so weird because it just seems like she’s holding shit to her bag for no reason

One time, Vanessa was mugged, and when the dude took her bag, Glitchtrap jumped out like a rabid squirrel

Long story short, Vanessa got her bag back

“SHE’S MINE, YOU BITCH!” “YEAH, YOU BITCH!”

While at work pre-night guard job, she’ll put him in the corner of her desk and just talk to him sometimes because she gets bored punching numbers into a keyboard all day

“Idk, sometimes it all feels so futile, you know?” “Why do you think I went into the engineering business? It’s better than this.” “I guess so. But doesn’t engineering take some level of desk job experience? And, besides, it isn’t all just building robots for fun.” “You’ve got me there. You pulled the short stick.”

Whenever Glitchtrap sees a typo in whatever Vanessa is typing, he’ll smack her hands aside with his little paws and start revising it himself

“Are you trying to make us look stupid?? Here, let ME do it.”

Once she gets her night guard job, he’ll sometimes go with her to work and will actively walk around beside her, since it’s not like he’ll be caught

Whenever Vanessa hears an animatronic coming, she punts him away like a football

Freddy: who were you talking to?

Vanessa: what? oh, i had a phone call!

Gltichtrap, at the other side of the room: OW YOU WHORE

Glitchtrap would definitely try to fistfight Mini Music Man

Glitchtrap, to his old body down in the old pizzeria: look at me, Vanessa. this was me in my PRIME!

Vanessa: you in your prime looks a lot like a gross corpse,,

She got smacked real hard for that one

He usually oversees the work on the Burntrap body in this form

By this I mean that he literally sits on her shoulder and makes sure she doesn’t do Anything Wrong

Glitchtrap: i can’t see. put me up high.

Vanessa: *puts Glitchtrap on her shoulder*

Glitchtrap: much better!

This but it’s Vanessa and Glitchtrap

[xi-off]

roleswap! it's shou time :D

i like to call this set "shou gets harassed by his sisters forever" lmao

anyway yeah this is for for the silly ghost head sequel rambling i mentioned in the last post. (said sequel is set ten years after the first game and follows yuu and shou on their paranormal investigating adventures.) im planning 3 cases to match up with the 3 chapters in the first game ^__^

some point during case 3 yuu is shown a theoretical timeline where she died before the events of the first game ft. the takano family being entirely alive (which i also wanted to draw today but getting these two pics done killed me -__-). shes offered the choice to make that timeline a reality, at which point a route splitting player choice happens:

decline: game continues towards ending A (im trying to 1:1 all the first games endings lol)

accept: fujika breaks out of getting puppeted around by as-of-yet-undecided entity and shoots yuu, which "resets" shou to the beginning of the first game entirely sans yuu. he still remembers the second game up to the point fujika shot yuu, so he freaks out and then speedruns up to ending H. i havent decided what happens after that except fujika reveals shes been stuck in a timeloop or something because this is the only in-universe explanation i can come up with for her random behavior in the first game lmaooooo. anyway yeah that's ending H the second and first pic above

consider: yuu gets punted back to the beginning of the first game but with a proper timeline recalibration. yuu (going by rin) is now the malevolent ghost and shou (going by yuu*) is the delinquent murder child dropping in osaka. this one heavily implies shou is the dead twin theory but idk if im confirming it for this ending yet. also i dont really know where this is going either besides The Disaster Zone. and thats ending D , second image above, yay

*yuu is a pretty common unisex name and uh . i was trying to find some kind of pattern between shou and yuus names (since rin is heavily theorized to be a slight match with the takano kids season-based names) but couldnt find anything that looked intentional. so shou gets to suffer our guy takashi's naming skillz because i thought shouyu (t/n: that means soy sauce) was funny. and calling him shou like a normal person was the quitters route

ok that was incoherent ! thanks for reading :D as reward for scrolling this far here is a terrible observation i made while figuring out shous hair

[mcl38]

they haven't quite turned on vcarb the way they did mclaren but from what i've read that seems to be bc daniel keeps saying "it's not the same problem as mclaren" when like idk dude if the only time you've finished a race ahead of yuki was bc you got put on softs at the end of the race it is smelling very shades of mexico '22 to me. just without the having to make up a time penalty bc u punted yuki off the track.

i can say yuki is already getting the lando treatment though. "hOW MANY RACES HAS HE WON AND YOU DARE SAY HES PERFORMING BETTER THAN AN 8 TIME GP WINNER?" (ya i'll go to the top floor of my apartment and shout it into the void through a megaphone too what are you going to do about it) only this time there's a heavy dose of racism added in. the amount of people i have seen calling yuki a "pokémon" derogatorily and refusing to admit the racist connotations there are wild. not to mention the ableist terms i've seen be used to refer to his height. it's all very gross and yet again daniel says nothing to even try to prevent it. it's wild how someone always has to get harassed by his fans regardless of if he fails or succeeds.

ok so like first of all yikes. i rly rate yuki but im v selective w my online (especially my tumblr)

experience so i rly almost never venture out of my mclaren-centred bubble, which means i never rly see what ppl say abt him. 'pokemon' is actually vile like thats so clearly racist bc its not even a pun of his name at all or any sort of reference to his personality?? AND the fact that its a cartoon w the infantilising implications of that... ku's essay on the infantilisation of east asian drivers u will always be famous.... like u guys ever noticed how nyck is also rly short and has a youthful face and nobody ever talked abt him in the way they talk abt yuki? much to think abt

now. permission to be mean here but even if its 'not the same problem as mclaren' is the problem not STILL the fact that daniel in his 10+ year career hasnt bothered to understand the way the engineering of f1 cars works in like any material way and thats the reason he always struggles to identify his driving issues / has a disconnect with his chassis unless its tailored exactly to what he already likes and knows how to drive? i saw that bit from newey's book about how max and checo give rly good feedback and so did webber and vettel and it was kind of subtly implying that during the bit in between (the daniel era) he designed less effective cars be he wasnt getting enough precise feedback.... i genuinely havent been able to sleep at night since. like it felt like smth slotted in my head like aaaah this has been the problem all along. if only daniel wasnt so busy going on podcasts making fun of the idea of women in motorsport and actually spent some time to do some way overdue physics homework... lol. Imao even

the truth of the situation is yuki is in the best form of his career and also wiping the floor w daniel. like factually so. EVEN with team orders favouring daniel so his fans cant say its bc of that like they did with mclaren. i genuinely think its quite sad the amount of personal stock daniel fans have clearly invested in this mans career and how much it bothers them when he doesnt perform to their expectations - like he's ur driver, swallow it and accept it, because thats what he's been doing to try to move on. doing all this intense online hate bullshit only makes him look bad bc it highlights how badly and for how long he rly has been embarrassingly underperforming. but by this point it feels like they WANT him to underperform bc they crave that martyr underdog victimised figure to root for and fight for - which is why ur totally right anon, that someone always inevitably gets harrassed regardless of if daniel is failing or succeeding. 

i will say one thing which is that i rly dont think daniel is at all aware of whatever the fuck his fans do on twitter and instagram (and deffo not tumblr lmao). so i dont think this is an issue of like him telling his fans to chill out - and it doesnt work anyways, bc lando literally has made talking abt how much cyberbullying sucks a part of his personality and theres still some rly mean and hateful lando fans (not in a fun way like me<3 lol) (i hate on my own blog and in discord groupchats). so like thats not necessarily on him, its more on netflix for making him the lowest common denominator guy to like, ykwim? also the unfortunate reality is that despite the tshirts and the kneeling (or no kneeling) no one rly seems to stand up to defend the drivers of colour who literally constantly get SUCH vitriol thrown towards them w any occasion. im not expecting daniel of all ppl to say anything abt it ngl