#funny tactic there bud

[ugly-anarchist]

Me: I've been targeted by people for my perceived masculine traits. I've been told that my high T levels as an intersex person make me inherently more likely to be abusive, aggressive, or assault someone. I call this anti-masculinity because it feels like the most accurate term to describe my experiences and the way they align with what other queer people have also experienced.

Someone, for some reason:

[ghost-proofbaby]

too sweet (astarion ancunin x reader)

"you know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain. pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. [...] you're too sweet for me."

summary: astarion realizes you're too sweet for him, and he probably shouldn't let this go further than necessary. but, oh, he's going to. isn't he? (based on this request and the song 'too sweet' by hozier <3)

pairing: astarion ancunin x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for games regarding camp dialogue with astarion, discussion of astarion's past trauma, talks of self-loathing/disgust with sex, vague mentions & allusions to sex having been had, manipulation at it's finest! minors dni.

wc: 2k+

a/n: i just wanted to get inside this man's mind when he drops that fucking line the second time he tries to sleep with us/tav. why does his face fall like that? why?

divider by @firefly-graphics <3

As Astarion observes the rise and fall of your chest in the soft morning light, he can only think one thing: shit. He fucked up. 

And he had spent most of the early hours trying to retrace his steps, trying to decipher exactly where his monumental mistake had begun, but it seemed useless. 

It could have been somewhere between the first and third bottle of wine shared with you last night during festivities, where he’d sweet-talked you to the high Hells until you’d agreed to return to his bedroll in the dead of night. Where he’d made the joke that wasn’t all that funny – the joke that he loved you. Three pretty words tried out on his tongue, and they hadn’t been nearly as light-hearted as he’d wanted them to be. More of an experiment, a quick sip to see if he liked the taste. And he had fucked up, because he did like the taste. He liked the sweetness that stuck to every corner of his mouth as he delivered the sugar-coated lie to you, his entire face falling as a new weight appeared in his chest. 

But perhaps it had been the first night he tasted you – well, your blood, that is. The night he’d awoken from a nightmare of Cazador and in his vulnerability, had chosen you as his victim of yet another experiment. A test to see if he was truly free. One drop of a thinking creature’s blood, that was all he needed. But you’d given more than he’d bargained for, and your cloy ichor had coated his taste buds so addictively, and he had just known that night was only the beginning. It was the first time, but certainly not the last. 

He thinks he could drink in whatever you offered him, and only that, for the rest of his days while still finding some sickly, twisted version of reprieve regardless. Not a drop more than he needed, always vying for more. 

He’d be okay with that type of hunger, that type of yearning, and that might have been his first real mistake. 

Or maybe, just possibly, it had been that very first meeting. Maybe he had doomed himself from the moment he’d pressed a blade to your neck, when he had dragged you to the ground with him and felt all that warmth, all that fear, radiating off of you. So frightful, and you still had offered your help to him when it was all said and done. Perhaps that was when he had well and truly screwed himself over. One simple introduction, void of his usual wine and flowers, and he’d locked himself in for pure trouble. 

Not even the fun kind, at that. What a shame. 

At the end of the day, or rather the beginning of the day as it is now, it doesn’t matter where his threads had started to unravel. All that matters is that they were – every carefully thought out line of his plans had all frayed, all detangled from the bigger picture, all because of you. 

Heart of gold, blood of honey. You were far too sweet for him, and he knew it. 

“Having fun, are you?” 

“I am, it’s hard not to with you.”

You’d taken each of his tactics in stride, hadn’t you? Whereas his face had nearly crumbled beneath the weight of that beautiful lie, insides twisting uncomfortable as the humor had slipped through his fingers, your eyes had only glittered as you bit back a smirk. To so lightly tease him, to banter right back with him, instead of see the truth behind it all. He didn’t know if you were simply that naive or if you were another kindred soul – Perhaps you were finding just as much safety, just as much sanctuary, in whatever dance he’d dragged you into. An entanglement of lies, a blithe facade, a daring smile that whispers come now, play with me. 

And play with him, you had. 

You’d played with him, you’d drank with him, and you’d now slept with him. Twice. 

“You’re up early,” your voice murmurs, silken tone cutting through all his racing thoughts. 

He hadn’t even noticed you had stirred, rousing yourself out from underneath his stolen blankets to peer at him curiously as he perched on the edge of the bedroll. As far from you, and as far from your sweetness, as possible. 

“Oh, you know what they say, my dear,” he chirps, rolling his shoulders as the act wraps him back up. The charismatic charmer. The illusive rogue, trained impeccably to coax you in and secure his safety, “No rest for the wicked.” 

He’d awoken before you last time, too. Had watched the sun rise and enjoyed the warmth of it plastering across his skin long before you’d ever woken up. He half-hopes you’ll be less talkative this time; he half-hopes you’ll try to rope him into whatever discussion you can, if only for a few extra seconds of your attention. 

You were too sweet. Too sugary on his tongue, too soothing in his chest. He shouldn’t entertain you – he shouldn’t let this go further than necessary. 

You hum thoughtfully, the blanket slipping and exposing more of your chest. With the light flickering in from his tent’s entrance, he can easily spot those two scarring dots along your jugular where his fangs fit perfectly, “I don’t know if I’d describe you as wicked, lover.” 

“No?” Roped into discussion, it is. “How would you describe me then?” 

He’s not comfortable in this lighting. He feels feverish beneath your steady stare, the way your eyes take their time as you look over every inch of him. The languid observation has him convinced you’re seeing right through him – your glance can pierce right through all his armor and expose every flaw. You see him for the monster he is, you see him for the bitter soul he’s become, you see him as the unworthy spawn he believes himself to be. 

He almost swears that you even see right through his nice, simple plan at hand, not so easily fooled as he had believed you to be. 

“Charming, certainly,” you suddenly sigh, sitting up and keeping your body mostly covered still with that knitted blanket. He’d only snagged it because the shade of the wool nearly matched your eyes – not that he was paying attention to your eyes, of course, “But then again, you’d have to be to have bedded me twice now, wouldn’t you?” 

“We can always make it thrice,” he banters back, ignoring the bile that builds at the insinuation. But if that’s what it takes – laying on his back over and over again – to guarantee your protection, he’ll do it. He’d do it a thousand times over to keep himself as far away from Cazador’s chokehold as possible, “Does that entice you, love?”

When he turns his body fully, beginning a carefully and calculated crawl up the bed roll, ready to slot his body back between your thighs and encourage you to have his way with him, you stop him. The heel of your foot delicately presses against his chest, your head tilted curiously before you shake it. 

“Who’s the eager pup now, Astarion?” 

He likes the way his name drips off your tongue. Almost as if he might be made of the same sugar and spice as you, the same pure honey flowing through your veins also inhabiting his. You say it like a song, articulate it like the sweetest fruit. 

He shouldn’t like it. It shouldn’t be able to overpower his lingering disgust with himself so easily. 

“It’s hard not to be eager when it comes to you,” he says the line with good practice, beckoning a purr to his tone that had always won over the victims he’d entrap in dark taverns back in the city, “I said the Gods had made you just to ruin me, and I meant it.”

He’d meant it more than he’d realized. It wasn’t just your body that had been sculpted to draw him in – it was everything. Your entire aura, your entire glacé demeanor. All that innocence and all that geniality enticed him more than he could ever admit. You were certainly going to ruin him, so wholly and so entirely. You’d already started to, really. 

You don’t respond at first, and he swears he has you. You’re locked in on his distraction, caught up in his web, just as he needs you to be. One lithe hand lifts to your ankle, cool fingers wrapping around your warm skin as he begins to lower his lips, ready to pepper kisses up your leg. Prepared to offer you his mouth, his body, in return for the one thing he needs. Self-loathing be damned. 

Old habits die hard, right along with pride, and he’s not quite ready to bury either at your grave yet. 

But just as he presses the first chaste kiss to your skin, nearly taken back by how your sweetness still breaks through the salty surface, you’re pulling the limb away from him. Your knee draws back and a disarming smile has risen on your cheeks, eyes glittering at him just as they had the night before. 

“I suppose I’ll have to come find you when everyone is asleep, then.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

What exactly had he been waiting for? You, of course. But had he been waiting for you to find him solely for what had transpired? To explore your portfolios of talents once more, as he had put it? Or had it been for something more… precarious? 

Was he nothing more than a prey, waiting for you to be his demise? 

Had he actually been waiting for this? 

The challenging look in your eyes as they reflected back stars, the warmth of your skin so close to him he nearly melts into you. The upturn of the corners of your mouth, outlining the way you certainly know something that he doesn’t. A look you wear well, a look that shakes his foundations and rattles his bones. 

“As tempting as you are, I’ll have to decline. Duty calls, as they say.” 

Can you see right through him? 

He should be more deflated when you start going through the motions; he should be pouting or overthinking it all as he watches you gather your clothes once more, covering up the few bite marks of his that litter your skin. Every moment you prepare to leave his tent should be one spent overthinking where he’d gone wrong – why didn’t you want him? Was his plan even going to work? 

Were you truly too sweet for him? Would he have been better off trying to romance the likes of Gale for the safety just shy of his grasp now?

He doesn’t, though. For once, his mind is quiet as he watches you patter about. The bile retreats, the disgust fades. For the first time in a very long time, Astarion is leaving this interaction not feeling used. 

Maybe it’s in the way you cheekily snatch one of his shirts as you both pretend he doesn’t notice it, or maybe it’s in the gentle caress of your fingers through his hair as you pass him to pick back up your discarded weapon. Maybe it’s in every shy glance you offer him, or maybe it’s in your ever present grin. 

Watching you leave should worry him, but it only feels like a breath of fresh air. A wind that comes sweeping in with the promise of next time just as you pull back the flap to his tent. 

And he hadn’t realized he’d been waiting patiently for you to turn back to him until you do just this, offering him one final glance that sets him aflame, “Oh, and before I forget – you can feed on me tonight, if you need to.” 

Heart of gold, blood of honey. He couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

“Then I’ll see your delicious self tonight,” he takes a pause, one big and unnecessary breath filling his chest alongside that warmth you bring to him. The fearless leader, the kindest soul. His most apt nickname for you yet falls off his lips in a content sigh, “My sweet.”

He shouldn’t entertain you – he shouldn’t let this go further than necessary. 

But he’s going to. Gods, he is going to. 

After all, the sweetest fruits always fall from the most forbidden branches, do they not?

[nekrosmos]

I just woke up from a what’s supposed to be a 20 minutes nap but became 3 hours nap after taking my meds today 😂 can barely open my eyes as I type this

Here’s something random Price HC for you to distract you, not proof read so if it has errors my bad:

Price cared for a small plot of plant at the furthest region of the base he was stationed in. It started with one stubborn patch of green which looked half-crushed by careless boots and was barely clinging to life. Price noticed it one morning during his usual patrol. He paused, crouched down, knees cracking and he’s groaning like an old man he is and studied the struggling little plant. “Tough little bugger,” he thinks.

For some reason, he came back afterwards and poured some water on the poor shrub, and then again the next day, and again on the next next day, watching as the plant loses its yellowing green and grow new sprouts.

He could hardly consider this “farming” or “gardening”, but slowly he started getting more stuff for this routine of his. Like a broken mug as a way to scoop the dirt or picking up a random stray’s dung and pat it into the ground as fertilizer.

The men sometimes caught him lingering by the plants, but no one questioned it. They just assumed their captain was doing some sort of “tactical assessment” of the terrain. If anyone noticed the occasional frost-free patch or the odd green shoot looking a little healthier than before, they chalked it up to luck or nature, when actually it has been the Captain who’s been taking care of the plants on that place.

I don’t know where this is going, but I just think it’s funny to imagine Price walking around and going, “wait, have I watered that bugger today” or like imagining him squatting and fussing about some random plants, talking to it like he’s talking to another soldier.

Something something him being tender to the things no one cares about something something…anyways!! Hope this is enough to distract bud, I’ve yet to catch on on you and Jack’s stuff which I will do later or tomorrow myehehe

Oh this is adorable Gomz !!! Love Price talking to a plant like he's talking to his soldiers. Lots of threats. A (gentle) pat on the leaves. He's so proud when the thing starts getting bigger and stronger. Tough bugger alright. Whenever John is annoyed by his superiors or by bureaucracy, he goes outside and takes care of that plant. Beats yelling at some wide-eyed recruits some days.

Maybe this unlocks something in his brain and he starts to enjoy gardening ?? Nik notices and buys him the required tools next time they're on break together. Price has a small house somewhere in England, with a small garden but he always kept it as practical as he could, nothing fancy. Now he's thinking of growing some plants, some veggies, maybe get his own food so Nik can cook him some homemade meal with homegrown vegetable.

It's a nice little hobby he grows to enjoy, takes his mind out of the job for a few hours and makes him spend some energy (which he always has too much of whenever he's not at work.). Nik loves to sit on a garden chair outside and watch him work while enjoying some tea. It's nice to see John take some time off.

[joannasteez]

lavender based

pairing: roman reigns x black reader summary/warning: you've catered to his bruises long enough he thinks, wanting desperately to have you in his arms. | smut. hints of fluff. minors do not interact. explicit descriptions, 18+ word count: 2k music inspo: comfortable by h.e.r

it was a massage. sure tender hands running into his skin with a deep enough pressure to lull him into the fondest sense of security. a sweet burning incense curling up free and lavender oil smooth over reddened tawny welts and some day old scars. and if he could, he'd reach up, flex his core easy and push his lips up to yours to kiss the pout of them away. but you're determination proceeds any of the more amorous wants plaguing him. a feverish rush simmering through the run of his blood. its a fast sure course through his fingers to the steady hardness between his legs. and you can feel him there, stirring excited, more impatient by the second. it was a massage, but you weren't sure how long he would last.

he's smooth and clever, stains his fingers with the memory of your skin, palm coaxing a throbbing in your spine as it takes the journey to your nape. roman rests on the strength of an elbow. whisper's "c'mere", and revels in the leisure burning brown haze of your eyes. 

he moans, your tongue licking at the seam of his lips till they pass to push against his own. and it's funny, he thinks he has you, as you take to a sloppy kiss. something light and pitchy singing from your throat when he bites. tenses his teeth to tease your bottom lip. he thinks he has you good, stowed away in the hard set of his arms, your breath hurried and impatient when he breaks from you just to rush in again. but its all game and tactic. the slowest dance. 

your nails run a little with pain at their tips, trailing his neck till his own spine throbs in their wake. but nothing feels better than the wrap of them about his throat. barely pressured but your hand there all the same, feeling his pulse, as the other cradles his head. 

a short tug at the root and he's a mess of groans. clawing further into your waist till you're grinding into his lap. 

your lips break but stay just close enough to share breaths. 

you tsk. "this was supposed to be relaxing. your body is still healing"

he hums. falls, bringing you with him into a nest of pillows. palms slipping slow over exposed supple skin, meticulous, till something flares in the brown of his eyes, and then he's clawing in till you're roughed into him further. "you touch me the way you do and expect me to behave". 

your thumb reaches to soothe slow over tempting lips. a sweet caress as the lavender coaxes you to settle further into his embrace. "i just wanna see you better. hate it when you get hurt like this". 

"i'm alright", and you think he's never been so sure of anything. kisses against your fingers, your palm, and then back to your mouth. simple and sweet as he rolls over to continue. tongue and lips working in tandem till you're moaning and melting into the fluff of the sheets. " 'm alright enough to touch you", his tongue curling before it runs flat to lick your at nipple. “taste you”. lips catching to suck gentle. and the feeling is good to him, the bud rolling over easy. more so even when you pull his head in gentle for more, as if you'd ever have to ask. you'd never have to plead even, unless you wanted to. and just after he breaks, he pulls at the bud, teasing with his teeth. "alright enough to hold you". and he finds himself just at the other side, his tongue soothing over wet and more persistent than before. bordering closer and closer to that fine line of feral-ness. 

he hadn't seen you in sometime. constantly on the go, in cars, on planes, from city to city, till he was done, and then after that he was out of country and that distance only made the ache for him worse. and the ache for you just as unbearable. 

so you understand the burden, that wild edge to his touch. pushing and prying at your hot skin, hands ripping at the dainty sodden fabric of your panties. and you smell good, his nose breathing in, followed by the run of his tongue just at that plain of skin where your inner thigh folds. and something like possession corrals in him, forces his mouth to water and his tongue to taste. ardent and masterful, measured, like he's remembering you. a firm wet slip up till he's catching the nub of your clit. and then he remembers, why he aches so much, in hotel rooms across the country and the sea, flits his eyes up to see what a sweet mess he's made of you so far and remembers everything. 

"baby girl, you're beautiful y'know that?" 

he breathes warm over you, and it has you clenching about nothing, his words slipping a silly grin into your lips. "if i didn't, i know now". 

"need you to know it everyday". 

wet kisses at the underside of your thighs, thumbs holding at the bend of your knees till he's back where you need him most. 

and fuck is it perfect. an untainted bliss. his tongue a firm caress as his mouth closes in to suckle. raven hair like a veil as it falls around him. groans harsh. desperate and chest deep, resonating till it rides the course just under your skin. beard rubbing your flesh raw, and your spine throbs again, so much so till an arch fights its way there and you cry. whispered chants, fuck fuck fuck, your nails finding their way to the hair at his nape, tugging but pushing, overwhelmed but needing more. 

your hips roll into his mouth. a slow grind that catches his steady rhythm. 

you sob just slightly, releasing the tightness in your chest, but it seems inefficient when he pushes your legs further apart. breaks only to lay his fat tongue at your slit. the tip curling artful, pushing into a rhythm of gentle strokes against slick walls. a soft savoring as he traps your clit between his thumb and fore finger to remedy the pulsing ache. 

the drive of him is more methodical than not but forever underscored by a ready to burst primal urge. him, the rhythm, it's something dynamic and it shakes you down till you're quivering hard. 

and theres the beginnings of a soreness in your throat. a raspy moan that forces his hips to rut against the sheets. searching for some mild form of relief. 

"mhmm, please rome", a mewl, and it's featherweight, disjointed. surges into his nerves this restless need to see you undone. 

you tremble, a harsh bursting that treks over nerve and skin. a white heat that falls, a rushing in and a pulling away fast. release beating hard and unforgiving into your blood. but still his tongue swipes, along your slit till it flicks its way to the fat of your clit. a slow sweeping roll before he's pulling up and away to kiss wet at your mouth. less measured and lazy. his hair wild, your fingers pulling away fallen strands as you lap at his tongue to have a taste. it makes him rut again, clothed but hard still. painfully so as you continue to lap and suck at his tongue. teeth tensing the seam of his lips the way he does as often as he can.

he grows sloppy in the kiss, seemingly more needy, less attentive to the natural ways he controls the pace. your legs take to wrapping around his waist just as you break from his lips, a thin silky string of spit the only thing connecting raw, kiss swollen mouths. he licks out to take it in, that fine wet connecting string , till its riding the seam of your mouth again, waiting for access. 

and he's huge, strength more fierce than you remember it being, but he's sure to remind you as he pulls up to sit his knees into the bed. a relaxed kneeling position as you wrap secure about him, waiting for more of whatever he has to give you. and he steels his breathing, pushes at the constraints of his underwear till he's free and stiffening more against the cooler air. a single arm holding you up high along his chest and the other pulling hard strokes at his cock. a groaning "fuck", flowing between the both of you as he teases the dripping head at your clit. 

"missed this", you give him. words falling into the freckles at his cheek as he teases the slick mess of your slit, hands nailing into the fat of your ass, a hard grip, as he grinds your pussy against him. marveling wild at the slipping sensation, a mess and a half of moans, till he's too ravaged to take more teasing done by his own hand. but your at his ear still, whispering. "missed you fucking me". 

" 'm here now", he roughs out. widens the part of his knees. for more stability, more room to take you. 

"mhmm", uncontrolled and sweet from your throat. realizing just what he's doing as he grips his hands tighter before bringing you down for a vicious stroke. 

and the easy slip of you makes his chest huff deep, skin taking a sticky wet mold to his as he digs in and stretches you to take to the hilt, a milder form of a roughing as he feeds hard into you. teetering still on that line where patience ends and primal urges begin, as you cling to him. wet and warm, and so good for him. each down swing he moves your hips into birthing the sweetest lewd smacking at his skin. the hard front of his waist and lap soaked, pelvis hitting just right at the open spread of your slit enough to catch a dragging at your clit. 

and it goes like this for some time, both you stewing in the heat of the day as he lays claim to you once again, after so much time and distance, and you to him, biting at the tough skin of his shoulder for some sort of reprieve from the building tension.

your clit flutters. ready for another release. a small cry, the well of a single tear, and hes nudging firm, catching sweet at the spot that leaves you moaning and breathless. an unshakeable stir in your core, nails tempted to indent the wide set of his back, but your settle for a lazy swing of arms around his neck. not wanting to injure him more than he is already. 

"ahhaa fuck". breath catching with another release. 

a tight drooling spasm against his cock. his hips rutting desperate for more, a firm clench against him again that nearly drives him to swoon. " that pussy gets so messy when you come", he growls.

and you hum, long and weak, flexing against him again. taut enough to stir the coiling in his core. lips taking his into some slow disjointed kiss. molding together till it's broken apart for breath, leaving you to suck and tease at him. 

the sheets grow sodden, more as he ruts his hips and drags deep. digging into you hard, fire in the heat of his hands. fingers pulling, tugging and spreading, slipping lower to cup against the undersides of your thighs to pry your pussy open and over him. a mean growl toughing up out his chest as he fights to keep that steady downward stroke of your hips. 

"you're good for me baby girl", words falling along your skin. "so good". 

he stirs, roughs you into a grind as he comes undone. mumbling and groaning incoherently. curses and praise s that flow natural into a breathy silence. 

he works to still the raging in his chest. breathing into your neck and falling into the smoothening your touch gives the wild shuddering that takes to his nerves.

you fall with him, a gentle bounce as you lay atop him along the sheets. dripping in you still with a growing softness. skin sticky and hot to the touch but sated. air breezy and cool as it curls in, pushing past the sway of curtains. 

he can smell the lavender still on your skin, at the tips of your fingers as he kisses them. folds his fingers into yours, soothing over the patch of skin there. 

it was a massage. something better now. 

[kirbsmakemesmile]

Hey what’s up hello

Dude I’ve been rewatching KRBAY with my bestie bud @dirtyshoes15 and it’s like actually so sad so I’m gonna ramble a bit

In the episode with Kit Cosmos, he thinks Kirby is a monster right and he’s like, “Hah! Guess nightmare never taught this monster guerilla war tactics heh!😂😂” and it actually killed me NIGHTMARE USES GUERILLA WARFARE TACTICS THAT IS REALLY SCARY

The cappies are very ignorant and they have little to no education about their own history. They only have one historian who makes up “theories” but they’re never based on fact and are easily disproven (ep 8). Before episode 8 they said cappies migrated to dreamland, but in episode 8 curio said there were “ancient cappy artifacts” but both can’t happen? Sure there’s stuff from when they migrated but they wouldn’t be ancient?? Again in episode 24 curio completely lies about what the ninja scrolls mean and says they’re to teach ninjas how to do awesome tricks, but the scroll turns out to be some kids report card?? So it just shows how unreliable this guy is and how ignorant and misinformed these people are.

And lastly I wanted to talk about Wolfwrath. So in episode 26 it’s all about Mk, sword, blade, and Wolfwrath. They talk about how they met and yeah, but there’s an interesting shot during the flashbacks. There’s a scene showing the star warriors dead like all over and it’s really sad, and then it pans to Mk running away. Now when Mk later gets hit by wolfwrath and loses consciousness, he doesn’t die, he’s just paralyzed. But he only regains consciousness after Wolfwrath is dead. All the star warriors that were “dead” in that shot were not dead, they were all alive but paralyzed, they died like that dude it’s actually so sad. Nightmare is actually so evil it’s not funny. And so when Mk says that Kirby is their only hope, it’s because he couldn’t defeat Wolfwrath and neither could sword or blade, so that makes the situation super dire and puts all the pressure on Kirby. Not to mention, Kirby doesn’t really understand things yet he’s like a baby so he actually thinks Mk is dead

This is so sad dude if you freaking watch this show and look into it it’s really really sad I’m crying

Anyways I hope you liked my talking I will talk more if I remember other stuff BYE

Here’s a wip for reading

[pettypiastri]

my boyfriend's boyfriend

jamie drysdale x fem reader ft. trevor zegras

requested by @corneliaskates: "okay in light of these photos… I’m making you write jamie for me what about like moving in with him but like moving in with him also means moving in with trevor and… chaos ensues"

wc: 2.3k

warnings: blood in the context of undercooked food and also minor injury, reference to Jamie's shoulder injury and doctors offices, swearing, mention of drugs in a medical context, chaos, buffoonary

a/n: just some fun casual writing for a collection of scenes that i think you’d likely see upon moving into the zegras/drysdale household, pls enjoy the chaos! lots of this unhinged behavior we already knew about the 2 of them but a few details came from the recent "The Players Lounge" podcast episodes with jamie and trevor so go listen! (also would the homies wanna see me write for mason mctavish cause i really would love to do so)

Jamie stares blankly at the doctor as he continues to come to. He doesn’t hear the inquisition the doctor made. The first thought on his mind is the only thought he's had since he skated off the ice, his left shoulder in a dead hang: his season is over, there’s no way around it. 

“Mr. Drysdale?” The physician tries to get Jamie’s attention. 

“Yes, umm I’ll be there to help him. I’ve taken time off work.” Jamie turns his head slowly to look at you. He barely registers what you’ve said. He almost wants to ask you to repeat it but he knows he heard you right. The doctor shifts toward you, flipping through the aftercare instructions and various medications Jamie will have to take. You’re collected, attentive, and receptive all the while Jamie’s eyes bore into your profile, trying to understand. He’s still drowning in self-wallowing and frustration and now is trying to parse through the funny sort of feeling in his heart watching you prepare yourself to be a part time caretaker for him. Not only are you here right now, you’ve just admitted out loud, without any previous discussion between the two of you that you are not just willing but going to help him during his recovery?? He feels an intensity to communicate his love and appreciation for you that he’s not used to but ends up manifesting as,

“Will you move in with me?” The door to the exam room has just barely clicked shut from the doctor’s exit. Your spine is rod straight now from where you were previously collecting your purse and coat. Jamie’s always been a fiddler, twitching and messing with loose skin on his finger or the belt loop of your jeans, but now he sits perfectly still as he stares at you. 

“Where’s the big red button, I think they gave you too much of something bud.” Humor always serves as a great deflection tactic for you but Jamie won’t let you off the hook.

“No no, I’m serious. Do you want to move in with me?” Your expression remains slightly standoffish as you draw closer to the bed. As you prop yourself on the hospital bed, you notice his eyes are inviting, stoic: a safe place to land. Lazy fingers reach to soothe Jamie’s uninjured arm. 

“Would you have asked me if you hadn’t torn your shoulder?” Jamie’s nod is emphatic. 

“Yes, it probably just would’ve taken me a bit longer to ask. You still make me nervous-- but like in a good way, in a good way.” Jamie stumbling over his words endears you like nothing else. “I kind of hate being without you, not in a weird codependent way, I just really like who I am when you’re around.” 

Your mind is already made up after Jamie’s unbridled honesty but you still have to ask,

“Shouldn’t you run this by Trev first maybe?” He is a member of the household, though not much of a contributing one. To sell his conviction, Jamie’s eyes don’t leave yours as he reaches for his phone in the back pocket of the jeans he thinks he’s wearing. He gets an awful fright meeting bare skin under the hospital gown. Creasing at the waist with laughter doesn’t hinder you too much as you dig for his phone in your purse. He takes it sheepishly from your grasp. As he dials Trevor’s number, you urge him to put it on speaker phone.

“Jimmy! How high are you, man??”

“Z, Y/N’s gonna move in with us.”

“I thought she already lived here?”

—

Since the moment of Jamie’s injury you’ve been practically inseparable. Surgeon consultations, post op, helping him dress, cooking for him, you’ve truly been there for it all for Jamie. Now that he’s several months post op and regained most all of his range of motion, he’s been eager to pick up some slack. 

“Are they closed?” 

“Jamie my love, yes. I’ve literally had them closed every time you’ve asked in the last 15 minutes.” You sigh, patience thinning at both the frequent reminders and… well… how goddamn slow Jamie’s being. To pass the time, you’ve taken to concocting a game with the yellow spots on the inside of your closed eyelids.

“Dude it’s been fucking hours would you hurry up already?” 

“Trevor, no one asked you.” Jamie snips at his childish best friend. It’s date night tonight and Jamie wanted to cook for you. Trevor decided, because he is cripplingly codependent, that he just had to sit on the living room couch to scroll Instagram. You’ve mentally taken the under on Trevor stealing some of your bread with olive oil within the first five minutes of it being in front of you because ‘Jimmy why didn’t you make any for me too?’

“Okay it's ready, you can open!” Slowly doing as you’re told to readjust to the well lit dining room, you catch Jamie scurrying around to his side of the table. His face holds an adorably pleased expression, you can tell he’s very proud of himself. The spread in front of you is barbequed steak, bread with olive oil, and a green salad; a shockingly balanced meal. A normally restless boy, Jamie vibrates with excitement even more now as he waits for your appraisal. 

“Jamie baby, it looks amazing! Thank you!” Crows' feet emerge to compensate for his smile becoming impossibly wider, yet he’s still a bit shy, bashful after your praise.

“I’d hope so, it took you long enough Jimbo,” the peanut gallery croons again. You don’t even acknowledge Trevor as you begin to saw through your steak… until red liquid begins to pour out… Stunned and surprised, your mouth gapes for a moment, finding the gentlest way to put things.

“Jamie,” drawing out the final vowel, your eyes flick to his. His expression is eager with eyebrows raised in question.

“How long was this steak on the barbeque for?” 

“Like 10 minutes I think? Why?” Jamie pales slightly at your question.

“I think the heat was too high babe.” Jamie observes his steak with a close eye and then oggles yours from across the table before reaching for his knife. 

“What do you mean? You said it looks amazing, I mean look at those char marks!” 

“Jamie baby, it's practically still moo’ing…” Trevor bursts out laughing, his stupid wheeze accompanying Jamie’s panic. As his knife breaches the admittedly lovely crust, bloody liquid pours out of Jamie’s steak as well. The color of his cheeks grows to match that of what's on his plate. Jamie starts to say something but it’s Trevor’s voice you both hear instead.

“Just put it in the microwave.” 

—

The team returned last night from the East coast road trip. You and Jamie have been in denial about Trevor’s return, trying to stretch out the silence with a lazy day on the couch. Trevor however has had other plans.

“Why do I have the least blanket right now? I’m literally the tallest of us three.” 

“Because no one invited you to join?” You shove at Trevor’s toes that are digging into your thigh from how you’re sardine-d on the couch. He whines as you do so, pushing at you back. Harder. “Ow Trevor stop!” 

“What I’m not fucking doing anything!” 

“Guys! I can’t hear what they’re saying!” Jamie bursts, effectively shutting you both up. Trevor glares at you as you snuggle further into Jamie’s chest, Jamie's arm visibly tightening around you. The face you give Trevor is smug. 

“Fine, I’ll just go somewhere else then.” As he stands from the couch he makes an equally childish display of flipping the blanket up and over your head, messing up your hair and covering your eyes.

Jamie coos quietly at you not to say anything or react so you remain calm and settle in to watch the rest of the current episode of Yellowstone with your boyfriend.

A few minutes later when there is a distinct cacophony of falling caps, banging metal doors, and at least a liter container of liquid (hopefully closed) hitting the floor, it’s not hard to tell Trevor has decided to do his laundry. He comes back upstairs acting as if nothing was afoot. 

It’s not until an hour later when Trevor has made the switch to the dryer that you notice something actually might be off. Wafting up from downstairs is a distinct smell of burning. You pause to be sure your nose isn’t confusing something else before voicing your worry.

“Do you smell that?” Jamie sniffs violently enough to be audible. 

“What are you– oh shit!” Jamie moves from behind your back leaving you flopping onto yours from his quickness. “Trevor!!” He shouts while bounding down the stairs. “I told you, you have to clean the lint trap every single time you use the dryer!” His voice grows inaudible the farther downstairs he gets. Trevor peeks his head out from his room. 

“Was he talking to me?” You can’t help but laugh, hands covering your face in disbelief.

“Why are we friends with you?” 

“I’m fucking awesome, duh.”

—

“Okay don’t panic–” Is all you hear before you start to panic. “But umm Z might’ve slipped on the roof…” 

“Tell me you’re joking. Why are you calling me? Oh my god Jamie, call the trainer or something! Is he hurt?” It’s brisk in the shade where you stepped out of your office to answer the incessant calls from your boyfriend. You’re still not off for another hour. 

“I think he’s okay. Definitely tore open his leg but we put some stuff on it. He’s still complaining about it but you know him, he’s always complaining about something so I think he’s okay.” As Jamie finishes, your phone vibrates with a text. “I sent you a picture of it.” The picture reveals a shallow cut about 6 inches long down the front of Trevor’s calf. There’s still remnants of blood around the cut itself and more notably about 12 normal sized bandaids placed like a patchwork quilt over the area of interest. Idiots. “We didn’t wanna get in trouble with the team…” Jamie says softly, decidedly embarrassed.

“I see. Okay well great job with the band aids you guys. I’ll pick some more up on the way home and some other supplies. Why were you up there?” 

“I was playing guitar and Trevor came up to tell me he could do it better and then promptly took it from me.” There’s a pouty lilt to Jamie’s voice that makes you wonder if Trevor’s really the one that got hurt. 

“Did he damage your guitar Jim Jam?” A shiver rakes your body as you’re desperate to get back inside the office.

“No, thank god.” He’s quiet, waiting for your reply. 

“You’re doing great Jamie, it’s really coming along baby.” He chirps a thank you, easily excited by your dismissal of Trevor’s insult. The two of you say your goodbye’s over Trevor’s whining in the background. 

On your way home, as promised, you stop at a drugstore to grab some gauze and larger wraps for Trevor’s ‘injury.’ You send a snarky picture of two contending boxes of Band Aids side by side to Trevor. Your caption ‘Mandalorian or Tangled?’ Something tells you Trevor’s reply is completely serious when your phone lights up with ‘Flynn Rider.’

—

Jamie slips into your shared bathroom as you’re fanning gently at your face. He smiles kindly but doesn’t start a conversation. Instead he reaches for his toothbrush and sets to brushing his teeth. The two of you don’t normally get ready for bed together at the exact same time. Typically one of you is asleep on the couch and being prodded at by the other to come to bed. Well, you normally prod at Jamie while he normally gallantly carries you to bed without disturbing your sleep. As he brushes his teeth, Jamie observes you as his entertainment. He steadies himself with a hip popped against the counter and one foot crossed in front of the other. 

Jamie’s attention does not bother you. Being the type not to speak until prompted, Jamie’s stays silent, his watchful gaze comforting if anything. That is until his lips form a small smile around his toothbrush that begins to grow. Finally you flick your eyes over to him in the mirror and notice toothpaste beginning to trickle down his chin. A drop that was lingering ominously begins to fall so you lurch forward to catch it in the palm of your hand, not wanting to risk the white carpet square Jamie’s standing on. 

“If you keep smiling like that you’re gonna get toothpaste on yourself Jamie. Be careful.” The toothpaste in your palm is flicked into the sink before you promptly rinse your hand. Jamie heeds your warning, deciding it's time for him to rinse as well. After his hands are towel dried he moves to hug you from behind. The smile is still on his face.

“Seriously, what are you smiling about, mister?” A giggle escapes your chest. You feel Jamie’s shrug against your back as you dig for another product in the drawer next to you. 

“Dunno, I’m just so happy you’re here.” Around you, Jamie’s never shied away from honesty and it’s something you’ve always appreciated. The last few months living with Jamie and Trevor has been chaos, hell at times, and insanely stressful but you’ve still found joy in every moment. So you meet Jamie’s honesty with some of your own when you say,

“There’s no place I’d rather be.” 

Later, when the two of you find yourselves curled around each other in bed, under an excessive number of blankets, it’s like Trevor has ESP for when he’s being left out of affections. A knock on the conjoining wall confirms this theory. His voice is muffled but you can still make it out.

“I love you guys.” Jamie chuckles and kisses your forehead, shaking with laughter of your own.

“We love you too Trevor.”

[kojoty]

Delta: Agent York, I would be remiss not to correct your statistical errors here. This could pose a tactical disadvantage if I cannot trust you to make the correct statistical calculations in the field. Simply put, I can compute reasonable decisions based on far more data than you can compute. Therefore--

York: are you still mad that I laughed when you were wrong about who would win the superbowl.

Delta: .

York: I'm not going to not listen to you in the field because it was funny you were wrong once, D, are you kidding me? Shit. We gotta go play poker soon to boost your ego again bud

[crowroboros]

CARL 2 anything left to scrape off walls of this barrel before hitting the baseline facts?

Sorry for taking so long to do this, had a lot going on offline lol.

Okay, Carl round 2. I think in the first Carl post I made, I focused a lot on him narratively and how the plot handles his character so I guess I'll focus on being more casual with this one. Just getting out random thoughts, you know?

Carl and Daxton's friendship was one of the best parts of the vn. I would read an entire story of those two just being best buds after Flynn's route.

I kind of want to know what specific irl games (or their in universe equivalent) Carl is into cause in Route 65 Chase says that Carl is playing a "Japanese Tactics RPG" on his handheld and my mind immediately went to Fire Emblem. And idk I find the idea of the Echo gang knowing about Fire Emblem to be very funny for some reason.

I wish we got a bit more Sydney and Carl flashbacks. Both of them were very close to Flynn and Carl expresses discontent over the lack of answers surrounding Syd's death. I just wonder how close they were and what their friendship was like. Especially considering the shit in TJ's route with the "never have I ever killed somebody" or how Carl wanted to do the treasure hunt to get some closure. It makes it seem like those two were better friends than say Syd and Jenna, but we don't really see any of it.

Speaking of Carl's relationships with different characters, we have to talk about Carl and Flynn right? I'm not into the shipping scene much, but "Flarl" is something I can get behind. This post always jumps to mind when I think of their relationship and it is probably the most compelling piece of Flarl content I've ever seen, official or otherwise. Also I occasionally see the opinion that Flynn/Carl didn't have much hints in the prologue and Carl's route. And I can agree with the prologue, but in the beginning of Carl's route, Flynn and Carl was having an argument over Carl spending time with Chase over Flynn.

Chase rationalizes the "making out" comment and the other remarks between Flynn and Carl as a joke (and on my first reading I did as well) but in retrospect yeah wow there were more hints towards their relationship than I remember.

Also wait Carl isn't an only child right? I might be saying bullshit but I swear he mentions a sister in his route.

He fucking does what

who the hell is she? wait she gets mentioned once and then never again what is going on there?

[dumbistsmartass]

saying something about every hatchetfield production

spoilers, some nonsense, zero consistency with what I talk about, hurriedly written text, and back Cinderella’s Castle, QUICKLY, the kickstarter ends on May 4th. Also I mostly won’t be talking about the message to take away from all of them because I plan to make that another post.

TGWDLM: the catalyst of it all, it set up many fan favorite characters. Also my personal interpretation is that the musical we watch is actually happening in canon and is being put on by Pokky/Paul. Also how much of someone’s personality remain after infection?

Black Friday: it does pretty good as our first (true) intro to the LiBs it works very well. We get more General Macnmara who quickly becomes one of my favs. It also adds a lot of my other favs to the Hatchetverse, Hanna, Lex, Ethan, and Tom

NPMD: probably my favorite of the mainline musicals. I really hate Dirty Girl tho. The musical version of Hatchet Town is better than the OST version. The characters all have really good chemistry. I love Grace as a warning about the consequences of using religion as a fear tactic, when she sinned and wasn’t instantly punished for it she decided to take matters into her own hands and became a bloodthirsty maniac. The fact we got so close to a good ending if Max hadn’t fallen is darkly funny.

Hatchetfield Apeman: I don’t know how to feel about this one, it’s an interesting story but I think shouldn’t have been the first nightmare time story as it set a bad precedent for a lot of people.

Watcher World: I FUCKING LOVE WATCHER WORLD. The horror buildup of “what the fuck is happening here?” was genuinely amazing. The idea of a paranormal amusement part made for the amusement of an elder god id so cool. I feel uncomfortable saying the work “Sniglet”

Forever and always: one of my favs, the mystery of the two Emma’s is amazing, and the twist of which Emma Paul chose is amazing. It does make me wonder tho, is Emma a robot in every timeline? Also im just gonna assume that Tinky is connected to this one.

Time Bastered: another of my favs, the way it connects with FaA and the very clever time travel writing were highlights. The Ted is The Homeless Guy twist is really clever, and the ending is tragic

Jane’s a Car: holy shit my opinions on this one is so mixed. I love the bonding of Becky, Tom, and Tim is so wholesome. I REALLY hate that scene. Also is Jane turned into a car in every universe?

The Witch in the Web: our true into too Webby. Massive lore dumbs sort of weighted it down for me but it was still good.

Honey Queen: god I love this one. The fact that the LiBs aren’t mentioned until the very end was a really good choice. Both Zoey and Linda going to any length to win was some great tension.

Perky’s Buds: I went into this one expecting it to be kinda mid, and I was right but it was on the high end of mid. Ziggy being NB and played by a real NB actor is great! The bird hive mind is genuinely kinda unnerving despite how cute they are. I personally think they should have died, then content on the rooftop with the fire would have been such a good ending, but the police showing up to arrest them packs less of a punch.

Abstinence Camp: again, one of my favs, I fucking love this one and it also has the best Nightmare Timr song. It’s a fun way of exploring the “if you have sex in a horror movie you die” trope. Grace once again gets some sort of power and abuses it.

Daddy: I have mixed feelings, it’s a genuinely interesting plot but it get pretty uncomfortable. The song at the start made me think it would be a more empathetic take on Sherman Young but it definitely fucking wasn’t.

Killer Track: what is there to say? Killer track is actually so fucking amazing, if you will watch anything from this list watch this. I’m saying nothing else

Yellow Jacket: not at all what I was expecting, but it was great! From what I heard I was sort of expecting a high school drama with Pokky doing his bullshit in the background, but I loved this too. Also the ending hurt me.

Workin’ Boys: Pokky strikes again, but I’m not sure why TBH. Motherfucker just decided to fuck with his one most loyal subject and for what?

[moon-0f-m4rs]

im late, hi

CIG AND OTHER MERCS INTERACTION YAYYY

Scout: She'd very much help him prank spy, often. SImmilar age as he is so just 2 lousy children lmao. She also would take from him alot cuz i feel like scout would have lots of silly trinkets and thingys, but outta respect, just the unwanted things for a change from others. Both r yappers so it always results in some idiotic ideas

Solider: She isnt too ecstatic when he spots her. I mean, she never really tries to be careful to not be seen, but when she hears HALT MAGGOT! she rolls her eyes and sighs. She likes to mess with him, but not too badly like she could. Sometimes when she sees hes makin a medal would give him some stuff she has stored, just cuz why not

Pyro: Arson buds. Crafty buds. Buds. She often goes to him for lighters for her cigarettes. Would like to accompany him in battle once but no respawn chip :( Finds tiny pretty things or even bugs if they're not hostile to her and brings them to him. Poses for his drawings. 1# GUEST AT EVERY TEA PARTY. 10/10 friendship.

Demoman: Cig likes to keep him company. Whenever shes bored and theres nothing else to do hes 3rd in list of ppl she goes to. She did try scrumpy from him, brunt her throat, would try again. Most often steals from him cuz shes sure he wouldnt mind, or even notice <33

Heavy: Would sometimes sneak up on him and idk jump from a shelf and land on his shoulder. She finds it funny he gets anxious around tinys as she picked it up from pocket (pocket is canon, i am valve). But shes not doing it like every other day, maybe once a month when she remembers about it. But overall they wouldnt interact that much.

Engineer: Takes things from his workshop alot too, knows hes mad about it, dosent care. Whenever engie sees her, she just says "Shhhh no you didn't" and leaves. If he does catch her, she just starts her yap session which probably results her in just being let go. She doesn't fight him, she just acknowledges him and goes about her way cuz she knows he wouldnt do anything drastic.

Medic: Oohh yeaah thats what we've been waiting forrr!!!!! Their interaction would go like:

cig (stands by an apple): an apple a day keeps the doctor away

medic: i lost my license

cig: oh, L lmao

She would always find a way to escape him. Why? I said so :D Cig is actually so confident about herself she would just sit on a shelf and watch him work, maybe even step into his arm reach willingly and mock him. I feel like that tactic would overtime just have him give up on her entirely lol

so yeah she isnt scared, or hates him, shes there to make fun of him

Sniper: Both don't see eachother often, and honestly, she finds sniper boring. He barely socializes, sleeps outside the base in some van, idk odd guy. One time she was just sitting out in the open like nothing and sniper noticed her, both stared and said nothing, and went their ways.

Spy: oooh.. ooooh... they both DESPISE eachother. Hes the 1# hunter for her ass because of the amount of cigarettes she steals. Whenever hes around or when she just feels his presence, she actually hides. Every now and then she will figure out a way to annoy him more. She actually dares to enter his smoking room and mess in it. Spy is also very annoyed by the fact she has managed to avoid him for so long when hes the worlds greatest spy. Cig likes to point that out alot.

aaah.... im done... i did this in one sitting.......2 am hitting hard.. well, back to drawing now

@bluespace-skull cuz u wanted a tag :D

[cigarette-stealer]

INTRO POST!!

hi im cig, i wil l stteal your thsjng if they're cool

im a borrrower and i live in. RED base or someghing

tags:

#cig talkz

#cig repliez

#cig reblogz

main acc: @moon-0f-m4rs

cig with mercs (copied from main) :

Scout: She'd very much help him prank spy, often. SImmilar age as he is so just 2 lousy children lmao. She also would take from him alot cuz i feel like scout would have lots of silly trinkets and thingys, but outta respect, just the unwanted things for a change from others. Both r yappers so it always results in some idiotic ideas

Solider: She isnt too ecstatic when he spots her. I mean, she never really tries to be careful to not be seen, but when she hears HALT MAGGOT! she rolls her eyes and sighs. She likes to mess with him, but not too badly like she could. Sometimes when she sees hes makin a medal would give him some stuff she has stored, just cuz why not

Pyro: Arson buds. Crafty buds. Buds. She often goes to him for lighters for her cigarettes. Would like to accompany him in battle once but no respawn chip :( Finds tiny pretty things or even bugs if they're not hostile to her and brings them to him. Poses for his drawings. 1# GUEST AT EVERY TEA PARTY. 10/10 friendship

Demoman: Cig likes to keep him company. Whenever shes bored and theres nothing else to do hes 3rd in list of ppl she goes to. She did try scrumpy from him, brunt her throat, would try again. Most often steals from him cuz shes sure he wouldnt mind, or even notice <33

Heavy: Would sometimes sneak up on him and idk jump from a shelf and land on his shoulder. She finds it funny he gets anxious around tinys as she picked it up from pocket (pocket is canon, i am valve). But shes not doing it like every other day, maybe once a month when she remembers about it. But overall they wouldnt interact that much.

Engineer: Takes things from his workshop alot too, knows hes mad about it, dosent care. Whenever engie sees her, she just says "Shhhh no you didn't" and leaves. If he does catch her, she just starts her yap session which probably results her in just being let go. She doesn't fight him, she just acknowledges him and goes about her way cuz she knows he wouldnt do anything drastic.

Medic: Oohh yeaah thats what we've been waiting forrr!!!!! Their interaction would go like:

cig (stands by an apple): an apple a day keeps the doctor away

medic: i lost my license

cig: oh L lmao

She would always find a way to escape him. Why? I said so :D Cig is actually so confident about herself she would just sit on a shelf and watch him work, maybe even step into his arm reach willingly and mock him. I feel like that tactic would overtime just have him give up on her entirely lol

so yeah she isnt scared, or hates him, shes there to make fun of him

Sniper: Both don't see eachother often, and honestly, she finds sniper boring. He barely socializes, sleeps outside the base in some van, idk odd guy. One time she was just sitting out in the open like nothing and sniper noticed her, both stared and said nothing, and went their ways.

Spy: oooh.. ooooh... they both DESPISE eachother. Hes the 1# hunter for her ass because of the amount of cigarettes she steals. Whenever hes around or when she just feels his presence, she actually hides. Every now and then she will figure out a way to annoy him more. She actually dares to enter his smoking room and mess in it. Spy is also very annoyed by the fact she has managed to avoid him for so long when hes the worlds greatest spy. Cig likes to point that out alot.

for referance:

ehehheeee :D

[kaengeru]

cyberpunk 2077 au ramblings (because you asked for this!!)

(shorthand: streetkid=purple. nomad=cowboy. corpo=monochrome.)

OKAY to start, this is ALL cyberpunk2077!au that ignores the story for the most part. nomad is the only one who is intrinsically tied to the relic plot. the other two have some vague connect to the lifepath background to a point, but otherwise dont end up in the same hole. THEY ARE all around 23/24 at their current state(s). (also: apologies if anyone thought i meant they were actually related - each of them are just a different cyberpunk!au of enya) theres sarah too of course! but im still working on his different designs and he is Not the main character, sorry bud. you will get a snack of him because he is always important to her story <3 GOD. OKAY. ANYWAY. if you know nothing about the game im sorry (my knowledge is only from 2077 and internet research anyway) but here we go!!

streetkid; solo. sante muerte theme. also Purple and/or gold. MAXIMUM chrome. shotguns, sandevistan, mantis blades.

-the most similar to default enya. ANGRY. loud, brash, quick to violence. aggressively hetero. comes off more composed in the downtime between jobs from her excessive confidence. smokes, drinks, drugs, alls fun and fair. lazy grins. head tilts. hands in pockets. baggy pants, tie-front bras, tennis shoes.

-known as rabbit/coneja rather than v, due to a few tattoos, her tendency for jumping fences, jumping onto people, and rabbit-kicking her way out of a tough spot (the chrome she's got makes bone breaking very easy and fun). heywood born and bred. russian/spanish. speaks both fluently but leans heavier on the russian to throw people off (this backfires frequently outside of her immediate neighborhood, where people will often assume she's a scavenger).

-physical embodiment of "why do i hear boss music?". alternates between horror movie villain casually walking after people, or DOOM slayer run-n-gun. thorough, albeit not precise in her work. incapable of subtly or silent tactics. shooting people is way easier than talking to them; will give valentinos the smallest bit of leeway, but so little no one except her can tell. VERY hard to kill. mantis blades are almost exclusively used in tight spots, and even then, if a grenade will do the trick, thats more fun anyways.

-high-functioning cyberpsycho (with a legit diagnosis just in case she does snap, they can make her a nice statistic), virtually no empathy/humanity. very disconnected with her self of self. about 75-80% chrome - including both necessary and for improved functions - with a preference toward (funny enough) subtle or hidden cyberware. WAY heavier than she looks with basal caloric needs being stupid high so she is constantly eating. mostly things she finds (steals) (digs out of the pockets of someone she just killed) etc. her lack of social awareness is most obvious when it comes to food because if it is there, she will take it.

-brief history: mom dies when she's 9 during a bird flu pandemic. dad gets killed when she gets grabbed by some maelstromers for cyberware experiments with a couple other kids at 12. ends up as a violent little street urchin between mandated therapy sessions. starts working simple jobs around 15, largely thefts and such, getting her first hit when she's 17 (though she's already killed her fair share of people). almost all the money she makes is put into upgrading and adding onto her cyberware.

-the sarah connection: her, 17/18. him 19. first contact is she and her "buddies" bullying him into taking his shirt off (to prove he isn't a tyger claw) (because theyre awful). he's new to the city, working as a cook for a local dumpling place that she frequent(ly breaks into to steal food). most similar to default enya/sarah beginnings where she simply will Not leave him alone, though he's more anxious in this realm (for good reason) so she wins out faster.

-he lives in the apartment above the restaurant (owner doesnt because its been broken into numerous times) (guess who) and works a lot, so they often spend their time sitting on the roof and talking. sort of mellows her out, having a comfortable space to explore feelings and whatnot helps process Things, including these weird emotions she gets when she looks at him.

-he dies when shes 21. just gets mugged by a couple guys. closest she comes to a full psychotic break, and likely would of if she hadnt found the culprits in quick succession. theyre left an unrecognizable mess and she's given a friendly warning that the ncpd has her as their prime suspect and she should probably stay out of sight for a while. then streetkid path: goes to atlanta, comes back 2 years later, etc. would probably run into jackie but doesnt work well with others, so, hey, she'll take a free lunch but thats about it.

-dies before her thirties. no blaze of glory etc. just gets gutted in a back alley after finally picking the wrong fight and bleeds out behind a dumpster. she is, surprisingly, fine with this - she's had a pervasive sense of suicidal ideation for a LONG while, but was never going to do it herself, and everyone else sucks at it.

-shoving this info somewhere:

=low INT. has a vague grasp on how to navigate some systems and read a little bit of code, but could much more easily disassemble a deck. that and no people skills. says what needs to be said. impulsive and unpredictable but not unstable. =not a believer in sante muerte, but very much enjoys the concept and messing with valentinos where possible. also was never a part of the tinos, but has a fair number of connections within the gang. =the sort who will roll over to sleep for a couple hours, then get right back to business when she wakes up. not good with quiet or stillness, cannot be alone with her thoughts for an extended period. always has to be doing something.

-im definitely forgetting SOMETHING but this motherfucker is my favorite

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

nomad; techie. flower theme. cowboy. minimal chrome. sniper rifles, berserk, gorilla arms.

-enya-adjacent. the most well-adjust and happiest of the three (ignoring the depression). quiet! straightforward when she does talk, and doesnt talk very much. no silence is awkward (for her). actually finds some humor in how differently people react. comfy bi with a preference for women. smokes, but doesnt drink (anymore), and drugs only when necessary. blank stares. careful deliberation. sleeveless vests, leather chaps, cowboy boots.

-prefers val as she gets older, before just going by v when she starts doing merc work. follows the nomad lifepath pretty directly. born in the NUSA, traveling with the bakkers, etc. has that curiosity toward explosives as a child, up until she fucks around and finds out real quick. loses both arms and left eye, burns mostly on her face and upper chest/shoulder. that was the last time she messed with choo2 and gasoline. instead, shifts her energy toward tinkering with machines and cyberware. the latter she finds more enjoyable, but doesnt have many opportunities to experiment with except for her basic (hand-me-down) implants until she saves up herself for an upgrade.

-almost exclusively uses long-range rifles. highly skilled sharpshooter helped along immensely by her one cyber-eye. many problems can be solved this way, for any that cant, her gorilla arms are deceptively customized to deliver a lot more power than expected. not a boxer but enjoys fighting. doesnt get a lot of sleep, spends her nights doing body weight exercises, fiddling with her arms, reading, trying to meditate. professional to a T. whatever the scope is, she will follow it to the letter. not so much "has to be done right" more "thats what i was told to do"; however, she is prone to leniency. minimal deaths depending on the job and involved gangs. being newer to night city has her grouping gangs, corpos, cops, etc in the same bubble. except for shivs, they all get the bullet.

-"brief" history: mom shot by raffen shiv at 9. while tagging along her first patrol at 12, her dad is killed and she's captured alongside a few others when theyre ambushed by raffen (including another girl, sam). rescued after a week or so of rape and torture. her and sam end up becoming inseparable, bonding over their shared trauma. ends up being useful because she goes mute for a number of years with sam being the only person she talks to. becomes an angry violent teen, getting into a whole host of trouble over the years. between those moments, she helps with mechanic work, insisting she gets a fair trade of pay for her work, saving up for improved cyberware, specifically gorilla arms. violence and trouble get worse for a period after this before she gradually begins to soften (very much helped by her interactions with sarah). spends a lot of time alone, improving and modifying her arms and guns, endless target practice, generally honing her skills and abilities into something useful. works random repair and general modification until she starts legitimate merc work at 18.

-sarah connection: these two are THE sarah/enya pair. he is a traveling monk under a teacher who believes in reaching out to the forgotten of society. but not a bhikkhu (the in-game ones, who are ordained) but a ngakpa (under tibetan buddism). different colored robes and vows. theyll travel, spending a few days in an area before moving on. happy to explain their beliefs (which happens frequently enough), but their only real goal is to converse and learn about others. has a vague rotation so they come around every year or so.

-first runs into him at 16 (him 18, still going through training). distant curiosity a contrast to the rest of the teens. doesnt start bothering him until the next year, finding him when he goes to find a quiet spot to meditate to ask her own batch of questions. seeing as this is sarah dialed up to 11, he has a whole lot of suggestions for her, mostly meditative option. blows him off at face, but ends up following some ideas and finds they actually help.

-sarah is, well, sarah, so she finds him an incredibly comfortable and safe presence. helps her relax and open up more. especially so after they start secretly dating (he isnt that kind of monk, after all). plus, his frequent absences actually brings its own sense of contentment. they get married a couple years later when she's 21.

-since this enya/v follows the game, she does end up in night city, relic, johnny, etc. sarah manages to find her, as he does every year, and what with her whole dying thing, decides he's gonna put off his traveling until she figures it out or, well, dies. he's her rock!! okay!!

-for my own headcanon etc: endgame choice is to have the aldecaldos help out (because of course she'd join them), albeit with a whole host of hesitancy and regret after. the connection in arizona helps out because this bitch deserves a happy ending, dammit. relic and whatnot leaves her with a traumatic brain injury, and after all the shit in night city, both cant and wont do merc work anymore. rather, goes heavy into general mechanic/implant modifications which keeps her busy, well-paid, and content. sarah fully shifts into a householder lifestyle instead of traveling and they live happily ever after fuck u.

-some extra info:

=also low INT, cannot hack to save her life, but her people skills are more refined. more prone to not talking than blurting things out which usually works out for the better. =not a believer in buddism but supportive of her big hubby, and finds some of the practices useful for her own mental health. =has memory dampeners in place a few months after her abduction. part of the reason she doesnt touch alcohol is if she drinks too much, it fucks em up and she gets night terrors. relic eating away at her brain introduces the possibility of the dampeners failing at some random point, so she has those removed. misery and suffering for a brief period but gives her a way to deal with her trauma more directly. =her and sam consider each other what they call friend soulmates. they love and adore each other - which theyre fully aware came about because of the suffering they experienced together - but they wont ever be more than friends (albeit, very, very close ones). sam leaves the bakkers a couple years prior to them disbanding officially, but they both stay in contact.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

corpo; netrunner. monochrome theme. medium chrome. knives, overclock??, monowire.

-baby… baby boy (not really, he's a dick). i do NOT have a solid grasp on his character because the corpo lifepath bores me and i dont like netrunning but i needed someone to fill the role. that and i havent given male!enya (aidan) any real thought. drinks (excessively) but doesnt smoke. casual bi, big flirt, bigger narcissist and ego. pretty standard corpo jackass in the way he talks to people he deems lesser. blackout tattoos. toothy smirks. puppy dog eyes. folded hands. subtle designer clothes. long sleeves, dress pants, combat boots.

-aidan vincent (last name). goes by v/vin/vinny or vincent in general, aidan only with people he's close to. russian/japanese with split citizenship between night city/US and japan.

-NO idea what his "trauma at 12" enya hallmark is, but it does involve someone clawing out his eyes (hence, the scars and implants). was leaning toward one parent being in maxtac, maybe something with a cyberpsycho attack?? dunno yet.

-sarah connection: fem!sarah is seth! specifically sesu in this au as she's based in japan. making my own cyberpunk headcanon where arasoka also is very supportive of traditional entertainment and sports, including sumo. including female sumo because HELL yeh. proves herself and works her way to a higher level. him being involved with arasoka and travel etc. runs into her at a sort of after party. BIG old heart eyes immediately, this boy is a sucker for giant women. takes some work on his end but manages to convince her hes genuine and they have a strong but brief relationship.

-she's the one who ends it - in part, because she knows theyre both trying to focus on their careers, and his work in particular keeps him away more than either of them want. probably also the whole kill-or-be-killed attitude. not her thing.

-he's TOTALLY not bitter and disappointed and mad about this (< lying to himself constantly). overcompensates in his treatment toward others, flirting, and hookups.

-the random bits im making up as i type:

=NO clue on his future. dies sometime in thirties probably, something like he has a hit put out on him by a younger corpo and has gotten to the point of hardly caring so he gets caught off guard. unhappy but resigned. =high INT but people dumb. when he's got less of a stick up his ass, it's fairly obvious he's a himbo. extremely so when he likes the other person. =when he's not diving through the net and experimenting with backdoors and various ICEbreakers, he enjoys knife throwing. will happily play circus act when he gets drunk enough, but otherwise, the knives dont come out unless he aims to hurt someone. has a surprising number on him at all times from having an excessive amount of hidden sheaths stitched into his clothes.

-bonus fun fact about aidan: would unironically call himself a short king (he's 6 feet tall).

(if any of you actually managed to read through my brainrot, you deserve a prize holy shit i love u <3)

[a-v-j]

Akills and Hryxy rp-turn-to-short-fic

Content warning:

Blood, swearing, mention of killing, not really polished fic so the format can be a bit wonky, self-harm/mutilation

Written by @nyxus-nyx and me

enjoy~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2: Lets play

Akills=italic Hryxy=bold

"…"

"I sometimes like when mine put on a good fight…i mean, I know me, but i have something they dont have. I have tactic, i have strategy… sometimes it irks me how i could easily kill them… considering they are me…" "Heh pathetic"

He leans back a bit by that, averting his eyes somewhere else.

"…"

"Lets talk about our dislikes…for me, i hate red"

Hryxy chuckles. “I dislike white..”He shrugged as he picked at his teeth once more.

"heh, funny" Slightly gesturing at himself, he himself is mostly wearing all white

“Nah.. i like your white..” He guves a small grin as he thinks of more things.

“I dislike.. Seeing other me’s happy..”

"…-"

Akills was caught off guard

".. that's… that's why I've started killing…"

"I hated how they get to be happy…like im… anything less…"

A very faint memory started to stir into his mind, he suddenly felt a bit dizzy

”Interesting.. i feel you there.. but you good bud..?””

He tilts his head his neck popping as he does this watching the skeletons face change a lil.

"…"

Akills jerked and immediately had his hand where his cracked eye socket is as if it's hurting. He hissed a little

"..y-yeah, yeah. Im fine…i just- i just need to…eeeEEAARGHH!"

He quickly stood up and summoned his knifes, directing to a distance. Each plunging to the ground with extreme sharpness, the simultaneous sound of the knives made an echo through the room

He breathe heavily after his outburst and after he calmed down, he look towards Hryxy with a very calm expression

"…sorry.."

"I hate emotions, had to let off steam…"

Hryxy tilts his head and chuckles. He stands up and walks to Akills. ”Stop peeking my interest short-ass..”

He offers his claw, his creepy grin plastered across his face. He laughs a little at Akills position.

“Dork.”

Akills considered swiping the helping hand away but held on to it anyway.

"Isnt that the point of this whole shtick tho?"

“Nah. I think they just want us to get along.” He helps him up with ease and lets his hand go. Not a big fan on touch.

“So.. what now.”

"..hmmm…"

He silently survey the placed, eyeing his surrounding.

"Well, there's still no way out. We haven't interacted enough"

"…"

"Wanna play rocks-papers-scissors?"

”Whats that..?”

He stared in curiosity.

Akills gave a smirk

"You definitely didn't had a good childhood"

"Anyways, each of us takes a hand…place it on the ground, we take our knives out and we stab the spaced between our fingers. And it must be done as hard and fast as possible in one minute"

"Those who still have the most fingers wins"

He nonchalantly instructed

Hryxy grins. And grins widely.

“Oooh.. ive done this before..”

He pulls out his dagger.

Akills' opens his hand and summoned his own knife. He then place his other hand on the ground. He look at Hryxy

"Ya ready?"

He nods as he readys his hand raised over his other.

Akills raised the knife, gripped it tightly and he locked eyes with Hryxy, grinning like a mad man.

"One minute…ready…GO!!!"

He began to stab down on the ground where his hand his at an incredible speed

Hryxy laughs as he goes faster and faster.

“Fuckin finally..!”

He liked the thrill of losing a finger. As he was going faster and faster he made his claw turn normal and human like.

Akills loves the rush he was feeling right now, he locks eyes with Hryxy and he went faster and harder(whoops this is not a smut fic)

He's not paying attention to where he was stabbing at all and his intense staring is him urging the other to take it to a harder challenge.

He twitched a smirk as he felt a quick spike, he stabbed on the tip of his pinky, it's still hanging to the rest of his hand but a good twist will break it off

Hryxy glares with a sickening smirk as he looked at Akills.

“Looks like you lost part of ya finger bud..”

His hand grew faster maching Akills pace(No smut.) and closed his finger closer together for the challenge.

"still have the whole thing attached, it doesn't count"

He retorted as he kept stabbing faster and faster, accepting Hryxy's challenge. He drew his finger closer together, narrowly missing his thumb.

Hryxy chuckles as his speed picked up

“Ya think you could beat me bud..?”

Akills grinned menacingly but soften into a normal grin.

"I pity you so badly i might just let you win"

He said in mild sarcasm

”We’ll see short-ass.”

He laughs as he opens his mouth to let out breathe and salvating as he opens it.

“This is childs play.”

"he he he"

Akills took that as a challenge and jabbed real hard, actually slicing off his whole ring finger. He twitch a bit, smiling sharply as he spoke

"Whoops, looks like youre gonna win, Frankenstein"

Hryxy huffs as he chops off two of his fingers. Black blood splatters on his dagger a bit.

“Oh no.. lost my fingers..”

He laughs.

"oh no you don't"

"Youre" Stab "Gonna" Stab "Win" Stab

"Like a sore winner you are"

With all that, he finally lost his pinky, mutilated his point and thumb and sliced a portion of his actual hand

He kept stabbing and staring at Hryxy, he's not gonna back out now Hryxy chops off hus whole hand.

“You win.”

He laughs.

"FUCK"

Akills growled as he push in one last hard stab, cutting his thumb off. He raised his mutilated hand, showing only his middle finger left. Accidentally on purpose flipping Hryxy off

[okthatsgreat]

So this one may be hard since it feels like your ocs are catered specifically to the V3 meta timeline, but it popped into my head anyways. How would your ocs act as Remnants of Despair? Let's say Team Danganronpa's doing something and needs to make them Remnants (probably for a gacha game, spend 50 for a chance to get Remnant Naomi)

OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD FUCKING FANTASTIC QUESTION im bouncing up and down. this is so cool. A GACHA GAME IS SO FUNNY TOO like the idea that danganronpa is looking to make some money on the side so theyre like Whatever. throw ryobe into genshin impact. who gives a shit anymore

here they are at their edgiest 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

IN A LIST OF LEAST DANGEROUS TO MOST DANGEROUS I RECKON. COULD BE KIND OF A FLIMSY RANKING LMFAO

billie: scrawny fifteen-year old kid with no talent or charisma. you'll be so fine. worst case scenario it's some kind of izuru 2.0 best case scenario she's not even there in the first place. likely doing the family guy death pose somewhere

mika: another ultimate lucky student who won't be able to do a whole lot. definitely got a lottttt more edge to her than billie does, can definitely be ruthless but can't hold much influence and doesn't have any relevant skills. she's either in hiding or she's made friends with another remnant and kept herself safe that way

yoshito: just a fucked up guy honestly. his entire ultimate revolves around helping people so i can definitely see him taking advantage of this amount of trust he has accumulated and getting a lot of people into some deep shit but eventually they'll learn his tricks and he'll be a lot less immediately dangerous. definitely a behind the scenes kind of guy can't see him being super influential or anything. honestly i don't even think he's a team leader in this scenario i think he just let's all of them go off on their own GHFDKJG they're probably ALL on each others asses

rie: can't realllyyyyy think of a whole lot for her... this is not to say she isnt extremely persuasive and able to get her way but she is more of a figurehead for despair. an extremely well-spoken salesperson in that regard, very charming and probably on a lot of billboards already. i reckon this is a similar situation to sonia but on a much smaller scale, probably does public speaking kind of events and turns people to despair that way, is definitely somebody to be wary of but you can take her in a fight easy. her bodyguards not so much

naomi: you are not running from this girl. she can reach you anywhere and knows how to use a firearm. its either you learn how to fight better than an athlete with a shotgun or youre dead bud. she is extremely independent though so that is a bonus for you

sae: the only reason she is higher than naomi here is she is a lot stronger and knows a lotttt of hunting tactics that can definitely land you in hot water. you'll really need to brush up on avoiding traps because if she catches you in a position where you arent able to run youre fuuuuuckkeddd. unless you are strong it'll be really really difficult defeating her in any sort of hand to hand combat, especially in this despair scenario where she is genuinely not holding back. the one saving grace with sae is she is not dexterous at all so if youre a good runner with a lot of stamina or hell even a more dexterous fighter you'll maybe be ok

erin: ok so she's probably not the most IMMEDIATELY dangerous person, like if you approach her while shes alone with any kind of weapon you'll probably win. but shes this high up just because the implications of her ultimate talent being turned to despair is actually kinda horrifying. like shes a CHILDREN'S ENTERTAINER. she's most persuasive on KIDS. there are many scenarios that can happen here but all of them involve children so immediately all of them are horrible hgfjkgdhsk. could very very honestly turn into something similar to monaca's plan, attacking her will be pretty difficult considering she has a lot of kids hostage

ryobe: evil mr beast. the worst parts of erin and rie and hell even sae combined. has millions of followers who will do literally anything for him, sets out hundreds upon thousands of death traps everywhere he goes. will absolutely 100% throw more ultimate talents into killing games just for good content. catch him alone and you could probably kill him but you will NEVER catch him alone because he is constantly surrounded by people who can and will die for him while also torturing you for views so good luck

andi: most likely wouldn't be there but just for fun andi but SUPER evil (like. somehow even more evil than she already was) is bad news. super bad news. andi being there means that you are likely in some virtual reality type of scenario which means she has complete and total control over everything around you, everything you eat and drink, and everything you experience. she's a rule-oriented machine so the scenario depends on whether or not she's been given instructions, but quite honestly you'd WANT this to be an instruction-less andi cuz she'd kill you quick

[cheshirecaine]

Ichigo! For the character Ask Game!

Ichigo! I got excited and started linking my fics like I had to prove my answers. Honestly, it’s just making me realise what things I like that I haven’t written(/finished ;-;;;).

How I feel about this character

Deserves the best—love him. I feel like by default, we or maybe just I, tend to pick a favourite character from the cast minus the main character (‘Who’s your favourite Bat? Batman doesn’t count’). So I’ve always considered it a funny little testament to Ichigo’s likability that a list of my fave Bleach characters will always include this guy.

Hot as shit, smarter than he’s given credit.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Grimmjow OTP. Rukia. Sometimes Shinji. But he’s the fandom bicycle, so I’m very open on this front—e.g. Aizen, several Gin fics, a hastily thrown-together Soifon fic (NSFW, 700w), Byakuya.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Isshin—I don’t care if I’m boring. I love this canon father-son relationship and no moment in Bleach ever breaks me as hard as the Fullbringer Arc scene where Ichigo thinks his dad has betrayed him too.

Honourable mentions: Kurosaki family wildness (1k, I do actually write fic sometimes okay). Ichigo/Renji brotp (or romantically). Ichigo/Kon—underrated brothers (gets a mention in the Kurosaki family fic). Chad. Actually, I love writing fics where Ichigo gets DMC’d by Shinji (exhibit: one of my fave parts of this 3k Ginjo/Ichigo fic is pretending it’s about pies when it’s actually Shinji therapising Ichigo and accidentally himself).

My unpopular opinion about this character

I can’t enjoy grimdark/Fuck you World and especially my Dad and Comrades But Mostly My Dad!Ichigo depictions. Which is fine, that just means I’m not the target audience. However, this is my post, and I’ll soapbox if I want to, so here’s: My Unpopular Opinion about Bleach Fanon.

Vengeful versions of him don’t make sense to me beyond an in-the-moment Hollowfied rage situation. Frankly, his struggle to commit in battle to killing Aizen really hammers in just how much he is not at all in it to hurt people. He beat Grimmjow in a fight and then saved his life while injured. He spent his entire final fight with Aizen sombre about having to kill a man whose heart he fully understood.

And yeah, I don’t really think it’s a failure of canon to not have him idk sit down with everyone he knows and say “You were mean to me”, cos I think fandom has a very selective memory and lens with which they approach a text/story.

Like, I don’t think Ichigo stumbles into relationships eyes shut, I think he is incredibly aware and able to be vulnerable. Kinda like that Doctor Who quote: “Do you think that I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?” Except it’s him letting Ukitake not disclose what the badge does, not interrogating his dad on what he’s doing with Urahara, being determined to help Rukia and Orihime and frankly Renji and more in spite of their opinions on it.

Anyway, I love him.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

More skilful fighting that isn’t just a big panel spread and power—sorry Kubo. More of the tactical close-combat fighting or the tricks Zangetsu taught him. Boy’s a genius, lemme see that shit.

Alternatively, would accept Grimmjow meeting DILF!Ichigo and having a conniption.

Thanks for the q, bud <3

[zukkacore]

It’s been SO LONG since I’ve posted about sorcerogue teacher buds but enfolding the Eugenia n Jace long term friendship into “I can’t, I tried” based on Jace of all people finding the rogue teacher in his own junior year and being this close to rogue multiclassing (I mean, an A for the entire year with no work? Enticing) and blindsiding everyone including Eugenia by taking on Wizardry instead and completely wiping out. And all that backstory being something that KC finds out about in complete disbelief bc before then she refused to take any of his suggestions on rogue tactics seriously. Is so funny to me. Jace found the rogue teacher? Jace did? And he’s like. What, like it’s hard?