#grey's writing tag

[greyias]

[senoleaf]

here's some Hypno's Lullaby / Pokepasta characters in my style

some of my headcanons below!

Steven: 24 years old; 190 cm / 6'3''

- Haunted by a hallucination of his dead brother that constantly reminds him of his misdeeds

- Fluctuates between a completely corrupted state (shadowed skin + red eyes) due to MissingNo.'s influence and a semi-conscious state (shadowed eyes) in which he sometimes gets lucid enough to question what happened that day

Glitchy RED: 26 years old; 182 cm / 6'0''

- Face always half hidden by shadows

- Despises people abusing glitches or bugs and thus despises Steven

- Always looks serious

Grey: 16 years old; 167 cm / 5'6''

- Constantly nervous

- Somewhat scared of (Glitchy) Red but also looks up to him since he's from "the original game"

Shinto:

- Mischievous

- Despises people cheating through any means, including glitches and bugs

- She found out that Grey is actually a real human's soul forced to possess the player character of their game and thus believes his "cheating" to be his human soul simply not adhering to game rules, allowing him to catch her by accident

- Has taken a liking to Grey and will (unbeknownst to him) protect him from people intending to cause harm

- Still scares him sometimes for fun

(Monochrome) Gold: 19 years old; 170 cm / 5'7'' (when alive)

- Is incapable of actually dying, constantly stuck in a state of pain

- Sometimes the Unown within him will take over his body for whatever reason, otherwise they will function like a hive mind allowing him to see through their eyes and float with their help

(- This was caused by Steven, corrupted by the glitch MissingNo. after Gold had found him in the Bellsprout Tower)

(Insomnia) Silver: 20 years old; 175 cm / 5'9''

- Skin covers his mouth keeping him from speaking

- He can cut/rip it open, but it will grow back in around a minute

(- This was caused by Steven, corrupted by the glitch MissingNo. after Silver confronted him seeing what he had done to Gold)

Mike: 4 years older than Steven, (28 years old); 180 cm / 5'11''

- A remorseful spirit incapable of moving on, bound to Steven after his death

- Contrary to the hallucination Steven is seeing, Mike can only be perceived by Gold

- Furthermore he is convinced that the person who killed him wasn't his brother / that something had forced him to do it

[ineffably-graham]

hannibal did not repeatedly demonstrate that he would let will do anything he wanted with him, moan while tied up after being told will sent a guy to kill him, turn his head and lean sensually on his fridge while will pointed a gun at him, and lay on the floor after being shot while looking into will's eyes and posing like a renaissance painting for the fandom to decide hannibal is a christian grey type dom.

[faededaway]

[𝕊𝕒𝕟𝕠 𝕄𝕒𝕟𝕛𝕚𝕣𝕠 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣]

[warning: exhibitionism, pvp, fem reader, bike race mention, cumshot] [inspiration]

Manijo, Manjiro

After everything in his life, he wishes he could say he's calmed down a bit. But, he picked the life of midnight races and adrenaline, and you.

You, the other adrenaline rush in his life. The one who keeps him high at all times. You, who like him for what he's got. His dirty mouth and worse mannerism doesn't bother you one bit. If anything, it keeps pulling you to him.

He saw you at one of street races he'd gone to watch. He'd gone just to get a scope of the competition of an upcoming race. But you caught his eye with your jeans shorts and flag wrapped around your chest.

"She's the flag girl, dude. She'll take it off to wave it! You can see her tits when the race starts!" He was surprised to hear more whispers about you than any about the racers. But that meant no one here was worth watching than you were.

Maybe I'll give you something worth watching.

He'd strolled over to you with hands in his pockets, "is it true?"

You'd barely spared him a glance before he continued, "that everyone here sucks so bad, the showrunners stole your clothes?"

You'd glared at him but kept your eyes on the racers who were taking their positions.

"How much are they paying you? I could pay you double and give you some clothes," he leaned on pole you were standing next to, wearing his signature grin.

"Why don't you fuck off instead? Shut up and watch like the other bozos who've never touched a bike but talk like they're Steve McQueen or something."

He laughed off your remark and proposed, "wanna ride with me? Be the flag girl that wins the race?"

You finally looked at him to tell him off again, but the confidence in his eyes stopped you. Your eyes wandered over to the memorabilia on his jacket, you recognized him then. He's the guys everyone's been talking about. The one who wins every race.

"What's someone like you doing here?"

"What's someone like you doing here?" He parroted the question back to you.

You glared at him and looked away. The digital timer on the side was counting down to the start of the race. 30 seconds to start.

“Okay,” he laughed, “'m here to see how much I'll need to hold back to save these guys from embarrassing themselves in their next race.”

You sighed at that. It was embarrassing working here. It doesn't help that he was right on the money about the show runner situation too.

He laughed again, pissing you off further. 20 seconds to start.

“If you agree to ride with me, I'll enter the race. That's bound to make you some money, right?” 10 seconds to start.

That's not how this works but it would help your brother the show runner make some much needed cash. 5 seconds.

“You better win.” Go.

He'd won, of course. He's not sure if there was a prize involved in this race. To him, you were the prize. You'd laughed and cheered the whole way of the race. Your arms were wrapped tightly around his waist. Your flimsy top(that you did not wave as a flag) let him feel the warmth of your body over his leather. You'd even asked him to speed up at times. You loved speed just like he did. He loved hearing your giggles in his ear with the song of the wind. He knew this could not be a one time thing.

"Don't stop, I know a spot nearby," you whispered in his ear when he crossed the finished line. He followed as if it was a command.

The spot you spoke of was a rundown gas station with a back alley that seemed to be a popular place for a different kind of ride. "This was so we don't do the whole 'my place or yours' or the 'who pays?' thing."

"I wouldn't mind taking you on the streets, an alleyway seems fancy." His hands ran down your body as you giggled in reply.

He pulled off your clothes in one pull, "if this is what they saw before the race began, they'd be crashing into things." His lips sucked on your chest ravenously. Red and purple lined his touch on your skin.

His leather jacket hung on your shoulders, your back pressed to the wall of the alleyway that anyone could walk into. Even if no one walked over, they'd hear your mewls and whines for sure. Mikey didn't seem to care and neither did you.

His hands didn't leave your body even for a second. One hand played with you chest, while the other did the same to your pussy. His fingers would ghost over your stiff buds right after he'd pinched and pulled at them. His mouth followed the same 'soft one moment, hard the other' pace - pecking you one moment, sucking your skin the other.

Your legs wrapped around his waist. You felt his hardness on your stomach. You would have touched him if his touch relented, but his pace only let you cling onto him harder. A hand deep in his hair, the other clutching his shirt. He hadn't even put it in yet and you'd already scratched his back.

"Mikey, c'mon!"

He only stopped when you begged him for it. Laughter bubbled in his chest and you felt it in yours too. He's unlike any man you had previously. Any other man would've stuffed your face already but he touched you to please you.

"Put it in, baby." His hands moved to your waist, finally giving you a moment to do what you'd been wanting to do since getting on his bike.

You palmed him over his leather to get a feel for him before revealing the real package. Hot. Hard as fuck. Pulsating and hot.

He rolled his hips into your palm, rubbing himself into the warmth of your hands. "Ah, fuck!"

Mikey's whining wasn't any quieter than yours. You let in sooner than him. A moment's grace before you undo his buttons and look down at him.

Sticky wetness dripped from his pretty pink tip. You thumbed some of it and brought it to your lips. "Someone's keeping you well fed. Wouldn't mind throat-"

A deep thrust interrupted your dirty words. "Want your pussy today, baby."

Your hands returned to his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts choked the breathe out of your lungs. Each one as deep as the first one, but like his ride, he didn't do slow.

He'd avoided fingering you earlier, teasing your clit relentlessly. Your aching pussy throbbed with him in it. It loved the filling it was receiving. Slick dripped down your lips and made a mess on his blacks.

"Fuck, Mikey, Mikey, Mikey, slow down!" you weren't sure if you'd be able to keep up anymore before losing it.

"Are we nearing a curve, baby? Are we losing it? Hm? Are we gonna cum?" he slowed down like you asked but just a moment later, "let it lose, baby. Cum with me."

He groaned as he thrust in you for the last time, his dick throbbed in you before filling you with his warm sticky cum. Your body attuned to his play, came as asked.

A cacophony of your moans and whines filled the alleyway as the two of you came off of your high.

"Whew, someone call the janitor. Clean up in the cum-alley."

Your noise attracted some people, but with your back to the wall and Mikey before you, they couldn't see you.

"You look like you'd like to clean it up yourself." Mikey wrapped his jacket on your chest before taking out your shorts from his pocket.

"Nah, we're good. Hearing y'all was good enough for me. Just wanted to come over and see the goods f'myself, that's all."

Lucky for you, they'd walked away as you got dressed. But being caught with Mikey in your pussy felt -

"Felt you throb around me when they caught us, baby. Maybe next time, I really will take you on the streets." He'd tucked himself back in and was wiping your slick off his crotch with your flag top. His eyes bore into yours, a sly grin on his lips.

You'd laughed as you walked out of the alley and to his bike. "I felt you, too."

And that is how Mikey became your ride for life.

[creativesplat]

I would also like to see some miphlink, if that's okay!

I was really struggling with what to draw, and then I remembered your ask from ages ago (dang ADHD brain...) anyway, sorry its such a late answer, but Miphlink inspired by Dicksee's La Belle Dame

[i-am-beckyu]

In the Hands of my Tormentor

Yelloooooo! Been a lil bit since I've posted any writing! Been a bit hard getting much written with life and work at the moment but I had this random g/t thought and ran with it to get this lil fic. So enjoy another random oc created for the purpose of this fic lol.

Premise: You've been transported to another world where giants see humans as lesser and have ended up the pet of a Count.

cw: Fear, fear of death, fatal scenes mentioned, panic, mentions of being eaten alive, death mentions (no one dies tho), anxiety, torture, manipulation. Just the opposite of what I usually post lol. wc: 2318

Terror. 

That’s all I could feel as I watched in horror as the giant noble scarfed down their meal. Giant fangs tearing through meat 100x my size, as if it was sliced bread. I forced myself to not react as I heard them swallow, knowing full well should they tire of me- their pet, I may very well be the next one sliding down that wretch’s throat. 

In this world, Giants didn’t see anything smaller than them as intelligent. If you were found, the lucky ones either died or were crushed between teeth as big as boulders like food. And if you think ‘How’s that lucky?! That’s horrid!’ Be glad you’re not the one being digested alive.

But even that was a mercy compared to my fate. 

Every day I tread the thin line of a tightrope; a timer hanging over my head. Forced to live life as a performance, every step perfect in order to please my Master.

“TWIRL!” He’d demand.

“JUMP!” He’d spit.

“SING!” He’d sneer- and I’d do it without hesitation or face death itself.

For as humiliating as it was, being ‘keep’ worthy; even for a derogatory laugh, it was better than being deemed useless and ready for brutal discarding. And with how little manic glee he’d been having with me lately, that may be sooner than not. For if I have no worth, what’s stopping them from doing away with me?

Tonight I was on display at another one of their dinner parties. Parties they threw more to show their class standing and possessions than for company. Sometimes I’d be in a cage forced to sing like a songbird, other times I’d be kept on the table with a ribbon clamped around my ankle to perform tricks or be petted by gloved fingers.

The guests would often have varying responses at my presence.

“Such a rare delicacy humans are and you're wasting it as a pet?”

“What a wretched little thing it is. Why not just eat it and be done?”

“As amusing as it is, why keep it around when it’s a better snack?”

After a while, you learn to tune out the loud voices. It’s just a reminder I’m only seen as food, insignificant, a pest. I only listen to the Master's voice. He’s the only one that matters. I sit just to his right today. The ribbon on my ankle is too tight, and I can feel the way my foot has started to go numb from the lack of blood flow. I look at it absentmindedly, the phantom pain of a blade forced against an angry scar, throbs against the ribbon. Strange I can’t feel my foot and yet still feel the pain of past escapes. I stopped trying a long time ago. Better to submit then endure his sick pleasures again.

I try not to think about the will I’ve given up; the life I’ve submitted to and try to listen to the giants conversing overhead.

Had it not been for the size difference and ignorance to the obvious, the giants were just like us. Take away all the power-hungry madness and torture of the little guy and the giants were just like humans if they were living in a medieval fantasy. Perhaps in another world, I would have been one of the guests…

“Dance, Human.” Master demands, and I stand and let my body move the way I know it pleases the giant. I don’t even think about the steps anymore, I just let myself move as if I were a robot programmed with the steps.

The giants above me laugh, clap and snicker. I know I’ve done my dance right. They’re all talking around the table, some whispering to each other with cruel gazes locked on my form. Others are spitting profanities at me and joking to my Master about making me do more tricks. 

There was only one giant that didn’t seem interested in my suffering. They sat at the opposite end of the table silently, and hadn’t moved much beyond drinking from their cup. I didn’t pay them much mind. One less giant drooling over me was a blessing. 

I let their voices blend together as I continued to move, the only voice I was listening for was my Masters, and I knew he was grinning ear to ear with all the attention on his greatest possession. 

His rare and desirable human.

“Now sing.” He says sickeningly sweet and my mouth obeys as I sing old scales used to warm up my voice whilst I continue to dance.

He never said I could stop.

I don’t know how long this continued for, the time always blurred together with every order and step at these events. All I know is the giants are enjoying it for the time being and all hungry eyes are on me. I will do as they want till I’m so desirable, that Master snatches me away- just teasing the lessers with what they can’t have. I can see the manic glee in their eyes at being so close to myself. I know what they want, and I scold my expression to not let the fear show on my face. 

My legs ached, but I pushed on; my voice wasting away from overuse. Everything was starting to burn from the effort it took to do both. I sang a long high note and began to spin, a bad combo but my brain was on autopilot. How much longer till I collapse?

“Stop.” Master demanded; my saving grace but not by much. I stopped immediately, finishing the pirouette and ceasing my song. I didn’t dare move despite my labored breathing, fully aware that the command wasn’t just for me, for in the corner of my eye I saw it. 

An outstretched white, gloved hand reached for me- and it was not my Masters.

That was all that was said before the ribbon around my ankle yanked me back, sending me tumbling forward as I was reeled in. I kept my head down, biting my tongue to stop myself from screaming as I felt the glazed wooden table burn against my hands and knees as I was dragged. My performance was done. And so was the fool of a giant that had tried to take me. 

Or so I thought.

Giants had tried to take me from Master before that was a given, but I was his snack (as he liked to remind me) and those that had tried to take what was his, had been dragged out shrieking. But this one had the room silent. Someone with a demanding presence other than my Master had the room freeze.

“So Ed,” 

“That’s Count Edwin, to you.” Master spat at the other Giant.

“May I remind you who the Duke is here, Count Edwin.” the Duke replied nonchalantly, taking a sip of his drink. I saw the way the Master's hand tensed at the notion. 

He was irritated. 

Very few had the nerve to undermine him and make it out unscathed. So far nothing had happened to this Duke, which made him a threat.

“I understand you invited me here tonight to make a deal.” The Duke asked.

“Yes, that’s correct.” The grit in the Master's voice confirmed my suspicions. He’d interrupted his showing off. They were treading on thin ice. 

“I wish to put a natural water irrigation system to my crops from the south river. The river in question however, borders the edge of your land and in order for me to utilize it, would require access to your land.”

“And you want me to allow your filthy hands access to my river.” The Duke remarked.

Master's hand tightened on his utensils. Whoever this man was really had the Giant getting into a tizzy, which was never good for me. For all the time that I’d been here, it was very rare that anyone dared to go up against Master, let alone insult him. I felt a slight sense of justice from the thought. Even if it would never be me to do it, at least someone would knock them off their high horse.

I couldn’t help but glance up to see what such a person looked like and was surprised by what I saw. It was the uninterested giant from before.

Just like their attitude, the Giants' features matched their blunt, cold attitude. Jet black, side swept hair and dressed in a navy blue velvet coat, adorned with gold trims and fine sapphires bigger than my head, the Duke- the most regal man I’d ever seen in all my life, was listening to my Master with an icy cold stone stare. 

The man seemed bored of this tedious exchange and I could tell their patience was beginning to run thin as my Master blabbered on and on about the Giants river.

I wondered how long the fire would build behind the Duke’s eyes before their tolerance met its peak, and would put my Master in their place. For once I was glad they paid me no mind.

“I have much gold to offer in return for the river and with the greater yields we would produce, I’m happy to offer 5% of the total harvest.” Master’s smile curled into a grin as they folded their hands. They did that whenever something they wanted was about to go their way.

I averted my gaze back to my feet at this. They always got mad when they caught me staring. How sad I knew what his tells were.

“While your offer is good Edwin, as a Duke with the amount of land I have, your offer is insignificant to me. Why give you access to my river when I produce five times the amount you yield in a year?”

Master lost his composure at that, clearly not expecting such a response. Unsurprising when he acts like a toddler who has never been told no. “Well yes but-” 

“If you expect me to share such a precious resource, I expect a greater sum.” The Duke cut him off. “Or an offer with something of rarity to actually compensate for the price. Something like…” 

No. No, he can’t mean…

The duke took a sip from his cup as if contemplating, but only a fool didn’t know he’d already made up his mind the second he set eyes on me.

“That human.”

The Duke slammed the cup down, hitting the table with a clink as my head shot up and snapped straight to the Duke, my worst fears confirmed reality. The Duke’s ice blue eyes bore into my small figure. If I thought my grubby Master was scary then the Duke was sheer terror. 

His eyes pierced my very soul pinning me in place, and I stared straight back, unable to hide the terror on my face despite the consequences. Though it could have just been adrenaline, I swear I saw their eyes soften when they noticed my expression change, though it did little to put me at ease. His presence was terrifying and it hit me then why the room was so quiet. Why Master was so mad he had no control over this Giant.

This was a man with power.

I knew if I was what it wanted, then no one would be stupid enough to say no twice. Everyone in the room knew what his eyes were locked on. 

“You want me to trade my human, for access to the river?” The Count replied as he dragged me closer, pulling me away from my terror. “That hardly seems fair seeing how incredibly rare and delightful they are. It’s just about bored me enough that I'm peckish. I love to break their spirits just enough that they’re kicking and screaming to the end.” 

At this, I was flung into the air with a yelp before the Count caught me in a harsh grip. I cried out in pain as he squeezed my ribs tight to the point I was sure they’d break.

“It would be a waste to let all this time go to not enjoy them myself.”

“It’s the human or nothing.” The Duke insisted. “You have nothing more that I want.”

I risked looking up at the Duke again, the fire in his eyes seemed to have tripled. “It’s as you said, humans are incredibly rare. Are they truly worth a yearly supply of better income?”

My Masters hand began to squeeze tighter around me and I’m only lucky that the air had been forced out of my lungs enough before I could scream. His anger being directed on the only thing he could control in the moment, only for the pressure to leave as quickly as it came and I found myself falling.

“Deal.” 

And that was the only warning I had before everything flashed a violent white. My whole body was in complete and utter agony and yet I couldn’t even scream. I could feel silent tears dripping down my face as my vision began to dance with black blurry spots. This is where I died.

Everything felt cold, until it wasn’t. 

I felt myself engulfed in pure warmth as careful hands moved and cradled my broken body. I could hear muffled voices shouting and moving before the slamming of a door ceased all else. Dark blobs broke in between the black and I knew deep down I was in the Duke’s hands, but the soft warmth they provided blurred all other judgment. I hadn’t been warm- truly warm since I’d been brought here, and yet somehow I was now at ease. 

Perhaps it was just my mind twisting the truth as a last mercy to let me die peacefully.

“Rest now,” A voice whispered over head as the world faded to black. “I’ve got you now.” 

Funny how my mind could create such a promise after so much pain…

✩₊˚.⋆⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆⋆⁺₊✧

Don't worry, the Duke's actually the good guy in this lol. I have it head cannoned that he fixes them all up and helps them get home.

I may write onto this, I might not who knows! The fact I've written in a different pov to me is wild though! Thank you to squishy, xyz and especially munchkin for beta reading this. (Seriously savior on my grammar qwp) Thank you if you read this far and I hope you enjoyed!!!!

Tag List Link here: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @crazyfoxgirl10 @guppybubbles

(also side note: other wips are still being written. I am aware JORNOS has not updated in months but it's not been forgotten <3)

[redbootsindoriath]

Apparently in my absence this post had its 1000-notes-iversary.

This time we get to see the culprit responsible for ruining our heroes' lives as well.

I've really missed you guys, by the way. I know I've said that already, but I'm serious. Once or twice this year I've been right on the brink of coming back but schedule stuff always keeps me from letting myself commit to that again, and that in turn has kept me from posting anything at all. But I've been in an unexpected drawing mood lately and so if I can get enough stuff to set up a queue we might pretend I'm back for a month or so sometime this year. Maybe. Hopefully. We'll see. No promises though. That's why I'm hiding this paragraph under the cut.

Transcription:

[Beren:] "Uhhh...barkeep...I think he's had enough now..." [Tolkien:] "No, I don't think he has...!"

[stormxpadme]

Anyone's sent today's Wolverine issue to Brevoort yet? You know since he keeps on yapping how the throuple is lacking evidence especially in recent issues LOL. This is exactly what the starving throuple fans deserved. It's not EVERYTHING of course, because this is still Marvel, but you can read it however you like and they didn't just retcon it from orbit as was at some point rumored. These panels make me mighty emotional, and now I'm ready to write ALL the throuple and scogan things for pride month :D.

[papakhan]

I swear if I see another post in the fnv main tag about how Arcade would actually be okay with Boone murdering children and arguing that those children are actually dangerous threats who deserve to be shot because "Oh he said he feels for the soldiers in one ambient voice line and also his parents are war criminals 😇😇"

Arcade's whole story is about his baggage and discomfort with his family being violent fascist war criminals. Like. it's literally his entire quest. The only reason he comes up with defences for them is because he's seen the good in them, and even that gets him feeling conflicted. Let's not forget Arcade will join the courier in KILLING Orion Moreno if he can't let go of the Enclave's ideals, he will literally kill this close family friend. Arcade will literally open fire on The Courier who gleefully activates Archimedes. Arcade will berate and yell at a Legion-aligned courier until he thinks its not worth it anymore. Arcade is Not kind to war criminals or fascists.

Boone saying shit like this?

You really think Arcade is going to feel even a little bit charitable or merciful after hearing THAT come from Craig's mouth? don't make me laugh. Arcade is absolutely not the fucking guy to be like "Actually killing children might be justified" I don't fucking care what his ambient line says.

[firestorm09890]

made a powerpoint presentation about ienzo/zexion at 1 in the morning last night

[greyias]

Writing Share Tag

I'm so far behind in tags and stuff! I have spent most of the summer for some reason in a fugue just staring off into the distance for some reason. But! I have summoned my brain a little to answer at least one! Tagged by @starknstarwars -- thank you for the tag! Anyone who wants to share, please feel free to tag yourself in.

I'm just as behind on my writing as I am on my tags, and I genuinely can't remember if I shared any of this previously, but here's a little bit from the half-finished next chapter of the forever WIP that is Smoke and Mirrors. The fic I will probably be slowly writing on until my grave despite that it has a very clear ending in mind.

Dusk had settled across the Mercantile Plaza in full by the time Theron arrived back at the safehouse. The cool, blue-tint of the streetlights dogged Theron’s steps as he darted through alleys and backstreets. It wasn’t a straightforward path, mostly as a way to throw his potential tail off the track and keep the location of his temporary base hidden. Given that the Plaza was basically a small island, there was only so far he could go to do so, but he’d doubled back several times, and took a few extra twists and turns just to be sure he’d shaken the Sith.

By the time he’d slipped into the safehouse door and pulled up the surveillance feeds on the cafe, Darok and Arokous had long left their table and retired back to their rooms for the night. Unfortunately he couldn’t do the same. At least not yet.

He needed to slap together some programming to alert him if anyone matching Arkous and Darok’s description left their rooms. Figure out the identity of the Sith at the cafe. And, to his great chagrin, prevent another close call like tonight and get his much needed Jedi backup here on planet. Not in that particular order necessarily, but it all needed to be done.

“Be proud of me, Balkar,” Theron muttered as he began to pull up the Defender’s current berthing, “I’m bringing a ‘date’ just like you wanted me to.”

Damn, he was talking to an imaginary Jonas Balkar shaped friend now. He really needed to get out more. He also tried to valiantly ignore how much that particular thought sounded like the imaginary man in question.

[dingbatnix]

Oof, poor Punz. Eventually he'll figure out that it's probably safe : )

Also, if Punz really was against Dream and the others were accusing/attacking him, Dream wouldn't defend Punz, because the others would be diverting the attention on Dream. Doing this proves that they're working together, buuuut none of the others have really stopped to think about it. They're too much in shock : D

Taglist: @brick-a-doodle-do @i-am-beckyu @da3dm @kayla-crazy-stuffs @local-squishmallow @skullsnbruises @giant-tiny-squid I'm putting you here cause it's your ask, technically:)

[ellenchain]

🍩🌴Vacation time 🌴🍩

[fiapple]

i'm getting towards the end of the skypeia arc, & i'd like to say just how much i adore the way the female strawhats have been treated.

just... every aspect of how the way their characters have been previously contextualized influences the story-line is treated with a masterful amount of consideration. we're given so many layers to both of them that enrich not only their characters specifically, but the arc, and the one piece world as a whole. without nami & robin having their specific skills, and their specific values, without those being built upon, the story would have come to a halt.

you could not have skypeia without nami & robin being who they are as individuals. not just because they never would've gotten there without nami, but also because the way these women think is itself foundational to the machinations of the arc as a whole.

to be totally upfront, if you think any other strawhats were more central to the skypeia arc than nami & robin were you are full-on fucking lying to yourself.

[neon-catarina]

couldn't a reason Mind and Heart hate each other be because of whole's love interest (sung in Haiku and Hidden In The Sand), like how Whole really liked them, but he thought that they would never love him, so basically his Heart wanted to ask them out and pursue a relationship, but his Mind refused thinking they would never love him. And its mostly because of that Whole split into three in the first place, so they both blame each other for it, and that's why they hate each other?

[nostalgia-tblr]

"are people not into that?" i ask, after posting my weird niche shit to the internet, despite knowing it to be weird niche shit.