#he's admittedly really difficult to keep consistent
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Casually reposts the man because I want everybody to look at him
#he got popular from recent pages so uwu#big thanks to my partner for doing the base sketches for these!!#he's admittedly really difficult to keep consistent#im about 50 pages ahead of where we are on the blog here and im STILL struggling to draw him on model lol#bone#bloodclan#bird designs#references#some trivia: he's partially based on a husky! so his tail always curls like that uwu#he also has a bit of an underbite#his bottom fangs are bigger than the top ones
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AS A BOYFRIEND osamu dazai
* ˚ ✦ synopsis: how osamu dazai would be as a significant other.
* ˚ ✦ genre: headcanons !
* ˚ ✦ warnings: not spoiler free + mentions character death in anime + mentions of suicide.
* ˚ ✦ author’s note: my first BSD post !! enjoy the new content! <333 ( also, i did try to take a more canon approach to this just so i could practice characterization ! feel free to critique anything or give some feedback in general ! )
the famous osamu dazai. a young man who’s enemies shouldn’t be exactly proud that they are his enemies. a man who has too many tricks up his sleeves, and always seems to manage to get himself out of the stickiest of situations. a man with convoluted emotions that no one could ever quite understand, except for his closest late friend sakunosuke oda.
but even in the darkest of moments, dazai still has a lighthearted side to him despite the enigmatic façade he keeps all the time. due to his past, i could find it very difficult for him to fully commit to anyone exclusively.
not saying he would sleep around a lot or have a significant amount of women on his roster, but due to his job and the way he views humanity and what it means to be alive. dazai finds little to no joy in living—so why would he even try a romantic relationship?
so, in these terms, you were not an exception.
at first, he viewed you as this beautiful girl he could finally do a double suicide with. after being the third woman to join the armed detective agency, he never really attempted to hide himself from you. so you saw all of his unwillingness to live very quickly and admittedly it made you a lot less attracted to him.
yes, he may have had the looks but his personality was an entire red flag for you. he never liked talking about himself or his past. he doesn’t open up. he’s serious, but not in the way you would want him to be with you. he’s serious about his job, he’s serious about the armed detective agency, and he’s serious about the relationships he has with the people around him.
but he was never serious about himself.
he knew this and never noticed how many people cared about him. but that’s not his fault, especially since being in the port mafia has extremely distorted his morality.
and over time, you learned to accept this side of him. you learned that you could never truly understand the mind of osamu dazai unless he decides to have that conversation with you.
after a plethora of missions alongside dazai, you did notice your growing feelings for him. the charming and overly dramatic side of him paralleled with an excessive amount of wisdom that grew on you. dazai knew his way with his words, and did he maybe try to woo you here and there? of course.
dazai was no fool, he knew about your feelings for him. he found himself also feeling the same but wasn’t sure how to express them. this feeling was somewhat unfamiliar. he knew how it felt to have feelings for someone but to also want to have a romantic relationship with them? he was stuck.
he was scared. he didn’t want to get you, someone he cared about, to get wrapped up in his business. for his enemies to become yours, and for you to fall victim to their wrath. causing dazai to lose someone else that gave him a reason to keep living.
so a lot of your interactions, before getting together, consisted of you blatantly flirting with each other during work or just in general.
but when you both finally decided to give things a shot, boy did that change things for both of you and the agency in general.
you both were a secret at first. it was obvious you both had something going on but no one had gotten a confirmation so no one assumed. this was all stopped when atsushi, of all people, walked into the office hallway at the wrong time.
there were you and dazai, having the most heated makeout session ever. atsushi was for one, a little traumatized, he’s never seen dazai in this way nor did he ever predict he would. he stood in silence while the both of you were frantically trying to fix yourself as if he didn’t stumble upon the whole scene. atsushi was at a loss for words. “i’m-i’m… just gon—gonna…” he bolted out of the office after he just came to the conclusion he was not gonna be able to talk to you after seeing that.
safe to say that he looked neither of you in the eye for about a week. but best believe he did blurt it out randomly on a quiet day in the office, and that’s how news spread. y/n and dazai are officially dating!
now, onto the actual relationship and not the buildup.
fresh into it, things didn’t change. besides the fact you both had exchanged numbers by then and you could see him outside of work and at your home as well. you both still had the same dumb arguments as you had before but with a heavy amount of tension this time.
once you both get comfortable, PDA is your fucking thing. sitting on his lap while he worked or him always having his arm wrapped around your shoulder or waist. you could say he was doing all of this just to spite kunikida! he was.
dazai is romantic when he puts the effort in. some of your dates are followed with a nice candlelit dinner in an extremely fancy restaurant, or just you or him going to one another’s place just to feel each other’s presence.
there was versatility, and you liked that.
you began to see more of a vulnerable side of dazai as time went on. he started to share more of his life piece by piece to you. you were patient with him, and he appreciated that. he never goes into explicit detail about every little thing about himself, but you can tell he’s trying to change for you as his love for you blossoms into something he never thought could be possible for him.
you both still have your disagreements here and there, and arguments with him are extremely painful. they aren’t rare but they aren’t common either. most of the time it is just petty arguments, just a few minutes of bickering, and dazai is already attached to your hip smothering you with kisses just to show how sorry he is.
painful arguments consist of the both of you not talking for days on end. having to see each other at work made it even more difficult, and when you both weren’t talking, yosano is always coming up to you because it is obvious something is wrong between you too. you reassure her things will be fine and you still love him all the same.
making up with dazai is surprisingly easy. the no communication stage isn’t, but once you both have had time to calm down and think about the situation, he is more than capable of having a mature conversation with you and mending things.
osamu dazai is not the perfect boyfriend, but he isn’t a bad one either. he is someone who would come with a lot of baggage and patience—learning that he’s not someone who easily communicates his feelings and would rather keep up the mysterious act to the grave. nonetheless, dazai is trying. he’s attempting to change and seems a lot healthier these days ever since he’s been with you. things are positive overall, but this also includes your cooperation and being able to handle him as a person and not just as a boyfriend.
(📦) — BUNGOU STRAY DOGS TAGLIST // n/a . . .
(📝) — TAGLIST FORM :: sign to be apart of the taglist!
#✏️ :: — fanfiction !#bungou stray dogs fanfiction#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd x reader#dazai x reader#dazai x fem reader#dazai osamu x reader#dazai osamu x fem reader#osamu dazai x reader#dazai fluff#osamu dazai fluff
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I want to express my frustration because... im trying to write some time travel Merthur fanfic as one does...
and I keep hitting my head against the same wall. Because just in case you didn't know England SUCKED before imperialism and colonialism.
Not that that made it better but, the English isles didn't have a variety of fruits or vegetables, the did have meat and fish and salt I think, but no sugar or way of producing it but honey if I remember correctly.
And admittedly climate change is a pain in the ass, but in medieval times the winters probably consisted in huge blizzards and freezing for 4 months.
They didn't even had tea!!!
All the good stuff its because of colonialism which is horrible for the world but whatever.
Im trying so hard to ignore this facts... to be free and write about silly angsty boys but I needed someone to know how difficult it is.
Because Merlin having lived in a 21 century would have spent since the 16th drinking bloody tea, and now he is back in time and doesn't have tea, doesn't even have sugar, it's a pain in the ass to get milk, and he can't even get his favorites foods because the fruits and vegetables aren't even evolved yet.
BECAUSE YES! All of the greens have suffered a tremendous amount of change because of selective farming!! so even if there were apples back there, they probably wasn't the same apple, probably weren't even half as sweet as they are now a days!
Same with animals, and plants. Many of the species have gone extinct but they existed back then. And im dying for a chance to bring this into the fic, to prove just how difficult the transition it's, but a the same time, it doesn't matter right? not really.
bUT I NEEDED TO VENT A LITTLE SO thank you for listening to my rant.
Also im not even a history girly, im an art babe, so all of this I know by logic and assumptions from my art history clases, and my hyper fixation, so obviously take everything with a grain of salt.
((It's just that I was cooking and I was trying to think which ingredients were available at that time to make the most simple dish but no, there was almost none, no spices, no tomato, I think the had cabbage, and like broccoli because its the same plant, but probably wasn't evolved into all of the different versions we know, they had beans, and lentils I think, the potatoes come from South America, so no potatoes, the had bread but what kind of bread??? sO YEAH, this is my head.. all the time))
#fanfiction#au#idea#merlin emrys#merlin x arthur#merthur#bbc merlin#fanfic#merlin#arthur pendragon#time travel#imagine having tried a kebab#and then going back to the Middle Ages#sorry Merlin but I could not#writing promt#merthur prompt#fic prompt#in the end the solution to this its always magic#magic doesn't need logic#but its still annoying#and funny#Actually#imagine athur eating a tomato for the first time#or like a banana#where does the pomegranate comes from#I need to do research
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'I'm In Love With You' - Jon Bon Jovi x Reader
A/N: Thank you once again to @elliotts-personal-property for helping me overcome the writer's block I had for this fic. To the anon that requested it, I hope you like it. I haven't written for JBJ for ages as my other fic was written months before I posted it, so I hope this is alright 💖💖
Masterlist
The day I met Jon for the first time in the record store started out like any other. I hadn’t anticipated that I would meet the rockstar at all, in fact I was hoping for as little human interaction as possible. Purely because I just wanted to be left in peace whilst I searched through the records.
However, that was not to be. As soon as I walked in the store, I saw that there was only one other person in there. I recognised him straight away. Everyone around here knew who Bon Jovi were. Not that I cared much for them. I didn’t mind their music and had their debut record at home, I just didn’t fall at their feet like most of the people here.
At first I tried to ignore him, moving my way through the store and looking over the stock of records. However, it became more difficult to ignore the singer as when I next looked up he was standing only a few feet away from me. Trying not to catch his attention, I slowly moved away again.
However it was too late. Before I knew it Jon was standing right next to me and I could feel his eyes staring at me.
“Can I help you?” I asked him, barely looking up.
“Not really, just wanted to talk to a pretty lady s’all.” He responded with a wink and a cheeky grin.
“Well unfortunately for you, I’m not in the mood to be spoken to today, sorry.” I lamely excused myself. Part of me felt bad for being rude, but the other part couldn’t find it in me to care. Jon just carried on standing there with a grin on his face, not deterred by my bluntness in any way.
“Do you really listen to this?” He questioned me as he looked at the records I was flicking through. Admittedly synth-pop wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea but that was part of the reason I listened to it. I liked the way that the music I listened to was created for people who didn’t quite fit into society. It was for the misfits who didn’t fit in with the misfits. Listening to artists create music to stand out made me feel more confident in myself.
“Yes I do.” I answered his question. Jon didn’t respond to that and instead just carried on looking at the records I was searching through.
“I’m Jon by the way.” He smiled at me, ignoring the obvious tension between the two of us.
“I’m Y/N.” I half heartedly responded, earning another cheeky grin in return.
*
Over the next few weeks, this became a regular occurrence. How one manages to bump into a rising rockstar nearly every week I’ll never know but for some reason it kept happening. Our encounters consisted of heated arguments over music, each time we met the disagreements got more intense. At one point I was sure that we would get kicked out of the store but when the owner recognised Jon, he thought against it and just told us to keep it down instead.
I had resigned to the fact that no matter how much I tried to avoid him, every power in the universe was ensuring that I would run into him again. Despite our differences of opinions when it came to music, I found myself almost looking forward to seeing Jon. That should have been my first clue that I was falling in love with him; however, the stubbornness inside of me refused to believe it.
It wasn’t until he went on tour that I realised how badly in love with him I was. I found that our senseless squabbles and the ridiculous comments that were made purely for the sake of it, was actually just me covering for the apparent love I held for him.
When I came to that dreadful realisation, I decided that the best thing to do was to try and stay away from him as much as possible. I didn’t know the specific date in which Jon got back off of tour but it was soon.
*
Eventually I saw him walking towards the record store one day. Rather than go in like I had planned, I promptly turned away and made my way to another store. If I saw him on the street then I went the other way. Maybe I was being ridiculous but that sounded more appealing than admitting my obviously unrequited feelings.
It was only two weeks after I first saw Jon when he got back off of tour, my luck of avoiding him ran out.
“Y/N.”
Upon hearing my name I turned around, only to see exactly who had called my name. I quickly spun away again and continued walking. The rain was pouring down and all I wanted to do was get home and curl up in my pyjamas. I did not want to face any altercation that may be coming my way.
“Y/N, wait.” Jon called again. Just as I went to speed up, I felt his hand clasp down on my shoulder. “What are you doing? Why are you ignoring me?” Jon asked, inquisitive as always.
“Look Jon, I have to go.” I tried to pull away from him but he was having none of it.
“Why? I haven’t seen you since I got home, where have you been?���
“I’ve been busy Jon.” I tried not to snap at him. Afterall it wasn’t his fault that I had fallen in love with him.
Jon just looked at me. I couldn’t help but stare at him, the way his usually fluffy hair stuck to his face in the rain. How his brow was furrowed in confusion. Even in the rain he looked like the most ethereal man to walk the earth. His lips pouted slightly as he tried to work out why I had been avoiding him.
When I realised that I was staring, I started to pull away, only for Jon to grab me gently by the wrist and tug me back towards him. Being in close proximity to him made my heart race and I could only hope that he couldn’t hear over the noise of the rain.
“Y/N what’s going on?” Jon asked softly as he stared into my eyes.
“Why do you care?” I asked him, though there was no malice in my tone. “We only talk when we are arguing about music, so why do you care if there is something wrong?”
“Because…” Jon stopped for a moment.
Whilst Jon looked for the words to say, I wriggled out of his grip and started to walk away again. I wanted so badly to be wrapped up in his arms and pulled into his chest whilst he kissed me senseless, but in the back of my mind, all I could think about was the consequences of being rejected by him.
I didn’t think my heart could take it if he didn’t feel the same way, which was almost inevitable.
I didn’t get far again before Jon ran in front of me. Putting his hands on my shoulders, he looked into my eyes.
“Something is obviously going on. Please tell me. I can’t help if you won’t let me.”
“You can’t fix this Jon. Just leave me be.” The look in his eyes was nearly killing me.
“Y/N please.” Jon's voice broke into a whisper, it was at that point that I felt tears running down my face, mixed with raindrops. No wonder the man was concerned about me when I stood in front of him crying. “Just talk to me darlin’.”
As soon as he said that the waterworks became unstoppable. The realisation that I was about to be rejected by the one man that I have ever felt like this for, tore my heart into tiny pieces. The emotional pain transformed into a pain in my chest as if my heart was about to break.
“I’m in love with you.” The words spilled out before I could stop them and the shock on Jon’s face replaced the concern immediately. When Jon didn’t say anything I found myself nervously continuing.
“I know that you probably don’t feel the same way and that's why I didn’t want to say anything but now I have and I am making an-” I was cut off from my rambling by a pair of lips on mine.
Jon moved away before I had a chance to reciprocate. “Sorry you were just talking and talking, it's the only way I could think of to get you to calm down.”
I stared up at him, probably resembling a deer in headlights. Before I could even think about what I was doing I stood on my toes to reach him and pressed another kiss to his lips. He immediately reacted and kissed me back with so much passion that I thought I might pass out.
I couldn’t even feel the cold from the rain as I stood in his embrace. My arms wrapped around his neck whilst his hands rested on my hips, pulling me closer to him. When the two of us pulled away again, Jon rested his forehead on mine, not allowing me to move backwards.
“In case you couldn’t tell, I’m in love with you too. I don’t tend to argue with just anyone over and over again.” Jon laughed before pecking me on the nose. Smiling up at him I connected our lips yet again before pulling away and tugging at his hand.
“Where are we going?” He questioned with a small grin on his gorgeous face.
“My place.” I winked, “Gotta get out of these wet clothes.”
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First, I just want to say that your analysis on the Suzuka race weekend was absolutely beautiful - thought out, concise, to the point and really well written!
I just have one question, since you seem really knowledgeable on the more physics - concerning aspects of a race - how is negative tyre deg even possible? I know what it is, the definition isn't the problem, what I don't get is how can it even happen? How can you go faster on older tyres, how does that possibly work? Considering physics point towards the maxima you, yourself mentioned - new tyres = ability to go faster. And yet negative deg is possible, which has me incredibly confused.
Admittedly, physics isn't my strongest subject, so forgive me if the answer to my question is something very obvious, I would still appreciate you taking the time to explain it!
Took me a while to get to this one because it is a very advanced concept as far as the physics are concerned, and full disclosure I am by no means a physics expert. I understand the principals at play but the calculations for these relationships are pretty advanced.
But the main thing for why this is possible has to do with a relationship between the suspension, the track temperature, the camber of the tyres, the specific setup a driver chooses for their car, and the driver and their driving during the race.
So the idea is if you have a car base that is gentle on the tyres like the SF-24 the tyres may not warm up quickly. Tyres that are warmed will be able to have better grip and thus go faster. So if you have a car that isn't warming the tyres on the first laps enough for maximum performance then there exists a window where it is possible to go faster in later laps. This window can be widened by a driver's specific car setup choices as well as driving. The wider a driver can keep this window the longer they can maintain zero to negative deg. This is I believe what is going on with the SF-24.
So basically if you drive and achieve almost zero deg at first, you are essentially still on new tyres and thus when you want to push to go faster or increase your speed you can. This is a very oversimplified explanation and it doesn't apply to every single instance where we have seen a driver achieve this but you get the idea.
You see this in miniature with some laps for some drivers, if they have a really clean lap you often see them able to do a slightly faster lap or an identical lap on the next one because they didn't degrade as much as expected. It's the sheer consistency in not wearing the tyres or achieving minimal wear over many many laps in a row that gets into the territory we saw with Charles in Suzuka.
However doing this in practice is difficult. The driver's personal setup and the way they drive plays a massive role. So in Suzuka for Charles to pull that off he essentially had to make zero mistakes when it came to slippage on the corners (and he was almost perfect minus that one slip we all saw onto the curb) If he'd made any consistent mistakes that would have added to the wear on the tyres and he wouldn't have been able to last anywhere near as long.
I will say that because a driver doesn't do this it doesn't mean they are doing something wrong. Most drivers operate under the expectation that the tyres will degrade at a predictable rate.
This is a phenomenon that also would not be possible every race, or at every track etc. Conditions do also have to be right. This will probably be impossible in say Qatar, the heat will just be too great for this to come up there.
It's very situation and skill dependent. Both things must align to achieve it. Also obviously you have to have a car that is gentle on the tyres, without that kind of base it doesn't matter how good you are the tyres will still degrade. There is a reason we've only seen this in the top 2 - 4 drivers on the grid at any given time, and that is because the skill to pull it off with so few mistakes is not to be under-stated.
Tyre data would be able to help us understand this better but detailed tyre telemetry is unfortunately not made available by teams. This telemetry records the rate of wear lap to lap, tyre temperature etc. So teams get to use this data to further understand these things in their car and their driver.
I hope this helps at least a little. This is really asking about one of the cutting edge physics topics in F1 that not even some teams fully understand. And since we don't get the detailed data it's really hard to look at what the actual relationships at play are.
What we can do is look at the results we get, the lap times a car and driver generate and we can understand the car behavior that way.
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lays on my stomach and KICKS MY FEET tell me about ur saw ocs!!!!!
OOOOOOOKAAYYYYY admittedly they are not the most fleshed out but i initially made them for an english assignment in late 2020 when my saw special interest first began and now they're Here. lydia is a self-destructive and generally unpleasant petty thief flunking art school. she's constantly angry, nasty, abrasive, never has anything nice to say, she's pretty much perpetually attempted suicide again sometime within the last two weeks. she's worse than adam, at least he could chill out for a fucking moment. lydia started art school with her parents' help back when she believed her life was worth living, now she keeps her grades and attendance up just barely enough to keep living on campus for the time being while she steals from the register and collects from a card skimmer at her night shift at the convenience store. here's some extremely old art from 2020 lol ...

sebastian meanwhile is a fairly mild mannered young man working at a credit union -- he used to sweep the floors and work the front desk, but now he's a lender. for as anxious and honest as he is, his desire for approval and consistency has led to some bad behavior. he'll mislead customers about the lending process, get them started on different plans than they intended, etc, all for the sake of doing well at his job. it was his idea to be a predatory lender, but the boss doesn't care what he says or does as long as he keeps those numbers up.
lydia and sebastian's first meeting is under less than ideal circumstances. the trap is designed for only one of them to survive -- the details are fuzzy in my mind, but something is closing in, time is running out, some twisted test of their skills as thieves. sebastian ends up leaving the room when the time is up, leaving lydia trapped and screaming. this is really how she's going to die. so many attempts, so much pain and misery she had lived through, but she didn't want it to end like this.
though designed for only one person to survive, sebastian's pleas to the paramedics and police lead to lydia being found some hours later, still alive. they didn't get along very well in the few hours they knew each other, but he couldn't let another person, especially not one so much like himself, die in there.
striking up a friendship in these ... unusual circumstances is awkward but natural. college is giving lydia straight a's for the rest of the semester for what she's been through and sebastian has paid time off as they lay low from the media, quietly spending their time in physical therapy as well as a jigsaw survivor support group together. lydia cannot believe that someone could be so kind to her, could want her to keep living, and sebastian can't believe that she understands him, she is honest and sees through him and talks to Him, not what he presents to the outside world. lydia grows softer in his presence and sebastian grows stronger in hers. kisses ensue.
though they become the centers of each others worlds, recovering from This Mess is far from smooth sailing. codependency underlays their romance, entwines them like half-dead rats in a glue trap. the love is real, but above all else they stick with each other because there is nobody else. physical therapy is difficult. sebastian is blind and deaf in his left eye and ear, and lydia's right leg and pelvis were injured so badly that she's had hip surgery at age 25 and walks with a forearm crutch at all times. the emotional pain is the worst part. nightmares plague them both, paranoia seeps into every crevice of their minds, and as lydia gains a new appreciation for being alive a boiling sense of rage and injustice whirls inside of her.
she's never been very good at coping. sebastian is doing better, but only by an inch -- he relies a lot on lydia to keep him sane, checks in on her constantly and begins to live For her. some kind of fucked in the head househusband who's still the breadwinner as his parents pump cash into his account. the media appearances help, too. anyways, while sebastian dissolves into neuroticism, lydia spirals into deep hatred. she didn't deserve this. none of the other victims deserved this. most of all, her shining star, her perfect boyfriend sebastian didn't deserve it. and that jigsaw killer is still out there, he still hasn't learned his lesson ...
mandy passes her the note at a survivor support group. she starts telling seb that she's going to get another late shift job, she's a night owl after all. in the warehouse covered in grime and blood, all lydia can think about is the smell of metal and the lashing of chains and the sound of her lover screaming. as an art student, lydia is no stranger to building Contraptions. i'm serious my mom went to art school and they were fucking constantly building stuff. ok anyways she's first assigned to the blueprints, she puts together the small things and draws up her own traps, doing her best to design them non-lethally without arousing suspicion. inevitably, people end up dying in her designs. the first few times she is asked to design and then supervise a large trap, she pulls the strings to let the test subjects out as unharmed as possible. the other apprentices have a word with john and she's put back on design duty. she knows suspicion is on her, and she has to act like a good apprentice again to get closer to her goal: killing john kramer.
it's difficult to work out where all of the apprentices fit into this. i don't want amanda in much of it because they would be having evil lesbian sex all the time, but i do like the idea of her as an occasional presence in the background. i think it would serve better if she were out of the picture sometime before john is, but i think it's ok if mark is there. i like the dramatic imagery of him boarding a plane to south america by the very end, the music swells and we see him shift his eyes nervously as he knows he's totally fucked and needs to end this Now, needs to get out and completely start a new life.
the day sebastian finds out is the day lydia finally kills john. she's been increasingly ignoring his texts at "work," been crying a lot more, all the progress made with her nightmares and her rage has totally regressed. he follows her there, his heart pounding. a terrifying crawl through the maze of a warehouse and he sees her ... she's standing over an old, frail man, hands and arms soaked in blood up to the elbows -- god, he didn't know blood could be so dark. she's crying, twisting up her face when she sees him, always grateful for his presence but terrified now of her own violence. "i did it, i saved us, i saved everyone." tears stream down her face. sebastian flinches away, knocks into a hanging chain. he doesn't know who she is. he doesn't know how much planning this has taken, how much death this has taken, what any of this means for him and lydia. all he knows is that she's scared, he's scared, he's scared of her.
i don't know where i want to go after that. horrible awful relationship goals where he cleans her up and flees with her and promises he still loves her? a moment of panic and poor judgement where one or both of them ends up dead? who knwos ......
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OCtober challenge Day 21 - Apparatus
Vittorio had recently made all the uniform changes for his Scrap Vulture Squad. Of course it was a bit unfortunate when he realized his group was only going to be a duo of two people who well... Were specifically labelled as "difficult to manage" a mist flame who didn't listen to most orders despite their rank, and a storm flame that killed anything that made a sound.
Though they'll pretend that the reason they were trusted with these two were for the fact they themselves can corral people very well... and not Xanxus choosing this out of spite for how well their conversation went.
He'd need to meet them later... But right now he needs to look over his engineering plans so he knows what kind of weapons to actually pick up for scrap and parts prioritizing them. However their plans were halted by finding a strange looking apparatus on their desk it certainly wasn't theirs and the only thing they've ever seen like it were those strange boxes the Gesso family had that turned them into beasts.
They ponder this, really the thought was terrifying. Vittorio was admittedly easily send into a panic over any real animal being close no matter the size and they've only gotten used to the animals in the varia rings, and of course Avo their vulture that they made for themself. Even if it was intensely stressful putting their trust into it. But Carnage boxes seemed... too much...
Though they'd gain nothing if they allowed that to stop them. Taking their ring and lighting it with their sunset coloured flame, Vittorio closed his eyes. Only to find on his hand a small Axolotl that shared their sunset coloured flame making up the gills an replaced the fin of the tail.
"Well aren't you a relief... I wonder who my secret admirer must be to gift me such a sweet little thing like you~ hm... Well if I am to use you... I'll call you Alba."
For those that don't know, none of my Varia OCs have future arc memories. Vittorio specifically doesn't have them thanks to being an antagonistic force due to choosing to scrap after the battle of italy which the Varia had taken to be a threat. Vittorio nearly wiped the executives and forced them to turn tail. This is the reason for their kidnapping. Which they never find out about.
Yeah ever think about all box weapons become completely into the rings except for the carnage boxes which become external as an upgrade for some reason? Seeing a box weapon in the present that's actually an animal would be intensely odd so that's always an interesting thing to have to keep in mind for OC making.
Vittorio made his own ring and ring animal(as well as a cambio forma) before this after getting data about the vongola rings. Of course he did this initially in secret as he was still being held against his will and got the data by promising to upgrade the Varia rings. which he did. This one however is a gift from a Varia executive more as a congratulations for getting as far as he did.
I don't know if it is obvious as to who would have done this or not, but it is supposed to be a little shocking. Anyway yes Vittorio's two subordinates are Nascosta and Silenziatore. He's got his work cut out for him. They were actually initially created just for that but then a looooot ended up expanded upon because: oopsie. You know how it is with ocs.
The scrap team members all have uniforms kind of similar in design though the default one is supposed to have sleeves. It's just vittorio has tattoos in the future so he wants to show them off. Plus he, at least to the varia, being a safety nut, made sure to make a separate set of combat gear for him and his two. The only other thing that is consistent in these uniforms though is the deep black colour, the deep red internal, and the size of the fluff being much bigger than regular varia uniform to signify the vulture feathers around the neck.
The rest such as the colour of the metallic triangles and feathers change tint based on flame colour. Vittorio's being orange and blue due to the rain sky mix he is. Every other part of the uniform can be altered added to or whatever the person desires.
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@espilver-week asks: 💜🤍💜🤍
Since you've written so many fics and would occasionally read other's as well, is there any dynamic you like or wish to see more in Espilver/Silvespio fanfics?
Hello ^-^
Hmm, that's a difficult question... I can't really think of anything from the top of my head, haha. So far, I quite like the dynamics of all the fics I've read! (Which, admittedly, isn't a lot. I'm terrible at reading other people's fics, I must be honest😅) I do think there is many different dynamics that fit the two characters, specifically based on how I imagine Silver's life has been up to the point when he went to the past. In New Beginnings, he's very wary and socially unknowing due to growing up in a ruined future fraught with danger: here Espio fills the role of someone soothing and caring. Whereas in New New Beginnings (title still pending lol), Silver grew up in an utopian world wherein nobody believed him when he indicated Eggman Nega would spell out trouble: he's got an entirely different history and thus he acts differently as well, though I am trying to keep his base personality traits consistent. In that fic, Espio isn't so much someone who's trying to introduce Silver to a happy new world, as someone who is trying to help Silver heal from his workaholic attitude and painful past experiences with other, overly-idealistic people. It does make me wonder how Espio's behaviours and actions can be changed based on his own past experiences, as I theorise less about that in my own fics. But I think it would be nice to have Silver be the person who's being a main help to Espio, instead of the other way around.
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@mystsins asked: " how does it feel? " Fuji inquires, all while she settles down in soft, fluffy evening clothes. Couch cushions sinking under her weight. she was quite cold from the chilly draft wandering throughout their home, which says plenty despite her undead state. Such is the cons to a house as old and ... vintage as one can call it. But it was a style she's come to adore, " to finally have a place to return to. " She adds, albeit hesitantly, as if deep down she feels that Jericho would somehow come to regret it. Regret them. " I'd imagine it's not ... easy. most prefer to keep away from change. "
Her question hangs heavy in the air between them. Not an odd one, coming from Fuji but.. it doesn't catch him by surprise. It's got him wondering if perhaps he's done something to prompt her concern. Or if maybe she's just getting back in her own head, worried he may leave without a word. He's scared her before with that, habits he'd struggled to break for a time. Maybe though... just maybe, it is asked out of genuine curiosity- a desire to know.
Words aren't really able to express how it feels, not fully. He hasn't had a proper home in years, always on the go. And the trauma associated with something like 'home' had been... difficult to move on from.
Until of course, he'd met Fuji.
He's grateful they took it as slow as they did. Allowed him to ease into something steady, and consistent. It gave his life balance, where for the longest time it was just teetering on the line of disorder and chaos. Grief wracks him still, though it's gotten easier to contain it. To hold it. Emotional wounds have scarred over, never healed, but no longer unbearable and all consuming. Jericho believes she is in part to thank for it- for a great many things actually. For this home, for his happiness, for another chance with his daughter. ( He should have taken those steps himself. But how could he, when he didn't even know if she'd recognized him ? )
" Change can be good... " he says finally, after watching her for a moment. Then it is with a thoughtful hum, a note from deep within him, that he moves to take a seat on the same couch. " It feels good. The sorta change you gave me. " he's admittedly never been great with words- not like this. But he knows she will appreciate it best if he speaks from his heart.
" I've never been happier. " he finally answers the question. and it's true. Yes, he was happy before all this. But there is something about it, about the joy he feels now. After he's lost everything, and found something despite the odds. Gaining back all that, after years of nothing... " Being able to come back, to know yer waitin' fer me here, knowin' I have a home. A place I feel safe, and protected, where I don't have t'worry if someone or some- thing is gonna get me... " Jericho wishes he could just project his emotions, and thoughts. That she could feel what he feels.
" It's everything to me. You're... everything to me. "
unprompted
#𝟎𝟑. / asks#𝐃𝐘𝐍. / fujihill. ( mystsins )#verse tbt.#ohhhh fujihill my beloved...#im soooo auurghhgkjghdjgh
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He was always so nice to him. Lawrence didn't have to be, he didn't have to hold Ren on an equal level. Right in his lap fell a being that fit the description of what he needed perfectly. A toy-like creature he could take out and put away at will. A creature to make food for him so he didn't have to go out. Take care of the chores. To give him attention, attention of any kind, any way he'd like it. An animal used to pain, used to cruelty, used to keeping quiet and to himself. An animal used to giving, and giving, and giving, and being happy to do so. A mind so weak and vulnerable now without it's big bad protector that he could have done so much more than he's already done. Really let loose. Allowed himself to dive right into him. See if his pretty orange locks are as orange as his autumn-innards.
But he doesn't. No, he is not innocent. Not by far. He's explained it to Ren, even- something he is, admittedly, still kind of thinking about. Knowing he could be sent off the rails, knowing something like that could happen again, it's hard not to be afraid. Well.. Except when he sees that. Lawrence's soft features tilting into a grin, a hushed chuckle to match.. It's nice. It's nice having a friend. A roommate. A mutually agreed upon companionship. Built on blood and gore, but friendly nonetheless. It's almost like the fox just doesn't care about the danger he's potentially in. Like he's convinced himself all over again at Lawrence would never hurt him, despite..
..Because it's fair. As, by keeping him here, Law is in the exact same position. A rabid animal that can not help itself. A predator that can only be satiated on cooked steak and shitty dime-a-dozen burgers for so long.
It's fair. It's an equal leverage. It shouldn't be, but.. They just can't help it. Circumstances out of their control have damned them to finding comfort in their harm. A little boy with stolen by waves who refused to lay, a confused young man being too trusting in a new area, somehow finding this. A mutual stance of holding themselves back.
...And complimenting each others rituals, apparently.
Ren greatly appreciated the call-back to his plentiful dishes. From there on, his mood was vibrant, and his tail consistently swayed. Little comments like that lit up his entire week. Cleaning the cupboards and cabinets wasn't difficult, just tedious. But afterwards, Ren focused on more things of the sort, making sure the nitty-gritties and tight corners are taken care of, at least for a little while. Once his wet-wipe was spent, he promptly discarded of it and sniffed around for more things. Any kind of thing. Anything he could think of, while also catching a glance at Lawrence here and there, taking such cautious care of those he cares for. Some getting misted, others getting only a small dropper, and others being left alone entirely.
He felt envious of them. The little plants. They're cute, they keep Lawrence happy, busy.. And they get showered. He's not sure why he yearned so much. The need to be babied doesn't quite fit the description.
...Ren recenters his focus. Wonder what's in between the mattress and bed-frame? More cleaning inbound. "..That's cool. I couldn't remember all of that.." Just giving back. That's all.
Special Treat
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I'd just like to say that though your work may not seem like a lot to others, to me it brightens my day. It's quite hard to find any yandere pgr sort of content, especially when it comes to the males... So to see someone finally write about it is quite refreshing, especially since you wrote something about Wanshi, who to me, also seems to lack any sort of fanfic attention really. Point is that you should keep up the good work, but make sure to take breaks if needed!💙
Yes, admittedly I think there may be more people who want to write Wanshi, but who then realize he's a little more difficult than they thought.
My first yandere fic was initially going to be a Wanshi fic, but it didn't feel right and then I got sick and just wanted some "comfort". I might return to that old Wanshi draft now though
As for breaks, I'm getting better at taking them. Tbh I'm just excited to be doing something creatively again, especially for writing which I haven't done in years so I really hope I can do this consistently through the year
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A Claire's and a Hot Topic Walk Into a Bar (They Leave Immediately Because They're Both Underage)
Summary: The new kid's all sorts of confusing, to Amitie. They're perfectly capable of a normal conversation, hell, he's even usually rather nice, if a little prone to spacing out and, incidentally, ignoring people. But he's also got a tendency to start fights, and he's always trying to goad Amitie into one. She can't understand why he's sending her all these mixed signals-
-And he just can't understand why she won't play with him.
(made for the au in this post)
Characters: Red!Sig, Amitie, Raffina, Klug, Arle Nadja(mentioned)
Warnings: Swearing, implied past bullying and manipulation, miscommunication
Word count: 3321
Amitie's not completely sure she believes Raffina when she claims that Sig's not really all that mean. She trusts her friend's judgement, of course! It's just, well, personal experience claims otherwise.
By no means does she hate him! Amitie finds it... Difficult, to really find enough anger towards any one person to hate anyone. But he sends her an awful lot of mixed messages and she feels like he's toying with her at this point.
He's plenty nice- when he feels like it. It's not like Raffina where all her insults are made either in jest or because she's trying to get her to do... whatever rivals are supposed to do. He'll be nice, and then he'll get mean, and then he'll ask her if she "wants to take this outside," and Amitie's dumb but she's not stupid. She knows he's looking for a fight.
And she'll tell him no, thanks, they can Puyo battle inside just fine, and he'll grumble because that's not the kind of fight he wanted, but he'll do it anyways. If nothing else, he calms down a little afterward whether he wins or loses, but he still seems irritated over something regardless.
Well, admittedly, she's pretty sure that's just his face. Even when he's doing something he actively enjoys he manages to look a little annoyed. So, she can't actually be too sure on that front.
Either way! Would it kill the guy to be a little consistent?
Raffina doesn't seem to see the issue. Amitie's seen them trading blows- physically, not with words or Puyo- but they seem to be on friendly terms. More than that, really. If Raffina doesn't sit with Amitie over lunch she's sitting with Sig, and if Amitie ever wants to know something about him but doesn't want to go through the hassle of asking him to face, well, Raffina will probably do just as well.
She has learned through this method many things. Primarily that despite his very... Red appearance, he's actually rather fond of the color blue. Who'd have thought?
Arle doesn't really see the problem either. Says he's just got an "interesting" way of making friends.
Yeah, interesting is certainly a word choice alright. Amitie can't see what either of them see in him.
"What's the deal with you two anyways," Raffina asks.
"He's mean! I swear, he has it out for me!"
"He's no worse than Klug."
"Yeah, but Klug's not good at it," Amitie counters. "He usually just comes off as silly."
"And Sig is?"
When they'd first met, and Amitie had come with her boundless excitement to say hi to the new kid and introduce herself to him, he'd given her a quick once-over and asked, after she'd finished talking, if she was the reincarnation of a Claire's.
As in the store, Claire's.
And wow, that should not have hurt as much as it did, but Amitie had never felt more shot down before in her life. She tells Raffina this much, and to her dismay Raffina laughs.
"I'm so sorry," she squeaks between laughter, "you're right, that's so cruel. I'm going to have to give him a stern talking to, next we meet."
Amitie groans, looking up at the sky. After a moment Raffina manages to add, "You two could be an item. Claire's and Hot Topic."
The look of complete and utter dismay Amitie shoots her sends Raffina into another giggling fit, and Amitie is so upset by her statement that she demands a Puyo battle. Raffina loses because she keeps breaking concentration and laughing again, and Amitie can no longer show her face around her for the rest of the day, she decides.
Sig's back and forth indecision over whether to be nice to Amitie or to attempt demolishing her in a fight comes to a head on a really, really bad day for Amitie. It's not uncommon for her to wake up late, but she also forgot her homework, and her lunch, and worst of all they were practicing aiming their magic. Most of the time this was generally all good fun, a break from the monotony of normal, boring schoolwork, but not today.
Not for Amitie, who was already in a pretty piss-poor mood, who can't aim for shit, and who has a gnat in her ear goading her for every shot she manages to fire 2 feet away from the intended target.
"I'm sure Glasses would let you borrow his spectacles if you asked," Sig passively throws at her before muttering "cardinal," at his own target.
Amitie huffs and doesn't answer him. She fires off another shot- how the hell did she get it to land there?
"Careful," Sig drones, "you might hit The Tower."
Amitie has to think about that one for a second, but she does come to the correct conclusion that the joke is that The Tower is quite literally opposite of where they're currently aiming. She growls under her breath this time, and tries again. She actually gets a bullseye, and she points at Sig with a "ha!"
He lets out a low whistle. "Wow," he drawls.
Amitie can't tell if it's sarcastic. Everything sounds sarcastic coming from him.
Nothing else is said between the two of them for a few more spells, but then just as Amitie casts one-
"Miss."
And miss she does. She cringes as she watches her flare only barely singe the edge of the target. She buries her face in her hands for a second, then turns to face Sig.
"What is your problem!"
"I've got a few. Like, my arm's always too warm and it's really annoying."
"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it!"
He tilts his head at her like he doesn't know, actually.
"Quit insulting me!" She demands. "You're not helping!"
"'M not supposed to be."
"Well you could at least not make it worse!"
"What're you gonna do?" He bares teeth and raises his right arm, flexing his clawed fingers at her. "You gonna cry about it?"
"I might!!"
"Oh."
He lowers his hand with a frown. "Well, maybe, you'd feel better about it. If we fought."
Amitie groans. "I'm not going to fight you! I'm not going to get detention because you're being incomprehensible!"
He stares at her.
"Incorporeal!"
She is met with further silence. She sighs, turns around, and calmly asks the classmate on the other side of her, "Klug, what's the word for when someone's being stubborn, and it starts with 'in,' and has a c and an r in it, I think?"
Klug blinks at her and thinks for a moment. "Incorrigible?"
Amitie turns back to Sig and gestures to Klug. "That!"
Sig opens his mouth.
"Shut up!" Amitie interrupts. "No! No, I'm not gonna let you walk all over me anymore! Stop talking and leave me alone!"
He lets it click shut again. They stare at each other for a tense few seconds.
And then he leaves.
Just up and walks off the school grounds entirely. Of course, Klug being Klug, he shouts after Sig, and when the other doesn't turn around he tells Ms. Accord he's gone off to who knows where. She says she'll take care of it, and Amitie doesn't see him for the rest of the day.
Or the next.
He does come the day after that, and he very resolutely does not talk to her. Refuses to look in her direction, even. Amitie doesn't say anything to him either, except for some reason his silence is giving her anxiety. Maybe he's just trying to give her space after her outburst.
A lot of it.
Multiple days' worth.
Okay. Okay now she's definitely more than a little bit anxious.
She knows, realistically, she should be overjoyed! He's finally leaving her alone! But those few times that she manages to catch his eye he's quick to look away and he always looks...
Sad. Dejected? She's not sure. It's hard to read his expression on a good day, let alone when he's clearly having a bad one. Or, many. But he sure doesn't look like his normal, slightly-annoyed-by-everything self.
She's watching him eat from the far side of the school grounds, which is probably really weird and she'd be super embarrassed if he caught her, but she can't help it.
"You'd think you're worried about him or something," Raffina points out, checking out her nails in faux-disinterest.
"Is he okay?" Amitie blurts out.
Raffina snorts, lowering her hand and bringing her gaze to Amitie's. "No."
Amitie watches him flump forward onto the dirt. Now the only thing she can really see of him is a mass of varying shades of red and two little horns poking out from it. She frowns.
"I mean- I know I was a little harsh," Amitie mumbles sheepishly, and Raffina looks at her like harsh isn't the word she'd use but she remains quiet, "but it wasn't that bad, right?"
Raffina sighs, turning her eyes toward the sky. "Normally, I'd say it couldn't even be considered bad in the first place. But for him, it was bad enough."
"You'd think someone as nonchalant as he is wouldn't be bothered by it..." Amitie grumbles.
"Yes, well, from you, it meant something."
"Why?"
Raffina blinks and goes quiet. "I think... Perhaps that's something you should ask him yourself."
Amitie looks a little horrified at the idea but she knows if Raffina won't tell her the first time she's not going to spill at all, unless maybe she bribes her. She swallows, and resolutely stands up. Right. Okay. She's going to figure this out one way, or another. And by that, she means only one way, actually.
Sig has found that fighting someone is one of the best ways to get to know them.
That's what the kids at his old school would tell him, anyways, and they were right. After his right arm and eye had turned red and he'd started inexplicably growing horns under his mess of hair, he'd gotten a lot more friends.
A lot more bruises, too. A broken nose, once.
They were a little on the aggressive side, sure, but he'd found that at some point he'd started matching them in temperament. He's not sure when that happened.
He's not sure why his parents decided to move him to a different school, either. He'd spent so long without any friends and of course, it's only when people actually start playing with him that his parents decide to move. Go figure, huh.
But he's got new friends here, at Primp. Not as many, and they act a little differently, but they're friends regardless.
Raffina was very, very easy to make friends with. He knows a lot about her. She's confident, practiced, she knows what she's doing- it's not the kind of practice where she learned everything on the fly and has been working on it since, like Sig, it's the kind that's purposeful.
She's also hotheaded, though, and prone to making more mistakes if she thinks she's losing. This carries through most of the things she does, her competitiveness a constant in her personality.
Arle's another one he made pretty quick friends with. She's a little on the looser side, more in it for the fun than the glory. But sometimes, when she's cornered, she's like a wild animal. Unpredictable. Violent. She's been in tight spots before, and it's clear how she got out of them.
(She apologized for the burn on his arm, and he waved her off and said if it was anything like the others it'd go away within the day. She didn't ask what that meant.)
He tried to be friends with Klug. He seems fun. Unfortunately, while Sig had managed to convince him to take an argument to the back of the school, when he lifted his fist to throw the first punch Klug flinched and screamed and curled up on the ground.
It wasn't even his right hand. He was using his normal human one to test the waters. Unfortunately, it seems these particular waters have the depth of a puddle. Shame.
Amitie, though. He can't understand Amitie. He's not very good at reading people as it is, but she's sending him so many mixed signals and he can't seem to interpret them correctly. She follows through with the lead up just fine, huffing and puffing the whole way through, but then he tries to actually play with her and she always refuses, and she's absolutely unbending in this decision. She'll Puyo battle with him, but it's not quite the same.
He guesses he's learned some things about her that way. She's smarter than she acts, and than other people tend to make her out to be. She's just smart in a very particular area. But she's prone to picking at her own mistakes. She notices one, and the entire thing breaks down.
And, yeah, that's pretty significant. But he bets he'd learn more if she really fought him. She was the first person to really approach him, to say hi rather than lean over to her friends and ask "what's wrong with his arm?" Of course he'd want to get to know her.
"You could always just tell her you want to be friends," Raffina'd suggested to him. "That might be, I don't know, easier?"
And yeah, he could. But that's not being close. That's just saying "let's be friends." That's not genuine- there's something different, something vulnerable about biting without bark. Bits and pieces of the other person bleed through. He wonders what Raffina and Arle see, when they play with him.
The way they play feels different from the way his friends at his old school do. They're not gentler on him, necessarily, but it hurts way less. He wants to know if Amitie is the same.
But he could never tell if she felt that way too.
Guess he has his answer now.
He's laying in the grass and watching ants crawl towards the food he'd lain down for them. He couldn't stomach it. Why waste it when he could feed a colony for days.
He hears someone approach, but he doesn't bother looking up. They stop not even a full foot behind him, and seem to shift a little awkwardly.
"... Sig?"
He looks up to glare at Amitie (he doesn't even mean to glare, that's just how he looks), but it doesn't last long. He decides craning his neck over his shoulder like that is too much work, so he lets it drop back onto the grass and tracks an ant grabbing a crumb of his lain down food.
"Sig," she tries again, slowly sitting down next to him. He huffs, flipping over on his side to face her all the way. Despite this, he still doesn't really look at her. She fidgets, trying to figure out what to say, and then settles for, "Are you... Okay...?"
He looks up at her with a look she can't really decipher, and this time she's the one directing her gaze away. "Um. Yeah. I guess that's kind of a dumb question," she laughs nervously. She looks down at him again. "But, um, could I ask what it is? That's bothering you, I mean."
He lets the question permeate a little and then responds, "Why would you tell me to leave you alone if you were just gonna come over n' talk to me yourself."
"So it is that," Amitie mumbles. Sig brings his focus to the grass. Wow. It sure is green, down here.
"Why would that bother you, though?" She asks, and when he stays silent she continues, "I mean, you're all! Bitey, and snappy and bored by everything all the time, and I know I should probably be glad you're not talking to me anymore," she watches his expression change again, and this time she can take a guess at what it is.
Hurt. She cringes at the thought.
She takes a breath and keeps going. "But now you're being all weird about it so what-" she furrows her brows, watching him curl his fingers into a fist and pull out a few blades of grass. "What changed?"
"Nothing," he responds, honestly. "Nothing changed. You just..." His eyes unfocus and his tone goes distant, "You just never want to play with me."
Wah-huh?
"I never what?"
"You never play with me," he repeats. "You act like you might, maybe, but whenever I ask you to you always say no."
"Wait wait wait, back up. Fighting... Is playing to you?"
His attention snaps back to her. "Is it not for you?"
"No! No," Amitie denies, "I mean, Puyo battles are totally normal, but fighting? Why would you want to do that?"
He rolls onto his back, staring up at the sky. "Wanna be close to you."
WAH-HUH x2?
"I want to get to know you," he admits, closing his eyes, "I've never been good at talking. It's easier to understand a fight."
Amitie's not completely sure she really gets that feeling. She doesn't really know how fighting someone would help you understand them better.
"But, I mean, I get it," Sig murmers, keeping his eyes shut. "I get it if you don't wanna be friends with me. Freak, n' all."
"NononoNONONO!" Amitie exclaims, quieting down when Sig looks up at her with a squint. "That's not it. It's not- I don't- I thought you hated me!"
He scowls at her, which very much contradicts his next statement of, "I don't hate you."
She chooses to believe his words, instead of his face. "So, then, you- you were just-!"
She buries her face into her hands and screams. "Ohhhhhh my god. Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"
Sig sits up in a lackadaisical manner, but he keeps his attention on her.
"This entire time I thought you were just being a, a uh," she snaps her fingers a few times. "What's a word Arle would use?"
"Asshole."
"An asshole!" She nods. "But that's just how you play? You were trying to play with me? Because you wanted to be friends?!"
He blinks at her. "Yeah," he responds. He sounds irritated, but Amitie chooses to ignore it.
"Ohhhhhh nooooo," she whines, and now she's the one laying on her back. "I'm sorry! Oh my god, and I hurt you! You just wanted to be friends, and I hurt you!"
"'S fine," he mutters, "You didn't know. Sorry for... Not communicating. Or whatever."
Amitie grumbles about how that's probably not a healthy way to form relationships and they should discuss this later. She sits up and gives him an awkward smile. "Can we start over? Please?"
Sig tilts his head at her. "Uh. Sure?"
Her smile brightens and she excitedly throws her hand out. "Hiya! My name's Amitie I heard we were getting a new kid are you the new kid? You look like the new kid I've never seen you before you look super cool is your hair dyed or is it just like that sorry I'm talking so much I should let you go huh so what's your name?"
Wow. Did she seriously memorize that entire run-off? He looks her up and down, then smirks. "Are you the reincarnation of a Claire's?"
She punches his shoulder with a disbelieving laugh and an indignant "Sig!" then responds, "No, but I get my earrings from there!"
Further off, Raffina watches the two laugh with a feeling of relief. Finally, that's one headache removed.
Unfortunately for her she pretty soon realizes that this would merely cause a different headache to later form. But it's better than Amitie complaining about Sig's hot and cold demeanor, and Sig moping about how Amitie, who definitely wants to be friends with him, doesn't want to be friends with him. Honestly, as long as they're not going back to that? Raffina thinks she can deal with this particular headache.
#puyo puyo#fanfic#sig puyo puyo#amitie puyo puyo#raffina puyo puyo#klug#arle nadja#Cherry's the Favorite (Cause Blue Raspberry is Fake as Hell)#< That's the tag I'm using for my version of this au#long? yes#but it won't get mixed up with anything
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You are a blessing, Kettie.
After finding out her mother had lied to her for the better part of twelve years, a compliment like that was nice to hear. Especially when it came from the man who’d been half the equation in procreating her — as weird as it was to look at it that way. He might not have been what she was expecting, but he came with books and pizza, so it was a start. For now, he had the Keturah Strong stamp of approval.
“I like horses very much!” She declared, “Mary says that Clydesdale are the best, but everyone knows that it’s the thoroughbreds take the cake. They’re the fastest.”
Try as she might to picture Benjamin fencing, she couldn’t seem to manage it, so with a skeptical squint, she added, “Maybe you can teach me to fence, then?” Here, however, her grin began to fade, “Assuming mom lets me come around again…she seemed really mad on the phone.”
If that were the case, Keturah would have to find a way to make it back here. Knowing what she knew now, she needed the opportunity to get to know her biological father, and her mother’s stubbornness wasn’t going to stop her from making that happen.
For the next couple of hours, long after the pizza was finished, Keturah talked about the various things she liked. Being as intelligent as she was, her hobbies tended to vary. She’d become obsessed with something for stints of time, get very good at it, then move on to something else that could hold her amusement. So far, that list had consisted of the violin, the clarinet, ballet, softball, crocheting, hockey, and dance lessons. In school she’d been apart of a myriad of clubs like math, chess, history, physics, art, music, and decathlon.
She liked animals, space, baking, and medieval stories of knights. She talked about wishing she could go to a private school instead of public because their curriculum was supposed to be more challenging, but Anna had insisted she have a more normal upbringing. Her reading and arithmetic were higher levels for her age and sometimes she had trouble relating to other kids because she felt like she couldn’t talk to them without getting bored. When her cousins were over, she preferred hanging out with the older pair rather than those closer to her age. Lastly, she told him she liked poetry and would even try to write her own in her diary, which he wasn’t allowed to see because it was top secret. Highly confidential. Authorized personnel only. The only authorized personnel being her.
At some point, Keturah nodded off, her head slowly slipping from the support of her hand to the arm of the couch. She really hadn’t slept much the night before after finding out the big secret and had gotten up extra early to plan her scheme to travel to Connecticut without Anna knowing, so it all added up to a pretty exhausting day. A flash flood probably couldn’t wake her now, which was why she didn’t stir when here was a prompt knock on the door.
————
The entire drive there, her skin was prickled and her stomach churned with dread. Neither Keturah nor Ben were ever supposed to find out the truth about Keturah’s parentage. It was simply too much of a mess caused by a misstep Anna had made years ago. Selah was Keturah’s father. That had been that, or so she’d told herself to justify keeping it all a secret, one she’d intended to take to her grave. But the cat was out of the bag and Anna knew she was going to be forced to face the music on this one. No doubt Ben was livid, so she admittedly wasn’t sure what to expect when she got there.
Finally standing on his front porch, she took a deep breath and knocked firmly, hoping that he wouldn’t make all this more difficult than it needed to be. Of course, knowing him, he would absolutely do that.
When the door opened and their eyes met, she stared a moment, wide eyed and surprised that seeing him here in person had made her chest flutter. She could still remember the weekend they’d shared together, the plans and the promises they’d started to make before Selah had shown up and not only wanted her back, but proposed. Her stomach flipped again.
“Where is she?” She asked, wishing Keturah had been ready to go without question. That, naturally, was too much to ask.
Upon glancing over Ben’s shoulder to find her daughter crashed on the couch, she sighed and said, “Can we talk outside? I don’t want her to hear any of this.”
“How could I have been wanted if you didn’t know?” Keturah challenged, her voice soft and forlorn. “You want kids, but you probably didn’t want kids like this.”
Ben winced. "It's not...orthodox, no, but I would never turn my back on having a child in this way. The fact of the matter is, you are a blessing, Kettie. I was starting to lose hope that I would ever...I-I mean..." Awkwardly, he waved his hands. "In this day and age, the art of conversation and companionship is a bit blurred, so I was under the impression that it might never happen."
Keturah pursed her mouth, appearing skeptical, before she turned back to grab Gulliver’s Travels off the shelf. “You could read to me? Gotta pass the time somehow.”
Ben brightened, his heart fluttering with fond delight. "I would be honored," he said. Although he'd read to very young children over the years, this would be his very first time reading to one of his own -- his very daughter -- and the idea thrilled him.
Taking the book with a grin, he moved to open it when she prodded, “You mentioned pizza? I’m actually pretty hungry…”
He heard her stomach growl in near agony, and with a soft chuckle, Ben set aside the book and promised, "Yeah, uh...wait here, all right? It won't take long at all."

After slipping into the kitchen, he set to work on putting a few slices into his air fryer -- every bachelor needed one of these -- before he nearly jumped when Keturah was suddenly behind him.
“What kind of pizza is it?" she asked. "Does it have olives and mushrooms? Cuz I like those.”
Ben laughed, grateful that the swear word on the tip of his tongue hadn't slipped free. "It's an everything pizza," he agreed. "The kind with vegetables and pepperoni...so yes, there are mushrooms and olives." He squinted at her with a lopsided smile. "Your mother never liked mushrooms. She told me it gives ghastly breath -- and gas -- which your Uncle Brewster certainly loved to prove correct."
Caleb wasn't truly Keturah's uncle, but he was so beloved that he became known as everyone's relation in some form.
Nodding to the air fryer, he assured her, "It'll be done in a few minutes. It's already cooked, so I'm just ensuring it's not some soggy, floppy mess."
Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. "So, uh...aside from olives and mushrooms, what else do you like? I'm a teacher -- as you know -- but I specialize in history, and I also enjoy fencing, and I used to ride horses when my father and I lived on a farm. Do you like horses?"
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No thoughts head empty except chuuya condescendingly calling you princess while railing you so hard you see stars—
mannn. rough chuuya has y'all by the tiddies, huh?😭 this is seriously such a hot concept, though!! frothing at the mouth rn i REALLY didn’t mean to make it any longer than a couple paragraphs😭 but then shit happened in my brain and yeah so here!! this was also rushed so i apologize in advance for any mistakes you may find.
contains: penetrative sex, rough sex, degrading, use of names (dear, slut, cockwhore, princess), cunnilingus
in truth, chuuya knows you a lot better than you realize he does. he may be temperamental and hotheaded, but he’s also been around you long enough to notice certain things about you—namely, how you intentionally fan the dominant, intense fire that dwells within him in order to earn yourself some rough sex. at first, he hadn’t realized your goal and had fallen prey to your bratty antics every single time you provoked him. whether it was by flashing him glimpses your bare cunt in a tiny, little skirt when no one was paying attention, perching yourself on his thigh and letting him feel the arousal soaking into his pant leg, teasing him for his stature, or even blatantly ignoring him when he spoke to you, the night always concluded with you receiving a rough pounding from your short-tempered boyfriend.
however, after a while, chuuya started to notice some consistency in your behavior. he took note of the ecstatic glint in your eye whenever he cornered you in an abandoned hallway, eyes dark and voice low as he warned you about the consequences of acting out; the way your cunt fluttered around nothing when he straddled your waist, ruthlessly pressed his thumb down on your tongue, and sneered at you for being so cozy with dazai; the way your arousal dripped all over his wrist when he taunted you about enhancing your punishment for “ignoring” him, knowing damn well that you couldn’t speak even if you’d wanted to, courtesy of the rough pace he’d set with his fingers. all this evidence pointed toward the idea that you preferred him to be rough with you, which, admittedly, threw chuuya for a loop since he favored romance and sensuality when it came to you.
still, he’s never been one to shy away from a challenge, so he decided to indulge your desires more often. the only issue is, now that he knows what you’re aiming for, he’s no longer fueled by the same anger that had swelled in his chest and seared his tongue as he yanked you around and spat in your face about you behaving like a two-bit slut or a braindead cockwhore who only thinks with her pussy. that being said, he finds it more difficult to degrade you, so, he makes some compromises.
“you fuckin’ kidding me?” chuuya huffs out a snide laugh, punctuating his remark with a harsh slap of his balls against your ass that has you twitching, keening, whining in his hold. “did i hear you right?” his grip tightens on your wrists until it’s nearly painful. he continues to drill into you, timing every unforgiving thrust into your cunt with each tug on your arms to work you back onto his cock. your head lolls forward limply, your torso bows feebly toward the mattress, and your exhausted thighs quiver with the effort of keeping yourself propped up on your knees, lest you accidentally sink back on chuuya’s cock hard enough to send you careening over the edge of overstimulation. your eyes are already glassy, and you can barely even process his words, let alone respond. not that it matters, anyway. you know that chuuya isn’t expecting an answer from you—at least, not right now. “too much? that what you said? that’s fucking funny.” he lashes. “that’s not what you were saying earlier. you remember, don’t you? because, i sure as hell do. you begged me for this. you begged me to fuck you. isn’t that right, princess?”
the misplaced term of endearment shoots straight to your core, eliciting a tiny whimper from you that has chuuya’s eyes lighting up with success. he’d been waiting for this—for confirmation that his plan to speak more condescendingly through tone rather than words would be enough to satiate you. and, now that he’s received it, he isn’t going to be relenting anytime soon, especially since he, too, derives pleasure from it.
“aw, hey, you liked that, didn’t you?” a knowing smirk crosses chuuya’s lips. “fitting, isn’t it?” he grits his teeth and releases your wrists, allowing you to collapse onto the mattress and bury your face into the rumpled duvet. he watches as your back melts into a ravishing arch, your fingers flexing and curling into the thick material. “ass up, baby,” chuuya grunts, watching with a glimmer of pride as you obediently, wordlessly shuffle your knees underneath you to prop your ass high enough to satisfy his request. “atta girl,” he smooths a hand over your hip, “so, you can follow instructions. spent all damn day acting like a brat just because you wanted some dick, huh?” he scoffs. “but, i guess it really was all you needed, though, wasn’t it? just needed to be bent over and fucked for you to act right.“
his lips tilt into a devious grin. “but, don’t worry, dear. the night is far from over.”
#bsd smut#bungou stray dogs smut#nakahara chuuya smut#chuuya smut#chuuya nakahara smut#🍬arba’s aphrodisiacs🍬#🍬arba’s got mail🍬#[candlelight.reverie] <3#$bsd.unfiltered
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Actually I feel a bit sorry for Matt after his interview for HOTD. He tries so hard to add depth to the character and keep Daemon truer to the source. That's what R. Condall lacks: consistency and loyalty to the core of the canon. DW exists for almost 60 years, all details can change, fans can hate rewrites and new settings/history but the Doctor stays the Doctor. The showrunners can change the letter but keep the spirit of the show.
I love these asks! Thank you anon! I can't believe people actually want to know what I think! It's bananas.
Firstly, which interview specifically? Since I don't know which one I'm just going to answer in blanket terms.
Secondly, you are so kind and compassionate. I think Matt does more than tries, I think he succeeds. As of August 2022, Matt has not read Fire and Blood. (Interview here.) I can hear the collective gasp from fans across the world! (I don't have that many followers. LoL) Here's what he said:
[...] he also hasn't read Fire & Blood, the book the series is adapting. "Not in its entirety," the actor replied when asked if he'd read the source material. "It's a big fucking book."
So I guess there may be a need for my post about why actors' input isn't considered relevant or reliable in some critical film theory, huh? I've started it but now I'll have to finish it.
I'm not going to defend or criticize Condall in this answer. Matt is admittedly a fan of Game of Thrones (the tv series, you can find that with a google search) but that doesn't necessarily inform him of canon as anon mentioned above. I think, much like auteur film theory giving too much credit to the director, fans give too much credit to most actors. This is the actors' job, and most seem to love it, but it is work. Put yourself in their shoes for just a moment: you audition, you land the role, the read-throughs start, and the next 6-10 months are a blur of memorizing lines and costume fittings, distant set locations, and then non-stop press junkets and premieres. At what point in that is it reasonable for fans to expect the actor to know canon. So I'm going to extend your compassion, anon, and apply it to the entire cast as well.
The show runners... that's a different story. It is their job to know canon. But, and this is important, it is also their job to choose to ignore it or not. That is a very difficult job when you have such a monumental fan base as ASOIAF or DW.
I don't know if anon is a long time Whovian or new to the series but perhaps they will remember the absolute hate Steven Moffatt received when he began writing for DW. People were livid with the way he changed canon. I love his writing for Sherlock as well but I really enjoyed when he completely destroyed DW Weeping Angels canon and some people are still mad about this. Until Moffatt the Angels never moved when the camera was on them (as if the viewer were watching them/camera lens as eye) but he removed that aspect of canon and showed them move on screen (only slightly but people got angry because DW). I think it was a brilliant move to distance the audience but that's all I'll say about it here. I use this example to point out that "ignoring canon" is a phrase that is used a lot in fandoms... and is based on an unreasonable standard when one thinks that we give so much time to these fandoms and these creators have lives as well. There are choices that are made along the way in any series that will not sit well with fans. It's a risk they have to take.
Humans have short memories. We forget that "the doctor stays the doctor" is a feeling that comes back only after a few episodes into a new regeneration. When the announcement is made that our Doctor is leaving, when the new casting is announced, when the regeneration episode is aired, when the grieving is at its hardest, the Doctor will never be the same, it just won't be the Doctor. And then, before we know it, the Doctor is the Doctor again.
As for Condall.... maybe I really do need to write an essay on contextual formalism and why what creators say is ultimately not as important as the final art object. People might not like that statement but it's one of many art/film theories so if you think that the creator/artist has the final word on the art object take an art history class or a film studies class and you'll learn how rarely most of them achieve what they intended, for good or bad.
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Not sure if you write about this character but what do you think it would be like to date Max Parrish? And do you have any headcanons about him? I just think he’s hot, funny, and I love his manic himbo vibes 😅
This guy!?
― I think Max Parrish comes off as goofy, hyperactive, loud and sometimes even obnoxious, but it is really him hiding a much deeper personal pain beneath all this silliness and energy. He is in near constant pain due to his back injury which he kills and temporarily subdues with pills, leading to an addiction he has (a fact about him he doesn't even particularly hide, actually, he might just joke about that too) and there is something to be said that he just overcompensates the consistency of the physical hurt with a barrage of humor and he might just come off as unbearable and difficult to keep up with during dates (and in general), which really involves one mishap and misadventure after the other, but truth is, Max deliberately wants to clown around for you to conceal that he isn't really doing well as he might seem to be doing. And, well, to make you laugh too, yes.
― He is very funny, admittedly. Self-deprecating? Maybe. Teasing towards you? Undoubtedly? Sarcastic? Yes. Taunting? Yes. Mocking at times, of himself and everyone else, yes too. But, he is a proponent of the idea that if you make people laugh enough they'll find you more attractive and they'll giggle and giggle and giggle until their clothes automatically come off? Yes he is. Max Parrish most seriously vows this has happened to him several times but he never really clarifies if he was on the receiving end of such a seduction or if he was the one seducing --- maybe both. Maybe it never happened at all. But, namely, a lot of his stories can honestly be entirely made up for the sake of humor and in an attempt to amuse you or evoke a reaction (any reaction, even one of frustration), all while some are very really and funny precisely because they are real. Either ways, laughter's a plenty.
― Dates with him, of course, aren't ever dates in the classical sense. Ever had a date while speeding through traffic and him speed-dating being romantic? How about when he busts into your apartment and practically invites himself on a date with a champagne bottle he's got from goodness knows where? While patching up his wounds? Hey, gotta grab the moment, right? A lot of the rendezvous with him can inherently be chaotic, unexpected and they just happen in random intervals of spontaneity. Really, for all Max is concerned spending time with him in general constitutes a date even when you don't realize so yourself. You might just be taking to him in his car and having a commonplace chat and that already counts as a date to him. If you make a habit of this, little do you realize you've already been out with him several times, which he brings up with much personal gusto:
-"My, we're practically married when you really think about it."-
-"You can be my number seven! Eight! Don't even remember."-
― He is a pervert, he is inappropriate, he is flirtatious, he is giddy and carefree even when the situation doesn't call for it (especially then) he loves to push your buttons and he'd really be the type to prefer to argue with you all day than ever be ignored by you, even for a mere second. He has had his share of relationships, or so he says, but there's a sense that he is to be believed with how much he gets attached and how much he needs to be in your space and sphere by any means necessary even if it means irking you into allowing him to get under your skin. There is no telling what he'd do to be noticed by you. Would he practically crash a bulldozer into your backyard in order to ever avoid being ignored. Yes, he literally and entirely non-ironically would. Makes him forget the pain for a moment, and it makes him ensure to himself that you in turn never forget him.
― But, what does Max Parrish want from you, fundamentally? What are his plans? Well, he said it himself rather bluntly when he was interrogated. White picked fence, beautiful spouse, couple of kids. Thing is, he conveys a lot of truth about himself exclusively through jokes as his prime way of communicating, without being tremendously serious about on the surface (oh, but it is very serious) and it is really no joke that he is actually extremely familial, but the crucks of his work environment, his heart and expectations being smashed several times (landing him to cope through comedy) and his injury prevented him from a lot of things he always dreamed of having. Little do you realize you might just very well be kidnapped into having a shotgun wedding once he impromptu pulls up in front of a chapel and just does it with you. His justification? Hey, you seduced him into doing this by being so very funny yourself.
-"Don't wanna giggle myself out of my pants without this being legal first."-
Max jokes.
#max parrish#hollow point#hollow point 1996#max parrish x reader#max parrish x beloved#max parrish headcanon#max parrish headcanons
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