#finally i feel like writing again

[sennik]

so, turns out the best cure for being depressed, overworked and uninspired really is working less, spending time with friends, and consuming media you actually like.

[astearisms]

fionna and cake drawings before and after watching the episodes so far. it’s nostalgic and somehow cathartic and poignant and relatable and—it just started

[whiskeyswifty]

my favorite choice ever at the very end of the black dog is when she whispers the final “screaming”. after literally screaming it the whole song, after she’s gone through all that grief and catharsis, you can hear her voice shake as it barely chokes out the word. And she’s so insistent the entire song that “old habits die screaming” like I will rage against you with my dying breaths! Loss and death and grief have made me angry and vengeful and you will feel the flames of my wrath!!! But in the end, after she goes through all the accusations and the blame and the vitriol and confusion and the cruelty and injustice of it all, she has no more fight left in her. she realizes in real time that this is what grief and letting go actually feels like, the summation of it all at the end. It’s perhaps in conversation with that TS Eliot poem: “This is how the world ends, not with a bang but with a whimper.” The journey through all of that sorrow and pain and grief and loss doesn't end in a blinding magnificent rage and it’s over, as much as she wanted it to, with indignation and vengeful pride. Instead, it’s a long drawn out suffering and when she finally gets to the end of her grief, it has drained everything from her. she may have the last word, but it'll be nothing more than a pitiful whisper.

[haveihitanerve]

Renewed Orphan Grief

Clark barely sees it coming. He doesn't even see the hit. Only sees the aftermath. Bruce crumbles. Hard and quick and final. There is a sudden stillness to the battlefield, a hush rippling over everyone, good and bad, villain and hero. The villain pauses, caught off guard. He hadn't expected it to work. He hadn't expected to kill- “BATMAN!!” the screams shatter the silence, cleaving across the battle like knives. Clark turns. Nightwing is barreling towards his fallen former mentor, hardly registering the people he flies over, legs moving in a blur. Red Robin is right behind him, hurtling for Batman as well, almost fast enough to rival a speedster. Robin himself is already there, pushing and pulling and tugging, demanding he “get up!” and “fight!” and “stop playing please father!” Clark cannot stand it. He turns, and sees that there are more than just three voices. “BATMAN!!” Spoiler, the purple demon Bruce had once called her, is running faster than he has ever seen a human, and he can already detect the salty scent of tears. “B!” Red Hood drops his guns, sprinting for the other Gotham hero, the man they all thought was his enemy. Another child appears at his side, silent, undetected, ‘orphan’ Clark’s brain supplies numbly. Batman’s shadow. There’s a sudden roar of defiance and someone new and yet old is there, red hair flowing, metal braces around her legs, a bright yellow bat proudly emblazoned on her chest. The Signal is at her side, and they collapse like alk the others at his side, pulling Robin away and begging, pleading, pushing their life into him, sobbing for him to just “get up, please.” and Clark can’t stand the voice cracks and the shaking sobs, can’t stand the numbness in Red Robin’s eyes and the lack of a smile on Nightwing’s face. The battle resumes, slowly, and suddenly the kids are awake again, tearing across the field like wraiths, ripping through anyone who gets in their way. Clark spots their final destination. The villain does too. He scrambles into his jet, screaming, “go go go!” But its too late. They converge, scrambling up the sides like spiders, nimble and fast and far too agile. There is a silence emanating off them that is unnatural, unheard of. Clark has felt grief before but nothing like the things he can feel wafting off of them, and J’onn falls to his knees, cradling his head in pain as the wave finally hits him. “Please!!!” The villain screams, and they cannot see him anymore, theres a solid wall of bodies between them and his voice. “Don’t kill me!!” At that, they finally pause. “You killed our father.” Nightwing says finally, voice echoing across the expanse. “He had a rule against killing.” Red Hood cracks his fingers. “He might have pleaded your case.” The children, as a whole, step closer. “He’s not here to do that anymore.” Clark covers his ears. 

[myokk]

🥺

[bratbarzal]

On My Side (NH13)

Pairing: Nico "I think the hockey gods were on my side" Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy

WC: 6k

part of the On Your Side universe

*This is a bonus chapter set after the ending of the overall fic, and can be read as a standalone if you haven't read the fic, but if you want to understand their dynamic and Poppy's personality a little more, you should!!!

Description: 18+ MDNI, Nico comes home to Poppy after scoring his first ever career hat-trick for the Devils. Way more fluff than smut but Nico is down bad as always.

A/N: You're all a bunch of enablers and that's all I have to say on the matter!!! Hope this fills the void while I continue to struggle with chapter ten lmao there is mention of Baby Cheeto in here but no spoilers for her name. Nico calls her Bug as a nickname, like _____-Bug, Chäferli (little bug) or just Bug for short, but it isn't her actual name. I can't use Cheeto forever lmao. I was literally trying to think of a title and remembered he said the words "on my side" WHAT IF I TOLD YOU HE'S A MASTERMIND he's an oys!truther if I ever saw one! Painfully obsessed with Poppy if you ask me. Also the way Cheeto would rock the heck out of this it's so cute I had to share

Nico Hischier likes to think he’s a patient man.

Finally scoring his first career hat-trick after 8 years in the NHL, after 476 games played with the Devils, would be the ultimate testament to that.

Doing so in the first ever game with his daughter in attendance - on home turf, his mother and Poppy holding her up in the family suite during warm-ups in her little Devils teddy sleeper that he can only just make out from down on the ice, but has his rampant heart beating out of his chest all the same - has him thinking that maybe, after all those years, after all those games, the stars had been aligning for him the whole time. 

And it was that sort of patience he had tried to tune into since the end of the second period, when he knew Poppy had left early to try skip traffic and get their little girl home safe for bed.

It’s what he tries to channel in the aftermath of the game, swarmed by reporters in the locker room, trying to remain polite and professional, not rushing them through their questions or giving half-assed answers - knowing he owes a lot more than that to the organisation that has allowed him to get this far. Trying to save just a speck of energy to give when he finally gets home, collapsing into the warm embrace of the girls he knows are waiting patiently for him.

It’s what he holds onto when he has to take a detour on his way home, dropping his mom off at her hotel and trying not to visibly squirm in his seat as she regales him with stories of how his daughter had captured the hearts of everyone she encountered, swallowing down the slight jealousy that he hadn’t been there to see it and clinging to the fact that he had his own success elsewhere in the night - success that played second fiddle in his own mother’s eyes to the experience of sharing her granddaughter’s first ever game with her, an experience he had to endure twice as she called his father from his car, deep chuckles ringing through the speakers as he tried to get a word in edge ways beyond her excitement.

It’s what has him shaking with anticipation as he almost skips down the hall to their apartment, mustering up the rest of his energy to walk into their home without the weight of the world on his shoulders, leaving any doubt, any insecurity, any lingering self-deprecation at the door so he can bask in this moment with the two hearts that are shaped entirely to fit him into them.

And it’s what has him shaking off whatever disappointment tries to creep in when he sees his little girl asleep in Poppy’s arms, knowing whatever tiny part of her he will ever get will always be enough - even if her big, glassy eyes aren’t looking up at him, even if he doesn’t come home to one of those heart-stopping beaming smiles she has started to give to him whenever he enters the room - her being here, sleeping safely in the arms of her beautiful mother, and him getting to come home to whatever version of them he can, is more than he could ever ask for.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the hat-trick hero.” Poppy’s soft voice carries to him as he makes his way over, dropping his bag on the floor and keys on the counter, heading straight to where she is now standing and pressing a kiss to her waiting lips. “Hi, handsome.”

“She didn’t wanna say goodnight to her daddy, huh?” He tries not to sound too dejected - he’s supposed to be on a high, after all - but after half an hour of his mother unintentionally bragging about all the attention she had been giving to her Gromi all night, he can’t help the slight sag of his shoulders - especially knowing that she’s going to be spending the morning with his mom tomorrow, too.

“Sorry, baby, we watched a little of you on the TV and then she got hangry,” Nico finds himself hypnotised by her still figure, enamoured with the way she exudes sheer calmness. The smile that creeps up on his lips seems to do so by muscle memory - a dopey kind of smile he’s probably had plastered on his face since she came into the world kicking and screaming 2 months ago, a smile permanently etched into his features from probably even before that. “I promise I tried to keep her up, she literally fell asleep on my boob.” Poppy whispers, watching with warm, glittery eyes as Nico takes in the sight of his two favourite people in front of him - Poppy already changed into one of his shirts, settled for the night, and his baby girl all cosy in her little teddy bear onesie, pacifier bobbing between her plush little lips.

“Look at her hat,” he pouts, running a finger along the folded seam of the way-too-big beanie Poppy has perched on top of her head, the knit fabric falling just short of her closed eyes. “That’s adorable.”

“Your mom put it on her before we left,” Poppy chuckles lightly, “Wanted to keep it on until you got home, we had to celebrate the hatty properly.” Her brows raise as if gesturing to the bill of the cap on her own head, one of his, he’s sure - no doubt stolen from their closet as soon as she got home.

“My little good luck charm,” he leans down to press a kiss to her cheek before he lifts himself back up and bends toward Poppy, “Gonna have to start coming to all the games.”

“I’ll let you break the news to her when she wakes up,” she hums as he presses his lips to hers, “She has a very low tolerance for everybody telling her to smile and getting all up in her space, been grouchy all night.”

“Just like Mami, huh, bug?”

“Oh, you think you’ve got jokes now?” Poppy scoffs as she steps back, ready to take their daughter to bed.  “Score your first hatty and you think you’re funny?”

“Always been funny, babe,” he smirks, flicking at the cap sat on her head before he takes it off, flipping it to place on top of his own and following her down the hall. “I’ll prove it to you when I get her first laugh.”

“She’ll be laughing at you, not with you.”

“Better than nothing.”

Nico sits on the edge of their bed as Poppy reaches into the crib to retrieve the sleeping bag in there before she lays it down beside him. He does the work unzipping and readying it for her to place their daughter inside while she rocks her still-sleeping body, and the two of them work in tandem to get her inside before zipping her back up, with Nico softly pulling the beanie from her head and watching her fluffy hair fan out in its absence. 

He runs a gentle hand over her head to smooth it down as Poppy lifts her, and leans into where she offers her up for a kiss before she puts her in the crib. Nico watches with a soft smile etched into his features, the familiarity of it all spreading warmth throughout his chest, his favourite part of every day being this - sharing a goodnight routine in the comfortable quiet, the two loves of his life safe and happy within arms reach.

None of it feels new or daunting anymore, just easy - and despite the constant warnings of it not always being this way, Nico just wants to feel it to its fullest extent; sheer happiness and serenity. 

Poppy returns to the front of him, and he instinctively spreads his legs to accommodate her, palms laying flat against his chest and his hands falling to her hips. She just looks at him for a good few seconds, eyes shimmering with admiration, lips tugged between teeth and a head tilted as her expression flickers into something more intense. 

Her hands travel down his arms, wordlessly, until she grasps at his wrists and pulls him to stand, leaning up to press a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth. “C’mon,” she whispers while her lips are still against his skin, “Wanna celebrate you.”

As if getting to come home to her isn’t celebration enough.

He follows her back through the hall with their hands clasped together, arms stretched between them so he can watch the hem of his shirt ride up against the backs of her soft thighs, and he starts to feel his throat go dry.

He thinks of all those mornings they would spend in the kitchen together in the summer, his shirts a little tighter around her pregnant belly, riding up against her curves and leaving very little to the imagination when she’d wear just his t-shirt and nothing else.

She’s wearing panties now, he can tell, could see the bottom of them peaking out when she’d leaned over to put their daughter in her crib. But he doesn’t mind inching them off, quite likes the slow pace of unwrapping her like a gift - a well-deserved present for all his hard efforts on the ice.

It’s where his fingers find themselves almost immediately when she stops just short of the couch, spinning and practically launching herself into his waiting arms. He can’t help but chuckle as they collide, large arms wrapping around her frame as she melts into him, hands gripping either side of his jaw to pull him down in a clash of teeth and tongues. He palms at her ass as she presses her hips forward, fingers slipping under the hem of her panties and wriggling under them until his knuckles are covered by the fabric, squeezing at the flesh until she groans into his open mouth. 

He feels deft fingers working between them to rid him of his own clothes, clumsily popping open the buttons of his jacket before working their way up his chest, slipping into the arms and helping him shrug it off. The weight of it drops to the floor with a heavy thud, and when her hands return to his chest for the next item of clothing to be removed, she pushes him back with an exaggerated huff.

“Baby, how many layers do you need?”

“You in some kind of rush, or something?” He chuckles, chasing her lips with a crane of his neck, getting a quick kiss in before she pushes him back again with palms laid flat on his broad chest.

“Your daughter has some sort of radar for when we’re within 2 inches of each other,” she says as her hands slide down, the feel of them through the extra layers he has on still present as she travels past the hard ridges of his abdomen. She grasps tight at the bottom of his hoody, and he lends a hand to tugging it up and over his head, throwing that to the floor, too. “We gotta get a move on before she wakes up,”

“My daughter?” He scoffs, removing his undershirt while she’s distracted, relishing the feeling of a heavy gaze on his chest once it’s fully revealed to her hungry eyes. “She’s really given you such a hard time that you’re disowning her?”

“She isn’t letting me have a hard time at all, that’s the problem.” Her hands reach back out seemingly of their own volition, fingers fanning out across his skin as her stare glides down, the weight of it sliding down his skin to the point he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. 

“That was weak for you.” He teases.

“I’m out of practice,” she pouts, closing the distance once more and pressing her lips to the slightly stubbled skin of his jaw, nipping at the flesh as her ministrations travel across his features, his jaw, his neck, the spot just below his ear, where she mutters, “Wanna show you how proud I am of you,”

“Oh yeah?” He asks as she works at the button of his pants, pushing until they pool at his feet and he can kick them off.

“Mmhm,” she moves her kisses back to his waiting lips, “Been waiting to get my hands on you all night.”

“Been waiting to get my hands on you all day,” he mutters back, bending to lift her with hands gripping her ass, “Been thinking about you teasing me in the kitchen this morning,” he starts heading for the couch, mind spinning as she continues kissing him - thinking of all the plans she had been making for the two of them while his mom takes Little Bug out in the morning, finally giving them some much needed, uninterrupted time to themselves. Plans of wasting the morning away between the sheets, sharing showers, having no responsibilities other than paying attention to one another. “Thinking about having you all to myself tomorrow."

“You gonna let me give you a preview?” 

He chuckles as he falls back onto the couch, all grace thrown out the window as they sink into the cushions, her still holding onto him and now straddling his lap, lips stretched into a blissful smile as he looks up at her.

She presses them straight to his, and he can’t bring himself to mind the way their teeth clash at her eagerness, hips grinding down onto his as she settles onto her knees.

He could spend forever kissing her like this, sensual and sloppy, the slight scratch of her nails against the sides of his neck and his grip on her thighs guiding her movements straight onto the aching growth between his legs.

He bucks up to meet her, and their lips part with a wet smack as she groans. 

"Bet you can’t wait for me to shave, eh?” he smiles as he swipes a thumb across the space between her nose and lip, the skin red raw from the scratch of his moustache.

“You know damn well I’d ban you from ever touching a razor again if I could.” She says, breathlessly, slowly thrusting down onto him.

“Tell that to your little red muzzy, you’re giving Luke a run for his money,”

“Hey,” she swats at his chest in feigned outrage, “The kid tried his best!” 

“No more talk about Hughes when you’re sat on my lap,”

“You brought him up!”

“Thought I was getting a preview,” he groans as he shuffles, reaching between them to slip a hand between her legs, tucking his fingers beneath her panties and swiping against her heat. “Jesus, Poppy.”

“Told you I’ve been thinking about you all night,” she pecks at his lips again, raising her hips a little to give him further access to slide his fingers through the almost excessive wetness that’s near enough soaked through her panties. 

He prods at her entrance, two fingers slipping straight in until she’s gasping against his cheek in sheer bliss. His digits move with ease, working his way up to his knuckles as he drinks up her pleasured moans, his chin tilting until their open mouths just press together without kissing, panting against one another as he works her up. 

He pushes the fabric of his shirt up her thighs with his other hand, exposing his handiwork to hungry eyes so he can see the way she glistens between her legs - can see the way his fingers slide in an out of her.

She takes his shirt off, throwing it beside them on the couch so she can see too, looking down for only a moment before she’s throwing her head back.

He’s so hard just watching her that it’s almost painful - straining against the seams of his briefs until they’re tenting beneath her. And she must notice, nimble fingers working him out until he’s thick and hot and heavy in her palm, gripping around him in with her thumb swiping at his tip, hips shuffling until his fingers slip out of her heat and she can move on her knees to hover above his waiting cock. 

He takes a hold of himself while her hands raise to steady herself on his shoulders, and he waits with bated breath as she lowers herself, sinking past her entrance until he’s sheathed entirely, tight, wet walls wrapped around him in a long-awaited embrace.

Their moans fall out in sync, both of them stilling, the only movements between them being the soft rise and fall of panting chests. 

It’s a minute before she starts to rock her hips, leaning back down to distract herself from whatever unease needs to fade away with the press of her lips to his - tongue swiping at his, sucking and nipping at the muscle as she works herself to the point where she can lift herself up a little.

“Fuck me,” he whines out in an elongated groan as she sinks down on him again, tight and slick and warm, and he feels tension in every cell in his body, strung taut to the point where he feels like he could snap entirely in any given moment.

“I’m working on it,” she pouts, “Think I overestimated my talents here,”

“Think you’re very talented,” he hums, pressing a kiss to her jaw as he lays large hands on the dip of her waist, fingers tickling into the arch of her back so her movements are a little smoother, a little more fluid. “So good to me, yeah? Just need a hand.”

He guides her hips into a steady rhythm - up, down, forward, back - until she’s rocking onto him in a mind numbing pace. 

God, he thinks, this is heaven.

It’s been so long since he’s had her like this. Probably all the way back in Switzerland in the summer, and he thinks a lot about this situation mirrors that - trying to stay quiet, trying to feel as much of each other as they possibly can without drawing attention from sleeping parties one room over. 

He remembers thinking, all those months ago, that it wouldn’t be possible to love Poppy any more than he did, then - that he couldn’t possibly feel more for her than he did when he shared that part of his world, and she had embraced it with open arms. She had blended straight into his family, had adapted herself to his routine, had brought new life and colour to what he had always considered vibrant, anyway, but she had changed the meaning of it all.

But she had done the same to life in Jersey. 

Long gone were any feelings of homesickness he used to get - especially around this time of the year. Fully immersed now into his season, summer seeming too far from his reach that he started to forget what home felt like. But not anymore.

Home is Poppy. Home is their baby girl sleeping soundly in the next room. It’s playing one of the greatest games of his career so far, meeting milestones he had been reaching for for so long, standing in the centre of the arena he has built his career in, hearing the rapturous cheers of fans chanting his name, and driving back knowing the love garnered there could never possibly compare to the love waiting for him in his apartment.

He brings her face down with a palm splayed gently across her jaw, fingers reaching back to tickle at the nape of her neck and thumb swiping tenderly at her soft cheekbone, until their mouths collide. He shifts his hips to meet her ministrations, finding a rhythm that has her gasping into his mouth, enough that his tongue can slip past the seam of her lips and press against hers - hot and fervid and eager.

He wonders as the pressure builds if this passion will ever wither. If this need to profess his love for her will ever wain away, if he’ll ever be casual about the way in which she has become the entire centre of his universe.

He hopes not. 

He hopes when he’s 80, he looks over at her and his heart still hammers in his chest. He hopes his mouth struggles to make sense of all the ways in which his brain tries to convey what she means to him - hopes he still stutters around his sentences and feels weak to the very base of his spine at the mere thought of her. 

In fact, he doesn’t hope at all.

He knows he will.

“You feel so good,” Poppy mutters into his mouth, panting against his swollen lips, “I’ve missed this so much.”

“Yeah?” He thrusts up, “You missed being full of me?”

He’s missed this far out look in her eyes, glassed over and almost gone as she nods in response - they haven’t really been able to get to this stage with their quick fumbles and rushed hookups in the last 2 weeks since she got the all clear from her doctor for them to start being intimate again. Sure, they had developed other methods over those first 6 weeks, making good use of hands and mouths in whatever limited time they could find together, but nothing compares to this.

To being attached at every point like they are one.

“You gonna come for me?”

He still remembers her tells, fluttering lashes, trembling thighs, stuttered breaths all combined with the spine tingling way in which she tightens around him, and he manages to time it so they come together, one final burst of energy used to lift his hips just as she sinks down, body slumping into tremors that wrack through the both of them.

He holds her in place for a second, large hands pushing his shirt up her back as he starts to rub circles into her flesh, soothing her back into a softened consciousness - hazy and frazzled but still in tune with every movement he makes. 

Her nose presses into the expanse of his neck, lips pecking at all the sensitive spots she can seek out as they both try to catch their breaths - and he realises she was probably right before, they haven’t had time like this for a while now. 

Still, he’ll take what he can get.

She lifts her hips just enough for him to slip out, and reaches to the small table at the side of the couch where she has miraculously stashed a pack of baby wipes. She takes two out, using one to clean the both of them before she bundles it into the clean one and discards of it back onto the table to be disposed when she eventually gets the feeling back in her legs.

And it’s as soon as Poppy’s legs give way and she collapses into him that they both hear it - a soft wail carrying through the monitor behind the couch. Cries filling the space around them and bursting their bubble with an almighty pop!

“Told you,” Poppy mumbles into his neck, skin sticky with a soft sheen of sweat. “Won’t even let me get a hatty of my own,”

Nico scoffs, snorting out a loud chuckle that shakes where she rests on his chest, and despite her feigned irritation, she feels her cheeks puff out into a soft, unbreakable grin. “Like you’d have lasted 3 rounds.”

“What happened to me being very talented?” She pouts, mustering whatever strength she has left to push herself up, swinging a leg back over and moving to stand, only for him to grasp back at her, pulling her until her back falls into the plush of the couch.

“Talented, Poppy, not super human,” he chuckles, standing from the cushions and tucking himself back into his briefs. “I’ve got her.”

“It’s probably wind, I changed and fed her before she went down.”

He presses one last kiss to Poppy’s head before heavy feet carry him down the hall toward their bedroom, where their daughter’s crib is temporarily positioned until she starts to sleep a little further through the night. He doesn’t bother flicking the light on as he enters, able to follow his muscle memory straight over to where she is without tripping over his own feet, and he lifts her as soon as he can, cooing at her as she cries into his chest.

“I’ve got you, Chäferli,” he mutters as he rocks her gently, large hand completely encompassing where he can feel her back through her sleeping bag. “Daddy’s here,”

He reaches over to shut off the monitor before he ambles over to his and Poppy’s bed, sitting with his daughter still clutched to his chest, little hiccups coming out as his hand tries to work up her wind. 

“Got yourself all worked up, huh?” He asks, so deep into his routine of talking to her about anything and everything that he no longer second guesses it. “My little bug, you’re okay.”

It takes a good few minutes to calm her down, to the point that Nico thinks she might even be hungry and he’ll have to call Poppy in, wiggling a finger between her lips to see if she latches on, but he continues to pat and rub at her back until she burps, and her cries turn into little coos, that turn into soft pants with wide, sparkling eyes staring up at him in wonder. 

He looks down at her in the same way, dark eyes flitting across her every feature. Across the soft but thick head of hair, the crazy long eyelashes, the puffy lips and the little button nose. 

She looks so much like Poppy that he feels his chest ache every time he looks at her - but it’s a good kind of ache, a longing and content kind of ache, that only aches to remind him of everything he stands to lose if he doesn’t work hard enough to keep it.

“Gromi told me you were charming everybody at daddy’s work,” he tells her with a soft smile, the pad of his finger pressing at the tip of her nose. “Says she’s gonna have to show you off around the city on her own tomorrow.”

Tiny fingers reach up to clasp around his, holding on and clutching with a grip he’s sure wasn’t so firm that morning when he had said his goodbyes. 

“Careful, bug,” he tells her, “You hold Papi’s hand too long and he won’t let you go.”

Wide eyes gleam back at him, and he watches in awe as they start to crinkle in the corners. 

He becomes all too aware of the hammering of his heart, and lays her beside him on the bed in fears that the echoing thud of it beating against his chest might disturb her. He curls up beside her, making sure she’s flat as he gets himself comfortable, and just lays there for a good few minutes, watching her as she watches him.

There isn’t a feeling in the world that compares to this, he thinks. He could score a hundred hat-tricks, have a million people chanting his name, and it won’t come close to how adored he feels in this moment, how proud he feels to have played any part in making a little human so perfect and beautiful.

He leans forward, kissing softly at her puffy cheek, careful not to press too hard that she feels the scratch of his moustache, and he relishes the little squeal of what he hopes is delight she gives in return. 

Poppy gives it 20 minutes before she decides to venture through to their bedroom, having cleaned up and busied herself sterilising bottles so they’re ready for Katja to come pick up in the morning. It’s been a rare occurrence lately that Nico has had his one-on-one time with their daughter, him being so busy with training and their trip to Florida - and he wouldn’t say it, wouldn’t fess up to the ways in which it gets him down, but she knows he feels like he’s missing a lot. 

She changes so much day to day - discovers so much about the world around her - and as much as Poppy tries to save things for him to see on his own, tries to find the balance between sharing the little moments she gets with him and letting him experience them for himself, she knows there’s nothing she can do to keep that nagging voice at bay.

He’s always been that way, unable to completely silence the thoughts that tell him no matter what he does, it isn’t enough. 

He’d even done it tonight - his first career hat-trick, him being the first Swiss-born player to score a natural hat-trick, a stadium filled with fans chanting his name, dominating a team the Devils hadn’t beat at home in close to 10 years - and it hadn’t been his best performance. 

She would gladly spend the rest of her life convincing him he’s good enough, she thinks. 

Her and their little Bug being the ones who get to welcome him home after a night like tonight? She doesn’t know what she did in a past life to get the Gods on her side like this, but she’d do it again a thousand times over.

As her feet pad softly down the hall toward their room, she listens out for the soft voice she usually has the pleasure of eavesdropping on when she thinks he doesn’t know she’s hovering on the other side of the door. A soft voice that tells their little girl exaggerated stories from his day about her uncles, about his games, about whatever he got up to while he was away and what he brought back for her from his travels. But this time, it’s quiet - the peaceful kind of quiet that wraps around her like a blanket, tranquil and warming as she pushes the door open and steps into the room.

Nico is curled up on his side of the bed, on top of the covers, and his arm is draped gently over their daughter’s sleeping bag, their faces inches apart as soft snores fall from their parted lips. She inches closer as quiet as she can manage, leaning over them and taking in their similar profiles - the gentle slope of their mirrored noses, dark lashes framing closed eyes that are turning darker to match her daddy’s day by day.

If anyone had told the Poppy of last November that this is where she would be now - that this is where she’d be with Nico - she never in a million years would have believed it. 

He has transformed her life in such little time that she can barely remember the before. Can barely remember a night she fell asleep in any other bed, by any other side, or woke up to anyone else. Can barely remember feeling anything close to this kind of happiness, this kind of content.

It’s like he’s introduced her to a whole new level of feelings. Ones she struggles to describe, like there’s no word in the English language that could possibly convey what he means to her.

Maybe his language has a word for it. Something that she’s never heard before, but just sounds right. Like she knew it somewhere much deeper than her brain allowed her access. She’ll have to ask him, tomorrow - when they finally have a morning to themselves and she can work up the energy to crawl out from under the sheets with him.

A part of her wishes she could take a snapshot of this moment - could send it back in time to the Poppy who never thought this kind of life would ever find her. The Poppy who was drifting, coasting, floating, afraid of landing on her own two feet and having to drag them for the rest of time through unfamiliar territories. The Poppy who pushed down her ever expanding adoration for the man currently cuddled up to their entire life in the bed they share, who convinced herself he could never possibly feel the same way, and wasted years of her life when she could have had this.

But another part of her thinks, what’s the point?

She has him, now. 

She’ll have him forever.

She allows herself to watch for a minute as they take deep breaths in sync, all the post-game tension in Nico’s body long melted away, before she quietly shuffles over to the bathroom to get herself ready for bed. 

She manages to make her way back over in the dark without stumbling, by some miracle, and reaches over to pick her baby girl up without interrupting her sleep, standing beside her crib and rocking her a little just to make sure she’s still fully drifted off - relishing the feeling of soft puffs of air falling into her neck as she cradles her.

Nico must wake at the loss of contact, instincts kicking in immediately when he can no longer feel the little body that had been resting under his protective arm, and when Poppy looks back over, she can see the reflective glint in his eyes as he watches her - soft and adoring and tooth-achingly sweet. 

Instead of putting her down, she bounces gently on her feet back over to Nico’s side of the bed, sitting beside him as he shuffles up, and the two of them just watch their daughter as she sleeps. 

For all the times they have been warned that this bliss is temporary, that it’s just a phase, Poppy can’t see it ending for as long as Nico looks at her like this. Like he has the entire world sat in front of him. 

“She was smiling at me before,” he whispers as he repositions himself, legs spread so that Poppy can sit between them. “Was trying to get her to calm down, and she was just looking straight at me with those big sparkly eyes and she smiled right at me.”

“She was doing it a little when we got home, earlier.” Poppy whispers back, hoping he doesn’t mind her raining on his parade a little to tell this story, “We just caught your interview on TV after the game, and there was this close up of you, and she smiled so big, Nico. She never smiles like that for anybody.”

“That’s ‘cause you snitch on her and tell everyone it’s gas.”

“I don’t want anyone else thinking they’re special.”

“But I am?” He asks, reaching to swipe the back of his finger softly against her cheek, the soft moonlight sifting into the room reflecting off of the ring on his finger, the quick glimmer enough to catch Poppy’s eye, to distract her so much that she can only hum in response, lips curving into a tender smile. 

“Yeah,” she breathes, the tranquility of the room a stark contrast to the way her heart erupts into thunderous applause for him - akin to that of the stadium full of fans earlier that night. Thousands of voices chanting his name, singing his praises, cheering him on for all the glory he brought to their night. He brings that to Poppy, tenfold, every day. “You’re really special.”

He leans over their sleeping daughter to press a loving kiss to Poppy’s lips, careful not to disturb the little angel between them, and Poppy kisses him straight back, fervent but fleeting.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” she mutters into his mouth, careful not to invest too much of herself into another moment they’ll swiftly get interrupted from. 

“You gonna show me in the morning?” He mumbles back, their lips still touching, noses pressed together, his hand still cradling her face. She nods, and he feels her cheeks round into his palm. “Gonna give me that hatty you promised?”

“Gonna give you whatever you want.”

“Another baby, Frau?”

She scoffs, swallowing down the fizzing feeling at the back of her throat the nickname. 

“Ask me again after your next hat-trick.” 

[psychomusic]

oc time again! + her town & culture (heavily inspired by pre-roman italic populations)

she is suri sauthon (she/her). her story is linked to my swtor imperial agent, tar'x, but most of her life except for the one year away where she meets him, is spent in a town in the mountains of mirial.

despite mirial being cold and desert, and many cities developing underground, her town flourishes thanks to a force nexus, venerated in the form of an ancient, sacred, alive crystal. the ecosystem of that mountain depended on what "the horned crystal" was capable of giving them, but mirialans couldn't live off of that alone, so they developed trade and some rudimental technology, even if oftentimes it was bought thanks to the highly profitable trade of a plant used to make medicines that slowed down aging and had overall healing properties.

note: everything that's generated by this nexus has these healing properties BUT they have to be processed, except for those who bathed in the waters of the cavity under the crystal - the "real" nexus, but not the worshipped one. the waters were sacred but they were not thought to be miraculous, unlike the crystal, who instead was thought of as the keystone of the ecosystem: without it, everything would fall apart (and that is partially true: the cavity was the "real" nexus but thanks to the crystal, also strong in the force, the properties were spread all over the mountains). those who bathed in the cavity's waters - so, all of the town, who had a sort of baptism there - could eat the plant, make whatever food with it, and not only that plant, but everything generated by the nexus, that, again, had similar properties. this allowed people to live up to normal life-spans without advanced medicines or, much, really. to those who didn't live there, though, after the processing, had incredible effects, slowing down aging - for those who took it regularly - and making people able to live up to half a century more than the average]

originally, there were four tribes of nomads that lived thanks to horned farm animals that decided to settle down into one bigger town and other smaller settlements, to live off of transhumance. this division of the tribes stayed into the political and social organization: every person belonged to one tribe specifically, and had slightly different rituals and culture. for examples, each tribe had their own priests and healers, with different techniques and traditions. the town, tho, was guided by a group of people in the high priesthood, a position you could reach only by having earned the trust of all tribes. those high priests had many roles: they guided the people into sacred processions common to all the tribes, they managed the trading with outsiders, they did the maintenance of the temple of the summit (the one that functioned as casket to the crystal) and created a special liquid to offer the crystal that helps it grow.

this particular temple was important because 1. it was very visible, from every angle of the town, and it became an important identity symbol; 2. it stored the venerated horned crystal; 3. it had the altar where sacrifices were made for the crystals. that altar had a hole connected to the cavity, that allowed the liquids to reach the underground; 4. it had various symbols: statues representing each tribe + the high priesthood, and typical mirialan tattoos carved into the wood of the trees that served as columns for the temple, symbolizing 8 values that who dared to enter HAD to have; 5. it was on the way to an important lake (called "mother lake" because the lake the town was built around to depended on the waters of that other lake) where they traveled to in important processions; 6. it was said that a the wizard who unified the tribes made it with its magic, making the plant grow to hold the temple's roof. this wizard was, actually, a force user, obv.

BACK TO HER THOUGH: she's daughter of one of the high priests, who was in charge of managing the trades with outsiders, and lives in a house on the mountains with her mother and him. her parents are from different tribes (that's one of the things that earned him trust from the 4 tribes): when a child is born from two different tribes, they don't pick one to allign to, but they're usually linked automatically to the one with more relatives in it (in her case, the father's tribe: she had many uncles and aunts on his side while her mom only had one sister).

later, though, she got quite tied to her mother's tribe due to a mysterious illness that only her mother's tribe healer was able to cure. she spent 4 years (from 10 to 14 years old) living with the healer and learned her secrets. to better study, she wrote them down. when she returned home, she studied to become a priestess with her father. at 22 (the average age: you can't become priest before your 20s), she was supposed to take a test and become a priestess, but the healer of her mother's tribe died and the tribe asked her to take her place. she couldn't technically do that, but both tribes estimated both her and her parents and she was allowed to become both. she then decided to try to become a high priestess, and became one at 25 (a quite young age). being part of the council, she tried to convince the various tribe healers to unite their knowledges and write them down, and eventually made it. healers still remained tribe based but they now had an "upper, inter-tribe level" similar to high priesthood.

years later, the sacred horned crystal is stolen from the temple by some Hutt mercenaries looking for a profit. given the trust she has earned from all the tribes and the fact that her father is the high priest that deals with outsiders (and she's been hearing stories and advice about it since she was little), she is the one tasked with getting it back. without the growing crystal, the keystone to their ecosystem, the village would have lasted only a few years. in hrr quest, she meets imperial intelligence agent tar'x laran and, as they "solve the mystery" and fight to have it back, they get closer. they'll get married and have a daughter, Vegoia (who's the only one who actually will get to the plot of my story. this was all background)

[bayetea]

I think it's really annoying that leo has completely falsified memories of jason too and this is barely acknowledged in the books

[l-in-the-light]

Trafalgar Law and shreds of closeness part 3: Donquixote Family Edition

What can I say, I got struck with inspiration yet again, the thoughts just do not want to leave me. This time it will get dark. And it will hurt, so feel warned. I will take a closer look at Law's closeness to the Donquixote Family and also do a small case study of affection between Doffy and Cora and their dad as well, to get a fuller context. Main focus will be on physical affection, yet again.

So what do you think, did Law get support and affection from his "second family"? I would say, very little. But let's look at evidence:

We have verbal support from Doflamingo himself when Giolla and Buffalo start to fear to touch Law or to even stay in the same room after they learn he's sick. That's 1:0 for him, I'm sure Law appreciated and remembered it. In retrospection, it would have been better for him if he didn't.

Then we have Giolla and Machvise who handled him like he's an object. Giolla keeps touching Law on the head, probably not caring why he seems displeased with it. She's just reinforcing the trauma, but I think overall she means well, she just doesn't think much about it. Giolla also shows Law the most physical affection and I swear it feels like she's trying to make up for her initial reaction, she's just not going the right way about it, making it worse instead.

Meanwhile we have Doflamingo, who despite defending Law before, never touches him. And I mean, never ever. Doffy remains cold not only with Law though, which we will see in a moment.

And then we have Baby5. She feels sorry for Law and even cried for him when she heard the story of Flevance (not in Law's presence tho), but she herself is bad with affection and care, because she also never received much, it also doesn't help that she is genuinely scared of Law's angry glares. All she can do to show him she cares is to smack and scold him. And of course when she does smack him it's on the head, which only becomes a trauma trigger over and over again. Those two just completely miss each other by a mile.

That's it. No other Donquixote Family's member ever tried to show some care in front of Law. They train him of course, but would you count kicking and punching him as a positive experience? Yeah, I don't think so.

And let's not forget Corazon, who carried Law like a bag of potatoes (and threw him around) for a long time, even after he kidnapped him. The Trip to Hospitals All Around the World kinda made him become better, holding Law close, trying to make him smile, carrying him all the time and at one point he even begs Law: "please give me the chance to do things right, stay strong for 3 more weeks!". Doesn't change the fact the touches he did give Law at the beginning were brutalized forms of affection, and we can't really forget that fact: that's exactly how Law's trauma of being touched on the head even started in the first place.

He already trained for awhile, but he still failed in the confrontation, and I think it was because of the touch. Being pinned down made Law probably freeze and unable to move. But even after being saved by Doflamingo, Law doesn't even try to seek support in him, unlike Baby5. Here we can see Doflamingo is alright if someone seeks comfort in him, but he will not give it by himself. That makes Doflamingo-Law combo the worst possible match up, a person who will never give it first and a person who will never ask for it, no wonder things were always cold between them.

Thanks to the fight against Smoker in Punk Hazard we learn that Law managed to overcome his trauma of being pinned down to a significant degree, because he manages to escape on his own. This scene gets an extra focus in the manga (it takes like 5 different frames!) which further convinces me it's that siginifcant. Law probably trained himself not to get overwhelmed like that ever again. Still, I can't help but notice soon after this happened Law starts to have troubles breathing, which means it still didn't leave him unaffected. He pushes to finish the fight faster afterwards as well.

One of his trauma triggers is feeling helpless and being pinned down definitely counts for that. I don't think this started with Vergo, I would say it was already a thing after Flevance, when he had to discover more and more dead bodies of people dearest to him, unable to do anything about it.

Let's look at his symptoms thanks to which we can recognize he's going through a triggering situation. Visible shivering, heavy panting (to the point of weezing which makes me think it can even go as far as bordering on hyperventilation or the opposite - apnea). And then in the last image he just goes stiff which I interpret as him completely freezing up. Damn, that's actually a lot. It's very similar to Robin's trauma responses in Water 7.

You can also notice that Law clenches his fists and it seems to be a sign that he's struggling or forcing himself to be strong. He still does it *a lot* when he's an adult. I think it might have honestly became a habit. He does that just before a battle, in most stressful situations when he knows he can't show his emotions (or just doesn't want to), and well, if we go by the anime version, also when he leaves Wano with his own crew. Basically any time he makes a firm resolve or a hard decision, he also does that. I swear sometimes it feels like he struggles for half of the Dressrosa and Punk Hazard, which you know what, might be way too accurate.

Also bonus wholesome points for Luffy caring more to support Law and Muucy than caring for falling into water himself. I'm not sure how much that helped Law when he was dealing with a triggering situation, especially that unfortunate contact with the top of his head. I guess it's still better than similar situation but with Law completely alone.

This puts this scene into a completely new perspective, right? He's shivering here and definitely froze up, even his speech bubble looks distressed. He's not getting angry here, his trauma trigger kicked in. I did check if he ever shivers or freezes up when he tries to, for example, stop himself from feeling angry, but no, we never see that happen. I'm sorry for ruining the comedy :( tho to make it better, he's also shocked, because just moments before Strawhats feared him, and now they already don't and even laugh at him. Damn, I'm now so torn about this scene, I mean, Strawhats couldn't have known!

Now a promised closer look at Donquixote family's approach to closeness and touch. When they were still Celestial Dragons, they barely touched each other. No small touches on the back, hand holding or anything else you usually share with kids. The closeness starts only after they're all starting to be persecuted. First time we see Doffy holding his mom's hand is when they run away from their burning house. First time we are shown Homing hugging his kids is when village people are beating them up and he is just trying to cover them with his own body, so he takes the beating instead of his kids.

The last memory Rosinante has of his father is the hug. And the first memory he has of Sengoku is also a sort of half-hug. Might be why he got so attached to him.

Little Doflamingo and Rosinante are always together, but they never touch in any way. It's clearly Doffy who takes care of his younger brother, probably also telling him to toughen up.

Weird mocking touch on the head from Trebol. And like always, no one ever touches Doflamingo, not even his own officers, and that's true ever since Doffy was a child.

He even tells Trebol he's too close. Doffy doesn't want touches anymore, because it seems in his mind he understands them as someone protecting him, and he doesn't need protection. Ever since he killed Homing, Doffy took the role of being a head of the family and protecting Rosinante, so no more hugs or hand holding for him. In other words, Doflamingo associates physical affection with protection and incoming abuse. And whenever he touches someone it's exactly for that reason: to hurt them.

An interesting parallel because this happens in exactly same chapter: Law is trying to move away because Luffy's "too close". He even lets him take the transponder away and just stands there and waits. And you might wonder: what for? Is he hoping Luffy will give it back by himself?

No, it just took some extra time for Law to brace himself to touch Luffy and shove him to the side. Even though both Doffy's and Law's first instinct here is to move away, Law is struggling but actually tries to overcome it, contrary to Doffy, who seems content in his "no touching" comfort zone.

Let's take a look at Dressrosa now. Doffy is carrying Law by his clothes, Law is unconscious, but he will not touch him directly anyway. Cora-san used to do it as well at first to Law.

But then, you might ask, they fought so much in Dressrosa, surely some kind of touch had to happen as a result? I mean, most of them were indirect touches with Doffy's strings, kicking Law or stopping him by grabbing his sword. But you are right, exactly two touches do happen. You're not gonna like it.

This is literally the first time Doflamingo ever touched Law. To stop his attack he forcefully grabbed his hand. Law is shivering, this actually triggers him, and there's just no way Doflamingo doesn't know that, he can feel it.

And then he makes the full use of the situation. Doflamingo holds Law up in the air, but we can see by the onomatopeia that he's literally holding him up by his hand alone and Law is just freely dangling there, Doffy's not using any strings to immobilize him, not even armament haki. He doesn't even need to. Finally he gave Law the touch he must have been craving when he was a child from him, but it's not a caring one, and what's the next thing Doflamingo does to that hand he just touched? He cuts it off, ripping open the psychological wounds, making them deeper, perhaps hoping Law will never recover from them. Because that's the easiest way to control him later if he wishes to do so, to make him pliant, defenseless and unable to fight back and terrified. But also to punish him for the "rebellion" against him... but also to punish Law for his need and fear of touch. This is a lesson: never want affection, closeness or touch, you're never getting any. Unless it's this: abuse. And if you don't think this is terrible enough, let me remind you: this is their first touch *ever*, Law probably waited for it when he was a kid.

And Law is just hanging there, not even trying to move, and it lasts for like three or four pages long, and I remember when I reread this a couple of times, I was a bit puzzled. Why isn't Law struggling to release himself? Why is he just letting this happen? Especially when it's becoming very clear what Doflamingo is gonna do next. So I have my answer: Law froze up, it's his body shutting off on it's own and all he can do is to just be there and wait for it to be over. It's painful, because we know Law always struggles, always fights back, and he tries here, with words, but he can't do anything else and he just watches it happen.

And this is the second time Doflamingo touches him. It's after the Gamma Knife attack, Doffy knows what he's doing here, he chooses to make contact with Law's head/face (he must have noticed Law's discomfort to it before when Giolla often did it to Law as a kid, and now he utilized this knowledge). He tries to make Law freeze up so he can't finish his move and who knows, maybe that was the final factor of why Law failed to kill off Doflamingo.

To wrap things up, I will share the interesting parallel that I think can be drawn between two rather unexpected characters: Law and Boa.

Both Law and Boa are most comfortable around Bepo (and the snake in Boa's case). Both are victims of brutalized touch and lack of loving and caring one. But while Law fearfully accepts what's given to him, Boa rejects it (even symbolically by kicking fluffy animals away or refusing any show of affection like gifts). Both are touch starved, but Boa will never even try to touch Luffy, and the only time Luffy touched her was in that stealth mission in Impel Down (they didn't have the choice) and hugging her after she gave him the key to Ace's cuffs. Boa doesn't return the gesture, she is very flustered and falls to the ground afterwards, which reminds me a little of her later scene with Rayleigh. Not even Boa's own sisters are shown to share any sort of physical affection with her, Boa shows cold and manipulative attitude to almost everyone besides them. The only other person Boa ever touched was Rayleigh (she's on the ground here again) after he helped them fight off Blackbeard's assault on Amazon Lily and it might be a traumatic response: Blackbeard tried to strangle her after all. Boa's love is passionate and platonic, she shows her affection and caring with indirect gestures (food preparation, offering support and help etc.), probably because that's what she remembers others tried doing for her before. She can't even deal with intimacy face to face and Law also tends to act cold to very open displays of affection and emotions.

Big thanks to @tae-rambles for mentioning the scene with Boa that completely slipped my mind <3 added it in the edit!

[shannonsketches]

Why is the anime so weird, it's not even the same series dude?? It's like,

Anime:

GOKU: I have a great idea to bring peace to the universe, and my leadership and compassion alone will unite us all. I have No Flaws and am A True Relatable Everyman :)

VEGETA: NO! I AM THE BEST AND I WILL CAUSE PROBLEMS UNTIL I AM RECOGNIZED AS SUCH!!!!

Manga:

GOKU: Vegeta what's cornmeal made of? I know it's what the corn eats, but what's it made of? VEGETA: Hey Kakarot let's play the quiet game until one of us dies.

[waterlinkedgirl]

Musical Touken Ranbu: Michinooku ~ Hitotsu Hachisu (Michinooku ~ A Single Lotus)

Here we go! Only a few days after the archive release and toumyu's ninth anniversary (congratulations!)

Michioku, or Michihasu, is a myu I have many conflicting feelings about, both positive and negative. However, I do believe that with the right amount of care in the next Mika-related story myu, the negative can still be cleared. Plus, I'm glad about a lot of things being re-established. The writer does need to step up her game a little on the plot-writing side of things, as well as the understanding-and-respecting-past-myu side of things, but as long as she does, this can still be given a proper place within what was already established.

Keep in mind that these are only the subtitle files, timed and tled to the DMM senshuuraku and the bluray respectively. The archive version will have a talk at the start, so the starting times of the subs will have to be delayed accordingly.

You can find the subtitles and my TL notes document here!

[riality-check]

“What was it like? When you and Steve were together?” Eddie asks.

Nancy’s face takes on a grave seriousness that, honestly, scares the shit out of him. She’s Nancy Wheeler, and she’s always serious, but this is the kind of serious she gets when Eddie’s seen her talk about how awful the Hawkins Post is or the best way to aim for the kill.

This is Nancy Wheeler at her most serious. If Eddie were a lesser man, he’d be shaking in his boots. Instead, he’s only slightly aware of the way his feet are going numb in his high tops.

“Loving Steve is the easiest thing you’ll ever do,” she says. “And he’s going to find it so easy to love you back, because that’s what he does.”

Eddie wants to nod or say something to acknowledge that, but he doesn’t. He keeps sitting on the couch next to Nancy and waits for her to continue after she takes a sip of her Coke.

“Being loved by Steve is the hard part. He’s going to see you in a way that doesn’t line up with how you see yourself.”

She takes a deep breath. Unlike Eddie’s, hers doesn’t rattle in her lungs.

Straightedge.

“Because he is only ever going to see the best parts of you, and he is going to love them with everything he has.”

She looks at him for the first time. “Do you understand?”

Eddie nods, and he wants to leave it at that. Instead, he opens his mouth and asks, “Do you think you’d still be together? If it weren’t for the monsters?”

Nancy downs the rest of her Coke like a shot. Maybe she wishes that’s what it was.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what could have been, but I do know we’re different people now.”

“Okay.”

“I think,” Nancy says, because she’s not done and she’s a hell of a lot better with her words than Eddie is, “that people want what they didn’t have growing up. I want to make it big and get noticed and get the hell out. And Steve wants things that are big for him but little for me.”

She levels Eddie another look. Her big eyes are imploring.

Do you understand? they ask. Do you blame me?

Yes, Eddie thinks. No.

“So, as long as you can handle him loving you, and if you want the same things, I think you’ll be fine.”

“Just fine?” Eddie asks, trying to bring some levity back.

Nancy smiles for the first time. “More than fine. You’ll be better to him than I was.”

And with that, she gets off the couch and leaves Eddie alone.

[katiekatdragon27]

you got me into aircorn godbless (derogatory. I'm now hyperfixated. THEM ..) /silly /lh

You know what that means?! I get an excuse to post these super old doodles!!! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA /lh

I have not been super involved in the OSC as of late, but I won't give up an opportunity to share art, whether new or old, of all my sillies.

I have a stockpile of aircorn art that I've been sitting on, I really need to share more of it. But here are some of the lighthearted ones. Like this skating doodle! (Popcorn try to remember Airy's face is made of glass challenge IMPOSSIBLE GONE DANEROUS GONE DEADLY????)

A bunch more doodles under the cut:

Some older older doodles of Popcorn's beef with Rotton Apple.

After Showvember, Popcorn and Rotten Apple dated super briefly. It was incredibly sour for the both of them. Neither of their needs were not being met, and both (but mostly Popcorn) were not pulling their weight in the relationship. When they separated, both talked very poorly about the other.

Beanie, RA's current partner, completely validates all of RA's feelings. Airy, on the other hand, is chill with Popcorn venting to him but doesn't entirely believe her side (cuz she exaggerates everything). Also, Popcorn is very flip-floppy with her views on RA, cuz on one hand he annoys the hell outta her, but she really liked his company when they were together and just kinda wants to hold onto that. She wants everything and nothing to do with him. RA just wants nothing to do with her, but she has an uncanny way or wiggling into people's lives without their knowledge.

But other than that...

AIRCORN WEDINGGGGGGG!!!!!!

Yeahhhhh in my hc they get married. Their kids are the ring bearer and the flower girl, but they're not illustrated there. And you can only imagine how fun the wedding was for the two best men (minus Clock cuz he's just happy to be there). Worst music playlist on the planet was played during it too and the food was either banging or ass lol.

Also some Rotten Apple and Beanie for the road <3

Hopefully I can draw these dudes again, but like newer. I care for all of them deeply lol. Have a good one homies 👋👋👋

[demodraws0606]

People complaining about Tsukasa5 already are pissing me off, because like, it's so unbelievably obvious what this event is trying to do and the fact that people are so hung up on "urgh dur tsukasa strong why can't he do a wall climb".

Like, first of all, a lot of Tsukasa's strength has been used as comedy before and also it's never been said that Tsukasa could specifically do a wall climb before so people calling this a retcon or a stretch is really dumb to me.

Sure we can make jokes about it, but this is not like a serious writing problem or anything.

Also are we just gonna ignore the fact this event is literally just a reference to his 3rd event in a silly trenchcoat. Or the fact that this is obviously meant to be WxS's downtime and training arc to prepare them to face the loose plotpoints in the future?

His inner dialogue when chasing the ninja is very clearly a reference to the whole Pheonix thing, how he can't reach it no matter how hard he tries.

The wall climb is like an extremely fucking on the nose metaphor to him climbing over his issues as an actor.

THERE IS ALSO THE WHOLE THING THAT HINTS THAT TSUKASA CAN ONLY OVERCOME HIS PROBLEMS IF HE HAS HELP FROM OTHERS (AKA tsukasa would've literally BEEN INJURED, if it wasn't for the fact the troupe's leader was there).

In fact this literally followed an event aka Tsukasa 4 where he FAILED to do his role correctly.

It's almost like this event is meant to be a transition point between Tsukasa 4 and 6, where Tsukasa builds up the knwoledge on how to face his problems.

But no this is just mid event because it's very silly and "wow plot is stupid why can't tsukasa wall climb".

WxS fans are slowly just turning into VBS fans in terms of how whiney they're being i swear

[theminecraftbee]

okay now that i'm no longer trying to keep a project secret from certain people i can complain publicly about a thing i've been losing my mind about:

why the fuck is the evo wiki like that.

listen. i know. i know fandom wikis being decent entirely relies on whether there are people who both want to obsessively categorize things enough to fill out the wiki, with the free time to do that kind of obsessive categorization, and the desire to manage it all as a wiki. believe me, i know. but please i'm just trying to do research please, please at least bigb's page was just Entirely Empty so i knew i had useless information and just left. why the fuck did the mafia's page, by contrast, have this:

a sentence that is actively LESS USEFUL THAN IF IT WERE NOT THERE.

and then grian's page - GRIAN'S. GRIAN'S. THE ONE PAGE I THOUGHT MIGHT HAVE A SHOT OF BEING FILLED OUT. JOKE'S ON ME I GUESS.

BECAUSE IT HAS THIS????? I'M LOSING MY MIND. WHY ON EARTH IS THE WIKI LIKE THIS. WHY IS IT THIS BAD. PLEASE I'M JUST TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT EVERYONE'S RELATIONSHIPS WITH JIMMY AND MARTYN WERE PLEASE,

anyway thankfully i had friends who could help me with their own knowledge and who also found the evo recap but in conclusion i have been being driven mad by this for weeks, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[bazpango]

I need a Death Note hockey AU where lawlight are on opposing teams in the NHL and they always end up fist fighting on the ice every time they play each other. Neither are known as goon players, so it’s always a surprise for the fans to see their beloved captains fighting! Each other, no less! It happens so frequently that a rivalry is established between both teams and the NHL fully leans into it. Alas, neither make it to the playoffs.

The following summer passes and so does the draft, until Light is unexpectedly traded to L’s team and.it’s.pandemonium. People are freaking out. It is the scandal of the decade!!!!