#can you eat the moon

[oobbbear]

Warnings(?) for smooches and bitings

I’ve gathered another 10 for a doodle post

Gitm belongs to @venomous-qwille !!!

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 168

So. Apparently halfas are like phoenixes or something, which Danny would’ve really liked to know. 

See, usually with ghosts if they’re forced to retreat to their cores they reform as was, but apparently, since they’re still partially living, schrodinger's people and all that, halfas have to regrow their body from scratch. At least that’s what he’s understanding from Frostbite. 

But how come he has to deal with it? It’s Dan’s fault for trying to pull such a stunt! Oh, it’s either him or Vlad? Well fuck, he might have calmed down and is going to therapy in both the living realm and the Zone, but he’s waaay not equipped to raise a child except for like, monetarily wise. 

Well dammit, how long will this core incubation thing last, he has his new job in… let him check which offer he accepted again… He has his new job in Coast City that he needs to finish packing for and then all the rest of the stuff to do. 

What do you mean it’ll take months?! He doesn’t have months?! Urgh, fine. At least being a mortician isn’t that exciting, nor dangerous. Just hand him Dan’s core and he’ll figure things out for the living side of things. He’s sure Tucker and Sam wouldn’t be against helping, if only to try and claim favorite aunt or uncle spots. 

[serpentface]

This was going to be a panel of a little comic but I got too invested in drawing minute background details so, here.

[bitchfitch]

idk at some point I think we need to stop lying to city people about what a no light pollution night sky looks like bc some of the saturation boosted long exposures folk are using as proof of what the nebulous they have taken from you are getting silly.

like this is a photo from the McDonald observatory obviously, but this is like. almost what you would actually be seeing under decent but not exceptional circumstances (ie sea level with low moisture/dust in the air, and no time spent intentionally avoiding light before hand)

[reasonablyneurotic]

Hey. Waving towards the three other guys into pjmoon and tma. I uhm. Assigned the limbus guys tma entities below the cut. Smile. Sorry if it’s inaccurate I am open to fighting in a parking lot for my honour. But do feel free to share your thoughts and suggestion on the matter !!!! I would love to hear and discuss

Yi Sang

marked by the web and the stranger (unsure on how the deal w sang yi would count here…)

aligned w the lonely 

Faust:

the eye avatar ((obviously))

Heavily marked by the web (the fauschaft……..)

Don Quixote

spiral spiral spiral the throat of delusion incarnate 

Possibly also aligned w the hunt (the endless hunt after justice? Maybe?) 

Ryoshu

Marked by the desolation lol

Maybe even aligned w the flesh? In the human garden sense

Meursault

Marked by the strangerrrr and the eye due to.  Feeling like his behaviour is constantly being watched and deemed as inhuman  

A bit unsure on what entity would resonate the most with him? Maybe the buried … I think he would like just laying in a grave  

Hong Lu

the stranger the corruption and the web are all having a tea party

Personally I think he’s aligned w the vast  …. Longing for sky blue 

Heathcliff

marked by the web? And the buried (constantly being overwhelmed and “”buried”” (haha get it?) by other people’s expectations and having to play by other people’s expectations. And stuff.  Gestures vaguely) 

Aligned with the hunt (searching after Cathy    acceptance love……)

Ishmael

marked by the dark  ….. the vast (the whaleeeeeeee) …: and the web….. (ahab is an avatar of the web) 

And maybe even aligned w the desolation? Maybe? Burning down her old life for a new one 

Rodion

hmmmmmmmm Avatar of the flesh maybe ….. or the web …….. that one gambling ep in tmp

marked by the desolation 

Sinclair 

I have no fucking clue

Marked by? The dark? Maybe? Seeing something he didn’t comprehend w Kromer? 

Avatar of the flesh with a star next to his name? Due to Artist stuff?

edit: reading the notes I have to agree he’s def aligned w the desolation idk why it didn’t cross my mind …. Aligned with the desolation and marked by the flesh, the dark and stranger. Oooh boy

Outis:

HEAVILY marked by the slaughter and the vast 

Aligned with the end and stranger #lowkey

Gregor 

the corruption avatar.  Obviously 

Except that marked by the web 

[kaiser1ns]

TAKIISHI CHIKA IN CHAPTER 153

[crabsnpersimmons]

Crab crab, here I am to say again how adorable and pretty your art is at the point I want to BITE IT

[and keep your Chibis safe because I want to bite them so much /affectionate]

awwww thank you, Niko!!

yknow what, i kinda get it. the chibis give off a "fruit candy made with real fruit" kind of vibe to me haha

and don't worry, they have their caretaker Y/N* watching over them:

Y/N: please don't bite the kids.

Sun and Moon signs: (your dentist will be disappointed.)

Y/N: i mean yeah?? but also?? don't bite kids?? period??

*Y/N is an ex-Fazbear technician! they built Sun and Moon's chibi bodies to fulfill a promise to an old friend

[celestial-toys]

That I Would Be Good [3/5]

Whatever It's Worth

“For whatever it’s worth, I think it always looks fine. I think you fuss over it too damn much, but regardless… it’s… fine. You always look fine to me. You’d look fine even if you didn’t have any hair at all.”

A small smile blooms across your features as his words sink in. “That’s… that’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given me, Sun.”

You turn and he lets the ends of your hair slip from his hands, looking a bit caught off guard at your sudden motion. You ignore his false eyes and look directly into the camera in the center of his screen. “Thank you.”

He remains frozen for a moment before his display dims to black and he turns, quickly scrubbing the worst remnants of conditioner off of his hands and onto a nearby towel. “I think your hair has been conditioned enough.”

- - - - - - -

In This Chapter

Sun attempts some level-headed honesty with his hands in your hair, and Moon gets a little overzealous when it comes to his unofficial position as Household Chef.

Pairing: Sun x Moon x Reader

Word Count: 4,779

Contains: [AU - Real World | Sentient AI/Automatons | Personality Swap] [implied EDNOS] [invasion of privacy] [implication of past self-harming behavior] [Reader has their period (not graphically described)] [discussion of menstruation] [discussion of various foods and nutrition] [one (1) use of a fem gendered term for Reader] [discussion and feelings of dysphoria] [eating]

A/Ns: This is a songfic. Lyrics and title are from ‘That I Would Be Good’ by Alanis Morissette.

This fic is part of my AU “[Not] Made by Design”, the full series can be found here.

Links to other parts of this fic: [Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.3 (you are here)] [Ch.4] [Ch.5]

That I would be good if I lost my hair and my youth.

After rinsing the remainder of lightly-tinted soap suds out of your hair, off of your body, and down the drain, you bend down to turn the shower off. Gently squeezing the worst of the water out of your locks, you straighten back up and pull the shower door aside.

Then you shout.

“SUN! What the fuck are you doing?!”

You quickly step behind the blurry frosted glass of the shower door, leaving only your head peeking around the edge. You shiver in the relatively cold air that rushes to fill the shower stall as you await an answer. The solar automaton is currently leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed and casual as ever, monitor flipped around 180 degrees in what you assume was meant to be a silent assurance that he wasn’t watching you.

“I have a question.”

Your eyes pinch closed and your features scrunch up in frustration, silently asking any higher power out there to grant you the patience to deal with this nonsense. “And it couldn’t wait until I got dressed?”

He shrugs. “I don’t see why it would need to.”

You silently press your forehead against the cool metal of the shower door’s frame.

“…Are you decent yet or must I continue admiring the grout between the tiles on this wall behind me?”

You huff, reaching out of the shower and grabbing your bathrobe off of its designated hook. “Just one… damn second…” You cinch the rope around your waist and step gingerly out onto the bath mat. “Okay, I’m ‘decent.’ Now—pray tell—what do you need to ask me?”

He leans his upper body away from the wall, rays retracting to give himself enough clearance to flip his monitor around. His rays slide back out in tandem after he turns his head to face you, and he rests his shoulders against the wall once more. “I was wondering why you’ve taken three showers today.”

You stand there, blinking in disbelief. “That’s it?”

“Yes. It’s… concerning. I wanted to make sure you weren’t up to any… harmful behaviors in here while left unsupervised.”

You roll your eyes. “‘Left unsupervised…’ What is this, some kind of inpatient program? Christ, Sun, this is my house! Can’t I catch a break?”

You throw your arms up in frustration, and he doesn’t answer you immediately. It isn’t until you deflate, dropping your exaggerated expression and bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose that he finally responds in a quieter tone. “You… concern me. I don’t know what to do.”

You sigh, trying to reign in your frustration.

Sometimes you forget that he has a lot less experience with being a person than you do.

You try to cut him some slack. “Sun, I appreciate the concern over my wellbeing. But I promise you, the only destructive behavior going on in this bathroom today is the damage I'm doing to my hair.”

He’s quiet, processing your words for a moment before he announces an observation. “It’s a lighter shade than it was this morning.”

You nod. “I sure hope it is. I’ve been in here washing the hell out of it with this fading treatment, trying to get the color I wanted.”

His expression is something between confused and disapproving. “You aren’t supposed to do that. It’s bad for your hair to wash it so much.”

You turn to the mirror and toy with your hair, dismissing him. “Yeah, yeah. Jeez, who are you, my hairdresser?”

He steps into view beside you in the mirror, leaning in closer to examine your hair. “Maybe if you’d gone to one instead of DIY-ing it you’d have gotten the color you wanted.”

You lock eyes with his reflection for a long moment. “…Touché.”

He seems pleased enough with your response, stepping back a bit and watching you futz with your hair in the mirror.

“Have your concerns been quelled now, or…?”

“…I suppose.” He replies, making no move to exit the bathroom.

“…Well then are you gonna just stand there and watch me apply my leave-in conditioner or what?”

He ignores your question, leaning in close to you again. Pinching the end of a damp lock of hair between the pads of his fingers, he hums his dissent. “You really need to quit fucking with your hair if you want to still have any left.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Goodness, the way you worded that almost sounds like a threat!”

His eyes meet yours in the mirror again and he smirks. “No… just a warning.”

He drags the tail end of your hair along the palm of his opposite hand, like idly toying with a paintbrush. “You’re always awfully concerned about the appearance of your hair.”

You cock a brow up at that. “Are you sure that isn’t a threat, Sun?”

A noise escapes him: half-scoff, half-laugh, and he sounds oddly genuine when he reassures you. “It’s not. I just… noticed.”

He releases your hair and you can finally lean far enough away to open the cabinet. “Mhm. What don’t you notice.”

He ignores your comment in favor of hitting you with another set of sudden left-field questions. “Are you afraid of getting older? Or are you afraid of losing control.”

Your hand halts, hovering halfway toward retrieving the conditioner from the cabinet, and drops back down to your side as you turn to face him. “What?”

“I’ve learned that some people dye their hair because they want to appear younger than they are. I’ve also seen many posts online where people describe making drastic changes to their hair while going through something difficult in their life. The concept appears in a number of song lyrics too. It seems to me like an attempt at gaining a sense of control.”

The fun thing about living with sentient, learning AI is that they’re always asking questions and compiling information about the world around them.

The not-so-fun thing about living with sentient, learning AI is that they’re always asking questions and compiling information about the world around them.

You’d liken it to having a fully grown adult with the curiosity and learning capacity of a child, if you didn’t want to feel even weirder about your “Creator x Creation” dynamic than you already do sometimes.

“While I… appreciate your attempts to psychoanalyze me based on my hair-dyeing habits, I regret to inform you that it’s neither of those things for me, Sunny.” You consider it a moment more, and add on. “…As far as I’m aware, at least.”

His head tilts to the side a bit. “You don’t have to patronize me.”

“I… wasn’t?”

“You used that name for me. ‘Sunny.’ It made your statement sound… patronizing.”

Another fun thing about living with sentient, learning AI is that you get to clear up all sorts of little miscommunications.

“Oh, no, I—I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I’m sorry, Sun. That wasn’t my intention.”

He doesn’t let it go so quickly. “Based on my calculations, a nickname like that tends to be used in one of three ways—patronizing, dismissive, or affectionate. Care to clarify which one it was?”

You level him with an unamused stare. “No, I don’t care to clarify.”

You then turn to retrieve the conditioner from the cabinet, effectively shutting down that line of questioning. You grab the body lotion while you’re at it, and as you set your items down on the counter, you attempt to free yourself of your overly-curious bathroom companion. “Unless you’re waiting around to help me put this stuff in my hair, I'm afraid it’s time for you to go find something else to do for a little while, Sun.”

His response is… unexpected. “I… can help.”

What has gotten into this guy recently? Used to be you had to fight to get one nice word out of him and now here he is playing ‘20 Questions’ and offering to condition your hair?

“I… didn’t expect you to actually—”

“If you didn’t want me to offer then why’d you ask?”

You squint at him, unamused. “Sun, c’mon, I know you grasp the concepts of sarcasm and rhetoric.”

Once again ignoring your statement, he pushes himself away from the wall and holds out his upturned palms in an open gesture of offering. “Would you like me to help or not?”

You’re quite sure he expects you to turn him down, so you agree to his offer, if for no other reason than to subvert his expectations. “You know what? Yeah, sure. I’d love the help, Sunny.”

He freezes for a moment—processing��but you’ve gotta admit, he collects himself surprisingly fast, apparently feeling up to the challenge.

Once you explain how much of the product to use and how to apply it, you quickly find yourself staring into the mirror, watching Sun carefully and methodically work conditioner into your hair and wondering how you got here.

Eventually a question pops up and you break through his focused silence. “Does it really look lighter than it did earlier today?”

“…Yes. But if you want my honest opinion it looked just fine before you scrubbed the life out of it three times.”

You huff in surprise at his bluntness. “Damn, okay, tell me how you really feel…”

“When have you ever known me to mince my words?”

“I know, I know. It’s fine. I appreciate your honesty.”

Silence settles over the two of you for another few moments, but he eventually pipes back up. “For whatever it’s worth, I think it always looks fine. I think you fuss over it too damn much, but regardless… it’s… fine. You always look fine to me. You’d look fine even if you didn’t have any hair at all.”

A small smile blooms across your features as his words sink in. “That’s… that’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given me, Sun.”

You turn and he lets the ends of your hair slip from his hands, looking a bit caught off guard at your sudden motion. You ignore his false eyes and look directly into the camera in the center of his screen. “Thank you.”

He remains frozen for a moment before his display dims to black and he turns, quickly scrubbing the worst remnants of conditioner off of his hands and onto a nearby towel. “I think your hair has been conditioned enough.”

Your tone quickly becomes teasing. “Aww, is somebody flustered?”

He reaches for the doorknob. “It’s time for me to walk Zero. I trust you can moisturize the rest of yourself without my assistance.”

Quickly making his very smooth retreat, as your laughter subsides, you’re left there to apply your lotion in thoughtful silence.

That I would be great if I was no longer Queen.

“Does this feel more like an ‘apple-cinnamon’ or ‘banana-walnut’ kind of day?”

You release a soft sigh as you raise your head from where it’d been… briefly planted atop your crossed arms, and you lean back into your seat at the kitchen table. “You really don’t have to do every single thing for me, Moon.”

His monitor clicks, spinning a few degrees back and forth to accompany his playful rebuttal. “And leave me with no task to occupy these idle hands? Why, I feel like that’d be just cruel.” The pout he wears doesn’t do much to convince you, nor to ease the guilt you feel.

He can tell as much, and tries a more serious approach. “Star… you’re menstruating. From what I can tell, this is a more painful period than normal. I’m sure in no small part due to the excess stress you’ve been under this past month. You deserve to rest as much as possible right now.”

“I figured you’d be in favor of me getting up and moving around. Isn’t that supposed to help in the long-run?”

He nods. “It can. But it tends to help the most when stretching and physical activity is maintained throughout the entire monthly cycle, not just once you’re already bleeding and in pain.”

His explanation is straightforward, but soft spoken, everything in his tone and body language obviously trying not to offend, accuse, or criticize. “Besides, bugging you to exercise tends to fall more under Sun’s jurisdiction, and he’s had his reasons for prioritizing other aspects of your well-being this month.”

Speak of the devil, Moon’s other half strides into the kitchen with Zero trailing closely behind. He has no trouble falling into the conversation. “I can help you through some gentle stretches later today if you’d like, but I second the notion that you should rest right now. I don’t need to hear any more groans and curses from you like I heard after you insisted on cleaning up the living room and prepping your own dinner last night.”

You rest your chin in your palm. “I ‘insisted’ because I just… I feel like I put too much on you guys. You don’t deserve to have to do all this shit for me.”

Sun scoffs, speaking with his back to you as he pulls open a cabinet door. “Trust me, you’re doing us all a favor by letting this one over here dote on you. I fear he’d go mad if there wasn’t always some task he could busy himself with, and he seems to favor any task that falls under the realm of taking care of you.” He turns to face you, mug in hand. “Now, what do you want to drink?”

You’d laugh at the juxtaposition of his words and his actions, but the deep pain of another cramp sets in and you weakly wave a hand in defeat. “Just some hot water, please.” He hums in confirmation and moves to grab the kettle. You turn your focus back to Moon. “I’ll let you… appease your instincts. It’s kinda my fault that you’ve got ‘em in the first place.”

His expression brightens, round eyes curling into his signature crescents. “Good! Now, shall I list your options again?”

You shake your head and hum a negative, mulling it over for a moment as you take hold of the steaming mug of water that Sun quietly slides in front of you. “Uhh… actually, can I just have it plain today?”

Moon smiles softly, head twisted back over his shoulder to look at you while he pulls a carton of dry oats from the pantry. “Of course, star. Would you like some sugar on it or do you want it truly plain?”

You shove aside the inner voice whispering to you about ‘empty calories’. “…I guess a little brown sugar wouldn’t hurt.”

Moon brightens a little at your answer. “Good choice! I hear that brown sugar gives it a maple syrup-y taste thanks to the molasses. Oh, that makes me think of pancakes! And waffles! And french toast! I should make one of those tomorrow. How does that sound?”

You smile at his growing excitement over tomorrow’s breakfast, in spite of the fact that he won’t even get to partake. Another cramp sets in as you respond and you try to keep the strain out of your voice. “They all sound good, but I don’t know if I can choose right now…”

He gently places a small pot of water on the stove, turning the burner’s dial with practiced precision. “That’s alright, there’s no rush! It’s just some—heh—food for thought!”

Sun groans at the joke, and Moon defends it. “Hey, no—that was a good one!”

Zero noses at Sun’s hand, stealing his attention before he can begin to debate with Moon. As you passively watch him pull the dog’s breakfast from the fridge, a random thought occurs. “Do we still have any Ruffles left?”

Moon opens a different cabinet and shuffles a few bags around in his search. “Weeee… do!”

You’re hesitant to request the odd combination, but your craving wins the inner battle. “Can I… have some of those too?”

“You certainly can!”

Sun reaches past Moon to grab Zero’s bowl from the dish rack, speaking beneath his mechanical breath. “Sugar and salt, what a breakfast.”

“They’re fine choices!” Moon chipperly responds, the word ‘fine’ punctuated by a small smack to the back of Sun’s monitor.

Sun’s rays retract as he ducks down and steps back, distancing himself from Moon’s reach. “I never said they weren’t.” He sets Zero’s bowl on the counter with emphasis. “But you might want to throw some sort of multivitamin in with that salty-sweet mix.”

“I always see to it that they meet their daily needs, Sun.” Moon’s voice rarely wavers from its amicable tone, but there’s an undercurrent of finality to it now that quiets any further commentary from his other half.

As he stirs the simmering oats on the stove, his monitor turns to face you. “Oh, speaking of! I was thinking about making you something with spinach and tofu for lunch. You could use the iron, and the magnesium might help to ease your cramps. Plus the vitamin C should help you absorb the iron, and- oh! I could add some wild rice, or potatoes. The additional B vitamins should help the magnesium, and they support progesterone prod—” The kitchen timer dings, stealing his attention and interrupting his ensuing nutritional ramble.

Twisting his head back around, he turns the burner’s dial off. “Anyways—point is—how does that sound to you? I could cube the tofu and toss it into a spinach salad, I could slice and fry it and arrange it together on a sandwich, or I could even sauté the spinach and make a tofu scramble!”

His excited discussion of all of your lunch options is a bit overwhelming to you, considering you haven’t even conquered breakfast yet. Still, you bear in mind that he’s only trying to help, over-enthusiastic as he may be sometimes. “Uhm… the sandwich sounds nice.”

“Alright! Then it shall be yours.” He moves to pass behind you, enroute to retrieve a bowl from the other side of the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your blanket-clad shoulders in a brief embrace. “Anything the Queen of the castle desires is hers upon command.”

You both giggle a bit at his playful expression, and Sun rolls his eyes, accompanied by a dramatic gagging sound. Zero’s happy tail thwacks repeatedly against one leg of the kitchen table. All is well.

Except it isn’t.

As Moon returns to the stove and Sun portions out Zero’s meal, you struggle to fight back the feeling that what he’d just said didn’t sit right.

It had nothing to do with his devotion to service and everything to do with the concept of you being “Queen.” All of this morning’s focus on your menstrual cycle, coupled with this ‘princess’ treatment and compounded by his casual use of feminine terms for you, suddenly has you feeling more like a woman than you suppose you’d like to.

Trying to push the nagging uncomfortable feeling aside, you pull your phone from your sweatpants pocket. You attempt to distract yourself with a mindless scroll through your notifications as the pleasant smell of your breakfast fills the room.

After presenting Zero with her own breakfast, Sun takes a seat across from you at the small table. You can feel his analytical gaze on you, pointedly avoiding eye contact when you glance up from your phone to sip your water.

By the time Moon presents you with your breakfast, the feeling has done nothing but rapidly fester. You try to distract yourself with the meal, but not even the absurd sight of your requested potato chips—on a plate, methodically arranged by size and laid atop one another in a spiral—is enough to rid you of it. You do your best to sound unbothered when you thank him, and he falters as he moves to step away from the table. “You’re very welc-ome… Is, uh… everything okay, star?”

Sun doesn’t beat around the bush. “Something’s wrong. Is the pain getting worse?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine. Just… thinking about something.”

Moon’s hand comes to rest on the back of the nearest empty chair. “Well… talking tends to help people sort their thoughts out, no? We’re all ears if you’d like to get it off your chest.”

You hesitate and Sun straightens in his seat. “If my presence is preventing you from opening up, I can leave the room.”

Your gaze flicks to him, brows knitted. “What? No, no—I… why would you think that?”

He shrugs. If the notion bothers him, he doesn’t let it show. “I’m sure Moon is… the easier of the two of us to talk to. You seemed to be getting more uncomfortable the longer I sat here. Makes sense to me that maybe you’d rather me not hear about whatever’s going on.”

You start to feel a bit guilty that that’s the conclusion he jumped to. “No, Sun, that’s not… I mean, okay—yeah, I could feel you watching me, but just about anyone gets uncomfortable when they know they’re being watched. Your penchant for staring isn’t… you’re not keeping me from opening up.” You look him directly in the eye. “There isn’t anything I’d say to one of you that I wouldn’t want the other to hear. I don’t want either of you thinking that.”

Sun’s fingertips drum along the table and his faceplate clicks to the side. “Okay then, what is stopping you?”

You pull in a deep breath, internally debating whether it’s even worth explaining.

“You… don’t have to tell us, if you really don’t want to.”

You give Moon a tired smile, opening your mouth only for a defeated sigh to fall out. “It’s… nothing, really. Stupid, even.”

Moon frowns. “Did one of us do or say something wrong?”

“No… I mean—not really. Not intentionally! It’s just…” You groan, resting your forehead in your palms. “I feel uncomfortably… feminine. Today. For some reason.”

He nods slowly. “Oh…kay…”

You attempt to elaborate. “I know I don’t talk about it much. You guys know I use She/They pronouns and there’s no more explanation really required. But… I don’t know. Something lately has just had me wishing I was more masculine. Or—at least more androgynous, I guess. And with all this focus on my period, and—”

Sun, the ever patient listener he is, cuts you off. “Menstruation is not inherently feminine. Any human can have periods if they have a uterus.”

You nod quickly. “Yes—I—I agree, but you’ve gotta take into account that that’s a relatively new take on the concept. It’s a good one, of course, but… a lot of people still associate having periods with being a woman. It’s been so tied to femininity for so long, always seen as a ‘woman’s issue’ that… it can be a difficult thing to un-internalize. It’s a common cause of dysphoria in transmasc and nonbinary people.”

He listens intently, rays slowly circling his head as he considers your point. “Right… right. I see. That makes sense.”

You take a pause to sip your cooling drink and recall where you left off. “It… honestly doesn’t usually bother me this bad. I couldn’t tell you what’s different about this month, it’s just not sitting well with me. But I do appreciate knowing that you two don’t see it as making me feminine. That does help. It’s just…” You shake your head. “Ugh, this is so silly…”

Moon slowly pulls back on the chair he’s been holding onto, stepping around and gently taking a seat. “It’s not silly if it’s bothering you.”

Sun nods, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “He’s right.”

You meet both of their gazes in turn with a small smile before casting your eyes back down to the table. “It’s not a big deal, though. It just… on top of already feeling very feminine, it sat with me wrong when you called me ‘Queen’ earlier. That’s… that’s literally all!” You punctuate your confession with laughter, trying your best to make light of the issue.

Moon’s eyes brighten. “Oh! Oh… oh goodness you’re right! I didn’t even—I didn’t even think…”

You raise a hand out toward him, quick to stop his unnecessary apologies. “It’s not your fault! I promise. You had no clue I was feeling… this way today, and I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I’m not upset with you, I’m… honestly way more upset with myself that I’m so bothered about it in the first place.”

Sun throws his opinion into the ring. “I don’t think either of you are at fault. Moon didn’t know you were feeling this way, and you can’t really control when you feel this way.”

Moon nods and you follow suit. “Yeah, I was hesitant to say anything because I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I already feel like I’m… hah—‘overly-sensitive’ right now anyways.”

Sun’s expression quickly shifts to disapproval. “Oh, that stereotype can get fucked. You feel how you feel and that’s that. It’s just as real right now as it would be at any other point in your cycle.”

Your eyes widen at Sun’s insistent tone and Moon chuckles a bit at the sight. “I agree, star. And… I don’t think that you’re making a ‘big deal’ about it at all. Honestly, I think the best way to not make it a big deal is to not be afraid to tell us if we use a term for you that makes you uncomfortable. I’d much rather you tell me than just try to ignore the feeling.” He reaches out to place a hand over yours. “We know that your identity isn’t set in stone. If there’s ever something you want to be called, or something you don’t want to be called, the best thing you can do is just let us know, okay?”

Unable to fight the affectionate smile that pulls at your cheeks, you flip your hand over to grab his properly, and squeeze. “Okay. Yeah, that… I can do that. Thank you for understanding.”

His faceplate contentedly clicks a few degrees to the right, his smile soft. “Thank you for telling us.”

Feeling flustered and just a bit overwhelmed by how surprisingly smooth that went, you give his hand one more squeeze before pulling back to wrap it around your mug instead. You clear your throat as you do so, looking for something less intense to say. “I uh, I guess for now I’d just like to stick to gender-neutral stuff, okay?”

Moon nods eagerly. “Of course! Easy-peasy. I can even remedy what I said earlier if you’d like!” He’s muttering to himself before you can even tell him that that’s not really necessary. “Oh—uhm… hmmm…. what’s a good neutral alternative to ‘Queen’…”

Sun instantly starts listing suggestions. “Monarch. Ruler. Sovereign.” His rays spin a quick round, a tell that he’s taking his internal database search online for more information. “‘Caln’ is apparently a monarch word based on the Q slash K sound of Queen and King, if that sounds better to your ear.”

He suddenly barks a laugh and your brows raise in interest. “What?”

He shakes his head dismissively, still chuckling. “Nothing, just… Quora results. The questions some people pose are truly something.”

Moon’s interest is piqued. “What’d you find that was funny enough to make you laugh?”

Sun’s voice shifts to his ‘default human’ impression. “If Queen Elizabeth announced she was gender fluid, dot-dot-dot…”

You stifle a laugh. “That’s certainly one way to pose the question.”

“What's the rest say?” Moon asks.

Sun waves his hand in dismissal. “I don’t know. The preview was humorous, but I wasn’t compelled to follow the link to the full thing. Quora gives me a headache. I’ve moved on.”

Moon playfully pouts as Sun expands his list of suggestions. “Excellency. Majesty. Highness. Grace. Eminence. …Quing?… Oh, apparently ‘Caln’ is queer. Wait, do they mean queer created or queer exclusive…”

You interject before he spends the next hour falling down a rabbit hole of royal terms. “You could go the meme-y route and call me Liege.”

Moon’s attention shifts back toward you. “Is that one gender neutral?”

“I… think so?” You shrug. “Sounds neutral enough to me. Though I honestly wouldn’t mind a bit of masculinity to counterbalance the way I’m… feeling right now.”

He nods sagely as Sun’s list of suggestions continues to grow, getting more and more obscure as he delves further and further into his search.

You can’t help but laugh a bit as you dig a spoon into your oats, beginning to breathe easier with the reminder that you’re in very considerate company.

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I’ll be back in a few days with part 4! You can also find my notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. Links to the playlist and moodboard for [N]MbD can be found on this blog’s pinned post, as well as in the series notes on Ao3. Image Sources: x - x - x

[slothyollama101]

The boys have arrived :3

Sanriotale Sans and Papyrus are dressed as Pompompurin and Cinnamoroll (respectively)

Sans and Papyrus weren't really that hard to figure out, both Papyrus and Cinnamoroll can fly and Sans and Pompompurin are just silly little guys

And both Sanrio characters are dogs, and you know who tends to deal with dogs? Sans and Papyrus

So yeah that's my reasoning lol

[r-aindr0p]

Are there any fae-like creatures in french myths?

I know about the story of a giant black wolf that terrorized France back in the day, but that’s all I can remember.

Legends and stories including wolves are in fact really widespread in european culture since middle age ! But yeah the most well known in France is the Beast of Gévaudan which was described as massive ! (and the one from Le petit chaperon rouge/Little red riding hood)

Concerning other creatures and fairies/faes in french legends and stories, we do have

Mélusine : fairies mentioned a bit everywhere in France, they are mostly described as women with a scaly tail lower body and are sometimes associated with mermaids or vouivres. (far from how they look like in genshin impact)

Vouivre : not to be mistaken with wyverns, vouivres are creatures described as snakes with bat wings, sometimes they are depicted having rear legs and wings (and they look very goofy like that imo). These creatures can be aquatic and in some descriptions, possess a big jewel on their forehead.

Tarasque : a creature from provencal legends, which lived in a swamp near Tarascon and terrorized and ate people. It's most popular description was of a big creature with a spiked turtle shell, six bear legs, horse ears, bull chest, lion head, a human face and a twisted tail. Legend says Ste. Marthe tamed the beast. (I swear they were just being attacked by bowser this is the same creature)

These are the one I depicted roughly in the pic above but there are many more creatures depending on the different regions of France ! (There's a lot of fairies and fantasy like creature in stories from bretagne/brittany) Some others that I find either fun or cool are :

Meneurs de loup : which translates to wolf leaders are people told to be able to talk to wolves and even transform into one, either because they are werewolves or they made a pact with the devil. (it's kinda giving spice and wolf vibes and I love that story sm)

Jambe crue/Came-cruse : Roaming in the Pyrénées at night, this thing is a single leg with an eye on the knee that eats people and runs very fast. (Idk why this one is so funny to me but oddly terrifying as well)

[jodoesnew]

Day 31 Trick or Treat

Happy Halloween EVERYBODY!!!

[abbeyofcyn]

Hello! I hope you're having a good day!

So many people in my life seem to be going through something right now, and I just wanted to give you an opportunity to share anything you might be going through. Good or bad, as specific or as vague as you're comfortable with. Or feel free to ignore if you'd rather not. No pressure at all!

I hope things are going well for you! But if not, I'll be sending prayers your way if you're comfortable with that!

*me glancing at the vent art comic I've been working on*

[moongothic]

You know we all meme about how Luffy doesn't give a shit about his parents/Dragon, how he seemingly has no interest in learning about the man or meeting him at all, and like yeah that is a Luffyism

And for a long time I figured Baby Luffy would be the same too; that Luffy in his naïvete just accepted he must've spawned from the ocean itself into Garp's care or something, not realizing he should in fact have parents, thus Luffy's seeming disinterest in them

But you know what

Luffy did spend most of his early childhood alone

Sure, he had Garp, but it seems like Garp wasn't always there to look after him every day, he had his duties as a Marine too. Had Garp been there 24/7 all year then Garp would never have allowed Luffy to interact with Shanks (a filthy pirate) to begin with. So yes, Luffy had his grandpa, but not all the time. And sure, Luffy also had Shanks, but Shanks didn't spend all his time in Fuusha Village either, he came and went whenever he pleased too until his final departure when Luffy was just six years old. And yes, there was everyone else in the village too, people who cared about Luffy and were helping look after him. But Luffy's early childhood was one without a stable family.

It wasn't until Garp yeeted the child into Dadan's care that Luffy actually gained a proper family, where after months and months of trying Luffy managed to win Ace's trust and gained Sabo as a brother too. But as we know, by that point Luffy already hated being alone

All of this to say; Luffy growing up essentially orphaned would explain why he's so afraid to be alone, the way he clings onto people

In some ways Luffy's POV is meant to be the reader's POV, to some degree Luffy's feelings and thoughts are meant to be how we the readers feel and think about whaveter is happening in the story. Not a 100% by any means, but somewhat at the very least.

Perhaps Luffy's lack of interest in Dragon isn't just "Luffy not giving a damn about blood family because chosen families are better" nor "Luffy is too stupid to understand where babies come from". Perhaps Luffy, who may have assumed he didn't have parents at all (as in "might've assumed they were dead or had intentionally abandoned him"), doesn't know what to think about the fact that he does have a father out there, one whom he has never as much as met. Because yeah, Luffy doesn't know why Dragon left him with Garp, why he never got to be with his dad. Should he be angry at Dragon, hate him for being left alone? Or did Dragon have a good reason for it, does Dragon wish things could've been different?

Perhaps Luffy's seeming disinterest in Dragon isn't because he doesn't care about blood family, but because much like us the readers, Luffy doesn't quite know what to make of Dragon, and figuring those feelings out hasn't been relevant to the plot yet.

[lunesprite]

@dca-prompts @simpalert

Original prompt:

Trying this a different way this time! ~1500 words today. Takes a little bit to get there, but I hope you enjoy it!

______________

Nothing ever happens on Wednesdays. Well. Not from the hours of midnight to 6am at least. 

It’s the perfect night to come back. 

Around and above you, the lights of the pizzaplex flick off, casting your path in wells of deep shadow between islands of neon glow. 

It was unsettling walking to your office the first few times. Management wanted you clocking in no more than five minutes before your shift officially began, and unless you sprinted from the time clock, there was no way in hell even that would get you from point A to your office down in the depths of the place before it got spooky in the pizzaplex. You used your phone flashlight for a bit - speed walking between neon streams and the glowing eyes of the ever-watchful wet floor bots - but, well. 

Then Moon stole your phone. 

It was your fault, to be fair.  

You’d been late, you’d been hurrying, you heard a noise behind you and instantly thought ‘horror movie’ and whipped around and uh. Kind of flashbanged him in the face from two inches away. In your defense, no one had ever bothered to tell you what the other night security was, or tell you that it had a mischievous streak a mile wide. 

So you figured you deserved it when he stole your phone and spent a good fifteen minutes suspended above you, sulking like a kicked cat before you gave up and stumbled your way to your office in the dark. And there, in between staring at the screen static of a completely empty plex, you decided to write him an apology. 

One, you wanted your phone back. You’d just paid it off. 

Two, call you a sucker, but he’d been kind of… cute? You’d never seen an animatronic sulk before and he’d sold it so well you’d really wanted to beckon him down and pet him. 

You left that bit out of the apology. Which was a good thing, because when you’d clocked off in the morning and slipped by the daycare looking for the guy with your actually neatly written letter of apology, sealed with a sticker and everything, Sun looked at you like you were about to grow a second head.

And then, insisting that he was just checking it over for you, read the whole damn thing. Out loud. With acting. 

You hadn’t been allowed to leave the tiny table he’d plonked you down at. 

You’d been so mortified, your brain didn’t even register it when he whipped out your phone from somewhere and made you re-enact the incident with him - except Sun, wearing a hat also produced from places unknown, followed up the flashbang with dramatic wailing on the floor. Smote down, cruelly wounded, etc. 

Which was all well and good, you’d said. But Moon’s was a lot cuter. 

Yeah. 

You know in those choice games, where like. Sometimes it brings up a notice? ‘There will be consequences for this action’? 

There were consequences for that action. You still don’t dare go to the daycare during operating hours. 

Sun, the menace, had gotten this gleam in his eyes and started howling and you fled like literal hounds were on your heels. 

You hadn’t expected to clock in late the next day, the lights off before you even made it to the time clock, and then turn around to Moon right there. 

And. Look, ok. 

He was too big to be in that pill box of a room. So he was kind of scrunched up a bit. Hunched in on himself, his hat more crooked than usual, long legs and arms drawn in like. Like a cat, sitting behind you, with those big red eyes watching you. 

He was cute. And you didn’t know about his and Sun’s whole situation - that liar - so you just. Did what you’d wanted to do the night before. 

You reached out and pet him and that big cat just melted. 

He made the deepest, happiest purr, eyes dimmed in contentment and next thing you knew, you were on the floor with an animatronic oozed across you, his face in your hands and his claws kneading the shitty carpet. Only, worse than a cat, there was no way to move the big cute lug to go anywhere. 

Once Moon cuddled, you were stuck. 

But you worked things out. 

As much as the two of you enjoyed sitting in your office, his chin resting on your thighs as you watched the security feeds and idly pet him or wiped him down, he did have to do patrol, so you’d made a deal. 

Wednesday, when nothing ever happened, Moon could come flop on you. 

It wouldn’t take him long to show up tonight. After all, you’d been gone last week - vacation - and it’d taken a lot of pacifying to get your sulky cat to accept he’d have to go without cuddles for one week. 

You unlock your office, flicking on the light switch beside the door and leave it open as you dump your overstuffed bag beside your chair and set your drink on your desk. If you didn’t keep the door open, Moon would claw at it. The exact same way a cat would paw at a closed door, except his are titanium and explaining it to management is a lot more… awkward. They always seem to expect so much more from your answers when they ask. 

You only manage to get the screens turned on and dig out the wipes from your bag - the scrubby ones, a little treat - before the lights overhead go out, leaving you in only the faint light of the security feeds. And when you turn, you try very hard not to laugh. 

All you can see are Moon’s eyes, staring accusingly in at you through the window beside the door. 

“I’ve wronged you,” you say, as solemnly as possible. 

His eyes narrow. 

“Truly,” you turn, pulling out the starry blanket and new pillow wedged into your bag. “I have been a most cruel friend, to leave you uncuddled for a week.” 

His claws creep around the edge of the doorway. 

Almost everything else, you pull out from assorted hiding places in your office. Pillows. Not one, but two giant sleeping bags, spread out across the floor as you shove your chair to the edge of the admittedly small space. By the time you’ve finished, fluffing up the sturdy pillow you sacrificed from your old couch, Moon sits in the doorway. 

Now for the final bribe. 

Under his watchful optics, you set the wipes on the floor near the couch pillow. And then your drink. And then, with a wink, you reach into the bottom of your bag. 

And pull out a massive power cord which you hold out in both hands, head bowed. 

His eyes gleam, a quiet cackle hissing from his voice box. 

“As an apology, please accept this offering of a night of cuddles and charging - just as long as you don’t blow up the circuits again.” 

“No promises,” he hisses, already slinking inside and burrowing under the top sleeping bag as you huff out a laugh, pushing aside a bit of shelving to reach the heavy duty plug hidden behind it. You plug in the stupidly heavy cable and drag it over to the jingling blanket lump, grinning as he pops out his head. Just like a cat, he takes up 90% of any surface he deems his bed, and you drop the cable on him with a clunk as you clamber over him to the other side to your stash of wipes and drink. 

The screens flicker as Moon plugs in the cable, and for a second you pause, wipe in hand, before he slinks an arm around your waist and plops his chin in your lap with a soft purr. 

You laugh softly, checking over the security feeds for a second before you tilt up his face, smiling at his dimmed eyes and take the wipe to his forehead. 

“I thought you were gonna knock us offline there, Moony.” 

“Mmmm.” He hums, curling his lanky form around you until you’re hemmed in, his arms deceptively loose around you. “Still thinking about it.” 

“I guess I’ll just have to convince you otherwise, hm? Can’t clean you up all nice if I can’t see a damn thing.” 

You pat his head, settling back into your pillows as Moon mumbles something and, slowly, as the trash can fills with dirtied wipes - your eyes flicking to the screens each time you grab a new one - his purr evens out. 

It’ll be a long night. Somehow, you suspect he’s not going to let you up until the end of your shift this time.

With a fond sigh, you hook an arm around him in turn, fiddling lightly with his hat as he snoozes and turn your eyes back to the wall of security monitors. His fingers rest loose and light against your sides. Every now and then, his claws twitch. His inner machinery ticks and whirrs lazily. 

He really is a sweet thing, underneath all that mischief. 

You almost want to kiss him. But, ah. This is enough, isn’t it?

[humanblt]

day 37: drawing pierreshu counts as celebrating pierre’s bday, right?? …right???

[mumblelard]

pont danic or the bridge under the bridge over there

finn and fall came over after work on friday and we wrote the story of the week together over red bag pizzas and strawberry lemonade. boba kept watch from above while we beasted the last two polaroids in the roll, and we talked about scranimals and puppy sitting, fireflies, rage rooms, and queue mechanics. they'd both had long, hard days that started early, but still we talked for hours about fireflies, trespassing syllabi, pool puke and ronalds, family fallen and family not fallen yet. it was a really fun night