#i also dont check on here nearly as much as i need too

[rasberryt0rte]

I HAD 57 NOTIFS HOLY??????????my Stardew fan art got a lot of likes y'all r real 1s !??

also youtubers life THREE announced I'm soooooo excited I love that mid series with all my heart expect imminent fan art for 2 when that game was so unpopular I considered making the wiki for it myself cause their was no details about the characters 💔💔💔💔💔

[deansbeer]

where the waves rest easy ・ DEAN WINCHESTER. ៸៸៸ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! ♡ pinned library

♡ SYNOPSIS. you and dean take the kids to the beach, where he opens up about his past, his love for you, and the life you've built together after leaving hunting behind.

♡ WARNING(S) fluff | angst | family bonding | mentions of past violence | major character death (pls dont hate me I’ll cry) | grief. mdni ♱ 18 plus. adult content.

♡ KARI NOTES. @deanswidow also contributed a tiny lil idea for this so dedicating this 2 her <3 she's dean's baby girl because it felt right 🤍 love u pooks !!!!!

IT'S BEEN TWO YEARS SINCE DEAN QUIT HUNTING.

two years since he put the colt and his sawed-off shotgun away for good. since he walked away from the life that had defined him for so long. since he said goodbye to the monsters, the blood, and the constant weight of death hanging over him.

two years since sam died.

god, you still catch him looking at the horizon sometimes, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists like he's bracing himself for something—like he's expecting the next apocalypse to come knocking at your front door. but it never does.

because dean walked away.

he walked away for you. for your family. for SAMMY, the little boy with his brother's name and his father's stubbornness. for JEMMA, the baby girl who's only been on this earth eight months and already has DEAN WINCHESTER wrapped around her tiny fingers. he walked away because he couldn't do it anymore—because burying his brother nearly killed him, and he knew if he didn't stop, he'd be burying you next. or the kids. or himself.

and you know sam would've wanted this for him. he would've wanted dean to have what they'd always dreamed about when they were kids: a home, a family, a life that wasn't overshadowed by death and duty.

so dean quit.

he got a job as a firefighter, of all things—because of course he did. being a firefighter lets him save people without the baggage of what came with hunting. it's hard work, but it's honest work, and it keeps his hands busy. it keeps his mind busy, too, most of the time. and you? you're a kindergarten teacher, which means your days are filled with crayons, storytime, and glue-sticked chaos.

it's not the life he ever thought he'd have—hell, it's not the life he ever thought he deserved—but he loves it. he loves you. he loves his kids. and even on the hard days, when the itch to hunt creeps up on him, or when he sees something on the news that makes his instincts scream at him to grab his gun, he reminds himself why he stopped. why he has to stay.

because this is worth it.

you and the kids are worth it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

it's a friday when DEAN suggests going to the beach.

you both decided to take a day off—something rare, since your lives are usually so busy between work and the kids. but today, the sun is shining, the weather's perfect, and dean woke up with that lopsided grin you love so much, the one that makes him look ten years younger.

"whaddya think?" he asks as he pours you a cup of coffee, jemma balanced on his hip like she's always belonged there. "a beach day? sammy's been talking about it all week, and i think the squirt here could use her first dip in the ocean, don't you?"

you laugh, taking the coffee from him and leaning up to kiss his cheek. "sounds perfect."

so you pack up BABY with towels, sunscreen, a cooler full of snacks, and all the other million things you need when you have two kids under three. sammy's bouncing with excitement the entire drive, and jemma babbles happily from her car seat, her chubby hands reaching for DEAN every time he glances back to check on her. what a daddy's girl.

when you finally get to the beach, the first thing you notice is how peaceful it is. it's not too crowded—just a few families scattered along the sand, kids building castles and couples lounging under umbrellas.

and you can tell the moment DEAN steps onto the sand that this place means something to him.

you've been here before, of course—this is where he proposed to you. but there's something about the way he looks at the water, the way he takes a deep breath like he's letting go of something heavy, that makes you realize just how much this spot actually means to him.

"you okay, baby?" you ask softly, slipping your hand into his.

he turns to you, and for a moment, the smile he gives you is so FULL of love it makes your chest ache. "yeah, sweetheart," he says. "just… this place. it kinda reminds me why i'm here, y'know?"

you nod, squeezing his hand. and then sammy tugs on his leg, demanding to go play in the water, and DEAN laughs, scooping him up and spinning him around before setting him down and chasing after him.

you watch them run toward the waves, and your heart feels so full it might burst.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

a little while later, you're walking along the shore with him, jemma cradled in his arms. sammy's still splashing in the water, his laughter carried on the breeze, and you can't help but smile as you watch him. he really is a miniature version of DEAN��same green eyes, same freckles, same mischievous grin.

"he's got your stubbornness, too," you say, nudging DEAN with your shoulder.

he chuckles. "yeah, well, he gets that from both of us, sweetheart. don't kid yourself."

you laugh, leaning your head against his bicep as you walk. the sand is warm beneath your feet, the waves lapping gently at the shore, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

"you remember why i proposed to you here?" he asks suddenly, his voice soft.

you look up at him, surprised. "of course i do. but i wouldn't mind hearing it again."

he smiles, his eyes distant for a moment as he looks out at the water. "it was right after we found out sammy was on the way," he says. "i was scared out of my fucking mind, if i'm being honest. not about you—about being a dad. about screwing it all up. but then we came here, and you were sitting right there"—he nods toward a spot near the water—"and you just looked so… happy. like you weren't worried about anything. and i realized that if i was gonna do this—if i was gonna have a family, a real life—it had to be with you. because you make everything better, y'know? even when it's scary. especially when it's scary."

his voice cracks a little at the end, and you blink back tears, reaching up to cup his face. "baby…"

"i mean it," he says, his voice rough. "you saved me, sweetheart. you and the kids—you're the reason i'm still here. the reason i didn't just… give up after sam."

you kiss him then, pouring everything you feel into it. he kisses you back, jemma squirming a little between you but not enough to break the moment.

when you finally pull away, you're both smiling, and for the first time in a long time, you see nothing but peace in his eyes.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

the rest of the day is spent soaking up the sun, building sandcastles, and chasing sammy around the beach. DEAN lets him bury him in the sand at one point, laughing as both SAMMY and JEMMA work together to pile sand on top of him.

"i think they're plotting against me," he says, grinning up at you from his sandy grave.

"probably," you reply, laughing as jemma pats a handful of sand onto his chest.

as the sun starts to set, dean takes both kids down to the water to look for crabs. sammy's eyes light up every time he spots one, and jemma claps her hands excitedly, even though you're pretty sure she doesn't know what's going on.

you watch them from a distance, your hand resting on your stomach. it's still early—you haven't told DEAN yet—but you know he'll be just as thrilled as you are when he finds out you're expecting again.

watching him with SAMMY and JEMMA, seeing the way he lights up around them, there's no doubt in your mind that he was meant to be a dad.

and as you sit there, watching the man you love with the family you've built together, you realize that this is what happiness looks like.

it's not perfect—it's messy and chaotic and sometimes downright exhausting—but it's yours.

and you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

later that night, after the kids are asleep and the house is quiet, DEAN pulls you into his arms.

"thank you," he whispers, his voice barely audible in the darkness.

"for what?" you ask, resting your head against his chest.

"for this," he says, his hand moving to rest over your stomach. "for giving me a reason to keep going. for giving me a family."

you smile, tears pricking at your eyes again. "you don't have to thank me for that, my love. you've given me just as much."

he presses a kiss to your forehead, holding you close. and as you drift off to sleep, you can't help but think about how far you've both come—how far he's come.

because DEAN WINCHESTER may have walked away from hunting, but he's still a hero.

he's YOUR hero.

and he always will be.

♡ SPECIAL TAGS. @beausling @a1ecmcdowell @jasvtsc @titsout4nicholas @aileenunfiltered @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @archiveofvirtue @ultravi0lence14 @rubyvhs @ohsc . . . ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

[daisymbin]

secrets at dawn - lee chan

warnings: none! fluff

pairings: lee chan x reader

genre: drunken confessions ~

wc: 1.1k

a/n: FUCK HYBE

drunken confessions series

check out my main masterlist! // chan's m.list

it was well past midnight when you finally managed to get chan back to your place. he’d had way more to drink than anyone had expected, and the whole way there, he’d been stumbling, muttering half-coherent nonsense and trying to convince you he could walk on his own; which, clearly, he could not.

“come on, chan, we’re almost there,” you coaxed, balancing him as you pushed open the door to your apartment.

he blinked at you, squinting like he was trying to make sense of your face in the dim light. “who… who are you? why have you been following me and holding my arm?” he slurred, eyebrows scrunching in suspicion as he leaned away like you were a stranger.

you held back a laugh. “it’s me, your best friend, the one who’s been trying to get you home for the past 30 minutes?”

“nuh-uh,” he said, pulling his arm out of your grasp and wobbling dramatically. “i… i don’t talk to strangers. especially strangers trying to drag me to… mysterious places.”

“mysterious?” you laughed, gesturing around at your very normal apartment. “chan, this is my place. you’ve been here a million times.”

he blinked, looking around with a dazed expression, as if he were seeing your apartment for the first time. “then why dont i remember it? this doesn’t look… familiar..i've definitely never been here..” he mumbled, still staring in exaggerated confusion.

you rolled your eyes, tugging him toward the couch. “come on, let’s sit you down before you pass out in the middle of the floor.”

but chan, despite the clear need for support, looked at your hand on his arm like it was lava, yanking himself away with as much grace as his inebriated state allowed. “no, no, i can’t… she wouldn’t like that.”

“she?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, your heart sinking a little. a rush of jealousy washed over you at the thought of him liking someone else. “who’s ‘she’?”

he crossed his arms, puffing up his chest in exaggerated importance. “someone very important. way too important for… for… uh… whatever this is.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his antics, but the knot in your stomach tightened. “alright then, mystery man. who is this ‘very important’ person?”

he looked around suspiciously, leaning in as if he were about to tell you a great secret. “she’s… she’s perfect. the kind of perfect you… you don’t even believe is real.” he let out a dreamy sigh, sinking onto the couch like he was melting at the thought of her.

you held back a laugh, but the jealousy gnawed at you. “really? so what makes her so special?”

“she’s… she’s got this smile, right? and it’s… it’s like…” he trailed off, gesturing wildly as he tried to find the right words. “it’s like sunshine, but also like… i dunno, like fireworks? but soft fireworks, the kind that don’t explode too loud.”

“soft fireworks,” you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady. “sounds like someone pretty amazing.”

he nodded, entirely serious. “she’s amazing. way better than some random person trying to… take advantage of me when i’m defenseless.”

“oh, come on,” you said, forcing a lightness into your tone as you tried to mask your disappointment. “and, for the record, i’m not exactly a stranger, or am I trying to take advantage of you."

he squinted, his face scrunching up as he leaned closer, studying you with utmost suspicion. “you kinda look like her, you know?”

“is that so?” you asked, the jealousy bubbling up again. “well, maybe you should just tell her how you feel.”

his eyes widened, and he immediately looked horrified. “no way! she’d… she’d think i was ridiculous.” he shook his head vigorously, nearly toppling over from the movement.

“oh, i don’t know,” you teased, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. “sounds like maybe she’d find it sweet.”

“nope,” he insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. “she’s way too good for… for someone like me.”

your heart sank a little further. “well, maybe she wouldn’t think that if you actually told her,” you replied, your voice quieter now.

“you really think so?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. “even… even with all my weird jokes?”

“yeah,” you said softly, though it felt hard to keep that positivity up. “i think so.”

for a moment, he just stared at you, his face so full of hope and something else; something warmer, more real. and then, just as quickly as it had softened, his expression turned defensive again, and he scooted away, crossing his arms.

“no! no, no, no. you’re trying to… to mess with me,” he said, clearly wrestling with his alcohol-induced haze. “she’s the only one for me, and you can’t change my mind!”

“wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, trying so hard to mask your sinking heart.

he gave you one last defiant look before settling back against the couch, closing his eyes. “good. ‘cause one day… i’m gonna tell her. i’ll tell her… and maybe she’ll laugh at me, but… but that’s okay.”

“that sounds like a great plan, chan,” you murmured, leaning back beside him, your smile softening as you watched him drift off, still muttering about his “perfect girl” and his plan to “sweep her off her feet.”

just as his breathing evened out, he mumbled one last thing, barely audible. “she… kinda even smells like you…”

you blinked, your heart racing at his words. “wait, what? who does?”

he opened his eyes slightly, looking almost sheepish. “the girl… the one i like,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “she’s… she’s just… everything. i mean, you’re basically her. but, you know, way better.”

your heart swelled with confusion and joy, a mixture of emotions washing over you. “chan, are you… are you talking about me?”

“no! you're not her…my best friend…you're not my best friend.....y/n…I like her. I like her a lot. I think I love her..but she doesn't know yet. maybe tomorrow I'll tell her…yeah I will. I will tell her tomorrow.” he answered as his voice trails off as he drifts to sleep. you all but sat dumbfounded beside a lightly snoring chan, your hand still in his.

[armor-goblin]

okay given how fucking weird and rapid-fire everything is (already, has been for ages) and to remind myself too: We Need To Learn To Fact Check.

i am talking about anything we see about trumps antics and I am talking about international news and I am talking about local news and I am talking about nearly everything in our lives. it is tiring, and takes more effort. but i think this is the only way we get thru the world right now, is by checking what we share however we can. it won't guarantee we are sharing only accurate info, but it DOES help us focus on sharing more accurate stuff and not buying into mis and disinfo.

Context/why i know this: im an academic librarian. I teach classes and do research on misinformation and media literacy among other topics, and i teach about authority of information and finding and evaluating info all the time. when I teach people to evaluate information i use Mike Caulfield's SIFT method, which is great and adaptable, and consists of these four moves:

STOP. this is the most important one. it just means: take two seconds before you click reblog or share smth. ask yourself: what is my emotional reaction to this content? what does it want me to do with this post or information?

do I know this is true - bc I've already checked into it before or I know something related to it that corroborates it - or am I far enough removed from the situation that I don't really know? for ex: I know gazans fundraise on tumblr bc i have tunblr, and that conditions in gaza are awful bc of both user posts and news coverage I've seen. I don't have tiktok or see much from it that isnt reposted, so I paused more before sharing that last post bc im less aware of the cjrcumstances.

INVESTIGATE THE SOURCE. where did this come from and do I know that source of information? can i identify the author not just the website it was shared from? what position is this person in to know what's going on? they might have expertise, education, a job, they might also just be in a place where things are happening (ukraine, gaza, los angeles, etc) or have access to a place where things are happening (tiktok, for ex).

FIND ADDITIONAL COVERAGE. if this is the only place you've heard about an event or statement, look and see if there are others reporting on it. sometimes you are looking for broad coverage (lots and lots of reporters and civilians have reported on the conditions in Gaza independently) and sometimes for very specific coverage (i wanted to see more than one screenshot of the TikTok ban msg before I believed it was real), but what you really want is to see if others are talking about and reporting on something.

this is called lateral reading btw and it's a really critical piece of fact checking.

TRACE CLAIMS TO THEIR SOURCE. who was the first to say this? where did they say it? was it misinterpreted along the way? the internet is a giant game of telephone and messages get distorted. this one is particularly important if you're not finding additional coverage AND/OR if the coverage is all weirdly samey.

highly specific example here: in 2020 there was a brief time when ppl were saying that ibuprofen was dangerous for covid and could heighten your risk. i am ibuprofens georg and I was on it 2x/day high dose at the time, so this could be a problem for me. so I started citations tracing - following citations and references and news posts and academic preprints. and finally found a brief and uncited Twitter post from a French health minister that appeared to be the original source, and along the way I found NO other corroborating info that wasn't citing that specific quote in the end. and thus. I took my ibuprofen.

this part takes time and effort more than anything else, but it's also often illuminating. I dont always go all the way to TRACE. but I have that move in my pocket for when I need to. it is very similar to a wikipedia rabbit hole where you start somewhere and end somewhere very different - but if you looked at your browser history you'd see all the pages you clicked to get there.

thats SIFT! you don't have to do each move for every post u see. if you take anything as a habit, start from the top and just STOP for a second before you share or repeat something wild. ask yourself about it a little. this is what i consider the most vital step, and it makes it easier to do the others in time.

we can't know everything. we will sometimes share misinformation by accident. we will sometimes share malicious disinformation by accident too. but I think we owe it to ourselves to try and build these habits, and it makes it a little harder for the people in power to convince us of whatever they want this week. it makes us more skeptical and more informed. these are always relevant skills and they're more and more important every day.

[millyphobic]

꩜ .ᐟ IN HIS DEFENSE... ★ FT. DAD! LEON KENNEDY

── .✦ "It's only normal his brain went haywire at the sight of you, even if you were his own flesh and blood. Right?"

wc :: 1.4k

cw :: dddne, dad-daughter incest, fem!reader, panty stealing, very pervy and pathetic leon, male masturbation, extremely shitty porn titles, one? serious reference of suicide towards the end, probably spelling mistakes galore here idk anymore

note :: hi! I DONT CONDONE THIS IRL. moving on. also if you don't like this, dont read this and block me; it's as simple as that. this shouldnt come as surprising to see on my blog since it says in my pinned that there will be dark content here. but anyways, im surprised I actually wrote this and just didn't get lazy

Leon needs to be executed via firing squad. Forced to his knees one last time by as group of men but instead of a cumshot he just gets shot in the head.

But that's far into the future. Hopefully. Maybe.

"Dad! Are you even listening?" You sigh and poke him on the side of his face, your nose all scrunched up like he was a homeless man and not your father. Which at the moment, he wishes he was just a random homeless man and not your father.

"There's nothing behind that shit. Put it back," you huff, jabbing a thumb at the dryer he moved out of place so you can check behind it. Because after doing a load of laundry, you finally caught onto the fact your panties have been going missing.

It only took you a month to figure that out. At least you haven't connected the dots to figure out he was the one taking them.

In his defense, you came back from college as a total babe. Picked up the ways of sorority girls or something because you showed up at his door for summer break in miniskirts and tube tops with your tits nearly spilling out of the fabric. A lonely, divorced man like him was now graced with the presence of a girl that could have walked out of his favorite porno. It's only normal his brain went haywire at the sight of you after all this time, even if you were his own flesh and blood.

Right?

"I'm sorry, baby, but I don't know what to tell you." He clicks his tongue and acts all confused for you, even offering a head tilt like some stupid mutt. Funny enough, he's a pretty decent liar when he needs to be. He pushes the dryer back into place, swearing under his breath about some shits too fucking heavy or whatever, leaning against the machine and groaning from the dull ache in his back.

"Maybe I can give you some money to buy some new ones?" He offers, wanting to switch the topic before guilt starts creeping up on him and makes him a stuttering idiot. "You know Daddy can get you whatever you want? It's just one pair of underwear, right?"

"No, actually," you counter, folding your arms over your chest. Makes your tits squeeze together nicely in that stupidly small crop top of yours and his eyes wander. Only for a second, though, before they snap back to your annoyed face.

"I think at least five have gone missing."

Okay, he did not take that many. Or did he?

"That's so weird. Don't know how that can be happening." He lies through his teeth, and yup, he can feel the familiar stab of shame in his lower ribs as he speaks. Maybe he should just take himself out before he can do worse to you.

You just shake your hand and wave him off, already making your way out of the basement by climbing up the stairs.

"Just make sure some pervert isn't breaking into here or something. I'm gonna kill myself if some creep is using my clothes to jerk off."

...

It's a good thing you are clueless, then.

Leon is addicted to a lot of things. Alcohol. Porn. Especially porn. His taste has changed over the years but there's always been a level of depravity in what he's watched that he can't seem to shake off.

From Busty Milf takes her Loser Son's Virginity to Daddy SLAMS his Little Girl while she Cries. Even the occasional Bitch Boy gets Torn Up by Gross Perv when he's shitfaced and thinks of Krauser a little too much in all the wrong ways.

But after going through Motherless with a fine-toothed comb, most of the videos he watched nowadays have a very ugly word in their titles. It's like a swear word at this point, one that leaves a nasty taste in his mouth. Like the bar soap his mom would shove in his mouth when he said something bad.

Son, you can't say the "I" word! That's a sin you know, loving your family in the wrong way.

If there’s such thing as hell, he’s going to be stuck with the devil himself.

It’s midnight. He can hear you snoring in your childhood room with all your fluffy blankets and army of plushies he bought you over the years, so loud that he wonders if you’re actually okay. It must be a genetic thing because he snores just as loudly, if not louder.

Just thinking about your similarities makes him feel even sicker.

He’s got his laptop propped on in his lap and lo and behold, your dirtied panties in your hand. Already used, dried cum crusted on the gussets.

Sweats pulled down enough for his stiff cock to rest against his abdomen, he feverishly browses the porn site for “the right” video. He could stop but at the same time, he just can’t. He’s too far gone, too deep into murky waters to stop now. Can’t get off the vanilla shit anymore, all it does is make him sleepy.

The thought of you, the fantasy of having you, is his new high. And as he clicks on a grainy old vid saying something along the lines of real dad and daughter, your panties are like the purest form of coke as he takes a deep breath of your scent.

It's been a day since he's taken this pair, his latest steal from you, and yet most quickly dirtied. Snatched right up from your laundry basket after you went out for some errands in the summer heat, sweat and musk permeated into the pretty white cotton. He knew he fucked up the moment he had them in his hands, knowing you'd easily notice their absence since it was less than a day since you wore them. But...he just didn't care enough at the moment to think rationally.

While you showered he had the scrap of fabric wrapped around his cock as he jerked himself off so hard and fast, it hurt. He knew he deserved that pain; he knew he deserved worse. But the pleasure that followed after he came was too good, even when he cried and even when he had to wipe his tears away to greet you after your shower.

Guilt. Shame. It lingers. It stains. But it's not enough to get him to stop. Leon has a routine at this point: eyes fixed on his laptop screen and watching some girl get fucked silly, take quick puffs of your panties, and squeeze his dick to make himself cum as fast as he could. It's animistic how he gets himself off, the pain and the pleasure a punishing sensation he couldn't resist.

When did he fall so low? Perving on his own daughter? Sure, he didn't raise you all that much with running around all for the government but still. He was there when you were born and graduated high school. But that all felt like years ago with a whole other person. You left with a round baby face and came back looking so different.

Sharper in spirit. Sharper in attitude. All scowls and side eyes and stink faces. The clothes got smaller, your voice got firmer, and your personality got a factory reset. Now, you're just a textbook definition of a brat.

You're a different person in Leon's eyes. That's what he told himself as he suckles on the gussets of your undies to get just a taste of your cunt, barely able to keep back the whines rumbling in the back of his throat. Your scent has him intoxicated, the sweet musk making his morals nonexistent. All he can do was stare at his laptop screen in borderline envy, wishing he was having depraved sex with you and not this random couple. They're ugly anyways. They're probably not even related.

They're all liars, fucking dirty ass liars who just want to ruin his mind. That's right. He can't control the way he feels about his daughter but these people can control what incest bullshit they put out there.

Sick fucks, all of them are sick fucks!

Leon's orgasm takes him by surprise. It's sudden and raw and has him all frazzled. He can barely stop himself from jutting his hips off the bed and spilling all over his hand and stomach, your underwear held so firmly to his face he is fairly sure he was trying to suffocate himself there. He even whimpers like a bitch, sounding even more pathetic than he already is.

It takes a handful of deep breaths to steady himself, or somewhat breaths of air since he can't bring himself to pull your panties away from his nose. Dick's all soft in his hand but he's frozen, the porno ending and automatically rolling into something different.

Stepdaddy fucking beautiful teen daughter !!!

Tomorrow Leon will leave enough money to buy the best pairs of underwear for you on the kitchen counter. And then he's going to kill himself right in the front yard.

[moth-bells]

Hi so, I dont know whenever I'm gonna be able to write or draw anything I like for my cryptids au, so I'm going to give you all literally all the lore and if I ever get to it, its already here.

It also doesnt always make perfect sense but I think that gives it charm and I'm not gonna run around in circles trying to make it perfect Gonna try and make this generally in timeline of events order

The earth is formed. From the dust of star dust rises two figures

They have no names and they were never born, forming from things they do not understand, yet know all too well

They are always at one another's side

They are both everything and nothing to one another

They witness eons together

Watching little specks shift and change and grow

They watch life and ease life along with hands that do what is needed without thought behind how it happens

They have purpose yet none here, witnesses

The duo watch as the earth fills with life only for it all to nearly vanish

They watch life persevere despite that

Those first peculiar humans, though without that name yet, come to be. So small and fragile, yet the two can see potential with these ones

They travel the globe, checking in on different places, seeing how the people so similar are slowly changing. They find it fascinating, though they feel this with other animals

One day, they realize many of these people that they've visited, perhaps assisted at times, and occasionally revisited, have places of worship

Neither of them understand, but they gather that these humans seem to look at them as higher than them. Gods.

Are they? They arent living in the same way as other beings. They cant die. They dont age and were never born.

If not gods, what are they then?

They dont know.

They do eventually move on, but one day, an unknown amount of years later, they return to one of these villages

The people, they do rejoice for their deities have graced them again

The duo decided to linger here longer than before.

One day, theres murmurs of malcontent floating

The two have witnessed battles, but stayed out of them.

They had never watched wars begin, the quiet wisps of smoke that would soon become flames

Now these two, unnatural as they are, were not infinitely strong.

Yes, they were stronger than many of these small humans, who were much smaller than them

But, if there were many humans against one of them, there was only so much that they could do

The humans, separated into factions, decided that one of the duo were a true god while the other was something evil and wrong.

Such is the way of humanity

The two realized they might have stayed too long now, deciding it was time to leave

It was too late for that now.

These two beings, nameless, named and renamed by many, but never calling each other by any.

Two who had been together since they were glints in an existence less universe

Were separated

Humans from either side took their 'rightful' god. Determined to use their worship against the other side.

The two beings were able to take some of them, desperately trying to not be taken away from the other.

They were not gods, though, not in the way these humans thought.

What they were was unknowable, but they still were not ever powerful.

With enough force, they were dragged away by the people who once looked at them equally

The one yellow as pollen was taken into a deep cavernous temple, locked into the darkness, with nothing within it. No escape. The entrance to this prison was sealed with a boulder.

He screamed for them to release him, but his words, something only his other understood, fell on deaf ears.

He pushed and clawed at the rock, but it was too heavy

These people believed their worship of isolation and fasting was pure and accepted by their god.

The other was left to a fate less horrendous, but equally lonely.

Tossed down into a pit, deep with only a manmade covering to hide it.

He as well demanded to be freed, but none of that was to come

These humans worshipped the sky at night that this being reminded them of, that being the only thing that he could see from his prison, though there was also a reminder in the daylight of who he was missing

The humans dropped food of animals down to him.

They werent able to starve to death, nor did they need to eat in the way animals and living things did, but it would give them extra energy if they needed it. No, they took in the rays of the star above them.

So, with the one in the pit, he received more that enough to keep him mobile.

The one in the cave, however...

centuries passed. Thousands and thousands of years

And they who have been here since before time itself, before knowing that of light and space and earth and death

They changed

Slowly, over time, of desperation and madness, and forces they themselves would never truly understand

They changed.

The cavern, where slowly less and less voices of prayer came, lost to a memory

Where eyes as blue as the sky became milky white

Where his mind grew blank with bleakness and its voice lost all form of words

Body became sharp and thin and twisted

Claws and teeth long and sharp.

In the pit, staring up at day and night as blood, and bodies of animal sacrifice fell upon him

One day, he accepted them, hoping for the strength needed to climb free

Eventually, it forgot why it was even down there.

And then the food stopped coming.

It had spent years and years, copying the shrieks and cries of a wounded animal, luring certain animals to the wide spaced grate above

It never felt hunger but it ached for the blood and rush that the meal provided

Its body became more wild, more dangerous

For some years its back ached until there was a weak flap of wings

Wings.

W i n g s.

Freedom.

The other was still trapped for sometime, having long forgotten what it was. What it was missing. Neither could remember but they could feel it

It would be sheer luck that some unfortunate children, merely teenagers, would come to that stone that their ancestors had made and laid there, not just a myth among them now.

That a god lay in the cave, dangerous and angry, locked away when it tried to turn against the people that worshiped it...or so they say the story goes

It would be their misfortune as they struggled to move the circular rock, that light from the evening setting sun would start to peek through inside

And something would come leaping out at them.

They fled from the monster, leaving one screaming to their fate to the creature so starved.

After, once its frenzy ended, it luckily took off into the forest surrounding it, away from the pain of the sun on its wide white eyes

It was fate, it would seem that they would find one another again

So changed by time and humanities unknowing cruelties

More animal than whatever they may have been to begin with

The winged one had found it one day, though not knowing fully why it was pulled toward it

The blind one, having changed even more in these years of freedom, lashed out at the new arrival

This, in turn, made the winged one defend itself.

They fought, clicking and screeching at one another until the teeth were dug into fur

Something clicked in this mindless mind that this thing was the same as itself.

They backed away from one another

Slowly, they reapproached...they chirred and cooed and inspected one another. One with sight the other with smell.

And they laid down together for the first time in forever

They wandered for some years, avoiding the creatures they felt compelled to hide from.

Until one day..

A small little voice spoke up at the blind one, not screaming or attacking with things that hurt

"Puppy..?"

[revalition]

OCT 11 - AUTHORITY Intimidate the public. Assert yourself. authority!! my guy! I love *and* hate him very much! he's such a guy.

this is late because I spent too much time yesterday writing about him and not enough time drawing him. oops. that's also why it's so ugly but it's okay. someday I'll draw something good and you'll all be very impressed. we'll see if I can get EdC in today too or not!

and ty red for giving me your authority's wings haha, theyre soo cool. ough I love wings. if someone sent me an ask saying "draw [skill] with wings" I would be all over that so fasttt

anyway! lots of content under the cut as usual!

authority quotes!

anti sorry cop authority!! harry desperately needs someone to tell him to stop apologizing for existing... but in the second case, volition is right (as usual)

a wonderful classic here

gotta include these ofc

authority NO.

this line is just. how I image he is constantly. the millisecond your authority is questioned in the slightest he gets like this.

re. arresting klaasje

authority stopping you from being very embarrassing!

NO. no authority. there's SO many lines like this. sigh

authority seems to be a nearly perfect 50/50 split of good advice and bad advice. it's great. it's fascinating

authority and volition. authority and volitionnn. you are going to hear about the motor carriage story and there's no getting off.

rare sweet authority moment! (this heals morale too!)

realllly love this one too <3

authority, cmon man...

this guy. this guy... he's so... I don't know. he's sure something

authority CONFIRMED COMPROMISED. also authority being mean to soft little suggestion is always very funny to me

he is compromised though

hghhk this line from the authority fail. you get after failing *four* times. my first playthrough I had high authority - I had 6 PSY to start, and authority boosting clothes. and I just kept failing and failing. and every time I failed this check I had to dump another point into authority to try it again... so it was *really* high by the end! but I just kept failing it!! it was so painful... by the fourth fail you can finally beg kim to take over...

on the topic of awful authority fails! we need to acknowledge: - the authority check to get kim to dance - the authority check to save kim from getting shot - the authority check to make acele wear the hat

including it so we can enjoy authority making things worse and worse

alternatively, succeeding the check. eugh. (you dont have to kick the snow. but the fact that it's an option at all...)

I passed the check my first playthrough and failed it my second. there's really no good outcome to clicking it... except harry can get a good cry out of the fail, I guess

this seems like a good place to include the mandatory sad dream dialogue. that way we feel less bad for him since we got to just see him being stupid

now we know! tobacco wards off narco spirits, and alcohol discourages use of... narcohol. wonderful!

you know it's bad when it's too much even for authority haha

authority giving better advice than volition one time??? this is if you have cuno at the end, when you meet up with your posse. persisting with insisting on the phasmid isn't productive at all

live authority reaction to harry being told no to anything ever

low stakes authority fail haha

here's another one! not all authority fails are world-endingly bad

another one. sigh. authority. NO.

and there is soo much honour points dialogue I couldn't fit in here! the first time I got the honour cop thought bubble I was like, wow! I'm never listening to anything this skill says ever again!

the thought gives you -4 !!!! to drama! because lying is dishonourable. and then if you lie to kim about what you were doing he tells you it was an honourable lie. hypocrite. (and there is a dialogue where he says "Are you going to let him get away with being a hypocrite?" so that really makes auth a double hypocrite)

I love and hate authority in perfectly equal amounts. they don't cancel eachother out either, I just feel very strongly about him instead. I also feel very strongly about Volition, and their interactions are always fascinating. so I end up smushing them together, going fight! (and kiss!) and fight! like the extremely normal person I am. yep. you're welcome.

I could probably write half an essay my thoughts on their dynamic so I'm going to stop myself now before I have regrets :)

authority is in my favourite skills list for sure, but due to his serious personality issues I can't figure out where he places <3

[aku-soul]

WARNING P5R SPOILERS AHEAD GO PLAY THE GAME FOR YOURSELF AND SKIP THIS POST IF YOU DONT WANNA BE SPOILED

So anyways I finished persona 5 royal a couple days ago, here's my thoughts:

Absolutely amazing game, I loved it so dang much and I'm so sad it's over. And now, onto the character reviews

Ren Amamiya (protag): It's me! But man do I feel even worse for what he had to go through. Seriously, going to jail twice, temporarily losing his memory and hoping that he would get stuff right... Dude the scene where akechi shot me gave me chills it was done so well. I was seriously about to cry thinking I messed up. Also, if I was joker at the end of sem 3 after I graduated I would immediately come back to leblanc because coffee dad duh.

Sojiro Sakura: HE CALLED ME FAMILY, COFFEE DAD CALLED ME FAMILY OH MY GOD BEST DAY EVER. I love dad so much. It was so sweet when he cried after I left, that almost made me cry too.

Ann Takamaki: Yeah she sure does exist, uh huh. I barely interacted with her... I don't think her phantom thief outfit helped at all with that issue.

Morgana: Congrats on finally becoming human for a while dude. Also him being part of the velvet room was not something I expected. At all. Also when he was about to disappear I almost freaking cried what the hell. You can't do that to me game. AND THEY DID IT TWICE. Those scenes made me realize how much I actually care for morgana the cat (cue "I AM NOT A CAT")

Futaba: SISTER SHE IS MY SISTER! I am going to feel so weird when I romance her for completions sake... I love the bond her and I have as siblings. She did such a good job growing up within such a short amount of time, I am so proud. Also holy hell was she smart with the akechi phone thing. No wonder she did something so out of character in that moment.

Makoto: I am going to beat up Eiko's boyfriend so hard. I never finished her story though, I got up to level 8 with her. Eh whatever there's always next playthrough. Her heals are pretty good, to bad I hardly ever use her.

Igor (both false and real): Dude I could not get over the real igors voice, please give me back the fake igors voice that one sounded so much better seriously. Also I checked and igor is indeed voiced by dad from fe3h love that. The boss fight for him though freaking sucked, like can you please stop giving my cat lust with your gun, seriously?

Haru: I'm gonna be completely honest, I didn't start her confidant till like 5 days before the final battle because I thought I'd need her for true ending (I thought true ending required all confidants, better save than sorry). Honestly, no real opinion on her. She certainly does exist. I wonder if the vegetables she grows are any good... If they're for sp that'd be nice because sp recovery items are so hard to come by.

The twins (and lavenza): Dude I nearly cried when I had to execute the twins, it felt so sad. But hey, at least I got lavenza out of it. I'm guessing she's the one who wrote the list then. Also her avatar in persona 5 tactica is so cute.

Ichiko: Drunk aunt type. I got close to finishing her storyline but didn't. Whatever. I hate how she's an option for romance but my harem bois aren't??? What is this atrocity.

Kawakami: Yeah look I don't care if you're getting threatened by the mafia or loan sharks or whatever. Please stop texting me "Hello master!" when you said yourself you don't want the history on my phone to be available. I only got two things in because my god am I super uncomfortable with calling my teacher up for maid services...

Hifumi: If I didn't hc joker as super gay for my harem bois (I will explain who those people are later) she'd probably be the one I'd ship him with. I like her a lot honestly, she might be my favorite romanceable option.

Tae Takemi: Her ex boss fucking sucks, get off your high horse dude. At least we managed to change his heart and get her back on track. I'm hc'ing miwa chan as continuing to visit Tae even after she gets better and eventually following in Tae's footsteps and helps out around the clinic.

Iwai: GUN UNCLE GUN UNCLE. Him giving me a gecko at the end had me tearing up. He considers me family too oh my god. Also hell yeah I got a cousin out of that deal. I love uncle Iwai so much.

Mishima: I maxed him out and then promptly forgot about him. Seriously, when the scene of him petitioning for signatures happened I immediately thought "oh shit yeah mishima is a person who exists". Sorry mishima...

Yoshida: Yeah, I started him and that was about it. I really don't care about him at all if I'm being honest. I will have to eventually level him up though... Next playthrough

Shinya: Woo younger brother alert. I'm so proud that he gave back the money he took from other kids and apologized too. Good job Shinya, you did good.

Maruki: Ugh his character arc was so good. Dude the 2/2 reveal broke my heart I was so tempted to take the offer, but I knew I couldn't. But dude. Why are you a taxi driver at the end. What is the reason for that what.

Ryuji: HAREM BOI NUMBER ONE BABY!!!! The numbers don't matter it's just when we got introduced to em. I love him so much. In tactica I was able to "marry" him and I was so excited that I took screenshots. Dude when he saved us in shido's palace and we thought he died I almost cried. I love Ryuji so much.

Yusuke: HAREM BOI NUMBER TWO BABY!!!! He is so gay I love him. At the end when he gave me his painting I teared up. I absolutely love him so much. A great addition to the harem bois. Best artist boi.

Akechi: WHY MY GUY FUCKING WHY! HAREM BOI NUMBER THREE!!!! You were the reason why I was so tempted to take Maruki's offer, don't treat your life as if it was nothing. Also you don't hate me you love me admit it. Robbie Daymon does such a good job on everday akechi I love it so much. I leveled him up as soon as I could. Also because of the ending he's still alive and no one can change my mind, I *need* him to be alive. Dude I bougth tactica and the dlc just so I could see him again. I love akechi so freaking much. Also his official va and joker's official va made a cover song together and it's so good I am obsessed and I have seen some good things made out of it.

I think that's all? If anyone wants me to give my opinion on anyone else I will. Anyways back to playing tactica and once I finish that it's onto strikers

[devildom-moss]

SIMBARB HURT/COMFORT.

That's all!

Remember to eat, sleep and dont do drugs!

Sincerely, 💜

This one was a little vague, so hopefully you like it 💜anon, and thank you for the request. I wasn't sure what to write at first, but I think it ended up pretty cute. (also I really hope you meant Simeon x Barbatos without MC, because that's what I wrote). I hope you didn't want heavy angst because this ended up so soft.

SimBarb hurt/comfort

(Barbatos x Simeon)

(mentions of slight physical injury) (fluff)

Word Count: +1,600

There was an unusual subtle ache in every muscle of Barbatos’s body when he woke up that morning. The pain concentrated in his throat, which felt drier than usual. He forced himself out of bed and got something to drink, holding onto a weak, fragile hope that collapsed into a void when his morning tea did nothing to soothe his throat. Barbatos sighed, blowing the steam out from his cup. He was sick.

It wasn’t just the sudden illness that annoyed Barbatos, it was the fact that he got sick the very day that Simeon had planned to visit the castle. Barbatos had spent the last three days working harder than ever to ensure he could spend a peaceful afternoon alone with Simeon. He had done everything except make the snacks he was going to serve with tea that afternoon. His mind had spent days imagining long, intimate conversations and a leisurely walk. If they could find some peace and if Barbatos could make his move, maybe they would have some time to get intimate in a more physical sense. Well, there’s nothing to be done now, he figured.

Barbatos went to the supply closet and grabbed a mask. He could have sent a message to Simeon and canceled their plans. He could have informed Diavolo and taken the day off to rest. He could have done a half-dozen other things than washing up and preparing the food he planned to make. As long as he wore the mask and avoided infecting the food, it would be fine; that was the rationalization Barbatos allowed himself. After all, Simeon always enjoyed the sweets he made, and Barbatos would hate to disappoint him. It didn’t matter how much slower he seemed to be moving, either; Barbatos still had a few hours until Simeon arrived – or, at least, he thought he did.

“Good morning, Barbatos,” Simeon peaked into the kitchen. Barbatos had been facing away from the doorway, and he jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion; he was certain he had more time. Simeon laughed sweetly and explained, “I’m sorry to surprise you. I met Diavolo on the way in, so I didn’t have a chance to ring the door. I know I’m early, but when I checked the weather, I noticed that it was scheduled to start raining soon, and I wanted to beat the rain. I forgot to tell you since I was in such a rush.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m glad you made it before the rain hit,” Barbatos spoke, muffled through his mask. He looked over his shoulder at Simeon – careful not to stare too long at the angel.

Simeon heard the muffled speech and saw the glimpse of a mask. He groaned, displeased, and approached the demon. “Barbatos, are you sick?”

“Slightly, it seems, but I’ll manage.”

“Barbatos,” Simeon sighed disapprovingly, “you should stop and get some rest. What in the Devildom are you doing in the kitchen? If something needs to be done, tell me, and I’ll take care of it for you.”

“I’m afraid I must decline your offer. I’m fine – simply not in top form. You needn’t worry. I’m nearly done here.”

Simeon glanced down at the tartlets on the counter. Barbatos grabbed a fresh blood red plum and cut it open. He took half of the plum in his hand and expertly pitted it with the tip of his knife. Simeon watched on in pity.

Without so much as a tickle in his throat to warn him, Barbatos was overcome by a coughing fit that caused him to jolt and slice his palm open, cutting through his glove and a layer of flesh. Simeon gasped and rushed Barbatos to the sink, pulling him by the wrist.

“Simeon, I can –” Barbatos started, but he cut himself off when Simeon looked up at him with a serious gaze – one that chilled Barbatos to the core and warned him not to protest. Simeon removed the glove and ran Barbatos’s hand under the sink until the water ran clear. Through the sting, as slight as it was, Barbatos refused to react or show any sign of pain.

“Do you have a clean rag?” Simeon glanced around the kitchen.

“Second drawer from the top next to the fridge.” Simeon left Barbatos holding his hand over the sink while he fetched the cloth.

He brought the dirty knife and the rag back with him, setting the knife in the sink to be washed later. With a gentle, angelic touch, Simeon pressed the rag directly onto the cut. The first thing Simeon noticed was how warm the palm of Barbatos’s hand was. Pulling his attention back from that warmth, Simeon asked, “You have a first-aid kit in your room, right?”

“Of course, but there’s one in the pantry as well,” Barbatos informed him, although reluctantly. There was no need for Simeon to worry so much over something this insignificant.

“Yes, but we should get you bandaged up in your room.” Simeon smiled sheepishly at Barbatos, who felt his face burn from the suggestive nature of his thoughts, only to be humiliated by his presumption when Simeon added, “You dripped a bit of blood onto your sleeve, and you’ll probably want a new glove once you’re all patched up.”

“Oh.” Barbatos looked down to see a few spots of blood staining his clothes. He nodded slowly. “You’re right.”

“Keep this pressed to your palm as we walk to your room – unless you want me to hold your hand the entire way there.” Simeon nudged Barbatos towards the door.

“I am capable of walking to my room on my own.”

“Yes, I know, but I’m going to tend to the cut for you.”

“I can dress my own wounds,” Barbatos protested.

“Yes, you can, but I can, too. Let me do this for you.”

Once inside his room, Barbatos pointed out his first-aid kit for Simeon and sat on the bed patiently. Simeon joined him and offered his hand, palm up and expecting, waiting to cradle Barbatos’s injured hand. At least Simeon had the kindness to not warn Barbatos of a potential sting as he pressed an alcohol swab to the cut – to allow Barbatos the dignity of presumed knowledge and anticipation. Barbatos sat, quiet and still, through the process.

“Tell me if it’s too tight,” Simeon instructed Barbatos as he began slowly wrapping gauze around his hand. When he finished, he kept Barbatos’s hand in his and caressed along the side of the wrap softly with his thumb. “Is it okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” Barbatos offered him a smile that stayed disguised behind the mask. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

“I know.” Simeon lowered his head and kissed the palm of Barbatos’s hand, then left another kiss on his wrist. Barbatos felt his face burn at the show of tenderness. So rarely had he been at the receiving end of doting affection that he found himself unnaturally flustered. Simeon looked up at him with a sickly sweetness. “You should learn how to allow someone to take care of you, Barbatos.”

“I’m trying,” he admitted – half humiliated to be loved.

“Take off your shirt,” Simeon instructed him.

“Pardon?” Barbatos’s eyes widened.

Simeon laughed, knowing he had successfully caused a stir in Barbatos. “I’ll wash it with your glove before I make some soup for you – assuming I have permission to make use of your kitchen.”

“You always have permission to access the kitchen, but –”

“Excellent,” Simeon cut him off. “The last time Luke got sick, I made him some soup that soothed his sore throat and cleared up his sinuses. I’m not sure if you’ll have all the ingredients, but I can go to the market if I have to. Now, that shirt?”

Barbatos sighed and began to undo his coat before unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m well enough to do laundry and cook.”

“And I’m in better health for both. Or do you not trust me to help out?” Simeon tilted his head slightly. That was a dirty trick.

So, of course, Barbatos had to concede. He handed his soiled shirt to Simeon. “Alright, just don’t push yourself for my sake. You could get sick, too – especially if you go out in the cold rain. We should have enough ingredients – if it’s the soup I think you’re talking about.”

“Oh, right! You’re the one who sent me that recipe.” Simeon laughed at his own forgetfulness as he tucked the shirt over his arm. He glanced out the massive window in Barbatos’s room. Somehow, he hadn’t noticed the gentle rain hitting the glass. It had grown particularly dark, and a thin mist obscured the usual view. A soft, content sigh left Simeon. “I didn’t realize the rain was here already, but I guess we’re both guilty of being oblivious.”

“I beg your pardon?” Barbatos was never – or almost never – accused of being oblivious. Often, he was accused of being quite the opposite. “What makes you say that?”

“You haven’t realized that I don’t mind the risk of getting sick.” Simeon leaned in, lifted Barbatos’s mask, and pulled it down before kissing him gently. Simeon’s hand rested on Barbatos’s bare chest, feeling his heart pound. “You’re worth it.”

Barbatos yanked his mask back up the second Simeon pulled away, determined to hide his smile and blush. “You’re certainly bold, angel.”

“You deserve to be cared for once in a while. I promise that the next time I get sick, I’ll let you dote on me.” Simeon pet Barbatos with a chuckle before sliding his hand down from Barbatos’s soft hair to his injured hand. “For now – at least until the rain lets up – let yourself go and trust in my capable hands.”

Suddenly, Barbatos wished that it would rain all through the night.

[misc-obeyme]

more kitchen barb thots

playing music while mc and barbatos are cooking, each doing their own tasks. mc starts swaying their hips to the music- knowingly or not, but its enough to distract barb once he notices and he cant help but continuing to glance over bc the movements are just so captivating he cant help but watch despite all his usual self control. muscle memory has to take over for his task to continue but eventually even that falters (hopefully not while hes chopping stuff lmao) but mc hears the change in rhythm/slight clattering of the bowl and obvs has to check if their cooking buddy is ok!! and barbatos barely manages not to stutter as he assures them hes fine, just a bit distracted because of an "upcoming event" or some other excuse but hes got a pink tint to his cheeks from nearly getting caught staring.

at this point mc can either be oblivious to the reality and just reach out to give a gentle reassuring arm squeeze and a reminder that theyre 'always here if you need anything, we can take a break to decompress for a few minutes :) ' or theyre wise abt it and decide to tease the poor butler and go up to him, turn him to face them and put a hand to his forehead ""checking for a fever"" (pressing their chest into his at the same time ;) ). pull him away from the busy counter and dote on him worried 'but barb your face is so warm! i dont want my favorite demon getting sick :( especially since you look so cute with a blush it would be so unfortunate if the cause was you not feeling well' but internally theyre all >:3 lets see what it takes for his resolve to crack

i feel like the moment you catch him off guard with this kinda thing if you just keep up the "innocent/unaware" flirt teasing it would make it more and more difficult for him to pull it back together. but if he gets that moment then he'll start teasing back. this may be ooc rip and it got Way long but scenarios are fun lol

-🥐

Oh welcome back, 🥐 anon!

One of my favorite things about Barb is the way he teases. However, I also think it's fantastic when the tables are turned and he's the one who's flustered.

The thing about this guy is that he isn't easily flustered, but if there is anyone who can accomplish it without even noticing, it's absolutely MC. I have actually written scenes (though I think they later got scrapped) where Barbatos straight up cuts himself while chopping vegetables because of something MC did or said. So not like him! But that's the point! MC makes him do things he wouldn't normally do. And he can either lean into it or try to resist it and I think you end up with different scenarios depending on which way he decides to go.

MC's reaction certainly matters, too. If they're oblivious, I think Barbatos could safely pretend nothing happened and move on, but I also think he could be the one who teases MC and gets them all flustered.

But a wise MC who's all I'm just trying to make sure you're okay! Listen. I very much think that Barbatos would have a hard time controlling himself at that point. Even if he knows that MC is doing it on purpose. Maybe even more if he knows.

The best thing about Barb is that I feel like I can write him being a real troublemaker where he just messes with MC a lot, but I can also write him being the one who is easily flustered. Like yeah he's got that rigid facade, but you can say beneath it there is a man who is fully aware of what he's doing and deliberately does things just to get a reaction out of MC. Or you could say that beneath it is a suppressed man that gets blushy when you start to tease him. However, I do think either way he'd eventually give in because MC is the only person for whom he is lenient about anything ever.

MC might tease him and fluster him and get him all riled up, but as soon as he realizes what's going on, he starts playing into it. I think he'd use the whole situation to his advantage. Especially if he's like yes let's take a break because secretly he wants to get naughty but he doesn't want to mess up the kitchen lol.

[goodnightbirdy]

Sticky Lungs - Chapter 2

apologies in advance, this chapter isn't nearly as poetic as the first, Meeks is going through it.

Chapter 1

"Meeks felt like he was placed right back in Welton but ten times worse. Instead of pudgy, old Mr McCalister shouting at you to slow down, there was a mountain of a man screaming at everyone to hurry it up. Instead of a glancing room check from Dr Hager, there was an intensive inspection of each corner of his bed, ensuring the sheet was flat and taught. Instead of Hellton Hash there was something much more sinister and grey that Meeks couldn't identify and honestly, didn't wish too."

TAGS: Steven Meeks, Meeks-Centric, Angst, Post-Canon, Vietnam War, other poets mentioned

disclaimer/minor spoiler for chapter 2 in Purple

In this fic Steven Meeks was drafted. I am aware that he was too old to be drafted in canon, if you'll notice in the first chapter i said ‘Men born between 1942 and 1950 were placed in the draft lottery’ these dates are incorrect. The oldest men ever drafted were born in 44 (25 years old)  HOWEVER, this is fanfiction and i reserve the right to do whatever the fuck i want so i changed the dates. Yeah, meeks is drafted at 27, who cares. 

In this fic Steven Meeks is placed in the infantry, he also has an engineering degree. These things coexist. Men who enlisted voluntarily got to choose their assignment, in MY fic Meeks did not enlist. So even with his engineering degree, he's gonna end up with the 82% of men drafted that ended up in the infantry.

Lastly, I don't really care about the realism of this fic. I'm here to emotionally destroy a ginger from the 1950s, not write the most accurate vietnam war fic ever. Don't question anything that closely, I beg.

TLDR; My fic doesn't fit with the real world timeline of the vietnam war, meeks was an engineer, now he's an infantryman, pls dont examine this fic for real world accuracy, i'll cry.

Chapter 2 - Basic

Once you land you immediately start basic training, your head is shaved, and your ass is shot full of vaccines. You're issued a uniform that feels like sandpaper and given a bunk number to report too immediately. 

Meeks felt like he was placed right back in Welton but ten times worse. Instead of pudgy, old Mr McCalister shouting at you to slow down, there was a mountain of a man screaming at everyone to hurry it up. Instead of a glancing room check from Dr Hager, there was an intensive inspection of each corner of his bed, ensuring the sheet was flat and taught. Instead of Hellton Hash there was something much more sinister and grey that Meeks couldn't identify and honestly, didn't wish too. 

The running was the worst of it. There were other elements of the physical training that were awful but the running was its own special form of torture. Running before breakfast, running after breakfast, running after the firing range, running before hand-to-hand, running before lunch, running after lunch, running before dinner, and running after. 

It wasn't as if he was out of shape. He had stayed fairly fit after his lifetime of soccer and rowing. He still ran, he worked out on occasion, only it felt as though it had a purpose in his life before The Letter. Now he ran to nowhere. He ran in circles, oblongs, and figure-eights. He was screamed at to run and run hard, all for the sake of running. Meeks suddenly understood why they shaved his head, because he would have surely ripped his hair out by now if they hadn't. 

It all felt useless, like learning Latin. Skills he needed to learn were being tossed at him with such speed that he was only half catching them with the tips of his fingers. They were kept on such a tight schedule that he barely had time to take a deep breath, let alone think at any particular length. It was driving him insane.

He was packed in with 120 other men between the ages of 17 and 28, some conscripted, some enlisted voluntarily. Why anyone would voluntarily choose this was lost on him. The attitudes towards the situation were varied to say the least. Quite a few loudly hated that they were here, if they had any other option they would have tried to get deferment, but most seemed to be deeply neutral on the situation, this was simply the way things went. The final camp was mostly made of men who volunteered for service, they were a loud and enthusiastic group. They seemed happy to serve their country or die trying, it wasn't a sentiment that Meeks could fully comprehend, though he was trying. 

There was a kid, George, barely 18, enlisted, and slept one bed over. He reminded Meeks of Charlie. Overzealous, easily excitable, loud. But he was different in the sense that he seemed unable to tone it back in inappropriate moments. He laughed when they crawled through mud, he grinned when handed a rifle, and he complained endlessly about the hard beds and awful food. 

Meeks apparently didn't have the same patience for him as he once did for Charlie. He dreamed of grabbing the kid and shaking him, screaming in his face “Do you understand why we’re here? Do you understand that you might die? Do you understand!?” 

Meeks was rapidly approaching a breaking point when the kid moaned for what must have been the millionth time about the hard cots they slept on. Something in him snapped. 

“Jesus. Do you ever quit?” Meeks sniped. He instantly regretted the words as the group of men around them quieted to hear. 

“Huh?” George stared at him, slack jawed. 

Meeks sighed (sticky lungs) “I said, do you ever quit? Complaining?” He raised a brow at the kid.

“I was just, you know, talking. Filling the silence.”

“Can you fill the silence with something else? Something that you haven't incessantly complained about for weeks? Please?” The words tumbled from his lips without the filter he once had, having lost it sometime in the last week Meeks supposed. It occurred to him that he would never have been that short with Charlie. Something in him was hardening, something he didn't appreciate. 

The kid just stared at him for a moment. “...sorry man.”

“Meeks,” the kid wasn't Charlie. The kid was George, and something about him annoyed Meeks to no end.

“What?” 

“Meeks. It's my name, not ‘man,’ Meeks.”

His tongue felt sharp, more cutting than he had ever been. He didn't know what was happening to the man he was before The Letter, maybe the sandpaper uniforms were wearing him away. He wanted to go home.

“Oh uh, sorry.. Meeks” 

Meeks didn't respond, only nodded and went back to his food that tasted like nothing. The conversation around them picked back up, someone began talking about their wife back home, and Meeks tuned it out. 

%%%%%

Meeks’ glasses were scratched.

He had always tried to be careful with his glasses since another boy crushed them on accident during a soccer game in middle school. He had taken the pieces of crushed glass and plastic to his father, who sighed and muttered about how much replacements would cost. He had been blind for some time and had to sit in the very front of class while he waited for the new pair. 

But now his glasses were scratched. 27 years old and he couldn't maintain a pair of glasses. He supposed it wasn't entirely his fault. He had been dragged through the mud, both metaphorically and literally, these past 8 weeks, but it was still annoying. The scratch was directly in the middle of the lens and impossible not to look at. It was like looking through a window with a crack in the corner, not really that big a deal, but it draws the eye regardless. 

He took them off and looked through them at the light in the dining hall. George stared at him as he did. Despite Meeks’ small snap at him a couple of weeks ago the kid had begun to cling to him like a shadow.

“What are you doing?” the kid asked.

“My glasses are scratched.” Meeks said simply, tilting the lenses so that George could peer through them. 

George squinted at the glasses, “if it bothers you, why do you still wear them?” the kid asked dumbly. 

“I can’t see George. I can't just not wear them.” Meeks made an effort not to refer to George as ‘kid’ out loud. He had thrown a fit over being called ‘man,’ the best he could do was call the kid  by his name. 

“Oh.” The kid did that a lot. ‘Huh’ and ‘oh’ fell from his lips like water. The more time went on, the less he reminded Meeks of Charlie. Charlie was smart as a whip, and quick with a comeback. Charlie rarely had so little to say that ‘oh’ tumbled from him. 

Silence grew between them as Meeks placed his glasses back on. The group next to them was playing cards and someone heaved a deep sigh as they stared at their presumably shit hand.

“Sticky lungs.” Meeks muttered to himself.

“Huh?” 

Frustration lanced through Meeks and he turned to George, “Sticky Lungs,” he dead panned.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It's why people sigh. Because the little air sacs in your lungs stick to themselves, people involuntarily take a deep breath and it forces them open again. It maintains proper lung function.” Meeks explained flatly. 

He had learned about sticky lungs in highschool and he had only ever told three people about it. Pitts, who he told endless fun facts too, his mother, in a moment of silence at the breakfast table, and Neil, who had once wondered aloud about how to tell the difference between a sigh of contentment and frustration. He didn't know why he explained it to the kid, he was probably just going to say ‘oh’ anyway.

“Oh.”

Meeks nearly scoffed at the predictability of the arguably dim boy. He was eighteen, hopefully he would grow up out of it. Hopefully he would grow up at all. 

%%%%%

Basic training ended and they were being separated based on aptitude for certain things. Meeks had a feeling, despite his education, he wouldn't be chosen for anything that required great precision due to his eyesight. He had a bachelors in engineering, but that didn't mean much to the army when you couldn't see 15 feet in front of you without a coke bottle of glass in front of you. 

They were lined up and their names were called with whatever your destiny was following.

“John Richards: Infantry. Michael Fisher: Artillery.” Steven was next. He honestly didn't know what he was hoping for, but before that he even had time to process that thought his name was being called.

“Steven Meeks: Infantry.”

Images of the front lines flashing in his mind. Moments of horror caught on film and broadcasted to the world. Meeks swallowed as he realized, they were no longer going to be moments of distant pain caught in a photograph a world away from him, it would be real. Tangible. Reality. 

He felt panic rising in him, his world dropping out beneath him. He hadn't felt such a sinking dread in his gut since Neil. George suddenly bumped his shoulder.

“Infantry Meeks! Maybe we’ll be stationed together.” The kid was almost giddy. It unnerved him. 

“Maybe,” Meeks replied numbly. He was trying hard not to outwardly panic. He wished he knew anyone here, for just a second he prayed to suddenly see one of the poets. He hoped he had missed them all these weeks and suddenly they would appear before him. It wouldn't be so miserable if he had someone to talk to. Someone he knew, someone who cared, someone who was possibly as scared as him. 

Meeks sighed, “Sticky lungs,” he muttered to himself.

[pandoraroid]

listening to vincent's playlist and it is an,,, experience,,,

take this all with a grain of salt pls dont come @ me

to quote a comment from this video: the fact that we know what's coming makes this both terrifying and heartbreaking. couldnt have said it better than myself 😔😔😔😔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

i love him so much,,, he tries to distract the listener,,, he tries to comfort them so bad soshksjsks HE'S SO SWEET AND EVERYTHING

"do you wanna hold my hand?" HAND IN MARRIAGE SIR? SURE

he is an adrenaline junkie i need a man like him in my life he's just like me fr

"one last ride, right?" NO 👹 S T O P DONT BREAK MY HEART LIKE THIS

though how is he the only rider they never found??? what how did he get dislodged from his seat or something??? i must be dumb i dont get this all of a sudden 🧍‍♀️

love the intro 😚 the messages on the cassette tapes are so heartwarming and reassuring djgdjdhd

okay that "boo" actually scared the shit out of me is it safe to assume that this is the same amusement park he was in in the previous video?

if that's the case, does he just,,, chill in here at random??? god that is so,,,

"demons(?) are very much real" BRO ARE WE SUPPOSE TO KNOW THAT?

"oh i know i'm close. you're welcome" WHEWWWWWW JESUS FUCK LORD GIVE ME STRENGTH

"little one" okay fuck i'm melting YOUR VOICE SIR got me kicking my feet and blushing fr

lovely has an attitude 😁😁 stay strong soldier

he calls them beautiful AND DARLING? even if it was a bit of a throwaway JESUS 🫠

"your safety is paramount" "be safe, little one. good night." why does this make him so much hotter jesus what is wrong with me HE EVEN LEADS THEM BACK TO THEIR CAR (bareminimumenjoyer?!?! me?!?!? look away)

"you're not looking for another paranormal hunk are you? that would break my heart :(" SIR

no seriously why is bro here

"foreplay takes two y'know" SIR

is he getting them to believe in the supernatural what what is his goal,,,

"should i strip down for easier access, doctor?" WRAP IT UP

his voice omfg immelting just imagining the scene,,, onlovely'sbedbeingclosewithhimohmyfuckinggod

he's so goofy for just tapping on his fangs like that lmao

DID HE JUST PIN THEM DOWN TO THE BED WH A T

SIR WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT DID HE SERIOUSLY NEARLY JUST???? WHA T

"no one has had this effect on me" NO SHIT????

"you're safe with me. i won't lose control." thank you for that but if the next video's title is any clue, that will not age well ( i mean you on the other hand don't get to age at all so 🤷‍♀️ IM KIDDING)

"i'm not going to mess this up." you won't babes (at least i think you wont) i'd give anything to give him a hug or something

WHO THE FUCK IS THIS BITCH THIS ISNT MY MAN

oh the warnings 😃 mentally preparing myself now

lovely what the fuck are we doing here

"beautiful little bloodbag" oh hey a pale sleazy talking punchbag

"oh relax i'm just touching you" and if i may touch my fist to your face in a fast and strong way, you're gonna relax then bitch

WAIT DID HE TRANCE US???

i am well aware a human is no match for a vampire but that will not stop my audacity to try which dare i say levels up to his for touching me and talking shit about vincent

"all i had to do was wait for your human brain to make a decision this stupid." it seems that your expired vampiric brain has also made the stupid decision to breathe in my direction

to be fair on vincent, we have met each other exactly two times and neither of us (especially him) could have known how our previous meeting would end. i don't need to be near you for five minutes to know you're a little bitch

DID YOUR CONCEPT OF PERSONAL SPACE DIE WITH YOU THE FIRST TIME GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU LITTLE BITCH

MY MAN IS HEREEEEE he's not gonna be mad lovely came here is he

HE PUNCHED HIM HAHAHAHA he did it for me fr

HIS VOICE GOD am so weak for him

MAKING OUT WITH US ALREADY??? GOOD GOD

lovely checking on him too ☹️☹️☹️ my goober fr

"i dont think you're gonna like what you found" oh dang you're like me for real

MY MAN

the way he says "little one" will never not get to me omg AND THEN HE SAID BABY IN THAT VOICE??? GOD

vamp eyes go black when theyre hungry(?) got it noted

so lovely got tranced and vincent is needs to feed on them right after???? did i get that right??? GOOD GOD GIVE EM A BREAK???

"i cant drink from your neck... no not yet not like this..." PROPS TO HIM FOR HAVING PROPRIETY LOVE MY MAN FR

"this will mark you as mine" GIVE IT HERE but at the same time ALREADY????

oh good lord he's feeding from our wrists now okay

hang in there lovely patpat u're gonna be okay (i hope they will be VINCENT)

aw those little kisses though

noooooo vincent 😭???

neways,,,

jfc these two put me on a ride (haha get it)

vincent is slowly becoming my new crush 🤭 but jfc lovely better get good u got this babes

will stop here for now bc i need a break 🧍‍♀️ when will i continue who knows

[shreddeddescent]

ok ok one last insanity check for everyone ok this is a lil different. like lemme just say im clearly someone who likes to go to the dark zone but also try and claw my way back out. i do sappy funny shit most of the time. and the writing of this thing has gotten long and insane, timelines have jumped as i try and parse events. as in i started w a scenario where raph nearly got sold out to his father and is rescued by his brothers immediately. we go to a place where he wasnt and is rescued later. theres been inbetweens where hes rescued but bad things happen despite that. all of this has led me to like his inner turmoils (diagnosis) and the other characters inner turmoils more. how they feel about each other how theyve coped. its good to jump around so im glad i havent said too much as if its all set in stone. im glad im not trying to write a fanfiction to SHARE if that makes sense.

my current shit that has gotten the longest was from the worst case scenario of his lack of rescue and i feel like... i dont need to say what that was? but i think i should point out that descent has a second meaning. its not just the spiralling downward, its also the root word of descendant. that was my feeling about the poetry of it.

so ill say i do feel like im in the danger zone of being fucking murdered for this but i wanna say it anyway cuz i think itll be ok. i think you guys will get it cuz ur being nice. im exploring shit and having fun. it gets raw, it gets hard, but its working out.

so i started writing this au as "ok so heres a scene where raph is just hanging out w casey, hes trying to tell her to control her anger, and theyre fighting a bit. and he fucking flashes back and realized hes a csa victim. let the story unravel from there"

and im currently in the. insane writing area of "what if ur presumed aborted kids come back from the future/pocket dimension to take care of u cuz theyre like 30 and have coped w what they are and know you have no adults around who give a shit. and theyre amazing and kind and want to help you."

shits.......... gone off the rails. idk what else to say. i am having fun exploring insanity and seeing if i can reign it in. if i didnt do that i wouldnt have come up w half the shit i have. so like. uh. idk if youll see anything of said thing okay. its weird i know it is. but honestly i feel like the insanity and seeing how real i can make it feel, how i can parse feelings over it is working well. maybe this all sounds spoilery or weird. i was really thinking "ill just draw out things chronologically" but im struggling with that for some reason. but this au is on my mind uh 24/7 and its good to just be like "ok, heres where my head is at, if thats not what you wanna hear about it the unfollow button is right there"

but i also feel like ive been OVERLY POINTING OUT. that this isnt a story for kids. so please try not to judge me too harshly. its just a fucking.... how insane can i go and tell you about it thing. i guess.

[quodekash]

okay, two things to say here

one: pran's loving stare <33

two: HOW THE HELL IS PAT'S LEG DOING THAT??? HIS FOOT IS POINTING INWARDS

THE ENTIRETY OF HIS LEFT LEG HAS TWISTED AND ROTATED COMPLETELY???

AM I JUST LOOKING AT IT WRONG OR IS PAT A CONTORTIONIST

its entirely possible he's just double jointed. i also have a lot of double joints

buT IM STILL CONFUSED BECAUSE LEGS DO NOT WORK LIKE THAT

OH

WAIT I GOT IT

HIS TOES ARE TUCKED UNDER THE CALF OF HIS OTHER LEG

IM SUCH AN IDIOT

SORRY GUYS, FALSE ALARM

ah shoot i got distracted for an hour watching commentary youtubers

HE SAID THE THING

THE THING THAT THEY ALWAYS SAY

GNERJDKBSGF

IM CLAPPING MY HANDS LIKE A HAPPY TODDLER RN

BUT YOU ALSO SAID THAT

YOU ALSO CANT LIVE WITHOUT HIM

TELL HIM THAT

OMG

DID TIAN FREAKING SPILL THE BEANS ON PAT??? THATS SO FUNNY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

his feet are normal again, dont worry guys

(guys being me. im pretty sure i was the only one freaking out about his foot but i just need a little bit of validation)

IM SOBBING

HE SAID IT

VOIEPSDHBGOVULJRBFGOBUVRPDOUFGVBNREDOUGJBVNEIRUJKDFBGNEVORIFDJLBGNBOIERUJKDFGOBIJKLERDFOIGJLBENRVOIDFJLGBVEOIRFDJLBNGBIOREJLVFDB

KISS YOUR FREAKING BOYFRIEND KISS YOUR FREAKING BOYFRIEND KISS YOUR FREAKING BOYFRIEND

H EL P

IM NOT OKAY

AAAAAAAAAAA

HHHHHHHHSBGHJSDBFX

I THINK IM DYING

THEY MEAN WAY TOO MUCH TO ME

JUST FREAKIN KILL ME ALREADY

HOW DOES ONE DEAL WITH THIS

HOW DO YOU FUNCTION WHEN PATPRAN ARE SO FREAKING PERFECT

bro just looked directly at the camera

THEYRE SUCH HUSBANDS

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

is it love.

okay never mind, it's not love lmao

hell yes

husbands

such husbandly husbands

ERODJFLBHGNKJRDF

THEYRE ALL DOING THE 'I CANT LIVE WITHOUT YOU' LINE AND ITS KILLING ME, I LOVE IT

ah frick

im just remembering that thing about how heart transplant patients only live up to like 10 years after getting a heart transplant.

and that statistic is for people who listen to their doctors and dont go to a mountain and dont do exercise they should not and dont eat food they should not etc etc, so tian's life expectancy is probably even less than that.

ITS OKAY, LET'S IGNORE SCIENCE, WE'RE IGNORING SCIENCE

HES A FICTIONAL CHARACTER, SCIENCE DOESNT HAVE TO APPLY

NOT TODAY, SATAN

i hate you so much for this jude

why would you send me that tiktok

everyone spam @judebilation with hate for emotionally destroying me and also probably you

(im just kidding i love them too much to be super mad about this, and also FICTION MEANS SCIENCE DOESNT APPLY, WE DONT HAVE TO THINK ABOUT SCIENCE, so to jude: i forgive youuuu)

HE'S READING ITTT

PLEASE THE MUSIC WAS SO DRAMATIC THERE

IM JUST TRYNA EAT MY CHEEZLES MAN BUT I NEARLY CHOKED ON THEM

ITS SO FREAKING FUNNY

HOLY HELL

i finally finished the episode! it only took me (checks watch) 16 and a half hours to do

and if you wanna be nitpicky, technically it took 37 days and 30 minutes to start, and then 16 and a half hours to finish after that

and i still have an entire episode to go, so let's get right to it (after i pee and make a hot chocolate, cos i need emotional support)

[fulgurbugs]

an extremely thorough review of the monster fest draculaura food truck playset

was getting something for my mom today for her birthday, and since now that im home, the target and the walmart actually close together, decided id see if they had Monster fest cleo and the draculaura playset. they had both! i picked them up with some birthday money i got.

this set retails at 59.99.

up first: the box. i’ve seen some problems online me with this doll having her clothes stolen due to the open packaging that allows you to touch her without unboxing her. i respect the lack of plastic, but i doubt they’ll be packaging any future releases like this. the doll herself is near impossible to remove without scissors though.

i will say, she was quite easy to remove from the box. all the sticker decals are separate, and the instructions included have corresponding numbers telling you where to put them.

here’s all the parts the playset comes with. it was too large for my desk, so here it is on my bed lol

all sides before opening (with decals)

the interior of the food truck section. the little door can hold all of the included food accessories, luckily, so they won’t be loose.

the stage section. folded up, it’s like a dressing room, with slots to hold the guitar and microphone. folded down, it’s a stage

also, be careful before you commit to putting those stickers on. i put one of those mirrors on crooked and it did NOT peel off clean

now onto the draculaura. she is certainly…. less extravagant than the other monster ball dolls.

she is 100% polypropylene. oof.

face card. i actually love love love the makeup on this draculaura. green is a rarely used color on her, but it’s cute and subtle in this makeup! her headpiece is separate inside the box, and is not worn on her head in the box, and thus has no head tabs. it falls off pretty easy.

my draculaura is missing her green necklace…. i couldn’t find it any of the bags of accessories she came with either….

budget body. (this seems to be the norm with all playset dolls.) i honestly don’t miss the chest articulation that much, but she already feels a bit barebones….

quick shoe check. i actually love these, they’re a lovely level of shiny irl, with really cute molded details. maybe they just need some green and pink paint to make those details pop?

now to make some proportional comparisons! venus will be assisting today, since she’s one of the larger dolls.

unfortunately, there is no way i could find to make her sit nicely in the driver’s seat :(

the pop up section of the food truck is accommodating to both of their heights though.

draculaura on the stage. it’s extremely hard for her to hold the guitar due to it lacking a string or a second handrest. i bumped her and she dropped it again. also, why is it blue? doesn’t match anything on her outfit….

i do enjoy the bat microphone, though! very cute

ended up tucking the truck away down with my peach riots, but im sure i will eventually put it into storage. i dont have much interest in the playsets. i think maybe displaying some dolls on the stage could be cute though? (maybe catty….)

and that’s monster fest draculaura! honestly, if i wasn’t specifically a draculaura collector, i’d pass. the playset is huge, and the doll herself is not nearly as cool as the rest of the monster fest lineup. i do really want to give her a little tlc and some paint on those accessories to see if i can really make her shine though!

[bambiraptorx]

oohhh bts for minor interference?

I honestly dont trust that I remember nearly as much of my fics as I'd like to lol. That being said, I think that chapter 8 in general is one of the points that I really like because it's more or less the point where Draxum's attitude towards the turtles starts changing. Specifically, this part:

“Why are you here, anyway?  It’s almost one in the morning.  We both should be asleep.”

Leo fishes another pickle out of the jar he’s cradling and shrugs.  “We’re out of food at home.”  Out of pickles, he means.  He'd checked the fridge and the cabinets looking for snacks while trying to distract himself from his most recent nightmare.  Not a pickle jar in sight.  He wonders what it would be like to turn a hundred.  That’s a lot of candles to put on one cake, maybe he could have two or three?

Draxum’s face does something weird at Leo’s remark, like he isn’t sure how to process it.  Why would—ugh, he better not be assuming that Leo’s actually serious about not having food.  That was a joke.  Splinter’s always made sure they have more than enough of everything, even if he does forget what food nobody likes sometimes.  (None of them like bell peppers anymore, Dad.  That collective fixation food lost all its appeal ages ago.)

Leo rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his pickle.  “I’m joking, Peepaw.  We can feed ourselves, okay?”

---

For Leo, his comment about not having food at home was a joke that fell flat. For Draxum, it implied a lot more, especially given that Leo tried to leave almost immediately after. At this point, Draxum starts to wonder what their lives are like outside of training, which culminates in him deciding to get food for them, just in case.

It's the first action he takes that's genuinely done with their interests in mind, even if 'getting the turtles food in case they don't have enough at home' is something that also happens to serve his interests too. (After all, getting the turtles more comfortable around him and/or indebted to him does serve the goal he had at this point in the fic of getting the turtles trained and serviceable as the super soldiers he made them to be.)

There's also a few other important things that happen in chapter eight, like Draxum realizing that Leo is scared of his vines, and realizing that Leo is 'comfortable' enough around him to not bring a weapon when he came to Draxum's house. Which the audience doesn't get to see, but those are big realizations for Draxum. He doesn't actually want the turtles to be uncomfortable around him because he needs them to trust him enough to die for them, but he realizes at this point that he needs to do more to get that trust. So he does start working toward that, albeit slowly because the turtles are still very good at getting on his nerves and he lowkey doesn't like them all that much at this point lmao.

It's not the point where he stops thinking of them as weapons, not by a long shot (that still technically hasn't happened in the fic but it's kind of a spread out realization anyway). But it is the point where he starts thinking of them as more than *just* weapons.

And of course for Leo's side of things, this is the chapter when he starts seeing Draxum as slightly less of a villain. So there's a lot going on in general lol.

ask game thingy