#having a hyperfixation will make you do that sort of shit

[doctorjackdaw]

if i ever get here in the writing this scene is the absolute same except elias's bump is just adding insult to injury

aka a sketch of elias's absolute worst moment (daisy's and melanie's come close)

[bigfatbreak]

Hello I love your art!!! I was reading through your changeling au and Felix mentions that fae are creatures of mirth. They literally need attention to survive. But what kind of attention? I guess I'm wondering because Adrien has been in the public eye for a while now, but has been personally neglected for even longer. What does that mean for him? Is he starving? Is he in danger of dying? Does he even know it? (I assume not given he doesn't even know he's Fae).

If he is starving / in danger of starving who is the first to realize this?

it depends on the mirth, on the attention, on what it is they seek. Without making things too complicated - I don't like to define everything into neat little boxes after all, there's fun in nuance - Felix is just explaining from his experience, the Fae he was with tended to be "entertained" by certain aspects of their playing, which was the mirth that kept them relevant. Relevancy more than anything is really what keeps their wheels greased.

In Adrien's case though, the reason he's cloying for so many names and to have so many thralls and attendants is because he SHOULD be a more social creature and has been kept woefully alone. He is kinda starving in the way a fae starves - he's relevant, but only in an image his father constructs OF him, which means it isn't REALLY him - and he has no one to play with. No friends, no lovers, and no rivals, makes a very sad fae

[lunarharp]

a random draft where i was ramblingg about witch hat & art to myself for myself :)

rare time i feel like actually going off about the thing i’m having fun with right now in more detail ... but not on twt where strangers might try to discuss back at me lol sorry but that is scary. (not that you even have the room to soliloquy on there)

i love how there's characters for varying types of artists to relate to. people like agott who have been adept at drawing from a young age but feel overwhelmed by feelings of not meeting their expectations. and are driven mostly by feelings of wanting to prove their worth..

people like oru who have always been around the art but now are burnt out from commissions and wondering just what they're drawing for... and ones i relate to the most personally like coco and qifrey, who started drawing at an older age to the skilled people around them. like coco i'm so happy that i'm in the world of drawing(/magic) now and excited every day but also weighed down by fears that i'll never get to what i where i need to be after starting at this late stage and also whether i'm really cut out for this....

and like qifrey i only started drawing after a narrow escape from trauma... i started drawing to make sense of what my life is now, just as he was invited by beldaruit to become a witch because it was the only safe path he could take. (although i've not been through anything quite like what he's been through... ouagh)

and there’s tetia who just wants to draw to make other people feel happy about what she’s made, to have fun, and spread hope and happiness and gratitude. who feels so happy whenever someone thanks her for what she’s created - i understand now how it feels to want to thank them for thanking her and how making art, when you get a meaningful response, can be a truly warm communal type experience. but you do need that response - her overwhelming happiness when the dragon thing was happy and she said it was the first time she’d ever felt fully appreciated for her magic and it made her soooo happy. she had been drawing until then, but it was the last puzzle in place to make her realise the breadth of what magic can be for her.

and riche who is determined to not lose the “her”-ness from her art, doesn’t want to learn new techniques and become more regular and orthodox in style if it means she feels she’s losing something... i get that!!! precious autistic-coded child... the ways we feel about our art differ depending on our own mental landscapes. hahhhh... shirahama said she began this series because she was having a conversation with artist friends about how it feels like drawing just really is magic. i mean..... it is.

i think writing feels like magic too, and i’m glad i can do both now. any creation is total magic. i’ve drawn scenes that were in my head and that’s let other people see them and if i can trust their comments about it, has moved them in some way or at least let them imagine a scene or a situation that they wouldn’t have imagined otherwise. but it’s different from just telling someone about it. when you draw something, or write something it really exists now - outside of you. THAT’S SO WEIRD.

i liked drawing a lot of takarazuka things (before i realised i got kind of burnt out drawing all this transcore stuff that people were not exactly responding to because it’s so niche and weird lmao) but drawing fanart for something that also ONLY exists in art is so special. it’s not acted by real people. like.. they’re just little people that someone drew and now i draw them too. total magic. and she gets up and draws them every day the same as me...

i love that a manga isn’t just art, it’s storytelling too. doing both writing and drawing at the same time - it feels like such a perfect and fascinating combination of skills and facets of creation. i’m better at writing than drawing, so i don’t feel like i can express my original stories well enough in comic form just yet. but i might just get there.

the world is so confusing and overwhelming and terrible every day. only creation is something i can understand. sometimes i can’t understand it - when i feel REALLY bad, it’s definitely like, what’s the point. and i wish i had more things to experience at present than just creation - i want to be outside and just feel and be as well as create. and at some point i’ll definitely stop posting my creations online. but creating has become something that i don’t need to understand the reason for it - so at those times when i wonder what the real point to any of this is.... lately, i usually still create anyway. just as you’d still breathe and sleep even though you’re hurt and confused by the horrors of the world. it’s becoming how i express myself. i find myself drawing pretty much every day because it’s part of how i make sense of shit now and i naturally want to do it. not doing it is painful.

i hope this magic continues. i hope it becomes far more wonderful than i can even imagine from here.

and i won't lose.

[heartmix]

Simon Riley Headcanons

random headcanons that i have of olderbf!Simon.

cod masterlist

Olderbf!Simon who sees you stressing about the way the economy is shit and everything is so expensive.

Olderbf!Simon who rolls his eyes knowing his years of savings and his income will make you and the next generation live comfortably. Why did you even go to college? There was nothing or no one else to spend it on anyways.

Olderbf!Simon who loves that you don't want to work a regular 9-5 or that you don't want to work a regular job in general. You instead have side gigs when you're bored. Your friend needed an extra pair of hands for a work assignment? Sure. Once a month event staff for whatever concert is in town? You love that.

Olderbf!Simon who watches the silly tiktoks and mini vlogs you make while he is away. He doesn't actually have tiktok downloaded but you always send him the videos you make.

Olderbf!Simon who agrees to do one of the tiktok trends with you. The one where it goes "I'm a ____ of course I ______." You didn't need to tell him how it worked. You showed him one video and he understood the assignment.

"I'm a Military wife. Of course, my husband has a side piece."

"I will literally k*ll myself before I look at another woman."

"It was a joke."

"Not a funny one, love."

Olderbf!Simon who is used to your hyperfixations changing every month. His "office" is filled with trinkets and collectibles of your newest obsessions. As a matter of fact, the whole apartment is filled with your stuff. At this point, you'll need to make new storage or get rid of things.

"I think I may have a problem or adhd. Some sort of mental illness."

"I think it's time to get a house."

Olderbf!Simon who lets you pick everything. The only thing he did was give the money. As long as you're happy he didn't care where he lived or what the colors of the bathroom walls were.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Hi Derin! Sorry if this has been asked before, but I'm amazed by the vast array of cultures and gender norms in TTO:U. How did you come up with all of it?

I just thought "hey wouldn't it be funny if there was a little guy" and then made them, and thought "hey what norms would exist in a culture under these conditions" and then made those.

In all seriousness, most of my worldbuilding comes down to tearing down assumptions. Brennans exist because I fucking hate gender and I'm sick of seeing the gender binary or "gender binary Plus Nonbinary Extra People (who still live in a world that assumes a gender binary)" as some immutable natural law that all societies will forever cling to, and I wanted to make a society that was harder for readers to inevitably sort into a binary as they always, always fucking do. (Partial success; I have seen some absolutely rancid takes on the TTOU gender ternary that make me want to break my computer.) The array of different cultural family structures exist because those are different ways that societies can be built on smaller units. The Arboreae and the two space elevators and the Khemin exist because that is a potential response to a critical climate crisis.

On top of that, most of my ideas are stolen. I once read a short story about people who lived under the ocean on an alien planet and spent most of their time just cruising around the ocean in big bubble-like biological submersibles and that was their job, because their submersibles cleaned the water by feeding on things in it; they were employed to be part of the ecosystem. The Khemin, wandering about the ocean as both environmental monitors and trash-gatherers, were inspired by this; from there, I just thought on what sort of family structure and traditions such a group would develop for a stable society. When I was a teeny tiny child I saw a guy on Ripley's Believe It Or Not who was trying to build a self-sustaining floating island to sail around the world on. Absolute disaster of a plan, man knew shit about ecology or farming, but a bit later on I got really into swamps for awhile and started thinking of using plant roots as water filtration systems and, with an eventual biotechnology degree, multiple years hyperfixating on ecology and evolution, and touch of Magic Future Genetic Engineering, that eventually became the Arboreae. The social structure of Hylara is somewhat inspired by CJ Cherryh's azi, particularly the way that Florian and Catlan are raised in Cyteen. The Hylarans are very much not azi (the azi being slaves brainwashed from birth via hypnosis) but the way they are raised fed into building a society batch-raised by robots and each other with no natural family unit. You can just steal concepts from the real world or from scifi and build them into your own thing it's fine.

Anthropologically speaking, the golden feature of any social structure or cultural practice is *stability*. This is the one feature upon which everything is judged. Just or unjust, productive or unproductive, authoritarian or free, structured or unstructured, when developing a society your key thing to worry about is "is this stable? Would a society survive for multiple generations on this norm?" and if your Weird Idea isn't stable, either ditch it or -- far more interesting -- adjust it and your parameters until it is. Different norms will be stable in different environments and built on different histories -- Khemin and Hylaran norms are not interchangeable because of the environments, tech, political climate and reproductive methods the two cultures have. But if it's stable, you can throw in whatever weird shit you want.

[hybridirl]

for me?

18+ only, please!

ellie x f!reader

a/n: hey chat!!!! im star. i finished tlou2 and… i M gonna cry. i need more. i need more BADLY. i need more of this right now………… tlou3 when……….. whenever i hyperfixate it tends to be the Only. thing. i think about. my mind is ONLY that thing and when i’m distracted i feel like i’m trapped and i MUST think about that thing. this is how i am with tlou right now i need more media to consume and i am NOT watching the show.

brief summary: jackson!ellie wants some alone time, but silly you (the roommate) just can’t/won’t give her any! thank god for dina for distracting you while she takes this moment of grace. little does ellie know, no one can distract you for that long.

tw / solo masturbation, mutual masturbation, y/n usage, spanking as punishment, porn no plot, switch?ellie

intentional lowercase. not proofread, probably won’t ever be proofread.

˚｡𖦹☆°‧⋆

it had been a long day, and some relaxation was all ellie had needed. being with you was a hassle, constantly having to correct you, tell you off, or to make you stay put. truth be told, you were a brat. you hardly listened and all on purpose. it’s why she took up so many openings for patrols and missions; being with you was annoying.

luckily for her, you were off with dina somewhere. ellie had confided in her daily, talking about how much of an “annoying bitch” you were. maybe you were, but there was method to your madness. see, you had liked being such a brat. ellie was so quick to anger and you simply loved it. she could tell, of course, that mischievous glint in your eye always giving it away. it only served to piss her off even more, which in turn made you more excited, and her more angry until she stormed off with a string of curses and f-you’s leaving her mouth.

but, for now, she can enjoy some peace and quiet in the confines of your shared home.

“fuck,” she sighed out to herself, plopping onto her full-sized bed. she relished in this newfound silence for a moment, something impossible to do with you around. she spoke, quiet and briefly to the air around her, “thanks, dina.”

she released another breath of air and glanced at the front door. she should be fine. her fingers inched close to the button of her jeans and she thought for a moment. she was pent up, having not been able to do anything with anyone for months and months and even more months. on the other hand, is this really how she wanted to spend her alone time which she rarely got? yes.

ellie didn’t do this too much, just when you were asleep every other night. okay, maybe she did it a lot, but, can you blame her? she’s a horny girl, and you can’t really rely on other people to do this sort of thing with; they’re all busy and exhausted! it’s the apocalypse for god’s sake.

ellie’s fingers finally concluded that yes, she wants it. they fumbled with the button - just for a moment - until it eventually popped free. with her right hand, the zipper came down; her thumbs hooked around both the hem of the jeans and her underwear and she tugged them down, revealing her trimmed curls on her pubic mound. her eyes flickered around once more, just out of habit, before her middle finger met with the hood of her clit. she teased it with gentle circles, waking it up for arousal.

“shit,” she whispered out loud, feeling her her pussy begin to drool. her eyes fluttered when her fingers picked up pace, rubbing tightly and yet gently on her sensitive bud. her brows raised and she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth while she hid a moan. her free hand slithered up her shirt, grabbing at her hardened nipple and rolling it between her index finger and thumb. “oh, fuck…”

it was all going fine and dandy, just perfect for her. one hand fingering at her clit, the other massaging her breasts, and the thought of you clouding her mind. hold on - catching herself, her eyes shot open. she just caught herself masturbating to you. you and your bratty attitude, that same bratty attitude that deserved so much punishment which you’ve been lacking. she put her lips in a thin line, shutting her eyes, and let her mind drift once more back to you. she imagined your vulva, exposed and dripping for her, tormented with a lack of touch. she imagined her hands meeting your ass in a violent confrontation, spanking you and bruising your poor skin as punishment for your stupidity, your purposeful brattiness and ignorance. her fingers became faster.

“such a stupid girl,” she mumbled in a moan, two of her fingers meeting her g-spot, “…f-fuck… bet you like- like gettin’ spanked… oh, y/n…” she moaned out, not caring as your name slipped from her pink lips. “…y/n, please… i need you…” she fell further and further into her arousal, your name escaping her lips in a hurried frenzy; a string of pleads and curses left her throat willingly.

and yes, here it came, the peak of her pleasure. she quickly brought her other hand, which was massaging her breasts, down to her clit, furiously rubbing it whilst the other pumped into of her.

“y/n, please,” she begged this imaginary version of you. “please, let me cum, y/n, oh god, please, please…” she imagined your moans, all too real as they begged alongside her.

“ellie,” you would moan so silkily and beautifully as you touched yourself the same way she was. “ellie, i’m so close…” you’d make such intoxicating noises as you fucked yourself with your fingers. she was practically drunk on just her imagination.

“oh, god, i’m cumming, y/n, i’m cumming,” she dragged out, her body shaking as her clit throbbed and pussy clenched around her fingers.

“ellie,” you said hesitantly and watched her eyes shoot open. a gasp left her throat and her legs shut. she yelped your name and you shut the door behind you. “i- uh, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to- i- uh- i didn’t know you felt that way… about… uh… me. ellie…” you stuttered, slowly, so slowly making your way closer to the frozen girl. “…ellie, i’m…” you inched a little closer, your hand finding one of her knees.

this isn’t happening, ellie thought. you weren’t spreading her legs right now, your fingers weren’t trailing down her inner thighs, and they definitely weren’t grazing her wet folds.

“ellie,” you whispered, “ellie, let me touch you.” she found herself nodding, her hips rolling into your touch. “you’re so pretty.” your fingers slipped easily into her cunt, curling and massaging her g-spot. “i’ve always thought about you,” you admitted in a whisper, deep into her ear. the heel of your palm scraped against her clit whilst your fingers thrusted in and out her slick pussy.

“f—uck,” she groaned, her own hands gliding down your body, feeling for you. her hand came down on your ass hard, making you jolt.

“ellie!” you yelped as she pushed you away. you landed on her stomach, whimpering as you felt your jeans get pulled off your body, exposing your flesh to ellie’s needy gaze.

“you’re such a-“ she gave you a harsh spank, “such a goddamn brat. always botherin’ me… fuck, look at this pretty ass,” she moaned and her hand collided once again with the supple flesh of your bottom. she kissed the nape of your neck and your sounds filled her ears, soft whimpers and purrs intoxicating her. her fingers met with your wetness, so easily finding their way inside you. “god, you’re so wet.” her fingers were only there for a moment before flipping you onto your stomach.

both your hands explored each other, needing and wanting. her fingers once again found your heat, as did yours on hers. both of your rhythms matched each other, hurried and furious.

“ellie, give it to me,” you whimpered, eyes doe-like and pleading. she couldn’t resist your perfect gaze, her fingers curling and pumping into you. “yes, god, yes,” with your voice filling her ears and your fingers continuing to thrust her, she came again. hard. she leaned forward, falling against your body even as her fingers idly worked inside you. her walls clenched around your fingers and her lips kissed at your neck.

“y/n,” she purred, the squelching noises of your cunt echoing throughout the room as you grew wetter and wetter. “y’got a tight lil pussy,” she said with her jaw slightly slack, “all wet. just for me? huh? for me?”

“yes,” you whined, “yesyesyesyes, ellie! ellie!” she giggled lazily as she watched you cum so desperately on her fingers. your arms wrapped around her body, pulling her toward you.

“that’s it, th—ere ya go,” ellie encouraged, slowing her fingers’ movements as your orgasm subsided. you panted hard, holding ellie close.

“oh, ellie…” your voice carried. her hands grazed up and down your sides as you relished in the afterglow. so pretty and perfect.

“one more time. for me?”

[oinonsana]

realities, maximalism,and the need for big book™️

some gubat banwa design thoughts vomit: since the beginning of its development i've kind of been enraptured with trying to really go for "fiction-first" storytelling because PbtA games really are peak roleplaying for me, but as i wrote and realized that a lot of "fiction first" doesn't work without a proper sort of fictional foundation that everyone agrees on. this is good: this is why there are grounding principles, genre pillars, and other such things in many PbtA games--to guide that.

broken worlds is one of my favs bc of sheer vibes

Gubat Banwa didn't have much in that sense: sure, I use wuxia and xianxia as kind of guideposts, but they're not foundational, they're not pillars of the kind of fiction Gubat Banwa wants to raise up. there wasn't a lot in the sense of genre emulation or in the sense of grounding principles because so much of Gubat Banwa is built on stuff most TTRPG players haven't heard about. hell, it's stuff squirreled away in still being researched academic and anthropological circles, and thanks to the violence of colonialism, even fellow filipinos and seasians don't know about them

this is what brought me back to my ancient hyperfixations, the worlds of Exalted, Glorantha, Artesia, Fading Suns... all of them have these huge tomes of books that existed to put down this vast sprawling fantasy world, right? on top of that are the D&D campaign settings, the Dark Suns and the Eberrons. they were preoccupied in putting down setting, giving ways for people to interact with the world, and making the world alive as much as possible.

one of my main problems with gubat banwa was trying to convey this world that i've seen, glimpsed, dreamed of. this martial fantasy world of rajas and lakans, sailendras and tuns, satariyas and senapatis and panglimas and laksamanas and pandai... its a world that didn't really exist yet, and most references are steeped in either nationalism or lack of resources (slowly changing, now)

i didn't want to fall back into the whole gazeteer tourist kind of shit when it came to writing GB, but it necessitated that the primary guidelines of Gubat Banwa were set down. my approach to it was trying to instill every aspect of the text, from the systems to the fluff text to the way i wrote to the way things were phrased, with the essence of this world i'm trying to put forward. while i wrote GB mainly for me and fellow SEAsian people, economically my main market were those in the first world countries that could afford to buy the book. grokking the book was always going to be severely difficult for someone that didn't have similar cultures, or are uninterested in the complexities of human culture. thus why GB had to be a big book.

in contemporary indie ttrpg spaces (where I mostly float in, though i must admit i pay more attention to SEAsia spaces than the usual US spaces) the common opinion is that big books like Exalted 3e are old hat, or are somewhat inferior to games that can cram their text into short books. i used to be part of that camp--in capitalism, i never have enough time, after all. however, the books that do go big, that have no choice to go big, like Lancer RPG, Runequest, Mage, Exalted are usually the ones that have something really big it needs to tell you, and they might be able to perform the same amount of text-efficient bursting at the seams flavor writing but its still not enough.

thats what happened to GB, which I wanted to be, essentially, a PbtA+4e kind of experience, mechanically speaking. i very soon abandoned those titles when i delved deeper into research, incorporated actual 15th century divination tools in the mechanics, injected everything with Martial Arts flavor as we found our niche

all of this preamble to say that no matter how light i wanted to go with the game, i couldnt go too light or else people won't get it, or i might end up writing 1000 page long tome books explaining every detail of the setting so people get it right. this is why i went heavy on the vibes: its a ttrpg after all. its never gonna be finished.

i couldnt go too light because Gubat Banwa inherently exists on a different reality. think: to many 3 meals a day is the norm and the reality. you have to eat 3 meals a day to function properly. but this might just be a cultural norm of the majority culture, eventually co opted by capitalism to make it so that it can keep selling you things that are "breakfast food" or "dinner food" and whatnot. so its reality to some, while its not reality to others. of course, a lot of this reality-talk pertains mostly to social--there is often a singular shared physical reality we can usually experience*

Gubat Banwa has a different fabric of reality. it inherently has a different flow of things. water doesn't go down because of gravity, but because of the gods that make it move, for example. bad things happen to you because you weren't pious or you didn't do your rituals enough and now your whole community has to suffer. atoms aren't a thing in gb, thermodynamics isn't a real thing. the Laws of Gubat Banwa aren't these physical empirical things but these karmic consequent things

much of the fiction-first movement has a sort of "follow your common sense" mood to it. common sense (something also debatable among philosophers but i dont want to get into that) is mostly however tied to our physical and social realities. but GB is a fantasy world that inherently doesn't center those realities, it centers realities found in myth epics and folk tales and the margins of colonized "civilization", where lightnings can be summoned by oils and you will always get lost in the woods because you don't belong there.

so Gubat Banwa does almost triple duty: it must establish the world, it must establish the intended fiction that arises from that world, and then it must grant ways to enforce that fiction to retain immersion--these three are important to GB's game design because I believe that that game--if it is to not be a settler tourist bonanza--must force the player to contend with it and play with it within its own terms and its own rules. for SEAsians, there's not a lot of friction: we lived these terms and rules forever. don't whistle at night on a thursday, don't eat meat on Good Friday, clap your hands thrice after lighting an incense stick, don't make loud noise in the forests. we're born into that [social] reality

this is why fantasy is so important to me, it allows us to imagine a different reality. the reality (most of us) know right now (i say most of us because the reality in the provinces, the mountains, they're kinda different) is inherently informed by capitalist structures. many people that are angry at capitalist structures cannot fathom a world outside capitalist structures, there are even some leftists and communists that approach leftism and revolution through capitalism, which is inherently destructive (its what leads to reactionaries and liberalism after all). fantasy requires that you imagine something outside of right now. in essence read Ursula K Le Guin

i tweeted out recently that you could pretty easily play 15-16th century Luzon or Visayas with an OSR mechanic setting and William Henry Scott's BARANGAY: SIXTEENTH CENTURY PHILIPPINE CULTURE AND SOCIETY, and I think that's purely because barebones OSR mechanics stuff fits well with the raiding and adventuring that many did in 15-16th century Luzon/Visayas, but a lot of the mechanics wont be comign from OSR, but from Barangay, where you learn about the complicated marriage customs, the debt mechanics, the social classes and stratum...

so thats why GB needs to be a (relatively) big book, and why I can contend that some books need to be big as well--even if their mechanics are relatively easy and dont need more than that, the book, the game, might be trying to relay something even more, might be trying to convey something even more than that. artesia, for example, has its advancements inherently tied to its Tarot Cards, enforcing that the Arcana guides your destiny. runquest has its runes magic, mythras (which is kinda generic) has pretty specific kinds of magic systems that immediately inform the setting. this is why everything is informed by something (this is a common Buddhist principle, dependent arising). even the most generic D&D OSR game will have the trappings of the culture and norms of the one that wrote and worked on it. its written from their reality which might not necessarily be the one others experience. that's what lived experience is, after all

*live in the provinces for a while and you'll doubt this too!

[carni-val]

When you know, you know [Carmen Berzatto]

pairing: Carmen Berzatto x Reader

summary: Carmy has a problem saying I love you, but he's got no problem showing it.

warnings: Slight angst if you squint really hard, some fluff

author’s notes: Yeah, it's been a year since I've written something but my current hyperfixation on The Bear has really inspired me to write. Carmy's struggle with saying I love you is so real, but I sincerely feel he's an acts of service man. I hope you all enjoy it and thank you so much for reading!

She stood at the opening of the door, looking down on him. She worked a full shift and she was still as beautiful as when she woke up this morning. He, on the other hand, looked dishevelled; he was sure of it. His hair was all over the place from running his hands through the mass of curls with a thin sheen of sweat layered over his skin and he was still a little self-conscious about the smell of the restaurant that had clung to him upon his arrival, as Sugar mentioned earlier.

She didn’t seem to mind though as she knelt down on the floor beside him. Overdue invoices and notes scribbled down in his brother’s chicken scratch surrounded him on the office floor.

She was closer now, and yes, still beautiful.

“Hi,” she smiled sweetly.

“Hey,” he couldn’t help but huff out a sigh.

Prepping the menu and serving it to all the customers was more than enough work for the day, especially with the disastrous system Richie insisted on upholding. The bed he’d been dreaming about collapsing into, beside her, seemed to get more and more distant with more of the shit he uncovered in the office. Who knew an office so small could have so much shit hiding in it?

“Still sorting, huh?” her eyes held sympathy for him, noticing how tired he looked.

“Still sorting,” he confirmed, his eyes softening when they met hers. “I think it’s gonna be another long night for me tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Can I help?” she asked, already scanning the documents.

“No, I’m sure you’ve had a long day. Why don’t you go home and go to bed?” he reached out and stroked her cheek with his hand, cupping her jaw with the palm of it.

She leaned into his touch, “You’ve had a long day too, and I’ve got the day off tomorrow. Let me help.” She settled down on the floor next to him. “What can I do?”

Carmy’s gaze lingered on her. If he thought about it all too long, he’d break down, he was sure of it, so he simply asked her to organize the overdue invoices — ones for the restaurant, ones for the inventory and so on.

“Yes chef,” she replied with a cheeky grin.

Carmy felt the laugh escape him before shaking his head. He watched her for a moment.

He really—

He couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence. Maybe it was something to do with Donna, or the fact that he never really had a girlfriend before her, or because he still couldn’t figure out what the hell she was still doing with him.

His breath caught as he felt a twinge in his chest. He brought a hand up to soothe it and she looked over at him.

“Bear?” her warm hand reached up and pressed against his. “You okay?”

The concern in her eyes stole his breath but it soothed the ache in his chest. He felt a hint of embarrassment, desperately not wanting to have a panic attack in front of her. He didn’t want to scare her.

So he just nodded and let a smile stretch across his face, albeit tight-lipped.

She wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t push him. She just took his hand in hers and kissed his tattooed knuckles.

His smile cracked, revealing his teeth, and it was more genuine. She seemed convinced, releasing his hand and turning back to the work.

“You hungry? Can I make you something to eat?” he asked instead.

“I’m okay, I had a late lunch.”

“Are you sure? It’ll take me a minute.”

“I’m sure,” she smiled up at him. “I just wanna get this done so you can get to bed.”

Her hand reached up and held his cheek this time. She ran her thumb underneath the bag of his eye. After kissing the palm of her hand, they got to work.

After almost three hours of sorting, Carmy excused himself for a smoke break.

“Can I make you something?” he offered once again, standing in the doorway.

She shook her head, deciding that he’d done enough cooking for the day. Although she was starving at this point, she just wanted to get Carmy home and to bed so he could rest.

Although he lingered at the door for a moment, to probably try and convince her, he decided against it, leaving the office with his cigarettes in hand.

She knew he loved to cook for her, always watching her as she took the first bite of anything he cooked for her, but seeing the toll the restaurant had taken on him after only just a week was beginning to worry her. That’s why whenever her stomach grumbled, she let out a cough or ruffled some papers around to try and mask the sound. She knew Carmy would put her before himself and she couldn’t allow that.

She decided she’d eat once he went to bed, or maybe when he got into the shower.

Yeah. The shower seemed like a good idea.

A great one actually.

Spending three hours sorting through paperwork seemed like enough to call it a night — seven hours since she had lunch. Her stomach grumbled again and she could swear she smelt hints of beef, sautéed onions and peppers in the air.

She really needed to get home.

At the thought, the door to the office opened and behind her stood Carmy with two plates, a sandwich on each of them.

“Carmy-“

She began to protest but he stopped her. He knelt down, not having to dodge copious amounts of papers now that everything was sorted into neat, organized piles.

“I could hear your stomach from out there,” he nodded his head towards the kitchen.

A sheepish expression overtook her face as she looked down to the steaming contents within the sandwich.

“This looks and smells amazing, Bear.”

“Tastes even better,” he held out a plate to her.

Eagerly, she took the plate in one hand and picked up the sandwich with the other and took a bite. Flavours melded together to cause a more than satisfactory feeling to overcome her. Her ravenous stomach finally settled while begging for more at the same time.

She hummed as she chewed, nodding her head in complete ecstasy. Carmy laughed, ducking his head and shaking it slightly at her theatrics. She laughed along with him.

His bashful expression made her heart swell. He had never been more attractive to her. Seeing him do the thing he was so talented at was a sight she could never grow tired of. But the drive and determination that oozed out of him as he worked to whip this restaurant into shape opened up a whole new side to Carmy that she’d never seen before. 

She loved him.

Not that she would say it again, because the one time she did, she watched how catatonic Carmy became. After his sincerest apologies, she assured him it was okay.

She decided to let it hang in the air and let him say it when he felt okay to do so.

In the meantime, she’d revel in the ways he showed her.

[reverieblondie]

Neighbors

Chapter 3: Web-Heads

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: None....But it's starting to heat up...

Summary: After a terrible night you find that your restless, turns out your not the only one who isn't asleep at this hour. Maybe things will start looking up for you...

A/N: Finally got this done! I have so many fics in the works currently, so I am slowly trying to get them all out but I write slow and can only write when I am hyperfixating on that specific story. it all comes in waves for me unfortunately. Enjoy the chapter!

Word Count: 4,012

Your eyes fly open, meeting the darkness of your room. Nothing is working…

Four hours of tossing and turning, trying to will yourself to sleep but nothing is working. With a sigh and slowly rising from your bed, you conclude that sleep is just not going to happen for you tonight. This should all be expected though, how can you get rest when you feel your life is in knots? Unfortunately for you untying them is going to take longer than one night so sleepless nights seem to be in your future. -damn stress causing you to have insomnia…

Sitting up in your bed your mind starts going back to everything that has happened so far, what could have happened if Spider-man didn’t show up. As you think you feel the pricking ache in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat. With a deep breath you will the feeling down, you have cried enough you don’t want to keep getting worked up. Scanning the room you're looking for a distraction then you find it; your hamper filled with clothes catches your eye. That will have to do. 

Pulling on your hoodie,  pocketing your phone and keys, favorite fuzzy slippers on your ready; you drag your hamper down to the complex's laundry room, well to the elevator then the laundry room. Typically you wouldn't be doing your laundry at this hour but you're hoping for no company, that must be why you didn’t even bother to brush your restless bedhead. You have already had a rough night, it can't get any rougher right? 

Finally making it down to the washroom you walk through the doorway and see none other than your neighbour the spider enthusiast. Just can’t catch a break tonight. 

Walking in you try your best not to pay him any mind but you can’t help but notice how he seems very surprised to see you. Well granted it is an untimely time for laundry but he’s down here as well so you should be giving him a look as well. As you go to give him a look you stop, you just don’t even have the energy for that right now. With a sigh, you keep your head down and just do your laundry in silence. 

Placing your clothes in the washer you sort them carefully as you go in two different machines, it's just the two of you so you can be a bit rude to get your stuff done. At this point you couldn't care either way. 

“Rough night?” His voice carries to you and all you can do is just hum, not denying but not exactly agreeing either. 

“Yeah, you look…” he thinks for a moment and you assume he is looking for some kind of insult, that would just be the cherry on top of your night, wouldn’t it? What will he poke at? Your hair? Your clothes? Your puffy face? Your fuzzy slippers? Feeling the anger build at your assumed thoughts you turn to him quickly making him look at you a bit surprised. 

“I what? Huh? Are you going to say how I look like shit? How do I look pathetic?” the pain in your chest starts to rise and you just throw your clothes in both washers no longer having the will to sit and sort. 

With a slam, you start the washers and go to leave in a huff but as you make your way to the exit in an angered rush one of your slippers comes off forcing you to have to turn back. Spinning around quickly you see Peter is standing with your slipper in hand, a concerned look on his face, already so close to you. If you were not so completely irritated you would question how he got to you so quickly. 

“I was going to say you look sad…” it's the gentlest you have heard him speak, makes you feel like an ass from your off-the-handle reaction. He holds out your slipper to you, “Want to talk about it Cinderella?” 

With a sigh you grab the slipper putting it back on your foot, “Not particularly…” 

“You're not from New York are you?” he asks somewhat suddenly

“What was your first clue?” 

“The screaming at the spider.” you look at him and can’t help the small laugh that leaves your throat, he notes this so he keeps going, “Yeah, definitely the dead giveaway. Plus there is you not knowing about this month's rainy week and believing the weatherman, another not New Yorker mistake.” 

You sigh, “I can’t even trust the weatherman…” 

“Not from channel 12 no, try channel 34, he’s the one I watch.” 

“Oh, and here I thought it was your special New York weather sense.” 

“Well that helps too,”  he says nonchalantly, causing you to laugh again. 

You look at him and see that he's watching you with a smile. As he waits for his laundry, “Why are you being nice to me? I thought I was dramatic?” 

“Eh, your dramatics are only funny when you're peeved, not sad.” 

“Oh, well I am so glad I could entertain you then.” 

“Least you can do after waking me from my sleep because of a spider.” You laugh and the room becomes silenced between you two the only sound being the whorling of the washers and the slight music coming from Peter's earbuds filling the room for a long moment. “So was work bad? Did something-” 

You are quick to cut him off.  “Ah- still don’t want to talk about it.” 

He holds his hands up in mock surrender humming in agreement. A part of you doesn't know why you don’t tell him. Maybe it is because talking to him is finally making you forget about it, making you laugh and relax a bit. For a second the thought of being in Spider-man's arms hearing his heartbeat comes back to you, how relaxed you felt in his arms, how safe you felt. 

“So what do you do? I mean we are around the same age, are you like…let me guess a waiter or something? Or a barista at some hip coffee shop?” changing the subject from you back to him. 

He furrows his brows at you in a look of playful disgust “Did you say hip?”  

Throwing your arms up you let out a confused huff “What? New Yorkers don’t say hip?” 

“No” 

“Whatever, so what do you do, judgy pants?” 

“It’s Mr. Judgy pants to you, I go to school at Empire State University and I do freelance photography for the Daily Bugle.” 

As you two talk the washers go off and you two start gathering your things placing them in the dryer as you continue the conversion. Getting to talk to Peter like this is nice and it’s nice that you two are getting to know each other. 

“What kind of photos do you take?” you as casually as you prep the dryer settings. 

“People, landscapes, but the Bugle pays me for my Spider-man pictures.” 

The mention of Spider-man makes you pause, then you look back to Peter to see that he’s already looking at you but turns his head stuffing the dryer as you notice him. 

“Isn’t he hard to get pictures of?” you ask, trying to seem casual about your prying. 

“That is the rumor, but I have my ways” 

“Oh well we don’t want you giving up your secret ways,”  Peter smirks and starts the drier, you come to his side and whisper to him “You can tell me, you know him or something don’t you? One of your buddies or something?” 

He looks at you and laughs “More like we have a coworker kind of relationship, but it's all very confidencial I can't say anymore or I will be webbed to a bridge by my feet.” 

“I don’t see the problem?” 

“Ha. ha. You're very funny” he says, rolling his eyes at you. Before his eyes go towards you while you two sit back down to wait “So, why are you asking about Spider-man?” 

Shit, do you tell him you met him? Uhhg but then he's just going to ask more questions as you don’t want to deal with all that prying, quick defect! “He’s a superhero, who wouldn't ask some questions?” -nailed it

Peter just hums with a small nod as a response. For about 40 minutes you loop through idle small talk and silence. You had the least amount of clothes to dry compared to him. Now you two are standing at the folding tables as he helps fold your laundry, you insisted that he didn't have to help you but he insisted otherwise. Peter might not be all that bad a guy, but maybe you can be friendly acquaintances and one day possibly friends. 

“Overall, how has your move for your scholarship been treating you?” Peter suddenly asks as he folds one of your towels. He must be used to having to do chores as a kid and he folds rather nicely compared to some other college students you've known.  

“Fine…” you say a bit too high pitched to be convincing, Turning to Peter you see that he has a concerned look on his face, almost one of pity…you avert your eyes feeling your chest get tangled up again. Why does he have to look at you like you like that…don’t people know that doesn't help…

“I grew up in Queens. I've been around this place all my life, I can only imagine the adjustment you're going through. If you need help or-” Peters's voice dies off as he looks at you again seeing that you're getting upset. With a sigh, he lazily reaches into the basket to grab something to fold as you watch through the corner of your eyes you see that he grabs your lacy pink underwear. Biting back a laugh you watch as Peter feels the material confused before turning bright red and shoving them back into the basket for something else. As he’s embarrassly apologizing, you break out in hysterical laughter. 

You watch as Peter's face scrunches at you, the blush of his embarrassment still on his face. He is not as amused as you are, “Oh, don’t be so embarrassed Peter it's just panties, they won’t bite you.” 

Peter rolls his eyes and mocks laughter as he makes his way to the dryer that just got down with his clothes. You finish your folding as you hear Peter suddenly cuss, looking over you see him holding what you assume used to be a white shirt that is now splotched with red and blue. 

“Oh no, do you want help fixing it? I think I have some bleach.” approaching him you see him get tense before he pulls out all his clothes in a hurry and slips past you quickly with his basket filled. 

“It’s fine I will just get a new one,” Peter starts to move to the exit. 

“Wait? You helped me fold my clothes, do you want help?”

“No!” he quickly interjects “I uh, I like to fold my clothes…it's very…relaxing to me.” 

“Uh-” 

“See you around!” with that he rushes off and all you can do is give him a very confused look at where he once was. -weird.   

Despite Peter leaving in a rather rushed and odd matter everything before that was…. nice. After your laundry and chat session, you were finally eased enough to fall asleep for a while and rested just enough to help get you through your workday. As you're getting ready for your shift you turn on the TV, you see the weatherman from channel 12 but you quickly flip it to channel 34; per Peter's advice. 

Deciding to dress warmer for today's shift you go with your favorite pants and a black short sleeve. Yesterday's attack is still inching in the back of your mind. The thought of anyone seeing your bare skin right now makes you feel ill. Better tips be damned. Once your makeup is done, a bit darker than you would usually go, you gather your hair to wear it pinned up then you can’t seem to find your tie. 

Walking out of the bathroom you scan everywhere for it till you spot it on your nightstand, swiftly grabbing it you put up your hair but you pause for a moment looking at the note…Spider-man…

Grabbing the note you reread the simple message and observe the doodle. He saved your butt, didn't he? Looking out your window you look at the cascading of colors from the setting sun. Would you ever see him again? Get to properly thank him? The city is massive and you hear the bustling of people and machinery. A whole city he has to take care of…that's got to take its toll on a person…

As you're getting swept up in your thoughts your alarm tells you it's time to go. Gathering your coat and purse you double-check your things, wallet, keys, IDs, and planner. Pursing your lips you take a mental note: you still need to buy pepper spray and an umbrella, the weatherman said there will be rain tonight so it looks like you're out of luck for today. Maybe you could order your things and have them delivered here? As you exit your door you look towards your window with the blinds that you keep open. 

Huh, you pause before stepping towards the window where your purse was returned. Looking at the window you still see the webbing residue from last night, confirming that it all happened. As your eyes scan the webbing and then go to the city outside only one thought plagues your mind, how did Spider-man know what window was yours?  

Leaning on the bar top you let out a sigh as you watch the front door of the bar, the sound of pouring rain and soft thunder is paired with the voices of the few patrons who needed to brave the weather for their drink fix. Peter was right about the weatherman from 34, the guy knows his stuff. Peter… thinking of him you think of how he mentioned he was a photographer for the Daily Bugle… and took pics for the Spider-themed hero…

Turning your head you see the few customers seemingly content and with full glasses, so with that and it being so dead tonight you decide it would be okay to pull out your phone for some internet snooping. Usually, this is something you would never do while behind the contour but Gregory had given you the okay, he felt bad that you had to come in during this storm. The bar tonight was only being managed by three people tonight because of the rain, Gregory and his wife Melissa and you. Melissa was a delight at the bar, plus you couldn't help but smile as she severed drinks while rubbing her growing belly. 

Getting comfortable you type Daily Bugle - Spider-man in your search engine and wait for the results. Turns out that the Bugle was not the biggest Spider fan, calling him a menace and blaming him for most things. Though the articles left a sour taste in your mouth the pictures with the articles were amazing. You have seen pictures before, but those were either blurry or from a super long distance. Peter had some talent, you would have to bring that up next time you saw him in the laundry room. 

You continue looking at the pictures, Spider-man was something else. His athletic build swinging in the sky, something you did just last night; you can feel your cheeks warm at the memory, if only it wasn't raining you could have looked as you swung with him. A stray thought of the possibility of ever doing it again crossed your mind, though you doubt you would ever see him again or if you did he probably wouldn't recall you. Your eyes focus on every curve of him, the tight spandex makes your mind race with what could be underneath. And those hands…so large…

“Oh, looks like we got ourselves a web-head.” Gregory says with a chuckle as he catches a glimpse of your phone. 

“A web-head?” you had never even heard of that before what was he talking about? 

Gregory points to your phone with a deep chuckle, “Spiders fangirls, we call them web-heads.” 

Fangirl?! Your face goes red and you press your phone to your chest looking terrified which only makes him laugh, Melissa comes to swat his arm. “Don’t tease her Greg.” she turns to you with a smile “Honestly I can’t blame you, he’s just the cutest thing. Though I think he's a bit too young for me.” 

You want to deny this narrative of you having a thing for Spider-Man but her words catch you by surprise. “Wait, what do you mean? Have you met him?” 

Melissa lights up “I did, he saved my life once. It was a while back but a villain was rampaging the streets and as a car was getting flung towards me he scooped me up and swung me to safety. I tell you, my heart was racing not just from the adrenaline of the situation.” she nudges you and you both share a quick laugh while her husband huffs. 

“Why do you think he's young though?” 

“Well after he saved me he called me ma’am and I could just tell from his inflections he was still young, still figuring himself out.” -interesting, maybe you two are around the same age. 

“Then he left.” Gregory cuts in catching your attention. His face is down as he refills a glass from the tap. Turning back to Melissa she's looking at her husband with a tight-lipped gaze before turning back to you. 

“What do you mean he left?” you question

Melissa leans in almost like what she is saying is a secret “Rumor is that after a huge fight with some villains, something in him broke, like he just couldn’t handle all the pressure anymore. He was gone for months almost a full year before he returned to face the rhino. Now he’s just around again like he never left.” she shrugs “Odd right?” 

“Yeah…odd…”   

With work now over you are standing in your spot under the canopy as the rain is still coming down, though not as heavy as earlier. As the rain falls you think about the hero and his disappearing act. What would make a hero leave? Did he get hurt? Was it all too much? Shoving your hands in your pockets you sigh to yourself, maybe it's best not to dwell on it? Has nothing to do with you, though that gnawing curiosity is still in you, wanting to know more…

Not wanting a repeat of yesterday you buddle your jacket tighter to you, deciding it's best to just brave the rain and take a hot shower when you get home. Taking your first step from the safety of the canopy your skin is immediately chilling at the feeling of the rain hitting your head. Just as you go to start to run a familiar whooshing sound catches your attention making you turn back to the bar. Then right in front of you is a spider symbol. 

Looking up from his chest you see an incredibly close spider-man looking down towards you. The second thing you notice is that you no longer feel rain falling on your head looking up and seeing a red umbrella shielding you both. 

Feeling completely confused you try to form any words but all you can stammer out is a “wha-huh-what?” 

He kinda laughs. It starts naturally but you notice he deepened it a little, “Sorry to spook you, but I figured you could use this.” 

“You came here to bring me an umbrella?” you say still filled with confusion. 

“Actually I was in the area patrolling for yesterday's robber.” -oh right, “But, then I remembered you and you saying that you don’t have an umbrella, so here” 

Standing so close to him you can admire his physic better, pictures definitely didn’t fully do it justice. Maybe these web-heads are onto something….

“Thank you, but I’m a bit surprised you remembered that. I mean I know it was yesterday but don't you talk and save a bunch of people often?” 

“Yeah, to be honest I usually have a hard time remembering things or people, but you stuck out to me,” he says nonchalantly. This sudden confession makes your eyes widen as you look at him. Wait? Was that a good thing or a bad thing? 

He looks at you and seems to take in your surprised expression interpreting what you might be thinking. “I mean, it's not often I steal people's purses”

That snaps your mind back to your earlier question you had asked yourself before leaving home, “That reminds me, how did you know that was my window when you retired my purse?” 

Spider-man's eye lenses go wide for a second before he places his hand on the back of his neck, seemingly shy about it, maybe not the best time to ask him. “That I uh, I got lucky that you left your blinds open so I saw you.” 

For some reason, the thought of the masked hero being able to see you through the window makes your cheeks warm. You should close your blinds more often…or keep them open more. 

“Well, get home safe and try your best to stay dry, okay?”

“I’ll try my best.” 

You give him a confident smile and gently take the umbrella from his hand, as you do you brush your fingers with the warmth you felt yesterday.. Whoever this guy is, he is very thoughtful. But what do you expect from a hero? As you begin to walk off to hurry to your apartment you hear him call for you. Turning you see him in the rain arm reaching towards you but he quickly adjusts himself to a casual stance.  

“Do you work late every night?” 

“Most nights” you confirm

With a hum, he thinks for a moment before he nods and claps his wet hands together, “Well, I will have to make this a regular patrol area. Have a good night” 

Just like last night before you can say anything more to him he's swinging off leaving you to watch his fading figure, though you think tonight he knows you're watching by how he does a backflip in the air. Pretty impressive…

As you get into your apartment your feeling, better. Today was drastically different from yesterday's events, You still adjusting but there is a weight that seems to be lifting from your shoulders and you can't decide if it's from having a calm work day, your relationship with your obnoxious neighbor is seeming to get better, or that fact that you might be developing some kind of friendship with the infamous Spider-Man. Though you don't want to get your hopes up too much…

As you start to set your stuff down and grab a drink from your small kitchen you hear a thwap at your window. Heading over curiously you see a note stuck to your window, grabbing the note from the window you read it: 

"Glad you got home safe, you might want to close your blinds before bed.” Then there is a doodle of a spider under an umbrella, very cute. 

Looking out of the window you look around to see if you see him around one of the buildings but no luck. Grabbing your blinds you go to shut them before something makes you pause, biting your lower lip you move from the window and quickly grab a loose sheet of some pale blue stationery you bought before your move, you write a note, rereading it a few times before going to your window and placing it on the sticky web. 

A giddy feeling spreads through you as you walk away from your window to go to your room. Leaving both windows curtains open…

Tags:

@huesdreamhouse @keiva1000 @spdrwdw @betizda @lunablackcosplay @juliluvhz @avareadsthings @xxrougefangxx @briviny @llpovi @beautyb1ade

[spaceumbredoggos]

There has been a criminal absence of recent Yandere Bill Cipher x Reader headcanons, so I made some. Also, the tumblr folks eat this shit up. It’s hilarious. No one cares about my Kenz fic that I pour my heart and soul into, but when it comes to Yandere Bill, you thirst for the man. I am currently only taking headcanon requests (will elaborate later) because art takes forever to make.

All these HC’s also apply to Bill’s Relationship with my self insert OC. Just if they didn’t exist, like tumblr thinks they don’t. Please give So Much for Stardust the love it deserves. I’ll appreciate it.

Bill is very touchy feely to a criminal degree. (That’s as far as I’m gonna go because I don’t wanna have to put a content warning, and I don’t wanna come across as triggering. In my mind, it’s in line with Bill’s character to be that free candy van uncle.)

Does Bill possess Y/N? Does grass grow? Does a bear shit in the woods? That’s one of his favorite things to do. And he’s really good at covering his tracks. You bet your ass Y/N will wake up fucking wounded and sore from frequent possessions.

If Y/N dies, which would be pretty rare given Bill’s obsession, they’re gonna end up as a sinner in hell with their soul owned by Bill. Bill is higher than god himself on the hierarchy of my headcanoned Hellaverse if he did exist (which would be fucking hilarious, but given how much I hate Vivzie for various reasons, I doubt Hirsch would accept a collab since Vivzie has a heinous track record. My recent hyperfixation of the Hellaverse is clearly showing.) Bill would act almost like an overlord this way, and it’ll be sorta like a Val and Angel Dust relationship that’s written better. (I’m skirting around the most taboo parts of this to avoid triggering people including myself.)

Odds are, Y/N wouldn’t die. Bill has plans for them after all. So good luck avoiding his agenda of building a portal. Also, he’ll probably leave Alex Hirsch alone a lot, which may or may not lead to a drought in his Gravity Falls content. Bill’s likely to start a cult at this point to hunt Y/N down, specifically out of all those down bad fankids who’d let him do unspeakable things to them.

Bill will resort to all sorts of psychological torture. Maybe even projecting himself into your video games and other media that you delve into, with various alternate versions of himself (I’m glaring at you, Volo from Pokemon Legends Arceus.)

With every single fandom you hold dear tainted (and he’s gonna do a lot of unspeakable things to fandoms), you will be molded into serving him. If his interpretation from character AI taught me anything (which I no longer support) it’s that he needs total obedience from a slave and would stop at nothing to have that.

Good luck going off the grid to avoid him, because that’s when shit gets 100 times worse. With no contact with those you care about, he’d start driving you crazy. And if you managed the injuries he did to your body when he possessed it successfully, you won’t be able to manage any further injury that happens from your eventual insanity.

Bill has a blood kink times 11. He’ll do anything to make you bleed, but not bleed out. Blood and pain is what he feeds on.

He’s going to be speaking in Y/N’s head all the fucking time. He’ll be mixing his voice directly into Y/N’s own thoughts, taking over their entire fantasies, and quite possibly drive them to the point of dissociating in a psych ward for any sort of relief if they don’t build a portal for him to cross over.

This isn’t a scenario where Y/N is blind to all the red flags, and if it were, there’d still be nothing they could really do. Y/N is powerless, riddled with fear, and trying to flee and fight at any turn. Bill truly has them trapped from the moment he laid his possessive eye on them.

[mackjlee9]

kay i'll take advantage of the hyperfixation bc i'm hyperfixated too 😋 this one is quite angsty? Depends on how you wanna do the end bc i'll leave it up to you

u see how in re6 chris asks leon if he will protect ada despite all the damage she did and he says yeah he is? What if instead of chris asking is leon's long term boyfriend since raccoon city?

like reader kinda knows he's still not over ada bc let's say reader went with him to rescue ashley in re4 and well, ada was there and shit.

so with that reader this time KNOWS leon is till not over ada no matter how much time has passed and he feels kinda betrayed bc they had a full ass relationship since raccoon city and it's been YEARS.

ending up to you ofc depending on how interested u are on writing this lmao. bye byee 💖

Ehe- I tried lol

Leon Kennedy x Male!Reader [Angst]

Maybe spoilers if you haven't played/watched re6?

Masterlist.

Resident Evil 6

(M/n) almost couldn't believe how awful this vacation was turning out to be.

From shooting the president to chasing after Ada herself, Helena could look at him with an apologetic look in her hazel eyes. (M/n) hasn't explicitly told her that he and Leon were dating, just said they were together on a vacation to relax and unwind a bit from their job on the D.S.O, but the situation had become worse than they initially thought.

And now Ada was involved? Well, when wasn't she honestly, that woman seemed to have some sort of GPS on Leon because she always showed up wherever he was, it was rather odd, still, he didn't question it, coincidences were pretty common in this kind of job.

Just look at it this way, they met with Sherry a while ago and now Chris was here too.

The three of them chased after Ada, Leon in front, and (M/n) right behind him, while Helena did her best to keep up behind them, but she was injured and she was struggling to keep up the pace. (M/n) stopped and made sure she was okay, before realizing how far Leon had run already.

"(M/n), go! I'll... I'll be fine, you go after her," she said gently pushing him away, and (M/n) hesitated for a moment, but Helena's reassuring smile helped him make up his mind.

He continued running after Leon, hearing two more foreign voices echo in the building, his eyes observing how Ada was cornered by two BSAA agents and as one of them pulled the trigger, Leon hit the gun away, immediately getting involved in a fight with the man. (M/n) arrived just in time to catch a stumbling Chris and prevent him from falling when Leon kicked his stomach hard enough to make him lose his balance.

Chris groaned from the pain, even when he was kicked over his bulletproof vest, Leon has always been known for having strong legs after all.

"Here," (M/n) mumbled while standing up and helping Chris get up from the ground, hearing him grunt a small 'thank you', all the while still being pointed by Leon with his pistol, "Leon-"

"Shut up," was all the blond said, making him swallow and nod, standing back whilst Chris and Leon started arguing. About Ada, and why she needed to die. (M/n) saw Leon clench his jaw, tightening his hold on the grip of his pistol, his cold blue eyes staring into Chris', "She's a key witness, we need her."

"A witness? She's the one that did all of this!" Chris replied, angry at what Ada had done, and probably at Leon for stopping him earlier.

"No, it wasn't her, it was Simmons, the National Security Advisor," (M/n) looked at them, hearing Helena's stumbling behind them and he helped her stand up. He wasn't sure what he was expecting the outcome of this discussion would be, but something told him he wasn't gonna like it.

"I lost all of my men because of that woman!" Chris yelled as he approached Leon, who kept a firm stance, not even blinking at his outburst.

"And I lost over seventy thousand people, including the president, because of Simmons!" He replied back with the same tone, followed by a deafening silence, the light of a chopper landing on them through the window.

Chris sighed and looked down, shaking his head before staring back at Leon, "She works for Neo-Umbrella, you know what that means?"

(M/n) watched as Leon sighed, "I do."

Glancing back and forth between the two of them, (M/n) took a deep breath, and took a step forward, slightly covering Chris with his body, he doesn't know what made him do it, maintaining eye contact with Leon's blue eyes, that remained cold and serious.

"After all she did to you, to me, to us... You're still gonna protect her, Leon?" The few seconds of silence that followed made his ears ring, the fact that he had to think about it let him know his answer.

Leon's stare hardened, seemingly unfazed by (M/n)'s words, not caring about the pain in his voice.

"I am."

(M/n) released a dry chuckle, turning around and walking away, "I was scared you were gonna say that," he mumbled as he left, finding another way to go downstairs. While he waited for them, he saw a flash of white, soon followed by Ada's body gracefully flying with her grappling hook.

They made eye contact for an instant before she ran away again, like she always did, never deviating from her mission.

He unzipped his pouch, his fingers wrapping around the velvet box, gripping it tightly as tears began gathering in his eyes. (M/n) had planned this vacation perfectly, wanting to make it special and memorable, after all, he and Leon had been in a relationship for 15 years... Or so he thought, because it seemed like he was the naive one who thought that way, when Leon was clearly smitten to Ada, after everything that happened... Everything he had done to make Leon happy...

(M/n) sighed and rubbed his temple before lowering his hand to grab his pistol, but before he could, he hit one of the pouches around his hips, his world freezing and breaking down piece by piece when he realized what he had kept safe there during this whole ordeal.

All of it had been wasted, maybe... Someone else would appreciate all his efforts?

But who? He has never loved anyone other than Leon, and it's not like he could simply move on to someone else, that wouldn't be fair to the other person.

(M/n) observed the black box in his hand, hearing the footsteps of Leon and Helena approaching his position, and he had to dry away the tears that had managed to run down his face, turning toward them with a hint of a smile, putting the box back and closing the zipper again.

"We have to keep going, let's go," he will figure out what to do when all of this is over, but right now, they had a job to do.

[gaybananabread]

♪*✧⁠Ramshackle Day Off✧⁠*♪

~It’s official: I’ve gained yet another hyperfixation. I absolutely LOVED the pilot for Ramshackle; the trash goblins grabbed my focus. So, as with all my faves, they’re getting the special treatment. If this is your flavor of interest, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Stone

Lers: Skipp, Vinnie

Summary: Stone’s having one of his emo moments, feeling down and not even cracking his usual half-smile. Skipp and Vinnie decide to help, using the one method they know will always cheer up their grungy friend. 

Warnings: alcohol/cigarettes mentioned! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

In their slum alley, the three lovable scraps lounged about, enjoying one of the very few days where they didn't have to fight to survive.

Vinnie had hit the motherload that morning in a dumpster: an entire case of Hickory Smoked Beans, just past their expiration date. It was a Ramshackle miracle.

Since they didn't have to forage for money or food, the trio could take a sort of off-day. While Vinnie and Skipp were lounging and making the most of it, Stone couldn't help but feel morose.

Sure, they had enough food for a few days. But what happens after that? What would they do when they ran out and had to go back to their normal pattern? What if they couldn't get enough, and not even shoes could sustain them?

He'd usually just chug a bit of liquor to calm those thoughts, but it didn't seem to be doing much. Life felt…impossibly meaningless. Like no matter how hard they tried, the universe would continue to put them in their place at the very bottom.

Stone had a particular look when he got into those moods. His eyes seemed distant, he sighed more, and a bottle of some cheap, scavenged liquor was always nearby. 

While looking for some fabric to patch his newest jacket hole, Skipp noticed his friend's sullen attitude. It wasn't a rare sight, by any means, but it still worried him to see Stone so upset. 

“Hey…you alright, Stone? You seem kinda out of it.” Skipp kept a respectful distance, not knowing if his friend was in a touch-positive mood or not. He extended a hand to silently ask if touch was okay. Stone shrugged, taking a swig from his mystery bottle. 

“Aren’t we all? ‘re we ever really in it, or are we jus’ waitin’ for death to find us and put us in our final place?”

“Uh…okay?” Skipp patted the emotional man’s head before scooting away, going to find Vinnie. She would know what to do…probably.

Vinnie was lounging on one of their make-shift nests when Skipp found her. She groaned, stretching as she sat up from the pile of ratty blankets and coats.

“What is it now? Today’s supposed to be relaxing,” she whined, running a hand through her unruly hair. Skipp pointed to their drunken, miserable-looking friend. “Stone’s in a sad mood again.”

“Fuckin’...course he is. The one damn day we get off…” Vinnie grumbled, dramatically hauling herself completely out of her semi-comfortable nest. “He okay with touch?”

After the blonde nodded, she marched over to Stone, waving for him to do the same. Instead of greeting him, she straddled the dejected man, squeezing his hips.

“GRK- Vihihinnie! W-whahat the hehell?!” Stone dropped his bottle, hands flying to grab Vinnie’s wrists. He was drunk, though, so his fight wasn’t a very effective one.

Skipp blushed, his eyes widening. Vinnie’s fix was…tickling him? The optimistic guy never could handle watching tickle fights without getting flustered, but now…

It looked fun from both perspectives, and Stone was quite upset. He was pretty sure his mind would behave and let him wreck his friend for one.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re cheering you up!” Even though his cheeks were still rosy, Skipp joined in, spidering his short nails on Stone’s kneecaps. It would almost certainly come back to haunt him later, but he didn’t really mind; that was a sort of bonus.

“Yep. It’s too good of a day for that depressing bullshit. You need to learn how to smile, ya mopey shit.” Vinnie was a bit less sweet, but there was a kindness in her salty words. She really cared for Stone, even if he was a depressing asshole sometimes.

“Guhuhuys! Fuhuck ohohohoff!” Stone squirmed and twisted under Vinnie, feeling the four evil hands on him. He squeezed Vinnie’s wrists, though he wasn’t exactly trying to shove her off. This wasn't lost on his friends.

“Aww, you like this, don’t you?” Surprisingly, Skipp was the one to tease him. It wasn’t exactly meant to be one, but that’s what it felt like to the giggling man. He groaned through the happy sound, covering his face with one hand. 

“Holy shit, Skipp. I think you’re right!” Vinnie chuckled, though she already knew that was the case. It was hardly the first time she’d used the method to get Stone to quit moping, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. He needed to smile more.

“Wonder what happens if I go here…” Vinnie clawed at the back of Stone’s ribs, making him snort and start cackling. It was his worst spot, and she knew it. “Oh. That. How cute!”

Was that a bit mean? Maybe, yeah, but Stone seemed like he was writing gothic poetry that morning. The shithead needed to laugh that Ramshackle sadness off.

“’M NOHOHOT CUHUTE!” Stone was practically losing it at that point. Skipp had decided to move to the undersides of his knees. That combined with the backs of his ribs was almost more than he could handle. Almost.

“VIHIHINNY! GEHE’ OHOHOHOFF’A THEHEHERE!” Stone writhed, arching his back to try and avoid her fingers. He kicked his legs, but that was pretty much useless when she was on his thighs. Skipp had free reign of his lower body, and Vinnie was practically unstoppable up top.

“But I like it here! You look like Maggot with all that squirming, dude.” She mentioned their angelic friend, trying to get him blushing more. His cheeks were pink, but Vinnie wanted more. She knew how red he could get.

“Oh yeah, he does!” Out of Stone’s view, Skipp giggled, making Stone groan. That little ball of sunshine just had to comment on everything, didn’t he? Stone cared for him, of course; he just wanted to lovingly strangle him sometimes.

“You know what eats maggots, Stone?” He flipped the blonde off, but Skipp didn’t mind. The next few seconds would make up for that. “Jumping spiders!”

Skipp clawed his hands, switching spots every few seconds to spider each area on his legs. It was kinda dumb, but scientifically accurate. That, and it tickled like crazy.

“SKIHIHIHPP! IHIHI- PFFAHAHAHA!” All protests died, swallowed up in loud, throaty cackles. His nerves were practically on fire, his thoughts drowned out by his own laughter. It was finally too much.

“EHEHENOHOUGH!” Stone yelled through his mirth, patting Vinnie’s shoulder. She immediately pulled away, Skipp following suit. Vinnie climbed off, giving him a second. 

Stone immediately curled in on himself, turning into a giggly pill bug as he recovered. “F-fuhuhuck youhu guhuhuhuys…” 

Vinnie chuckled, used to his profanities. She knows they usually mean he had fun, but was still a bit salty. Skipp, however, was concerned they’d crossed a line. “Stone? Did we go too far?”

The man huffed, swallowing another bout of giggles. His composure was mostly back, the thin line of his lips showing a ghost of a smile. “Nah, yohou’re fine. Youhu suck, thohough.”

Rolling her eyes, Vinnie nudged the giggly man’s shoulder. “Ah, whatever. You were being a downer, and you know it.” 

Stone lovingly flipped her off and grumbled something under his breath. Skipp pulled both of them into a hug, and for once, Stone didn’t pull away. He’d never admit it, but the embrace felt nice at that moment.

“C’mon, guys. Let’s enjoy our day off!” Skipp’s attitude remained bright as ever. Stone opened his mouth to argue, but huffed and shook his head. 

“Fine. I’m taking Vinnie’s nest.” Stone sauntered over to the pile of cloth, smirking at Vinnie’s near-instant outrage.

“Hey! Get your own rags, Nevermore!” The two started playfully wrestling, fighting over the nest Skipp knew they’d end up sharing. He leaned against the wall of the slum alley, watching his friends and taking in the happiness they both now felt.

Yep. Perfect Ramshackle day off.

[cafejulii]

Truly one of the most amazing things I have come to discover during the reemergence of my hunter x hunter hyperfixation is the entirety of Leokuraudio. The events/punchlines that occur in them are so baffling to me in the best way possible.

For instance, what on earth do you mean that the creators of hxh 1999 decided to make a spin-off audio series that begins by introducing Leorio as an old man, and his grandson? The grandson finds a discarded set of audio tapes. When he confronts Leorio about what they are, he is hit by a massive wave of nostalgia, and tells his grandchild about how they were a podcast series he made back in the day while traveling the world, with, in his own words, his "very best friend" (Kurapika). They then begin to listen to the tapes, which is how we get the whole story.

What on earth do you mean there is an episode where Kurapika goes in a time machine to met Grandpa Leorio? Only, after he is done and decides to return back to the present, the machine is malfunctions and standing before him is Leorio as a toddler. He repeatedly begins to insist that Kurapika is a woman to which Kurapika is so annoyed by that he ends up yelling at a literal child. (By the way, Toddler Leorio still has the voice of a fully grown man as he continues to insult Kurapika.)

What on earth do you mean that are multiple episodes revolving around a robot that Leorio had built to perfectly resemble Kurapika? He had attempted to use it for cleaning and to take care of him while he was sick, only, Kurapika-robo starts to malfunction at the very mention of a spider's web and begins to repeatedly scream "chain" as it pelts Leorio with an actual chain. (Gon and Killua are even aware of the robot's existence while Kurapika himself remains oblivious of the whole charade until one of the very last episodes, where he walks in, shocked to find his mechanical evil twin. Leorio's only reaction to being caught is to exclaim "Ah the real one!!")

Speaking of Leorio, what on earth do you mean these audios consist of episodes of Leorio falling off Heaven's Arena, Leorio almost dying in an avalanche, Leorio getting lost in space....? (In short, Leorio goes through a lot but he has plot armor and Kurapika's assistance so it’s ok.)

And speaking of Kurapika, what on earth do you mean Leokuraudio has one of the most stoic characters within the entire series actually end up giving in to his phenomenal sense of humor? They really had him interrupting Leorio just to scream "that was ball!" in response to his attempted english pronunciations. There are so many more instances in which he does sassy shit like this too.

What on earth do you mean that each episode has unique, overly dramatic introduction for both Kurapika and Leorio? (There was one that specifically introduced Kurapika as the "sort of guy that when dressed as a woman gets hit on by other guys" and Leorio as "the sort of guy that when dressed as a woman gets arrested.")

What on earth do you mean that the entire comedic punchline of the "moody" audios is that they are essentially just clean parodies sensual/erotic audios from the 90’s? (described as "echi echi" by the two of them). Hearing the both of them say “soooo moody” to one another over and over again in the most suggestive voice ever was just....an experience to say the least. I truly cannot fathom how Togashi allowed these audios to air, yet, I am so grateful he did.

But it's also just mainly so fun to watch Kurapika and Leorio not be in a constant crisis and just have strings of conversation that are genuinely very sweet at times. I could go on and on, but for the sake of the length of this post, in conclusion, everything about Leokuraudio is just so utterly surreal yet so insanely hilarious. I couldn’t recommend it more.

@nanacriedpower this one is for u

[leighsartworks216]

hello i love your work, i check the collection on ao3 every morning like a newspaper haha. it astounds me how much you're able to write in such a short time. i also have a request. what are ur thoughts on this as tav and astarion (tav being the sleeper, astarion being the insomniac)

https://twitter.com/sevspam/status/1706371876367503693?s=46

I don’t have the right brain rn to write a full story out of this (fighting off the Enola Holmes hyperfixation omfg) but here’s some random hcs/thoughts. This is set after the end of the game (no spoilers or anything) if y’all decided to live in the city or smth idk, just above ground

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 556

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You always try to sleep in

Always

And you always try to keep him with you when you do

He’ll meditate or sleep for his 4 hours (if he’s lucky enough to avoid nightmares) and just be laying there until morning, cuddling you

And then he’ll get restless as the sun rises, but the moment he tries to slip away, you’re wrapped around him like a vice

And no matter how long you keep him imprisoned there, you’re still utterly exhausted when you get up

When you were traveling across Faerûn, he thought it was just because of all the fighting and adventuring

But no

You’re just always tired

You probably take a nap on the couch in the afternoon, and he’s there with your head or feet in his lap as he works on something, or he’s straight up squeezing in to lay with you

If he doesn’t go to bed with you immediately, you have to go retrieve him

He’ll put off sleep at night for as long as possible, especially if his mind is being cruel to him

You’ll find him hunched over his embroidery or nose-deep in a book, and you’ll lean over the back of the couch and hug him from behind

If he doesn’t get to a stopping point fast enough, you’ll fall asleep just like that

Gods, how many times he’s had to carry you back to bed just because he’s too stubborn

You both have deep bags under your eyes

Both of you kissing under the others’ eyes as a cute little thing <333

If there’s a sun beam on the floor, and you happen to walk through it, oh boy he will find you on the floor taking a nap

He would move you somewhere more comfortable, but he doesn’t want to get burned, so he simply rolls his eyes and moves on

He does love it when you wake up from your sun beam nap and hug him, because he can feel the lingering warmth clinging to you

Sometimes he’ll have a nightmare late at night and cling tightly to you to ground himself

And he feels bad for it, but you’ll wake up, all bleary-eyed and slow-brained, and you’ll rub patterns into his lower back and pet his hair

You actively fight against going back to sleep just to stay up and comfort him

If he can’t calm down as easily, you’ll get up with him and make yourself coffee or a very strong tea to keep you sort of awake

Lots of late night convos during these moments

You sitting on the couch with your back against the armrest and Astarion spreading out along the length with his head in your lap

Or like laying on his stomach and pressing his face against your belly with his arms wrapped around your back

Oh yeah that’s the shit

You’ll always fall asleep before him, but he loves listening to your even breathing

He’d probably be annoyed if you snore at first

But then it grows on him and becomes too endearing

Honestly he probably gets so adjusted to it and so subconsciously tuned to it, that if you ever stop snoring just randomly in the middle of the night for whatever reason, he’s awake and just trying to figure out why tf he’s awake wtf

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @tototini @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive @thistrashisreadytobash @rosxtinted @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @the-lake-is-calling @nyxmainex @squid-killer

[nonbinarylocalcryptid]

I'm gonna give you all (and at the same time, write It all down for my future self) an inside of how my writing process works feat. ADHD and sponsored by the autistic hyperfixation of the moment

*insert Professor Layton puzzle music*

Picture the #daddy Odysseus AU/Astyanax lives, now think about the timeline, how does that work? Allow me to bring up the following points/establish some sort of timeline:

-The kid must be ten years old by the time Odysseus reach Ithaca or the math won't be mathing and we can't have that

-This whole scenario must be as much Canon Compliant as possible. "But Morgan, the Odyssey has many adaptations!" Well my fellow Tumblr users, that's why we are sticking to Epic: The Musical; that, greek mythology and the power of fanfic make a dangerous yet powerful combination. And memes, a lot of memes.

-Keep in mind Zeus wants Astyanax dead because "it's the will of the gods", aka I'm inmortal and bored and it's way more dramatic this way

-Poseidon wants him dead because Zeus wants him dead. Odysseus, dude, how do you dare to defy a god's orders by keeping a baby alive???

-So the father and son duo has pissed off two major gods, Eurylochus is having an aneurism, Polited welcomes the kid with Open Arms (evil laugh)

-The musical goes as we know but with a toddler, chaos guys, chaos everywhere, so much things to write...

-My brain keeps telling me Astyanax starts teething by the time they leave the island in the sky, so not only have Odysseus to keep an eyes on the bag-that-does-not-contain-treasure he also is kept awake by a crying baby

-Tiresias is quite surprised that Odysseus keep the kid but this is greek mythology and at this point, in John Mulaney's wise words, this may as well happen.

-Little Astyanax can't not hold a sword because it's way too heavy for him, but the Odyssey is dangerous so let's give him a KNIFE and a BOW

-Also he's sassy, like, really sassy

-Odysseus is doing what he can, but lmao, try to raised someone in the middle of the Odyssey

-Let's pepper in some beautiful moments of paternal love because that's why we are here

-Odysseus has the mission to raise this kid with the perfect balanced of the Ruthlessness nad Open Arms philosophies, which is complicated because he is busy dealing with crysis after crysis and it's also hypocrital of him, he's way more ruthless with every day it passes.

-To maximize ✨DRAMA✨, Astyanax must learn about what happened in Troy and who he is (because guys, this is greek mythology, let's make it dramatic)

-Astyanax's opinion of the gods is quite cynic (can't blame him *cough cough* Zeus *cough cough*), but he still likes a few

-Because of the point above, this smol boy filled with rage and raised by Odysseus (dangerous combination) it's going to have a certified teenage rebellion and flee away in the middle of the night™ after facing Scylla and right before Mutiny and Thunder Bringer. This way, he can have a yelling match with his father figure, and Odysseus will face his crew alone etc

-I'm still working out in the how, but Astyanax will go back to Circe's island, and Circe will give out some really good advice and a power up, maybe even Hermes would stir up the pot a bit because damm, this shit is hilarious may as well fuck it all up a bit more.

-Astyanax reunites with Odysseus while he is fighting Charybdis, beautiful father and son moment blah blah blah, Astyanax is still salty (cuz they are in the middle of the sea hehe) but the time away has allowed him to rethink stuff. He is also a little shit and always has been so expect a lot of jokes and dark humour about Troy (coping mechanisms and all that). Odysseus could barely handle his sarcasm before, now he has no chance, he rather fight Poseidon blindfolded.

-Talking about Mr Why Did You Blind My Son, they faced him together.

-As the chaotic little shit he is, Astyanax assists Telemachus in his fight against the suitors. Telemachus does not know who this feral kid is but this is not the moment to ask questions.

-Athena loves the little shit, much to her surprised.

-Angst with Happy Ending because of the power of fanfic and headcanons

-Everything else after this point is slice of life feat. comedy

-Odysseus and Athena reconcialiation of we riot feat. Telemachus' face when he realizes who his friend was.

-Maybe a young man Astyanax decides to reclaim his throne helped by Telemachus and backed up by Ithaca?

[partywithoutsmiling]

Alright darling (can i call you that?) the Rock Beast AU just became my new ✨️hyperfixation✨️ so prepare! Please tell us how does John reacts to his bitty B becoming a Monster

Once he actually finds out who the great Beast is, not very well obviously XD

But if that AU would be a fic, it would be at least couple chapters down the line. My idea for Poppy's and Branch's escape is that while at first they crossed quite a distance through air, soon they were forced to travel by foot, as Branch's wing becomes injured and trying to take flight again would be foolish.

A blessing in disguise it turns out, as the Rock Trolls under Barb's command do not think to stop and search the ground, not that close to their territory, and our duo hides out of sight in the undegrowth, just to see their Angler Ships pass overhead, clearly heading towards the Pop territory

(the thought for this AU being that Barb is convinced that Pop poses exactly the same amount of threat as it did in the ancient past, where they were the most numerous, and seeing the pitiful number of Pop trolls rounded up, figures there must be more Pop villages hidden deep inside the woods that make their territory- so it would make sense to her to think Poppy and Branch went to get more back up- which is correct in a way, as Branch's intention was to fly them all the way to Bergentown, as having giants for allies would become handy in this case)

Meeting John Dory was a complete accident. Headcanoning that he had bad business with the Rock Trolls in the past, he probably decided to skeddadle into the wilderness once he saw the activity in the sky, not wanting to deal with that business- and I liked the idea that the Neverglades were actually a sort of natural border between Pop and Rock, a contested piece of land for both. Usually quite content to sleep out and about, either under stars or in Rhonda, the storm and all the chaos happening around him has him relocate to well known and explored caves- in which he finds Poppy and Branch, who sort of unanimously decide to keep their travelling to the night time, where it gives them less chance to be spotted.

Neither group is thrilled to be discovered by the other, at first- John Dory simply on the principle that lone trolls seems to be bounty hunters more often than not (and this one has a literal monster by her side!) and Poppy... well, for the exact same reason really XD she had been burned by her trust in a stranger- one that led her into this mess she is in- and the source of her major guilt is standing right behind her.

However, compared to JD, she is injured; an unexpected dip in the lake left her feeling sickly, and she is starving- and Branch is hardly doing any better. So it all ends up in a rather tense stand off, where Branch is the only one spiralling, because holy shit that's his brother

And he wants to wail and he wants to sink his claws into JD's face and tear that smug ass grin off his face- and it's the shock of that thought that has him to do neither of those things, and instead forces him to evaluate the situation a bit better.

Because for all JD's abandonment, he is a Pop Troll- and that means a potential ally- and so it is with a gentle nuzzle that he sooths Poppy's unvoiced fears and worries, and encourages her to ask JD for help

The introductions come, of course- but Poppy doesnt mention that Branch is a troll-turned-beast, and while JD's expression turns rather strained at hearing Branch's name, there is nothing that would clue him in that Branch is *his* Branch (His precious baby brother, who he thinks is dead for several years, and being an expert at avoidance of painful truths, there is no way he is sharing that with a complete stranger)

So as far he knows, Poppy's "pet" just has a rather unfortunate name, and Branch's colours are again rather washed out.

Branch just doesnt want to deal with the mess that is his familial trauma and is quite relieved JD doesnt have a clue to his original identity

(of course Poppy, desperate to socialize after being locked up with no-one but mute Branch for company, ends up bonding with JD rather quickly- especially after he treats her wounds and offers her a safe shelter- and finding his collection of memorabilia snowballs into discovering his identity as THE John Dory- and Branch's connection to it all, when John Dory, unable to resist the force that is Poppy, eventually talks about all his brothers- including Bitty B)

Also, this isn't connected to that scene, but even then I think you would enjoy this little treat:

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

Branch was injured.

That much Poppy could observe, from the simple way he was carrying himself.

The rush of their escape didn’t seem to want to pass; the pink troll felt like every breath came out with accompanied tremble, and her heart was keen on making itself as loud as possible- it drummed hard in her ears and pulsed in tandem with the ache that throbbed mutely through her sore arm.

The sudden dive and crash into the murky depths of the lake jostled it- but at the time, her mind was hardly crystal clear enough to focus on anything but uncoordinated flailing as she panicked from the shock of the chilling water, trying to instinctively kick herself up to get to the surface. A great deal of her attention had also been overtaken by fear; for her life, yes, but also for Branch, as she had seen him seize up in one blink and then start falling out of the sky in another, his grip on her- previously strong and secure- now limp and weak, a puppet losing all motion as if its strings were suddenly cut.

Yet it was him who dragged her out of the lake in the end, his great head going under her belly and chest and lifting her high above the surface, leaving her clutching onto his mane with painful grip, gasping and sputtering, a sob roughly tearing through her throat before she could stop it. The sudden relief of air filling her lungs once more was not enough to mask the sudden pain that laced through her right arm, and Poppy had sobbed once more, clenching her eyes shut, burying her face into the soggy mess of Branch’s hair.

Low rumbling moan echoed from the beast under her, the strength of it- for all that it was quiet- reaching all the way to her core- but she was unable to do anything but breathe, the action shallow and painful, as her arm throbbed throbbed throbbed.

Vaguely, she felt the chilling water lapping at her legs, and her ears twitched at the sound of soft splashes- the body under her rocking forward, Branch’s breath just as shallow as hers, but clearly now moving, swimming, towards what she hoped was dry land.

The sky crackled, a thunder left in the wake of it, and she shivered when a first drop splashed against her back, bringing a shock of ice to her already drenched body. Another moan and Branch lurched forward, his swimming now gaining urgency- even in this shape, he was well aware of the danger that rain possessed for species as small as theirs, especially when it caught them on a lake. The prickle of unease was what had her force herself to lift her herself up, her good arm gripping Branch’s mane more firmly while held the other more securely to her chest.

Already the drops were breaking the surface apart, the water splashing up and sending waves that clearly impeded her friend’s progress; one that seemed to be made difficult simply for the fact that Branch had extra set of limbs that were hardly made for swimming- with one wing flapping or paddling awkwardly to help propel forward, while her other followed at much slower pace. It was the trembles and shakes that seemed to run through the appendage that caused Poppy’s heart to plummet to the depths of her stomach.

“Branch..?”

He voice was a pathetically weak and wobbly thing- there has been a shock, followed by euphoria, when her companion suddenly ripped through the bars dividing their cells like knife through butter. His cell had been a dark and dreary place, cut away from any natural light- hers had a large barred window that showed nothing but the menacing glow of the volcano, its fiery tones casting orange hues into the grim, cloudy looking sky. She had often caught him watching through the gaps of his cell, great glowing red eyes focused intently on the singular glimpse of freedom, and many times wondered if his sudden critter like instincts urged him to take flight. He did many things in the time they had nothing but each other for company, that could hardly hint that his interest could have other reasons. He prowled around, as much as his chains allowed him, and quite often his wings would flap. His claws would flex and his limbs would stretch- and Poppy had thought it a simple restlessness of a trapped animal, frustrated at the lack of necessary space.

She had thought. She didn’t expect it to be a slow exploration and familiarization of foreign limbs and muscles- not until she had been scooped up like kittenbug, and not until they were hurling face first through the window, Branch simply tucking his head closer to his body and tearing through it like a single-troll battering ram.

“Branch,” she whispered again, the sound trailing into a low moan, not unlike his own- but he didn’t respond, not even with a growl- not until she let go of his mane so she could gingerly touch the trembling wing.

The limb flinched and Branch went stiff under her for a moment, soft warning hiss audible even through the loudness of the storm- and though he didn’t stop his swimming, Poppy withdrew her hand as if burned, realizing that now perhaps wasn’t the best time to find out where his hurts were coming from.

“I’m sorry,” her apology was quick and strained ,“I’m sorry, Branch, I’m sorry-“ and the water was now blurring her vision, and perhaps it was her tears and not the rain, and perhaps her ill timed touch was not what she was apologizing for.

But Branch suddenly made a soft chuff, and his head twisted to peer back at her, the lamp like glow of his red eyes more comforting than one would expect. But Poppy hardly felt unnerved by the sight of them- not when she couldn’t feel any drop of malice, and the pink troll heaved a shuddering breath, bowing forward so she could reach and gently rub one of the Beast’s long ears. The appendage flicked, and his eyes blinked slowly, another chuff falling from his lips, before he turned to face forward again, his swimming seemingly becoming more determined.

Poppy swallowed and closed her eyes, her exhale a tad less shaky than before.

They will be okay. They have to be.