#i am NOT tagging every single bitch that appears here

[bl00dalchemist]

Woe, Naruto doodle dump be upon ye!

[kitcatttt]

Serious post.

Hi guys. I know you guys are probably surprised to hear from me considering my last post, and no, I’m not back permanently, but there is something I feel I need to make a post about.

Disclaimer: Do not harass the user mentioned in this post, I do not wish any harm onto them.

If you have been in the TPC community since January of this year, you know about the drama involving the user Cintagonisupset. If you’ve been keeping up with his blog (only reason I have is because I do 100% expect him to make another post about me and/or my friends) you would have seen one, or both of these posts.

Now, you might be wondering, why am I bringing these up? Both of these situations are extremely unfortunate, and they would be, if he wasn’t lying.

I know that it’s a bold claim to make, but it isn’t inaccurate. I may not have concrete confirmation of him lying, but I have more than enough evidence.

For the first image, he legit just- didn’t leave tumblr. He just pinned that post and kept on tumblr like normal. For the ENTIRE time he was supposedly gone, he was still reblogging posts, just putting in tags that he was “still gone”. After about,, maybe a week or so his pinned post was back to the usual one and he was posting like normal. Not to mention, a little ways through that whole leaving tumblr bs he had changed the pinned post to this. “I hope y’all bitches burn in hell” (actual picture to be added once I fucking find it AUGH)

(UPDATE I GOT IT) And the second image? He claimed. To have to be sent to a mental hospital because of a mental breakdown. That is EXTREMELY serious. Do you know how in need of help you need to be to be admitted to a mental hospital? Do you know how horrid that would be to fake? Now, I haven’t been to a mental hospital myself, but I have several friends who have. Hell, I even have a IRL friend who has been to one AND has written a 10 page research paper on them. They have all stated to me that they wouldn’t let a patient keep their phone, and my IRL has stated that the wait times there would most likely keep them in the hospital for longer than they supposedly were in there.

All of this alone isn’t enough for me to claim that he faked it, seeing as he is in Canada and I’m in the US, and they most likely operate different than here. But you know what is? The fact that he has deleted EVERY SINGLE POST HE HAS MADE ABOUT HIM BEING IN THE HOSPITAL. Sure, he could’ve gotten out early, but why delete all of the posts about it, and not at the very least make an update post on his condition? I know for a fact that there are still people that care about him, and not making a post about his condition when he CLEARLY has the ability to be on tumblr seeing as he deleted all his posts mentioning the hospital is extremely suspicious, and basically proves that he has ulterior motives for making these posts.

What do I think these motives are? Well, I believe that he is trying to make anyone who checks his blog that was involved in the drama against him think that he’s gone, so that they stop checking his blog for good. Then he gets rid of or hides/buries the posts and goes on with life like nothing happened. I honestly don’t blame him for trying this, as trying to get out of drama with desperate tactics isn’t that surprising and is not that odd of a response. BUT LYING ABOUT GETTING SENT TO A MENTAL HOSPITAL??? YOU REALLY COULDN’T THINK OF ANYTHING BETTER??? Honestly, it makes me sick. Seeing someone fake something as SERIOUS as that. Makes me sick.

I do not wish harm on him. I wish for him to heal. I wish for him to get the help that he needs. From his repeated behavior, there appears to be something wrong with him mentally. While I do not enjoy claiming this, it’s the most logical explanation seeing as he’s been doing shit like this FOR OVER 4 YEARS. He genuinely needs professional help, and I pray that he gets it. But for now, all we can do is defend ourselves if he decides he wants to attack us yet again.

And a personal message to Cintagonisupset, if he just so happens to be reading this. Your actions severely upset me. This post has not been made to wish ill will onto you, but to bring to light something that you have done wrong, that is genuinely disgusting in my opinion. You have made callout posts for way less. Again, I do not wish any harm onto you, so do not wish any harm onto me. Or do. It’s just more evidence against you.

If anyone has read this far, thank you. Once again, do not harass Cintagonisupset, that is not the purpose of this post. Thank you, and have a wonderful rest of your day.

[random-autie-fangirl]

Hey, Do you have any Chara headcanons?

So technically I already have a reblogged post of Chara headcanons. Right here, within the tags. (99+) Chara neutralist squad on Tumblr

However, I most certainly have not run out of things to talk about and so...

I now present Chara Dreemurr headcanons 2: Electric Boogaloo

1. Yes, so as I said before, they have been spotted reading the dictionary cover to cover multiple times and reads english grammar books for fun. It is like they have to use one word literally nobody understands at least once a day or they will figuratively die. And of course, they would be the one to say figuratively every single time they use a metaphor or hyperbole or turn of phrase and they would get genuinely annoyed with anyone who says literally when they don't literally mean literally. Chara is the kind of kid who if someone says "can I", they will say "I don't know, can you?" like an english teacher because it's supposed to be "may I" for allowances. And, Azzy, it's supposed to be "Chara and I" not "me and Chara" ...no-one cares.

2. Something vocabulary related is that Chara absolutely, categorically refuses to swear! Apparently, contradictory to popular belief given that they're an "edgy" character, they think they are far too intelligent, high-class and mature for such gauche and vulgar words (did I mention they're a loser yet?), you see, and they would definitely consider using words that mean almost nothing to be a grave insult to their extensive vocabulary.

This doesn't mean they don't have certain stock phrases they use as exclamations or insults, though, of course. "asshole" or "bitch" becomes "you complete and utter ingrate", "what the fuck/hell?" becomes "What on this good earth/What in the Angel's name?" and "fuck you" becomes "may the angel smite you dead" or "may you burn in hell forevermore" (except that since Chara Dreemurr has proved themselves able to dish out much, much worse insults than "may the angel..." (stuff like "you look horrible, why are you even alive" for example) this might just be more annoyance than genuine hatred.)

So basically, while a normal person might say "Ow! Fuck!" when they stub their toe on something, Chara "Sesquipedalian loquaciousness" Dreemurr starts up an anime villain speech at nothing in particular while Asriel giggles and possibly records in the background. (Because of Asriel's apparent love for anime, he'd probably find his sibling's way of speaking to be the coolest thing ever as well as thinking it makes Chara some sort of uber-genius (note: it does not))

3. Okay so, since they tend to fixate on being impeccable in every way, even for the smallest of things, they can get embarrassed very easily and...very dramatically. Not finding the best word for every situation (particularly if they end up saying something wrong), not getting a perfect score on the test, anyone (who isn't the Dreemurrs) seeing them when their appearance is anything less than completely spotless.

They shall freeze and go completely blood red, they shall squeal and run off to their room. They will lie face down, not making a sound, and stay there for...hours. They will not respond, they will not be consoled. They have recently learnt they're not literally the best at everything ever and no, nothing will ever be okay again.

...They'll be back to normal within a day, though, boastful and eager to impress as ever. I think at some point they do learn that maybe not being perfect isn't the end of the world...eventually. Anyway, heard someone saying that hell exists for Flowey and it is minor inconveniences and that is true but hell also exists for Chara and it is minor embarrassments.

(Yes, I am aware this is very exaggerated, it's just more fun that way)

They have an equally dramatic, though positive, reaction to praise and compliments. Giddily skipping around and smiling ear to ear for hours, they tend to preen and straighten up, and it turns out they were lying and can cry, (a lot) just not out of sadness or fear. Though, they do get somewhat good at downplaying how much they care in front of acquaintances or strangers (even if they are nice and polite about it). Technically, only the Dreemurrs are allowed to know that Chara feels emotions.

(Also they have the same reaction to realising they are in fact the prophesied angel in the murder run, despite not being a praiseworthy accomplishment in any way, they're just happy to be, well...special. They always knew the prophecy was about them! Of course they were the angel, they're the best person in the world after all, finally they have the title they always deserved! Oh dear...)

[umazane-muesli]

Jukebox January: Day 14

I know, I'm late (again) but I could simply not miss the day that contained my Most Beloved <3

(I finished this in the middle of the night so I'm queuing it for the morning, you do not want to know at what ungodly hour I'm still awake)

Today: songs starting with N

Novi Val - Joker Out

Obviously I had to open with this one. My favourites may change and fluctuate, but I will always have a special place in my heart for Novi Val <3 it was my most listened song of 2023 because I am a basic bitch who loves a rock ballad (does it count as a rock ballad? idk) with silly little hopeful and earnest lyrics. I also love that when they play it live they all come to the front and chill and hold each other (except at the concert I went to, Jure didn't come to the front :( ) I can only apologise to whoever was in front of me at the concert for the person I became when they played it, I know a worrying amount of the lyrics and I got a bit carried away 🙃

La Noche Sin Tí - Los Huayra

I got absolutely obsessed with this song when I was in Argentina, I don't know what else to say, I love the vibe, the vocal harmonies, and the memories it brings back :)

November Rain - Guns N' Roses

Oh, an overdramatic 80s power ballad? In my Jukebox January? You don't say 🙄 anyway, yes I know, I'm predictable, yes I know, this song is 9 minutes long, but also it's great, so 🤷🏻‍♀️

No Big Deal (I Love You) - dodie

This slow, emotional song is one of my favourite by dodie, and the 3-rythm (idk what it's called in english) in the bridge(?) makes me lose my entire mind i love it so much.

Need A Little Love - The Fratellis

Sorry for putting you to sleep with all my beloved ballads, I promise that's not all I listen to. As proof, here's a dancey bop from The Fratellis :)

Ni Panike and Ne Hvala - Masayah

Masayah is one of my favourites among the many Slovenian artists I've discovered last year! I didn't know which song to choose (I could've honestly filled this post just with songs starting with the word "no" in one language or another), so you get two for the price of one. If you're a rap or hip-hop person, go listen to Ne Hvala, and if you prefer a more groovy, jazzy song, Ni Panike might be for you :)

New Born - Muse

I'm not the resident Muse person in this tag game but I need to shout out this song anyway, it's a great song with banging instrumentals and a very cool build up.

Noche - Sofiane Pamart

I have listened to a lot of Sofiane Pamart in 2023, and I could recommend so much of his music, but let's start with his last solo single. He makes beautiful piano music, kind of romanticism-inspired, but more contemporary, and also collaborates with a lot of french rappers.

NGVOT (Live from Arena Stožice) - Joker Out

Yes, of course this one was going to make an appearance, and yes, of course it has to be the live version. I loved this song on the studio album already, but after months of losing my entire mind over every tiny clip of Kris singing it at various concerts, I'm glad we have a beautiful clean version to listen to whenever we like <3

(Wow I can't believe I have "song lyric that I sacrificed for a stupid pun (username version)" and "song lyric that I sacrificed for a stupid pun (blog title version)" in the same post lol)

And a few bonus ones:

- Needle - Born Ruffians

- No Wahala - 1da Banton

- No se va - Morat

- No existen los milagros - Amaral

- Na soncu - Siddharta

- Never Be Me - Miley Cyrus

- Nevermore - Queen

- Nina Cried Power - Hozier

[sadistpet]

MUSE THEME SONGS

when you get this, post theme songs for your muse! then tag 5 or more people! tagging : you.

╰┈➤ BUBBLEGUM BITCH / marina and the diamonds

got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll / don’t care if you think i’m dumb, i don’t care at all / candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored / i’m the girl you’d die for / i’ll chew you up and i’ll spit you out / cause that’s what young love is all about / so pull me closer, and kiss me hard / i’m gonna pop your bubblegum heart / i'm miss sugar pink, liquor liquor lips / hit me with your sweet love, steal me with a kiss / i'm miss sugar pink, liquor liquor lips / i'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch

╰┈➤ CARRIE / molly ranson

doesn't anybody think that i can hear ? i hear / 'specially when i've got them screaming in my ear, i hear / everyday they mock me and push me around til i drop / if i had a wish, god, i wish they'd stop / when will they... i wish they'd... / when will they, when will they, when will they / sometimes their hatred is out of control / god, how they hurt me / mama says suffering is good for the soul / but they hurt me / and if i could, i’d bring them all down to their knees / i’d make them sorry forever for teasing carrie

╰┈➤ WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS / tiffany tatreau

what the world needs is people like me / to keep it all spinning around / i’m the mover, i’m the shaker, i’m the headline maker / i get up, i get up / and no one’s gonna keep me down / and as we move through life to find our place in the crowd / ( some don't make the cut, that's crystal clear ) / oh yes, oh yes / oh isn't someone keeping score ? / i gotta say it so loud ? / i mean, do we really need another zero ? / or zero, or zero, or zero, or zero ? / add 'em all up and you'll still get zero / what you really need is a futher-muckin' hero !

╰┈➤ ROXIE / renee zellweger

i’m gonna be a celebrity / that means somebody everyone knows / they’re gonna recognise my eyes, my hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose / from just some dumb mechanic’s wife / i’m gonna be roxie / who says that murder’s not an art ? / and who in case she doesn’t hang / can say she started with a bang / roxie hart ! / they're gonna wait outside in line to get to see roxie / think of those autographs i'll sign / good luck to ya, roxie / and i'll appear in a lavalier that goes all the way down to my waist / here a ring, there a ring, everywhere a ring-a-ling / but always in the best of taste

╰┈➤ MISS Y / marina and the diamonds

i feel like a substitute sitting on the sideline / clicking every single finger, waiting for the right time / i feel like a substitute sitting pretty in my prime / i'm about to play the game 'cause i'm running out of time / drop your knees to the floor, hands to the sky / give a round of applause for the great miss y / i walked all night long in the dark just to be standing here / only to feel like nobody / i'm miss y am i here ? / and the lights they get stronger / the longer that you have to wait / for the honour, the honour to be great

[blondiest]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @ashleyfanfic !

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

21 on neallo, 5 on blondiest

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

212k: 121k on neallo + 91k on blondiest

3. What fandoms do you write for?

death note and (allegedly) stranger things

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

i'm going to exclude my stranger things ones or i will only have one death note fic listed lol.

there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have

hot soup on a cold day

i want to hold you (hostage)

engaged

there's nothing i want but you

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

on neallo, yes. every single one. i reply bc it's a nice way to connect with the readers :-) i am really really behind on blondiest comments but there are also fewer since it's been so long since i updated anything 😭

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably nothing hurts like you do, though idk if that counts bc it's a prequel to holdyouhostage. shot in the dark has a not-happy ending, but it's meant to be very open-ended.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

hmmm!!! most of my fics have happy endings, to be honest. i think i would perhaps say it's you and me, that's my whole world bc that's my most indulgently hurtcomfort story 🥰

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i have! but only on one occasion (though it was a decent number of comments). i was told that i was an example of why modern fans can't write mello and near lmfao (<- was into death note in 2008. if i suck at writing them, i come by it honestly 😇)

9. Do you write smut. If so, what kind?

hehe. yes. i have written a pretty good variety of types of smut. i tried listing out the various acts here and then was like... let me not do this to myself. “what kind” ? hopefully the kind that is at least kinda hot 💋

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

no not really! i wouldn't rule it out but i've never had an idea for one. i did once write a fic loosely based on ‘this is just to say’ by william carlos williams, but it is not on neallo or blondiest and isn't for a fandom i have posted about on here.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

lmfao yeah, very recently

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! i had a very short fic translated into french on the aforementioned mystery account lol

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

yes!!! voted most likely is a collaboration with my darling friend dee, and i have several fics with the beloved @empressofthewind

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

meronia. it hit me so violently and has not let go for a full year. it's so over for me forever

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

hmmmm. honestly, i have my doubts about finishing voted most likely, sadly. i feel like the major, real conflicts were already solved, and the plans i had for the rest of the plot feel very drawn out now. i just want to let them be happy immediately lol. maybe i need to brainstorm a new ending 😔

16. What are your writing strengths?

i think my dialogue skills are pretty strong :-)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i am not, i don't think, particularly strong at descriptions of locations or of physical appearances lol

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i prefer to have it in english and italics rather than including actual full phrases from the other language, bc i don't want to fuck up the grammar in another language and i also don't want to confuse readers. occasionally i will use individual words from another language (ingerasul meu lol), but i try to always provide in-text cues for what it is being said.

19. First Fandom you wrote for?

lmfao...................... time princess

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

oh god. i want to hold you (hostage), hands down. it's not close. i spent so much time on that story, and i became very fond of it.

i am soooooooo sleepy so i'm doing the lazy bitch thing and saying that if you see this you should consider yourself tagged 💋

[brandwhorestarscream]

Unicronia? Can you tell us more?

I am so, so glad you asked

So, this takes place in the Unicron Reborn AU, which is a side-story what-if of Hindsight's Timeline 5. If you're not familiar with it, uh. Check the tag cuz I'm not retyping all of that XD under the cut cuz this bitch is long

Switchover, Unicron's reincarnation, has just had the double bomb dropped on him: 'oh my god, I'm literally the devil' along with 'oh my god, my children are a bunch of dark gods'. He's just become a brand new carrier to a small litter of 4, and each of his newsparks radiates a dark, ominous power. His first time seeing his own blood was in the delivery room, deep purple and very much not blue. His carrier quietly explains to him the truth, and he's completely shocked.

He and his sparklings are incredibly dangerous. The youngest, who he names Requiem, literally holds death in their hands. A tiny newborn God of Death, capable of snuffing a spark with a single touch. That pushes Switchover to make a realistic difficult decision: to leave home, forever.

He's never even been outside of his family's home in the temple before, let alone off the planet. He has no idea what to expect, all he knows is that he needs to get away, now. His babies are dangerous, but he loves them too much to ever think about abandoning them. They can't be safe here, and they're a threat to everyone around them. For everyone's safety, they must all leave.

So he takes his 4 newborns–Paucity, Pandemic, Artillery, and Requiem–and runs away from home in the middle of the night. He secretly bought a single room on a large freighter ship leaving Cybertron that night, gathered up any baby stuff and memorabilia he could carry, and silently slipped out of the house without saying goodbye. He makes it to the ship, called the Lost Light, just in time for boarding.

Now, I don't wanna go suuuper in depth with all the nitty gritty details because this post would be like 8 pages long, but long story short: Rodimus ends up dead because of Switchover and his bitties. Because he has contact with the anti-spark, he was barred entry to the Allspark; his soul was left wandering aimlessly, nowhere to go and rest, homeless.

At this point Switchover has taken his sparklings to an uninhabited planet where the five of them will be safe and not be a threat to anyone; suddenly Roddy's soul appears before him. It tears him apart to think that this poor mech died for the sole crime of helping him escape, and so deigns to help him. Using his newfound godly power (that he still doesn't really know how to control), sculpts Rodimus a new body and gently transplants his spark into it, filling the form with his own dark energon. Roddy rises again, no longer a prime, but as Rodimus Unicronus (sans the ugly mustache). He can't ever return to Cybertron, but Switchover offers to let him stay; he gratefully accepts. The so-called "evil god" just saved his life and asked for nothing in return… maybe he's not actually all that bad?

For awhile they're happy; this uninhabited planet gives them shelter and Switchover feeds them with his own energon. The bitties grow well and their godly powers start to blossom: they're about 3-4 when shit hits the fan.

Cybertron attacks them, an entire fleet sent to wipe out Unicron, The Spawn, and the Avatar of Chaos. Long story short, one of the children, Requiem, gets mortally wounded; if they weren't an immortal godling, they would have died. Seeing them cradled in Rodimus's arms, bleeding and plating torn up, gasping short, shallow little vents, Switchover just sees red. For the first time in his life, in this life, destructive rage completely overtakes his body. He tells Rodimus to get back, to get his sparklings to safety, because he's about to lose control of himself.

Switchover reverts to what we're calling his primal form; the original Unicron stands before the fleet, incomprehensibly massive, and completely lays waste to every single ship, every single bot on them. He kills thousands in his rampage, roaring at them, "HOW DARE YOU?! HOW DARE YOU HURT MY REQUIEM?! DIE, DIE, DIE, ALL OF YOU WILL DIE!" His bellows create such intense soundwaves it shatters their audials and breaks the glass of their ships, he's that powerful.

Once the fleet has been reduced to little more than scrap metal and dust, Switchover-Unicron grabs Rodimus and his sparklings, and flees into deep space. They travel to unexplored depths of the universe, further than cybertronians have ever gone. They travel for weeks… months… years, being sustained by the great god's body. Once they've traveled millions of lightyears away, Unicron starts slowing down, and gently releases the five of them from his grasp. In a move mimicking his twin brother, his giant body start folding down, transforming and rounding out, becoming a planet suitable for them to live on. Rodimus dubs it Unicronia, as he is the first of the Unicronians.

Unicronia develops over time, thousands of years. Switchover's mortal form emerges from the planet's core, the great antispark, and the sparklings are overjoyed to at last see their carrier at a size wherein he can snuggle and hold and kiss them. Switchover thanks Rodimus for taking such good care of his sparklings while he was in his primal form, and the six of them start settling in. Building a proper home to live in, but there's even more to do!

One day, near the Pit of Anti-Sparks, they find a brand new protoform just… sitting there. Peering down the edge of the Pit, looking so lost and alone. Think like the terrans, but instead of white protometal with blue, they're black with purple. The first truly born Unicronian, and even more follow. Rodimus takes on the responsibility of looking after the newcomers, seeing as Switchover is still very busy with his relatively young, needy sparklings, but the newsparks from the Pit are naturally drawn to him. He is the giver of their lives, after all.

Unicronia slowly over time turns into a mirror planet to Cybertron–all of their citizens are birthed from the anti-spark, they worship Unicron and the Spawn as their gods rather than Primus and the Primes. Cybertron is ofc still searching for Unicron, but they're looking specifically for his godly form, and have no idea which corner of the universe he's in. When/if they do find Unicronia, it's already become a prospering planet with multiple city-states, their own technology, culture, religion, etc, and they're at a complete loss for what to do. 

[queenofmalkier]

I posted 2,709 times in 2022

That's 941 more posts than 2021!

48 posts created (2%)

2,661 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@wot-tidbits

@highladyluck

@amemoryofwot

@birgittesilverbae

@wheelwheelwheel

I tagged 2,701 of my posts in 2022

#wheel of time - 1,811 posts

#wheel of time book spoilers - 1,620 posts

#wheel of time tv series - 700 posts

#rand al'thor - 524 posts

#moiraine damodred - 443 posts

#memes - 403 posts

#matrim cauthon - 358 posts

#nynaeve al'meara - 296 posts

#elayne trakand - 263 posts

#wheel of time fanart - 232 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#i'm still recovering from surgery and pushed myself too hard so i'm going to wait until i'm better until i respond but for the most part i

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Somehow Moiraine manages to be the most selfless human being on the planet and also the most selfish.

55 notes - Posted August 25, 2022

#4

I’m still mad about the lack of thatched roofs with cranes in them.

What’s your minor-missing-detail-pet-peeve about the show?

68 notes - Posted June 15, 2022

#3

The Ongoing Egwene Exploration

If I’m gonna kick the hive, I might as well cite the books and clarify my meaning.

I’m going to preface this with, while Egwene is not my personal favorite character that doesn’t make her a bad character, a bad person, etc. I do stand by my statement that I find her to be arrogant to the point of being dangerous, and her motivations at time are not as pure as she suggests from her own POV chapters, but ultimately she is who needed to be in the role she played, and she is a vital part of the series.

This is going to be a multiple parter, because I truly wish to be fair about my perceptions. The rest will probably be in September because I’m going to be away on a trip. But who knows I might get squirrelly.

Basically, I’m going to skim through the books and only review mentions of Egwene that give insight to her character/how she is perceived by those who personally know her or her own POV chapters.

As an aside, I would argue that unlikable female characters are important. More important than the Moiraine’s (who also had her fair share of arrogance), more important than the stern-yet-soft-hearted Nynaeve’s. They’re the most important in fiction because we so often don’t get to see them.

Female characters are forced to be likeable or be Amy Dunne. Even their grey areas are carefully negotiated so they aren’t written off as a bitch.

They don’t get to be heroes that you sincerely hope you never have to be stuck in an elevator with.

They don’t get the depth and variety because it makes people uncomfortable.

I find that annoying on a good day, on a bad day it makes me want to burn half my library. Modern writers have developed much more nuanced characters, and we’re beginning to see “new” types of female characters that really are just based on living, breathing, real people, but the backlash and fear of it is often there too.

It’s very easy for people to hate a female character. Just look at any popular series and go to reddit. If by some miracle there’s more than one female character in the main cast, chances are there are individuals complaining about her.

Hell, they’ll complain even if she’s the only female character.

(The phrase Mary Sue will appear often. If it does not make you want to boil with rage at the outright hypocrisy when compared with every mainstream male character I invite you to walk into the ocean.)

Lastly, before we begin, this is solely about Egwene. I can just as easily get into every single character in the series and how they also display negative characteristics but then we’re going to be here for ten years. I specifically said Egwene when I kicked the hive and I’m going to see how well my argument is supported by the source material.

So, Egwene.

Why does she get under my skin? How is she any more arrogant than the other characters in the series? What about her do I find troubling and ultimately dangerous? Am I biased because she was mean to my poor little meow meow trash son Gawyn?

Let us start with our first introduction to Egwene, through the eyes of a very, very smitten Rand. (To be fair, I would also be smitten. Just because I don’t particularly like her doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be half in love with her in ten minutes.) We know through later POV’s that Egwene has admitted that he is easy to manipulate so it is difficult not to allow that to color this transaction now, but let us try.

She begins by mimicking Nynaeve, a figure of authority, perhaps to see the effect it has. This is a trait she carries on throughout the series until she no longer needs to mimic and instead becomes the one who is mimicked.

But she soon shifts focus to staring at Rand, unsettling him because he has a crush the size of a solar system and it’s so obvious Perrin and Mat leave him to his fate. They flirt a little before Egwene reveals her now braided hair.

This is a very calculated move, and it feels planned, on her part. A test. But what is she testing?

Being a young, unmarried man in a small village that definitely pushes traditional values, Rand senses a trap here but it’s not what he’s expecting. I think this gives us a very key piece of information about Egwene early on. We think this is her Hint Hint moment, only for her to pull the rug out and mention not only does she want to become a Wisdom, a woman who seldom marries, but that she’ll likely have to travel to a different village in order to do so because Nynaeve isn’t going to retire any time soon. Egwene is telling us that she wants more.

Queue Belle song.

We also see some of her arrogance here. “She says I have a talent, that I can learn to listen to the wind. Nynaeve says not all Wisdoms can, even if they say they do.” When Rand fails to be suitably impressed, we get the very word used that I have mentioned already: dangerous.

Again, we’re seeing character traits I originally brought up: manipulative, arrogant, dangerous. She strikes me very much as the type of person who plans encounters in her head before they happen. That isn’t a bad thing - as the most socially anxious person ever I do this as well as a way to ease my anxiety and plan for everything I can think of - I am simply making an observation. This does not feel like a casual, unplanned conversation on Egwene’s part.

(Manipulative behavior in and of itself also isn’t inherently negative, most human interaction is based on it.)

Yet this moment isn’t Egwene gently letting Rand down either is it? Because Rand - puppy that he is - mentions he’d never see her again and she’s back to vaguely suggesting it’s not like he cares. Because we only see it from his perspective, it’s hard to know if she shuts down ultimately because the conversation didn’t go how she’d planned, or if her temper really did get the better of her.

Was she angry he didn’t demand they wed? That didn’t demand she not become a Wisdom? What was her ultimate goal here? Did she have one? Because of her age, I highly doubt Egwene is some crazy, master manipulator of Hannibal Lecter proportions. She’s not even on level 1 of that crazy train; I doubt she even knows where the station is. Not yet.

My perception here is she’s likely conflicted and confused about what she wants, and angry that Rand isn’t giving her anything to act on. He isn’t saying no, so she can’t dig her heels in. He isn’t offering to marry her so she can’t react to that either. He’s simply saying he’d never see her again, and what’s she to do with that? Egwene very much is a character who wants to act, and right now she has nothing to fuel her to action.

We do get the idea that Egwene is sensitive, perhaps overly so. Does she feel the limitations of the Two Rivers? How small their world is? Do their recent visitors make her feel equally small and therefore her fuse is shorter than normal?

I do want to mention here that I do not want to dismiss Egwene’s cleverness, or her own abilities when it comes to gleaning information from others. Yes, she’s eavesdropping in this moment, but even before she was reading Rand and the others like braille, which is a skill that should not be undervalued.

See the full post

68 notes - Posted July 9, 2022

#2

SHE’S MAKING ITTTTTTTT.

68 notes - Posted January 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I will not go on a random tangent about silhouettes in clothing. I will not go on a random tangent about silhouettes in clothing. I will not go on a random tangent about silhouettes in clothing. I will not go on-

71 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[mylordshesacactus]

thank you for the further bookmark issue. as someone who doesn't really use ao3 (fic isn't so much my thing, etc) but is y'know terminally online it's interesting to see the difference in which bookmarks function there as opposed to most every other site. I had no idea there were people leaving comments and notes on things that could just be seen??? like i hear bookmarks and immediately think 'ah yes the websites i would like to save for later in completely bizarrely named folders that i will most definitely forget about in about 20 seconds max' and not what appears to be a secondary (tertiary?) personal tagging system. and so out of genuine curiosity are there other things on the site that don't really work the same as one might assume? like i'd just default assume that a bookmark would be private and lost to the ages in three sub folders of whatever. again; haven't really used ao3 since um...probably shortly after launch and so haven't ever really like gone into explore more of how it functions beyond the basic tagging system. alternately tho, have bookmarks everywhere always been public in which case i am so sorry to anyone who has opened their how two guide on [random special interest at the time] only to find that somehow it's been associated to a sorting solution that makes sense to no one (especially me.) sorry, hi, not trying to be rude or continue drama just a little lost on the sidelines here.

You're fine!

The thing about AO3 bookmarks that you're (totally understandably, since you don't use the site!) not quite grasping is that, again, it's blatantly clear simply from using the site that they're public. There's a button on every single fic that leads to the bookmarks, and a hyperlink under every single fic summary that does the same thing. The bookmark is a site feature that links back to the original fic, and you can clearly see bookmarks on other users' profiles.

I totally don't blame someone for briefly, initially, assuming bookmarks might be private! My condescending bitchiness is specifically aimed at people who make heavy use of the feature for YEARS and STILL have no concept of how it works, and get angry when corrected--at a certain point, it becomes willful ignorance. You gotta LOOK at the site you're using, and if you refuse to do so, the people around you have every right to get sick of your shit, you know?

So, bookmarks are just really not an example of unintuitive design. Honestly, most of AO3 is extremely clear in how it functions. On any site, it's worth taking five minutes after joining to open different menu options and see what all is available, and AO3's menus are really thorough and very easy to use.

Furthermore, a lot of the things people complain about as if they're...well, for example, the definition of Mature vs Explicit fic, or how archive warnings work. I've seen a lot of people act like it's mysterious or impossible to learn or like it's purely Terminally Online Acquired Fandom Knowledge, and get frustrated by being expected to "just know" how ratings or relationship tags work. And I'm FULLY sympathetic to that! There's nothing more frustrating or upsetting than everyone around you acting like you're supposed to "just know" how something works, "just know" an entire subculture!

Here's the thing though.

AO3 has tooltips built in to explain those things.

They're not esoteric nebulous Fandom Knowledge TM that you have to learn by meditating on a mountainside! And they're not totally meaningless terms that people being sticklers about are just gatekeeping over. On AO3, they have specific meanings and usages, and the explanations DON'T require you to go poking around the FAQ or Q&A sections of the site! They're easily accessible right from the relevant pages.

(I realize that I am, in general, kind of a sarcastic bitch, so I want to be very clear that my tone in this specific post is NOT sarcastic and I am NOT trying to come across as pissy or condescending--you asked a legit question in good faith and I'm happy to talk about it.)

I don't know that this is really the answer you were looking for, but I think it's the most productive answer I could give! The site is very self-explanatory for anyone who cares to use it.

It's a little like hiking. It doesn't matter how well-marked the trailheads are if someone refuses to pay attention to their surroundings.

[existslikepristin]

In your own opinion which idol needs more smut?

Last time I got an ask like this I said Momoland. That's, uh, somewhere in my archives.

(Btw since this ask is specifically about smut, expect some NSFW talk.)

This time the question is for a single idol... That's rough. There are a ton of idols who need to be written IMO. But I'm gonna say

Kim "YR" "Katie" Yerim... AKA Yeri (of Red Velvet)

So one of my favorite things to do is put a spotlight on lesser-known idols, but I've got a bone to pick with Kpop smut writers. And that bone is: Why the fuck is Yeri (effectively) ignored in the context of Red Velvet smut?

To preface: The rest of Red Velvet is smut-worthy. They're hot/cute/pretty. They're talented. Etc. But proportionally, Yeri gets very little attention. Even Wendy, Red Velvet's official visual hole (which is not my personal opinion, it is LSM's marketing strategy, hashtagWendyIsHotAwareness) appears in more than twice as many M-rated fics as Yeri on AFF according to a simple tag search. From personal experience looking for Yeri smut, for a majority of those fics she appears in, she is cameo character to justify using her name to pad out the fic's tags. You get this to a certain degree with Joy as well, but the difference is less stark, and Joy is less often relegated to background character status. If you ask me, this disparity is a tyrannical injustice and here's a list of reasons why you should join the very real crusade that I will eventually probably start for Yeri to get more smut written about her.

1. Yeri is hot as fuck.

I don't know if you've noticed, but Yeri is hot as fuck, and that's a pretty good reason for you to write smut about her. Are the other members of RV hot? Yes. BUT... is Yeri hot? Yes. And you know she is. She is not only hot, but she has little to no reservation about proving it.

Surprise, mother fucker. Yeri has an ass. It may not always seem like it because she's top heavy, but she definitely has an ass.

Don't try to pretend you weren't already thinking about her god-like tits. Without even being obscenely large, they are capable of changing the center of gravity. Of your eyes. To make you look at them. Because she has boobs. Does your bias have boobs? Don't answer that. I didn't THINK SO. Haha, gottem.

She's got the Squirtle lip, implying she is a water type, implying she is constantly wet and/or a squirter and/or lactates probably. She puts out house fires while wearing sick shades.

As someone with half a foot fetish and an expert opinion, I can also confirm she has the cutest feet in Red Velvet and is in at least the top 5 overall for idols as a whole.

Of course, given how blisteringly hot Yeri is, there are many more physical characteristics that I could cover here, but Tumblr has an image limit and I already spent too long making the collages above while my rapokki gets cold.

2. Yeri cusses.

I love when idols swear in English and this is my list so you can fuck off you gosh damn cunt.

Seulgi is what we call a coward.

3. We stan a horny queen.

We've all seen the clips. "Hi, I'm Katy. Nice to meet you." and "Yeah, I like girls... GENERATION." These were clearly what we call in the biz a panty drop and a gay panic, respectively. Yeri loves porn, sleeps naked, and has at minimum depending on how you count sixteen confirmed kinks (including a foot fetish, voyeurism, degradation/humiliation, something about vampires, and many more). She is a pansexual (meaning sexual toward anyone, though she may also have sexual feelings for kitchenware), gender fluid, ethnodiversity-appreciating switch. With all of the above in mind, she is obviously willing to fuck anyone in any way and if you write about it, she will surely find/read/enjoy it. Also she would have the longest, thickest futa dick in Red Velvet, a fact which is not up for debate.

4. She's not a massive bitch.

Don't @ me, Irene stans. It's a joke and I am exaggerating. Every celebrity of every caliber is under a lot of interpersonal/social stress guaranteed to manifest at random intervals as behavior ranging from mildly to severely antisocial.

But no really, Yeri is a pretty normal person. For as much as you can be if you're an extremely successful idol and influencer, Yeri's kinda normal. She still fangirls over stuff, she regularly shows gratitude, and she's not afraid to be seen as a regular human being, illusion of idol perfection be damned. She actually exhibits more emotional diversity than your average can of grapes, which cannot be said about a looot of idols. Maybe you should write emotional fluff about her too. You can't spell fIuffery without using all the letter's in Yeri's name. And honestly, why would you even try? (In case you missed it, that was a capital i, and was extremely clever)

5. Yeri is a meme idol, and she's funnier than you.

Yeri is an effortless comedian. Seriously, you should appreciate that more. She tries really hard to make you laugh, and you swine don't seem to appreciate them pearls.

If you write like I do, the fact that she's so fucking hilarious is extremely helpful and inspiring.

So yeah.

Also, if you want an idol to write who just doesn't have like nearly enough smuts in an overall sense, write Yooa. I know this was a rant about Yeri, but Yooa is also cool and hot.

[mistresspotterhead]

The American Ymbryne- Chap. 1

Alma Peregrine x fem!reader

Warnings: Yelling, slamming hands on a table, being outed (kind of)

Words: 1,900 on the dot

A/N: Wow, this took a lil bit. Alma doesn’t appear until the very end of this chapter, but she’ll be in the next one a lot. Everyone has been so kind, and that has helped a lot <3. Also: Miss Saker indicates the type of bird you are, not your given name. I hope you guys like this. 😊😊😊

Tags: @itsonlydana @evil-feather @merci-bitch @multimilfs @escapetodreamworld @gay-and-sad-tm @multifandomfix @romanottsmaximoff @n0thing-is-real-exe​ @theaudreymere 

(ask if you want to be added/removed)

In a strange way, Cairnholm reminded you of the Chicago loop you and your wards had just fled from. They were both very dreary, cold, and, from what you could tell from those on the ferry, the people would rather be anywhere else. 

“M-miss Saker? I’m cold.” The bundle of talking coats shivered next to you. 

“I know, Astrid. We’re almost there, though.” You sighed and looked out toward the slowly approaching coastline. Your surviving children, Elina, Alexander, Leonard, and, of course, Astrid, all huddled closer to you. You stared at Cairnholm for a while longer, until the ferryman’s voice suddenly called out.

“Alright everyone, ‘ere we are! The… lovely… Cairnholm!” He steered the small ferry over to the somehow smaller docks, and you led your children out.

“Is everyone here? Astrid, Leo, Elina, Alex?” David, Beth-Anne, Lisa, Frankie, June, Stefanie, Josef, Alice, Rosie, Reggie. You suppressed the urge to call out their names as well. 

“Yes, Miss Saker,” they called in long-suffering voices- you were very adamant about attendance. It was good to see something was normal.

“All right then. Leo, can you see where the loop is? And Alex, are there any other peculiars near?” Ah yes, your diviners. It was very lucky for all of you that they were two of those that survived the wight’s invasion of your loop. 

Your Chicago loop near the Art Institute was one of the last surviving loops in America maintained by an Ymbryne, along with your South Side, McKinley Park, and St. Louis loops, though the latter was run mainly by its older wards and reset once a week.

As of a fortnight ago, though, the Art Institute loop was the only one you had. McKinley Park was attacked by Wights and Hollows in December, with South Side following close in early January. Samuel, the sole survivor of McKinley Park, was what Syndrygasti call a Librarian. He could see hollows and alerted you to them when you were traveling to St. Louis for reset. The problem with this, though, was that Sammy was only five years old, and so frequently got distracted.

It wasn’t hard to understand- Illinois in 1975 was very colorful. Sammy was gone now, though, as were all most all of your children. Speaking of… 

“There aren’t any other peculiars on the island, Miss Saker- at least not in this time,” Alex said, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Thank you, dear. How are you faring, Leo? Have you located the loop? I don’t like being out in the open for this long.” For emphasis, Elina gave a giant, chattering shiver that was surely exaggerated.

“Indeed, but it is on the other side of the island, and the night is fast approaching.” 

You looked over and scowled at the sun; if you couldn’t get rest, then why was it allowed to?

“Well then. It looks like we’ll have to go into town.” Immediately, protests arose.

“Aw, no!”

“Come on, Miss Saker! We can make camp out here!”

“Because that sounds comfortable,” Leo deadpanned to Astrid.

“Well, it’s better than town! There probably isn’t even a hotel!”

“Actually, Astrid, that’s where you’re wrong.” Astrid looked shocked at the suggestion that she could ever be incorrect at something. “There is a hotel. It’s called the….” You took out the crumpled guidebook the ferryman had given to each tourist. “Preist Hole. What kind of hotel is called the Priest Hole?” You muttered that last part to yourself. “Anyway, off we go. Come along, single file now.”

Your ducklings dutifully arranged themselves from youngest to oldest, seven-year-old Elina closest to you and sixteen-year-old Leo at the back.

You hoped that the food was at least good.

Nope. Everything on the Preist Hole’s menu was covered with vinegar. You wondered if that was a Welsh thing or a Cairnholm thing. Maybe the owner just liked vinegar. Next to you, Elina was grimacing with every bite. On a whim, you decided to flag the bartender down.

“Hey, Kev, was it?” He grinned widely at you. You gave him a small smile in return.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s me. What can I do for you ‘n yer bunch today?” 

“I was just wondering if you had some fries- sorry, chips- with less vinegar. My youngest is still picky.”

“Hmm. Well, I’ll talk to Arnie ‘n see what he can whip up fer ye. He’s the cook, ye see.”

“Thank you so much, sir.” You attempted a bigger smile, but it still felt forced.

“Naw, it ain’t a problem, really. ‘N please, call me Kev. Sir sounds like I’m fifty- ‘n I’ve still got twenty years ‘fore that,” he chuckled.

“Well then, you must call me y/n.”

“Of course, ma’am- y/n, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, Kev.” This time, your smile was a small bit genuine- his hesitancy was endearing.

“Yeh. Well, um, I’d better talk teh Arnie now. I’ve kinda been lingering here for a while.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you from work, anyway.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t object if yeh did,” Kev concluded, winking before walking away.

Once he was out of earshot, Astrid started chittering.

“Ooh, was that flirting I saw, Miss Saker?” You rolled your eyes, and Alex guffawed into his water.

“Miss Saker? Flirt with a guy? I think Elina would drink an entire bottle of vinegar before that happened.” You turned your head sharply in his direction, but not before Astrid snapped back at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You jerk your head toward her now.

“Well, Miss Saker isn’t really the type to, ah, dabble in the male gene pool.” It was like you were watching tennis, really, with all this head-turning.

“That doesn’t make any-”

“ENOUGH!” You stood up, placing your hands on the bar. “This is not a discussion we are having, especially not here and now. Alex, I told you that information in confidence, and I am severely disappointed that you have betrayed that. Astrid, whether or not I am flirting with someone, and really my love life in general, is none of your concern. Do you both understand?”

They nodded, Alex looking especially ashamed of himself.

“Sorry, Miss Saker. It just slipped out.”

You sighed and ignored all the stares you and your wards were getting because of your outburst. 

“Alright, Alex. Just… you can’t share things that people tell you privately.”

“Yes, Miss Saker.” He was quiet after that, poking at his food.

It bothered you that he had shared that information, though it didn’t seem as if the other wards had understood. Of course, Leo was the only one you would expect to, as he was sixteen, but he had been sheltered in your loop his entire life. All of your wards had, really.

Just as you were beginning to sink into your past again, Kev came out with Elina’s new plate of fr- chips.

“Here ye are, little lady. I hope you like these better.” He smiled at Elina, tugging a small one out in return. You both watched expectantly as she took a tentative bite. And another. And another. Until the plate was almost gone, and she was rubbing her stomach in contentment.

“Well, that was fast.”

“It was good, Miss Saker. I wasn’t going to let it cool.” You laughed at the disapproving look on her face.

“Alright, alright. I suppose you have a good point.” You turned to Kev. “Thank you again, sir, for-”

“Kev.”

“...right. Thank you for doing this. How much will it cost?” You were ruffled at his interruption, but he didn’t notice. He pretended to think for a moment.

“Hmm… how much will makin’ a little girl ‘n her mam happy cost? I dunno.” He smiled at you. “It’s on the house. I can see that ye haven’t had such a good day, so….”

“Really? Are you sure? I mean, I have the money….”

“I’m completely sure. It’s good te make someone happy once in a while.”

“Well, I truly do thank you. It also seems that we’ll need a room, if that’s alright?”

“Sure. Room four was just recently vacated. It’s right up here.” He led you up the stairs, the kids trailing behind.

The room was small for five people, but it seemed like a mansion to the children, who only had their old, overcrowded loop to compare it to. There were four rickety beds, though they did seem to be clean, and a barren nightstand next to each of them. 

“Ah… I forgot that this only had four beds. I can get ye another room, or-”

“No, no, this is fine. Thank you for your help, Kev.” You subtly ushered him toward the door.

“Oh- well, if ye need anythi-”

“Yes, of course. Ta, then! Have a nice day!” You shut the door, leaving him very confused.

Alex was wheezing on the floor behind you.

“That… that was absolutely amazing Miss Saker! You are an absolute icon!” 

What in Abaton does that mean? You never could understand the new slang terms that the 1970s held. 

Elina yawned, setting off all the other children and alerting you to their needs.

“Alright then, time for bed.” Immediately, they were completely awake.

“I’m not tired at all, Miss Saker, therefore I shan’t be able to fall asleep.” 

“The fact that your accent is coming out very strongly tells me that you are indeed tired, Leo.” You crossed your arms. “Bed. now.” Your wards slouched, and grudgingly picked out a bed each.

“Miss Saker, where will you sleep tonight?” Astrid asked as you were tucking her covers in.

“On the floor, of course. Now, did you remember to take off your gloves?”

“But it won’t be comfortable! The floor is so hard and cold and dirty and-”

“Your gloves, Astrid.” She was very talkative, even late at night, though you had come to enjoy it. Sometimes.

She took off the gloves that helped control her peculiarity and was about to start chattering again when Elina suddenly spoke up from her bed in the corner.

“I could make you a nest with a spare blanket, Miss Saker?” You gave her one of your very rare genuine smiles.

“That would be lovely, Elina.”

“Wait- how did she know you were going to sleep in bird form?” Alex asked, finally catching on. You smiled again at Elina and kissed her on the forehead.

“She’s made me a little nest before when I fall asleep in my study while in bird form.”

“And that happens often?”

“Surprisingly so. Now, snuggle in and no more talking.” As the children said their goodnights, you finally transformed into your bird form; a stunning saker falcon. You jumped lightly onto Elina’s bed, careful not to hurt her with your razor-sharp talons or accidentally hit her with your wing (which had happened on more than one occasion). 

Though you nestled into the warm bunch of blankets right away, you didn’t fall asleep until much later, and even then, you were restless all night. 

---

Little did you know, in the old manor that you would trek to the next day, a group of peculiars and one very curious ymbryne had observed all of this. Alma LeFay Peregrine set her watch and gave the children a reassuring smile while she pondered what this meant and why her stomach had fluttered when you gave that dazzling smile.

[kazewhara]

I’m really glad that you’re doing okay zuzu^^

And thank you for always listening to me rambling lol (even if it’s just about ningguang, my beloved main, lmao).

Another thing, then I swear I’ll leave you alone, I was thinking about you and suddenly the idea of modern au kazuha who works part-time as a florist struck me.

Imagine you barging in his little shop one late afternoon, all frazzled and looking one inch away from madness because you urgently need flowers for a stupid reason such as “I need to insult this person, so how do you say ‘fuck you’ in flower language?” so much that you didn’t even notice the stunned boy holding a vase of lilies half in puzzlement and half in pure amusement. You have the decency to look sheepish, at least, growing more and more embarrassed as the boy (the very attractive boy, but that’s for later notice) gently laughs. He hums in contemplation, a sharp glint in his otherwise kind eyes as he very seriously takes up your request and immediately starts picking colorful flowers and arranging them in a bouquet that’s entirely too pretty for its own purpose. God, you almost wish the pretty boy in front of you dedicated those flowers to you, uncaring of the meaning if it meant receiving flowers from him at all. All too caught up in your own thoughts and in the way his gentle fingers wrap up the bouquet in satin ribbons, you almost fail to notice that he’s done, handing you the fruit of his work (but what you don’t fail to notice, is the tenderness with which he handles those flowers). You thank him profusely, tripping over your own words as you try to look at him in the eyes, he waves you off, mumbling something about how flowers can convey so much more than words ever could and how he’s glad to be of service to you. He proceeds to explain the meaning of every flower he arranged oh so flawlessly: red geraniums for ‘stupidity’, yellow carnations for ‘disappointment’, orange lilies for ‘hatred’, topped by some purple larkspur for ‘haughtiness’, by the end of his explanation, his expression is quilted in amusement and poorly hidden mischief, and you think that he, for once, doesn’t need any flower to say what he wants. But then, before you can leave, he wordlessly hands you one single lavender flower. You look at him expectantly, but he merely raises his eyebrows at you and goes back watering what appear to be petunias. This bitch. And as you leave with your bouquet from the glass door you hear a faint but teasing “you’ll come back, will you?” almost drown out by the sound of the bell attached to the entrance door. As soon as you step out of there, you fumble to get your phone, hastily typing, a google page with the meaning of lavender soon pops up: devotion and distrust. Which one is it? Oh. Guess you’ll really have to come back, won’t you?

Don’t mind me brainrotting lol, all of this cause I wanted to send this lil sketch of florist kazuha lol.

Hope this finds you well zuzu, I really wanted to thank you for your writings, im not really good with thanking with words, so here I am once again in your inbox lol.

-Hecate

i think i should make a tag for ask box pieces because this. this is AMAZING holy fucking shit WAIT BECAUSE HE DID THAT ON PURPOSE TO MAKE US COME BACKSUJSSBJSJDS AND LOOK AT HIS FACE OH MY GOD?? OH MY.GOF

hecate i literally just woke up no more than 15 minuted ago and you have made my entire fucking night, like i'm swooning and itching to write smth like this now ... thank you so so so so much for thinking of me and liking my writings, that's so goddamn sweet and i never know what to say in response, but believe me when i say my gratitude for you runs very VERY deep

now i think i'm gonna stare at this kazuha for a little while and cry because HE'S SO CUTEEKEHJEJSJDSNJDN LOOK AT HIM OH MY GOD

[jackrrabbit]

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

[vannahfanfics]

The Hawk and the Turtledove

Category: Romantic Drama

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Keigo Tamaki, Fuyumi Todoroki

Additional Tags: Medieval AU

Hello, all! I am super excited to present my story for the @hawksbigbang! Please be sure to check out my partner @echodreamer’s art! Also, I am very grateful for my beta @seigephoenix​!

Keigo’s eyes were narrowed as he flitted through the columns, the face so many often called fair and handsome morphed into a hard visage of stone. His gloved hand rested on the gilded hilt of his bastard sword strapped to his hip, the leather sheath chinking against the soft fabric of his breeches and tops of his leather boots. The heavy clunk of their soles echoed through the throne room, but were drowned out by the din of conversation. In the shadows, he watched with disgust as the knights and lords and squires conversed with his king, hiding their malcontent behind regal smiles. They were vultures, all of them, all here to swoop down and claim his princess in their vicious claws. 

Keigo’s golden eyes drifted to her, where she sat on the small throne beside her father’s towering seat. Her hands folded primly in her lap, she entertained the guests with trained smiles and courteous words— but he could see right through her, always could. He could see the fear in her strained smile, see the heartbreak in her eyes. Seeing those slate-gray orbs devoid of the twinkle he loved so much made him burn with anger. He felt the emblem sewn into the bodice of his tunic searing into his chest like a brand, and he yearned to rip that roaring dragon from his chest and stomp it into the dust. Keigo had long been in the service of Enji Todoroki, and his king had done many things that some would deem questionable. Yet Keigo always believed his sovereign had ruled to the best of his ability, and really, what he was doing now was nothing unexpected. 

Kings always held tournaments to marry off their eldest daughters; it was their best means of forging political alliances and maintaining good relationships. To be passed off to a husband to bear children had always been Fuyumi’s fate, they both knew that. Yet Keigo had been so naïve, whispering in her ears with his honeyed tongue as they lay in a tangle in his bedsheets that he would never let that happen, never let anyone take her away. She was his princess, his only to have and to cherish and to love. Yet with every would-be suitor that strutted into this throne room, Keigo’s late-night promises were closing in, threatening to smother them both in what was revealed to be nothing but a web of lies. 

Keigo wouldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let that happen.

Like a specter, he glided behind the thrones. Fuyumi had long since grown accustomed to looking for the glint of sunlight off the golden edges of his sword; she automatically sought him out, her expression growing pained when she glimpsed him over her shoulder. The men surrounding her hardly noticed her movement, too busy clamoring their achievements or reciting poetry or proffering gifts. 

With the ever-so-slight tilt of his head, Keigo motioned for her to follow him to a side hall. Then, with a purposeful swagger in his step, he melted back into the shadows. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw her rise from her throne and give the crowd of men a polite curtsy. 

“I thank you, gentlemen, but I have grown weary and wish to retire. I am much looking forward to your performances in the tournament tomorrow. I am sure that you will all perform admirably.” The grace and poise in her tone made Keigo’s stomach boil, though he knew it was no more than practiced appearance. He nursed his envy as he leaned against the wall in the hall outside the throne room, arms crossed as his hands ached to rend every single one of those sons of bitches to disfigured body parts. He found his rage dissipating, however, when he heard the familiar swish-swish-swish of Fuyumi’s gown and the pitter-patter of her slippered feet. She all but fell into his arms after rounding the corner, tears beading on her pretty white lashes. 

“Keigo, Keigo,” she moaned in agony. “I do not know how much longer I can stand this. All of those men, they want nothing but my father’s power and influence, or worse, just to bed me! I cannot become a bride to one of them, I simply cannot!” 

“Hush, my turtledove,” Keigo soothed, sweeping a strand of her hair from her face to lay his hand against her cheek. She pushed into his touch, and he could feel the warmth of her skin bleeding through the leather. “It will not come to that. I will not allow any of them to take you from here.” 

“How?” she asked miserably. “Father will never consent to anyone but the tournament winner claiming my hand. You know how he feels; if we admit our affair to him now, he will simply execute you as the morning’s entertainment!” She wailed as gruesome possibilities ran rampant in her head, causing the tears to stream down her cheeks. Keigo shushed her and pressed a kiss into her forehead, right below the silver circlet marking her royal birth. 

“I will not face the executioner’s blade, my sweet turtledove,” he promised with a chuckle. “That I can promise you. If King Enji will hand you only to the winner of the tournament, then I suppose I will just have to win, won’t I?” 

Fuyumi gasped and reared back, looking at him with frightened eyes. 

“You did not…” 

“I did. As a knight in the service of a king, I am not forbidden to partake, so your father will simply have to sulk on his cushions,” Keigo smirked. Fuyumi worried her bottom lip between her teeth, drinking in the sudden development. Yet Keigo could see hope flooding her eyes, returning that glimmer to her cloudy gray irises that he loved so much. “Be at ease, my love,” Keigo whispered, pressing another kiss to her forehead, then her nose, both her cheeks, and then finally her soft lips. “Finally I will claim you as mine for the world to see,” he murmured against her lips. Fuyumi moaned longingly, and Keigo could not resist slipping his tongue in her mouth to kiss her passionately. Fuyumi abandoned herself to his affections, hands roaming over the soft fabric of his tunic to splay over his chest. She always tasted so sweet, like winter-frosted apples. Keigo could get more drunk off of her than the finest wine in the world; he didn’t want to stop, but he forced himself to pull away. It would be troublesome if they were caught. 

However, that didn’t stop them from pressing their foreheads together and drinking in each other for as long as they could. Fuyumi slipped a handkerchief out of her sleeve and softly tucked it under the shoulder of his vest, her token of good luck for him. She peered at him through her lashes, her eyes once more full of hope and love. 

“I love you so much, Keigo,” she whispered. “No matter what happens.” 

“Do not talk like that, love,” Keigo smirked back, “for you’ll be in my arms by the end of tomorrow.” 

Fuyumi sighed, closing her eyes and absorbing the last bit of his presence that she could. They could not spend the evening together; it was too risky with all the hustle and bustle of the castle, though Keigo longed to feel her, roam his hands over his skin, hear the way his name left her kiss-swollen lips like a prayer. She pulled away from him, yet her hand lingered in his, arm stretching as she slowly walked away. Her arm dropped when their fingertips slowly slipped apart, yet her eyes lingered on him until the gloom swallowed her whole. 

I will not fail, Keigo resolved, reaching up to grip the edge of the soft white handkerchief. I must not. 

The next morning after a fitful sleep, Keigo left at the edges of dawn to report to the competitors’ tent. The fields outside the castle had been transformed from an empty patch of grass to a grand arena; wooden seating flanked each side of the square-shaped area and flags bearing the roaring dragon of the Todoroki house rippled in the breeze, mounted on tall poles. Tents for the armors and smithers and leatherworkers crowded around the arena proper. Many of the tournament competitors had already arrived to arm themselves and ensure that their equipment was in tip-top shape. Keigo surveyed his competition as he strutted around, eyes narrowed. Many famous knights from across the realm had come, but that mattered not. He was the top knight in the service of the most powerful king on the continent. He feared no man. 

Keigo found his assigned tent, where his armor was waiting on a mannequin. He was shocked to also see Fuyumi waiting there, seated on a small cushioned bench reading a book. Her baby-blue dress rippled in the breeze, hugging her frame like Keigo had many a time in the deep dark of night. 

“Turtledove,” he spluttered, prompting her to look up at him and smile. “What are you doing here?” 

“It is customary for a princess to see her knight off to battle, is it not?” she said cheekily, rising from the bench to sashay over to him. Her hands smoothed over his broad shoulders, gazing at him in admiration. “I came to wish you luck.” Her smile widened when she saw the handkerchief still tucked underneath his vest. 

“If I have that, then this tournament is as good as won,” he hummed. Fuyumi smiled at his confidence. Her gaze slid to his armor, gleaming in the low light of dawn. She walked over to it, running her fingers over the hawk gilded in gold on its silver surface, the wing fixtures on his helmet. “Hawks,” they called him for his speed and tenacity in battle. He hoped the moniker would serve him well in the trial to come. 

“Let me dress you,” Fuyumi said softly as he approached his armor. He raised an eyebrow, but she just stared at him so beseechingly, how could he refuse. He set his sword down on the cushion while Fuyumi circled him, her hands roving over his body. She slowly went around to his back, hands sliding down to his belt. She slid it through the loops, one by one, until she let it go so it could drop to the floor. Keigo watched her ministrations with an amused smile, Fuyumi nipping playfully at his neck before pulling his tunic over his head. 

She replaced it with the arming doublet, the plush, padded fabric gliding over his body. The chainmail went on next, clinking with each of his movements. Fuyumi’s hands smoothed over him as she tucked it into place, ensuring every inch of him would be defended. Then, she began to attach the many pieces of his plate armor, fastening the shoulder pieces. She rounded him to face his front now, looking up at him with adoring eyes as she fixed the breastplate into place. 

“No matter what happens,” she said and leaned in to kiss him softly, “I love you.” 

“What did I say?” he purred against her mouth. “Turtledove, do not talk like I will never see you again. I will win this tournament for you, and we will finally be free to be together.” 

“Even so,” she smiled coyly, tugging at his armor to ensure it was properly in place, “I must tell you.” 

Before they could say anything else, the trumpet of a horn echoed through the early morning air, signaling that the tournament was due to begin soon. Keigo snatched up his sword and fixed it to his waist, then grabbed his helmet. Fuyumi swept her hands once through his tousled blond waves before he jammed it down on his head, snapping the chinstrap. The sprawling wings on either side of his helmet gleamed in the sunlight, feathers of steel ready to be painted with blood. 

“I will not fail you, Fuyumi,” he promised and gently pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Even with his bulky gloves, his touch was tender. “I promise. You and I will be together.”

“I know,” she smiled. She pushed gently on his breastplate, prompting him to walk backwards out of the tent, into the throng of knights heading toward the arena. “ I love you, ” she mouthed to him before the entrance of the tent rippled with a sudden burst of wind. When it settled, she had disappeared, exiting out the back before anyone saw her. Keigo clenched the hilt of his sword tight, feeling the handkerchief bunched against his tricep. 

Keigo was the last to enter the arena. The knights all kneeled in the grass before the king, who was seated with the rest of the royal family in the pavilion. Keigo could feel Enji’s eyes burning into his armor as he strutted across the field, armor clinking as he kneeled at the end of the line. I fear no man, he reminded himself with a smirk, not even my lord, for no man can stop me from loving Fuyumi. He raised his head slightly to look at her; her gaze was fixed on him, both hopeful and scared. He crunched the grass blades beneath his fingers. 

I will win this for you!

“Honorable knights, lords, squires, and all else who have come,” Enji began, his baritone voice echoing throughout the clearing. It signaled a hush over the crowd; all of them stared at Enji, though out of reverence or fear, none could really say. “I thank you for entering this tourney in honor of my beloved eldest daughter, Fuyumi.” He gestured to the princess, who straightened up and offered the crowd a nervous smile. “The winner today will not only receive honor and glory, but the hand of my daughter in marriage. I will take you into my family as a son, and we shall move forward together, bringing peace and prosperity to our lands.” 

The crowd erupted into claps and cheers as the king sat, his chair groaning under his muscular bulk. This signaled the competitors to all stand; the tension was so thick it could be cleaved with a dagger. All were eager to win Enji’s favor— aside from Keigo. No, he was probably the only one here who was truly interested in the fair princess, eager to keep their grubby paws off the woman he’d come to know and love in the most intimate ways. 

That was his songbird, his turtledove. He could allow no one else to hear the tune she sang for him, no one. Her soft coos were for him and him alone. 

The tourney was styled in an all-out brawl. They would fight in a massive heap of armor and steal until only one remained, the winner that would be gifted Fuyumi’s hand in marriage. It seemed simple enough, and the perfect sport to satiate Enji’s mild bloodlust. The king probably wouldn’t be too upset at a few maimings or even deaths. Such was the risk in knighthood, after all. Battle was not the only place one could lose their life. 

The knights broke from the circle to begin taking their places across the arena. Keigo moved toward the edge of the field, while the more hot-blooded and ignorant individuals remained clustered in the center, eager to wet their blades with blood. Poor bastards; they were the ones who probably wouldn’t survive this fight. The center was always the bloodiest. Sure, if you fought your way out, you would be showered in glory; Keigo didn’t need glory. He needed victory.

He hunched in an offensive stance on the outer rim of the grassy area. His sword made a grating sound against the leather scabbard as he drew it. The bastard sword was also known as a one-and-a-half blade, and Keigo made good use of it, confusing his opponents by switching between one-handed and two-handed styles like it was nothing. He started off gripping the blade with two hands, holding it in such a way that he could easily attack or defend depending on what situation arose. Sweat rolled down the side of his face, the beating sun warming his armor and the layers beneath. The battle must be quick and swift, or the heat would begin to whittle away at his endurance. His golden eyes flickered to Fuyumi’s, her slate-grey eyes ringing with a prayer. 

You must win!

The horn bellowed in the morning air, and the carnage began. Ringing steel and agonized screams mingled with the shoops and cheers of the audience as the center of the arena instantly became a bloodbath. A poor squire was trampled underfoot after being pushed over. A detached arm went flying through the air, followed by an high-pitched, excruciated howl. Arcs of red glimmered like rubies against the azure sky. Attendants of the king immediately rushed in to cart the defeated— and the dead— off the field, which was already soaking up puddles of blood.

Keigo whirled to the side as he heard footsteps rushing up on him, swinging up his sword to block the blow of a shortsword. A youth about age eighteen with a shock of emerald hair grinned at him; the boy wasn’t even wearing a helmet. 

“Sorry about this, but I’m gonna win!” 

“Try again in a few years, bud,” Keigo huffed, kicking him in the chest. The boy squawked in alarm, and as he staggered backward, Keigo brought the heavy hilt of his sword down on his head. The boy crumpled immediately, eyes rolling back to the white as he was rendered immediately unconscious. Better suffer a humiliating knock to the skull than be maimed beyond repair, Keigo thought as the boy was dragged off the field by his limp arms. Maybe that’ll teach him to prepare properly, too, Keigo smirked while spitting a lock of his hair out of his mouth, then dove into the fray. 

He could feel Enji’s eyes burning into him like suns, Fuyumi’s gaze cooling him like the moon and he bobbed and weaved through the intense battle. The song of steel was a symphony in his ears; it was one which he was familiar with, one which he relished. His blood began to pump in his arteries, full of adrenaline, making the world around him blaze. His heart sung in his chest like the holy choir, making him grin as he whirled his sword around him. The steel thrummed as he parried blows and knocked shields; it simmered with glee as he cleaved chainmail and marred flesh. There were only two places on this earth where Keigo was home: in Fuyumi’s arms, and on a blood-soaked battlefield. 

Soon there were only two of them left— Keigo, and this absolute beast of a man he was pretty sure had to be half-ogre. He was ugly enough. 

He ducked as the giant of a man whirled a morning star at him. As the heavy spiked ball embedded into the earth, fleet-footed Keigo ran up the swaying chain to clothesline the man. The behemoth gurgled as Keigo’s armored arm thwacked into his meaty neck, instantly constricting his windpipe. Keigo let his momentum carry him around his back, latching on like a spidermonkey. He wrapped both his arms around the man’s throat and pulled back, cutting off the oxygen flow.

The man let out a strained roar and stomped around, meaty hands grappling for purchase on the small blond. Keigo yelped when the sausage-like fingers dug into the gap between his plate and mail, allowing the giant to wrest him from his back and fling him like a ragdoll. He sailed across the clearing to land in a heap at the base of the pavilion. His helmet unlatched from the force and flew from his head, rolling a few times before coming to a rest, one of the metal wings bent. 

“What’s the matter, Hawks? I hope you haven’t broken a wing!” the king jeered down at him. Keigo spat out a bit of blood and unsteadily climbed to his feet, watching with fierce eyes as the giant lumbered toward him, swinging the morning star above his head. Keigo’s gaze never left him as he leaned down to retrieve his helmet, gripping it tight in his hand. 

“I’ve still got plenty enough flight left in me, my lord!” Keigo huffed, blood smeared over his sneering teeth. “Enough to fly up and take that pretty princess you’re so hell-bent on keeping from me!” 

Enji roared in anger, but Keigo ignored him. The behemoth swung the morning star again. The ground shook under Keigo’s feet as he rapidly side-stepped, one of the spikes coming just close enough to scrape the metal of his plated leg when it dug deep into the earth. The man anticipated that Keigo would try the same trick again, but Keigo wasn’t a same-trick parrot. He flung his helmet at the man’s head; it clocked him in the forehead, the sharp edge of the wing lacerating the hard, sun-tanned skin. The giant roared and clapped his hands to his forehead, infuriated by the sting; he inadvertently dropped the chain to his morning star. Keigo wasted no time in snatching it up and winding it around the man’s feet. When he pulled the chain tight, the man’s legs smacked together. Unable to bear the weight of his own body, he teetered in place for a second before slowly tipping backwards like an oak falling in a forest. 

Keigo hopped onto the man’s chest as soon as he struck the ground, putting his sword to his throat. The behemoth held up his massive hands in surrender, beady eyes wide. There was a collective silence as the crowd processed that the small knight had defeated such a giant; then, they exploded into deafening cheers. They flung rice grains and white flower petals from the stands, and it rained down on Keigo— but he could care less. 

He drove his sword into the dirt next to the giant’s head, then took off for the pavilion. Several lords and ladies sitting in the lower level screamed as he vaulted into the stands, clambering up the series of benches to get at the elevated box where the royals sat. 

“What the hell are you doing, Hawks?” Enji seethed as the blond man’s sweated, dirty head popped over the edge of the box. Grinning like a madman, Keigo climbed up into the tented pavilion, shouldering aside the two guards that tried to stop him. 

“Claiming my prize,” he said breathlessly. Fuyumi let out a happy whimper and surged up to meet him, embracing him when he swept her up in a passionate kiss. He held her by the hips as he spun her around, devouring her lips like he’d never tasted them before; perhaps he really hadn’t, as they had never been sweeter. Enji growled disgruntledly, but there was nothing he could do; Keigo was the rightful winner of the tourney and was now free to do with Fuyumi as he pleased. When they pulled apart, Keigo gently tucked her hair behind her eyes, smiling happily. 

“I told you, my turtledove,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t lose.” 

“Yes,” she hiccuped happily. Joyful tears streamed down her cheeks as she hugged him close. “I knew you wouldn’t, Keigo.” He peppered kisses all over her face, and she laughed despite the smears of sweat he left on her powdered, perfumed skin. He ripped off his gloves so he could thread his fingers through the soft silky strands of her hair. He admired her for a moment, how beautiful she was with her flushed face and watery eyes, before leaning in for another kiss. As his mouth smoothed over hers, he marveled again at the taste of her, winter-frosted apples. 

No longer was he taking forbidden fruit… Fuyumi was his now, to have and to hold forever, and he was hers. They could take flight however they wished, a hawk and a turtledove flitting through the vanilla skies with no one to cage them. The thought made small tears spring to the corners of his eyes, and he just hugged her close. 

“I love you, my turtledove,” he whispered shakily in her ear. “Now and forever.” 

“And I you, Keigo,” she murmured back just as shakily. “Now and forever.” 

The sky was all theirs now, as the sun shone down on a new tomorrow.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[awkwards]

Kinktober Day 5. Aphrodisiac : Pleasurable Test | Overhaul

Day 5: Aphrodisiac

Title: Pleasurable Test

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Count: 2.2k

Summary: You needed to make ends meet, and so you go to subject yourself to a testing center that will pay. Turns out, you’ve signed yourself up for way more than you expected. You should really read the fine print.

Warnings: Noncon, syringe, aphrodisiac, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, yandere, sadist overhaul

Note: It’s finals week and definitely starting to hit me. Also, thanks for all of the support! If you’d like to be tagged for my kinktober fics, dm me! My inbox is open~

You snarled behind your gag at the man in the lab coat, who was currently coming at you with another needle. When he stepped close, you managed to kick the shot away.

“You can’t even handle one little girl. Pathetic.” A voice you haven’t heard before chides. A man wearing a plague mask and rather large coat with purple feathers stepped in. You could barely see him from where you’re restrained on the operating table. He snaps gloves onto his his, his eyes glaring at the subordinate. “And now that needle is filthy.”

“I’m so sorry sir!” you could see the sweat from the doctor, his face pailing. “She kicked me and it went flying!”

“Begone. I do not wish to hear your excuses.”

“Yes sir.” The guy practically runs from the room.

The man levels his gaze on you, judging.

You quirk an eyebrow at him, challengingly.

You’ve been here for a week. It was supposed to be one test, in which you got paid for. You took it because money was tight and you needed to pay rent. Little did you realize they would keep you kidnapped and subject to their devices because you were the “perfect candidate”.  Your fear has practically been pushed aside by your anger. For a week they’ve been sticking you with needles, running “tests”, keeping you on the edge of functioning. All you had left was your anger and attitude.

“What a nuisance.” The man sighs. His dark eyes scan your barely clothed body.

Quicker than you can move, the man has your legs pinned down, fastened in place just like your arms and neck are. A gasp of shock careens past your lips, silenced by the gag.

“That’s better.” He moves over to the counter where the equipment lays. He turns his back towards you. “Do you know who I am?”

“Well, I assume you’re the one in charge of these monkeys. Do you know who I am?” You bite at him.

“I am Kai Chisaki. You will address me as Overhaul.” He turns slowly, an intense look in his eyes that makes your skin crawl. “I know plenty about you. You are a quirkless individual. Your blood type is AB negative. You’re allergic to penicillin. You’ve lived in this city your whole life. I know you were adopted at the age 5. You had a kidney transplant at the age 12.”

“Your parents were brutally murdered when you were in high school by a villain attack. I know that the villain attack was actually a target for your father’s brother because he made some bad deals with the yakuza.” He grabs a needle and begins to mix a mystery pink liquid into it. You’re shaking by now. How does he know so much?  “You dropped out of high school quickly after, and less than two years later sold most of your adoptive parent’s belongings, and then the house.”

Overhaul takes deliberate and slow steps towards you, tapping the air bubbles out of the needle. “You moved into a seedy little apartment in the middle of town. You work at a small bar across from the noodle shop in the bad part of town because it was the only place that would hire you. This month you couldn’t make ends meet so you showed up here.”

A gloved hand drops onto your arm, thumb soothing over the prominent vein of yours. “And most importantly, I know your name isn’t actually Nakaya Kosuke. You, Miss (y/n), have quite the extensive history.”

You jerk hard at hearing your birth name. No one should know! Only your adoptive parents, who as he stated were dead, and the lawyer that erased your identity knew.

You try to speak through the gag, your words hushed.

An amused dark chuckle falls from him. “Oh, my apologies, did you want to speak?”

You nod your head.

His eyebrows raise, as if debating it. Finally, he unties the back of your gag. You spit it out, breathing in deeply. “Careful now, say something I don’t like and I’ll put it back on. Or I’ll remove your tongue.”

“Why am I here?”

He hums. “You are special. Did you know that your blood type is extremely rare?”

You clench your teeth, glaring at this cocky son-of-a-bitch. “I did.”

“Well, fortunately for us, your blood type was exactly what we’ve been looking for in our experiment. It’s extremely hard to come by a willing participant, too.”

“I’m not willing. I signed up for a test. One.”

His chuckle is light, and his eyes are wide with sadistic mirth. “No. You actually signed up until there was one successful test. So far, none of them have been such. It would appear someone didn’t read the fine print.”

Oh. Oh god. Did you really?

“No worries. You will be fully compensated. Well-” His eyes narrow. “If you live.”

Overhaul begins to prep the vein in your arm. “See, quirks are filthy. Those heroes parading around their quirks are but vermin on this earth. Pathetic. But you - no, you’re corrupted like those who roam the streets. Your blood is pure. Your genes are clean. You and I are far more similar than you might think, y/n.“

“What are you going to do to me?” Fear is fully controlling your mouth now. You shiver as he sanitizes the area he plans on injecting you.

“I have reason to believe that your blood will be the perfect capsule to carry my new invention. It’s a device that will remove the quirks of those who come in contact with it.” The look in his eyes turned wild, excited. You shiver. “My parents were ripped away from me, too. Those heroes did nothing to save them. Yet, they parade around the world as if we, the common folk, owe them. Not for long. Now, don’t make too much of a noise; I’d rather not have to remove your tongue.”

The prepped needle’s cap comes off, and the metal slides into your skin. You whimper, looking away as Overhaul begins to press its contents into your bloodstream. As quick as it began, it ended. He wipes away the lone blood drop before pressing a bandaid against you.

“Normally I would never dream of coming so close to an individual. But you are different from the filth filling this world.” Gloved hands grab your chin, turning you to look into his eyes. “You’re pure. Perfect. And I plan on taking full advantage of that, my sweet Y/N.”

Tears burn your eyes, your lip trembling. You finally let your body relax. This time you were truly fucked. He pulls his hand away, throwing away the needle tip of the syringe. You watch him walk away, back to the counter where he removes his gloves and washes his hands and arms.

A warmth began to fill your system. You shoot a concerned look at Overhaul. It was like your body was warming up from the inside out, your blood beginning to boil. A feverish sweat was spreading over every inch of you. “Something’s wrong.” You croak out.

Overhaul turns back to glance at you, sweaty and blushed. A mild look of intrigue covers his face. “Oh?”

“It’s burning me.” You whine.

Your body is completely uncomfortable now. The warmth feels … different. Wrong even.

“Explain to me what is happening.” He dries his hands leisurely, watching you from across the room before putting on a new, clean pair of rubber gloves.

“I’m hot. It feels like my blood is boiling. I -” you whimper as the slightest movement of your head increases the feeling tenfold. “Please make it stop.”

Overhaul takes his time as he walks back over to you. He runs a finger over your pulsepoint. The single touch sends a wave of pleasure crashing through you, a moan following. “How interesting.”

You’re mortified and confused. You wish you could rub your thighs together at the uncomfortable feeling between them.

“I see now. The molecular constructs of those two vials creates an aphrodisiac.”

You pinch your eyes shut as his single digit drags down your arm, over the hospital gown you have. The thin fabric is too much. It feels as if it’s weighing you down and making it that much harder to breathe.

“I suppose I should relieve you. It’ll be the only way to collect your blood at the right molecular compounds,” He muses to himself, talking out loud as if you’re not there.

Overhaul pulls off the glove on his left hand. “If I hadn’t reassembled you already, I would let you suffer until the side effects wear off. But, because of me, you really are clean. You should thank me.”

Not knowing what to say, you watch the man through your watery tears. He presses his bare hand on your stomach. If you weren’t being restrained, you would have arched into his hand, moaning loud as pleasure floods your core.

When he removes his hand, your whole body shivers as air nips your bare skin. How? “Wh-what?”

He chuckles. “My quirk.”

You watch as Overhaul steps around your pinned body, coming close to your wet sex.

“What a mess you’ve made. Disgusting.” Despite his words, he runs his gloved hand up your right leg, stopping at the stop below your belly button. You can feel your walls flutter.

A choked out “Please,” tumbles from your lips. You’re so turned on it hurts. Your brain can’t think straight anymore.

You moan loudly as a single finger strokes your dripping lips. You roll your hips as best as you can to get more friction. He lets out a proper laugh at your discomfort, sliding his single digit past your folds.

“So needy. What would you do without me? If I wasn’t here to relieve you?”

Your walls flutter around his digit as he runs his finger against your inside. The burning in your blood only seems to increase at the slight relief. “Please, Overhaul please!”

At your pitiful begging, he slides another finger in, stretching your walls. He works the two digits in a slow and methodical pace, scissoring you. You whine and cry, grinding your hips into his fingers. When he curls the two fingers and strokes the spongy spot inside you, a coil snaps, and you cum hard around him.

He doesn’t stop, continuing to pump his fingers inside you. You moan as you come down from your high.

The heat inside dims for the barest of moments before firing back up with a vengeance.

“Did that make you feel better?” He mocks, putting more force behind his motions.

You gasp as the coil of pleasure begins again. “It hurts! I need more, please!”

“Patience, little one. You’ll get your release. Soon, you’ll be begging me to stop.”

As if to prove his point, he uses his thumb to stroke your clit hard. Your walls flutter and drip around his gloved fingers as you feel yourself close to the crest again. “Oh - Oh, oh please!” You wail.

“Cum again, pet.”

You do. Your walls spasm as you tip over, shaking in your restraints as a sigh leaves you.

He doesn’t stop. The fire inside is rapidly dwindling, and you flinch at the touch.

“Oh, are you sensitive already?” He muses. “It won’t last long.”

True to your words, the fire picks up again. You sob as his touch hurts. It hurts yet is relieving you too. Tears stream down your face as you’re overstimulated, but the heat is still there.

“It's almost over. Hold on just a bit longer.”

Overhaul fingers you faster, making the coil of pleasure twist quicker and harder than the last two orgasms. You sob as you near the edge again.

“Last one. Give me one more. Cum over my fingers.”

“I can’t!” You cry out, rocking your hips into his fingers despite what you say.

“You can. And you will.” You can hear the squelching as his fingers target your g-spot, his thumb rolling your clit hard. “Cum again y/n.”

A scream rips from your throat as you’re forced over the edge of another orgasm. Your entire body tenses, and white fills your eyes. Overhaul drags his fingers out of you slowly, making you wince from the overstimulation. He tears the glove covered in cum off of his hand before sliding a new set on.

Panting hard, you come down again, body relaxing. Your blood no longer feels like you’re being boiled alive.

You flinch as a syringe is forced into your arm, and watch in sick curiosity as he draws blood from you. Even the touch of the needle makes you quiver, your entire body too sensitive for touch.

“Shh, it’ll be okay. You did so well.”

You moan, shaking as he places a bandage over your skin again. Your head swims as black dots at the edge of your vision.

You look up at him, and can tell even from behind his mask that he’s smiling. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Rest well, pet.”

Tag list:

@ofthedewthesunlight​ 

[wickednerdery]

Title: Save a Mobius, Ride a Loki: Mort 2 Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Loki, Rick & Morty Pairing/character: Loki & Mobius, Rick & Morty Rating: FRM Summary: “You’re coming with us.” Notes: This is a continuation of the last part and something that’s been stuck in my head since before Loki premiered I’ve been dying to write, so I have. Knowledge of Rick & Morty is helpful, but not required. This story has adult content, language, and violence. For length, etc, there’s a Read More:

“Hey!” Mobius waves big, with both arms, to gain the other two’s attention. “I’d like to talk, can we talk? Hey, hellooo!!” With their fighting he’s able to reach the ship before anyone takes note...and it’s the ship.

“Hold it right there, ass-hole.” It’s like being cursed at by an analogue Miss Minutes, if she were a ship with weapons at the ready.

“Woah, woah, hey, what the fuck?!” Rick’s attention snaps to the man. “You don’t just sneak up on a man’s space cruiser!”

The boy leans over. “You don’t just sneak up on a man’s space cruiser, man.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Yeah, what the fuck is wrong with you?” The boy repeats.

Loki exits the saloon, magic at the ready, as weapons appear in Mobius’ direction. For all their rough start in the interrogation, he admired Mobius and did not wish him harm.

The agent’s hands are already up as he back away. “I...I just want to talk!” He tries to make himself out over the other two. “Can we talk?” Then catches sight of Loki approaching. “Loki, stop!” 

The order halts Loki in his tracks - it is not said in anger, but concern. This is new, from just about anyone. He lets his magic fade, sending only a bit in the other’s direction. A way to protect, to ensure Mobius’ll not be harmed should the others or their ship turn violent.

“Loki, like the Norse god?” Rick’s eyes narrow towards the being. “Mmm…” He belches. “No wonder he took my shit.”

Morty looks over with interest. “I thought Loki had red hair, Rick?”

Rick huffs. “Multiple universes, multiple Lokis.”

“Well, which one is this?”

“How the hell should I know, you think I follow every Loki? Think I’m some kind of Loki-worshipping fangirl that knows every single one there is out there?” Rick starts to think, calculate and eliminate possibilities. “Looks like the Mousey one.”

“Mousey one?” 

“I beg your pardon?” Loki interjects his offense.

Rick pays the god no mind. “Yeah, Mort, you know the one. The one that that mouse-loving company made people fall in love with only to make him progressively weaker and more ridiculous until he’s finally choked out by a giant grape.”

“Oh...yeah...that one.”

If Loki wasn’t so flabbergasted at the commentary, he’d have blasted them both into oblivion.

“Hey, give me back my portal gun, you Mousey son-of-a-bitch!”

Mobius senses the increasing tension, the loss of interest in him. “I have a proposition for you...Rick.”

The elder man turns back to the one standing beside his ship, burps. “Not interested.”

“I think you might be. You’re a man of science, right? Pretty smart guy.”

“I’m not ‘pretty smart’...” Liquor bottles and cans tumble out, spill across the floor, as Rick opens the hatch. “I’m a fucking genius.”

“I know.” Mobius confirms.

Rick scowls, unconvinced, over the mass of liquor bottles. “All right, Brokeback Mobius, thrill me.”

“If looks could kill.” Mobius smiles back, confidently amused. “Here, tell me what you think of this.” He hands the defunct TemPad over.

While Morty shows interest, Rick only gives a cursory look. “Earth-618 TemPad used by the mindless bureaucrats at the Time Variance Authority. It won’t work here.”

“Yeah...we figured that out, but…” The agent shifts, smile remaining. “Maybe you can do something with it.”

“Why?” He tosses it behind him. “I don’t do time travel.”

“No?”

“Time travel’s broke, inter-dimensional space travel’s woke, bro.”

Mobius presses on. “Okay, but someone like you…”

“A genius.”

“Could probably turn it into something else.”

“Sure. I could also turn myself into a pickle or make a robot that gives my grandson nothing but blowjobs and a constant high off Adderall. So what?”

Loki pulls his magic forward, preparing to teleport himself and Mobius in case negotiations go sideways. He’ll not simply hand over the portal gun; something the lad seems to intuit as his eyes set on Loki like a watchdog.

The agent gets up with a sigh. “Never mind, I was wrong thinking you’d want to do anything with a…useless piece of technology.” He collects the TemPad, muttering disappointment. “Probably can’t anyway...”

Rick narrows eyes at him. “Are you trying to bait me? Is that it?” 

“No, no…” Yes, yes, he absolutely was. The man reminds Mobius of Loki, utterly brilliant, and completely unable to resist proving himself. “You’re not interested, I respect that.” He tucks the TemPad into his jacket. “Everyone has their limits.”

Rick gets up, bottle in hand. “Hey, fuck you and your not-ginger Loki, I have no limits!”

“Oh, sure you do.“

Morty whines. “Rick, just freeze them or something so we can grab the portal gun and go!”

“How the fuck am I gonna freeze a frost giant, you dumb little son-of-a-bitch?!” Before the boy has the chance to offer an alternative Rick continues. “There’s no fucking way I’m letting some know-nothing pencil pusher with a secret hard-on for a god of pranks...”

The statement flusters Mobius, throws him off his rhythm, as Rick’s rant continues.

“...Think I can’t do something as simple as turning some shitastic time travel device into something actually worthwhile!”

"Then prove us wrong.” Loki jumps in to point Rick in the direction he and Mobius ultimately need. “Make the TemPad something worthwhile, perhaps another portal gun, and we will return yours.”

“Fine!” Rick snaps, then belches into calm. “But I need my lab.”

“Perfectly understandable.” Mobius chimes back in, simply relieved it’s worked. “We’ll stay here until you return. I promise.” A promise he intends to keep, to make Loki keep.

Morty looks to his grandfather, who looks back, before they both burst into laughter. “Yeah, right, how stupid do we look?” The boy was young, not naive.

“You’re -” Rick belches again. “Coming with us.”

Mobius and I both agreed it best he handle this lest someone end up dead, haha! I’m sure Loki and Rick will interact more later and am excited for him and Mobius to meet the rest of the Smith/Sanchez family. After that they’ll either return to a (different) cowboy world or move on...not sure, lol! (And, for anyone curious Morty is about 14 years old.)

All gifs made found on Google, combined by me, credit goes to whoever their OG makers are!

Those who may read: @holykryptonitekitten @lady-crowned-with-stars @ultrarebelheart @chibiyanai @dreamsofapiratelife @biiskuitx @delightfulheartdream @antoniostarshadow13 @mobiusbmobius​ @zippythewondersquirrel …If you wish to be tagged in future pieces, please let me know!