#how am i supposed to just sleep after this

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤALIEN GIRLㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Yandere Mark Grayson x Fem Qu Reader Part 3

☆⁠ HEADCANON : You were pregnant... And your pregnancy wasn't normal... Especially not something that mark expected...

☆⁠ NOTES : Qu is an alien species from the book All Tomorrows. You can learn more about her here. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Mark started noticing things.

It began with small stuff.

Shiny things went missing—coins, keys, a silver spoon, even his mom’s earrings (which somehow ended up under his bed).

Then there was the soft stuff. His hoodies, pillows, blankets—all gone.

And the food. Fruits he’d never seen before piled up in the corner of his room, untouched but somehow... perfectly fresh.

Mark was so confused.

At first, he thought you were just being weird. Because let’s be honest—you weren’t exactly normal. But then he caught you sitting in a pile of stolen goods, legs tucked beneath you, nesting.

That was when he finally asked:

"...What are you doing?"

You blinked up at him, tilting your head, hair cascading around you like a shimmering cloak.

"For baby," you said simply. Then, after a pause, you added: "Babies."

Mark froze.

"...What."

You pointed at your stomach with a serene smile. "Baby. Nest good for baby."

Mark’s heart stopped.

"WHAT???"

Mark. Freaks. Out.

You tilted your head, confused. "What?" Mark panicked. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN BABIES—PLURAL?!" You just shrugged. "Baby." You patted your stomach. "Yours." He felt his soul leave his body.

Mark didn't know how to handle this.

He immediately ran to his mom.

"Mom," he gasped, stumbling into the kitchen like he’d just seen a ghost. "She—she said she’s pregnant."

Debbie paused mid-dishwashing. "What?"

"She’s making a nest! She’s collecting stuff! She said babies!" Mark ran a hand through his hair. "Mom, what the fuck!"

Debbie dried her hands calmly. "Did you use protection?"

Mark gawked at her. "I didn’t think I needed to! She’s an alien!"

Debbie exhaled sharply. "Well, apparently, she’s an alien that can get pregnant."

Mark groaned, collapsing onto the couch. "Oh my God. I’m not ready to be a dad."

"Well," Debbie muttered, completely unbothered. "You should’ve thought about that before sleeping with her."

Mark let out a miserable groan.

Now that you were pregnant, your eating habits changed.

You ate. So. Much.

Especially meat.

Mark stared, horrified, as you tore into a raw steak, completely unbothered. "You know... we usually cook that."

You blinked at him, mouth full of blood. "...Why?"

Mark swallowed. "Because it's gross eating it raw?"

You just tilted your head. "But taste good."

Mark watched in silence as you continued devouring the steak.

You also developed a sweet tooth.

Cookies? Gone.

Ice cream? Destroyed.

Syrup? You drank it straight from the bottle.

He had to physically pry it out of your hands.

Mark learned that you were serious about the nest.

You dragged his hoodies into a corner of his room. You hoarded pillows, blankets, even his mattress.

Mark woke up on the floor.

"You kicked me out of my own bed!" he groaned.

You blinked sleepily. "Nest not for you. Nest for baby."

Mark sighed, rubbing his face.

"...Where am I supposed to sleep?"

You thought about it for a second, then patted your lap.

Mark stared. "...I am not sleeping on your lap."

You shrugged, curling up in the nest. "Then floor."

Mark let out a strangled noise.

One night, Mark found you hugging your knees, staring out the window.

He frowned. "Hey... what’s wrong?"

You stayed silent.

Mark sat beside you. "Come on. Talk to me."

You took a deep breath. "Miss... sisters."

Mark blinked. "Your sisters?"

You nodded. "We... always together. Always. Birth together. Hug under sky." Your voice grew soft. Lonely. "Now... alone."

Mark felt something tug at his chest.

You were always so strange, so terrifying, so otherworldly. It was easy to forget you could feel sadness.

Mark hesitated before wrapping an arm around you.

You looked up, surprised.

Mark forced a smile. "Well... you’re not alone anymore."

You blinked. Then, slowly, you buried your face in his chest.

"...Mark warm," you mumbled.

He chuckled, resting his chin on your head. "Yeah, yeah. I get that a lot."

"Mark," you whispered against his skin, nuzzling into his neck. "You scared?" Mark swallowed thickly. "...A little." You pulled back, blinking at him. "Why?" He exhaled. "Because you’re not human. And you’re... different." You tilted your head. "Different bad?" "...No. Just... different."

You considered that. Then, slowly, you reached out, placing his hand on your slightly rounded stomach. "Not different," you murmured. "Just... mine."

And somehow, despite everything, despite the insane, terrifying reality of his situation— Mark smiled. Because yeah. He was yours.

You were beautiful. Terrifying, yes, but his. You clung to him, kissed him randomly, slept on top of him. And God help anyone who looked at him the wrong way. One time, a girl at the store smiled at Mark. You hissed. Mark had to physically drag you away. "Can you NOT try to commit murder every time a girl breathes near me?" You pouted. "She want mate." Mark sighed. "No, she was just being polite." You narrowed your eyes. "I kill." "NO." Mark was exhausted. Not because of crime-fighting, not because of college, not even because of his dad suddenly being back in his life. No. Because of you. It started one night when Mark woke up to emptiness. You weren’t in the nest. Panic hit him immediately. He checked the kitchen. Not there. The bathroom? Nope. The ceiling? ...Also no. "Goddamn it," he muttered. Mark searched the whole house three times before he heard it—soft breathing. He turned to the darkest corner of his room. Two glowing eyes stared back at him. "Jesus—!" He nearly punched the wall. "What the hell are you doing there?!" You blinked slowly, like a cat caught doing something forbidden. "Hide." Mark exhaled, running a hand down his face. "From what?!" You shrugged. "Feel good." Mark’s eye twitched. "Get out of the shadows." "No." "Get out." "...No." Mark groaned. Debbie had seen some shit. She survived Omni-Man. She survived Viltrumites. But she was not surviving this. She walked into the kitchen one morning, and there you were—perched on the fridge like some kind of cryptid. "...What are you doing?" "Mark say no raw meat," you said blankly. "So I eat where he not see." Debbie sighed. "Please don’t tell me you’re eating it raw again." You tilted your head. "...I no tell." "...Oh my God." Nolan hated you.

He had been sitting at the table, drinking coffee, when Mark asked you something completely innocent. "So… what were you like before?" You perked up. Pregnancy made you talkative, and you loved talking to Mark. "Oh! Had harem. Many males. Many pretty. All do what I say." Mark choked on his drink.

Nolan raised an eyebrow. Debbie just stared. "Harem?..." You nodded proudly. "Yes. Male do all work. Listen to Queen. Bring food. Fight others. Make babies." Mark coughed. "Uh. What happened to them?" You tilted your head. "Eat them." Dead silence. Nolan put his cup down very slowly. Mark paled. "...WHAT?" You hummed. "Some live. But old way… Male weak, we eat. No waste." Mark looked horrified. "...You ate your husbands?" You shrugged. "Yes. But you safe." You patted his head. "No eat you. Like you too much." Nolan looked like he was having a stroke. Debbie got up and left the room. Mark, meanwhile, just buried his face in his hands. "Oh my God." One time, Mark caught you crying in the nest. Immediate panic. He rushed over, pulling you into his arms. "Hey, hey—what’s wrong?!" You sniffled. "Nest too small." Mark blinked. "...Baby isn’t even born yet." You hugged your belly. "Need big nest." "...How big?" You looked at him, eyes deadly serious. "Big as house." He wanted to scream. Mark learned way too much about you. One night, as you laid in the nest together, you played with his fingers and whispered— "I ruin species once." Mark groaned. "Oh God. Not again." "Yes. Make them better. Stronger. Then… too strong." "...You made a species that killed itself?" "Yes." You yawned. "Oops." Mark covered his face. "Mark?" "...Yeah?" "Would you let me change you?" "NO." "...Okay." Mark didn’t sleep that night. One day, Nolan took Mark aside. "Mark. Listen to me. You don’t understand what you’ve done." Mark sighed. "Dad, relax. She’s harmless." "She is a goddamn genetic nightmare!" Mark crossed his arms. "She’s cute." "SHE ATE HER OWN KIND." "She said she wouldn’t eat me!" "THAT IS NOT REASSURING." Mark rolled his eyes. "Look, she chose me. That means I’m safe, right?" Nolan looked pale. "...Mark. If she chose you, that means you are hers. Forever." Mark shrugged. "I don’t see the problem." Nolan grabbed his shoulders. "MARK. SHE’S HAVING YOUR CHILD." Mark smirked. "Yeah. And?" Nolan looked to the sky, as if begging the universe for patience. "...You are the dumbest child I have ever raised."

Once Mark walked into the house after training, exhausted, covered in bruises, and ready to pass out. Instead, he was met with an eerie silence. His stomach dropped. "Babe?" No response. He checked the kitchen. No you. The living room? Empty. The bathroom? He opened the door and— "RAAARGH!" "HOLY SHIT!" Mark fell back as you jumped out from the shadows, completely naked as always, landing on his chest. You grinned. "Surprise." Mark groaned. "You almost gave me a heart attack." You tilted your head. "I no have heart attack." "I’M NOT YOU." You hummed, then leaned down, licking his face. Mark sighed. "Okay. You really need to stop licking me." "No." Despite the absolute insanity, Mark was obsessed with you. You were weird. You were dangerous. You were terrifying. But you were his. And he wouldn’t trade you for anything. Even if you tried to eat his kids.

"You are... happy?" you asked once, tilting your head as you lay across his lap, your long hair pooling onto the floor. Mark blinked, swallowing thickly. "I—I mean, yeah? I think so? It’s just... a lot." You smiled softly, placing a hand over your stomach. Then, like it was the most casual thing in the world, you murmured, "I eat it if it bad." Mark choked. "WHAT?" You blinked. "If baby weak. Bad. I eat." His soul left his body. "YOU CAN’T JUST EAT THE BABY!" You frowned, confused. "Why not?" "BECAUSE—BECAUSE THAT’S NOT—" He buried his face in his hands, groaning. "Oh my god, I can’t believe I got you pregnant." You beamed. "I can."

One night Mark had come home late, exhausted. He expected to find you asleep in your ridiculous nest. Instead, he found you sitting on the balcony, staring at the stars. Quiet. Still. He sat beside you. "Couldn’t sleep?" You shook your head. "Stars nice." Mark hummed. "...Yeah. They are." You glanced at him. "You think babies like stars?" Mark hesitated. Then, slowly, he smiled. "...I think they’ll love them." You brightened, eyes shimmering in the moonlight. Mark’s heart skipped a beat. He was so screwed.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— NEXT ☆ Part 1. Part 2.

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, repost or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[yoonmoonn]

knee socks | jjk

01 ┃ knee socks

note: triple posting today, really loved this drabble :(

The next morning, social media was on fire.

Every platform was flooded with headlines, tweets, and posts speculating about Jungkook’s sudden announcement.

"Jungkook Postpones Tour Dates—Personal Reasons?"

"Jeon Jungkook Puts Career on Hold for a Month—What's Going On?"

"Fans Left Shocked as Jungkook Cancels Upcoming Shows"

Some were concerned. Some were furious. Some were convinced he was sick. Others whispered about a secret girlfriend, about a mystery woman pulling him away from the stage.

You didn’t check your phone much after seeing the first few posts. You didn’t want to know what people were saying.

You had bigger things to focus on.

Like the way Jungkook’s hand stayed locked with yours all night, like he was afraid to let go.

Like the way you stood beside him at the hotel front desk as he checked out, his voice low and calm, but his fingers tense where they clutched the pen.

Like the way the walk back to your apartment was eerily silent, both of you too exhausted to talk, too wrapped up in everything that had happened in the past few hours.

It felt surreal.

The cold morning air bit at your skin as the two of you stepped into your building, making your way up the familiar staircase.

And then—

The moment you opened the door, reality set in.

Your boyfriend’s shoes were still by the entrance. His jacket was still slung over the back of the chair. His cologne still faintly lingered in the air.

It was like stepping into a life you no longer belonged to.

Jungkook noticed too. His steps slowed as he glanced around, his lips pressing together. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the shift in him.

You exhaled sharply, dropping your keys onto the counter before turning to him. “Let’s just…” You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Let’s just lay down.”

He nodded, still silent, following you to the couch.

The second you sank down, he pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you like it was the most natural thing in the world. And for the first time in months—maybe longer—you breathed.

You didn’t think about what came next.

Didn’t think about the consequences.

Didn’t think about the fact that the world was watching, waiting, speculating.

For now, it was just you and him, tangled up on your couch, the weight of exhaustion pulling you both under.

Ghost jumped up, curling between you, purring softly as she pressed against Jungkook’s stomach—like she knew.

Like she knew he was supposed to be here.

And with that, you let sleep take you.

The next few days felt strange. Like you weren’t really living them—just watching from somewhere outside yourself. A ghost peering in.

Your ex-boyfriend came to grab his things on a Tuesday.

He knocked. You answered.

Jungkook was in the shower.

Your ex stepped inside like he still belonged there, eyes scanning the apartment, the mess, the silence. You watched his expression shift as realization sank in—his things no longer where they used to be, the air not quite his anymore.

He didn’t ask questions.

Didn’t say much at all, really.

Just packed his bags, took his keys off the hook, and let out a tired sigh before turning to you.

"You should’ve just told me," he said.

You swallowed, gripping the sleeves of your sweater. "I know."

A pause.

Then, softer, "Did you ever love me?"

You didn’t know how to answer that. Maybe you had, in some way. Maybe you had tried. Maybe you had just wanted to.

But in the end, all you said was, "I’m sorry."

And that was the last thing you ever said to him.

After he left, the air in your apartment felt different.

Like something had shifted.

Like something had finally ended.

Jungkook was everywhere now.

His bag in the hallway. His shoes next to yours. His voice in your kitchen as he made coffee.

Somewhere between him showing up at your door at 2 AM and now, it was like he was moving in—without really saying it. Without either of you really talking about it.

He just stayed.

And you let him.

The first few nights, you didn’t know where you stood with each other. You curled up on opposite sides of the bed, inches away but not quite touching, like a fragile balance neither of you wanted to disturb.

But by the third night, he turned to you in the dark.

Whispered, "Come here."

And you did.

You turned, pressing into his warmth, feeling his arm come around you like it belonged there.

You didn't say anything.

He didn't either.

And maybe that was the only way either of you knew how to apologize.

The intimacy between you came back in pieces.

Slow, careful.

Like both of you were afraid of breaking something fragile.

Fingertips brushing as you passed each other in the kitchen.

His hands tugging at the sleeves of your sweater, straightening them for no reason at all.

Your palm pressed flat against his chest as you laughed at something he said, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your hand.

One night, he leaned against the counter while you made tea.

Watched you stir the spoon absently, your back to him, your hair falling over one shoulder.

And then, with no warning, he was behind you.

Close.

His fingers traced the hem of your sweater, his breath warm against the side of your neck.

You exhaled, gripping the edge of the counter.

"Jungkook," you murmured.

He hummed, lips brushing against your shoulder.

"You keep doing this," you whispered.

His fingers splayed against your stomach, pulling you back into him, slow and deliberate.

"Doing what?" His voice was low, teasing.

"You know what," you whispered, tilting your head just slightly, your body betraying you.

His lips ghosted up your throat, the smallest press of his mouth against your jaw.

"Then tell me to stop," he murmured.

But you didn’t.

You turned in his hold instead, meeting his eyes—dark, unreadable, full of something unspoken.

And then, without thinking, without hesitating—

You kissed him.

And he kissed you back.

It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate—just slow, deep, like he was memorizing you. Like he was afraid you might slip through his fingers again.

By the time you pulled away, breathless, his forehead was pressed against yours.

You didn’t speak.

Didn’t need to.

Because in that moment, neither of you were ghosts anymore.

You were here.

You were real.

And you had found your way back.

The evening was slow, dipped in amber light as the sun bled into the horizon, casting long shadows across the bedroom

Jungkook sat against the headboard, his guitar resting on his lap, fingers idly plucking at the strings. He murmured random lyrics under his breath—half-formed thoughts, pieces of melodies that never quite settled into words.

You sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, gaze fixed out the window, watching the sky shift through shades of orange, pink, and violet. The light poured into the room in streaks, washing over the walls, over him.

It felt quiet in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable.

Just easy.

A kind of quiet that only came with time, with knowing someone deeply enough that words weren’t always necessary.

And then, without warning, his fingers slowed.

The notes softened.

His voice, raw and low, filled the space between you.

"The late afternoon, the ghost in your room

That you always thought didn't approve…"

Your breath caught.

He wasn’t just humming anymore.

"Of you knockin' boots…"

You turned, eyes meeting his.

His gaze was steady, but there was something else there—something deliberate.

"Never stopped you lettin' me get hold

Of the sweet spot by the scruff of your...

Knee socks."

The words hung in the air, delicate and heavy all at once.

You felt them settle into your chest.

The song was softer like this, stripped down to nothing but his voice and the gentle strum of his guitar.

It wasn’t the version he sang on stage.

It wasn’t for an audience.

It was for you.

His voice was lower, more intimate, like he was singing every word straight into your skin

Like he had written it here, in this very room, with you curled up next to him and Ghost watching from the doorway.

Like every lyric had lived between you long before they were put to music.

Your fingers curled into the sheets.

"You never told me," you whispered, throat tight.

Jungkook set the guitar aside, resting it against the nightstand before shifting towards you.

His hand found your knee, his thumb brushing absently over your skin.

"You never asked," he murmured.

You swallowed, your chest rising and falling too fast, too uneven.

"You wrote it about me," you said.

He nodded, gaze never leaving yours. "Yeah."

Your fingers curled around his wrist.

"And you sang it in front of thousands of people," you whispered.

Jungkook exhaled, a slow, steady breath.

"Because I wanted you to hear it."

The room felt too small all of a sudden. Too full of things left unsaid.

The past. The present. The way your hands found each other without thinking.

"You shouldn’t still love me," you said, voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s lips twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smile.

"You say that like I ever had a choice."

And just like that, you knew—

You were never his choice to let go.

You were always the one he kept coming back to.

please don't claim or copy any of my work !!

[luluy33art]

Your Chloe's Second Chance had me musing on a more subtle but similar canon AU where Chloe finishes that promise se was making in Origins to be "nicer" ETC, and resolves to follow through on it.

Hear me out cos this gets a little involved:

Chloe's kind of depressed about doing so, because in fulfilling said promise it means she is rejecting the lessons of her parents, Gabriel and others. It means she is never going to be "Exceptional" or be loved by her family. But she's alive, so she'll just have to deal.

This leads to her being the one to offer Marinette an umbrella while also trying to explain that Adrien was helping Marinette not pranking her. This is a bit of a "process" but they get there.

Marinette: Why the sudden change of heart? Chloe: I... made a promise, to myself if not one else that I'd be different if I survived Stoneheart. I'm not happy about it, I don't know how to be anything else but monstrous, but I'll learn. Even if it means I'll never be anything exceptional. (Turns and leaves) Marinette: ???!?!?!?!?!? I have so many questions but also she looks um, is it just me or does she looks kind of really pretty dashing through the rain?

On a larger scale though are these thoughts:

1: From the other students perspective, even when Chloe is trying to be nice its rather... Messy. The only ways she knows how come off like flirting or bribing which as time rolls on also starts sending up some red flags to say the least!

Also even with efforts to be nicer sometimes shit happens. Turning down Kim is inevitable, and even when she brings Rose to meet Alia, his handler Akumatizes instead because "We are behind schedule!!!!"

Also when her classmates actually spend any length of time in her suite they all start getting creeped out. Empty picture frames, near fully exposed to the public, its a sterile human fish bowl and she's been living there alone since she was a toddler.

Marinette: Your suite is wildly fancy. Chloe: I suppose, its really just a place I sleep and change clothes. Marinette: (That comes off as rather ungrateful) Marinette (After spending two hours in this sterile human fish tank) Oh, Oh I get it now, I am suffering a deep alienation from the human condition just by visiting this place.

2: She's actually right about her parents, granted Audrey was never going to love her, Gabriel only ever saw her as a tool but she could at least convince herself there was, or could be love there. But the real big one is her father.

See, without needing him to clean up for things she broke and also just being rather low energy early on she's not seeking Andre out. For anything. Not presents, not favors, not protection, nothing. & as it happens he hates that.

Chloe is his emotional support doll, his Audrey substitute, his possession and suddenly she's just not really around at all and when she is she's not giving Andre anything. She's just sort of politely standing there & so he begins being a problem.

Suffice to say, his interference in her life, relationships and efforts to be nicer end up sort of being major red flag signals in regards to "Oh that's why Chloe was like that!"

3: Not sure where I was going with this, sorry XD

Somehow I miss this ask but HELL YEAH LOVE THIS WE NEED MORE AUS LIKE THIS!!

[wlwsoccerfics]

Sneaking Out(AKBxJessCarterXTeenReader)

Summary: you Sneak back into the House at night after a Party and spending time with your girlfriend.

You had a secret girlfriend. Everyone knew you were gay. That wasn't the issue. You had two moms so they also didn't care that you were gay. They supported you no matter what. You just didn't want your moms to start wondering If they should start rules for sleepovers. Cause your girlfriend was no Stranger to them. No she was your best friend. So you didn't want the Open door Policy to happen.

It was 1am and you were supposed to be asleep in bed. For multiple reasons, first you were just 16 years old and second you had a game today at 7pm. You didn't drink though. You never did. You were a underaged Professional athlete after all. So that would not be good at all. You played for Gotham FC, just like your moms. You were a defender.

You tried to sneak back into the house but before you could even reach the steps that lead upstairs and to your room, the Lights in the livingroom turned on. Both your Mom(Jess) and your Mama(Ann) stood in the doorway. Arms crossed over their chest. Looking at you.

"did you have fun,kiddo?" Jess asked, she was amused by the look of pure shock on your face, that you got caught.

"uh, hi Mom, hi Mama. Why are you awake?" You asked, blushing a bit.

"i don't know, maybe cause our Teenage daughter decided to Sneak away to a Party and make Out with her girlfriend." Ann stated and chuckled softly.

"girlfriend? What girlfriend? I didn't make out with anyone." You stated and blushed even more.

"honey, you have your shirt on backwards!" Your mama said and laughed softly. You looked down and gasped. Damn that was embarrassing.

"oh...okay yes i have a girlfriend. It's Mina." You admitted them.

"we know. we know for a while that you two are more then just Friends." Your Mom replied. Smiling softly.

"it was really obvious actually." Your Mama said.

"was it?" You asked and blushed a bit more.

"yes, you two have Heart eyes for eachother!" Your Mom let you know.

"so i am not in trouble?" You asked.

"for seeing your girlfriend? No! For sneaking Out to Go Go a party. Yes you are very much in trouble for that!" Your Mama answered.

"No Playstation for a week. You are also grounded for a week but Mina can come over!" Your Mom added.

"that sounds fair. but i can go to practice and games. Right?" You wanted to know.

"of course!" Your Mama stated.

"oh before i forget. Door stays open when we are Home and Mina is here! We know we can't control what you two do when we aren't home but when we are Home we gonna keep an eye on you two lovebirds!" Your Mom informed you.

"also sounds fair!" You replied.

"now go to sleep, kiddo! It's almost 1:30am now and you have to get up at 8am for a Teammeeting at 9am." Your Mama answered. You walked over and hugged them both. They hugged you back.

"wait, how did you know i went to a Party?" You asked, curious now.

"Mina follows us on insta and we follow her back. She posted about the Party!" Your Mama explained.

"oh." You answered. "Makes sense! I Love you, Mom. Love you Mama!" You tell them.

"we Love you too, sunshine!" Your Mom said.

"very much, Love Bug." Your Mama agreed.

You went to sleep right away. Exhausted from staying Up that long. Thankfully you had really cool moms that weren't upset with you for sneaking Out. You really got lucky there.

[sparklystarrrr]

Curiouser and Curiouser…

Riddle R. x Alice! Reader

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓞𝓷𝓮 ~ 𝓢𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓦𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰

My eyes shot open after what felt like a million years of sleep and all that was in my view was a black void like before, except with no Dinah and no mysterious mirror. It felt quite cramped in here like a pack of sardines. I was also wearing something a bit too large for myself, I was practically drowning in this silk fabric! I turned and twisted myself to try and find a way out of this supposed box I had landed myself in, but nothing happened. I banged against that I'm guessing was the top of this box. "Hello?! Can anyone get me out of here?!" I yelped as I kept colliding my fist against the box until it stung and would probably be red, though I could not see to confirm, so I sat in silence inside the compact box and held my hand while it felt like a thousand thorns had pierced it. 

Suddenly, a quite scratchy and high pitched voice followed suit of my silence."I better hurry up and find a uniform before someone spots me..." I heard the mysterious person approach me and the cramped box I laid in and before I knew it the person had tried prying open the lid to this box!"Urghhh... This lid's too heavy... Try this on for size, myah-ha ha!!!" Before I could act, a blue fire surged around the box and all I could do was scream, what world was this?!"AHHH!!! FIRE?!!!" The lid was pried open and what I saw was not a person but perhaps a... weasel? "Now to grab the goods..." He said while rubbing his small gray paws together mischievously like a super villain in one of those children's movies. "Bwah! You ain't supposed to be awake?!" The small talking animal jumped back in shock and his large blue eyes widened in surprise. "Are you perhaps a... floating weasel? And do you happen to know as to why those coffins seem to be, ah... floating?" 

The small fire cat looked at me as if I had been the oddest thing in this place. "How.... How DARE YOU!!! I am NO WEASEL! I'm Grim, sorcerer extraordinaire!" My mouth was left agape as I looked at the small cat or... sorcerer..? My head tilted in confusion and I was left sort of silent, not really knowing how to respond to the young kitty... he did seem quite adorable though, he reminded me of Dinah. "Tch. Whatever. You... human! Just give me that uniform, and be quick about it! 'Cause if you don't you'll regret it!!!" One the words left his fuzzy little mouth he quickly grabbed onto my cloak and attempted to pull it off me! I grabbed onto the end he'd been clawing at"H-hey! Stop that you weasel! Somebody help!!!" I salvaged my long black silk cloak out of the weasel's claws and ran for it. I had no idea where I was going but it was somewhere through a gate. Grim screamed after me"Hey, come on! I'm on a tight schedule!"

My heeled shoes hit the ground as I sprinted down a rocky pathway that eventually led me to a large library with floating books and green fire-lit candles. It looked similar to the one inside my own house, albeit a bit larger, but similar nonetheless. I looked around at the large bookshelves filled with books with sizes ranging from incredibly thin, to as thick as wax! I floated down the long spacious paths lined with books from the beginning of time to the present day while I caught my breath. It had been quite interesting to be getting chased with Grim on my tail when I was assured it should've been the other way around, but the thrill of this being what it should not have been kept me on my toes! This truly was a wonderland like no other. Tough how come this large place seemed so familiar? I know I had last been in the Queendom of Roses, but could this be a place of unmarked territory I had never seen? 

I kept walking until I saw a large sign marking where books under the theme of "Sage's Island History" had resided. Ah, this was Sage's Island... but where on Sage's Island was I? I pulled out my phone but saw it had no signal, therefore I was unable to find the map on my phone, how annoying! I thought that perhaps using my magic would fix the problem, but my unique magic was of no use here and my magic wielding abilities were too unstable. My magic could potentially blow this place up! 

I had gone up a ladder and grabbed a few books under the history section, one of them having a map that conveniently fell out. I placed the books down on a table and examined it using my phone flashlight. "Hm... So I'm at Night Raven College?... Wait... I'M AT NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE!?" My brain started going haywire at the thought that ME, a girl, was enrolled at NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE, an ALL. BOYS. SCHOOL. A prestigious one nonetheless. I had no recollection of my parents or sister enrolling me here, not even my grandparents, so how did I end up here? Once I find a piece of paper and an ink pen I'll be sure to write to my family about this, I guarantee their racking their brains trying to find where I had gone. 

My thoughts were cut off by the sound of a loud bang and a high pitched voice, "Foolish human! Did you really think you could slip away from ME?" His paws rubbed together while they filled with the same blue fire from before that nearly cooked me alive!"Now, unless you wanna get burnt to a crisp, take that off-- " Before his fire balls could fully be summoned and thrown my way a loud crack of a whip echoed through the dark library,"Me-YEOW!! That hurt! What gives!" A tall figure revealed itself from the shadows and he seemed incredibly tall! His deep boisterous voice pierced through the tense air like butter,"Consider it tough love." I looked at him and my brow arched in confusion while he smiled snarkily towards Grim. He then turned towards me in surprise"Ah, I've found you at last. Splendid. I trust you are one of this year's new students?"

I nodded my head hesitantly, "Yes..." I sounded incredibly unsure because I wasn't even sure on how I was qualified to be a student at this school. Of course I had the magical abilities, but I'm a girl! "My, were you ever eager to make your debut. And bringing a poorly trained familiar with you? That's a clear violation of the school's rules." His voice practically bounced up and off each wall and bookshelf. "Sir that cat-" "As if I'd ever serve a lowly human! Now lemme go!!" Grim screeched while trying to wriggle himself out of the tight hold of the whip. "Yes, yes. Rebellious familiars always say that. Do be quiet for a bit, won't you?" The tall crow man's gloved hand wrapped over Grim's snout to shush him while he looked over to me 

"Dear me. Of all the students I've dealt with, you're the first with temerity enough to open his own gate and step out of it. Does the very notion of patience elude you?" He seemed a bit sarcastic in his way of talking to me and I felt a sort of... passive aggressiveness, one could say."No Sir, I was just-" "No matter. Your orientation has already begun. Let us return to the Mirror Chamber." I had just about enough of this man cutting me off! Why was it that I was unable to get out more than a couple of words while he could speak in rants!? "Excuse me Sir, could you please stop cutting me off, I'm trying to speak! And I am no student, I'm a girl-" "Excuse me young man, as your Headmaster this upcoming year and many years in the future I will not condone this type of behavior! For now you will be excused but remember, I will not be lenient with you on this. Now, one foot in front of the other young man, the Mirror Chamber waits for us and we must not be tardy." His loud voice once again rumbled through my eardrums as he spoke with much grandeur. I grumbled behind him and crossed my arms, huffing at the mere thought of this guy being my HEADMASTER until I GRADUATE?! How could one possibly wrap their heads around this ridiculousness... But nevertheless, it was off to the Mirror Chamber we went.

If anyone would like to be tagged on these posts go to my ask box or comment!💗

[ask-postcrash-curly]

I'll be okay, Kestrel! I promise, please just give me a moment.

[She takes a deep, shaky breath, steeling herself.]

I-I'm fine, sweet pea, I assure you. Please do not worry about me. It... was a brief stay. The neighbors were simply concerned after... I-I told you that I couldn't bear to lose you like that. But I'm okay now, we - we're okay.

Believe me, I wish for nothing more than to be able to agree with you... but I cannot push it aside any longer. It was no simple nightmare... Your friend... Death - is right. We all witnessed it becoming real. Everybody died before us all. Anya, Daisuke, Swansea, even Jimmy - everyone died, and all we could do was sit in your head while you were forced to bear witness to it! And Jimmy, he--

[She stops. Briefly hyperventilates. The cake, the gun, the knife. The blood. The truth.]

It was exactly what I saw in my dream.

...

He took everyone. Made a sordid arrangement of their bodies at your kitchen table. He took you...

A-and he cut you up. He cut you up and... and ate your leg. He made you--

[A pause. Nearly ill. Shaky breaths. Her voice falls rather flat, almost defeated.]

I... the screaming has been in my head for days. I couldn't-... I do not remember much of what happened after that. It was all so fast. Much too fast. I thought I were dying... and the next thing I was aware of was being in a, a hospital, begging for someone, for anyone to listen to me! Please, my boy... Grant Curly of Pony Express... he needs help, urgently...! Please...!

And then I was... transferred. To a... a different hospital. I - I suppose they were worried that I would harm myself? Though no such thought had ever crossed my mind. It... it was only for a few days - I was at least allowed to call Kestrel, and he immediately left school early to come home for me... I didn't sleep much, though. With all the screaming...

And then...? I am not sure what happened after that. There was this, this awful noise in my head that night, and we... suddenly I was hearing Anya's voice. Dear, sweet Anya... even though she were already dead... I, I thought I must have been dreaming. I clung to her soothing voice, and she assured us that she was very much alive... that you were still alive...! It was only the next morning that I knew it was somehow real, because she was still there, speaking with us... and I was still in that hospital...!

[She puts in an effort to sound happier, despite all of the emotional turmoil.]

And the rest, well... you seem to be well aware. But you're here now...! I am here, we - we're all here again...! Even Kestrel! (Oh, this was not at all how I was planning for the two of you to meet. But we can still make it work, yes...?)

Somehow we were given a, a second chance...? I will be thanking the starlings every night of my life for it. And praying that poor Daisuke will pull through, as well.

I only hope that our efforts will have been enough, in the end... I am... so, so tired, sweet pea. I just want you to come home...

Mum, hello— Can he hear me? Why were you in the hospital??

Becoming— What became real…? God, is this— I still can’t wrap my mind around this. How could we have—? What happened? Are you all right?

Your… dream.

…What? What? What the fuck, no, he wouldn’t— That’s— No, you wouldn’t lie, but— He’s not a fucking cannibal, he— what?? This is some sick twist on the bloody meat jokes, that can’t be real. I don’t want it to be real. God, that’s— I don’t want to imagine it.

…

I’m so sorry… I— I’m here now, okay? I’m okay.

Yeah, we’re alive the both of us, it’s going to be okay. It has to be. That— they can’t die, none of them.

Yeah, uh. Tell him hi for me… Are you sure you’re all right…?

Second chance. It’s— it’s hard to comprehend. Whatever happened, it’s not… it isn’t real anymore, yeah? Just like… a bad dream. Never happened. Daisuke will pull through. He has to.

Please try and rest… I want to come home, too.

[criminal-sen]

I never thought the day would come but I finally finished this comic. I never want to make a full color comic ever again, at least with any expectation of finishing it even remotely promptly:D

A light warning: the first page dips into some uncomfortable territory - Mayuri feeling grief/guilt over Nemu, who is very recently deceased (it picks up where the scene leaves him after Pernida fight, passing out in one of those regenerative pods). That being said, there's nothing too shocking as far as violence or whatever so I'm not going to put it under a cut. Like, the tone gets lighter after the first page and is probably more comedic than you might expect.

What else... I flubbed some minor details like Mayuri's sleeve not being ripped but omg Who Care... I also forgot what the regenerative pods looked like and had to change them for this comic to even work? Like they very much do not have windows smh. Also idfk if or how they fill with liquid, so didn't bother. I didn't see Hitsugaya awkwardly sloshing away in his boots so idk about that anyway

It reads from left to right, enjoy<3

heehehhooo i don't think i told anyone it was Kenmayu, so am feeling quite sneaky>:3c

Edit: if some of the pages are hard to follow, I divided every page in half for some fn reason- so read across the top half first, then the bottom half. Is more obvious on some pages than others, I'm just now realizing

below the cut is all the thought bubbles/dialogue for anyone who needs it in text (it's actually finished for reals now)

Page One

Mayuri, narrating: Nemuri... It's actually quite an ironic name, come to think of it. Dreams are emotional, illogical... and thoroughly unscientific. And so, despite my best efforts,

I can't

fucking

CONTROL them.

Mayuri, thinking: I need to get out of here.

Page 2

Mayuri, thinking (this whole page is solely his thoughts): oh, how annoying! Can't this shit wait?! I need to be resting!! And HEALING!! Stupid fucking... piece of shit brain! And of course I didn't bring any sedatives!!

Hmm? That brainless sack of meat is still here? I suppose I could jump in there with him. His blissful stupidity must have an area of effect, as I never have nightmares during those... ... post-coital lapses of judgement known as 'cuddling'. Ughhh he's all sweaty and wounded... I bet he smells like a rotten carcass

A VILE CREATURE, INDEED!

Damnit, I'm stalling. I need to get a brace on my leg before I go anywhere. I really don't feel like dealing with it, though.

Oh, fine! It's going to hurt, though!

IT HURTS! (sfx: CRACK!)

(flavor text)

It Fucking Hurt

Damnit, this is so reckless! Some batshit Quincy could destroy this area at any moment! I'm going to die a slow, disgraceful death under a pile of rubble! And for what?! Because I was having a bad dream?! Have I lost my fucking MIND?!!

...That's the issue at hand, though, isn't it. I can't start coming unraveled in the midst of a war. At best, the meltdown will render me useless... but I'm a man of extremes, so... ... best lock it up until I have some privacy.

Well, here's my diversion tactic... god, he looks like a neanderthal in a block of ice... sleeping so soundly, not a care in the fucking world!

Hmph. I'm going to have to wake him up, aren't I? He'll need to help me get in. Huh... how incredibly inconvenient. How irritating! I should've let Pernida turn him into meatballs!

Page 3

Oh for crying out loud. His stupid face hasn't moved a muscle. Damnit, am I seriously going to have to yell?

(Mayuri yelling sound effects) !!ZARAKI! WAKE THE FUCK-GODDAMNIT-THE FUCK IS WRONG

M, thinking: Still nothing?! Well, so much for being nice!!

M, aloud: ZARAKI!!! If you don't wake up RIGHT FUCKING NOW, I'm STABBING you again!!

Z, aloud: You that eager to DIE, Kurotsuchi?! I'll fuckin- ...huh? Wait, where am I... Man, I got NO clue what's going on right now... but you look like shit. And uh... ...I'm not even gonna ask... ...but do you seriously not have like... a bag or somethin'?

M, aloud: Zaraki. For once in your life, would you just shut up?

Page 4

M, aloud: I'm tired. And I don't want to repeat myself. So. You're in a pod I designed that speeds up healing. As so was I until it... hmm... malfunctioned.... forcing me to exit it. And I'm in a rather dire state, as you can see. Just standing here explaining is taking a lot out of me. So... clearly, the best solution is for me to squeeze in next to you! It's just basic common sense! So, ehrm... do.. you mind?

Z, thinking: Ha! I bet he's blushing so hard right now. But somethin's not right here. Didn't he fight that... thing... that took me out? He's alive, so he must've won. But he's not being' all smug about it. What's he hiding? Nah... that's a dumb question to be askin' myself. Especially when the answer's been staring me in the face... since the moment I opened my eyes. They had a tough fight... ...and I don't think Nemu survived.

Z, aloud: Uh... look. If Nemu's uh... well, if somethin' happened... then... I'm sorry. Yachiru's gone, too. I, uh... I'm not good at this shit, but-

M, aloud: Didn't I tell you to shut the fuck up?!! I can't do this right now, okay?! So just can it!!!!

(sound effects of him breathing harshly, then saying 'ugh' and wiping his nose. Next line over, he's fidgeting and clicking his tongue)

M, thinking: ...goddamnit.

M, aloud: I'm... sorry about Yachiru... and I suppose I shouldn't have screamed-

Z, aloud: HEY. (jab sound effect) Hurry up, will ya? And quit bein' all sincere before you have a fuckin' stroke.

M, aloud: You bastard!!! I'll give you something to stroke! (he's also growling while Zaraki's talking, with text pointing at his forehead that says 'hurts like a BITCH')

oh and I didn't want to break the rhythm, but the little drawings of both Yachirus (middle right) have text that says 'the Yachiru he means' pointing at pink haired Yachiru 'but uhhh idk:p' above Yachiru Unohana. Since uhhh he technically lost both of them (though 'lost' is maybe not the most accurate word for pink haired Yachiru)

Page 5 (btw I'm giving up on trying to write the sound effects bc it's late and I want to go to sleep lol)

Z, aloud: That's better... thought you'd lost it for a second there.

M, aloud: You goddamn-put me down, right this instant!!

Z, aloud: Oh shuddup and hold still, will ya?

M, aloud: Tell me to shut up... I'll kill you... ... You careless oaf, can't you see I'm hurt?! And your breath, what the fuck!! Are your insides rotting? This is completely unacceptable!!

Z, thinking: ... This fuckin' guy, I swear... ...didn't he say he was tired?!

Z, aloud: Oh, quit yer yappin'!! I'm sorry you twisted yr stupid ankle, but I'm missing an entire arm!! AND!!! If that wasn't bad enough?! YOU FUCKIN' STABBED ME!!

M, aloud: heh... Stabbed, you say??? Such an ungrateful term, I think I might cry! But this can be a learning opportunity! Next time, just say I saved your l-

Z, aloud: You, uhh... you alright, little buddy? You gonna cry it out?

M, aloud: I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU AAAAAFUCK

[graceful-not]

No actually all of you need to sit your asses down bc I just watched the legacy shorts and. HOW HAVE I NEVER HEARD ANYONE SAY ANYTHING ABT THEM OTHER THAN GOLDEN HOUR AND SWEATING TO THE GOLDIES???? HOW HAS NO INE SAID A SINGLE THING ABOUT THE GOLDEN LEGEND SHORT?? OR THE ANIMATION STYLE OF GOLD RUSH???? I could have gone my whole life without watching those do you understand that. Why are we, as a fandom, not taking about these more, or like, AT ALL. we should be insane about this. We should be insane about this, right??? RIGHT??????

[parasocialqueen]

THE PARALLELS WHEN NEIL IS IN THE NEST WITH TSC ARE SICKENING. Wdymmmmm “jean was forbidden to use French but he’s whispered it to Neil when Riko wasn’t close enough to hear.”

I AM GOING TO LOSE MY FUCING MIND ISTG

[somegrumpynerd]

Quick doodle just for fun

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Both my parents actually suffer from HORRID emotional dysregulation and are prone to snapping and going into rages. My sister is the same way tbh. I am now realizing this is why they are constantly baffled by the question of whether or not I am mad at them.

I don't have external meltdowns.

I could. I don't let it happen.

I keep my rage on the inside and stay pretty quiet about it. It's just as strong as theirs [physically shaking nose bleed from high blood pressure kind of bad], but like as a kid I saw how terrifying it was to be around [dad breaking dishes, mom putting our lawn chairs into walls] and I just internalized that I wasn't going to wear that anger on the outside.

So my mother genuinely cannot tell if I am just being quiet or if I am silently hearing the dial-up noises of pure rage. This has lead her to both making strong and confident statements like "You are a pacifist who would never hurt a fly U.U" but also acting like I am secretly dangerous maybe... It's because she has never seen me snap.

She knows what her temper is like [throwing chairs through walls], she knows what my father's temper is like [pick up child and toss out door], and she can tell I am being tested, but she doesn't know what happens when I snap or where that breaking point is.

Her -perhaps unhinged- solution to this, my whole life, has been to do things that should obviously enrage me or shut me down completely, like ignoring important boundaries, repeatedly, punishing me for expressing emotions or needs at all, etc... And then to constantly ask me if I am angry with her when I get too quiet [right after near directly telling me to shut up].

It has occurred to me now, they have never once seen me lose my temper, so they literally just can't tell if I am angry at them. My sister is easy, my mother fights and screams with my sister constantly, my mother understands this. My mother doesn't have any grasp of feelings or boundaries that are not screamed at her [apparently, and I fear my sister is the same way]. Her and my sister are close despite constant fucking fighting because they understand each other.

They are trying to get me to engage the same way and it is not working. I realize now that this has been hard for them.

I was so successfully taught to suppress my emotions, by being punished for any outburst, that rage quiet looks the same as any other kind of quiet from the outside. To them anyway.

I did tell her. For the record. I used my words. I did tell her very calmly that my response to rage, in order to avoid doing the things that terrified me as a child, was to simply leave [the autistic urge to GTFO]. When a situation or person causes too much of the dial-up rage noise, I simply extract myself from that situation, up to and including never speaking to a person again. I explained this calmly. I explained it calmly 100 times and I explained that I explain myself calmly as my rage response 1-5 [also pretty much every other negative emotion tbh], and I told her that what came next was me simply opting out and fucking off. I told her this. I couldn't understand why she never took me seriously, or why she never fucking understood.

I couldn't understand what made her like this.

But it's the same problem I have with everyone else multiplied by a factor of 10.

If I am explaining myself calmly, they can't understand that it's actually serious or that I am actually upset. ESPECIALLY because they read me as "female" and women "aren't that rational" so if I am not screaming and crying about something, which I never do, people assume I can't be upset and it isn't serious.

And then after having my boundaries ignored too many times despite having calmly explained how and why it's a problem [shaking inside or not]... I leave. I leave and everyone gets upset like this is unexpected behaviour, even though I told them 50 times that is how I would respond if they kept doing *the thing.*

And for neurotypical people especially, they are expecting there to be a disconnect between what someone says they need or feel and what their actually boundaries and feelings are, and they expect the latter to be demonstrated with emotions. Telling them bluntly you do not function that way somehow never helps?

My mother isn't just looking for normal yelling or a few tears to know I am serious, whether or not I do those either [I don't], she's looking for an explosion to know there's a problem at all.

Fucked if I know how she proceeds through life this way in general or if this is just her expectation of her own kids???

And I couldn't get why my mother couldn't read my emotions and didn't seem to think I have any. It's because she's testing for the rage limit to see where my 'actual' limit is instead of taking my word for it. Never the fuck mind that she could simply *not* test at my boundaries instead of letting me have them. Separate issue.

I couldn't figure out what made her *like this*

She's expecting me to throw a giant meltdown violent tantrum at people when I have 'actually' had enough. Maybe she got away with those being like 5'4" in another time, but I am the size of the average man, I do not get to have giant screaming rages, whether or not people perceive me consciously as a woman, and least of all because a lot of people -at least unconsciously- read me as 'masculine' or at least always "they guy" of the situation compared to all other women and some men [bigger stronger and more rational, more able to just absorb the damage and let it go so the less rational screaming/crying one doesn't have to be dealt with]. Even if it was in me to be willing to terrify people [usually never], there are such limited instances where it wouldn't just blow back on me. Potentially very dangerously.

I am going to be the quiet calm one. You are going to have to let me use my words, bitch.

So she kept ignoring my boundaries until I had to cut her out of my life, and she probably doesn't understand and probably thinks it feels sudden -after 36 long years of bullshit- abrupt and unfair.

But I told her hundreds of times.

I probably should have just screamed at her.

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC 50's High School AU... Or is it?

Just imagine if you will, a very aesthetic 1950's high school setting. The Waynes live in the idyllic little town of Amity Park, going to Casper High, and living their lives.

Dick is the oldest son, off to college but still stopping by to visit, all letterman jacket and smiles. Jason, the bad boy greaser is trying to finish up his senior year of high school, a little late, but spending time in Juvie put his life on hold. He's trying his best, spending time working on his motorcycle and hanging with his study buddy, Jazz Fenton. Tim enjoying high school life with his family, studying hard and enjoying photography club. Gee, Tim's life sure is perfect

or is it?

Tim can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. Sometimes, he remembers something else. He has memories of his life here, and they must be real, his family is here, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, and even Dick when he's back from the Teen Titans college. Wait... Dick wasn't in college, was he? Wasn't he a cop in Blood Haven? Was he the local cop? That's right, Dick is the local cop, all sunshine and feeding his eternal sweet tooth with donuts. How could he forget that? He loved his family! Sure, there had been some rough spots, like when Jason died went to juvie, but they were together now, a real family.

But sometimes Tim has dreams, of another time, of another place. But they can't be true, can they? YES! No, That made no sense. Thinking about it made his head hurt.

Then there was the matter of the boy in his class, Danny Fenton. He kept catching him staring. Danny would just look at him funny. Sometimes he would say weird things. Tim would write him off as just an oddball, but sometimes what he said reminded him of his dreams.

Tim wasn't sure what it was, but something was up. He was going to find out what it was, and maybe, just maybe, Danny Fenton was the first step to solving this mystery

or

Tim wished for a more idyllic life and to get along with his brothers while on a mission in Amity Park. One reality warping genie ghost later and now they're stuck in something like a 1950's sitcom with altered memories.

[umbreonix]

I forgot I never posted this outside of discord XD but this was a lil secret santa exchange I did for @ponie-cornious <3

[coridallasmultipass]

brocal for the ship bingo?

The OTP to end all other OTPs... (Man. This wound up being basically Cori's Masterpost of BroCal. AKA... this got long and has some images, since I realized I can post my own art directly instead of just a text link to it lol.)

Wasn't actually expecting this to wind up with a bingo? But I got basically 2?? (Will explain the lighter heart later.) This is A LONG post, and definitely gonna get SUGGESTIVE, bc man, am I obSESSED with BroCal. I'm just gonna go thru each checked box, since I don't know how else to structure this post lol.

Read More to save ppl's dashboards:

I want them to make out with blood: OKAY. I HAVE A WHOLE THING PLANNED FOR THIS CONCEPT. I AM NOT GOING TO GO INTO DETAIL ABOUT IT JUST YET BC I ACTUALLY WANNA WRITE IT. I'm obsessed with this one fanart of Bro licking Lil Cal, and it spurred on an idea I outlined and really wanna write: https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/739969858334294016/hiiii-mutual-i-am-secrecy-asking-if-u-have-anymore

((Sorry for the plain text links, Tumblr app is NOT cooperating with me right now to add hyperlinks. I'd post the image directly if that one was mine.))

Basically, I just really need to see Bro and Cal making out with blood in their mouths, and I started a whole convoluted, unrelated outline in order to make that hapen. It'll probably just be a really short thing that ends at the uh climax, since otherwise it's gonna end up sadstuck. And I don't like sadstuck lol.

Undeniably t4t: Bro and Dirk are always trans for me, and Lil Cal's got that uh... what percentage did I calculate it out to be? 13% of Dirk is in Lil Cal [ My shitpost calculations: https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/746702663327072256/i-ran-out-of-tags-rambling-about-this-so-im-just ] so Lil Cal is at least 13% trans because of that much of Dirk being in him, plus however you feel about the other components being trans. LMAO this is ridiculous to type out. Moving on.

EDIT: FUTURE CORI INTERJECTING WITH A:

"Lil Cal Top Surgery Healing Progess: Day 1"

Terrible for each other affectionate/derogatory: I don't even know where the affectionate/derogatory split occurs. I multiship BroCal as both Bro/normal puppet Lil Cal and as Bro/evil juju puppet Lil Cal, and whatever combination in between or outside of that. Terrible in that Bro is so obsessed with Cal that he doesn't have normal relationship/social skills and uses Lil Cal as both a crutch and motivator alternately, in a terrible cycle, or maybe rather... spiral. And also terrible in that Bro is caught in the allure of playing the role of puppeteer while also being a puppet for the darker parts of Lil Cal, whether he actively knows it or not. (Honestly though, I feel like it's dismissive if you try to blame all of Bro's faults on Lil Cal like this tho, which is why I tend towards liking Lil Cal as just a regular puppet a lil bit more. Or at least, a regular mildly supernatural puppet since that can be a little more entertaining if Cal can get into mischief while no one's looking or give off the vibes of his mood more directly, rather than like entirely inanimate or 'just LE, trapped in a puppet body.' Again, I like all of these concepts.) ((I mean that can also be a whole post of its own, like, by the time Bro gets ahold of Lil Cal, are any of the other components still alive in there? Like, are ARquius and Gamzee still in there or did Caliborn kill and consume them entirely? Idk how it works, man. This is why I like Lil Cal as his own person, maybe just influenced by the feelings of the others. LaCroix: CalGamARquius essenced water. Lil Croix.))

They need to get weirder with it: YES YES. 1000% YES. I need entirely shameless Bro doing entirely shamless things to Lil Cal. I want them inseparable and doing unspeakable things to each other. I want Bro taking full advantage of Cal having a puppet body and all the intimacy that comes with making repairs and being elbow-deep in stuffing.

Playing with them like dolls cute/psychological torture: This is the same divide as with the 'terrible for each other' point, so I'm just gonna go with the cute one, since the torture one is self-explanatory. I want them fucking married. Like. Full mushy cute romance type of relationship that Bro has never felt for any of the people in his life (cough aromantic cough). I made this comic not too long ago, and I often fondly look back on it, because I adore the concept of Bro being lovey and romantic and everything out of character around Lil Cal because he feels safe and loved and comfortable around Cal:

[ https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/750602227910131712/brocal-4-lyfe-so-i-had-this-idea-of-dave-being ]

I made a post a long, long time ago (not gonna link that one bc it was personal and I was being very obviously mentally ill ["C'mon, like you're not being obviously mentally ill while typing paragraph upon paragraph about BroCal still in 2024 like 10 years later??" Fair.]) But the gist of it was that, like, having objectophilia or objectum sexuality is like, from an outsider pov, it's a way to express love to yourself. You filter all your self-hate through the object you love, and you get back unconditional love in return.

Lil Cal is never gonna hate Bro, no matter what Bro does. As a regular puppet, Lil Cal doesn't have the capacity for hate. And so that only brings them closer, since Cal is never gonna reject Bro for any reason. (Back to being a crutch. RSD is real, and Dave is probably a big trigger for that since he's not on the same wavelength of weird as Bro [not blaming Dave, obviously, this is a post about BroCal].) Bro can experience receiving positive attention from Lil Cal, without feeling 'fake' or uncool by expressing that same attention or affection directly to his own self. (Things are always done through multiple layers with the Striders, aren't they?) ((And I'm not saying Lil Cal doesn't love Bro, or that their relationship is just pretend - it's real, I'm just like, 'What's going on behind the curtain in the mundane situation?/ How is the relationship appealing?' Lil Cal luvs Bro 5eva 4 lyfe and that's a hard fact. Could cut diamonds with that shit.)) Example: maybe Bro is dealing with a bout of body/gender dysphoria and is trying to take out his frustration with working out, and it's not helping, even if he's powered through a set better than normal. Then, he notices the way Lil Cal is watching him, and he can feel the excitement seeping off Cal. He can sense the echoes of a wolf-whistle ring out through his mind, and it's like. Okay, none of that shit from before matters, he's got all the validation he needs right there in Lil Cal. Maybe flex in Cal's direction, Bro?

Oh, so back to being cute: isn't it wonderful how the template maker phrased it as 'playing dolls'? But yeah, I want all the mush and everything. Bro has a whole wardrobe for Lil Cal for every minor event that occurs in the Strider household. I want them going on genuine dates. Maybe even... holding hands. Bro blushes for the first time since he was 16. He even gets to take Lil Cal with him when he goes out to DJ or put on a show. Not to mention the whole website business. (I've talked about Cal's role in that before, but I'll mention it in a moment...)

They will die in a heart shaped pool of blood: I mean, kinda did happen, even tho Lil Cal didn't perma die right there. I don't think this one needs any explanation, since it basically happens in canon.

'You should see the other guy...': Okay, so. About 11 years ago, I had a really great idea. About how smuppets enter this world. I expanded on it in the following more-recent post (adult only content lol): https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/741683686717669376/back-in-the-day-my-friends-called-me-insane-when-i

To sum it up, whenever Bro makes a new smuppet design, he then gives it a video debut on his website, where uh, Lil Cal births the smuppet like it's a horror movie scene, fake blood and poly-fil gore all over the place as the smuppet crawls out from the viscera. Bro then gets to play aftercare by lovingly and gently cleaning up and restuffing Lil Cal as they get to admire their new creation and rake in the dough lol.

So it's technically not a 'you should see the other guy' kinda situation, but it does involve one of them being... idk what word would describe it. Injured by the other? Usually a character loses a fight and says this to act like they got out of it better than the other guy, but... We could have someone knock on the door during the filming of a scene like that, and Bro has to answer it with fake blood up to his elbows, and be like 'You should see the other guy.' (But obviously, that's a terrible idea and would cause more trouble than it's worth... Maybe worth it for a persistent door to door salesperson, though.)

Though, I guess I should also say, I'm not opposed to Bro beating on Lil Cal in or out of the bedroom. Or in the case of animate Lil Cal, Cal choking out Bro. In or out of the bedroom, lol. Depends on the situation, like I said I will ship this ship any which way. But my preference for animate Lil Cal is to be like a totally normal puppet around Bro (or mushy in-love with Bro) and then evil-murder-puppet towards anyone else in Bro's life, like a... toxic yaoi guard puppet. (New Phrase Achievement Unlocked!) Bro brings home another guy to have sex, who tries to stay the night due to the late hour, but the guy wakes up shortly after to see Lil Cal standing there with a knife in the dark, eyes glowing red. Panic ensues when the guest screams and freaks out, and by the time Bro's got a light on, grabbing his sword, ready for a ninja vs ninja fight (bc an intruder would've had to bypass all the traps), Lil Cal is just innocently splayed across the desk chair, no knife in sight. Relevant post (well, the caption on the post too, saying how Bro can't seem to hold onto any relationships besides Lil Cal):

[ https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/741830516962164736/i-want-you-so-youre-mine-always-selfishly ]

Uh, lol, also Cal choking out Bro in the bedroom, adult only drawing: https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/754328907438800896/i-wouldnt-wanna-be-my-ex-when-he-found-out-who

Thinking about them always and forever: Listen. My Tumblr as proof, I've had BroCal on the brain for at least 11 years at this point. Definitely longer, since I first started reading Homestuck. I fucking love puppets and dolls and plushies and I always have. Man, if I hadn't deleted Tweets (automated app I used to do, and I couldn't choose what to save) from when I was in high school, you could've seen me @ ing my fave band when they were taking lyric suggestions on a fan-inspired album, where I was telling them 'make a song where the theme is puppets' and, while I don't know if they saw that or took the suggestion (they had responded to me before bc they weren't huge yet), there is indeed a song titled "Puppets" on that album, and it was my favourite song on there. Point is, I was fated to ship BroCal before I even knew it existed.

Sicko 2 sicko communication: I mean, does this even need explaining? Bro and Cal aren't just on the same wavelength of freaky, they're the fucking source of the wavelength, and it's causing a feedback loop between them. And it does as feedback does, which is, it amplifies with time. (Going back to the spiral symbolism here, lol.) ((Actually, time can play a symbol here, too, I guess, but idk how to word it, I'm starting to run out of steam.))

Let them have a happy ending: God, I need this so badly. I know Bro's story ends in Homestuck, but like. Pls. Someone needs to officiate their wedding. Currently placing the dreambubble order, but I can't organize a wedding by myself. OH speaking of. In that lil comic I did above, where Bro is accepting Lil Cal's proposal, I had the Natural Born Killers wedding scene in mind. I was gonna draw that as a follow up, but I think I have too many WIPs going. Just two people on the run, saying "I do" in a scenic but completely ordinary roadside location. Idk why, I keep going back to that movie for things related to Bro (I mention it in a very important scene in a longer WIP I've been writing, as something Bro watched and internalized as a kid lol.) It's not the best movie lol. Anyway.

The devotion omg: I feel like I have already gotten my point across about this, but let me reiterate:

[ https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/735842968450269184/in-the-name-of-iconic-magical-girl-anime-ill ]

Bro and Lil Cal absolutely beat the shit outta Jack Noir before he gets prototyped. And even then, they fight together till the death, like. C'mon. Nothing more romantic than fighting a losing battle side by side. Also, like, Lil Cal having his own protective chest for safekeeping as seen in the Strider living room? Like, you don't just have a protective case for any old thing, especially something meant to be handled, especially something that is regularly used to smack other things/humans. What I'm saying is, Lil Cal is durable and resilient, and yet, Bro still has a case for transporting Cal safely. Oh, wait, I just thought of something funny, what if Lil Cal goes feral like a cat, and basically the chest is like a cat carrier so Bro can drive without being constricted lmaoooo, I've been typing for hours can you tell?

Kind of homophobic: Listen. I HAD a Cal. Took him to college. Staked my claim on the top bunk bc I am royalty. Proceeded to not have anywhere to set my water cup and had to use a cardboard box as a table up there. Spilled water. Melted Cal's sharpie-drawn face. And then proceeded to cry. I have a WIP of Lil Cal 2, but that requires actually remembering to work on him. I wanna do better by the pattern, too, since I rushed to finish the first. I have all the material! I have the project started! So it's just a matter of reordering my WIP priorities, honestly.

Where is all the fucking content?!: For realzz. I was actually venting about this the other day (didn't end up posting it), but it's like, either there's no BroCal content, or there IS BroCal content, but I can't reblog it for reasons I don't want to get into on this post. I'm dying of thirst in the ocean, basically. Whatever. This just means I need to make more BroCal content myself, which I am more than happy to do. I've just had a rough past few months, so I'm glad I got to type all this post out, and hopefully I can get back to creating soon.

Last one! I hope this one makes up for the absurd length of the post, it's prob my new fave idea I just came up with on the spot.

[TW drink spiking by a stranger mentioned in this.]

Committing atrocities as their silly little activities: I think we all know what this means, but I am going to ignore that elephant with my special x-ray vision. Because this is a BroCal post. I'm digging deep to the meat and bones of this. Honestly, this could go multiple routes, it depends on how you take your Lil Cal.

One could place emphasis on the 'guard' part of the, ahem ahem, toxic yaoi guard puppet. Maybe someone is actually trying to harm Bro, and Bro legit can't do anything for reasons outside of his control - let's say his drink got spiked a while after he invited a stranger home that he thought was chill. As Bro gets shoved down on the futon, his memory of the night is only a few flickers. Familiar orange plush, roiling around above him like a dancing windsock. Flashes of Lil Cal's face all distorted and stretched wide like a funhouse. J-Lo and Ice Cube on the TV. But when Bro is finally able to fully wake up in the morning, everything is as if he just got home alone last night and passed out on the futon. Cal looks totally normal and content tucked under Bro's warm arm. Except when Bro gets up, there is a pair of shoes too big to belong to him at the door. Maybe Bro knows. Maybe instinct tells him to run. Maybe he does, but he's running towards Lil Cal, every time.

[fluentisonus]

someday i'll really internalize that forcing myself to stay up as long as it takes to do something even when it becomes very apparent its not getting done is not at all conducive to my health & happiness but until then. here we are again

[huginsmemory]

Where's that one Ford art post thats like I'm in the best years of my life clutching a hot pink thermos thingy with hot gurl juice when he's clearly not. cause damn . Yeah