#guys that is a whole ass tiger

[soleilapproves]

Mechanic Sukuna purposely lies about your car so he can see you again.

Notes: not proofread, fem!reader

main masterlist

Sweaty, grimy, and greasy. Three adjectives you’d use to describe the local repair shop. It was always filled with muscled men who always seemed to have a permanent scowl on their face, intimidating anyone who wanted help with their vehicle.

Which is why you always sent your (only) male friend there to order any kind of complicated repair work on your behalf. As a woman, you did not want to be subject to all the scrutinizing stares and intentionally inflated prices for services that would otherwise be cheap or free of charge.

Your car was your baby. A haven if you will. It was much better to take naps in there rather than sit and do homework in the library during the long gaps in your class schedule. It was the best to use in the late months of spring, with the AC blowing right in your face as you dreamt about sleeping on an iceberg.

But alas, it also had to break down when the heat was at its highest and your friend had gone on a trip with his partner.

You were now conditioned to go to the place you dreaded most. You got rid of all your pretty accessories stuck and dangling off of different parts of your car. You were not going to be a victim of chauvinism. Especially not by mechanics- it just hurts more with them of all people.

As expected, all eyes were on you (mainly because you were the only girl in the shop and you looked like you had seen a ghost). All the men there looked like they belonged to a gang- brutish, crass words slipping out of their mouths like it was nothing, grease all over their faces, and regular safety uniforms altered to show off their muscle tank tops.

Your eyes just shifted around the place. You weren’t even sure how the system worked. Were you supposed to walk over to them or did they just come to you? Did you have to get an appointment before arriving like it was a doctors office or-

“I recognize that dump.”

You turned to see who in their right mind had to say that about your ass. You hadn’t been hit on a lot in your life, but you knew how to differentiate between flattery and sexual harassment. The other men were quick to go back to their tasks, not wanting to watch your reaction.

“Excuse me?” You squeaked out with as much anger in your voice as possible (you were more like a yipping Pomeranian).

The pink haired man in front of you looked like the definition of bad news. Stark black tattoos against his pale skin, burn and cut scars all over his arms, and his pink hair was pulled back by a black bandana. With the way him and the other men looked, it seemed like all mechanics had to do a course in ‘Intimidation 101: how to look like a convict.’

“Talkin’ ‘bout your car, sweetheart. Some guy is always comin’ in here with that thing.”

Sweetheart. Passive aggressive prick

“Oh, I’m sorry. That guy’s my friend. This is actually my car and the AC is just not working properly. I think it’s broken.”

You watched as he walked over to your car and examined the interior. “Flaps are fine. I think we might have to open it up and take a good look inside. Might even have to replace the thing.”

He noticed your shifty gaze, probably worried about how much you were going to have to pay for the whole thing. Adorable.

“I know a guy who gives discounts for it. You a college student?” His unnaturally handsome face looks concerned for you. You weren’t expecting it but you welcomed it. With caution of course. You nodded meekly while looking at him. Maybe mechanics weren’t scammy towards women after all.

He clapped his hands and grinned, sharp canines visible in all their glory. The man looked like the human version of a tiger. “Then it’s basically free. Don’t worry about the cost. You can leave your car here. Want me to call an uber for ya?”

He noticed the not-so-discreet glances from his coworkers but kept his eyes trained on your wimpish face.

“I’m alright. Um, thank you. Do I have to leave my number or do you guys have that on file?”

“We do have a number but I’m guessing that belongs to your friend cause he’s always the one to come here and pick your car up after service.”

“You’re right. I think I might have to give mine.”

As stupid as it sounds, he wanted to do a cartwheel, it’s like everything was falling into place. Cute girl with car problems, no boyfriend (as far as he knows), and he gets her number.

He was going to get a celebratory beer after work.

His colleagues could see the pep in his step but didn’t bother to say anything knowing that you were still there- even if you looked like your mind wasn’t present.

He returned with a clipboard and bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from scaring you with his beaming smile.

“I’m Sukuna by the way.” He smirked as he noticed the deep blush on your cheeks. You stammered out your name to him and he swore that he could almost envision it on an elegant white card a few years from now.

“See you soon,” he said before walking away with a new air of confidence around his gait.

After you left, his friend, Toji, abandoned the car he was working on to follow Sukuna to the office. “There’s no way in hell you know someone who can install a new AC for free. I paid hundreds to fix mine.” Sukuna didn’t even look at his friend while he was talking. He just kept staring at you through the window while you were getting into your cab.

“There’s nothing wrong with her AC. She just needed to clean the filters.”

__

New serie- who said that? 👁️👄👁️

[wheeboo]

love surge | kwon soonyoung

SYNOPSIS. in which soonyoung experiences a love surge whenever he's with you. PAIRING. kwon soonyoung x gn!reader (ft. a mention of wonwoo, latte, and small cameo of nct's doyoung) GENRE. fluff, friends to lovers, established relationship WARNINGS. reader wears a dress to prom, someone give soonyoung a medal for having a crush on reader for a whole ass three years, bro is WHIPPED™️, mild language, one suggestive scene, terms of endearment, kissing WORD COUNT. 4.8k

notes: u guys know how he vibrates whenever he's excited?? heh,,

The first time Kwon Soonyoung experienced a love surge was when he was fourteen years old.

He didn't know what to make of it at the time. Usually it would be a reaction to something cute or exciting𑁋like one of the many occurrences the neighbourhood kittens would stroll along the sidewalk on his way home from school, or the time he won a tiger plushie from the claw machine at the arcade.

It's as if his body would experience this sudden burst of energy, an uncontrollable fluttering that made him feel like he could run a marathon or jump to the moon, and he'd be left grinning ear to ear.

But this time, it wasn't a kitten or a plushie.

No, it was a person.

A new school year meant new people. New classmates, new faces, and new things to get used to. Soonyoung had never really thought much about it𑁋he was the kind of kid who could make friends easily, who moved through life with an easy smile and a boundless energy that drew people to him. Though he did have his own worries and anxieties about being a fresh new fish in high school, he was quite excited for what the future held for him now.

However, it had been exactly six minutes after class started that the door opened one last, final time.

The face he sees emerges into the room is one full of panic and a hint of embarrassment. Soonyoung catches your apprehensive eyes as you gaze around the room, searching for an empty seat, briefly landing on his eyes and the barren seat that was just conveniently the only one left in the room.

A small mutter of indecipherable apologies leaves your mouth towards the teacher as you slip your way throughout the classroom, feeling nearly everyone's eyes on you while nearly stumbling over other student's backpacks on the floor. The second you land at the empty spot right next to him, Soonyoung's breath catches in his throat.

It's almost as if his brain is struggling to register your presence right next to him, watching the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before fumbling for something inside your backpack.

Then your eyes furrow together defeatedly, and nothing could prepare Soonyoung when you turn towards him.

"Um..." You mumble quietly, letting out an embarrassed chuckle. "Hi, uh... do you happen to have an extra pencil with you?"

Soonyoung blinks, realising you were talking to him. "Pencil? Oh, yeah..." He reaches for his pencil bag, fishing out the first one he grabs ahold of and offers it over to you. "Here you go."

"Thanks so much," You say with relief, accepting the pencil with a cute, shy smile. Your fingers briefly touch, and the glance you both exchange afterwards seems to fill with a soft, awkward charm. "I'll make sure to bring it to you back after class, uh..."

Soonyoung brightens up. "Soonyoung!" Then he lowers his voice from how loud he seemed. "It's... Kwon Soonyoung."

"Kwon Soonyoung." The curl to your lips tug slightly more upward, and Soonyoung's heart does a little jump at the sight. "I'm Y/N."

Y/N, he repeats in his head.

His palms suddenly feel warm, and he has to ball his hands into fists at his side to stop his hands and legs from shaking and the jolt of excitement that ripples through his body. He can feel his heart thumping forcefully against his ribcage, like a thousand tiny fireworks going off all at once in his chest, and he can't tell whether it's from nervousness or pure exhilaration. Maybe both, at this point.

As class passes by, he notices the way you mindlessly doodle with the pencil he gave you, and for some reason, it makes him absurdly happy. He wonders if you'll return the pencil after class, and part of him hopes you don't. That way, he'll have an excuse to talk to you again.

Honestly, he might literally burst from the grin spreading across his face. It's a surge unlike any other one he's had before. And it's not from a game or a cute animal𑁋it's from you.

By the time class ends, you do seem to forget to give Soonyoung his pencil back, and you drift through the class too quickly that he isn't able to catch up with you before you're out the door. His shoulders slump as he fails to catch any sight of you in the crowded hallways.

Though as he shakes off the disappointment on the way to his next class, he feels that surge again. It brings a skip to his step that nearly makes him trip on his shoelace; a hopeful flutter to his heart; a smile to his face that refuses to fade for the rest of the day.

Fourteen-year-old Kwon Soonyoung doesn't really understand what having a crush is like or what love really is yet, but he knows this: whatever that feeling was, he hopes it happens again.

Seventeen-year-old Kwon Soonyoung tied his own tie for the very first time.

It took him approximately nine tries to finally perfect it. His hair is slicked back, and he's wearing the crispest shirt he owns, freshly ironed by his mother just an hour prior. Adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves, Soonyoung smooths over his suit one last time before turning around and taking the longest, deepest breath known to mankind.

Prom is supposed to be a night of fun, celebrating the end of high school and the journey he's about to embark on in life. He's quite excited on where life and time is about to take him, to be honest. But he tries not to think too much about that right now𑁋today is about today only.

Soonyoung finds himself squished in the backseat of Wonwoo's car with his friends, all chatting enthusiastically about the night ahead as they head to the venue. Music pumps loudly through the car's speakers, vibrating through the cramped space, and he's sure as hell that other cars could hear just the amount of excitement that was pouring out from the vehicle and into the cool, night air. But he doesn't care, nor do his friends.

The venue for prom is romantically lit and decorated, with fairy lights lining the entrance inside. Other students mingle, all dressed in their finest attire, posing for photos together with friends or with dates. Soonyoung and his friends spill out of the car, laughter and chatter flowing freely. After taking a few group photos outside, they finally head into the venue.

The night is filled with camaraderie as it progresses. Soonyoung lets himself lose on the dance floor as he spins and laughs with his friends and other students alike. His heart pounds to the beat of the music, the pulsating lights making everything feel surreal. At one point though, he drifts away from the group decides to take a break and grab a drink from the refreshment table.

Cold water cools down his throat as he glances around the venue, taking in the sight of everyone enjoying themselves. For a moment, Soonyoung leans against the refreshment table, savouring the moment, eyes searching around for something he wasn't entirely sure of𑁋until his gaze locks onto you.

You're standing near the edge of the dance floor. The dress that you wear shimmers softly under the lights. You look so effortlessly beautiful, like a scene out of a dream, and all the words he could ever think of scatter in his mind.

He hadn't forgotten about you, not in the slightest. Over the years, you'd become pretty good friends he would say, sharing a few mutual classes, bumping into each other in the hallway, exchanging quiet, lighthearted conversations and laughter whenever the teacher was lecturing and occasional banter. But Soonyoung realises he had never done exactly anything about the small, tiny crush he developed for you over time as he was dumbly scared to admit it.

And the feelings resurface all from a singular glance in your direction.

However, something else he catches is the way you appear seemingly torn between glancing down at your phone and back towards the sea of people passing by you in all sort of directions. You don't look... happy; if anything, you seem a bit lost, maybe even a little overwhelmed.

Soonyoung hesitates for a moment, contemplating whether to approach you or not. But then he decides to suck it up, and without anymore thought, he pushes himself away from the refreshment table and trails over to you, sliding his way past clusters of people, dodging swinging arms and spinning bodies until he finally reaches you.

You don't notice him at first, your attention still flitting nervously between your phone and the crowd, but Soonyoung clears his throat softly.

"Y/N?" he calls out to you, voice coming out a bit cracked.

You jump slightly, startled by the sudden voice cutting through your thoughts as you turn around. When your eyes meet his, Soonyoung watches your shoulders visibly relax.

"Soonyoung?" Then your gaze roams over him, taking him in with a small smile. "Wow, I almost didn't recognise you. You look great."

Soonyoung forces out a quiet chuckle, feeling warmth creep up his body, bashful hands coming to scratch the back of his neck.

"Thanks," he mutters, eyes trailing down towards the ground. "And you look... really beautiful tonight too."

You peer down at yourself, feeling the smile on your face widen ever so slightly at his words. "Thank you, Soonyoung."

A brief pause comes between you two as you both search for something to say. Once again, he watches you glance between your phone, to the crowd, and back to him again. There's some sort of apprehension in your eyes, and his brows furrow in concern.

"Are you okay?" Soonyoung asks, almost too quiet he isn't sure if you heard him at first.

You seem to hesitate for a moment before offering a small, forced smile. "Yeah, I just..." Then you purse your lips together. "You don't happen to have seen Minhyun around here, right?"

Minhyun? "Minhyun?" Soonyoung racks his brain for a moment, searching for that particular name through his crowded mind. "As in Minhyun from... the basketball team?"

"Yeah, him," You respond with a nod. "He's... my date for tonight, but uh... I think he ditched me. He was with me earlier and said he'd be right back. I've been looking for him for twenty minutes and he's not responding to any of my texts."

It's almost as if a hand reached its way into Soonyoung's chest, giving his heart a tight, worried squeeze, as well as a bit of frustration coursing through him. How could someone ever ditch their own date for prom? Let alone, out of all people, ditch you?

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he says, before his face brightens with determination. "Do you want me to help you look for him? I could ask around."

Immediately, you shake your head. "No, that's okay, Soonyoung. I appreciate it, though."

"Are you sure?" he urges gently. "I could... keep you company while you wait for him, maybe? Or we𑁋"

"Soonyoung," You cut his words off with a soft, tired chuckle, yet with a hint of firmness. "You don't have to do that. I don't want to ruin your night."

Soonyoung opens his mouth to protest, but the look in your eyes stops him. Still, his heart clenches at the thought of you standing here all alone, waiting for someone who might not even come back.

"I'll just head outside and wait for him," You tell him. "You go ahead and enjoy the night, okay?"

Before he could say anything more, you're brushing past him and heading towards the exit. Soonyoung watches you as you disappear through the crowd, the sparkle of your dress fading into the shadows of the venue's door. His chest tightens as a wave of disappointment washes over him, and for a moment, he just stands there, conflicted. Part of him wants to let you be, respect your decision, and go back to his friends. But the other part of him𑁋the one that's been harbouring this quiet, persistent crush for years𑁋won't let him just walk away.

However, as he attempts to take a step in your direction, a hand lands at his shoulder.

"Soonyoung! Come on, they're about to play the Cupid Shuffle," Doyoung exclaims, pulling him towards the dance floor with excitement.

For one last time, Soonyoung glances over his shoulder and towards the doors you just left. However, Doyoung continues dragging him by the ear towards the dance floor and where the rest of his friends are, already getting in position to start dancing. The familiar rhythm of the Cupid Shuffle takes over the room, and for a few minutes, Soonyoung lets the music take over. He joins in with the laughter and energy, moving in sync with his friends and the rest of the crowd.

Yet it's hard to shake off the lingering worry even while dancing, this ache to his limbs that causes his lively moments to be more subdued. Each second that passes, this pang of guilt hits him even harder.

He doesn't want to see you like that𑁋alone, waiting for someone who doesn't deserve you.

Soonyoung clenches his fists and makes a decision.

Suddenly, as if on autopilot, he finds himself drifting away from the dance floor and his friends and towards the exit of the venue. The night had gotten a little more cooler, hitting him square in the face the second he steps out. But he fixes his attention on finding you.

It doesn't him take long. He catches the familiar sparkle and colour of your dress, seeing you perched on a lone stone bench away from everybody else.

Your phone sits idly right next to you, gaze lost ahead on the packed parking lot.

"Y/N?"

You whisk your head around, catching Soonyoung slowly making his way towards you.

"Soonyoung? What are you..." You swiftly smooth out your dress with your hands. "I told you that I'll be fine."

"Well, I was never really good at following directions anyway..." He pauses when he comes in front of you. "Um... can I sit next to you?"

You give him a small nod.

Soonyoung casually places himself next to you on the bench, feeling the chill of the evening air but more focused on the warmth of being beside you. He glances at you, noticing the faint traces of concern still etched on your face.

"He didn't come, did he?"

You smile faintly at that, before it falters immediately. "No."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," You assure him. "Honestly, in a way, I was kind of hoping he wouldn't."

Soonyoung's eyes widen in surprise at that. "Really?"

"Mhm." You fiddle nervously with the bracelet around your wrist. "My friends set me up with him, even though I didn't exactly want to go to prom in the first place. But I just felt... obligated to, you know? Then I spent about two hundred dollars on a dress I'll only wear for one day in my life. But when Minhyun didn't show up, it was almost relieving, I guess. It just felt like one less thing I had to pretend to enjoy."

There's a brief pause as Soonyoung takes in your words and the way the moonlight reflects off your dress, the way your hair is perfectly styled and the incoming breeze that tousles it just a bit.

"If it makes you feel any better," Soonyoung starts, scooting a bit closer to you. "I... still think you look really pretty."

For a moment, you blink at his words, before the giggle you let out afterwards appears more natural, light-hearted, and genuine than all of the fake smiles you've plastered on throughout the night. Soonyoung can't help but let out a few soft, somewhat awkward laughs himself, a wave of accomplishment flowing through him.

You glance at Soonyoung, taking in his slouched posture, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and the easy, almost boyish grin that seems to settle into place whenever he's around you. You don't ever recall spending alone time with him in the few years you've known him around school.

You've always been used to his energetic attitude, this infectious brightness that follows him anywhere and everywhere. It's a bit strange to witness this side of him, but the comfort of his presence right now feels oddly right.

"It's a bit too early for prom to end right now." He faces towards you eagerly. "We should do something."

You lift a brow. "Like what?"

Soonyoung nips the bottom of his lip in contemplation, before he abruptly stands up and offers a hand toward you in this goofy, gentlemanly fashion.

Your eyes widen as you look up at him. "Soonyoung..."

"May I have this dance?" His lips quirk up into a playful grin.

You look around the area, noticing that there was no one else in sight. It was just the two of you outside right now.

"You know that I can't dance," You say to him.

"That's okay," Soonyoung reassures you. "I know that you didn't want to come to prom, but... let me at least make it worth it for you. I can be your date for a few minutes, if you want."

I can be your date for a few minutes. The words bounce off the walls in your head, and the flutter you feel in your heart warms your face.

With some slight hesitation, you allow him to take your hand, and he practically makes you leap off the cold-stoned bench and towards a more secluded part of the parking lot, right under the glow of a streetlamp. The noise from prom fades away into the background.

Soonyoung faces toward you, and the gleeful grin on his face melts away into a softened, almost sheepish look.

"You can, um... put your hands right here. On my shoulders. And I’ll place my hands... here," Soonyoung instructs with a nervous chuckle, hands hovering near your waist. "If that's alright with you."

Soonyoung doesn't exactly know why he's suddenly feeling so bold. Maybe it's because he's spent quite literally almost all of his high school years admiring you silently from afar, or because tonight has been a rollercoaster of its own and he's realised that he doesn't want to waste this chance with you.

Placing your hands tentatively on his shoulders, his hands gently settle on your waist. Admittedly, it's a bit clumsy, awkward as you both just stand there, feeling the cool breeze against your skin and the faint hum of music from inside the venue. However, it seems to melt away when you both start slowly swaying back and forth.

"Try not to step on my feet," he mutters cheesily.

"Okay, mister professional," You tease amusedly, nerves settling as you adjust your feet so that you don't accidentally step on him with your heels.

As you both sway along a comfortable rhythm, Soonyoung continues to gaze at you. Not in a weird way𑁋at least, he hopes he's not𑁋but with a kind of adoration he's sure everyone could read on his face. It feels natural, this simple dance beneath the streetlamp, like a small piece of the prom night that was meant for just the two of you.

You gaze up at him wonderingly, squeezing his shoulder to get his attention. "What?"

"I..." Gosh, Soonyoung, snap out of it! "You're just... really pretty. That's all."

His words come out quiet and almost all mumbles as he hangs his head down low to the ground.

"You've told me that three times tonight," You remind him playfully. "in the span of an hour."

"I-I'll stop. I'm sorry𑁋"

"You don't have to stop," You cut him off softly, voice tinged with a smile. "But if you wanted to ask me out, you know... I wouldn't say no. No need to be shy about it."

Your words make Soonyoung freeze in place, his hands still on your waist. Along with the night, he holds his breath. For a moment, Soonyoung's brain short circuits, and all he can do is blink at you in disbelief.

"Y-You wouldn't?" he stammers.

You shake your head softly, that small smile still lingering. "No. I wouldn't."

Soonyoung's hands instinctively tighten just a little around your waist, as if he's afraid you might slip away. He clears his throat, trying to muster up some confidence.

"So... I could be your date a little longer than a few minutes?"

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you meet his nervous gaze, your fingers unconsciously tightening their hold on his shoulders.

"You could be my date for the rest of this night. Or this week. Or however long you want, Soonyoung."

There's that surge again𑁋a rush of warmth that sweeps through Soonyoung's entire body from top to bottom and making him feel like he's floating on cloud nine. He feels his pulse quickening, his heart racing, and the mask that was suppressing his giddiness all finally shed light. He's certain that you could feel it, too.

Seventeen-year-old Kwon Soonyoung feels as though he's stepped into a dream. Perhaps the universe had listened to his wishes all along.

Twenty-two-year-old Kwon Soonyoung had been told that high school relationships rarely ever last.

Well, to be fair, the two of you got together at the end of the year, so did it really count? He doesn't exactly know. But he's seen friends of his own break up with their supposed 'high school sweethearts'𑁋the ones where they've promised marriage and eternity and everlasting love𑁋and he'd been warned time and time again that those relationships often fizzle out when faced with the realities of adulthood.

But here he is, twenty-two, and still with you.

Soonyoung finds himself sitting at the dining table, laptop propped up in front of him, finally submitting his last assignment of the entire school year. And when he does, he shuts his laptop close, leaps out of the chair, and pumps his fist up into the air in victory.

"Yes!" he exclaims proudly into the empty apartment. "I'm done!"

He lets out a whoop of excitement, a grin stretching across his face from ear to ear. Finally the past few weeks of late nights and strenuous studying have paid off, and now, he gets to relax.

More importantly, he gets to relax with you.

As he's tidying up the apartment, the click of the door lock grabs his attention. His face lights up, and he quickly finishes putting away the last of the dishes, making a beeline straight to the front door.

You're walking in with a couple grocery bags, yet nearly drop them when a pair of arms wrap around you.

"Soonie! What the𑁋"

"I just submitted my last assignment, baby!" Soonyoung announces to you eagerly, arms squeezing around you in a tight hug. "We're done with school!"

When he pulls away, you give him a quick kiss to his cheek. "For now."

Soonyoung pouts slightly as you slip past him and towards the kitchen, beginning to put away the grocery bags. "Aw, come on, you're not excited for me?"

You chuckle at that. "Of course I am."

"But you're not showing it!"

You turn around, and Soonyoung is already standing in front of you with his arms folded across his chest, feigning a dejected look to his features𑁋a look that you know so well.

You could only let out a sigh, extending a hand to tug at his sleeve, pulling him closer to you.

"I'm proud of you, Soonie," You tell him warmly, watching the way his expression softens when he's this close to you. You let your fingers trace shapes up and down his arm. "I really am."

As another grin makes its way across his face, Soonyoung feels that familiar surge of energy𑁋of love𑁋course through him, and he wraps his arms around you once more to lift you up onto the counter. You yelp out a surprised giggle at his gesture, instinctively circling your arms around his neck for support. His eyes never leave yours as he gently sets you down, his hands resting lightly on your hips, face just inches from yours.

Soonyoung always feels like he might burst from happiness when he's this close to you, even in the few years you've been together now. He knows it's a feeling that won't go away, not now, not ever, not anytime soon.

"Gosh, you're so pretty, you know that?" He kisses you so softly, careful not to let all of his affection spill out right now. "So fuckin' gorgeous..."

"Okay, handsome, what happened to 'we're done with school'?" You tease gently, sighing quietly when his lips meet the skin of your shoulder. "Don't you want to make plans?"

"I have plans, alright," Soonyoung mutters against your skin, his lips brushing softly against your collarbone. "And you don't have to do anything else, m'kay?"

You tilt your head back slightly, gazing at him with amusement. "Are you sure that's all you need from me?"

"Hmm, a few more kisses wouldn't hurt, and I'll do the rest, yeah?" Soonyoung suggests playfully, already puckering his lips out for you. "Can I take care of you, please?"

You just giggle, taking his face in your hands and instead of kissing his lips, you press one right to the tip of his nose. "Whatever you want, Soonie."

The love surge that has been building up in his system finally releases its way out of his body, bursting out of him and consuming his entire being the second your mouth meets his. He's swift to pull you close and lift you effortlessly off the counter, his feet bringing him in the direction of the bedroom, your laughter mingling together and bouncing off the walls.

Twenty-two-year-old Kwon Soonyoung is convinced that no matter how much love he feels or how many times he shows it, there will always be more to give.

Twenty-eight-year-old Kwon Soonyoung finds that the word home has taken on a new meaning over the years.

Sure, he can find his proper comfort in the physical aspect, but it's different when you are in it with him.

Just like now, with you simply laying right next to him in bed, with Latte settled on your other side and body encased by the warmth of the duvet. Soonyoung doesn't think this is a sight he can wake up to every day; he knows it'll be a sight he'll have the privilege of cherishing for the rest of his life.

"Baby?"

"Hm...?"

He giggles lowly at the way your voice sounds so sleepy and content. Carefully, he presses his body up more against you, slipping one of his arms over you and the other under your pillow to draw you even closer to him. Your legs tangle even more together underneath the duvet, and he can't help but smile at how perfectly you fit against him.

"Hi," he whispers playfully into your ear, causing your nose to crinkle endearingly.

Yet instead of pushing him away, you flip over in his hold, nestling your head on his chest and muttering out a drowsy hi against him. Your arm wraps around his waist, and you let out a content sigh as you press a soft kiss to his neck. Soonyoung lets out an airy sigh, feeling the cold metal of the ring on your finger meet the skin of his back where his shirt had ridden up a little.

Even with years of being together, this routine of morning snuggles hasn't changed one bit; if anything, you seem to initiate more of the cuddles these days, and he doesn't mind it at all. Not one bit.

Latte curls her way into a more comfortable ball against your back as Soonyoung runs his hand under your shirt just slightly to trace his fingertips over the skin of your spine.

As he holds you for a few more, long minutes, Soonyoung separates himself a little, not to fully let go of you but just to capture his first glimpse of your face for the day.

"So pretty," he says, poking softly at your cheek. It's probably his quadrillionth time telling you that and every possible synonym of it, but it never seems to lose its meaning.

Slowly, your eyes flutter open to peer at him with a groggy but affectionate gaze.

"I love you."

Soonyoung blinks dazedly. Somehow, still always, he's always caught by surprise whenever you say those three little words to him. He's been hearing them for years now, every day and every night, but every time, it feels like the first.

It's almost ridiculous to admit how much of an effect you have on him still, how much you've managed to wrap him around your finger since the first time you met, but the heavens only know how grateful he is for it.

"I love you too."

Then his lips curl up into cheesy grin, and the surge of love that courses through him once more makes him tightly wrap his arms around you, causing you to stuff your face into his chest. You feel his body vibrate around you, muffling your giggles in his embrace, and accidentally jerking Latte awake with a soft whine.

Twenty-eight-year-old Kwon Soonyoung had finally discovered the meaning of home and love.

And it's you.

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@ahuiahoe

[gatorbites-imagines]

Request or just saying

One piece is so good but all I was thinking is how Law can be a bit of a brat sometimes especially when he runs off and gets his ass in trouble (I'm sorry I was dying of laughter when his ass got beat by the flamingo guy, I can not spell his name for the life of me). So imagine a bigger sly reader punishing him 🤤

Like reader is happy Law survived and he punishes him, nsfw or not

This could be a good fluff or smut type thing, I don't mind!!

Love your writing

Trafalgar Law x bigger male reader

Headcanons

The thing I love about one piece is that a request can say bigger reader, and I can make reader anywhere from a few inches taller than the other character, or make them 10 feet tall, and it would fit into the one piece universe.

Reader is 8 or 9 feet in this, cuz hehe, I love size difference.

You were the holder of a devilfruit, a zoan fruit more specifically, the tiger fruit. This granted you the power of any zoan fruit, and resulted in you having a striped pattern on your skin most days, as well as tiger ears and a tail flicking behind you, as that was most comfortable for you.

You had been a part of the heart pirates for a long time, and had been dating Law for a good chunk of that. You regularly used your tiger form to get him to sleep, transforming into a huge tiger and flopping down on top of him to keep him down.

He could easily use room to get away, but Law learns you’ll just follow him and keep it up. When you don’t turn into a tiger, youll still pick him up and keep him in your lap, making tiger noises in your chest as you rub your chin on the top of his head after knocking his hat off.

You end up having to pull him out of trouble a lot, at this point you are sure it’s the D in his name, as he attracts danger like a magnet. It leaves the hairs on your tail puffed up and frizzy, as you always feel the need to look out for him.

More than once you’ve had to swoop in, in tiger form, and chase off any enemy that’s too much, just to scoop Law up and carry him back to the Polar Tang as he pouts and grumbles like the brat he is.

People outside the crew can’t seem to believe you when you mutter about Law being a brat. Everyone on your crew knows it’s the truth, and he can get especially bratty with you at times when he wants to rile you up.

Law always gets this lazy but satisfied grin on his lips when he catches your tail wagging from side to side in annoyance, your teeth and claws sharper than normal as you try to suppress the urge to chase him down and punish him in one way or another.

Laws sacrificial ways have always left you feeling stressed, and after the fight with Doflamingo you want to rip all your fur out because you really felt like you were gonna lose your lover.

You thank Luffy and the strawhats for keeping him safe, even if you are also very bruised and bloodied from the fighting, before carrying Law back to the Polar Tang like you are used too, still transformed into the more Anthro looking form similar to the form Lucci takes, but a tiger instead.

The rest of the heart crew knows to give you space as you rumble deep in your chest, scolding Law as you stomp back towards the submarine, Law pouting as he lays in your arms with his arms crossed.

The wild thrashing of your tail and the twitching of your ears also tells your crew to find somewhere else to spend the night, or else they’re gonna be hearing their captains voice throughout the whole submarine.

Some of the strawhat crew seems to pick up whats up, whilst others don’t, so the ones in the know have a little laugh at Laws fate, but they leave you guys to it, since the celebrating will take a while anyways.

Law wont even look at you as you throw him into your bed, a bed big enough to feet all 9 feet of your height, his arms crossed as he stares at the wall like it’s the most important thing in the world.

You transform into your more human form, pacing back and forth at the bottom of the bed, growling and grumbling as you scold him, making sure to get your point across, till Law starts to feel bad for his behavior, at least somewhat.

His shoulders climb up to his ears and Law finally looks at you, his pout melted away into something a little softer and almost guilty. But it immediately melts away when you stop prowling and crawl up the bed towards him.

Instead, a glint appears in his eyes, that bratty satisfied grin like he has gotten just what he wanted from his behavior.

But, Law soon comes to regret that, as you take that expression as a challenge, and he soon finds himself thrown over your large bulky thighs, his pants pulled down to his knees as you spank him, making him count each strike.

In this situation, your much larger size is something Law curses, as your hand covers pretty much his entire ass as you lay into him, growling his wrongdoings at him, fangs flashing as striped fur licks up your arms and sideburns, your eyes flashing between human and those of a tiger.

Its only when he loses the ability to count and hes reduced to a blubbering moaning mess that you slow down, basking in the tears running down his face as he sobs and apologizes.

Its only after you find his cries and tears satisfactory that you pull his pants the rest of the way off and sit him up, pulling him into your lap. You have to lean down somewhat to kiss his forehead, but after such a spanking Law is so sweet and pliable.

He whimpers and shudders, face wet with tears and drool as he clings to your chest, hips lifted to not press his aching behind against your strong thighs. But the punishment has also left him aching somewhere else, his cock twitching and leaking as need burns up his spine.

You make sure to praise him and mumble how much you love him as you rub his back, comforting him through his tears until he’s calmed down enough for you to focus on something else, as the pain of the punishment lessens, and Laws lust grows.

When Law starts to whine and whimper for something else, you roll him onto his back, shucking off the rest of his clothes as you go.

Law gasps and shudders as his aching behind presses against the sheets, but his focus is quickly somewhere else as you start licking at his neck and torso, your tongue rough and sharp against his skin, your feline tongue leaving red strips across his skin from the sandpaper like texture.

Law tries to keep quiet, but with him already being so worked up from earlier, its easy to get him to wail and moan loud enough for it to fill the entire Polar Tang. Especially when your rough tongue brushes against the underside of his cock.

The first time you do that his back arches almost painfully, the noise the leaves him sounding almost tortured as he grips onto your hair, his throat burning from the intensity of his wail.

Law shudders and moans, what little shame that had been before bleeding out of his body as your large hands hold his hips down, your tongue carefully rolling against his sensitive length, never dragging or hurting too much. You rub it against him just enough for him to feel and for it to leave him shaking.

You rumble and purr as his blurry eyes fall shut, a tear running down his cheer as he lets out a soundless wail of pleasure, his entire body tensing and toes curling as white spurts leave his cock, splattering across the flat side of your tongue and across his torso.

As he goes limp you rub his hips and thighs, pulling your tongue away from his sensitive flesh to mutter praise and loving words to him as he pants and continues to moan softly.

Its only when you know he’s returned somewhat to himself that you crawl up the bed again. After laying down on your back, you pull him on top of you, letting him curl up in your arms for a bit. You’ll get up soon to get stuff to treat the bruises in a bit, but first you need to hold him as he shudders and grasps onto you, Law needing you to ground him.

You end up curling your tail around him, letting some fur appear on your torso so he can run his fingers across it in a grounding and comforting manner, a loving rumble leaving your throat and chest and leaving Law feeling tired but comfortable.

He may be bratty at times, but he’s your brat, and you’ll straighten him out when he needs it when you have too. It’s a process you both love more than you two will ever admit, and a process that annoys your crew at times, but that’s just what its like being part of the heart pirates at this point.

[himbofan4444]

Greg had been dying to become popular, but his slender frame and lack of friends heavily detracted from that. He joined the wrestling team as a last ditch effort to gain attention, but he was exceedingly poor at it. One day he went to the coach to ask for help.

“Coach, I think I’m going to quit the team.”

“Why? You have so much potential.”

“To be honest, I don’t care if I have potential. I just want to be popular.”

“Oh you do? Well wrestling should help with that.”

“Not if I never win.”

“What if I made it so you did win?”

“How would you do that?”

“Listen Greg. Nobody knows about this but I have a steroid to help you grow overnight. Would you be interested?”

“What? Overnight? Can I have it now?”

“Hold on tiger. I wanted to give it to you at the lock-in next weekend just to make sure you don’t die. You interested?”

“Of course, sir!”

“Great I’ll see you next weekend then.”

After a week of anticipation, Greg went to the school for the lock-in. He was quickly pulled aside by the coach.

“Here kid. You have to inject it in one of your buttcheeks. Now go.”

Greg shakily pushed the needle into his buttcheek and injected the mysterious liquid. There was no instant effect. He walked to sit in the coach’s office as instructed. The coach sat seated in front of Greg to observe the changes.

“When is it supposed to start working?”

“It takes about twenty minutes I believe.”

They sat in silence until Greg felt a pulsing throughout his body.

“Oh I think I can feel it working.”

He felt his legs and back stretch quickly, his previous 4’11” self left as a 6’4” giant.

“Woah. I’m huge!”

“Oh kid this is just the beginning.”

His face changed rapidly. His once youthful face was replaced with a much more masculine one. His jaw and chin grew massive, his chin gaining a noticeable dimple. His lips grew plump and juicy. His nose grew wider and more prominent. His eyes got smaller and changed to a crystal blue. His eyebrows got thicker and shifted to rest lower on his face. His hair became blonde and grew into a curly mullet. He grew a dense pornstache as well.

His body was the next target. His neck widened significantly and his adam’s apple grew much larger. His shoulders widened and grew more muscular. His traps swelled and started to swallow his neck. His biceps swelled along with his triceps and forearms. His hands grew to double the size and his fingers grew thick and meaty. His once nonexistent pecs changed into huge muscle tits. His nipples got thicker. His lats and back swelled, his whole silhouette gaining significant size. His stomach formed a six-pack. His thighs grew huge, perfect for wrapping around his opponents. They were so large he could not comfortably walk. His calves swelled. His feet changed into an absurd size 20. They were so big he would constantly trip over them. His butt grew fat and fuckable, so that they would jiggle when he walked. His penis grew massive. It expanded to a monstrous uncut 12 inches with huge balls.

“Oh fuck that feels good…”

Greg flinched at hearing his voice. It was comically deep as he was comically large.

“How am I supposed to pass as a middle schooler? I’m huge!”

“You are a middle schooler, but you’re not 12 anymore.”

Greg tried to understand what he was just told but then the mental changes hit him all at once. His once high intellect shrunk to almost nothing. He couldn’t focus on anything except for his dick. He is now coach’s son and star player. He couldn’t pass 7th grade even at 19 years old. He has an IQ of 60 now, too stupid to do anything except wrestle, jerk off, and get fucked by his dad. He grew thick body hair all over, mostly around his armpits, balls, and chest. He gained a strong musk so strong his dad started to gag. Greg, or Gavin now, is the most popular guy at school, even if everyone has to plug their noses when talking to him. Coach hands him his a large hoodie, sweatpants, and huge shoes.

“Go put this on.”

“K Dad.”

Gavin pulls the clothes over his thick muscles, his huge dick and ass accentuated due to the tight fabric. He stomps his foot, causing his thick ass to jiggle hypnotically.

“Dad… I’m hornyyyyyy… Please fuck meee…”

“Gavin you know I can’t right now. I’m on duty. Maybe you should go play with the other kids.”

Gavin smiles and waddles away back to the gym, stumbling over his giant feet. He paws at his monster cock and pulls at his ass. He lifts his buff arm and sticks his face into the dense forest of hair in his armpit. He collapses on the floor and starts to masturbate to his obscene odor. He quickly realizes it’s impossible to smell his pits and wrap both of his hands around his huge cock, making him frustrated. He awkwardly stands up and forces his dick into the wall. He aggressively thrusts into the wall while lapping up the sweat accumulating in his hairy pits. He loudly pants and moans as he approaches climax. He releases copious amounts of cum, not even emptying his huge balls. He howls in pleasure as he falls back onto his fat jiggly ass. He passes out, his cock still sticking straight up.

[longwuzhere]

Some cool Easter eggs I caught watching My Adventures with Superman that I want to show to people so they can be in on it with comic book readers pt2

Episode 1 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 3 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 4 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 5 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 6 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 7 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here and here

Episode 8 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 9 of My Adventure with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 10 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 3 post is here

(SPOILERS obviously):

An obvious one, but a classic, the "up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superman!" line reference. This one never gets old.

Jimmy next name drops Flamebird. in the comics Nightwing and Flamebird were Kryptonian superheroes adopting their names from a species of Kryptonian birds. This is where Dick Grayson gets his Nightwing identity from. The page here is from Who's Who: The Definitive Directory of the DC Universe #17 (1986) drawn by Curt Swan and Karl Kesel.

At the climatic battle of part 2 of Adventures of a Normal Man, we see Leslie Willis become blue and look more like her traditional Livewire look. Her first appearance was in Superman the Animated Series, season 2 episode 5 "Livewire" where she was voiced by Lori Petty, a.k.a. Tank Girl. In the show Leslie was a shock jock radio DJ slinging hot takes live on air knocking down Superman a peg or two

Obviously MAwS took Leslie in a whole different direction, design choice, and occupation change, but I am excited to see what happens next for her.

Before we see Clark battle Leslie we see this guy. White hair, wears orange and black, its Slade Wilson a.k.a. Deathstroke. This fool here in like 20 to 25 years will have his life spiral out of control and get his ass kicked by a bunch of colorfully dressed teenagers.

Deathstroke makes his first appearance in New Teen Titans #2 (1980) (W: Marv Wolfman and George Perez, P: George Perez, I: Romeo Tanghal, C: Adrienne Roy, L: Ben Oda) where he is hired by H.I.V.E. to kill the Teen Titans. In the comics he's a major piece of shit, but a damn good assassin.

After the fight we see Supes clean up and he picks up a billboard that reads Amazotech.

This is a good reference to Professor Anthony Ivo, a mad scientist of the DC Universe who built the Amazo robot who could adapt and replicate any power that the Justice League has and weaknesses. Both Ivo and the Amazo robot make their first appearances here in Brave and the Bold #30 (1960) with the cover art done by Mike Sekowsky and Murphy Anderson.

At the end of the episode Slade name drops Task Force X better known as the Suicide Squad. The name "Suicide Squad" is from the Brave and the Bold #25 where it was the name of Rick Flag's unit in the military. The Suicide Squad pop culture knows first debuted in Legends #3 (1987) as seen below (W: John Ostrander and Len Wein, P: John Byrne, I: Karl Kesel, C: Tom Ziuko, L: Steve Haynie).

The team at this time was composed of Rick Flag, Bronze Tiger, Captain Boomerang, Deadshot, Enchantress, and Blockbuster. The team members have changed out with each new Task Force X/Suicide Squad iteration.

Behind Slade, here is Amanda Waller, the most fearsome woman in the DC universe. She's ruthless, politically powerful, and will not hesitate to blow up anyone in the Suicide Squad if they screw up. She makes her first appearance in Legends #1 (1987) same comic series in the previous picture. Very excited to see where My Adventures with Superman goes with this cuz you don't see Superman interact with Deathstroke or Suicide Squad all the often.

Link to Episode 1 of My Adventures of Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 3 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 4 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 5 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 6 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 7 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here and here

Link to Episode 8 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 9 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 10 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 3 post is here

[agroteraa]

I Wanna Be Your Dog

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Summary: Oliver's memories of one of the evenings at Oxford, where you began getting closer. And a night in Saltburn, where you try to be dominant with him.

Actaeon series spin-off, taking place between Artemis and The Wrath of the Stag.

Warnings: smut, dom!Reader, sub!Oliver, switching, oral, penetration sex.

Word Count: 2,8K

It was another spring party at Oxford. All the young people were chatting cheerfully with bottles and glasses in their hands in the slightly dim light of the dormitory's common room. Felix and Oliver were almost lying relaxed on the couch and had been silent for some time.

“Now, can you eenie, meenie India or Annabel, and take one fucking home? Because they look miserable,” Oliver suggested softly.

“Eenie, meenie, miny, moe. Catch a tiger by his toe. If he squeals, let him go. Er..." Felix seemingly forgot the text of the counting-out rhyme, but decided to finish it as soon as possible and make a choice anyway, "You're out, boy scout!"

The choice fell on Annabelle. He happily pecked Oliver on the cheek in gratitude, which made him grin widely. Oliver liked being praised. Especially by those who were important to him. Felix quickly jumped up from the sofa and, lightly slapping the contented girl on the ass, and went off with her upstairs.

“Well, what the fuck, mate? I’ve been chirpsing her for about an hour. I wanted at least a hand job...” the guy Annabelle left said in disappointment.

An hour. What did he know about waiting. How about almost a whole year, mate? Oliver smiled indulgently to himself. And anyway, how shallow that guy thoughts and desires were.

“I know. We all want a fucking handjob, mate. Get yourself a title and a massive fuck off castle.”

That where it was hard to argue. A title and a massive fuck off castle had never harmed anyone in life yet.

"Hey, here I am! And where is Felix?.." you were surprised when you returned from your dorm room and sat back down on the sofa, only this time next to Oliver alone.

"I don't know really," he shrugged, smiling, "I think he’s decided to go have some fun on his own."

"Hmm," you pursed your lips, not really surprised, but still, deep down, a little upset that Felix was acting like that again. You guessed where and why he might have gone, but decided not to focus on that thought right now. Besides, you'd already poured another bottle of your drink into yourself. There was some silence in the air. Before that, you had fun talking to the guys, mostly Felix, and you had never been alone with Oliver for long, especially at parties. You clenched your bottle tightly like a social lifebuoy.

Oliver was even beginning to interest you a little, just a little, but you still had no idea what and how to talk to him in private. He still seemed more like Felix's shadow. But at the same time, being face-to-face for at least a short time, you felt like you had to tell Oliver something meaningful, something deep... as if you should be giving away to him some of your secrets. You were vaguely disturbed by this feeling, as now you were just in the mood for small talk only.

"Um... so… how’s your study going?" you asked, not knowing where else to start a new separate conversation with him besides studying.

"Pretty well," he replied a little awkwardly, embarrassed by your close presence himself. Before that, Felix separated you on the couch, but now he wasn’t a bother anymore. Oliver definitely liked this intimacy, even though he was obviously not used to it yet. But one gets used to the fine things quickly. And Oliver was greedy for all the new truly fine things in his life.

"And yours?"

"Yeah, too," you took a small sip from the bottle, trying not to look him in the eye. At the same time, because you felt awkward and because these blue eyes have been looking at you so piercingly lately, as if they were drilling right into your soul. You couldn't tell if it was embarrassing for you, or if it was some other kind of excitement. Maybe both.

"And what about yours..." Oliver was interrupted by one of Felix's many friends, Chad, who plopped down on the arm of the sofa next to you.

"Hey, Y/N! I finally got to the party on your campus! How are you?"

"Oh, Chad! It's been a long time, it’s like you've disappeared somewhere. Have you really been studying so hard lately?" you both laughed loudly at this very bold assumption of yours. You continued to communicate, actively exchanging the latest news. Over time, you felt guilty a little. You turned to Oliver and smiled at him. He smiled back understandingly. His face visibly saddened when you turned back to the blond guy. He began to examine the empty bottom of his plastic cup, twirling it slightly in his hands. How should he get Y/N's attention? He didn't know. He had to come up with a plan. What would he do, what should he say, so that you…

"Hey, Oliver! Did you have any classes with Mr. Wharton?" you asked with interest, involving him in your conversation. He exhaled a little as he realized that you weren't leaving him in the middle of this party, where he felt like a stranger without Felix and you. You looked at him with a warm smile, and something inside him finally clicked and fell into place.

"Er, yeah... that oddball. He constantly comes up with fruit analogies for everything and even sometimes speaks on their behalf while holding them in hands."

"Ah, have you seen that too?! Y/N, I told you, he's an old weirdo! Only you are attending the wrong classes!" exclaimed Chad, and you all laughed merrily. The conversation was going well, and Oliver was incredibly happy about it. He didn't feel lonely anymore because of you.

But in return, some feelings that he had only vaguely suspected until this moment began to awaken inside him. You didn't stop drinking, and at some point, Chad put his arm around you and started lightly stroking your back. You giggled without giving it much thought, especially under the influence of alcohol. But Oliver saw perfectly well how Chad looked more and more into your eyes, lowering his gaze to your lips and lightly licking his own. It was very subtle, but Quick noticed it all. The way his hand keeps stroking your back, gripping you tighter and tighter. Oliver saw it all perfectly well, because he wanted to be in that place himself.

No, rather, he didn't really want to. He had long imagined your first kiss when you were fully conscious, willing and not under the influence of some alcohol, when you were too much mellow-minded. And he wouldn't let your kiss with Chad happen now, in this state, nor ever.

Sometimes it seemed you and him were very different. He could see through everything, and sometimes it was like you notice none of what you really should. How could you not understand that this Chad wanted to take you upstairs just like Felix did with Annabel?

You were kind and open, maybe even too friendly, oh, Y/N. Oliver was drawn to you like a moth to a fire. You were quite a complete and content person in your own right, and this was very attractive to the many-faced Oliver, who was still struggling to find a place in this life, especially here, in his first year at Oxford.

And it seems that he began to realize that he had found his place next to you. And he wanted to take this place like a guard dog, protecting it and you from all the adversity and guys like Chad.

You didn't forget about Oliver and wanted him to feel fine and less lonely, even hardly knowing him, even having so many friends and acquaintances here, even in the midst of fun of the party. You showed towards him attention and care.

Yeah, he would like to be your dog, he thought now.

Fortunately, you got up soon, freeing yourself from Chad's embrace and going to the bathroom. Great. Oliver had been carefully observing the situation in the common room all this time, so he immediately got up from the sofa and sauntered into the common kitchen, where India was smoking, still slightly displeased that Felix had not chosen her.

"How’s the party? " Oliver asked politely, grabbing a can of beer from the fridge.

India rolled her eyes, twirling a cigarette in her fingers, "What do you need?"

"Me? Nothing. But that guy has been looking at you half the evening without stopping," he nodded towards Chad and winked, "Just saying."

"Isn't he hanging out with Y/N?"

"No, he doesn't sleep with his buddy Felix's old friends. So, the way is clear."

"Oh, are they friends with Felix?" India narrowed her eyes. That was good, she needed some male attention right now, especially from those whom Catton Jr. might become jealous of. Thus, the girl went off towards her chance.

When you had returned to the common room, you saw Chad and India flirting with each other on the couch, and the girl did not let go of her hands off him. Okay. That was unexpected, but okay, it was a student party, after all. You shrugged your shoulders and started thinking about where you could sit now.

"Everyone seems to be having fun with each other tonight," Oliver, who happened to be next to you, shrugged sympathetically. Indeed, everyone around was busy with their own lively conversations, and someone was already far from just "talking".

"To singles?" he offered a playful toast, and you agreed with a grin, "Apparently so!"

"Cheers!" you clinked your drinks, continuing to talk a little more relaxed with each other. So, that how you started getting closer from that evening, and you began getting to know the real Oliver. At least that was what you thought at the time. He looked at you with a shy smile of a complete adoration as you were telling your stories full of joy and tipsy giggling. His eyes were shining like two starry sapphires at that moment.

If a guard dog wants to protect the peace of its owner and scare away other dogs, then it must inspire fear itself. Maybe sometimes not very intentionally, but instill just a little fear and sense of power even to its own master. Oliver wanted to be a good guard dog.

He would take this place next to you.

* * *

And he took it.

Now he was hovering over you, pinning you between his arms, leaning on your bed in your bedroom in Saltburn. It was the middle of the night, and finally not a single one inhabitant of this house could bother you right now.

Oliver thought all day about how he would continue his way with you at night, along the way remembering the evening of that party in Oxford, where you finally began to get closer. He looked down at you rapturously, biting his lip and breathing heavily, still not believing that all this was really happening. Not just right now, but in general, everything.

His blue eyes were gleaming with utter delight in the dim.

"What else does my sweet Y/N want?" Oliver asked you, recovering his breathing.

He bent lower, and a chain dangled from his neck, swaying slightly. The metal heated by the warmth of your bodies tickled your lips slightly. You lifted your head and gently but firmly catching the chain with your lips.

"Mm-hmm," Quick mumbled with curiosity. You smiled, gritting the chain with your teeth and began to shake it slightly from side to side. He opened his lips excitedly, inhaling sharply.

"Am I your doggie today? Oh, I'm more than willing to be, sweetheart," he said in his deep sexy accent.

He wanted to add "now and always," but didn't. Oliver was afraid that if he showed how willing he was to obey you, he would lose your interest. He was used to changing masks, adapting to different situations and someone's needs. He was an awkward and shy nerd when you first met, and that was largely true, because of his deep core nature and the new posh environment at Oxford. Fortunately, he had successfully joined Felix's company and was able to relax a little. And here in Saltburn, he almost felt like the master of the situation.

If you wished, he would always be that sweet, shy and awkward guy for you, if only you were truly happy about it. But he had learned that he interested and intrigued you mostly when he showed a more powerful, dominant and somewhat even dark part of himself. And that made him really pleased, because you viewed him the way he hoped to be in his own deep wildest dreams.

And yet, he still wanted to be your dog, an obedient dog who would do anything for you. In a sense, he was. And today he decided to demonstrate you that in more obvious way.

"What do you want me to do? I'm all yours," he leaned back next to you, belly up. Oliver smiled playfully. Right now, he was a tiger who had been caught by the toe with his own permission.

Biting your lip, you straddled him, sitting on his thighs. After enjoying this view, you ran your hand from his navel, sliding your fingers up the groove between his prominent muscles. Oliver exhaled sharply. You stopped at his neck, grabbed his chain, and pulled him to you. Now the guy was in a sitting position, he looked at you adoringly while his hands slid over your waist.

Without letting go of one hand from the chain, you slowly rose and began to descend on his cock. Oliver hissed with satisfaction, "Yes, my dear, just like that..."

"I didn't let you talk," you pulled the chain slightly, smiling slightly.

"Oh," he said in surprise, but gladly began to obey you, nodding in agreement.

You began to move slowly on his things, while Oliver's strong hands supported you with ease, guiding you, leaving hot prints on your skin.

His hands were all over you as his lips feverishly kissed everything they could reach. Finally, he reached for your lips, covering them with a hot kiss full of saliva, admiration and arousal.

When you broke the kiss, you said, a little hesitantly, but still firmly enough, "Take your hands off, next time you touch me when I tell you."

Oliver smiled enthusiastically – you learned quickly from his example, apparently. He liked the hint of his own power and dominance reflected on himself now through you.

He obeyed your request, although it was getting harder to fulfill it by every passing minute. He wanted to touch you again, guide your body and push it harder on his hard needy cock. It became unbearable after a while, and he whined a little. He looked at you a little pleadingly, but you nodded no.

He kissed your breasts again, but in response he got "Do not touch at all."

"Only I can now," with these words, you ruffled his hair and pressed harder against his shoulders. He groaned at the inability to touch you at all, it was a new sensation, or rather, its absence.

You grabbed his hair, and he put his head closer, burying it in your hand. It was the only chance to touch you in any way. Oliver closed his eyes and inhaled noisily through his nose. He didn't even mind if you squeezed his hair even harder, hell, maybe even poked his face into the sheet, where he would inhale the scent of your arousal. If you had forced him to lick it off, he would have willingly obeyed, as long as you continued to press his face to the bed, clutching his dark curls. He even imagined doing the same with the bathtub you were lying in lately. In his bathroom. This thought turned Oliver on even more.

Degrading him, talking him down, pulling his hair or chain harshly - he would not always like to be in this role, but he would like to give you that opportunity from time to time. If only you'd asked. And even if you hadn't asked. Because it was you. And because he was like that.

Reaching the peak almost at the same time, you dug your nails into his back deeply, which made Oliver's eyes darken slightly and starry at the same time. With a pleased moan, you released your grip and sank down onto the pillows. But that wasn't all of it, and you decided to play the role given to you to the very end.

Clutching his soft dark hair, you moved his head to your thighs. He looked back at you with hazy from own rapture eyes.

"Please," you said softly, still not being able to be dominant enough. But this sweetness and dissimilarity from his own, even in a situation where you could and should do it, but asking instead, drove Oliver crazy to his limit. He attacked you with a growl, delivering all the pleasure he could possibly give to you that night.

* * *

Oliver was lying with his arms around your lower back, his head resting on your stomach. Quick looked faithfully into your eyes. His face reflected the moonlight of the deep quiet night that was now in Saltburn.

You stroked and scratched him behind the ear, he rubbed his nose contentedly against your smooth belly skin.

"Is my mistress happy?"

"Yes," you laughed, starting to play softly with his hair.

"Then I am happy too," he said, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek against your soft belly, "Now and always."

[zeroducks-2]

I am conflicted. Your SlaDick art makes me go hnngg, but I've never found Slade to be a particularly interesting character. A good 80% of what I see about him on here is just discourse, which usually points towards a character being super intriguing, but most of what I've read in the comics he just seems like 'Generic Assassin Character With Bonus Divorced Dad Elements' What am I missing out on???

(Also, can I have a link to your header image? I need to reblog that asap)

Hey Tiger! How are you doing? Unfortunately I can't give you a tumblr link to my header image because tumblr's puritan ass considers it too much and took the post down LOL (it is literally just a guy in lingerie so idk what they're on about). You can have the Bluesky link instead.

Okay so about Slade. I honestly don't get the whole, uhh... "it's funny cause he's divorced" thing going on in the Slade fanbase. Like yeah he used to be a military man, he got married and had kids, but because he secretly became a mercenary and made lots of enemies, one of his sons very nearly died and his wife (understandably!) divorced him for it. I don't get what's funny about it, I don't get why people go "LOLOL he's a divorced guy!" like where's the punchline exactly? Lots of people get divorced is that a funny thing...?

Well but anyway. He used to be a very complex, very gray character in the 80s, when he was written by Wolfman and Perez. Initially he was not exactly a bad guy despite acting in the role of an antagonist, he was going against the Titans to honor the memory of his dead eldest son. Of course being a mercenary with little qualms about killing people put him in the gray area by default, but he was nice with the kids when the situation allowed it, very loving towards his middle child (Joseph, who also was a Titan), and he and Dick held mutual respect for each other (to the point that Dick convinced Bruce that Slade was actually a good man, and a honorable man who would never break his word. Which tbf was true).

The run Deathstroke The Terminator which ran from 1991 to 1996 is interesting and complex, selling itself like a Macho Man Thing! With Guns! And Explosions!, while it's actually tackling delicate themes such as parental grief, loss, CPTSD, the horrors of war and such. Slade's incrollable friendship and loyalty towards William "Billy" Randolph Wintergreen (former comrade in arms) is a very important and fairly touching aspect of it, and Slade's struggle to just Be A Good Person despite everything (and failing) is imo very compelling.

Over the years (and at this point irremediably), Slade has veered from being a gray, complex and multidimensional character into being only a villain. He stopped being caring towards his family (or he's directly manipulative and abusive especially towards Rose, youngest child born from adultery), he stopped being "fatherly" towards the Titans, and lost complexity overall. What he gained were impeccable Daddy Dom vibes, also thanks to the cartoon (Teen Titans 2003), where a Slade Wilson inspired character (called only "Slade" and voiced by Ron Perlman) is the embodiment of evil and has a fixation on young Robin Dick Grayson.

There are more "modern" moments in which Slade is still an interesting character. Like when he tried to steal the speed force from Wally (and eventually got it from Ace) to go back in time and save his eldest son's life (and failed miserably, but managed to change the fact that Grant, his boy, had died alone, because he held him through his last moments). The Slade you see being shipped with Dick is sort of an amalgam of all that... sometimes he's the sharp, wicked monster of the tt03 cartoon, sometimes he's a more gentle elder man who genuinely grew fond of Dick, sometimes he's a piece of garbage who's toying with a kid, and most of the times he's a ruthless mercenary who will stop for nothing and no one to fulfill his contracts... but he has a soft spot for Dick.

This last bit of characterization comes from the most iconic Nightwing run (1996 by Devin Grayson), and it's where Dick and Slade have some of their most interesting interactions since the New Teen Titans run of the 80s. There Slade acts like a lazy but dangerous big cat, and Dick has his carefully studied methods of dealing with him, which work because Slade is very fond of him basically.

There are more things to say but this post is long enough already! I feel Slade is one of the characters who have been done dirty by DC executives, because they have a hard time dealing with gray characters overall. He's versatile when it comes to fanworks because his characterization is all over the place (except a couple core concepts he's a different character in each media he appears in, basically), and Sladick is ridiculously hot and works imo very well in lots of different circumstances.

[chronically-ghosted]

i breathe you in (and it changes me)

rating: teen pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader word count: 2K summary: you've been here with him before - rock bottom. But this time, he gives you reason to hope for something new. warnings: alcohol use, mentions of drug use, physical fighting, blood, wounds, bruises, mentions of past toxic behavior a/n: your original ask @bitchwitch1981 got swallowed up by tumblr, so i had to create a new post :( but I wanted to say thank you so much for requesting this - it was more therapeutic to write than i initially thought!

1K ask:

Sweet Taylor, Congratulations on the amazing milestone! 💜 I have decided to go for astrology for The Midnight Seance. I have chosen the prompt “Hold my hand please?” “When you ask so nicely.” and my own darling Dieter Bravo.

🤍Masterlist 🤍 Dieter Bravo Masterlist

The damp heat of the night is made worse by the thick knot of chittering spectators by the back alley of the club. You can hear the fleshy blows, hear the flesh rip and tear the veins, the delighted groan of the crowd after a particularly sickening crunch. White lights of camera flashes flicker, the smell of blood acidic on your tongue, the metallic taste getting stronger the closer you get to the front of the crowd. You see the blur of an arm just as you shove aside a man recording the whole scene with his phone; how much will TMZ pay for even seven seconds of that video?

Across from you, a thick shadow with bloody knuckles paces like a caged tiger, snorting with rage, the spectators jeering and howling their approval. The man, twice as thick as you are, waits at the edge of the fight, his vision locked forward, massive hands itching to rip apart something alive. 

Whatever is left alive of the heap of clothes in front of you.

It shudders, arms and legs curling beneath it, and rolls backwards. The crowd lets out a disgusted groan at the sight of the bloody face. Your heart sinks to the sticky concrete.

Oh, Dieter.

Asphalt digs into your knees as you kneel down next to him, the sounds of the crowd fading as panic swells within you. He doesn’t even register that you’re there until you touch his cheek. One eye completely swollen shut, blood running down from his nose over his upper lip, he meets your gaze and flinches. 

“Sorry,” he slurs – either from his split lip or being drunk out of his mind, you can’t tell, “you look like my ex.” 

“Dieter, it’s me.” 

His collar is torn, blood speckles cover the front of his shirt, and his jeans are filthy. Judging by his own shredded knuckles, he might have actually gotten a few good hits in. Gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning. You put a hand on his shoulder, looking for any other open wounds, for more blood – and he shoves you off.

“Go away. I’m kicking this guy’s ass.” 

Groaning, Dieter staggers to his feet, the blood freely flowing from his nose now. He gets upright and immediately stumbles, hands going to his knees, much to the deformed glee of the crowd. They whoop and laugh and hold their phones higher. 

Even in heels, you’re several inches shorter than him and you intentionally didn’t wear that much clothing – you were going to club with your friends to forget – but you try to shield him from the camera lenses anyway. 

From the back of his throat, Dieter spits out a wad of blood. “Fuck, my head hurts.” The drool that slips from his mouth is pink and frothy.

“Dieter, c’mon, we’re going.” 

You drag his arm over your shoulder, shifting as much of his weight onto you as you can. His entire back and underneath his arm is drenched in what you pray is sweat. Behind you, you know the other man is yelling, shouting, something about teaching that fat mouth a lesson, but you do what you’ve alway done when it comes to Dieter: you put yourself between him and an oncoming car crash. 

Hoping a grown man won’t take a full swing with a woman in kitten heels and a slinky dress nearby, you half-push, half-carry Dieter back towards the way you came in, but you make it two more steps before he pushes you away again, his fingertips drifting down your shoulder. His face is twisted up in agony.

“Fuckin’ stop. I don’t need your help.”

You grab him by the bicep, twisting him to you again, and he stumbles, muttering a gruff sorry. Blood from his nose drips down onto your bare chest. He watches it, transfixed, his emotions crackling from one high to the next low. 

You cup his bruised, swollen jaw and his wet eyes meet yours and for an instant, no one else exists. His bottom lip trembles. 

“Dieter” you murmur, low enough for just him to hear, just enough for him to lean forward, to let himself be captured by you – briefly – just as he always had been. “We’re going home, okay?”

He nods, eyes shut, swaying, and lets himself be dragged away. 

Beyond the black partition, you hear music. Too soft to be distinct, too faint. Yet it sits between your teeth all the same, hums in the back of your jaw. Static noise. 

In your lap, lays Dieter’s head. Your skirt feels damp from where the blood from his nose gathers. It stopped dripping minutes ago but the spot still feels cold, still thick with it. Your hand curls in his hair, loose but weighted. Grounding. He always said this was his favorite spot in the entire world. 

You didn’t tell the driver to go east, towards Sherman Oaks, but the opposite direction, towards the rental property you kept by the beach. Before that, home had always been Sherman Oaks, but . . . in the after, you couldn’t even bear to see the name on the sign. 

Partially it’s practical. Given the swarmed mob, there most likely was another one waiting for him at the gates to his mansion. He doesn’t have his phone, you know, which is most likely a curse and a blessing. When it comes to moments like these, you’ve learned to deal with the problem right in front of you, one at a time. Or rather, the one in your lap. 

You swore you’d never be here again, you swore that you’d learn to unremember what here even feels like, and yet you ran to him all the same. This is not the first time you wonder if leaving him bleeding and drooling into the concrete would have been the right thing to do. 

The car drives you both towards the rental because you want him there. You want him to fill up that empty space in your bed, smear the too messy sink in the bathroom with uncharged electric toothbrushes and toothpaste that tastes like cotton candy, and bring a sense of wonder back into your increasingly dark days. But with all that, comes this. The black partition ahead of you blurs, your eyes grow hot and tight, submissive to the beaks of birds, and the back of your fingers not caught in his hair press harshly to the back of your mouth. You fight a shudder because you know he can’t bear to see you cry. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

His apologies always start like this, a little broken, a little roundabout way of getting to the heart of things. You sniff, your hand slipping to his shoulder and grasping it tight. “We don’t have to talk about it right now, okay, baby?”

“I didn’t want you to see me take pills.”

Your head bumps the back of the seat, as you swallow a sob and a laugh all at once. You squeeze him – no, no, of course not, you never mean it, you never mean any of it — 

“My therapist said they would help. And then they did. But I couldn’t get you back.”

He mutters something, rubbing his face slowly in your lap, like a blind kitten, his big hand over your knees, but you’re too stunned to parse out his babbling. 

“You went to therapy?” 

“Still in it.” He wheezes through a bruised rib. “She’s gonna be so pissed about this.” 

“You’re not high?” 

He shake-rubs his head again, the curls at his forehead catching against the sequins of your top. “Just drunk. I fucking hate being drunk.” 

He babbles some more, the words looped on tangled string, but you sit up, and gently turn his face towards you. The bleeding has stopped, but the swelling has set in. His right eye is black and blue, the skin puffy and tender. There’s a cut across his left cheek and his lip is split down the middle. Fuck, if these don’t heal right, that could be the end of his career. 

Goddamn it – and why would you care about that? It’s not your job to care anymore. 

You reverently trace a finger over his black eye, his cheek, his lips, to the blood on his temple. Tragedy always looked so good on him. 

His hand catches yours. You think his good eye might be filled with tears.

“I tried to get better . . . for you. For us. I took all the right pills, instead of the wrong ones this time, and I thought I was better.” Dieter shifts, so his back is against the seat and he’s looking straight up at you. He holds your hand to his chest, his other rising up to cup your cheek. That single touch cracks your resolve, your rule against letting him affect you, and you cry. He watches the silent tears roll down your cheeks, over his thumb. You think he looks remorseful. “I tried to get better and you moved on without me.”

It only just now occurs to you that he had most likely been inside the club when you had, had probably seen you and never said anything. He watched you dance and drink and try to forget him with other sweaty bodies and he never said a thing.

Bruised anger, the kind that melts off your ribs, flares bright within you and you jerk your face away from his touch.

“You don’t get to blame me for your shit anymore, Dieter.” 

His fingers curl and he swallows, the dried blood around his mouth cracking. “No, baby, I’m not. I’m not. I’m sorry I ever did. I didn’t mean it, I never mean it – never meant to hurt you. But I do, don’t I? I hurt you all the time.” 

Your anger throbs. “Then why? Why, Dieter, would you wait to get help until after I was gone? Didn’t you want to try . . . to salvage something, anything between us?”

His hand drops to his chest. 

“I didn’t want you to see me take pills.”

You suddenly recognize the weight of his head on your lap, the density of his shoulders against your lap, and you, in a cycle of regret and love, want to scream at him. Want to shake him. Instead you brush his sticky curls off his forehead and a single tear escapes the corner of his eye, down his temple. 

“You silly, silly boy.” You sniff, tears freely flowing, and curl a strand of his beautiful hair in your fingers. “I would have been there for you. I’m glad you got help, and I hate that this was a relapse, but I would never have judged you for trying to get better, even if you failed. You were the one who didn't want me to see that side of you, Dieter. I never stopped loving you.”

For a moment, he goes still, the darkness of the night street obscuring his face, blurring him into one dark shadow that wheezed and sighed. You’re about to seek out his hand in the dark, if not his face, not his wounds, when he lets out the most broken noise you’d ever heard come from anyone. 

It’s a noise that will haunt you in nightmares for years to come.

“Oh,” he says. 

The car rolls to a stop, the faint music barely heard over the rush and crash of the waves on the other side of your rental. The radio goes silent and the partition rolls down. 

“We’re here, miss.” 

You wipe your eyes, mascara streaks turning your finger tips black, and cough to clear the knot in your throat that beats in time with your heart. Hands curling under his shoulders, you move to lift him up off your lap.

“C’mon, Dieter, we’ve gotta get you cleaned up–,”

“Wait.” He visibly swallows, nothing else on his face so clear in the dark. You feel a faint drop on your skirt. “I mean, I’ll go but . . . hold my hand – please?” 

Despite yourself, despite him, despite your tear-drenched lips, you lean down and kiss his forehead. Your shared shaky breaths are trapped between your chest and his.  “Only when you ask so nicely.”

+

[weirdmageddon]

💿⚛️ davejade headcanons

sorry for leaving you guys waiting on this for like a week lol i kept being like “tomorrow for sure” but falling asleep but anyway here it is. i might add more to this if i think if anything but reblogs might not reflect the up to date source version so you can always find it here

most of these are pointing out stuff thats basically canon anyway but whatever lol. basically canon headcanons

dave tries to impress jade to get her attention because he likes her

this ones for you *misses hoop by 5 feet*

he doesnt mind jade’s inane riddles honestly. he isn’t perturbed by how she just knows things like rose is, because he doesnt think into it too far. he trusts her

he spends a lot of time indulging in her interests and showers her in his music and poetry

they draw things for each other a lot <3 jade has the pictionary modus and seems pretty good at drawing and of course dave sent her sbahj as furries in the mail. sending jpegs over the internet is BABY NONSENSE. real boys send their childhood friend/crush pictures they drew for them through the INTERNATIONAL POSTAL SYSTEM to an unspecified island in the middle of nowhere, pacific ocean that gets packages dropped by plane so the recipient can tangibly hold it and hang it in their room

actually i was going through the commentary and hussie addresses it as such:

“Also notice her SBaHJ furry poster, which was clearly a very thoughtful gift from Dave”

aww

jade would give dave a "cool" plushie of a tiger or something nd he keeps it on his desk . froot’s beautiful idea

he loves her plushie sensibilities. so much less unnerving than his bro’s phallic puppets. they're still soft but no cognitive dissonance this time about the softness coming from foam puppet ass hoorayyy

theyre still reading homestuck on act 4 but they understood them instantly

jade humors dave’s ironic cool facade because it makes dave feel more comfortable without feeling too exposed, but it’s because of this that he feels like he can open up to her because she isnt prying. (im still not over the smile here btw. only jade could make dave smile after a fucked evening where he spilled juice on his turntables and accidentally skewered an innocent crow with his sword and broke his window this mf is TYPING. also getting a bit of joy out of the fact that the only visible suit on his cards-themed bedcover in this panel is a heart)

but he knows that jade is not unaware of what he's hiding. couldnt even refute her lol

from the knight’s perspective, it’s “i’m not as [blank] as i appear. i want you know that about me if i know you well and trust you, or i DON’T want you to know that about me if i DON’T know you well. the reason is that i want to know that i can trust you to avoid turning my insecurity into a Whole Thing”

basically she allows dave to take initiative when HE feels comfortable and confident in sharing the things he’s self-conscious about. this really helps him be comfortable and form a strong bond with her

dave would wrap his arms around her to “ironically” imitate a pair of tangle buddy squiddles (while actually concealing genuine affection basically unbeknownst to himself) but he winds up looking just a little too into it for just an “ironic” bit yall……

jade is slower to realize her deeper feelings since she shows love to everyone (so long as theyre deserving of it!!!) it just hits her one day that she actually Likes him in a special way, while for dave it is more dynamic and gradual but very on the downlow, expressed in creative acts and services

once dave actually recognizes he’s really caught feelings for her down the line, dave and jade happily do the tangle buddies hug all the time. its like their handshake. its their weird couple thing

these two when together as a unit they do not give a shit about what other people think of them

this shit lol:

Creative Fucking Powerhouse the two of them

davejade ass song to me

jade is quite spacey and super appreciates dave’s level-headedness and steady pragmatism while at the same time not being a rigid stick in the mud about it. for example when they were acting as each others’ server players dave was advising her but it was appreciated by jade

sorry its just literally socionics duality LITERALLY THIS IS THEMMM (also i spent WAY too much time making these graphics and integrating texts from multiple sources please appreciate it)

fittingly with that, as ouroborista writes about the opposite space-time aspect dichotomy,

Space and Time are the fundamental Aspect pair. Their job is to make shit take place. To create novelty. Between them they span not only all of existence but also the inseparable twin approaches of any creative project. Space goes for breadth, for ideas, for expansive, holistic input, while Time goes for needlepoint focus and a rapid-turnover ability to pull through on the prompt. There’s a reason why these are the two Aspects necessary for any successful session of SBURB.

jade is literally always having a little giggle about him. dave is a funny guy. lame court jester ass boyfriend

he’d draw his post-ironic fursona and show it to her with the usual deadpan expression on his face, eyes obscured by his shades. but jade will look at it and when he sees her smile and laugh it makes it all worth it. his cheeks feel warm and he’ll smile slightly like “heh heh”. dave the type to smile like an idiot over anything jade does like his mouth keeps making a thin line and hes trying to fight it but . Jade

dave thought jade looked absolutely stunning in her 3 in the morning dress his mouth probably stupidly hung open the tiniest amount seeing her after swapping into it

of course she only wears it for what she considers "very special occasions"…..spending time with dave seemed to be a very special occasion :)

jade think dave looks sharp in his suits!!

imagine jade adjusting daves crooked bowtie and lapel and his palms start to sweat and he darts his eyes from behind his shades and chews the inside of his cheek she making him nervous bro 💯

jade is definitely the teaser and dave is the teased. still i dont think jade teases dave as much as john and rose which is why he feels more comfortable opening up to her about his shit. her teasings are much lighter and inconsequential

despite how funny and informal he is dave is a classy well-put-together romantic. he is responsible and harmonious in how he choses to present himself. remember when he got secondhand embarrassment from rose when she was drunk before her date with kanaya and he suggested to her and kanaya that the two reschedule? … he’d NEVER do something like that. sober. suit is ON. hair is neatly combed. he is right on time, not too early not too late, and his first words are “yo whats up”

dave has this designated driver energy about him

after dogtiering jade’s dog ears can perk and flatten, adding even more expressiveness

jade has so many hobbies and interests i think she’d get dave into horticulture somehow unironically

theyre both the kinda mf to ask “would you still love me if i were a worm”

dave’s hands are warm

jade’s skin can be cool to the touch in some places like the back of her arms or shoulders and dave places his hands there to warm them. or by rubbing them or something

idk just some associations space is cool and time is warm to me. the vaccuum of space is cold and time is associated with gears which are associated with generating heat and dave’s classical element is fire and jade’s is earth and her planet is initially covered in snow and daves is covered in lava idk…. just makes symbolic sense i guess but its also cute in its own right

dave would love going to the beach with jade on earth c cause the ocean is so boob i mean boob i mean boob i m,ean boob i mean SHIT . blue. blue

this Fucking animation bro

she infodumps about science and he sits his ass down to listen

jade does this (excuse the fact that the url is roselalonde)

[itwdoris]

author notes; dada is just a title and does not refer to the literal, all characters are aged up.

tw; dada!yuuji, milking, mentions of cum drinking.

★

itadori was very dedicated to being a good dada, and he only wanted to make you happy, with his hand going faster and faster, your little bottle in front of his cock, getting more and more filled with his cum.

his breathing hadn't worked properly for a while, sweat on his forehead and red skin. he thrusting against his own tired hand, throwing his head back and opening his mouth to slurred moan your name.

holding your little bottle so that he wouldn't waste anything, eyes barely open as he whimpered, cumming again.

his mind was blank. he tried to breathe properly while keeping his eyes closed, running his hand over his aching cock, feeling it soften little by little and hurrying to keep it hard.

yuuji thought so much about seeing you happy, imagining how your pretty little face would look, imagining you drinking all his cum. but that was only enough for a little over half the bottle, and he still needed more.

he needed motivation.

so he thought about you in his bedroom, sleeping calmly with that tiger plush he had given you, wearing only his blouse.

biting his lip at the thought... and then he understood, starting to move his hand little by little, his mind wandering to dirty thoughts.

he imagined how beautiful you looked with your mouth on his cock, trying hard to suck it all, drooling on everything. ah, he could almost feel your tongue against his tip, lips swollen from sucking on it like a pacifier.

and how you always drank all the cum, how beautiful it looked dripping down your face, down your tits... all over your ass. oh fuck. seeing you covered in his cum was really something to dream about.

he was leaking so much, smiling as he saw your bottle getting fuller. he just needed to keep going...

and yuuji's mind was good at it, because he could remember the best ones, like the way you whimper when he shove his cock into your needy hole. if he squeezes it with his hand he can remember almost what it feels like, moaning with pleasure.

oh, and how he loves to stick his face in your folds to drink your juices, your piss, and how beautiful you look when you're drinking his piss, how he loves to see your pussy leaking it.

he's doing so well, moaning loudly, combusting with every image, every thought that comes from them. his cock crying and crying, dirty hand moving up and down with ease, veins being squeezed.

because you looked so beautiful when you were being destroyed by his cock, so beautiful sucking his fingers, so beautiful swallowing his spit. he could hardly stand it.

imagining you moaning and squirming as he suck your tits, balls deep in you, squeezing your ass. fucking you so much, anywhere, thrusting until he rip you in half.

oh, imagining your pussy leaking his cum, so full of it, making you hold it inside like when you keep him warm all night.

if before there was still a shortage, now your bottle could overflow.

itadori could barely stand, cumming in his own hands and sobbing, trying to breathe properly. he leaned on the table, feeling his whole body pulsing in his ears.

he picked up the small bottle with dirty, slightly trembling hands, closed it and watched it overflow a little, satisfied with it.

yuuji couldn't wait to give it to his puppy.

oh lords, we've just reached 100 followers, like, you guys read this blog fr? also thanks you if u do and like it too, sorry all the nasty strange stuff, love you <3 =)

[adachimoe]

How the bad endings teach us something about Adachi

I'm gonna preface this by saying that there is a "no-fun allowed" answer from Atlus. But I think you can come to this conclusion even without their no-fun allowed, developer corner, Word of God statement from the Premium Fan Book. I will do my best to hopefully express this before just posting the no-fun allowed comment at the end.

In my opinion, this is the absolute character defining line for Adachi:

At this point in time, you've identified Adachi as the culprit, chased him into the TV, heard his insane rant on December 7th, then went back to kick his ass, and beat him in his boss fight.

Before Amenosagiri hijacks him, he has some words about his situation. Despite his ramblings about haves vs have nots and about the whole "ooh look at you you have FRIENDS and PEOPLE and BONDS", he doesn't express any of that after his boss battle. There's no, "See, the world is unfair, you guys ganged up on me 7 vs 1!!" or any kind of delulu bullshit. He just says that the world is fucked and he didn't have anywhere to go back to.

When you think about the game until now, Adachi was trying to fit in to society as a normal person. Despite what he felt about women, it's not as though he walked around town in broad daylight using Tiger Drop on random schoolgirls. He didn't murder 2 ppl then also become a cop who was like, trying to use his powers to moonlight as a Magical Assassin or something. He didn't even, gasp, suggest that you teenagers try a little underage drinking.

When Adachi says, "I didn't have anywhere to go back to", it's because by exposing him as the murderer, he thinks you've taken away his ability to fit into society. Despite his ranting, for him to admit that he has nowhere left to back to, means that he knows that he's what's "wrong" and he's what doesn't "fit"; "rapey murderer" is not acceptable in reality.

What's more is that, after Amenosagiri's boss battle, when Adachi realizes that is super duper extremely over, he says he thinks you came to kill him. And -- despite being a murderer himself -- he indirectly advises you not to take the same path as him by telling you to just leave him there.

Because, again, he knows he's the part that's wrong. He doesn't belong in society anymore, but that doesn't mean all 8 of you (ain't counting Teddie, he doesn't have human rights) have to be on the outside of society and have murder in common.

At which point, Yosuke (and Kanji) point out that he *does* still belong to society, just in a jail cell:

That is how it works in the "real world", the world Adachi ran away from. Can't even call it a metaphor or subtle or something; the dude physically ran away from your party and jumped into a TV to retreat into the magic TV world.

Finally, after actually coming out of the TV, he learns that not even Dojima had discarded him:

Despite Adachi's perception that he doesn't belong anywhere, he learns that he does still belong. Not in the way he would like to belong, of course, but if he is a law abiding citizen, then there is a place for him.

Then December 23rd and New Years rolls around, and the world is fine.

And now, the bad endings

There are multiple bad endings in the game. First off, if you kill Namatame or can't convince the team to keep reaching out to the truth, then time fastforwards to March 20th and the protagonist leaves Inaba without solving the case. The city is fine, Shadows aren't running around, but the fog is still around. While the fog seems bad, it also doesn't seem *as* bad as it is in the dungeon failure ending.

If you refuse to handover Adachi's name and instead protect him, then time fastforwards to March 20th, Adachi gives you his phone number, tells you he'll keep in touch. Again: The city is fine, but the fog is still around.

On the other hand, when you do corner Adachi and are on the path for the good ending, then on December 7th, he tells you that the world will end by the end of the year, and this is why you must clear his dungeon.

But if you fail to clear Magatsu Inaba by the deadline of December 23rd, then the fog will be quite thick, even in your bedroom. Naoto will call you as she's attacked by what I am assuming is townspeople who have turned into Shadows.

Basically, it seems that one thing Adachi was not lying about on December 7th was what's going to happen by the end of the year.

The difference

So we have the usual bad ending and the Adachi ending where it's March 20th and even though there's fog, the world didn't end and people aren't running around as Shadows.

And then we have the dungeon failure game over where Adachi's threat about the world ending by the end of the year has come true and Naoto gets attacked.

From talking about this game with people on the internet for the past 1.5 years, I have learned that people consider this to be a plot hole or inconsistency, and is part of why "Persona 4's plot is bad and doesn't make sense".

The attempts I have seen to explain it are people who parrot Hiding in Private's video where he suggests that in the Adachi Ending, since you willingly helped cover for the murders, Izanami allows you to spend your remaining time in Inaba in peace. But this explanation makes no sense for the killed Namatame or didn't pursue the truth endings, where you fastforward to March 20th and everything is fine it's just foggy. You didn't willingly help cover for the murders there, you just gave up.

But both of these - Hiding's explanation and calling it a "plot hole because Persona 4 Plot Bad" - are both glossing over what I think is a pretty huge, key detail: In the endings where time skips to March and Inaba is fine, Adachi did not go into the TV, whereas in the ending where the world actually gets screwed, you cornered Adachi and he went inside the TV.

Which in turn reveals what is going on and why Adachi's line after his boss battle is so important: Even though Amenosagiri is the source of the power to screw over the world through the fog, the world is ending because Adachi wants it to. You revealed that he's a murderer and he doesn't belong anywhere anymore, so screw the world! It sucks now! Get rid of it!

It's selfish and it's childish, but we are talking about Adachi.

And now, a detour about Amenosagiri

I think it is a reoccurring thing in media that, even though there is some "interference" from these beings of higher power (e.g. Izanami giving people powers, and her picking a guy who represented "emptiness" and a guy who represented "despair" lol), it is ultimately humans that cause everything to go to shit, and the heroes -- who believe life is worth living even tho some humans do suck -- must fix it.

Adachi's desire to just end it all after the truth comes to light that he's the murderer fits in with this trope. Yes, he had a magic power that he normally wouldn't have and he got a bit silly, but it was ultimately him being weird about a woman who didn't know he even existed that spiraled into this chain of events that ended up with him being exposed and the world almost ending.

I have read interpretations that, since Golden also included the line about Izanami putting Amenosagiri in Adachi (it didn't exist in the PS2 version), that means that Adachi was just following a script and Amenosagiri made him kill people and end the world and all that. I'm not really a fan of this. "Adachi did it because demonic eyeball possession" feels like a huge cop out, as it would also shift blame away from him for murdering people and just generally being a shitty human being. It also raises questions like, "If Amenosagiri made Adachi evil, why did he throw up when he saw Mayumi's corpse / why did he only kill 2 people / why did he even say the line about not belonging in the world", amongst many other questions.

If Amenosagiri is so linked to Adachi as this suggests, why does Adachi even appear in foggy shopping district on dungeon deadlines to check for dead bodies??? Like, if he's linked to the observer from the TV world who has been watching the Investigation Team, and this observer has been controlling him, then why does he not already know the victim was rescued? I think the point of the line added into Golden (I don't think you even see it unless you do Marie's SLink?) seems to be "trying to explain for the player why Namatame and Adachi turn into the Sagiri dudes", cause that shit just kinda came out of nowhere in the PS2 game.

Notably, the game tries to address the "Ame controlling Adachi" thing right after Ame's boss fight, as if the writer read the player's mind, and thought you might be wondering about the same thing:

Chie, I believe she asks this because she is trying to understand what is going on with Adachi. If you can blame it on, "He did it because he had a demon eyeball photo lens inside of him telling him what to do", then you don't have to think about this any further, do you? Case closed. Naoto does not fully dismiss this idea, but voices her opinion that Adachi must have been down to end the world too. Which then goes back to Adachi saying he has nowhere left to go; I think Naoto is on the right track here.

But why is there fog

I think what trips people up during the "skip to March 20th" bad endings is the presence of the fog - does that not mean the world is still fucked, even tho Adachi didn't enter the TV?

The game itself uses the fog as a metaphor for lies and misconceptions and assuming that humans don't really want the truth. Like, after you solve the murder case, Amenosagiri does you a solid and instantly clears the fog from the real world. In the ending where you kill Namatame, the truth of the murder did not come to light. In the ending where you didn't kill Namatame but gave up on the truth, the truth again did not come to light. In the Adachi ending, you willingly buried the truth of the murders, and the truth stayed buried there as well.

I don't think the fog is present to communicate "The world is fucked", I think it's just saying that the case is unsolved. After all, the people still believe Namatame did it and in 2 of those endings he is going on trial as the protagonist leaves town, meaning people are still under the impression he's the murderer.

Curiously, on December 16th, Kondo brings up how Inaba gets covered in fog every 50 years. The validity of this, though, is left a mystery because he then says he heard it about on TV, which we know from the game isn't exactly the most reliable source of info lol. (I vaguely recall a different NPC, an older guy, talking about this too, but I can't quite remember which one it is. Maybe it was Daidara?)

On the other hand, despite "people being tricked by the media" being like a theme in the game, none of the other NPCs seem to have heard this TV special or news or whatever that Kondo heard because the majority of the other NPCs are freaking out and buying gas masks, assuming the fog is actually poison. One of them even believes that it's some conspiracy theory caused by Junes. Kondo suggesting that whatever he heard on TV is correct seems level headed compared to the poison gas conspiracy theories that the rest of the town is buying into.

But when you learn that Izanami is behind everything, I feel like that sequence of events gives some validity to what Kondo heard.

It makes it seem more like, every 50 years, Izanami gets a little silly, gives people powers, and then watches what unfolds. Thus, when you stop Izanami in the true ending, you are also stopping the cycle, which the protagonist recognizes.

Lastly, the no-fun allowed answer

From the Premium lore/setting book:

Discovering the truth, the self-proclaimed special investigation team have cornered Adachi, who enters the TV and wants the world to end with reality being swallowed by the Midnight Channel. If Marie is the one who listens to human wishes, then Adachi is the one who wished for his own very self-centered wish to become reality.

I believe the purpose of Naoto and Chie's dialogue was to suggest what the meta explanation was ("I think he wanted to end the world too") while still keeping it in-universe and in-character.

[llamagoddessofficial]

some more of @aka-indulgence's lovely HMF Sans... tw, a fight and some blood, but it's over pretty quickly.

---

“E-erm... so... what can I get for you all?”

... You weren’t prepared for this. Nothing could ever prepare you for this. You hardly had the emotional capacity to serve one frightening mob guy, and he did little more than stare at you and order the same one thing every day.

Today? There were three other men at his table with him.

I didn’t sign up for this.

They were human, but they looked important- pretty damn important. Expensive cut suits, fine cigars in their mouths, they weren’t the usual rabble that stumbled into this bar. They looked like the kinds of people who would consider Sans their peer. 

... Though notably, they sat across the table from him, none willing to sit close to the beast himself. It seemed like even those at Sans’ level of society were afraid of him.

You couldn’t blame them.

You had waited until they’d all stopped talking before you approached. You were terrified of being accused of eavesdropping on something you weren’t supposed to hear. Your hands shifted around your notepad, and you glanced at the skeleton... he was quietly tapping a claw against the table. For some reason, you couldn’t pin why, you were slightly comforted by the fact that Sans was far more frightening than any of the new men- though the human men certainly were intimidating none of them even came close to being as scary as the massive skeleton monster you’d been serving the past few days. He absolutely dwarfed them, both physically, and in terms of sheer presence. Like a tiger sitting at a table with a few alleycats.

(Would that make you a mouse, then?)

... Sans looked just as ‘pleased’ as you to have them there; you’d been around him enough to start recognising a few of his expressions, and the one he was wearing at that moment was a scowl sharp enough to cut glass, jagged and scarred face shadowed heavily by his hat. The whole time you’d been watching them, waiting for the right moment to come in and ask for their order, the human men had been exclusively the ones talking- Sans had barely moved from his slightly slouched position, and he hadn’t said a single word. He usually chose the seat closest to the wall, but today, he’d chosen the seat closest to the edge. You momentarily considered that he might want to be closer to you... but you disregarded the thought. It was probably because he wanted to leave.

“What an ugly bar, Sans. Why did you make us come here?” said the guy directly opposite Sans. You were half offended, half inclined to agree, it probably just wasn’t the kind of place he was used to visiting. “It’s out of the way, I’ll give you that. But it’s dark, and it stinks.”

... He turned to you. You didn’t like the way his moustache moved when he grinned at you. You could smell smoke on his breath, your hair prickled.

His voice was patronising. “Took yer damn time gettin’ over here. Get us a few beers, yeah, girl? And try to pick up the pace a little.”

He leaned over... and smacked your ass.

You barely had time for the disgust to hit you.

Sans reached across the table and slammed the guy’s head, face first, into the table’s surface. Full force. The slam was so loud you felt it in your chest, and the force of the impact sent the little ashtray flying and spitting cigarette butts into the air. You let out a tiny scream of terror and jumped back, dropping your notepad- the two other men at the table startled like spooked horses, the one sitting closest to the offending human swore loudly and moved in his seat like he wanted to jump up and run.

The man sat up, clutching his nose, blood trailing from between his fingers. You staggered away. But Sans wasn’t done, he stood, suddenly at his full height, looming over the human men like the goliath he was... his face was obscured by shadow, but you had never seen his eyelight that bright or small, constricted in total fury. He reached over again, grabbing the guy by the collar of his expensive shirt, dragging the struggling human up with him as he left the table. 

He cleared the bar floor in a few moments, he walked like he was carrying little more than a bag of groceries; moving like he wasn’t thinking. He threw the guy up against the counter, grabbed a loose beer glass in his offhand, and crashed it hard around his head- glass shards sprayed out at all angles, showering the countertop. Everyone was watching Sans throw this guy around like a ragdoll.

... 

Sans paused. He looked over his shoulder; his eyelight landed on you. Your back was against a table, hands twisted in your apron in fear. When he looked at you, you flinched.

...

He exhaled sharply through his nasal cavity. He turned back to the battered, bleeding human- but now, something was missing from his massive body. You didn’t know what it was. He unceremoniously dragged the guy away from the counter, to the doorway.

... Sans kicked open the door, and literally threw him out. Lobbing the human out into the street, as if just tossing the trash. The miniscule amount of effort he needed to (one-handedly) toss a fully grown man a significant distance was a terrifying visual testament to the strength the whole bar had just witnessed.

Turning around, he probably knew the everyone’s eyes were on him. The total silence said everything. But he didn’t seem to care... he made his way back to the table, passing you wordlessly.

He sat heavily into his seat.

...

He wouldn’t make eye contact with you. He suddenly looked like a child, caught in a lie, hunched and avoidant. 

...

You didn’t know what to say.

...

One of the two men shuffled in his seat. You glanced over at him- looked at you, and spoke. 

“I’ll, uhm... just get a water. Please.” He said, quietly. “ ...Miss.”

...

“S-sure. I’ll... get that for you now.” You said.

[somewhat-insane]

Okay, so, I know a lot of people were discouraged after the LMK S5 trailer. The art is different, yes, but remember there are still people working behind the screen; passionate about this story they're trying to tell. To rebuild faith and re-spark hope, I'm going through the trailer frame by frame and sharing anything cool I find. (There is some (what I hope is) constructive criticism in here, but I would like to reiterate something other fans have said. DO. NOT. HARRASS. ANYONE. WORKING. ON. THE. SHOW. They're doing their best with what they have available to them. We're lucky Wildbrain decided to pick the show back up because if they hadn't, we may not have gotten the rest of the story.)

They've been brought in front of the council to discuss their car's extended warranty. ALSO WHERE IS MK'S JACKET AND BANDANA? THEY WHOLE ASS PROBABLY SNATCHED THIS POOR BOY OUT OF HIS BED WHILE HE WAS SLEEPING

Don't worry, babygirl, I still think you're pretty ^3^

Okay, they gave him his clothes back, phew.

Hehe, tiny monkies.

At least our child is still adorable.

Synchronized heart attack.

He is so traumatized, lol. Someone brought up how this design for the circlet wasn't the previously established design in the show, but it COULD be based on the design used on the cover of the Journey to the West novel (as seen below)

It's not exactly the same but the shape is similar.

Anyway.

WUKONG ANGST WUKONG ANGST WUKONG ANGST

I'm realizing while doing this that Wildbrain doesn't use as many smear frames as Flying Bark did. As funny as it is to pause and see something like this in season 1-4:

It makes the animation look a LOT smoother and more energetic. Flying Bark also seems to use more frame-by-frame while Wildbrain probably uses more tweening. I suppose it makes sense though because Wildbrain is more used to 3D animation and the 2D animation they have done in the past is more paper-doll-like and doesn't need as much bounce and action.

Back to the trailer, no need to dwell.........

MO. HANG IN THERE.

MONKEY ANGST MONKEY ANGST MONKEY ANGST aposhdgpafoshdfosfapsdofpa

Oooh, wait, this frame actually kinda goes hard. I'm kinda hyped... I should draw this.

NO BRO DON'T MAKE ME CRY JUST BECAUSE OF A TRAILER

You know what this makes me think of...? Did any of you guys ever play that game called "Journey"?

It's a beautiful game with beautiful music. Y'all should play it if you haven't. Oh, and sometimes if you're playing at the same time as someone else in the world, your games will merge and you get a little play buddy :3

Genuinely love how distressed he is here.

SHADOWPEACH ANGST SHADOWPEACH ANGST

Looks like we're still gonna get cool backgrounds and background character designs!!!!

This looks like it may be some kind of storybook or memory sequence like when Chang'e was talking about how she found the ring in S3 or when LBD was talking about Macaque's death... what memory do you think we're going to be exploring this time?

This goes pretty hard. I would paint this on a wall or something.

Mk is flabbergasted.

Yay!! Mk has the support he needs. ALSO MORE SANDY

They're mortified. Probably because they just watched a giant dragon and white tiger fucking evaporate.

Hehe bord

I can't wait to see fanart of him. I'm so excited!

SHADOWPEACH SHADOWPEACH SHADOWPEACH

He's thinking about kissing him, honest.

I think he's purty

MORE PIGSY-

I've run out of room for pictures, but I hope this helped get y'all all hyped again for the new season! Have hope, stay strong!

[gatorbites-imagines]

hii can i pretty please request the 141 + the other guys (könig, alejandro, graves, whatever lol) w/ a reader who just kinda repeats the phrases or last could words they say? kinda like a parrot lmao

i'm autistic and it's one of the things i do 💀

Cod Boys

Headcanons

couldnt think of a gif to add, so heres a tiger.

I have a lot of Echolalia (repeating noises or words you hear) too, so same. I added Horangi too, cuz I love that guy and there isn’t anything about him in the x reader tags.

John Price

Price honestly finds it endearing, he thinks its cute that you repeat things he says, especially if you weren’t British and were to copy his accent. I could imagine him growing so used to it he doesn’t even realize you do it anymore.

He wouldn’t be annoyed by it either as its just part of who you are, and he’s just happy you feel safe letting yourself verbally stim around him. He also finds its fun to know what media you’ve been watching, or if you’ve been paying attention to what he’s said.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Gaz would just find it quirky, he might even find it charming in a way. He knows its not something where you choose who or what you repeat, but he still likes that its him you repeat stuff from.

You both end up walking around and repeating the same things, you because you repeat stuff because that’s just how you are, and Gaz because he’s been around you long along to start to develop the same habit, but only when it comes to you.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

He is also autistic, but where you copy noises or words, he’s the silent staring kind. He doesn’t speak a lot as we know, so he’s a little surprised the first time you repeat what he says, especially when you don’t even seem to realize you’re doing it.

Ghost ends up developing Echolalia as well, but only copies stuff you say or things like animal noises, and only when it’s the two of you alone together as he masks around other people.

John “Soap” MacTavish

Soap loves it when you copy or repeat stuff he says or noises he makes, it finds it cute and special as its something just so you, at least in your group. He would never look down on you for it either, as its not something you can really control.

He has tried to make you repeat the dumbest stuff and there’s no stopping him, and if he succeeds, he just starts snickering. Soap laughing is what makes you realize you must have said something funny, which only makes him laugh even more.

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro starts calling you bird or parrot as a nickname, especially if you are the type to copy animal noises. He finds it funny when you mimic Spanish words if you aren’t a native Spanish speaker.

He’s honestly impressed with how well you can say stuff in Spanish if it isn’t a language you speak. It just becomes a thing he finds comfort in, since it means your there, alive, and well. So if you were to go quiet for longer periods of time, he might worry a bit.

Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

Rudy doesn’t speak as much as everyone else, so he finds it a little endearing that you repeat the stuff he says as it means you were at least subconsciously paying attention to him and what he said.

I could imagine Rudy liking to just sit together in mostly silence, so when he does speak there’s pretty much a 100% chance you’ll mimic whatever he said, which he finds nice as it helps him feel some kind of normalcy, since you are there with him.

Phillip Graves

He would think you were mocking him in the beginning, until he realizes it’s something you do with everybody and you might not even realize you are doing it unless someone points it out. He never says anything about it, since its just part of who you are.

Graves will rip someone a new asshole if they were rude to you about it though, he may be an ass to most people, but you are one of his so he watches out for you. He doesn’t show it but he cares, in his own way.

König

König doesn’t speak a whole lot outside of missions, so you’d most likely copy him during missions or similar. This ends up with you two repeating copy over and over, over the comms. It becomes almost a little game, which helps put you both at ease during stressful times.

If you copy his German hed find is sweet, as it helps him feel a little more at ease since he’s most likely far away from his home country. So even if you don’t speak German, it helps him come out of his shell a little.

Kim "Horangi" Hong-Jin

Horangi would think you were making fun or him or mocking him, but seeing as you just do it as regularly as you do and don’t realize he doesn’t pick a fight like he might have, if anybody else did it.

He ends up growing to like that you do it, and he will throw hands with anyone who tries to make you uncomfortable about it or insults you for it. He starts speaking more Korean around you, just wanting you to repeat words in his mother tongue even if you don’t understand it.

[zootopiathingz]

Ranking the main fandoms I’ve been in (and I’m going to be brutally honest)

Hazbin Hotel: 5/10

For the most part I’ve enjoyed it here. Every person I’ve met at a convention was super sweet and the HH themed events I went to were the most fun I’ve had in a while. Fortunately I personally haven’t had a lot of negative interactions, but the fandom as a whole…not so great. A lot of rude people, fatphobia, racism, people being stupid and not understanding what a fanon ship is or what bisexual means😐 I’m mainly still here just to vibe with my Charlastor shippers (aka the most chill people I’ve ever met in a fandom ever)

Gravity Falls: 8/10

It was dead for a while but now that a lot of fans are coming back and it’s amazing. Aside from all the stupid ass Mabel haters, I’ve always loved this fandom and being apart of it

Zootopia: 7.5/10

Aside from the over-sexualization of that one mf tiger and being dead the last six years, this fandom’s pretty chill

Owl House: 9/10

Would be a 10 except I remember there being quite a lot of toxicity back in the early days. I kinda had to separate myself from the fans for a while because I just didn’t care for the drama and eventually I lost interest in the show for a bit. But I still enjoyed it as it started to wrap up, and the fandom seemed to mellow out. It’s been quiet for a while now, aside from harassing the person in charge of Disney TVA’s instagram asking for a season 4 (it’s never going to happen guys)

Disney/Pixar: 10/10

No complaints tbh. Everyone seems super chill, hardly any drama, the content is just 🤌🏻

Super Mario Bros: 9/10

Again, would be a 10 because literally everybody I’ve met is super nice and supportive. But I have to dock points cuz of those hardcore Bowser stans who genuinely defend/justify his actions 😶 like what are y’all on??

Gnomeo and Juliet: ♾️/10

Only three other people in this fandom but they are the sweetest three people ever

[eepop-stuffs]

Edit: made this when i was an uniformed CHILD. The youtube channel isn't reliable💀

Tobe is 14. Garu is 12. Which means if it was anyone, it would HAVE to be his father.

Oh my god. I'm gonna rant. OK. So previously I was ranting about this to some people on discord (I sent the same rant to three different servers, it's your guys' turn)

So basically, in one of the various licensed Pucca games, there's a cutscene that reveals that Tobe killed Garu's father while Garu watched. However, this makes absolutely no sense given their canon ages and overall dynamic.

Below is the big rant, prepare for me to speak absolute nonsense.

So according to the Pucca YouTube channel, Tobe is 16 and Garu is 12.

In the cutscene, the VERY oldest Garu could be is about 6 or 7. Which would make Tobe about 10. I personally don't believe that bro would be doing allat at 10 years old given the fact he's regularly represented as utterly useless on his own (at least compared to Pucca and Garu combined, which is admittedly like comparing a housecat to a tiger). Assuming they're a little older than my prediction, placing the cutscene a little bit before the show, that would make it a little more plausable with Tobe being in his earlier teens (but honestly not by much).

But considering the Pucca lore is so generally fucked up due to the amount of retcons (Pucca being listed as 10 before being changed to 11 later on being a good example), let's assume that Tobe is at least a little bit younger than Garu's dad and Garu is a small child. Everything makes sense considering the timeline now, but that would leave their dynamic.

Their overall dynamic is the key reason this cutscene makes no fucking sense whatsoever and I personally choose to ignore it.

So, Tobe and Garu are more like frenemies than anything. For one, the only real reason that Garu seems to engage with Tobe's very non-specific "vengance" is his own ego. (In season one and two of the show, at least) it's evident that Garu fights Tobe half because of his friends and family and half out of spite.

Like, Garu just can't let him win. In the episode The Sooga Showdown (season 1 episode 19) where they all have to race around Sooga with one of Master Soo's ladies, we're given a good example of how much their rivalry is just one big dick measuring contest.

Secondly, that nonspecific "vengance" Tobe wants seems more like Tobe was wronged. Which could just be his goofy ass POV of how things went, but that's sort of reaching given all the information we have.

AND MOST IMPORTANTLY;

In addition to all this, they are really just rivals. Like, when they aren't blinded by their little rivalry, they're shown to actually like each other's company. They don't seem to mind each other when they're forced to not be physically violent. If it wasn't for their egos, they'd probably be friends, probably have some sort of brotherly friendship. But they're both just little dillholes who can't take someone being better than them.

It's also important to note their rivalri is also toned down in season 3 for the point where Garu just seems to want to protect his friends and family, and Tobe just wants to beat his ass for no reason and make him miserable. There's not really any given reason for either of their behaviors because season 3 doesn't have much lore aside from the whole thing where Dandy is delulu about the Goh-Rong's """secret to martial arts""" and the stupid ass Dong King shit.

TL;DR

Tobe didn't kill Garu's dad, if he did their relationship would be much more volatile.

If anyone would like to prove me wrong, I would love to have such a conversation. I generally don't know ALL of the lore and don't trust the wiki for shit, so yeah.

I would also like to add that the yt channel can't really be trusted with any lore video posted within the past 4 or 5 months as of July 2024 since that channel is legitimately crumbling into dust. Some of the facts they give are a little cute, but for the bigger stuff I'd take it with a grain of salt unless it was stated somewhere before (like THIS video)

I'm so done with this channel istg🌚

Like gurl....gurl...