#damn i did not think i included that many characters

[remmickrealgf]

Okay so I just wanna make a post clearing up my other post about my opinion because some people might be confused or even offended and that was never my intentions.

For starters when I originally came on here to make Remmick fanfics it was always gonna be a vague reader insert. I wasn’t going to make the reader any race because personally I wanted anyone and everyone to read my fanfics on here. In my opinion I actually think reader inserts should mainly be non-descriptive and vague as possible so people can feel included. As a writer I don’t know what any of my readers will look like. People may be black, white, or any race for that matter and I wouldn’t know so I usually always never describe the reader insert.

However, after all the discourse and drama on here and seeing that many black people were feeling left out and not included for a movie that’s made for them more than anyone I thought to myself, “damn, maybe I can be that one person pumping out fanfics for us.” And so that’s what I did. If you look on my blog you’ll find a fanfic that’s not descriptive at all for any race because like I said that’s normally what I do. But I decided to lock in and put out content for my people.

Also, I am not racist. I don’t hate white women. That’s what I was just accused of from an anonymous question which really annoyed me because that’s not why I made the post. That person completely skimmed over what I wrote and it truly shows. Like to be honest I really don’t care about white people making white reader inserts especially if they tag it. Now if they don’t tag, well YES!! I’m going to be annoyed, especially if their fanfic had interesting tags and sounded good to read I’m going to be salty. Why? Well, simple cause I just can’t enjoy that. I’m literally black, why would I or other black people wanna read something like that or any other poc for that matter.

So, in conclusion, if you are white and wanna make white reader inserts go for it but please guys tag it. Just tag it and no one will literally care. But in my opinion I think making the reader inserts vague is a great thing to do. I want anyone to read my stuff cause that’s just how I am. But for now I’m going to continue making black reader inserts because why not and when I feel like making vague ones again I’ll do that too. Anyways no hate to anyone especially people who are just having fun and aren’t being disrespectful, please don’t think I’m trying to start drama with yall. Hell, I’m literally here to have fun, simp for characters and write.

[juiceycube]

so i finished neo

[feroluce]

Belobog was my fave main quest but a lot of it is so. Contradictory. It's like they had multiple groups doing different shit and none of them checked in with each other for consistency. And you see this so much in Gepard's profile.

So in the main quest, they made him unfailingly, unquestionably loyal to Cocolia. Gepard's character arc is him learning to question authority etc etc. And this isn't even a bad thing; that's a story worth telling! It makes good conflict between him and Serval! And I love that we got Gepard as a boss battle and I get to see him all the time in SU!

But then you look at his character stories and it's like. The complete opposite.

According to his profile, Gepard has already HAD this awakening, long before the Astral Express, and he'd already decided Cocolia sucks. Even outside of his stories, there's a pretty damning readable between him and Pela.

He even disobeyed direct orders right in front of her- he has been disobeying orders for a while now!

So I've decided I'm marrying the two different sides of this into a 1.5k fic-ish thingy, because I think there's some fun potential there with Gepard not trusting Cocolia, but still having to pretend to be a good obedient little soldier.

Anyway. I love to think of it as like. Gepard knows Cocolia has sunk into her apathy. He can see it in her eyes every time he looks at her. She doesn't care. Not about him, not about Pela, not about all his soldiers on the frontlines giving their lives to protect the citizens. And that's... It makes him bristle a bit, but ok. Gepard can deal with this. Even if Cocolia no longer cares, as long as she does her job then it's fine. Having compassion behind an action doesn't matter as much as the action itself. If Cocolia's heart is no longer swayed, then he'll just have to care twice as hard to pick up the slack. He considers it part of his duty as a captain of the guard anyway. It's fine. Gepard can deal with it.

And then, Cocolia starts coming down to the restricted zone. Issuing direct orders.

And Gepard realizes he is in way over his head.

Because Cocolia orders him to stay back and issue commands from the ramparts, away from all his comrades, away from where he can protect them.

Gepard had thought nothing could be as bad as watching a fellow guard die right next to him. But the first time he watches someone struck by a killing blow, so far away, it hurts. Every defensive scar across his arms itches, his fingers curl in want of a weapon, the cold cannot numb his hands enough as they desperately ache for his shield. It hurts.

Gepard tries to find any reason to stay. Because surely... He knows Cocolia has lost her love for her people, but surely... She wouldn't...

One day, Cocolia orders for their gunners to advance 20 yards. There are no survivors. She almost looks like she smiles.

Gepard doesn't sleep that night.

Pela brings him the report at the end of the first month; and then the month after that, and the month after that. A significant uptick in losses, and all of it started on that first day Cocolia started overriding his authority and issuing her own orders. The ends of Gepard's pens have all been nearly chewed off. Pela outright calls Cocolia an idiot, and Gepard corrects her. Cocolia isn't an idiot. Gepard had known her through Serval, knew her through all her college years and then some, and he knows how intelligent she is. It's not that she's stupid, and it's not that she's inexperienced, it's nothing of the sort.

Cocolia knows exactly what she's doing.

She must, there's no way she could make such a horrible mess of things so badly by accident. And Pela, quick as a whip, sharp as a tack, always too smart for her own good, catches onto the meaning behind Gepard's correction without any further prompting. The tent goes deathly quiet, nothing but the wind howling outside.

"...She's trying to kill us," Pela whispers, her voice swiftly suffocated by the silence.

Gepard swallows. He can't bring himself to correct her this time. There is nothing he could say that he would actually mean.

His gaze drops, back down to his desk and the reports on it. The names aren't listed, just the numbers, but Gepard knows them, knew them, and there must be something wrong, something he's missing, because why, why would she-? What could this possibly accomplish-?

“Gepard! Focus!” Something snaps right under his nose, and Gepard startles, eyes instantly honing in on Pela's irritated face as she leans over his desk. She holds his gaze for a moment before she huffs and begins to pace, wedges a knuckle between her teeth and bites like Gepard hasn't seen her do since cadet school.

Pela angrily strides from one end of his tent to the other, words hissed between her grit teeth. “What are we going to do?” In the dim lighting, Gepard can just barely see the damp spot of blood weeping under her gloves. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Wh- Yes, a plan! Unless you want more people to die!” Pela rounds on him then, all the wrath of a blizzard, winds roaring and snow sharp enough to cut.

“We don't even know-”

“What does it matter?! She killed-!!” Pela cuts off with a garbled noise when Gepard leaps up from his desk, hastily shoves his hand over her mouth. The prosthetic, not the flesh one, because he knows better than to assume Pela won't seize the opportunity to leave teeth marks in his skin.

“You're right. I'm sorry, I'm sorry; you're right. But you need to keep quiet.” Pela quirks an eyebrow at him and Gepard can read the question in her face. “Because we both saw what she did to Serval,” he hisses.

It's amazing the snow plains haven't thawed out yet, the amount of heat Pela can put behind a glare. The mere mention of Serval, and the smoking ruins Cocolia had made of her life and career, have her bristling up like a riled cat. The sudden hot breath she takes fans fog across his metal skin, and Gepard wisely keeps it in place until Pela finally sighs and reaches up, taps her fingertips against the back of his hand.

The second she's free, Pela bats him away and then her knuckle is right back between her teeth again, Gepard leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed to watch her resume her pacing. “If we spread the word, she'll have us discharged and make sure we can't even touch the frontlines,” Pela's voice seethes like an open sore. Gepard nods but keeps his silence. He knows better than to get in her way.

“And if you and I are both out of the picture, Belobog is fucked.” A little harsher than how he would have put it, but there's no denying that they're both important to the city's survival. Pela has the restricted zone running as efficiently as ever, and Gepard had become the youngest captain on record for a reason. “We need to keep this tight under wraps, at least for now… It can't leak to anyone higher up the chain.” Another nod. “Serval might know other discontents…” Another n-

Gepard's head snaps up. “No.”

“No what?”

“No. We're not involving Serval in this.”

Somehow, even the same tone that leaves entire squadrons shaking in their boots has never worked on her. “You're not deciding that for her, Gepard.”

Pela hadn't seen the worst of it, though, back when his sister had just been banned from the Architects. Serval's pride hadn't allowed it. Pela wasn't the one to find her passed out bottle still in hand, hadn't been the one to wash the sick out of her hair or carry her to bed. 

Serval still has trouble thinking clearly when it comes to Cocolia, still can't quite bring herself to be objective. And Gepard maybe doesn't want her to be purely objective- but he would worry a lot less if she thought twice before she acted more often.

“At least let me be the one to bring it up to her.”

“Whatever, fine,” Pela gestures affirmatively at him as she paces past, and Gepard sighs. Good, at least that's one thing he can help.

From there, it's a lot of hemming and hawing and frustration. Cocolia has them under her boot, and Gepard and Pela both know it. Even with the way she's been cracking down on freedoms lately, Cocolia is still, overall, liked by the people. It's unlikely anyone would believe them. They don't even have solid proof, because most people don't know Cocolia as well as they do and won't see the clues in the same light. 

The Fragmentum has been ramping up in recent years, too. Everyone is struggling just to survive as is, they can't afford a fight on two fronts. Gepard is a damn good captain, one of the best for that matter. But they're at a massive disadvantage, his experience is narrowed to fighting a defensive battle against monsters, that's all he's ever done. That's all anyone there has ever done. He has no way of finding first-hand knowledge for taking the offensive against a human opponent, and if he goes at this blind, there's no way he'll get everyone out unscathed. He's going to lose people. He's going to lose a lot of people.

He'd never thought before that Cocolia would have it in her to have someone killed. And with this new knowledge, he has no guarantee she won't go after Serval or Lynx if she decides to retaliate.

Gepard has to remind himself to breathe when he realizes this.

Pela writes down every name the two of them can come up with. Lists and lists of names and groups and anyone they can think of who might be an ally in all of this. They memorize every bit of it, make their plans of who to talk to and when. Gepard watches the sparks reflect off Pela's glasses as they burn the evidence together.

Pela finally leaves, far too late to make it home, but says she wants to stay in the restricted zone anyway to investigate. Gepard watches her make her way in the direction of Dunn's tent, watches her back until she's out of his sight and squashes down the urge to follow and keep an eye on her. His tent feels empty.

In the morning, Gepard is up before the wake up bells. He drags himself out of bed, leads his soldiers through their morning training. The same people gravitate to each other everyday. Friend groups and training partners. There's an ongoing rivalry between a few squadrons that everyone bets on. Some of them have lockets around their necks, keepsakes, mementos. Some of them wear wedding rings.

Gepard is suddenly, painfully aware of something acidic clawing at the inside of his throat, of a heavy weight low in his chest that blooms, takes up room until it threatens to spread his ribs. His mouth tastes of bile and blood.

He rearranges the schedules. Puts himself down for every open patrol into the Fragmentum, makes sure he'll be on the frontlines every single time Cocolia visits.

He only hopes that it's enough.

[lord-squiggletits]

"Rodimus is a better Prime because it didn't hurt for him to bond with the Matrix while for Optimus it did" headcanon/theory my beloathed.

One day I'm literally gonna snap and make a whole post addressing why what's wrong bc I'm tired of the inaccuracy and tired of ppl not understanding the Point TM of IDW and its version of the Matrix/Primacy and even more tired of people putting down Optimus in favor of Rodimus by essentially arguing that being unworthy means you deserve to be punished/put in pain bc you just weren't good enough to hold the Symbol of Ultimate Authority

[opalthea]

also, hello padisarah nonnie !! it's good to see you again :>

i decided to not answer your ask regarding the wholeeee stuff.. because i don't really care what they want to do anymore. i've done my part of speaking up about their behaviours and calling them out - which made a lot of people open their eyes for once instead of ignoring the warnings they got from me or other people. and i think that's all i want to do.

THIS WILL FORMALLY BE THE LAST POST ABOUT THEM. I will not answer any asks regarding it anymore, so if you want to make your own posts regarding those users, please use your own platforms, thank you.

as much as i encourage speaking up, i also don't want to give a flying duck about them anymore. y'know, like, i spoke up because i couldn't tolerate them and their behaviours anymore - couldn't just keep quiet when my mutuals are knowingly or unknowingly talking to shitty people like that. if they started a new blog, just let them. i don't really care anymore 😭 all i hope is that my mutuals and those that see this are more aware of internet safety and who you surround yourself with. it was already exhausting trying to warn others about them and not being listened to until i made this shit public — i'm not going to start becoming a blog that runs on discourse just so some can finally realise that this person was shitty and that person was the devil.

thanks for also caring abt me and informing me of their new url, i appreciate that a lot! it's on my blocklist now + the mutuals they've tagged on that post too 💀 if, however, i blocked you without a good reason why, or if i blocked you before you knew of this and had already cut ties with them, feel free to send me a message or ask on a different blog! i took precautionary blocks when it comes to having those kind of people as mutuals so .. yeah.

[ubeb0nes]

Sevika x Fem!Bar Owner!Reader - The One Who Pours the Drinks

Pt. 3 (can be read as standalone)

༇ ༇ ༇

Summary: After their (very homosexually-charged) estrangement a few weeks ago, Angel tries to bury the sour Sevika left in her heart. Sevika does the same, dismissing any meaning to be found in how she still makes sure to walk by the Five-Copper Furnace at least twice a week.

But one thing remains true: No one threatens the one who pours the drinks.

a/n: i'm a dirty filthy liar, i finished pt. 3 for bar owner reader before i even started my warmup for writing sevika's character LMFAO. will still do that prompt at some point!!

w/c: like 4.3k ish

༇ ༇ ༇

The world doesn’t stop spinning because of one person.

It’s a sentiment you were forced to be fond of in your life before the one you had now. People had always come and gone, it was the nature of the crime life, and it was certainly the nature of the Zaun one too. To stop and mourn for too long was to die.

And you had a business to run.

You did your best to count your lucky stars every night, reminding yourself as you wiped down the bar that there were other people. Plenty of women with smokey laughs and eyes like the moon. You were a good-looking bastard, you’d find the next one. You had all the time in the world now, away from the strife that used to follow you like a shadow.

Pay no mind to how you always swiped harder at the bar as you had these thoughts, slamming tumblers and plates into their places beneath the bar with extra vigor. Nor to how Zaun was about as different from Bilgewater as steel to iron.

Sevika’s men and their presence started to dwindle with hers, albeit more slowly; many of them almost seemed hesitant, apologetic. You caught one of them on your way into the bar to open it for the evening.

“I’m real sorry, Angel,” he’d said.

“I’m sure she’s got other work for you,” you said, waving him off as if it was- and indeed, it was- nothing personal. You only had problems with one ex-frequent of your bar. You weren’t even all that inclined to include the heavy muscle she brought in with her on the last visit.

“Always other work where the boss is concerned,” he affirmed, “But… this has been one of the better gigs.” You stayed static outside your bar for a moment as he walked away, your key still stuck in the lock.

It’s not like you needed protection in the first place, you were more than capable. Not that Sevika knew that. You grumbled to yourself as you organized the prep area behind the bar; you hadn’t had to give much mind to security the past several months, Sevika handled the matter in its entirety without you so much as having to ask.

It’s a sentiment you were forced to be fond of in your life before the one you had now. People had always come and gone, it was the nature of the crime life, and it was certainly the nature of the Zaun one too. To stop and mourn for too long was to die.

You’d have to add that back into your list of tasks. Along with putting all the stools up at closing time. And what were you supposed to do with all these damn cigarillos you had behind the counter? You didn’t smoke nearly as much as she did.

You smacked a hand that wasn’t yours away from the aforementioned stash, smirking when you heard a small, “Ow, jerk!”

“You’re not old enough to smoke.”

“It’s Zaun, babies would smoke if they could,” the boy, a little tail of yours named Kix, retorted, pouting as he hopped up on the counter. You sighed. “I finished that book you gave me.”

“Yeah? How was it?”

“Pretty good! And, I think, as a reward for finishing it, I should-”

“Yeah, I’m gonna stop you right there,” you said, stepping away to move the lemons you just sliced into a container. Your tail, of course, followed.

“Fine, can I at least finally get a knife?”

“When you can wield one of those batons without smacking yourself in the face, yeah. ‘Til then, hell no.”

“That’s a bad word!”

“Like you care!” You could only breathe out a laugh. The children of Zaun were sharp, often leaving you deeply amused and incredulous.

“Ugh,” he said dramatically, flailing against the bar. You shot one of your patrons an apologetic look at the antics of Stray Wet Cat #1. “But you have so many, Angel!” He exclaimed, “How’d you get those anyway? Did you kill somebody?”

I killed a lot of people, you wanted to say, but something told you that wouldn’t have been appropriate. “I told you before, Kix,” you started, voice gentle like a teacher’s, “Zaun isn’t the only place in the world where you need to defend yourself. The world is way bigger.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” he muttered to himself, pushing away from the bar and trudging back to the lounge area connected to the kitchen, where a few of the other kids spent their time. You frowned as you watched him walk away, then looked down at the paring knife in your right hand.

For the children of Zaun, life depended on which end of the knife you found yourself on, and oftentimes nothing more. How much were you really doing for them, giving them sandwiches to eat and rudimentary lessons on how to hold a blade? They all had to leave the bar at the end of each day, stepping back into the streets waiting to swallow them whole on their treks back home.

“Don’t be so hard on ya’self, Ang’,” the patron you’d shared a look with earlier interjected. You looked up at him in a daze, quickly putting on a thoughtful smile.

“I’m okay,” you replied simply.

“And so are those kids, thanks to you,” he said, “A little bit goes a long way in Zaun. These kids can stretch an inch of kindness, always have been able to.”

You saw eyes like slate in your mind as the gentleman went back to nursing his drink, and your smile faltered.

Weren’t these the kids Sevika claimed to be doing her righteous work for? What could she tell them as she chipped away at their safe haven, showing up bi-weekly just to take away a little more? You growled lowly as you swiped a cigarillo from beneath the counter, abiding the thought to linger in your mind- as if you could condition yourself to hate her faster.

You were busy staring down the end of the cigarillo as you lit it, almost too busy to notice how a wave of quiet had washed over the Five-Copper Furnace. Your eyes flicked to the door just in time, though.

Your busy mind halted all thoughts more trivial than the now, a low voice reminding you of the shotgun beneath your bar, the knives in your sleeves, and the preeminent experience in violence that scarred your skin. Four men wearing all manners of weapons, and gleaming belt buckles of meridian silver, stalked into your bar.

𒀭 𒀭 𒀭

Sevika was, for whatever reason, a woman well-versed in the department of odd and unwanted talents. Being weirdly good with kids was at the forefront.

“Oh! Captain-General Metal Arm Lady!” Well, she knew which kid that was*.*

“Why is my name so long?” She muttered to herself as she stopped anyway, and turned on her heel to face him. The boy, one of Angel’s little henchmen named Kix, skidded to a stop in front of her. “What is it, kid?” She asked gruffly.

“Where’ve you been? Are you and Angel having a lover’s quarrel?”

Isn’t he like twelve?? Sevika picked her jaw up from the ground as quickly as it’d fallen. “Who the hell even taught you what that is?” She asked incredulously.

“That’s a bad word. And I read it in a book. Are you coming to the Five-Copper?”

“No, I’m busy,” Sevika said flatly. Her brow furrowed at the way his face fell. Not like a child who’d been told no, but a boy who had something to fear. “…Why?”

“Well, uh… m-maybe you could just stop by?” He rocked back on his heels, looking over his shoulder at the bar in question. He’d caught Sevika so close to the place, he just needed to get her through the door… “I think Angel might… u-um…”

Sevika sighed. “Before tomorrow, Kix.”

“I think Angel might need you.”

Sevika scoffed, turning with a small flare of her cloak (drama queen), “She’s a big girl, she can handle herself just fine, kid. I gotta go.” A small, surprised grunt rose out of her when she felt a tug on her metal arm. She looked down at the boy, shooting him a glare that lacked even an inch of fire.

“Please, Miss Sevika! A bunch of guys just walked in and I don’t know them, a-and they have really ugly, scary faces, and-”

“Okay! Okay. C’mon, let’s go,” Sevika rattled her arm out of Kix’s grasp, sweeping it back beneath her cloak. The boy let out a small cheer as her broad form turned in the direction of the Five-Copper Furnace, and he fell into step under the cover of her shadow. “And don’t call me ‘Miss Sevika’. Just Sevika is alright,” she made a small, grossed-out sound.

“Okay! Does that mean we’re friends?”

“No,” she replied, giving his head a small nudge as they walked.

“Ack! Bully!”

The smile that began to flicker across her features promptly melted back into her perpetual frown as she watched almost half a dozen patrons leave the Five-Copper in succession. “How many of them were there, kid?” She asked in a low voice.

“Uh, I think four?”

Sevika hummed, stopping beside the entrance. She pulled Kix aside by the collar with her, as even more patrons filed out. “Are your friends in there?” She asked. The boy nodded. “Okay. Go get ‘em through the back. And go home.”

“But-!”

“Uh-uh. She’s already pissed at me enough, can’t imagine how mad she’d be if you brats got hurt once this goes down.”

“So…” Sevika felt a few grey hairs grow in at the same time Kix’s frown faded into a grin, “…it is a lover’s quarrel?”

“Kix!”

“Okay, bye Sevika!” He hopped up and down as if to charge himself up before sprinting off. Sevika watched as he nearly tripped over himself when he quickly halted again. “Uh… you won’t let them hurt Angel, right?”

“She’ll be fine,” Sevika said. She sighed as his feet stayed planted in the ground. Her voice was softer when she spoke again, “You have my word, kid. Angel will be okay.” He gave her a final grin, before darting off. Sevika cracked her neck as she zeroed back on the entrance to Angel’s bar. “Guess collections is early this month,” she muttered wryly, before pushing the door open.

𒀭 𒀭 𒀭

“These people don’t even know, do they?”

You breathed out tendrils of smoke from your nose, lowering your voice in line with the bounty hunter’s. His friends had stayed mute, opting to survey your patrons and the bar itself like three angry lighthouses.

You smiled slightly at those who hadn’t left yet, whose postures were coiled tightly like metal springs.

“I can’t imagine it’d change a thing,” you replied. You picked up the wanted poster (old fashioned, you were aware) he’d thrown on the counter, giving it another flippant once-over. Your likeness had been- rather skillfully- illustrated in the center, with meaningless words like ‘Wanted’ and ‘approach with care’ swimming around it.

God, I’m good-looking, you thought with a smile and a nod.

“And yet you have ‘em call you a different name. Bury your old one with the rest of your money, huh?”

“Oh, that isn’t buried. Not one bit,” Your face spread into a grin, wolfish teeth crushing the filter of the cigarillo. You saw the hunger that flickered in his eyes, a greed so romantically entwined with the people of Bilgewater that men died for it. Like this one would.

“Well, good to know! Between that and the hundred Golden Krakens on your head, you’ll make a fine cashout,” the rancid man said, “Angel.”

Your eyes widened slowly, mockingly. “A hundred Golden Krakens?” You echoed, “…Can I turn myself in?” Your eyes flicked casually to the door as you heard it open once again.

“Very funny. Now…”

Whatever the hunter had to say ceased to matter as you watched her walk in. Wide shoulders curved inwards, entering with the same intent your remaining customers all had. Sevika met your eyes immediately.

On one hand, not only was your safety further secured, but a return in a casket to your old city was all but out of the question now. Sevika wouldn’t let you die, at the very least, you knew that much.

On the other hand… Sevika was in your bar. Your eyes narrowed at her, and you gave her a look that practically screamed ‘piss off’ in spite of your other senses relaxing. She shook her head at you, matching your rising agitation with an annoyed curl of her lip.

Kix, she mouthed. Oh, thanks, kid. What a wingman.

You would’ve found it silly the way she stuck to the walls as she moved through the bar. Trying to get closer to you, you realized. A hand slamming down on the table and another grabbing your collar brought your attention back to more pressing matters.

Sevika felt her heart jump higher in her chest, and she resisted the urge to rush right to you and pluck that man’s head from the rest of him. A firm hand on her shoulder was all that prevented her, and she leveled her gaze with the fool who’d stepped in her line of view.

“We called dibs on this job, you’re too late,” the hunter said. Sevika furrowed her brows in brief confusion, but the pieces came together quickly in a mind as sharp as hers.

Bounty hunters? For you?

He gave her shoulder a shove, and Sevika let herself be moved. Some distance to deploy her left arm’s blade, good. “Go on,” he growled.

A scream from the bar counter swiveled all heads in that direction.

Sevika’s eyes widened as your name started to rise in her throat, until she saw the main perpetrator sink like a stone in water… his hand left behind in your grasp. You wiped the knife on your apron, throwing your still-burning cigarillo at him as he writhed on the floor.

Sevika threw her cloak to the ground before her sensibilities turned to steel.

𒀭 𒀭 𒀭

You would’ve made a fine alchemist, if you hadn’t chosen the more profitable industry of alcoholism instead.

You also would’ve been far less likely to have ever encountered Sevika and the all-consuming rage she inspired in you if you’d started an Apothecary. What with her- very much expected- aversion to seeking out any medical assistance of any sort.

“Ow.”

“Stay still.”

“Ow.” Sevika hissed when you pressed the tonic-doused cloth to her wound with the exact same vigor as before, thrashing away from you. You sat up straight, leveling her with a look that seethed with your indignance.

“You’re acting like a wuss.”

“And you’re acting like a child who didn’t get her way,” she snapped. Your eye twitched, and so you closed them to take a moment to gather yourself.

You missed the way Sevika’s gaze fell slowly to your lap, eyes creasing as she frowned at your battered hands. You hadn’t had time to pull your gun from beneath the bar before shit went down, and so you’d resorted to hacking with hand and blade. Sevika had been at your back like a magnet, sticking to you and letting the hunters come to her. You’d held your own valiantly.

She only serviced you a lukewarm glare as you moved back to her, this time gently easing the cloth onto her wounded cheek. You held her in place by the other side of her face. “You can take a punch but not a wound disinfectant,” you quipped.

“I took more than just a punch recently, princess.” Sevika side-eyed you when your touch faltered, letting out a shallow huff from her nose.

“Unbelievable…” you muttered.

“Who the hell were those guys? What could they possibly want with you?” Sevika asked. You jutted your lip at her in annoyance when her movements shifted the cloth.

She looked down to ponder the fight from a few hours ago (the lower floor was still an absolute wreck, but that was a problem for you to deal with tomorrow). Silver teeth; and weaponry not at all reminiscient of anything you’d find in Zaun, or Piltover. They had moved with an erratic tick to their attacks, not completely unlike the Shimmer-dependent henchmen Silco kept; although their addiction ran strictly red.

“They weren’t Zaunites,” she mused aloud.

“…No. They weren’t. They were from Bilgewater.”

You freed your other hand to reach for your wanted poster you’d nabbed before heading upstairs, and handed it to Sevika. There was a hanging silence between you as she read the same words over and over again.

“They got your likeness wrong,” she said. You pursed your lips, waiting. “Your head is bigger than that.”

“Shut up.”

Sevika chuckled; or at least gave a limp attempt at it. Her hand holding the poster fell with a soft crunch as she sighed. You let your own hands rest in your lap as she closed her eyes, and leaned her head over the back of your couch.

She had such a pretty neck. The lines of that strange scar were like wisps of blue smoke on her skin. You wanted to reach out to touch them, to thank her sweetly for defending you even as you spat fire on her wounds. You wanted to kiss all the smooth and rough patches you could see, lull her into a soft sleep-

“This is gonna get back to Silco in a couple of days tops.”

You scoffed. “What, is he gonna raise my rent? Doesn’t he have a revolution to claim to run?”

Deep down, you were impressed with what Sevika let you get away with saying to her. Inadvertently discounting her life’s work was no small thing, and you’d seen her put others on the ground for less. It was even more surprising when she gave a real answer to your poor-faithed question.

“You should’ve kept your head low. And let me deal with it. Not- cut a guy’s hand off.” She shook her head, rubbing her forehead. You opened your mouth to refute your lost honor, but she beat you to it, “You’re too… competent. He’ll wanna bring you in now. And you’re no good to the Undercity if he pockets you.”

You’re about to ask her why the hell does she work for him then, but another piece clicks into place before the words surface. Sevika watches the realization cross your face. “So that’s why you…”

“Trust me,” Sevika took hold of your wrist as she raised her head to stare scrutinizingly at your wall, and guided you to press the cloth back to her face. “The collections I take from you are cheaper than really being under his heel. You should see what he takes from that Sheriff up in Piltover.” She breathed out a humorless laugh. Your eyes widened, as the scope of Silco’s reach did too. **

You were a fool. Had going straight truly dulled your cunning mind? (Or was it just the handsome woman sitting in your living room…)

“That’s the discounted price too, by the way,” she muttered. You were pulled from your thoughts with a soft laugh.

“I knew you were fond of me.”

“I like what you do for the kids.”

“It’s nothing,” you said softly, surveying the injury on her face and deeming it sufficiently stabilized to move onto the next. You were glad, at least, that the brunt of the pain had been inflicted on you two rather than your good-willed customers.

Sevika’s brow furrowed as she watched you go through the motions of prepping her next injury. Truthfully, she didn’t know why she let you drag her upstairs in the first place; the way you coupled your attentive- if not presumptuous- touch with barbed jabs at her gall for walking into your bar should’ve pissed her off. But she let you move her like you were a breeze.

Your movements were practiced, like you’d spent a whole lifetime sweeping up the broken pieces of stupid, pointless fights. Sevika looked down at the wanted poster again. “…How much is 100 Golden Krakens?” She asked.

You hummed as you tried to think of the best comparison in Zaun’s economy, “Probably eightteen months’ worth of what I make running the bar.”

“Janna-”

You laughed heartily as you carefully peeled the wax paper from a bandage. Subconsciously, you rubbed over the wound once it was patched to soothe the ache, not noticing how Sevika’s gaze immediately went to your nimble hand. “Why, you thinkin’ about turning me in?” You teased.

“Funny,” she deadpanned, “Would be one less pain in the ass for me, though.” She gave you a pointed onceover. Her feigned exasperation melted into a grin when you slapped her leg (albeit very weakly).

“You just said you like me!”

“That isn’t what I said,” she said, still feigning dismissal so smugly. You hated how well she wore a petty smirk, or how pretty her teeth were when she gleaned a real smile.

(You wanted to kiss that stupid look right off her face.)

Instead, all you did was roll your eyes, collapsing on the opposite end of the couch. In Sevika’s mind, she just won that encounter.

“You mind if I smoke?”

You waved your hand, looking out the window of your kitchen, “Worse has happened in my house today.” She didn’t pull your gaze back to her until you heard her shifting around for a longer amount of time than it should’ve taken for someone to find a cig and lighter. “Lose your lighter?” You mocked, taking in the cigarillo hanging out of her mouth as she patted down her pockets with mild frustration on her face.

“One of the bastards must have knocked it out of my pack,” she said with an agitated sigh. Her eyes perked up at the metal clink of… your lighter. You laid your head back against the arm of the couch, resting the open lighter slightly above your abdomen. Sevika’s breath caught as she realized how close she’d have to get to you- how close you’d make her get to you- to get a light.

Her eyes narrowed into a glare as they slid up to meet your gaze. She wasn’t about to make a coward of herself now, though. She held your expectant stare as she leaned down between your legs, one of her hands boldly bracing on your shin with a slight squeeze. She cupped her hand protectively around yours as she lit the end of her cigarillo. The way your eyes widened and your chest stopped rising with breath wasn’t lost on her.

I take it back, Kix, she thought, I don’t think she’s all that pissed.

She turned her head to the side as she blew smoke from her mouth. “Tell me something,” she said, her voice nearly a purr. You had to fight with your own goddamn eyes to tear away from the small puffs of smoke that left her mouth as she spoke. You cocked a brow. “Were you a pirate or something?” She asked. Her eyes widened slightly when you met her with silence. “Oh, sweet hell…”

“Don’t laugh!”

She laughed. You loved that she did.

“That was… a long time ago,” you waved your hand like you could bat the memories away, but they’d never felt more with you than today. You had nearly forgotten how easy it was to snatch someone’s life away. You’d made a fortune on it once, and yet… the muscle of ruthlessness had grown weak and disoriented with lack of exercise. You frowned to yourself, shaking your head. “I did a lot of things I’m not proud of.”

Sevika shrugged, taking another drag. “We don’t choose where life puts us,” she replied. You shouldn’t have been surprised by such a… thoughtful sentence leaving her mouth. But your brows still raised slightly as you looked at her. “I’m not gonna be the one to judge you around here.”

You frowned, guilt jabbing in your gut. “But I did you.”

“Maybe you weren’t wrong for it,” she retorted softly. Your eyes widened. She inhaled softly before continuing, swiveling her gaze to meet yours again. “I used to try an’ push Silco to do more for the kids. Get books smuggled in in between all the Shimmer requisitions,” she scoffed, shaking her head. Your heart squeezed as you watched her carefully begin to pull the curtains around her true self back- for you. “Give people resources, just… something. I didn’t realize I let four years go by ‘til I saw you doing all that for the kids the moment you touched down here.”

You sighed, swinging your legs over the edge of the couch to rub your face with both hands. “You really think I won’t be able to help them at all once Silco comes knocking?” You asked, biting your lip as you felt like what was the only answer was slowly enclosing around you.

Immediately though, Sevika shook her head. Your mouth opened slightly in confusion as she stood up from your couch. “No. I’m gonna handle this,” the determination in her step would have been beyond adorable if it weren’t for your utter bemusement. “I… owe you,” she said slowly. You wanted to laugh at how her fierce bravado seemed to come to a skidding stop the moment she had to make an admission on her pride.

“Oh yeah?” You teased.

She rolled her eyes as she pulled her cloak back on over her shoulders, concealing that absolute unit of a figure from your prying eyes. You smiled at how her broad shoulders were still very apparent, and the beginnings of her v-line peeked out with that damn cropped vest- get it together, Angel. “He’s gonna know I was here anyway, might as well make something out of it,” she explained (right, you bought that…), pausing again to scrutinize you, “You’re all good?”

Trigonometric equations started floating around in your head as you tried to decipher what she could possibly mean with that question, until her arched brow turned judgemental at how long you were taking to answer.

Oh. She was just asking about your… general wellbeing. Aw!

“O-oh, yeah, I’m all good,” you said. Truthfully too, you were more used to fighting the Bilgewater types than her, and had come out of the confrontation mostly unscathed. Your jaw stuttered as if to say more when she hummed and took a swift step forward, tilting your head up with her index and thumb.

“You’re not lying?” She asked lowly, turning your head gently from side to side.

“E-even if I was, it’s none of your business,” you snapped defensively. Dumbass. Did you have any idea how red your face was?

With an amused exhale from her nose, Sevika gently let go of your chin, fleetingly brushing her crooked index over your cheek. “Whatever you say, princess,” she said. She didn’t even give you a chance to shoot back something clever (as if you had something prepared) before she was sweeping towards the door, fixing her cigarillo in the corner of her mouth. “Your bar’s a mess,” she quipped over her shoulder, just to be a dick.

“Fuck you!” You called after her, the smile on your face crystal-clear in your tone. The last thing you saw was her pretty side-profile as she half-glanced at you with smug amusement lining her face, before she closed the door behind her.

You slumped back on the couch, letting out a heavy sigh. “That goddamn woman…” you muttered, “Fuck.”

[cybrasigilism]

Hi!! I’ve been reading a few of your works and I love your writing sm!! I’ve never done a request to a writer before, so I hope I’m not too vague or ambiguous (but I’m thinking what I’m about to ask could be TOO specific 💀), but I wanted to request an NSFW writing of Choi Su-Bong (Thanos) as a sub (and if you can, could you add a thing or two about edging him and/or overstimming him?). Personally, I’d preferably have them written as headcanons BUT whatever works best for you is most important, so I won’t mind whatever you decide to do :)

And if you’re uncomfortable with the request, ofc feel free to ignore! I appreciate it in advance if you do decide to write it, and I do hope you have a lovely day ❤️❤️

you won’t ever catch me turning down a thanos request, not while i live and breathe 😈🙏

TYSM FOR YOUR KIND WORDS BTW!! hopefully i did your vision justice :>

Submissive Headcanons! (Thanos/Choi Su-Bong/Player 230)

warning: smut and all things of the like (if you’re not used to seeing this warning on my page idk what to tell you) | not proofread | lowercase intended | sub!thanos | overstimulation | edging | begging | mommy kink if you squint | these are my headcanons for this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own

character: thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

A/N: we as a squid game society need more sub!thanos content, i’m happy to contribute my fair share. idk if this is ooc or not, because honestly i can see this guy being a total switch, but do with that what you will! enjoy :3 (lowkey running out of gifs for these stinkabutts) PS this may not be a read for you if mommy kink stuff makes you uncomfortable! i have many other thanos works that don’t contain that bc i know its not everyone’s cup of tea, i just thought it fit for these specific headcanons

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, readers discretion is advised

  ———‿‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿‿———

➤ thanos did not strike you as the submissive type, the absolute 180 that his personality made from the public eye to the bedroom was so drastic you could have gotten whiplash

➤ he will for sure be on his knees for you, both literally and figuratively. this man will do anything you ask of him, just as long as it means he gets to please you.

➤ he’s definitely the type to beg. he’ll give you the puppy dog eyes and go the whole nine yards if you agree to let him between your legs

➤ makes the most whorish sounds when you fuck him, especially when you praise him, even if its the smallest thing. even if you say something as simple as “right there, fuck yeah” he’ll be all over that shit, thanking you for letting him please you like that

➤ speaking of his moans, he gets quite high pitched when you guys get into it. i’m not talking anything crazy, just a lot higher than what you could have been expecting.

➤ some of the things you may expect thanos to say while you guys fuck can include:

“oh god, please keep fucking my cock, just like that”

“am i making you feel good, mommy? yeah?”

will straight up just call you mommy through his whimpers and whines if he’s too far gone

➤ goes crazy when you give him hickeys or bite his neck at any point that you can, whether it be before you guys have even stripped, as your jerking him off or while your actively grinding on his dick, he can’t get enough of it

➤ cries during rough sex, no further questions

➤ needs you to be touching him at all points of the sexual journey, loves when you rest your hands on his shoulders/chest as you ride him

➤ likes getting whipped THAT DAMN WIND AGAIN—

➤ goes ballistic when you pull his hair, the slutty sounds really show up then

➤ acts like he doesn’t like being edged, but he’s a sucker for it.

“fuck please…mommy just let me cum, oh fuck”

“i’ll do anything, i just need it so bad, i wan’ it p-lease”

➤ loves when you restrain him, it can be with anything. handcuffs, rope, your own two hands, ANYTHING

➤ choke him when he’s close, better yet, choke him while you edge him.

➤ he will cry when being overstimulated (trust you guys have a safeword set in place for overstimulating, as can be said for any other experimenting)

➤ loves physical touch during aftercare, it doesn’t have to be straight up cuddling, but just you touching/caressing him in any way at all

———‿‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿‿———

thanks so much for reading! as per usual, any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested!

have a fantastic night/day lovelies 💌

tags: @gongyoosgf @kvstjwonnie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga

[prettypinkpuddles]

Silent but so fucking deadly….

i just thought of and i’m going to get started. it’s just dirty sex. have fun with that.

includes: Al Haitham/Cyno/Neuvillette/Albedo (characters who are usually reserved and quiet, very demure ✨ )

Al Haitham wasn’t one of many words, not unless they were worth it. and you were definitely worth it with the way you were slobbering over his cock.

“fuck, keep doing that,” he huffed as his hand smoothed over his forehead, this glazed over look in his eyes. suddenly his head fell back and he let out this guttural sigh that seemed to ripple into a growl, “yes, oh fuck yes, baby.”

he gripped your head and stilled you; you bubbled out a choke and breathed out shortly through your nose before feeling his tip glide over your tongue rapidly. you squealed and gagged, but that only seemed to encourage him to fuck your head harder. Al Haitham groaned and let out an airy chuckle as he pushed himself into you slowly this time.

“could do this behind my damn desk, or when i wake up, when i need to relax…” he marveled and pulled you all the way to the tip, losing at you with lidded eyes and a sneaking grin. “just use this fucking throat until it’s raw.”

Cyno nearly trained himself to not speak, it was part of why he was so good at his job. the second he got home and saw you trying on a new set of blue lingerie from Fontaine. the color was perfect for your skin, the bra beautiful complimented your breasts, even as they’d fallen against your chest to the sides, your panties looked gorgeous, even when they were at your ankle and behind his head.

he buried his tongue into you, morning out deliciously for your pussy to absorb. you bit your lip and closed your eyes, pushing your head into the pillow as he flattened his tongue against your folds, lapping up your juices and slurping your clit with a singing hum.

“fuck, fuck, Cyno..” you whispered. “please keep going.” you whined. he chuckled deeply and slurped again loudly and you squealed, pushing him into you with your feet.

he pulled away just a bit to speak, “i’m sure you were just waiting for me to come home and see you like that.”

you didn’t bother to respond, he was just talking to himself, and your pussy but mostly himself. of how he thought you were playing this game, of waiting for him, how he wanted to rip your lingerie and just ruin you, turn you into a crying whore that only thought of him. how he wanted to plow his angry tip into your cunt and roll his hips through a gruelingly slow pace that left you on the edge.

your legs twitched and he pulled you close to him, plunged his fingers into you and curled them just right and you popped. his lower face was slicked with your essence and his hair was completely disheveled from your pulling. he wiped his chin and smothered a kiss just above your clit, then over your stomach, up to your chest and to your lips. the ones on your head. he grinned, “i hope you’re ready for all of that.”

you loved teasing Neuvilette. not because he would react in an embarrassed fashion, but because he’d just… tilt his head and try to explain it in a complex manner. it was a sweetest thing to you, how difficult he was with the simplest things you’d do; touching his cock with the tip of your heel, sitting under his desk to invite him to use your mouth, kissing his face as you sat on his lap, he’d just stay focused on his work until the day ended.

but this time, maybe he had enough or something, he stood up, locked the doors of his office and sat on one of the couches.

“come here,” he commanded gently and you did, walked to him and let him guide you to his lap. and he rolled himself over your thighs.

you gasped and put your hands on his chest as the thrust became more aggressive, his hands pulled you close to him and he grabbed your face, whispering lowly in your ear, “did you think that teasing was going to get you anywhere today?”

you shuddered as how deep he was, then squealed into his should at the feeling of his hand rolling over your pebbled clit, “Neuvillette,” you whispered but he tutted at you.

“Monsieur Neuvillette.” he corrected.

“Mon-monsieur…” you swallowed as he pushed you on your back, “please, we’ll be heard.”

he chuckled darkly as his eyes nearly made you freeze, “you may care, but you soon won’t, as i don’t.”

archons, did Albedo feel good. when he’d push his perfectly sculpted cock into you, when his lips would kiss your collarbone gently, but his teeth would bruise the skin of your neck.

his teal eyes came to look at you as he wrote down a few things, then he pushed his fingers knuckle-deep, causing you to yelp in surprise. a shaky plea erupted from you, his fingers swinging over your spongy inside in just the right way.

“tell me how it feels, Y/N.” he instructed as he pulled his fingers away from one another in a scissor form, “what does the elixir do to your body?” he had given you a liquid he had procured from doing something or other to a green plant he discovered, and you stupidly decided to test it on yourself after no result occurred from stagnant test subjects. it was really affecting your ability to think, talk, and you were unbelievably thirsty, but that didn’t matter with the way Albedo was fucking your cunt.

you could nearly formulate moans let alone words. how your thighs quaked, your neck ached from holding your head up, how everything was amplified and dulled at the same time, his fingers felt so… foreign, even though you’ve felt them everywhere. you opened your mouth and attempted to speak, only letting out a quivering breath. your mouth was impossibly dry, no spit was there, just dry lust.

“do your thighs feel heavy?” he described as he leered at you from his desk. his eyes flickered to your swollen, soaked pussy hole, “does the way that i twist my fingers make you see stars?”

you don’t know if you were starting to hallucinate or going crazy but you actually saw stars at that. “y-yes…. yes, Al… oh Daddy, please.” you tried your best to swallow, feeling this bubbled lump in your throat. his fingers began to move impossibly fast, pushing out your liquids all over the desk. you choked snd arched your back, nearly falling back against the desk but Albedo felt your thighs still. your head touched something hard and cold, maybe ice, it didn’t matter, what mattered was your gushing orgasm that was pouring over the desk.

“fuck… fuck fuckkkkkk.” you moaned and looked up, “fuck me. and record my reaction, please.”

(absolutely based this on the times i was high. will be going into further detail about this in another drabble…)

here’s some more of my content if you’re interested!

[solxamber]

Hi can I have Ignihyde for # 8, fluff or comedy. Thank you!

Anime Boot Camp || Idia Shroud ft. Ortho

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "This is non-negotiable" ; Genre: Fluff with Comedy ;

You should’ve known better. You really should have. But Idia had given you one of those rare, half-excited, half-nervous smiles, and you’d been putty in his hands.

“Sure, Idia,” you’d said with zero hesitation. “I’d love to watch the new season with you.”

A seemingly innocent offer. A simple act of camaraderie. And then, Idia had dropped the bomb.

“Great. We’ll start from season one. It’s non-negotiable.”

Season one?

“Wait—how many seasons are there?” you asked cautiously, trying to keep the panic out of your voice.

Idia adjusted his tablet, the glow highlighting his sinister grin. “Nineteen. Not including the movies, OVAs, or the bonus material. But don’t worry, the filler episodes are only about 35%.”

Your soul left your body.

“I—uh…” you stammered, searching for an escape. “Do we really need to watch everything? I thought we were just watching the new season?”

“You can’t watch season 20 without context!” Idia exclaimed, horrified. “You’d miss all the foreshadowing and character arcs! It’s essential to the viewing experience.”

You looked at him, and there it was: the genuine excitement in his eyes, the rare spark of passion that made him absolutely irresistible. Damn your stupid heart.

“Okay,” you sighed. “Let’s do it. Start from episode one.”

Idia’s face lit up, and if you weren’t already melting, his quiet “Y-you’re the best,” would’ve sealed the deal.

That’s how you found yourself on Idia’s couch, sandwiched between him and Ortho, with snacks piled precariously around you.

“This is the start of a life-changing journey,” Ortho said cheerfully, handing you a soda. “Big Brother has been waiting for someone to share this with forever!”

You glanced at Idia, who was trying to hide his blush behind his hoodie.

“You sure we’re not biting off more than we can chew here?” you asked weakly as the opening theme of season one blasted from the giant screen.

Idia waved you off. “Nah. If we watch at 1.5x speed, skip the ending songs, and only take five-minute breaks every eight episodes, we’ll finish in about four days.”

“Four days?”

“Non-negotiable,” he reminded you smugly, tossing popcorn into his mouth.

By day two, you’d developed Stockholm Syndrome for the characters.

“NO, KAZUTAKA, DON’T DO IT!” you yelled, clutching the blanket you’d stolen from Idia’s bed.

“It’s his tragic backstory arc,” Idia explained, completely unfazed by your emotional outburst. “He has to do it for the narrative payoff in season 14.”

You groaned. “This show is going to kill me.”

“It builds character,” Idia said, smirking.

Meanwhile, Ortho was a model of efficiency, pausing episodes precisely for snack breaks and bringing you hot towels like you were at an anime spa. You were starting to think Ortho might be the MVP of this whole operation.

“Ortho, you’re a saint,” you said as he handed you a cup of tea.

“I just want to support Big Brother’s happiness,” Ortho chirped, beaming.

Idia mumbled something unintelligible and pulled his hoodie tighter.

By day four, you were fully invested.

“THE PLOT TWIST! I KNEW IT!” you screamed, nearly knocking the bowl of chips off your lap.

“Pshh, called it back in episode 47,” Idia muttered, though the gleam in his eyes said he was enjoying this more than he’d admit.

“You did not!” you argued.

“I’ve seen this, like, three times, noob,” he retorted smugly.

Ortho, who had already created a mini shrine for your endurance, clapped in delight. “You’re catching up to Big Brother’s level of dedication!”

When the final credits rolled, you leaned back with a dramatic sigh. “We did it. I can’t believe we actually did it.”

“I can’t believe you survived,” Idia said, looking at you with a mix of awe and amusement.

“Maybe a family sometimes,” you said, stretching, “is just you, your crush, and his technomantic humanoid brother.”

Ortho tilted his head. “Does that mean you’re officially part of the family?”

You froze, glancing at Idia. His face was redder than a lava eel, and he was aggressively pretending to read something on his tablet.

“Well,” you said, smirking. “That depends on your brother.”

Idia groaned, burying his face in his hoodie. “You’re insufferable,” he mumbled.

And yet, when you shifted closer to nudge him playfully, he didn’t pull away.

Masterlist

[cherrieflavouredheadcanons]

Sorry to send you another request, but I just got hit with this sudden brainrot:

Could I get short headcanons of how the dorm leaders would do for the orange peel theory?

I was so into writing this, that I accidentally made it with the overblot gang (aka Jamil and not Kalim) and didn’t notice until I was done😭. I hope that’s okay, but if you want a Kalim one (or any others) just send in another request! Also these ended up way longer than i intended... But I hope you all enjoy them nontheless!

Orange peel theory 

Characters: Overblot gang CW: None, just fluff, established relationships, Reader is the prefect

Riddle Rosehearts

You and Riddle were studying together, or rather, he was studying and you pretended to study as you were looking at the oranges on the desk.

Whenever you studied together Riddle places a bowl of fruits on the table for you two to snack on, they were usually always strawberries and many other berries but today an Orange was included.

You remembered a trend from your world where people would ask their partners to peel an orange for them and it would show if they were willing to do small things for them, you smiled as you realised you finally had someone to test said theory out on.

Taking the orange into your hand you looked at it, and then at Riddle thinking for a moment before holding it out to him.

“Riddle, can you peel this for me please?”

The housewarden had been so focused on his studying that he got surprised when you asked him something, once he realised what you had asked he raised an eyebrow quietly wondering to himself why you couldn't do it yourself.

But he was raised to be a gentleman, and he honestly loved doing small things for you so he nodded and carefully peeled the fruit for you, making you smile.

Once you got the peeled fruit back you were amazed by how careful he peeled it, no white skin was seen anywhere anymore, and the pieces were all nicely separated.

Leona Kingscholar

Sitting in his room you stared at the Lion beastman laying on his bed, you knew he wasn’t sleeping yet by the way his tail flickered but he certainly was about to.

Ace had dared you to try the orange peel theory on Leona, more specifically try it when he was about to sleep and you agreed for some reason you can’t remember. He had given you an orange before you went to Savanaclaw to spend the night in Leona’s room.

“Hey…Leona?” Your voice was quiet as you asked, looking at your tired boyfriend.

“...mhm?” Well…at least he acknowledged you calling out to him. “...can you peel this orange for me?”

He lazily opened one eye, looking at you. “Can’t you do it yourself Herbivore?” His voice had a teasing tone in it, but he didn’t move a muscle.

You visibly deflated, granted you had expected such an outcome but still, it was kinda disappointing.

Leona sighed once he saw you looking disappointed and sat up. “Hand over the orange.” You perked up as soon you heard it and handed it over with a smile.

He peeled it and then gave you the orange along with the peels back. “Never ask me for anything again.” He said as he laid back down, but you knew he wasn’t serious. “Also come sleep with me once you eat your damn orange.”

His peeling job wasn't the best, and there was a lot of the white skin left on the orange and the pieces weren’t separated,  but you were flattered that he still did it. And of course you cuddled up to him once you ate it.

Azul Ashengrotto

Sitting in the Mostro Lounge you were eating from a fruit platter Azul had brought you, a blush on his face as he sat it down in front of you.

Just as you were about to take a strawberry from it, Floyd suddenly put an Orange on it. “Heey Shrimpy, I have heard of this trend that couples do involving an orange and I wanna see you try it on Azul!”

You knew what trend he was talking about and were confused why he wanted you to try it on Azul, but he refused to say the reason at least until you actually did it. Knowing Floyd, you knew he would keep pestering you until you did.

Sighing, you grabbed the orange and made your way to Azul’s office as Floyd cheered you on.

Walking into the office you saw him working on some contracts. “Hey, Azul? Floyd gave me an Orange for my fruit platter, but it’s not peeled so could you maybe do it for me?”

Poor Azul did not expect you to suddenly be in his office, he got so scared he choked on his spit for a second, looking at you like you were a ghost.

“Angelfish! You can’t just come in here with no warning and scare me like that!” You did not say anything in return instead you held out the orange to him and looked at him expectedly.

“Expecting me to peel you an orange without me getting anything back? How preposterous” He had a blush on his face as he took the orange out of your hands, peeling it nonetheless. You smiled knowing he didn’t need you to give him anything back for peeling it. He handed you the peeled orange back, and you kissed his cheek as a thanks making the poor octopus blush even harder.

His peeling job was immaculate, with how well it was peeled you could think a robot did it, and of course he separated the pieces for you as well.

Jamil Viper

Sitting in the Scarabia lounge you were waiting for Jamil to come back from cooking a meal for Kalim, you wanted to join him and help him but he refused saying you should just wait in the lounge. You were scrolling through Magictok to pass the time a bit faster 

As you sit there scrolling you notice the fruit basket sitting there. You remembered Kalim telling you that you can just grab whatever they are there to be eaten after all.

That's when you come across a video talking about the orange peel theory, you see people explain it and also try it out.

Not only does it make you crave an orange, but it also makes you wanna try the theory on Jamil. But you knew he had much on his plate already, having to make every meal for Kalim, so you decided against it. You were pretty sure that Jamil would do it if you asked him anyways. 

You put your phone aside and go to grab an orange from the basket, looking for the best one. (They are all of the highest quality since Kalim brought them). Grabbing a nice big one you want to start peeling it.

That’s when suddenly it gets snatched out your hand, looking up to see who took your orange, ready to lecture them you see its Jamil. Wordlessly he starts peeling it.

You look at him confused, when did he come in and how did you not notice it? He could have said something at least instead of scaring you by snatching your orange. If he wanted one you would have given him one!

Just as you were about to ask him why he took your orange away and began peeling it himself, he held out a perfectly peeled  piece to you, making you even more confused. “What? You wanted an orange right?" He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as you smiled at him and took the piece, as he continued peeling the rest of the orange for you and giving you piece by piece. You didn’t even have to ask him for it, which made you smile, thinking to yourself that you had in fact won the orange peel theory

Vil Schoenheit 

He had invited you to his room for a self care night between the two of you. Skincare haircare and everything, of course all prepared by him. He can’t have you use the basic drug store products can he?

You sit in front of him, smiling as he carefully applies a cream to your face, his touch lightly tickling you. He scolds you for moving, but you can hear there is a slight smile in his voice.

As he applies the cream you realise it smells like oranges, which reminds you that you and Epel once talked about how Vil would do regarding the orange peel theory. Maybe now was a good time to try it out?

“Viiil…?” You ask in the most innocent voice you can. He doesn’t answer, instead he looks at you and raises one of his perfectly plucked eyebrows. “Do you think…you could peel me an orange?”

“Darling, it is nearly time for bed. I don’t know if an orange now is such a good-” He couldn’t finish his sentence as he saw how you gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

With a sigh he got up and said “Fine, but only if you promise to brush your teeth right after so we can go to bed, I am not sacrificing my 8 hours of sleep just because you want an Orange.” And with that he left for the Pomefiore kitchen.

Giddily you sat on his bed, texting Epel the result of the orange peel theory, poor Epel was so shocked that his housewarden agreed to peel you an orange so short before his sleep time.

Before you could answer anything back to the first year, Vil came back in the room with orange slices on a platter.

The slices were peeled beautifully, and rearranged symmetrical next to each other. Just as you were about to grab the plate, Vil pulled it out of your range and gave you a sly smirk. He picked a slice up and held it to your mouth, obviously alluding that he would feed them to you which made you flustered.

Idia Shroud

You and him were in his room having a gaming session together. Though you needed a short break so you let Idia play alone for a bit.

Sitting on his bed, you sipped some water just silently watching your boyfriend, thinking about your relationship and smiling at the many small things he does for you.

Well small to everyone else, but you knew how much it scares him to do some things, so those ‘small’ gestures meant the world to you.

As you were thinking about small gestures, you remembered the orange theory and thought why not try it on your boyfriend? It wouldn’t prove anything, whether  he said yes or no, he proved enough that he would do small things for you, but you wanted to do it for fun.

“Hey Idia?” You called out to him, waiting for a sign from him that he had heard you. Still looking at his screen he gave you an affirmative nod and asked “What’s up?” 

“I kinda feel like an orange.” You said, looking at him expectantly to see what he would say next. You could see him stop his movements both in real life and in game which concerned you. “...Idia..?” Pausing the game he slowly turned around and looked at you, a confused look on his face.

“...like…emotionally?” He asked in the most serious and confused tone you could imagine. 

You could tell from his face he was sincere when he asked and wasn’t messing with you. For a second you could not believe what he had asked you, it felt surreal. But then you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. You wanted to say something but your laughter stopped you from doing so, instead you fell backwards on his bed, laughter never dying.

Idia now was even more confused, why were you laughing? That's when he realised what you actually meant, and began blushing furiously, his hair now a shade of pink. He wanted to crawl in a hole and die, but…if you really wanted an orange (and promised not to mention it to anyone ever) he would peel you one…

Malleus Draconia

Malleus had invited you to a meeting of the Gargoyle Research society (as if those meetings aren’t just him walking alone through the school). And of yours you agreed.

He was holding your hand as he led you along the school grounds, telling you facts about all the different Gargoyles.

You listened intently, smiling at him and asking him questions every now and then to show him you were interested in what he was telling you, which made him happy and tell you more enthusiastically.

Though at one point you began craving some food, which got you to thinking, how would your boyfriend react to the orange peel theory? You couldn’t imagine him denying you an orange, but you also couldn’t see him peel one? Maybe it was because of his royal status..

“Hey Hornton?” You asked him and he looked into your eyes, his gaze gentle. “Yes, my child of man?” “Do you think you could get me and peel me an orange? I am kinda craving one…”

He looked surprised at first and then began quietly laughing “Fufufu..I already knew you were special, yet here you are proving it once again, asking the future king of Briar Valley to prepare you some food.” He closed his eyes and smiled “Just wait here my dear and I will fetch you what you want”

You smiled at him and nodded, and he teleported away, only leaving his firefly like lights behind.

Sitting down on a bench you waited for him to come teleport in front of you again. But when he was gone for nearly 10 minutes you slightly began to worry…did Lilia somehow end up cooking something once he learned you wanted some food and Malleus wanted to save you from it? Or was-

Just as you were about to keep thinking about it, Malleus appeared back in front of you…With a massive bowl full of orange slices in it. You gawked at the sheer amount, how was one human supposed to eat all of that? “Child of man, I did not know how many you wanted, so I told Sebek to fetch me every Orange he could find, and then peeled them all by myself.” He was so proud of himself, that you couldn’t help but smile but still wondered what to do with that many Oranges…maybe some of the other first years would want them?

[bonus-links]

Have you done commentary on your favorite page yet?

okay this is kind of hard to answer bc there's lots of updates I'm rlly proud of but i think RUINS pt. 3 is my personal favorite so i'm gonna do that one :D

genuinely I think this is the best set of pages I have ever made and I will probably never top them. literally how did I manage this. how have I never cooked like this since. I feel like I have lost this sauce somehow lolol

really I think it's just that I haven't drawn that much action since this. as a writer I rlly gravitate towards more character-driven, dialogue heavy scenes. which also happen to be rlly hard to make into visually interesting comics 😂 sometimes I think it's a flaw of mine but u know what. the point of making this comic is to do whatever I want

anyway. I know i'm just sort of screenshotting this whole page but I really like this sequence. the way that the momentum carries from the lizalfos choking loft into him getting slammed into the ground just really works. I also feel like this color palette is so cohesive. i love this like. acidic yellow and green combo. i should use it more often

this poor lizalfos cowering in the face of beetle's might. side note I kind of miss beetle's big pincers but I don't miss drawing them. I don't rlly regret the beetle redesign HAHA

I also LOVE this set of panels. Lightning powers should always come with glowing eyes, I think. it's non-negotiable.

I didn't even plan this panel in the sketch. It was originally supposed to be a full page, and I literally just wrote "lol" and left it for myself to figure out later. i knew what I wanted it to look like in my head, but it took FOREVER to figure out. It's not perfectly drawn but I still like how it turned out!

i remember this entire fight sequence took SO MUCH planning. I literally spent forever zooming around the spring of courage in botw trying to understand all the different angles I would need. I took so many screenshots.

anyway I knew I wanted Slate's first words to be "well, damn' since the beginning HAHA. Bro was just hanging out in Faron minding his own business before this. He was gonna step in eventually but it seemed like loft had it under control 😂 also, Loft's powers include chain lighting!

anyway that's all I got really, not too much to say abt this one but I'm still really proud of how it turned out

[gaywineauntsstuff]

My favorite thing I’ve seen is AUs where characters are trans and nothing changes and nobody knows until they accidentally have to lore dump and they’re fine with it bc they lowkey assume these people close to them know they’re trans and everyone’s like??????? HUH? Since when

Anyway support my trans!Dick Grayson headcanons bc fuck you i can

- Dick told his parents he was a boy at like age 3 and they were like… fuck it sure.. we’ll pick you a new name

-John Grayson then despairs bc his brother then gleefully informs him that John promised to name their first boy after him bc he lost a bet. Mary thinks it’s too funny to not go along with

-3 Yro Dick has a lisp and can’t pronounce his own name and finds out Dick is a nickname and proceeds to immediately go by it and yell at anyone who doesn’t use his new name

- Kid has no documents and grew up in a circus so when he ends up in Gotham. There are literally no issues at all.

- Bruce adopts him as Richard John Grayson and is none the wiser about anything

-Alfred is the first one to find out when at 11 Dick freaks out and thinks he’s hemorrhaging in the bathroom bc he’s bleeding. Cue realization moment! Followed by many many many awkward questions and Alfred being awesome assumes his grandson is stealth and maybe doesn’t want anyone including Bruce to know so he takes over every and Dick gets the medications he needs with no issue

- second person to realize is Roy bc they’re messing around btw (Dick did not inform him of this before, Roy is 100% Cool with it and goes… damn okay…anyway bc he’s chill like that)

-now about 700 new bats have happened and Dick is nightwing and literally the only people who know anything at all are his current/previous partners and Alfred

And shenanigans ensue with Jason catches Dick injecting something…while he has no injuries… no nothing

Now Jason freaks ofc bc??? DICK WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Listen he might hate all of them but he is VERY MUCH not okay losing another relative to addiction wtf he’s not having a panic attack fuck you

Anyway

Dick just goes “Jason calm down it’s just my t-shot” and Jason who definitely didn’t jump to conclusions bc he’s sleep deprived and has a 16 hour run in with fear toxin is like

“What the fuck is that?? Is that something new on the street what’s happening dick? Are you doing untested Shit?

And Dick who has had to DEAL with Jason during 16 hours of fear toxin induced terror, as well as the rest of the family and would really like to go chill days in front of many of his family members: testosterone Jason. Bc I’m trans

To which everyone is confused

Dick is too tired to realize this and goes the fuck to bed

Bruce then panics bc “wait what if he wasn’t that accepting when Dick was younger and that’s why Dick didn’t ever come out? What did he do that made his son feel like he couldn’t talk to Bruce about it”

Tim is annoyed bc he is supposed to know things and now he owes Bernard money bc they had an argument over which letter each batfam member corresponds to

This is based off that one supernatural fic where somehow Sam was oblivious to his brother being trans anyway

[guardianofnightmares]

Sunrise

Faint beam of artificial light from a surface danced off yellow armor of an Autobot, giving it a color of a newborn star. Bumblebee graced the Decepticon with a broad smile, its warmth making the hostile gloom around his facial features to dissipate.

To Blitzwing a minibot reminded a stray ray of hope which arrived to safe lost souls from a long dead and forgotten world.

A true rising sun in the realm of darkness.

----------

Alright, fellas, next entry to the @blitzbee-week event is finally here)). The prompt of the second day was "Sunrise" and I decided to go more figuratively with it rather then depicting a literal "appearance of the sky" at a particular part of a day. As you can guess by a provided description, Bee basically becomes a "leading star" for a brooding Blitzwing, who, as it seems, is not that thrilled by discovery of his partner.

Just as a previous entry to a mentioned event, this picture is dedicated to my fanfic called "TFA: Icarus". Here's a [link] for the series "folder" which also includes an existing teaser (future prologue) for a story if anyone wants to give it a try. Again, can not thank you enough for all the support you've shown for it so far, I will try my best to come up with updates soon enough.

As it usually goes with such works of mine, I will provide the full snippet of one of chapters, which a depicted scene is taken from, under a cut line for anyone wishing to read more about the scene. Hope you'll enjoy it)

To the surprise of many comrades he’d worked with, the Triplechanger proved to be the most patient mech on a team when it came to long lasting missions. Usually he didn’t find it difficult to lay low and wait for orders to come, even if it meant to stay idle for several solar cycles. It was a useful trait of character which Decepticon rightfully prided himself of. 

Yet, even a seemingly boundless patience had its limits. 

“Can you see anything of use out there?” Blitzwing finally asked his unfortunate “partner in crime”.

A brightly colored mech slipped on the spot upon hearing Con’s voice but managed to regain his balance. 

“Not yet, Blitzwing, give me a klik!” A minibot shouted over his shoulder, holding on the steel bar for dear life. “Climbing is not as easy as I’m surely making it look in your optics.”

If Bumblebee planed to cheer up a Warframe with such a comment, he failed miserably, for it only seemed to sour up an already bad mood of a tall mech. 

To a Decepticon, it felt like forever since the minibot began his ascend up a steep scarp of a crumbled wall. One would think that, thanks to his light frame, he’d manage to reach the top level in no time. But even this uneven terrain, made of torn sheets of metal and broken cables, proved to be a challenge to an agile Autobot. 

The damned energy chain, which linked limbs of both mechs to each other, clearly was the greatest obstacle for Bumblebee, barely giving him a chance to move as far away from a somber mech as possible. Not to mention that a Decepticon was forced to stand on one pede in order to accommodate his companion’s slow conquest of new heights. 

Admittedly, a Triplechanger considered an option of tearing the bug’s pede he’s bound to off. But that type of cuffs always latched onto anything in their vicinity (while being activated). Meaning, the chances of getting tied to a nearby wall, as a result of said actions, reached more than 90%. 

Tearing his own pede off was not part of a Warframe’s plans. 

“If you haven’t noticed it yet, Bumblebee Prime, we don’t have plenty of time left to hide in these tunnels,” A “former” convict grumbled in response while surveying his surroundings for an up-tenth time. He didn’t notice how a Bot winced at the mention of his new title.

Minibot knew he deserved that snide remark. But it did not make him feel better about his recent promotion to an Elite Guard. Or about a decision to become one for that matter. The decision which led to a situation where an Autobot and a Decepticon got lost under an Iacon city. 

They had to hide in maintenance tunnels from the times prior to a Great War. Tunnels built by Decepticons for Autobots’ use, and left by them to slowly rot in an utter disrepair after the said War was officially ended. Sealed off since the banishment of Warframes from Cybertron, eventually the structure turned into an urban myth not many of currently living mechs remember or even know about.

An old complex Blitzwing and Bumblbee were currently navigating in was once part of the major supportive structure. Meant to protect veins and tubes once full of energon, that section was made of sturdy materials which stoically passed the test of time. 

The Decepticon would’ve lied if he’d said he’s not pleasantly surprised by that discovery. 

But it did not bright up his mood by much - they still needed to find a way to the surface level of a planet. 

“Foolish of me to expect a scout with no field experience to do a Warframe’s job,” the mech muttered under his breath, words bitter on his glossa. “Perhaps I should have been the one to search for an exit after all”.

Blitzwing had no intent for the last sentence to be heard by his peer, but an aforementioned scout, apparently, had nicely tuned audials. 

Figures. 

“And to risk exposing your Decepticon signature to raging authorities? No, thanks!” Bumblebee chirped after successfully reaching for a rod sticking out of a long abandoned structure. “It was already enough of me putting everything at risk by making stupid decisions - I don’t want to see you following my lead.”

Somehow the fact that a minibot admitted his mistakes helped to somewhat cool Blitzwing down. He said nothing in return but did glance at him once prior returning to surveying desolated surroundings. 

Bumbler’s changed since the promotion to the ranks of an Elite Guard. He seemed to act more mature, even if he’s still naive about most things happening around him. For strangers it’d be an unexpected change of character for such an optimistic and energetic Bot as Bumblebee. But Blitzwing was no random outsider, whether he liked to be on closer terms with a current companion of his or not. 

Death of a teammate has effected the minibot on a much deeper level then he’d ever admit to anybody, even to himself. Yet, despite how horrible it might’ve sounded, the Decepticon thought that that was an important lesson every soldier had to live through. And as a mech, who’s witnessed deaths of many of his comrades throughout the Great War, he had to agree that Bumbler was holding up pretty well for someone so inexperienced in mentioned matters. 

Even Blitzwing, who did not know Prowl as well as a yellow Bot did, felt the loss of a mech effecting him as well to a certain degree. No matter how secluded and cold the cyber-ninja seemed to be, he always had a special aura around him, the one that made people feel at ease in his presence. Though how he could so freely speak to a Con about importance of life and probability of peace among Cybertronians remained a mystery to him to that solar cycle.  

What was that thing black and golden Autobot’s talking about during the last conversation of theirs? 

“To have Faith not in Primus, not in The Allspark, but in each other”?

What exactly made him see it being possible back then and, especially, at a current stage of the reignited conflict between factions? Triplechanger had no answer to that question either. He didn’t view how the world should work the same way Prowl did. Could not fully comprehend the intricacies of a philosophy of an Autobot, but, at least, did not lack the courage to make it very clear during a mentioned discussion of theirs.

Blitzwing didn’t have Faith in anyone anymore, and he surely wouldn't in a foreseen future. 

For who could remain being supportive of their unhelpful, unwanted partn-… Autobot, while being lost in Allspark forsaken place with no means of escape?

…

“… -es! I see the gap in a wall!.. Blitzwing, I actually see it!”

The joyful voice tore Triplechanger from a deep melancholy state he slipped into while looking down a dark tunnel to his left. He raised his ruby optics, their faint glow barely lighting sharp features of his blue faceplates.

“Right where you’ve predicted it to be,” The Autobot added after turning around in order to face his unfortunate companion, unintentionally giving him quite a peculiar view of his small form.

Faint beam of artificial light from a surface danced off yellow armor of an Autobot, giving it a color of a newborn star. Bumblebee graced the Decepticon with a broad smile, its warmth making the hostile gloom around his facial features to dissipate.

To Blitzwing a minibot reminded a stray ray of hope which arrived to safe lost souls from a long dead and forgotten world.

A true rising sun in the realm of darkness.

...

Blitzwing huffed in mild annoyance at himself and his artistic side of a processor - it was not the right moment for poetic comparisons. Hope and Faith had no place in a situation he was stuck in, only cold calculations. He and Bumbler had to get out of that place, no matter the cost. And the sooner they’d get rid of an energy chain, the better.

[starkspondwater]

kyle broflovski x reader who is seen as the weird kid because she doesn't talks alot,has social anxiety,and likes things like five nights and Freddy's and listens to weezer ( also if your comfortable with it can they be dating pretty please it's ok if not I completely understand also how have you been hopefully good?)

I am currently getting over being sick, so I've been aa huge baby for the last 2 days but all is good! I hope you've been doing well too!

I tried to make sure I included everything- sometimes a little subtly and I hope that's alright! (I also don't think any of those things is weird, but I also know how shallow people get with interests so I wrote that in!)

Summary: Kyle's got a girlfriend that some of his classmates find a little odd. While he loves how different she is, he can't help but feel anger at how others have been treating her (fluff)

a/n: Cartman is an ass in this because I think he makes for an easy antagonist. I did add a bit of conflict because we know Kyle is protective over people he cares for and you'd have to pry that hc from my cold dead hands.

An Odd Pair- Kyle Broflovski x Weird!Reader

“Kahl, what the fuck is wrong with your girlfriend?”

“Watch your goddamn mouth, fat ass,” Kyle narrowed his eyes at the large boy to his left. It was game night at Stan’s and while Kyle wasn’t super into board games, he wasn’t going to pass up a chance to spend time with most of his favorite people, Cartman excluded.

“I’m just saying, the bitch is weird and you need to drop her if you want your social stock to rise,” shoving a handful of cheesy poofs in his mouth, Cartman continued talking through his mouthful. “I’m just trying to help you, Jew.”

“Cartman, lay off. Let Kyle like who he likes, it’s not like it affects you,” Stan jumped in, the instructions to their game loosely held in his hands. Kyle could tell he was already growing irritated as it had been an hour passed and they had not gotten any closer to actually playing the damn game.

“Nuh-uh! I have to see her everywhere!” 

Standing up abruptly, Kyle strode out of the kitchen to the back porch, taking in the fresh air. He was getting really tired of this shit. It was one thing when it was Cartman since he was always an asshole, but lately he had started hearing the same sentiments from other friends of his and he was growing more and more pissed off.

He can easily recall the first day he met you, a fond smile finally breaking out on his lips. He had seen you around before in hallways around school or at lunch, always with earbuds in and eyes glued to the phone in your hands. To most people you would be just another character in the background, but to him you were different. Interesting. 

Most kids around here hid their more…special interests. After elementary school the true popularity contests started making others bury hobbies and loved activities deep underground. Stan had his board games, Butters had his cozy sims, even Cartman had his interest in animation, but none of it was considered public information to the masses. 

You, however, wore yours on your sleeve. Shirts depicting games, movies, and bands you constantly wore showed off many of those things you so loved. More than once, Kyle had even caught sight of your phone and recognized some of the let’s plays you watched. You did that one quite openly, phone propped up on your desk or the lunch table as you ate. 

It was…off putting. In a small town, differences set you apart in a bad way. As a result you were either straight up ignored or talked about in hushed whispers behind your back. Kyle, however, only felt a pull towards you. 

He knew you were quiet and preferred solitude to being in crowds from how he watched you. It was a Friday afternoon when school had let out that he finally caught you sitting on a bench outside of the school. You had immediately frozen at the sight of him, but before you could rise and dash away he pointed to your shirt.

“Five Nights? I, uh, played that with my little brother. It’s pretty good, right?” His voice was uncertain, unsure if it was the right thing to say. When your eyes widened and a shy smile appeared, he knew it was.

You sat there for close to two hours after school had let out, talking about various games, which turned into discussing music, which eventually led to him dropping you off at home with the promise to talk on discord. Oh how he really liked you then. 

He could say with certainty that he loved you now.

It had been months of late night chats, watching let’s plays, and listening to each other's playlists that slowly started sounding very much the same. Kyle had a lot of his own safe-for-school hobbies like playing a few sports casually and being on debate (which thanks to Wendy Testaburger was considered a popular thing nowadays), but you brought out things about himself that made him feel young and relaxed. There wasn’t any shame in liking those things- especially since you liked them.

And he wasn’t going to stand for any slander against you.

_____

“Hey pretty!” Kyle greeted you with a quick kiss to the cheek. The hallway was bustling with students socializing and preparing for the day ahead. All you wanted to do was grab your books and get to your classroom before even more people could flood in.

“Hey,” your quiet voice was sweet to his ears, “Weren’t you supposed to drive Ike this morning? I figured I wouldn’t see you til lunch!” Something about Kyle always gave you a fluttery feeling on the inside. He was insanely sweet and kind, and if you were honest, the only person you knew outside of family that didn’t give you some sort of anxiety.

“He hitched a ride with Kenny’s sister. I actually wanted to ask you something…” he had been thinking this over all night, looking for a possible solution to the little problem with his friends. He thought that perhaps if he could show how wonderful you were to his friends, that they might just lay the fuck off. And maybe that could spread to some of the other people he knew, like a domino effect. 

It was a long shot but he needed to do something.

“We’re having a little get together at Cartman’s, and I wanted you to go with me.” 

You just stared owlishly at the boy in front of you.

“Why?” Kyle blinked at the question.

“You’re my girlfriend…I don’t know, I just want my friends and my girlfriend to hang out every once in a while.” He rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t expecting you to jump for joy at the thought but didn’t expect you to just stand there frozen.

After a few moments you seemed to break out of your daze, scrunching your eyebrows in thought. You really didn’t want to do this, the thought of being in a space like that with people you knew didn’t like you was…a lot. You heard the whispers, it’s not like they were being particularly that quiet about it, you just ignored them. But being at a party…you couldn’t ignore it then.

But Kyle looked so disappointed, like he already knew what your answer would be. He did so much already, like putting up with you and dealing with your little quirks. Maybe you could do this one thing, and everything would be fine.

“Sure.” The beaming smile he gave told you all you needed to know. You were going to your first party.

_____

It had already been going on for a while by the time the two of you arrived, music pouring out of the teen filled home.

You already wanted to leave.

“He said it was just going to be a few people…” Kyle muttered, the hand that wasn’t holding yours clenching. He turned to you nervously. “If you want to bail, I get it.”

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head. It would be fine.

Kyle led you through the crowd in the front room, heading resolutely to the kitchen. He heaved a sigh of relief seeing Kenny and Stan at the counter. 

“Hey dude! Was wondering when you’d show- oh hey Y/N!” Kenny’s bright toothy grin did little to calm your nerves. You had spent very minimal time with Kyle’s close friends, much less with Cartman who would loudly proclaim that you were ‘ruining guy time.’ It wasn’t like they were awful to you, but it was painfully awkward at the best of times.

“Hi…” with a small wave of your hand you tried to smile back in greeting. You quickly noticed the look Stan gave over your head to Kyle, and went to look at the red head who only gave you a reassuring hand squeeze. 

“Want a drink?” Stan angled the question more at you than Kyle, making you shake your head. “Not a big drinker, that’s alright!” 

The three boys started their conversation easily, with a comfort you could only wish to have in that regard. You tried to be a part of it the best you could, really, but every time there was a pause where you could insert yourself in you just stayed silent. But still, this wasn’t as god awful as you thought it would-

“Kahl. What the hell is she doing here?” An obnoxious voice boomed from the doorway making you flinch. Eric Cartman was as intimidating to you as anything. He was brash and loud, two things you did not mesh with in the slightest. 

“She’s my girlfriend asshole, I’m allowed to bring her to a party if I want.” Kyle kept his voice steady but the malice behind the words was heard loud and clear. A few other party goers in earshot stopped and turned.

You could feel a prickling feeling behind your eyes, your brain starting to go fuzzy with all the thoughts flying around in your head. Eric and Kyle had begun exchanging heated words but all you could hear was the little voice in your brain chanting ‘You need to leave.’

Your eyes darted around, spotting the sliding glass door to the back yard. It wasn’t a direct exit to the front, you thought as you turned towards the door, but it would have to do. Before you could take a step however, a hand firmly, but not painfully, gripped your upper arm.

“Hey, mind if I come with?” Kenny still had that carefree smile on his face as he maneuvered you outside, sliding the door shut and cutting out some of the party noise. Sitting down on the small wooden porch, he gestured for you to do the same. He lit a cigarette, letting smoke rise into the air for a few minutes while you calmed down.

“Y’know, Kyle talks about you a lot,” he said with a chuckle, “like I don’t think I’ve ever heard the guy express affection the way he does with you.”

Your cheeks heated at his words. Fiddling with the bracelets at your wrist you said nothing, not because you didn’t want to, but because at the moment your brain could only draw blanks. 

“He’s a lot more relaxed now too, which is great because I’m sure you know how stressed he gets,” putting out his smoke on the damp grass below, the blond turned and looked at you. “I know you’re a little shy and all, but we would like to get to know you a little more outside of what Ky tells us. After all, if our ginger is serious enough about you to make this kind of scene, you must be something special.”

Sure enough you could hear the faint sound of Kyle drilling into Cartman, but refused to look. You struggled to keep your eyes on Kenny’s face as you tried to stamp down the anxiety that had been steadily coiling throughout the day. It meant a lot that Kyle thought so highly of you, even if no one else here did, and you thought the same of him. He obviously wanted you to be around his friends in some capacity…it couldn’t hurt to let them in, at least a little.

_____

It took Stan, Clyde, and Tolkien to separate the two boys before it came to blows. It wasn’t unlike Cartman to instigate things to such a degree, but Kyle had been on edge for a while now when it came to you. Stan figured it was about time for things to come to a head. 

“Hey man, chill out for a minute. Turn away from him.” Stan had a strong grip on Kyle’s shoulders, forcibly turning him away from the rest of the room. “You alright?”

“I am just so sick of people saying stuff about her!” Kyle’s voice had dropped, but the anger was ever present. “She’s just trying like everyone else to be happy. She’s allowed to like different things, so what if it’s not ‘cool’ or some shit! You know she-” 

Kyle’s eyes caught something over his friend’s shoulder, causing Stan to turn around. Through the sliding doors sat you and Kenny hunched over your phone, laughter barely heard from their place inside.

“Well, she seems to be doing just fine,” Stan smiled at the sight. He had been a little wary of you at first, but once he saw how happy Kyle had become once getting together with you, he was sold. Despite how odd a pair the two of you may have seemed to the superficial social hierarchy of South Park, he saw that you two fit each other perfectly.

“I really shouldn’t have dragged her here,” sighing, Kyle sagged a bit next to his friend. “She’s got some social anxiety and I know this is not her cup of tea. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so hasty.”

Both boys watched for a moment as you and Kenny talked. After another minute you both made your way back inside with twin grins. Kyle was relieved that even after his fit you didn’t hesitate to mold yourself back to his side, fingers interlacing with his own.

“Stan, get this, Weezer is going to be in Denver next month. You, me, Y/N, and Kyle. If we pool our money together we can easily have enough gas to get there and back,” Kenny then turned and bowed to you, who had since erupted into giggles. “Miss Y/N here has graciously informed me that she knows how to get discounted tickets.”

“Oh I’m fucking down!” Stan was grinning now too, his eyes bright, “and it would do Cartman well to miss out on something he likes for once.”

“Oh, he’s a fan?” You asked, tilting your head. You had recalled hearing that same boy make fun of another kid for wearing a band T shirt, so the whole thing was rather confusing. 

“Oh, big time,” Kyle peered down at you, affection clear in his eyes. “Besides, it’ll be much more fun with just us four.”

The party was forgotten as your group of four stayed huddled in the kitchen discussing possible plans and having a much more relaxed time than you had expected. Kyle watched as his friends happily talked with you, and for once you talked back with a confidence he never saw out of your private moments together. The whole picture in front of him made him feel warm, knowing that you were making two new friends that he knew were good enough for you.

Maybe he didn’t need everyone to like you. If they didn’t, they certainly weren’t worth it. In his mind nothing about you or what you liked was wrong or weird, that you were perfect regardless of anyone else’s opinions. That’s all that mattered to him.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Dune: Prophecy episode 1 thoughts, tried to keep it vague to avoid major spoilers:

Wow there is a lot of exposition. Like a LOT of exposition, especially in the first 10-15 minutes when we're not invested in any of the characters yet. I hope this is a first episode problem.

Ah they went the coward's route and used "Great Machine War" instead of "Butlerian Jihad."

There's an interesting "history is written by the victors" thread there right from the beginning that I hope they pull on some more.

I love how they did the Voice, which appears early in the episode, because both the actor's performance and the sound design of it are slightly different from the films. It really feels/sounds like the character using it is straining to access a new and unfamiliar power, in contrast to the effortless, overwhelming assertion of control it comes across as in the films.

Salusa Secundus looks so green and lush in comparison to how it looks at the time of the films.

I realize this is probably an unfair complaint for something made on a TV budget (even an HBO TV budget), but imo the production design doesn't quite measure up to the films. I think the best work is on the props. The key to the genetic index room, the little slides that Valya and Tula are looking at with students' info on them, the Emperor's projection table--those all look great and have that feeling of "future filtered through the past" that I think is key to the Dune aesthetic. Many of the location exteriors are gorgeous, too. Some of the interior sets are quite striking and others are underwhelming. The costumes are...mid imo; there are some beautiful elements and others that look too identifiably modern. Including Princess Ynez's red gown unfortunately which looks like a department store prom dress. I realize it's a high bar--the films were really really good at making everything look both futuristic and ancient, layered and textured--but you do notice the difference.

So! Many! Women! Pretty racially diverse casting too. But also omg so many characters and I already forget half their names. I'm gonna need Dune: Facebook for the next episode.

Emily Watson and Olivia Williams are already very compelling, even if you don't quite know their characters' full agendas yet. Heckin ready for some Machiavellian women scheming.

Love some of the more fucked up shit that just slides by and the information it gives you about the world. Adult (? idk maybe she's supposed to be in her late teens) woman getting engaged to a 9-year-old. Practicing Truthsaying on prisoners, some of whom have fresh bruises on their faces.

Arrakis is...the same. This one is honestly fucking me up. I know time scales in Dune are absurd and really kind of incomprehensible in comparison to real Earth history but can you imagine your home being passed around various imperialist powers for resource extraction for ten thousand years?? FOUR HUNDRED GENERATIONS. 80 years of Harkonnen rule seems like nothing. We're talking about whole eras of colonial control and resistance here. Like damn. No wonder so many Fremen have come to believe that only a messiah can save them. Imagine being someone like Chani and feeling the legacy of not decades or even centuries but millennia of struggle on your shoulders. It is gonna take me a while to fully absorb this one. Holy fuck.

Travis Fimmel's character has an...ability that we haven't seen in the Dune universe before and I'm super curious to see where they're gonna go with that.

Overall it feels like this episode was mostly setup but there's a lot of potential? Like there are a lot of potential threads that could develop into something cool and twisty and interesting. I'm not sure where any of it is going yet but I'm ready to find out.

[inkpot909]

Falling for an Oblivious Reader Headcanons

↳ Characters included are Johnny Joestar and Gyro Zeppeli. Gender neutral Reader with they/them pronouns.

A/n: Exploring these guys’ inability to spit it the hell out was extremely fun. What a couple of disaster men.

Warning(s): None.

Johnny Joestar

At first, he’ll wonder if he’s just out of practice.

Johnny’s never been interested in someone so oblivious they miss every little hint or flirtatious remark he throws their way. Having been a famous jockey, people used to flock to him; he hardly needed to even try.

But by the time of the Steel Ball Run, he hasn’t been with anyone romantically in a good while. He could count how many years since, but he would rather not keep track.

And you’re not exactly making things easy for him.

Going about your day looking the way you do… and then having the audacity to not pick up a single signal from him (Or anyone else for that matter). Honestly, it should be illegal.

Johnny’s natural instinct, unfortunately, is to immediately assume he’s not what’s clicking. Lord, am I… not being obvious enough? he often wonders.

It’d be one thing if you wanted to outright reject him; he can handle rejection (No, really, he can). It’s just the way the horse gallops sometimes.

But you don’t even seem to notice at all and that’s what’s so frustrating to him.

Just thinking of it can make annoyance fester inside his mind. Gyro throws him a knowing look whenever it’s visibly getting to him; to you it just seems like his mood spikes at random.

His annoyance isn’t directed at you, of course, but at himself (As much as he outwardly blames you, it’s really just a front).

Has he really lost his ‘skills?’ Did the passing years make him completely forget how to flirt with someone? Gyro seems really keen on telling him that’s the case.

And Johnny is nothing if not contrarian to everything Gyro says.

The guy is bending over backwards, doing anything he can do to try to impress you. All while Gryo is not-so-subtly ragging on him over it in the background.

“Quit it! For the love of God-“

“Awe, c’mon Johnny, it’s not like they’re noticing anyways!”

Johnny hates how right Gyro can be.

He’s metaphorically tripping over himself left and right, feeling like he’s at the same level of a clueless middle schooler desperately trying to seem ‘cool’ in front of a crush. Gyro’s damn near crying of laughter at his struggle to make you get it…

But all you do is just stand to the side. Smiling kindly, and blinking without an ounce of procession of his actual intent behind your pretty eyes.

Agony… Johnny Joestar is in pure agony… you’re lucky he finds you cute.

You’re so frustratingly oblivious he can’t even tell if you might like him back, and at this point he’s honestly just trying to get a read on your feelings before he spells it out for you bluntly.

Such an approach is needed with you, apparently.

It’s around this time too that he realizes… Holy shit, they’re really just that oblivious.

Someone else approached you at a bar during one of your numerous stops during the race. Both Johnny and Gyro knew exactly what they were getting at the moment they walked over, a sly smile presented on their face.

All while you sipped from your drink, your expression and tone of voice so casual one might assume you were simply discussing the weather.

Johnny isn’t ashamed to admit he felt a sense of pride as the person ultimately walked off, giving up.

Luckily for you, Johnny is not.

You’ve stolen his heart so completely without even trying… he can admit to himself it’s a beautiful thing- if he detaches himself from his own frustration.

He’s going to keep trying to get you notice; try to get a read on however you feel about him. Even if it takes him the entire Steel Ball Run to do so!

And, yes, it does take that long.

Gyro Zeppeli

So what, you didn’t notice the first time he winked at you? It was real sunny out that day- the light probably shined in your eye and made you miss it.

Whatever, if his first flirtation or two ultimately fell on deaf ears. Statistically speaking, not every line is going to land the way he wants.

Who cares if his apparent interest in you is obvious to literally every one other than you? It’s your loss, to be honest.

Not that he really cares.

And you know what? He doesn’t care so much he’ll snap at Johnny for bringing it up. He’s not bothered by it… so why does the guy feel the need to mention his failed attempts at showing interest? Really, it’s just a little annoying the jockey thinks it matters to him at all.

… it should go without saying that he does not handle the frustration well at all in the beginning.

He won’t necessarily blame himself.

He is aware of his own ability to flirt, and his past has granted him a sense of confidence in it. Gyro’s certainly the forward type, and knows that.

Yet, everything he says or does seems to go right over your pretty head. It’s a not a notion meant to flatter you either- one he keeps to himself with pouted lips and arms crossed.

It’s a rather childish anger directed towards you, but it doesn’t last too long.

Eventually, he also comes to the (Begrudging) conclusion that he really cannot blame you. Gyro realizes this around the same time he figures his liking of you goes far deeper than a casual fling.

And if anything, he’s going to start directing his frustration towards the people in your past.

Clearly, no one’s really hit on you before… or worse, something happened to you that made you think no one ever would- so thick-headed in that belief that you don’t even perceive it.

It’s in Gyro’s nature to let his mind ponder the ��why’ behind your obliviousness- especially when he thought he was being so obvious about it.

Either possibility makes him want to find whoever contributed to your inability to pick up a signal, grab them by the shoulders, and shake them violently.

But with time, he’s going to find it endearing (Not that he’s ever admit it out loud).

Look at you… riding your prized horse as if you’re not the most beautiful person in the Steel Ball Run. And the smirk doesn’t at all falter even when the three of you stop at a dingy town for the night.

“I’ve had three strangers walk up to me since we entered the saloon… the people in this town are so friendly!”

“Y/n, dear, they’re all trying to hit on you.”

“What? No way! They just wanted to talk about the race over a drink or two. One of them said they had gin from France up in his hotel room. Can you believe that? Sounds delicious, right?”

“… good lord, Y/n.”

It’d be funnier if he wasn’t another trying and failing to flirt his way into making you open your damn eyes.

At some point, Gyro just has to spit it out.

It comes during the climax of one of the race’s many stopping points. It’d been looming over his mind for weeks, and if someone were to ask him (Okay, if Johnny asks him) he would bitterly grumble that it’s been affecting his scores.

His logic behind doing this at specifically that point in time… flawless.

How are you going to blissfully remain in the dark if he’s shouting his confession at you from the finish line in front of a large group of confused onlookers?

They just wanted to see the race… not one of the top contestants with a heavy Italian accent declaring his love for you while damn-near standing on top of his horse.