#i get several unlabeled follows

[kaciidubs]

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ MINE TO SHARE: SHANKS (+???)

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "You were Shanks's the moment he laid his eyes on you. But sometimes he needs to remind you that you being his means he can do whatever he wants with you."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : AMAB! READER, CIS MALE! READER, MALE READER! SMUT! MLM, HOMO SEX (I laugh at this) GAY SEX (laugh again), DUB-CON, NON-CONSENSUAL EXHIBITIONISM (Shanks shows the reader sexy photos without him knowing, the reader is watched during sex without being asked) in this story the reader LIKES all the things that are did with him, even the exhibitionism, if you have any trauma or trigger with that don't read. ASSHOLE BOSS (NOT SHANKS) just a mention of a former idiotic boss, hidden romantic relationships, unlabeled relationship, relationship between boss and employee

꒰ CONTAINS ꒱ : Shanks is mean and soft at the same time but probably more mean, Benn and all of Shanks' friends know you two are fucking, you might want to fuck his friends too, office sex, risk of getting caught, getting caught, makeshift handcuffs and a lot of dirty talk.

꒰ WC ꒱ : 2,3k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : lol o only notice how much warnings I always put, I just want to put everything that can make someone uncomfortable because I hate read a fic when they don't put warning in something and that's get me triggered. Okay so, PLEASE IF YOU ARE A WOMEN DON'T REALLY READ THIS, IT'S NOT ONLY INTERACT DON'T READ, IF I SEE ANY FEM BLOG IN THIS STORY I GONNA BLOCK YOU AND IM SERIOUS

You didn't remember exactly how you got there. Sitting on your boss's lap with his dick so deep in your ass you could feel it reaching your throat. Shanks' hands grabbed your ass hard, squeezing and slapping so hard that made you jump in fright. He used all his strength and the advantage of his size to guide you bouncing on his huge cock, your legs were already wobbly and shaking so all you could do was accept him using you like a toy and fucking you nonstop.

Every time Shanks fucked you he had a different rhythm, which was always decided by his mood that day. Today you weren't sure what the redhead's mood was, but he fucked you with deep and strong thrusts that made you roll your eyes and tremble with each blow, he hit your prostate so accurately and filled your insides so perfectly that you genuinely wondered how you was able to cumming with other partners before Shanks. It seemed impossible for someone to be able to give you pleasure like him.

Of course you were also a mess, thanks to that, you had your head thrown back moaning his name or resting on his shoulder or forehead, moaning breathlessly and begging softly for more. Your hands were dug into his shoulder, scratching so hard that even without big nails you knew there would be marks left for a few days, your head was already hurting and there was a little drool running down the corner of your lips... You looked pathetic, but in the end you liked being humiliated and Shanks liked humiliating you, it was the perfect combination.

You had only entered Shanks' office to give him some reports for the week, he was in his chair with his back to the door facing the huge glass wall that gave him a view of the entire city, advantages of being extremely rich and being able to work on the highest floor of one of the tallest buildings in the city. He was strangely silent and all he asked of you was to come over and deliver the reports... Of course, most of his visits to Shanks' office didn't just end with a conversation between boss and employee.

The truth is that your relationship with the redhead has always been… complicated. It all started when you saw him in person for the first time at a meeting between several city executives disguised as a gala party, at that time you were just an apprentice following your boss and his main secretary like a scared puppy. Your boss was terrible and liked to torture all his employees with the excuse of being an iron training that only the best went through, but he hid this from the spotlight and loved to brag as a boss that no job would leave, taking pride in his loyalty of each of its employees.

Shanks, as always, was a brat at these parties, his social reputation was one of the worst but everyone pretended not to know given how incredible his business empire was, even though he was known for scandals and even visits to countless police stations, the redhead was treated like an angel by everyone the other businessmen who pretended not to know anything about his antics. For some reason you caught his attention, throughout the party where you basically served as a personal waiter for your boss, you felt Shanks staring at you with a predatory gaze ready to grab his prey and run away.

You were still very insecure at that time, you had just left college and your career wasn't going exactly as you planned, maybe that's why you avoided his gaze so much at the beginning. When your boss and Shanks finally spoke, the redhead made no attempt to hide that he was paying attention solely to you and not the ugly old man who was desperate for a business deal. This obviously infuriated his boss who spilled wine on his clothes claiming to have been an oversight. When you kindly excused yourself to go to the bathroom to resolve the situation your boss's secretary simply whispered that you didn't need to go back to the party, when you looked at him confused he just rolled his eyes and said gruffly “you're out”.

This made you swallow deeply and run to the bathroom, you already had a terrible job even if it was in a renowned place and now you had been fired for attracting the attention of a billionaire who you never even dreamed of being in the same room with?! All you could do was rub your wine-stained shirt as you cried and cursed to the tenth generation of your stupid boss and anyone who worked for him. While you were lost in your own world you were unable to notice Shanks entering the bathroom and looking at you with concern.

That night many things happened, you were fired, humiliated, you received a job offer from Shanks who had one of the most successful industries in the country and you also received a small hope that your professional future could work out. The months went by and at some point you and Shanks were already in this arrangement, you weren't even close to being boyfriends, even though he had never had another partner and even though he had never forbidden you from having one, he hated seeing you with anyone else other than him. Your friends joked that Shanks was your sugar daddy since he always gave you money and gifts, but since he never asked for anything in return, not even sex, it didn't seem like the label for you either.

You were something, besides of course friends, but you weren't very determined to find out. You were afraid of falling in love only to find out that Shanks only saw you as a fuck buddy or worse, finding out that Shanks was in love and you only saw him as a fuck buddy! You had sleepless nights thinking about it but little by little you simply gave up making everything difficult. You loved fucking Shanks and Shanks loved fucking you, there was no reason to try to put feelings in or out of this arrangement, as long as it worked for both of you then it was perfect.

Shanks continued fucking you while you faced the office door with your head resting on his shoulder, you lowered your claws to his arm and continued holding him as if you were going to die without his support. He whispered praises and curses every time you leaned into his lap and made his cock all the way inside you, your own cock was twitching on your stomach, your pants were thrown somewhere and your white shirt was open so at least you wouldn't get your clothes dirty. You needed to come so badly, but Shanks' slow pace didn't give you enough stimulation, if he just let you masturbate you could have gotten there, but he liked torturing you.

“Shanks! Please! I! Oh! Shit!" You moaned choppy, disjointed words as you tried to increase your speed, but Shanks' strong hands kept you right where he wanted you.

“Huh? I didn't hear you boy, say it again” He said breathlessly and gave a light bite to your exposed neck “Say how you want my dick to make you see stars, say how you want to be my good boy and cum so much you'll get dirty both of us, tell me” the redhead’s dirty talk always made your belly twitch and your dick leak more, you were losing control and he was loving taking advantage of it.

“Oh! Shanks! Please! I need… Fuck! Faster!" You moaned louder as you felt him slowly increasing his speed, you were ready to beg again when you heard some knocks on the door and Shanks' electronic warning ringing, alerting you that there was someone at the door wanting a meeting with him. “S-Shanks! Stop! There is somebody!"

You tried to get off of him and give him a few pats so he would get the hint and at least he would give you the chance to hide in the bathroom instead of getting caught by someone while fucking your boss. But Shanks didn't seem to care, he quickly turned the chair, turning towards the door and leaving you facing the glass wall, and instead of slowing down or even letting you go, he simply gave your ass a hard slap as he started thrusting into you like the world was ending. He was moving in and out so fast that you became unable to speak, only letting out desperate screams and moans at the sudden increase in stimulation.

“Shit… Don’t squeeze me so much boy… Come in! Come in quickly Benn, I'm kinda busy” He shouted the last part and you tried again to fight Shanks, only to receive an annoyed growl from him as he took off his own tie and used it to tie your wrists behind your back in a clumsy and quick way, but still firm enough for you to be unable to escape. “Stop running away you brat! You came here to get fucked in my office and now you don’t want anyone to see you?” He smiled mischievously when he saw your embarrassed face and the tears of humiliation that were about to fall.

"Stop!" You sniffled at him and hid your face in his neck, you heard the door opening and you knew that soon Benn, the vice CEO and someone who had as much power as Shanks, would be able to see you bouncing on the redhead's dick like a real whore.

"To stop? But I feel you clenching around my cock…” he chuckled at you and stroked your back gently “You're acting like you hate this… But I see how you look at my men, you perverted boy, I'm sure you'd love it getting fucked by all of us at the same time, right? After all, all that’s going on in that stupid little head of yours is being filled with cock in all your holes, right?” He laughed teasingly and when you just whimpered without responding he finally seemed to get angry, so he grabbed your penis tightly, squeezing its sensitive head. “I asked a fucking question.”

You just screamed, feeling the ecstasy overwhelm you to the point where your vision went black and you felt your whole body go limp, you had just cum in Shanks' hand just from his dirty words and tight grip on his sensitive and neglected dick. You fell against him crying and panting, your dick trembled as it continued to leak some more cum, Shanks simply laughed and stopped fucking you, letting you calm down slowly.

“Did you see that Benn? He simply came when I accused him of wanting to be fucked by all of us” Shanks laughed at that as if it were a joke and you almost forgot that the other man had entered the room, but now you could smell his cigarette and his malicious laugh.

“S-Shanks…” you begged whimpering as you tried to hide against his body, you had no idea what you were asking for, but it was clear that Shanks always knew you and your body much better than you knew yourself.

“Hmmm… I would even let it go this time, but you hid this beautiful spectacle of you cumming, didn’t you feel sorry for Benn? He came here and missed the entire show…” he said a little more gently as he rubbed his nose against your hair “Now I can’t just let you go and leave my friend empty handed… Besides, you didn’t even make me cum… No, No, you were really a bad boy…”

You no longer had the strength to argue or fight against the redhead, he quickly grabbed you and turned you around to face Benn. Now you were a complete and pathetic exposure, Shanks' cock was still thrusting deep into you, your own cock was a little soft, already extremely tired after having an intense orgasm, your abdomen was dirty with your cum and your entire body was dripping with sweat. You had a tired and cloudy look, a face that was drunk but kept begging for more and more.

Shanks smiled and grabbed your face with his hand, squeezing your cheek as he whispered in your ear “Open that mouth wide and stick your tongue out my boy… Give them a good look” you did as he said as he was squeezing her cheeks and forcing your mouth open. You hadn't understood what he was planning, your head too tired and confused to try and guess the man's plans.

It was only when you heard the click and flash of your cell phone that you realized, Benn was in front of you with his own cell phone and had just taken a picture of you practically naked being fucked on your boss's lap. The damage and scandals that a photo like that could cause made you feel sick, but luckily Benn's mischievous smile and his hard penis over his dress pants indicated that his goal wasn't to destroy your life.

“How was it?” Shanks asked the gray-haired man playfully.

“Perfect, you weren't lying when you said that his face when he cum was perfect… Huh, Hongo is going to love this…” He quickly placed his cell phone on Shanks' desk and approached you.

“Now… My brat” Shanks kissed your cheek and smiled against you making your whole body shiver “Why don’t I show you that you belong to me completely to the point where I can do whatever I want with you?” He offered with a smile, “And by ‘whatever you want’ I obviously mean sharing… After all, you’re a good pet and you’re not going to let Benn go so hard, are you?”

You didn't need to answer for the two older men to start smiling, everyone knew you never refused an order from Shanks.

[casualaruanienjoyer]

Mikasa and Jean (post rumbling) babysitting.

Oh anon, this was a very fun one to write! It's a bit long, I hope you don't mind! 👀

Babysitting

When Jean and Mikasa learned about Annie’s pregnancy they were overjoyed. The recently married lovebirds made their announcement during dinner, where everyone had been invited.

Jean teased Armin to no end while Mikasa comforted Annie, making sure she was doing well. They were like family after all, the four of them alongside Connie, Pieck, Reiner and Levi. They celebrated all night long.

But no one expected their kid to turn out to be such a little brat. Well, all toddlers are assholes, but their little girl was spoiled to death. Both Armin and Annie wanted Iris to have the life they never got to have, so they gave her everything, from toys to clothes and infinite affection. They had been a bit too lenient. Too soft.

“For fuck’s sake!” Jean shouts, running around the living room with a butterfly net. “Come back here you little shit!!”

Iris is only one year and a half, but already has an attitude the size of a Colossal titan.

She refused to eat anything Mikasa cooked her and then, when they weren’t looking, escaped her high chair to roam through the house unattended.

“Jean, be careful!” Mikasa holds up a blanket, trying to capture the little monster.

Jean and Mikasa had offered to keep an eye on her for a few hours while Armin and Annie went away on a little trip. They REALLY needed a break from parenting, even for just a bit.

Both of them agreed to meet up at the Arlert residence to babysit Iris. It all seemed easy at the start.

“Got ya!” Mikasa says triumphantly, catching Iris in her blanket, wrapping it around her and lifting her up. She glances over at Jean, smiling, proud of herself.

But Jean really underestimated how difficult caring for a kid was. Especially while his and Mikasa’s relationship was still uncertain.

Yes. Uncertain. Undefined. Unlabeled. Were they dating? I mean they hugged before, once or twice. And their fingers had touched on some occasions. But Jean really didn’t want to push his luck, with Mikasa’s feelings toward Eren possibly still lingering.

“Haha, got ya you little fuck! You’re going straight back into your crib. No more play time.” Jean laughs, still panting from running around.

“Jean, you really shouldn’t talk like that around her.” Mikasa scolds him. “She’s a fast learner”.

“Of course she talks a lot, just like her dad” Jean crosses his arms. “That guy never shuts up!”. Mikasa nods, tickling Iris who giggles in return.

“Horsie!” Iris laughs, reaching out for some of Jean’s loose hair.

“Huh?! Not you too!”

Mikasa’s hand covers her mouth, muffling a few laughs. Jean lifts an eyebrow at her reaction and she turns her face away.

“No, Iris, my name is Jean. Jeeaann.” He repeats slowly, trying to get Iris to say his ACTUAL name.

Iris frowns, sticking out her tongue and turning towards Mikasa. She was a lot more fond of her than Jean. Mikasa was better at handling kids in general. She took care of Eren and Armin after all. And kids just gravitated towards her.

She was kind and soft. Had a lovely smile and a beautiful face. But she was also a badass, and could lift insane amounts of weights, including several kids at once. This is partly why kids gravitated towards her. She was like a superhero to them.

And given how much Mikasa had gone through, she was pretty much a superhero to Jean himself. Her scars were deep, too deep for kids to notice them. But Jean knew everything, he had seen Mikasa break and rebuild herself time and time again. He has no idea how she kept moving forward even after Eren’s death.

“I don’t think she’ll say your name anytime soon, Jean '' Mikasa adds, stroking Iris’s back. “It’s not exactly easy to pronounce”.

“And Mikasa is? She didn’t have issues saying that one!” Jean scoffs.

“I mean, she can’t say Arlert yet either. And her Reiner sounds more like ‘laina’ than anything” Mikasa moves to leave the living room and Jean follows her upstairs.

“True, I mean she’s still so small. But one day she’ll say Jean.” He smirks. “-Best uncle Jean-, to be precise”.

“But Connie’s her favourite uncle.” Mikasa opens the door to Iris’s room.

“For now. Give her some time and she’ll realise who the cool uncle really is!” Jean holds the door for her.

“I’m pretty sure she likes you the least.” She says flatly. “Even Levi’s higher on her list of ‘cool uncles’ and he made her cry the first time they met” Mikasa places Iris in her crib.

“Harsh” Jean pouts, passing Iris her favourite toy, a whale plushie. “So, who do -you- think is the coolest uncle?”. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms.

“Just so you know, I think all of you are very uncool” Mikasa tucks Iris in. It’s time she had a nap. “But if I had to pick, I think you’re the most fun to be around” she says softly while caressing Iris’ forehead.

“Oh?” Jean lifts an eyebrow. “Really? Well, miss Ackerman, I think you’re a pretty cool uncle yourself.”

Mikasa snorts. He always knew how to make her laugh.

“Very funny Jean.” She stands, pushing some hair behind her ear. “She’s asleep, we should let her be for a while.”

“Alright, we’ll check on her in a bit. Let’s take a break” and they turn off the light and leave the room, closing the door carefully.

“Alright, 30 minutes left.” Jean looks at his watch. “We’re almost done with her”.

They decide it would be best to hang out somewhere close by just in case Iris wakes up early, so they enter the guest bedroom next door. Mikasa rests on the bed while Jean falls into a comfortable armchair next to it.

“She’s a menace” Jean mutters. “So stubborn, just like her mom.”

“I don’t know, Armin can be pretty stubborn himself.” Mikasa chuckles, leaning back against her arms. “But she’s fast and climbs everywhere. I think she got Annie’s agility.”

“She’s pretty much a copy of Annie. They look so similar.”

“Yeah…”

There was silence for a while, Jean fiddling with his shirt while Mikasa glanced out the window.

“Thanks for doing this with me” she breaks the silence, crossing her legs on the bed.

“Of course, those hopeless dorks really needed help. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Armin so tired in my life.” he leans against his hand. “Besides, I like spending time with you” he mutters.

Mikasa smiles and shifts a bit closer to him, now facing each other.

“I like spending time with you too, Jean.” she pauses, playing with her fingers. “We should do it more often.”

Jean’s eyes widen. “You… you’d like that?”

“Yeah. You always make me laugh.”

“You do have a nice smile” Jean says, and Mikasa’s blush provokes his own. He takes a moment to reply. “And a nice…well… everything else”. Oh no, did he overstep?

“Jean…” she sounds serious, and Jean is about to get up and leave. But Mikasa stops him. “Stay. We need to talk”

“About what?” Jean asks, flustered. “I’m sorry, Mikasa. I said to-”

“No, you didn’t. I also…think you’re nice. Y-your smile…” her voice is small, like a whisper. “And everything else too”.

Jean is stunned. What was happening? Was Mikasa… flirting with him?? He must be reading between the lines.

But then she gazed at him with a spark in her eyes, rosy cheeks and furrowed brows in a way he’s never seen her do before and he can’t stop himself from leaning in and kissing her soft lips. They stayed like this for a second which felt like an eternity. But then Jean pulled away, covering his mouth. “I’M SO SORRY-!” He stands up, kicking the armchair behind him. Now he’s done it.

But Mikasa pulls him back down, kissing him again much more powerfully than he had done moments before and he loses his balance, falling over her on the bed.

He pushes himself up on his arms. “Hey, what are y-” but she kisses him again, and again. Jean can’t think straight and before he knows it one hand is in her hair and the other one rests on her waist, playing with the hem of her blouse. How long were they like this for? Were they really…

“MAKING OUT?” Annie shouts, the door slamming open. Armin’s in the door frame too, holding Iris but covering her eyes. Her face is plastered in what looks like pie.

“WHILE IRIS IS DOWNSTAIRS, IN THE KITCHEN NO LESS!” She’s fuming, slowly making her way towards the bed.

"Fuck!" Iris giggles, and everyone goes quiet. Annie turns to glare at Jean and a shiver runs down his spine. “JEAN KIRSTEIN, YOU ARE A DEAD MAN”.

If Jean died right now, he’d be a happy man.

💜This fic is now also on AO3 !

[wolfie-d00dles]

My version of Monster High G3 (part 1)

These are a work in progress, and there are definitely more to come! It does take me several hours to complete one drawing simply because I want to put my love and dedication into my designs, and I want each character’s personality and story to be reflected in their look. Please enjoy ⚡️🧠🐾

More in-depth descriptions under the cut!

⚡️Frankie Stein (They/Them)⚡️

Frankie’s personality in G3 is very energetic and quite literally electric. They have dreams of becoming a monster surgeon, and they also enjoy STEM activities such as building gadgets and attachments to their body. In my design I wanted to give them a unique, almost neon-punk mad scientist, style. I feel like Frankie finds reflecting their unique identity in their self-expression to be very important. I kept their gender identity and sexuality pretty canon to the show because I think it’s amazing to see for a main character. Also as a neurodivergent person I see myself in Frankie and their personality a lot, which is why in my version they are absolutely neurodiverse in some way.

Flags/Symbols Included: Neurodivergent infinity symbol, non-binary flag, lesbian flag

🧠Ghoulia Yelps (She/They)🧠

I know there’s a lot of dislike for Ghoulia’s new character in G3, but honestly I really do like seeing her being portrayed as a gamer ghoul type nerd versus being a numbers and tech nerd like in G1. I think her character design needs a bit of work though. In my design she’s kind of a more realistic gamer in terms of dress I feel like, and also has a bit of edge as well. I headcanon them as being slightly emo and it shows in their style hence the classic beanie, plugs, converse, and hoodie/t-shirt combo. And I feel like she’s the type to wear strictly pajama pants and sweatpants due to sensory reasons (jeans are evil), but they usually have some kind of graphic patterns on them! I feel like a good aspiration for them would be learning how to code and create video games. I could also see them enjoying animation as well, potentially incorporating their own animations into games. Also, I’m taking away the skater ghoul aspect completely just because I think the animation and video game/coding hobby is a lot more interesting!

Flags/Symbols Included: Neurodivergent infinity symbol, bisexual flag, demisexual flag.

🐾Clawdeen Wolf (She/They)🐾

Clawdeen’s character revamp in G3 is another controversial one that I see the fandom divided on as well. A lot of people miss her glamorous and fierce style, while others embrace the change. I personally adore Clawdeen’s new look, and I definitely leaned into it in my version. I felt like I just had to make her a tumblr ghoul. Idk what the Monster High equivalent of Tumblr would be, but she’d definitely be on there with blogs about books, following fan fiction tags, and aesthetic mood boards and photos. I totally get those vibes from the OG design, but I needed to see them in a beanie, flannel, tattoo choker, distressed/cuffed skinny jeans, doc martens. I also just had to give her the galaxy wolf shirt her doll outfits always have a celestial theme and galaxy print was THE shit.

Flags/Symbols Included: Unlabeled flag, queer flag

[mordenheim]

Are we happy? (A)

(This gets a letter next to it because I accidentally wrote two tales from the same prompt. The next will be posted tomorrow)

Liam made his way slowly down the long hallway. The paint on the walls was a yellowish off white, like people had gathered in the hall to smoke years ago. Both walls were lined with evenly spaced dark wooden doors that all looked identical except for the sequential numbers on them. The worst part was the entire hall curved just slightly to the left before him, meaning that it slowly vanished out of sight just a bit up ahead.

Finally, he saw the end of the hallway come into view. A tall glass door with a sleek metal frame. There, etched into the glass to look like it was made of frost were the words.

“Dr. Alvin Ein, Psychiatrist”

The red panda straightened his tie and reached out to grip the door handle. Ice cold as usual. He idly wondered how much the doctor paid for air conditioning as it often felt like he was walking into a refrigerator instead of an office. He rubbed at the back of his head, his mop or unkempt brown hair falling in front of his eyes before he combed it back with his fingers. Seeing that the secretary was absent again, he walked right across the room and into the doctor's private office.

The elderly rabbit looked up from the folder lying open on his desk, smiling as his patient entered. He leaned back in his chair as he steepled his fingers together.

“Ah, Mr. Faebourne. I was wondering when you would arrive. Please, take a seat on the couch and we can get started.”

Sighing, Liam sat down on the couch, turning to lean back on the smooth leather and try to relax. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a slow, cleansing breath in through his maw and slowly let it out through his nose.

“Excellent, have the breathing exercises helped any?”

“They've helped with my sleep, but not much else, Doctor.”

“Hmm... I see. Getting a little desperate, too? I see in your chart that you've signed up for experimental treatments. Are you still open to these?”

Liam blinked, expecting to feel nervous, but he felt nothing at all. That was his whole problem. Depression had robbed him of his emotions. He was never happy, or sad, or angry, or anything at all. He just existed and honestly was tiring of it all. He needed to feel something somehow.

“Yes, Doctor. Did you have something in mind?”

Rolling his wheelchair from behind the desk, he picked up a black doctor's satchel from the floor and set it in his lap. Her wheeled himself over to the couch and patted him on the forearm. “I do. An experimental drug I've been developing for someone with just your problem. If it works properly in just a few days you should be right as rain.”

The red panda watched at the rabbit took a small, unlabeled brown glass vial from his bag along with a syringe. He pushed the needle through the cap and drew out a small amount of a bluish fluid. Tapping the side to get rid of the bubbles he depressed the plunger to force out any trace of air, a bit spraying into the air.

“Now, tilt your head to the side and hold still please.”

Liam nodded, then held perfectly still. He felt a sharp sting in the side of his neck followed by a coolness that spread rapidly from the injection site through most of his body. He felt his muscles slowly relax, and a drowsiness wash over him, his thoughts were clouded for a moment before clearing.

“And three, two, one...”

The panda gasped, gripping the sides of the sofa. He could feel the muscles in his face slowly tightening, drawling the corners of his mouth upwards. The skin of his thin lips tightened more and more until pain shot through his face as it started to split in several places. His heart raced as he felt the first real emotion in years. Fear. Real, gut churning fear. He tried to speak, to tell the doctor something was wrong but he couldn't. He couldn't move at all. It was like he was trapped in his own body.

“There we are. Why don't you sit up for me please, Mr. Faebourne.”

Liam's mind was in a blind panic as he felt and saw his body responding, slowly sitting up in one fluid motion without him telling it to. He wanted to scream in terror, but just smiled that rictus grin at the doctor.

“Now stand.”

Again, without even a thought, his body pushed itself to his feet. It was like he was trapped in the back seat of his own mind, just watching everything that was happening.

“There, there Mr. Faebourne. Are we happy?”

His body slowly nodded it's head while he raged and screamed within, unable to do anything at all. He felt a mix of terror and rage as his eyes locked on the rabbit in the wheelchair against his will.

“Very good. Now, I want you to go home, pack up all of your important items as though you were leaving on an extended trip. Then you will bring them back here. I will give you further instructions when you return.”

Unable to resist in any way, he was dragged along with his body. It nodded understanding at the doctor once more before turning from him and confidently striding out through the door.

[breathofthewildwritings]

*grips your shoulders* I cannot stress enough how much I need Rauru/Reader/Sonia polyamory headcanons. Pleeeeeaaaassseeee.

(SFW and NSFW if you would be so kind!)

To me, when it comes to Rauru/Reader/Sonia polyam content, the most interesting scenario/AU to explore would be where the reader is the one sent to the past instead of Zelda, and they inadvertently alter the timeline in such a drastic way that it pulls an Age of Calamity and the series of events leading to BotW/TotK never happen in the first place.

Perhaps Ganon’s war against the fledgling Hyrule is less severe, or perhaps Rauru and Sonia are warned and prepared by the reader’s existing knowledge to let him get too powerful in the first place. Maybe the reader has divine powers themselves in some form?

I’ll make the Ganon redemption I want to see in the world.

Regardless, the reader is sent back to the age of the first king and queen of Hyrule, and is then faced with the challenge of changing the flow of time and fate itself. Lots of interesting concepts to explore within that! But of course you asked for headcanons, so let me offer some with that rambling preface out of the way:

-

The relationship develops a bit jarringly at first between yourself and the Hyrule royals, jumping from awkward strangers to sweet confidants, and then to abrupt lovers without much warning. Part of this is due to the frantic response you have from being plucked straight out of your own timeline and they being the only ones who know about the truth, but it’s also in part to the fact that there is a strange sort of connection the three of you share.

For the people in Hyrule after all, it is often said that all good things come in threes—wealth, prosperity, even love. It doesn’t help at all that both Sonia and Rauru are both genuinely interesting people to be around. Sonia’s wit can be as sharp as her tongue, while Rauru is a man of many stories and a lovely voice with which to tell them. They are both natural leaders, and it isn’t difficult for one seeking comfort to find it in the king and queen’s presence. Sonia’s careful touch, Rauru’s soothing voice… how far can the intimate comfort of a stranger in a strange time go before one thinks to talk about it openly?

In fact, nobody *does* talk about it for a long while, leaving things unlabeled and unmentioned until someone else entirely asks about it, perhaps even thinking it a funny joke—things are so entwined between the three of you that it’s difficult to tell whether the king or queen is the one who has a consort. Emotions unwind like a ball of yarn tumbling down a hill from there, leading to multiple awkward conversations and only the occasional lingering glance and raised eyebrow from Mineru who, perhaps more than anyone, understands some of her younger brother’s protective body language.

Sonia at least is the most forthright. She is the one to verbalize her emotions first and without very much hesitation at all, while Rauru takes a little more time to do so himself—perhaps it is a culture difference, a particular form of courtship for Zonai that he’s unable to follow. Perhaps he’s unsure how people will treat you or if they might see you as any lesser than they are as the forming couple of the new kingdom. All the same, he admits to his feelings shortly after Sonia does, though it takes a while for them to figure out how to present the relationship to their court without it being misinterpreted.

[Spicy headcanons below the cut:]

The first time you, Sonia and Rauru have sex, it is before anything is established or even *talked* about—a purely spur-of-the-moment series of actions and reactions, though there is never a moment where either the king or the queen treat it as something they regret. It’s a bit scary in a way, being a third party not only in an established relationship, but a royal one at that; but Rauru is attentive and Sonia is calming, and you are left scarcely able to concentrate between the pleasure of their lips, hands and bodies.

Be it due to the queen’s powers of time or the king’s inhuman heritage, but they have a combined sexual stamina that is either terrifying or mind-blowing depending on one’s perspective—this fact is learned repeatedly through the night of your first encounter with them, though you never quite get used to the fact that they’re completely capable of going through an entire evening without a blink of sleep.

Godspeed to you if you have a mommy and/or daddy kink, since the royal couple is more than capable, willing, and enthusiastic about partaking in such carnal desires.

[seepunkrun]

Notes from the Nov 12 OTW Public Board Meeting

Today's Agenda:

Decisions made since the last public board meeting

Welcome new Board members

Announce officer roles

Diversity update

Any other business

Decisions taken since last meeting:

Approved Finance requests

Approved new chairs for Fanlore, Support, and Strategic Planning

Granted preliminary approval for complaint management system

Created Twitter report for impersonation account

Approved new committee formation - Board Assistants Team

Approved new chairs for Board Assistants Team

Signed onto a letter opposing the Stop CSAM Act introduced in the US Senate

This meeting ran much more smoothly than the last due to the new rules and the way questions were handled. The first roll call showed 91 guests, and the last showed 88. Anh, as president, ran the meeting and got through the cut and paste business quickly, leaving 40 minutes for questions.

The diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) update was very brief but contained long awaited news:

We're delighted to announce that we've signed a contract with a consulting firm, who will be working with us on an organizational culture audit. (If you were wondering about the unlabeled $96,000 line item in the budget, this was it!) The consulting firm has already completed an initial survey and begun interviewing volunteers, and will continue this process over the next few weeks. DEI subject matter experts will be involved and consulted throughout the process. We are incredibly excited to work with them and make the OTW a better, more inclusive place!

Later, in response to my question asking for more details, Zixin said they would not be sharing information about the firm in order to protect them from possible harassment and that they don't have a sense of how many people at the firm will be working on this or for how long. They expect a preliminary report by the end of January 2024 and will give updates at the next public meeting.

Considering how long we've been waiting for progress on the DEI consultant, getting a report from them by January feels lightning fast, but history suggests the next Board meeting won't be until March, so it'll probably be a while before that information reaches us.

Also of note was the question of paid staff: Has the board been looking into hiring a volunteer to look into hiring paid staff? Is there a timeline for hiring paid staff?

Kathryn S responded:

We do have a timeline for Paid Staff Transition in our Strategic Planning 2023-2026: The Volunteers & Recruiting Committee has been working on finding an external HR firm for the organization for several months. There are two main goals behind for the OTW behind this initiative: • To help the OTW create a better environment for its volunteers by reviewing our current org-wide policies and procedures and creating new ones when needed; • To help the OTW transition from a fully volunteer-based organization to hiring our first employee. The committee has interviewed several firms, but the size and global scope of the OTW's volunteer and user bases make it a complicated project. They are still meeting with candidate firms and exploring potential alternatives.

I asked a follow up to this, a request for an update on the search for a Paid Staff Transition Officer, but it did not make it before the Board during the relevant conversation, or in the meeting at all. I used the double arm (o//) to indicate it was a follow up question, but it still depended on votes to get in front of them, which feels like a flaw in the system, but I'll get an answer eventually, see below.

People asked a lot of good questions, and we got answers for the promised ten, even though it made the meeting run about twenty minutes longer than its scheduled hour. Some of the topics covered: confidentiality policy for Board and the emergency procedures promised to volunteers; Finance investing OTW's money to avoid being solely dependent on donors; evaluation and improvement of the Constructive Corrective Action Procedure (CCAP procedure); progress on the ToS review; proposed subcommittee to handle complaints and conflicts within the OTW; complaint management system for volunteers.

If you'd like to learn more, I recommend joining the OTW Discord and reading back through the #public-board-meetings channel, which is pretty straightforward now that Board members are the only ones allowed to post there. If you've already joined, you can use this link to jump to the top of the Nov 12 meeting.

The meeting closed with the news that the Board is planning to release a high-level overview of their timeline that includes their goals for the 2023-2024 Board Year at the next public meeting.

The questions that didn't get answered during this meeting will be answered in the #questions-answers channel starting in two weeks. So expect those around November 26, when the Board will begin posting weekly Q&A threads.

[burnt-to-cynders]

Okay, I’m gonna stick to the raw evidence I’ve seen, so here’s the facts that I have available to me.

I have barely ever even seen predstrogen post pictures, period, let alone seen a mistagged nsfw picture on her blog. That doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened, but I can’t find it so I can’t assume it’s there.

On the other hand, I have seen examples of several anonymous asks, sent both to her and other tumblr users about her, that would definitely constitute harassment.

A few of those asks were sent by non-anonymous users and all the one’s I have seen have been banned

I have seen the cars and hammers post.

The cars and hammers post is so hilariously not a threat I’d be laughing if the subject of the post were not taking it as an excuse to ban a trans woman for life from the platform he executives.

Several different tumblr users have pointed out that there is an ongoing harassment campaign against predstrogen, presumably referring to the asks I mentioned in 2.

@photomatt answered an ask last night about the growing sentiment among trans women on tumblr that staff is transphobic, in which he claimed that she had made multiple TOS violations, including posting unlabeled nsfw pictures, threatening people, and harassing them. He also misgendered her initially, but edited the post after several people pointed it out(although first he changed the wording to refer to “the account��)

When pressed to show these tos violations, Matt provided a screenshot of (initially url-less, later shown to be) predstrogen commenting on how she thought posting about her death wishes about Matt would get her banned, which he later added the context of the above post being the cars and hammers post.

Predstrogen’s account was banned, as well as the second account(apparently she has had to make new accounts a few times due to getting banned for similar issues, but I’ve only followed her for less than a year) she made to document most of the things that happened to her.

Specifcslly, her first account was banned after posting a completely sfw transition timeline photo, and her second account was banned right after posting a screenshot of the above mentioned reply, with more or less incredulity at the fact that the ask response referenced contacting the police and fbi.

Matt seems to be taking the backlash personally, publicly apologizing for the perceptions of transphobia on his personal blog and lamenting the initial ask reply. He has not done anything to indicate a reversal on the predstrogen decision, and insists that there are many more examples of harassment from her. He has answered several more asks and repeatedly encouraged people to “not patronize a business you think is transphobic”

SO, what can we draw from these facts? Well, one thing I can say, for sure, is that with what I currently know and what I have seen, predstrogen should not have been banned. Unless Matt has some significantly more egregious examples of threats, or examples of harrassment(people calling you transphobic isn’t harassment), or any examples of an unlabeled mature post(hell I don’t think I’ve even seen a labeled mature posts on her blog), then I think any bans applied to her accounts are in error and if staff are sitting on a big pile of nothing and not doing that, that is gonna draw their morality and ability to effectively moderate this site into even further question than it has been.

The terfs I’ve seen harassing Rita, at least when they’re stupid enough to leave their names visible, have been banned. I can’t follow the thread to see if claims about them being able to easily remake accounts and continue doing terf shit because i don’t run in terf circles enough to know who they were and what happened afterward. Assuming they aren’t back, this is a good thing, and I’ll give that point of credit where it’s due. However, it is worth noting that while Rita remains banned, this still looks like transphobia and deplatforming and threatening a trans woman(actually threatening her. With, y’know, the fbi). If I wanted to be extremely uncharitable, I could point out that banning terfs and trans women doesn’t make a space safe for trans women, and in fact makes it look like you’re only banning the terfs so you can say “well we don’t allow terfs so we can’t be transphobic!”

Conclusión: Im really disappointed with staff and with tumblr’s ceo in particular. It’s not hard to see why a lot of popular trans blogs are considering moving off platform and tons more are expressing general frustration. In particular, what has happened to predstrogen demonstrates a terrifying cycle that scares me and makes me worried for my own safety if I ever attract a large following on here. She has been targeted by terfs, apparently for years, in an open harassment campaign and has been threatened multiple times. She has referenced having stalkers. She is repeatedly suspended for community violations that are later referred to as “bugs”, but then suddenly one day she’s banned permanently for a post that doesn’t violate tos at all, and when she makes another account to call attention to this wrongful ban, she is banned again and threats about bringing in law enforcement are made by the ceo of the website. A woman that is the subject of years of harassment and credible threats to her safety is being gaslit about being the perpetrator of those very same things, and nothing is being brought to light to verify those claims.

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Paws for Applause - Chapter One 'Anatolian'

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> James "Bucky" Barnes x Original Nonbinary Character (Soldierbug)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> After his time in Wakanda, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is struggling to adapt back to life in the wider world, hiding out in the Pacific Northwest as he fights to regain some control over his life. Or: Bucky gets a dog, and meets a cute salesperson.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 4546

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (T) Panic attack, trauma references, medical prejudice and medication disdain, general PTSD things, anxiety, vulnerability, implied alcohol abuse.

𝐀/𝐍 -> PSA: Do not get a dog after such a short contemplation period please! This is a work of fiction, and we didn't want to write several months of pro-con weighing. Make informed choices, y'all.

Check it out below, or on AO3 here! Dividers by us!

Chapter Two->

Prompts used;

- 'Anxiety' - Build a Bucky Bingo (July) @buckybarnesevents; - ‘Goats’ – @buckybarnesbingo (B049); - ‘Vibranium’ – Bucky Barnes Bingo (B005); - ‘Leash’ and ‘New to the City AU’ – Bug’s First Bingo; - "I Need Help." – @fandom-free-bingo, Flight Edition;

- 'Puppy or Play Mate' - @julybreakbingo (4x4); - 'Earbuds in Public or Strangers in a Checkout Line' - July Break Bingo (5x5) - 'Emotional' - July Break Bingo (6x6); - ‘Amputee or Paralysed’– July Break Bingo (7x7); - 'Drowning or Drowning Your Sorrows' - July Break Bingo (Summer);

- 'Double Standards' - @multifandom-flash Discrimination; - ‘Adopt a Pet’ – Multifandom-Flash New Year Gen; - ‘Pet Store AU’ – Multifandom-Flash Round 2 (Card 1027); - 'Difficulty Breathing' - Pick Your Poison @hurtcomfort-bingo (C025).

I sighed as I dropped to the bed, forearms resting on my knees as I took in the dimly lit room, accompanied by a melancholy orchestra of squeaking springs.

Steve had found me exactly what I had requested - small, discreet, and unlikely to attract any unwanted attention. The studio certainly fulfilled all criteria, the small windows along one wall looking only into an alley woven with shadows, offering the privacy I craved.

The building seemed largely abandoned, save a few similarly reclusive tenants; most of the bells at the front door were unlabelled, and those that were claimed were faded and yellowing, the curled edges of the tape thick with dust. The entire place seemed stagnant, lost in time amongst the sleek modernity of a continuously evolving city. But I felt at home amongst the 50s sconces and age-worn carpets – far more comfortable than I had in the high-tech metropolis that made up most of Wakanda.

I looked down at the black and gold metal that made up my left arm, fingers reflecting in the weak light as they flexed slowly. The advanced prosthetic was the only reminder of my time in the African nation – that, and the seemingly enduring clarity in my mind.

It had taken a month after Ayo’s test for me to even consider that I may no longer be controlled, ordered to acts of evil by the darkest of minds – and to allow Steve to visit me in my new life as a goatherd.

I wondered for the hundredth time, looking around the dim, sparse room, if I had made a huge mistake.

The query persisted throughout the evening, following me doggedly as I unpacked my meagre possessions from a tatty holdall. My belongings were limited to a few sets of clothes, some basic toiletries – and a handgun that had me lay on my back in the dust beneath the bed, tongue between my teeth as I fitted the holster to the wire frame.

Maybe I was paranoid – but I’d rather be paranoid than dead.

One of my biggest concerns about being back in the ‘wider world’, as Steve called it, was just how wide – and, more importantly, unprotected – it really was. The list of people who would like my head on a pike was far from short, with Steve’s own teammate being one of them.

Things had been complicated since I’d last seen the team; while the divided factions had eventually come back together, there was still tension at times, particularly when the Accords came up. The majority were working to get through it, making their peace with the eventual conclusion that the conditions laid out in the Accords would work in a perfect world – but this world wasn’t perfect. It was messy, and chaotic, and unpredictable. While the Avengers could – and would – make mistakes, they wouldn’t make choices based on politics or power. Their only interest would always be minimising harm.

But Tony was the outlier.

While the others worked to overcome their animosity, seeing the clear need for peace, Tony stayed angry – at both sides of the schism, but particularly with Steve. He’d never forgiven my friend for defending me, and since learning that Steve knew of my whereabouts, his fury had only grown.

In Wakanda, I found comfort in the knowledge that the country’s location was a well-guarded secret, with a barrier surrounding the nation obscuring and protecting it from anyone who may stumble across it by chance. For all his intelligence, even Tony hadn’t known the real nature of Wakanda before they were ready. If there was anywhere in the world I couldn’t be found – by both Tony and others alike – it was Wakanda.

I at beans cold from the tin, leaning against the bedframe, settled with my arms on my knees in my nest on the ground. One of the first things I’d done had been to take Steve’s carefully made sheets from the bed and rearrange them on the floor, an irrational pang of guilt pulling at my gut.

Steve had worked hard to set it all up for me – especially without Tony knowing – and had seemingly thought of everything, from basic furnishings to a few home comforts. But I didn’t have the energy or motivation to cook, despite the food in the fridge, and I hadn’t slept in a bed in longer than I cared to remember; the knowledge that it was a comfort I didn’t deserve was far too ingrained in my mind to allow such behaviour.

It was after I’d set the empty tin on the floor, letting the shifting colours of a kid’s movie lull me, that I dared to acknowledge the other reason that I’d felt safer in Wakanda.

It wasn’t just that I was protected from the outside world in the secluded African nation; perhaps more importantly, the outside world was protected from me. Even after my apparent deprogramming, I fought vehemently with Steve about leaving Wakanda, citing my concerns about being a target – and potentially putting the rest of the team at risk, too. When he came back to me, having secured an apartment and a new identity for me, I’d reluctantly admitted that I feared what I may do without the advanced technology of Wakanda to defend innocent people.

But Steve had simply parroted my activation code, despite my shaking and pleading, and beamed broadly when I remained in control of my facilities.

How can I explain that I’m afraid of myself?

How can we explain that we are many?

That we don’t know what we’re capable of, even without someone else controlling us?

Where do we even begin?

I sighed, grimacing as I settled deeper into my nest. The voices in my head had always been there, in one way or another, but ever since I’d had my deactivation confirmed, they’d become louder and more conversational, their personalities shining through as they chimed in.

“I’m losing my mind,” I murmured to myself, eyes flicking to the screen as I laid my head on a folded-up sweatshirt.

It’s possible, agreed the first voice readily – ever the stoic voice of reason of the two.

But at least you’re not doing it alone, soothed the second, his soft voice and endless optimism wreathing around me comfortably.

“That’s true,” I replied, smiling tenderly.

… Hey, Buck?

“Yeah?”

Thanks for the movie.

My smile spread a little wider, and I pulled the blankets closer with a contented sigh.

“You’re welcome.”

I woke to my cell buzzing insistently, the harsh summer sun streaming through a chink in the curtains directly onto the black metal of my left arm. Drawing it back quickly, I winced as my other hand brushed over the scorching vibranium tentatively.

It was easier when it had no feeling…

True, but it was awful smart of Shuri to be able to do it!

I hummed in agreement as I flexed my uncomfortably hot fingers, grimacing, and reached for my cell, the vibration still sending it shifting across the floor slowly.

“Yeah?”

“Bucky, I’ve been trying to reach you for almost an hour!”

My eyebrow arched of its own volition, drawing back to glance uncertainly at my screen.

Eight missed calls.

And twelve messages…

“What is it? What’s happened?” I snapped, slamming the phone quickly back to my ear as I darted about my space, stuffing only the barest of essentials into my holdall.

Nothing that will weigh us down.

Or draw attention.

“Bucky – calm down,”  Steve interjected, the panic evident in his voice. “I-I’m sorry – everything is fine. I just wanted to remind you about your appointment, and I worried when I couldn’t get through…”

I couldn’t help but wince at his palpable guilt, settling back on the ground with a heavy sigh. “It’s okay. Thanks, Stevie.”

“It’s important you go, Buck.”

“Yeah, I know,” I muttered. We’d already argued – more than once – about me needing to see a doctor. I said I was fine; Steve disagreed, talking about anxiety and depression and trauma, telling me about the therapies he’d done since he came out of the ice. He talked about the men who used to come back different – angry, or unable to get out of bed, or living life at the bottom of a bottle - and how it had a name now. He told me I didn’t have to live with those things.

How was I supposed to tell him that we deserve it?

It’s a poor repentance for our crimes, but it is the only one we have.

It would break his heart, to know the things we’ve done…

So in the end, I’d let him win, and he’d made the appointment, gushing about what my life could look like if I put in the effort. I figured I’d go to this first appointment, just to get it done and get Steve off my back; I didn’t need – or deserve – anyone’s help. I had my apartment and my solitude, and that was enough. With my fake documents, I could get a job and pay my own way in the world; I wouldn’t be reliant on Steve anymore.

I wouldn’t be putting him in danger.

But first…

“I’m heading out in a few, Stevie. I’ll let you know how it goes, okay?” My voice had softened at the distress in his own, and he let out a quiet, relieved exhale.

“Thanks, Buck. I just… I really think that this will help, you know?”

I nodded to myself, looking around my sparse apartment, fingers curling in my blankets unconsciously.

If it were anyone else… We’d think they deserved help, the softer voice pointed out gently, and I let my eyes close with my own sigh of resignation.

“Yeah. I hope so.”

This is why I hate people.

I fought the urge to snort as the doctor took our blood, gawping openly at our left arm, the black and gold shimmering under the florescent lights each time I moved.

He’d deemed us in peak physical condition, and allowed me to shrug my shirt back on, sitting on the opposite side of his desk as I rolled my sleeve down – clearly, the limb was proving too distracting from him.

“So, Mr. Smith,” he started, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes at predictable alias Steve had chosen for me, “now that your first appointment baselines are out of the way, what can I help you with? You don’t strike me as someone who particularly struggles with his health,” he added, offering me a broad – and somewhat unnerving – smile.

“My friend thinks I need help,” I offered uncertainly. The aging, grizzled physician simply watched me curiously, head cocked to one side.

“You seem to have a good life,” he noted, eyes flicking once more to my arm. “That’s a high-quality piece of kit if ever I saw one. You’re in great physical health. I’d say you’re pretty lucky. What could you possibly need help with?”

I blinked in surprise, dumbfounded into silence.

Fucking hell.

I was born over a hundred years ago, and even I know better than that.

That was pretty ignorant…

Clearing my throat, I raised a finger to tap at my vibranium shoulder pointedly. “D’you wanna know how I got this?” I offered quietly. When he simply nodded, I rolled my jaw, leaning forward. “I was in the war. A sergeant. There was a… Train accident. Most of my arm was ripped from my body, and the part that wasn’t was later cut away – without anaesthetic,” I added, my gaze locked on his. “I’m in constant pain. I was held captive for a long time, and forced to do horrible, awful things. I barely sleep for nightmares. Every time I leave the house I’m on high alert, waiting for something bad to happen. I never want to get out of bed.”

He watched me for a second longer, his jaw hanging half an inch before snapping shut with the distinct click of ceramic on bone. “I-I- I had no idea. I’m sorry- Sergeant Smith, Sir. My mistake. Of course.”

It shouldn’t take pointing out our service to make this man flounder and treat us with respect.

No, but… I’m quite glad that Steve made us those papers saying we fought in Afghanistan.

It’s not really stolen valour, is it? I mean, we are veterans, and it’s not like we can be honest about which war we fought in – not without drawing a lot of attention and probably putting ourselves in danger… We didn’t even specify, it’s only on the paperwork…

Seems little Stevie knew what he was doing.

“The local VA has excellent facilities for-”

I interrupted him with a quick shake of my head, hand raising. “I’d rather go mainstream, if that’s okay.”

Knowing my luck, I’d end up bumping into someone who really was in the unit I’m supposed to have been stationed with…

He nodded again, head ducking graciously. “Of course, Sergeant.” Hesitating, his eyes flicked away, a minute grimace pulling at his lips. “But… The VA would see you in a matter of weeks. The wait for our own referrals is currently up to a year.”

The bottom dropped out of my stomach, and I felt nauseous. While I’d little intention of working with the resources offered to me, the idea that the support was there, should I want it, was more comforting than I’d realised; now, however, my breathing came a little too hard, vision darkening around the edges, my palm tingling. “And in the meantime?” I pressed, the steadily increasing panic making the blood in my ears roar, my own voice sounding faded and far away.

The doctor simply gazed at me sadly, offering me a weak shrug. “It’s an underfunded and undersupported system. That’s why I would recommend contacting the VA, and-”

“I’m not going to do that,” I snapped, eyes narrowing in annoyance before I let out a sigh, pushing away my irritation stubbornly. “Look, being around other veterans – it’s not good for me. I don’t want to be treated like a soldier; I just want to be a regular guy.” The excuse was thought up on the fly, but he nodded sympathetically, turning to his computer and tapping at the keys slowly.

“Our trauma team is currently fulfilling referrals from eight months ago. That’s the most accurate time frame I can give you, I’m afraid; it entirely depends on how many they’ve had in the meantime. It could be less, or it could be more.” He looked to me again, his smile strained. “I think that’s the best we can offer, if you’re reluctant to-”

“What about pills?”

I blinked in surprise, more startled by the words that left my lips than he was. It happened, from time to time – I spoke without intending to, with no plan or consideration, to the extent that the words often didn’t even feel like mine.

He cleared his throat, humming under his breath, considering me for a moment. “Well, I mean… I suppose I could offer you something to ease your anxiety, though I don’t particularly like prescribing medication…”

I couldn’t help myself – I arched an eyebrow, eyeing him curiously. “… Interesting approach…”

He shrugged minutely, turning back to his screen and tapping a few keys passively. “The younger generation are being mollycoddled. We didn’t have all this ‘anxiety’ and ‘depression’ when I was a boy. It existed, of course – but it was a serious condition, not these children who feel a little blue sometimes.”

My mouth moved wordlessly, utterly dumbfounded, annoyance boiling under my skin.

We can’t. The medication…

Fuck that. Screw this guy. Break the callous bastard’s goddamn nose.

I paused for a moment, then nodded once, closing my mouth with a soft click and a terse smile, humming non-committedly. “So… The medication?” I prompted, earning a quiet sigh – which I ignored – as he offered me the script.

“This should only be an interim stop gap,” he warned, finger extending to point at me when his hand was free. “Just until your referral has been actioned, okay? And I really think you should reconsider getting in touch with the VA. The sooner you’re off the pills, the better, in my opinion.”  

I don’t give a fuck about your opinion.

I simply nodded once more as I pushed myself to my feet, reaching down to grab my bag as he extended a hand to me, pretending I hadn’t seen the motion.

What the hell are you doing? The fiercer of the two voices had a snarl in their voice as they snapped at me, but I continued to exit the room. He can’t get away with that!

He won’t, I soothed, following the short corridor absently. He won’t, I promise.

He continued to object quietly – but when my steps turned away from the exit, he immediately fell quiet, watching curiously as I approached the reception desk.

“Hi! Can I help you?” The man behind the counter offered me a reassuring smile, and I felt my muscles unclench infinitesimally as I offered a tentative grin back.

“Hey – I, uh… I’d like to register a formal complaint, and request a change in GP.”

I spun the card thoughtfully between my fingers, staring up at the store sign uncertainly.

‘Paws for Applause’.

Oh God. Puns. Why puns…

It’s cute!

It is quite charming, I admitted with a chuckle, humming as I considered my next step.

The receptionist had been endlessly helpful; he led me away from the main room, carefully noting every detail of my complaint with a sympathetic grimace, admitting there’d been some issues with that GP in particular as of late. He’d arranged another appointment with a different doctor he was sure I’d get on far better with – a young woman with significantly more progressive views. When I’d lamented the wait time, he’d pursed his lips in thought, offering me the card I now held.

“The thing that made the biggest difference to my husband – he’s a veteran, too… It wasn’t the VA, or therapy, or medication. We actually got a dog. She gets him out of the house and out of his own head, and helps him feel safer when he’s in public.”

That was how I’d found myself here, chewing on my lip nervously.

I’ve never looked after anything alive before…

We’re going to be terrible at this. Our whole life has been about killing.

No. We’re going to be awesome at this. We can ask for help if we need it. We can do this!

I inhaled deeply, metal fingers forming an anxious concealed fist in the pocket of my sweatshirt as the other hand tugged my headphones out – the sound of songs from my own era was one of the few things that kept me from being entirely overwhelmed when I went out in public.

There was no bell as I opened the door – instead, I was met with a distant but multi-layered series of tweets and chirps, punctuated by one intimidating scream as something loud and green swooped over my head.

I nearly turned right back around and left again.

“Denzel! Shit, sorry about him; he can be a right arsehole sometimes. Dezzie, come here, you gremlin!”

I turned toward the voice, startled – and charmed, despite myself, by the presence of an English accent in the Pacific Northwest – as a thirty-something person appeared from behind a box on the counter, the green parrot-looking thing flapping down to settle on their shoulder with another abominable shriek, earning a wince from his owner. “Jesus, Denzel – put a sock in it, would you? How can I help, other than providing free earplugs?” they added, looking to me once more.

“I- I, uh…” My voice failed me as I looked around, panic rising as I took in the endless pet supplies in infinite materials, breath hitching unsteadily.

Their head cocked minutely, and they glanced at the bird once more. “Denzel, go home,” they murmured. To my distant surprise, he obliged immediately, flapping off through a narrow hole in the door behind them, which they slid shut in his wake, cutting off the quieter series of tweets and whistles before rounding the counter, palms raised imploringly. “Hey. You’re okay. It’s a lot, huh? But you don’t have to do that right now. Just look at me, okay?”

My eyes found theirs desperately, focusing on the chocolate depths, flecked with mahogany and sand. Their hand reached for mine, and I baulked instinctively, jerking ack, wincing guiltily at the brief look of hurt that flickered across their face. “Just take a few deep breaths, okay? You’re safe here. I promise.” The anxious, rejected expression had passed already, leaving only a soft worry, and I forced myself to breathe more evenly – even if it did hitch a little in the process.

But they simply stood with their eyes on mine, smiling gently, murmuring encouragement and reassurances as I fought to control my spasming lungs.

By the time I was calm, red-faced and sniffing intermittently, they were humming quietly – a song I didn’t know, but the gentle, lilting melody smoothed the raged edges of my mind. “Thanks,” I murmured, my cheeks flaming, and I looked away in shame.

God, we’re pathetic.

Fucking disaster.

We shouldn’t have come here…

“Sorry,” I muttered, rubbing my hand roughly over my face. “W- I shouldn’t have come here. It was a stupid idea.”

They frowned, head cocked slightly, hand extending as I took a stumbling step backwards. “Hey- it’s okay! You’re doing really well. Look, I’ll flip the sign and we can take it easy – we’ll take a seat and just talk, okay?”

I swallowed again, nauseated by the pounding of my heart in my chest, coupled with the undeniable urge to bolt. But eventually, I  offered them an uncertain nod, watching nervously as they stepped away to flip he sign in the window and turn the catch with an apologetic grimace. “People don’t always bother to check the sign,” they offered with a guilty shrug, and I nodded stiffly, clammy hand rubbing against my thigh in a display of anxiety. They turned over a couple of crates and settled on one, a foot tucked beneath them, and indicated to the other. “Join me?”

I settled nervously, fidgeting and shifting as they watched me with a gentle gaze. “I’m- this isn’t necessary, really. I’m okay.”

They smiled weakly, shrugging a shoulder and gesturing around themselves. “Hey- it’s a hectic job. Maybe I just wanted ten minutes break, hm? I mean, you’ve met Denzel, right?” I chuckled quietly, and they grinned. “There you go! It’s not so bad, huh? So – how about we try this again?”

I watched them for a moment, unable to shake the last of my suspicion and anxiety, but eventually let out a soft sigh. “I… My name is B- … James. I… There was a guy at the doctor’s office, I guess, and he…”

They listened politely the entire time I spoke, grimacing sympathetically as I briefly mentioned the intensity of my nightmares. I found myself divulging details I’d never shared with anyone before – the way being in public made my skin crawl and heart pound, the way I was movement and faces in shadows, and the way I lay awake at night, eyes open and ears pricked for every minute sound.

Through it all, they never looked away – not even when the metal of my arm flashed between glove and sleeve, simply keeping their eyes on mine, gentle and warm.

“You can call me Mars,” they began, leaning forward to rest their forearms on their knees. “And it sounds like you’ve had a really tough time of it, huh?” I shrugged and nodded, and they gestured around the space once more. “I moved here from the UK a few years ago. I did all the therapy and stuff, but…” They offered me a shrug of their own, eyes flicking away. “Sometimes there needs to be some distance, y’know?” Humming, I nodded sympathetically, and they looked back to me with a soft smile. “But yeah – I get it, and I’d be honoured to help. I know a shelter about ten minutes outside of town – how about you meet me here tomorrow morning, and we can head over, see what’s what?”

I hesitated only briefly, their dark eyes locked on mine drawing me in despite myself, and I nodded.

“I’ll be here.”

Mars sat with me for over an hour, discussing training methods, common problems, and where to find help, should I need it.

I slowly found myself relaxing in the unusual company – they were certainly an odd one, from their flickering gaze unable to hold mine unless they put in conscious effort, to the unique way they settled with one leg curled beneath them with a youthful flexibility.

They were… Quirky.

Genuine.

Even as I left the store, heading back out into the mid-afternoon crowds, I couldn’t help but feel elated and optimistic, weighed down with a bag full of goods to welcome my new housemate. The occasional glance rolled off me, my mind occupied with thinking through the training exercises Mars had given me, committing them to memory.

As soon as I got home, I emptied out the contents of my heaving bad on the floor, settling on my nest to sort through my supplied. Absently, I wondered if they’d been taking advantage of my naïveté, pushing products on me, as I weighed three different leashes thoughtfully.

 But they didn’t push anything; they just explained the different options.

Yeah. We’re the ones who decided to buy, uh… Well, everything. And they did give us a pretty generous discount.

I hummed in agreement as I set up the bowl stand – to stop an overeager pup from catapulting them across the floor - settling the matching bowls inside with a soft smile. “Yeah – they were pretty open about how useful this stuff was really likely to be,” I agreed. They’d steered me away from a lot of the things with premium price tags, pointing out that the cheaper versions were often exactly the same.

I set up the bed next to mine, then stopped, gazing at my nest thoughtfully. It had been drilled into me that the dog deserved their own space, and I’d opted against the crate because of my limited space – perhaps the pup would appreciate having the floor to himself…

I fell asleep curled around a bottle of whiskey – my first, rather than third. I never slept well, and the soft cradling of the bed around me felt foreign and unearned, but I managed to force myself between the sheets, even as my muscles clenched in anticipation of a  pain that wouldn’t come. I knew I was safe here, but that didn’t stop me from reliving the fear of punishment, every inch of my body aching at the memory of the abuse.

But sleep I did, clinging needily to the hope of a better future moving forward. Distantly, I marvelled at the knowledge that I’d been certain this morning that the appointment was purely practical – a way to get Steve off my back, with no real consequences. And yet here I was, planning to start the next stage of my life with significant long-term effects.

Maybe everything really would be okay.

[justlemoney]

From your character ask game for the Cars movies! Zero obligations to answer, but I myself love doing these.

Im not going to send you a character. Ill ask you instead to pick two for yourself under certain criteria.

1) A character that you were inatantly drawn to on your first watch. The character that ultimately and initially became your favourite.

2) A character grew on you over time and over several reruns of the movie(s). Also please tell me why this occured. It fascinates me.

Brace yourself, theres a few!

1

2

3

10

12

13

16

18

20

21

22

24

25

26

Im so sorry I cannot remember what they were! I just wrote down the numbers. Love your blog!

Alrighty! This is gonna be fun, also I love this request- thank you so much honestly (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ

Characters I have chosen (it's 3, I couldn't decide on the first criteria, so this is gonna be quite a long post):

For the first criteria we have Strip 'The King' Weathers and Finn McMissile

And for the second criteria we have Francesco Bernoulli.

-> When I first watched the second movie of the Cars-Trilogy I mainly focused on the whole espionage thing that was going on, and less on the World Grand Prix racing. Therefore I didn't pay much attention to the other racers individually. And at first I did not like Francesco at all. He reminded me too much of Lightning, when Lightning was a rookie and I didn't like that. Bernoulli gave me, as mentioned, similar vibes as rookie Lightning, the vibes of the whole 'being a one-man-kind of show' thing. Francesco came across as a cocky, flirtatious, over confident character with a high ego. (At least for me ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ)

But after I rewatched the movie several times, I started to like him more. (Well and maybe some fanfictions had their influence as well-) I began to think more about him, about his way on and off the track, his relations and so on. I saw that, despite his seemingly high ego, he is indeed a kind soul. For example how he seems to like the fact that his mother is his 'biggest/greatest' fan, and he is open about that too. I have a feeling some other racers would be embarrassed to see their family members, especially their mother, cheering for them. But he doesn't mind it. (Alright- this turned out longer than expected-) ⊂⁠(⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠)⁠)⁠⊃

NOW- let's get going with the rest of your 'Character Asks' request (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ

I am gonna go in the following order for each number: Strip Weathers, Finn McMissile, Francesco Bernoulli

1) My first impression of them

-> A racer with great potential, that is also blue and works for an agency with a Dino as a logo. (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

-> Uiii cool looking, normal, spy guy. Actually, scratch that- a wild traumatized appeared (Pokemon reference intended)

-> Rookie Lightning McQueen but make him Italian and take away his fenders

2) When I think I truly started to like them

-> When he told off Lightning at the beginning of Cars 1. No elaboration.

-> Right at the start of Cars 2, due to the whole entire chasing scene.

-> After rerunning the movie several times, and fanfiction-

3) A Song that reminds me of them

-> 'Gossip' by Måneskin

-> 'Set it off' by Skillet

-> 'Iconic' by Simple Plan

10) Describe the character in one sentence

-> Silly country boi that loves racing and his wife (and sponsor.) ⊂⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠⊂⁠)

-> Bisexual- I am sorry- British secret spy agent with trauma.

-> Italian racer that is shamelessly flirting (and in love) with McQueen

12) Sexuality hc!

-> Bisexual or Unlabeled (already mentioned in another ask)

-> Gay- Bisexual ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ

-> *clap clap, finger guns* Pan. (⁠☞⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)⁠☞

13) Your favorite friendship they have

-> Him and Tex/Him and Junior

-> Him and Tomber

-> Him and McQueen

16) A childhood headcanon

-> Never liked playing/interacting with other kids

-> Grew up somewhere in Germany

-> Used to steal- eh I mean borrow, Mama Bernoulli's cosmetics

18) How do you think they were as a kid?

-> Shy and reserved, didn't know how to connect with others around him

-> Bubbly and happy, always in action, until some trauma happens (Explanation in 22)

-> Outgoing and enthusiastic, loved to brag about Mama Bernoulli's delicious food (he still does that)

20) A weird headcanon

-> Had a goth/punk phase as a teen. (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

-> Once needed to plan a wedding for a Spy-Mission, as part of a cover

-> He knows how to knit and sew. (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) Mama taught him (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

21) When do you think they were at their happiest?

-> Whenever he is/was on the track or with Lynda/Tex, and later on whenever Cal or Junior are around, oh and when he met Doc Hudson (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ

-> Training Academy with Leland and when he was/is with Mater/Holley and or Tomber

-> Also while racing, around his fellow racers (The other WGP racers), and of course when he is with his Mama

22) When do you think they were at their lowest?

-> When he crashed at the Tiebreaker race, and during middle school

-> After his mother's death, and later when Leland passed

-> After a harsh break up, and unlucky for him, his Mama was very ill at the same time too (she got better of course)

24) What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone

-> He once wanted to commit. (I'm sorry, I'm dumping so much trauma on the poor guy) Never told anyone. Not even his parents found out. Not even Lynda or Tex know, he keeps that secret to himself and he will take it with him into his grave.

-> He will never tell anyone, how exactly his mother passed, only he knows the real reason and he is gonna keep it that way

-> He used to eat flowers when he was bored, and occasionally he still does that. Of course he isn't gonna tell anyone, his Mama doesn't know either

25) When do you think they acted the most ooc?

-> When he met Doc for the first time and was alone with him. I don't know what kind of hyperfixation suddenly hit him, but he suddenly became all excited and bubbly. I mean his Idol was in front of him. (I am sorry I couldn't think of any movie scene that seemed ooc for him)

-> That one scene in Cars 2 in Japan, where he fought with some of the lemons. There is this one scene, one split second, where he was shocked to suddenly be rammed

-> Also in Japan, during the race on the dirt part of the track. We all know he lost his momentum there due to not knowing how to properly drive in dirt. That was the one moment his self-confidence/his ego took damage.

26) When do you think they were being 'themselves' the most?

-> Honestly, on the track, with Lynda and Tex, with other friends, with his nephew and so on

-> Around Leland/Tomber, and with Mater/(Holley)

-> With his fellow WGP racers, especially with Lightning

AND DONE (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

This was fun to write, took me about an hour plus and I loved it! (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ

Thank you so much for this, it really got me into my thoughts and just- thank you! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

[fablan]

TASK 001: INTRODUCTION

Leo, AEST, & HE/HIM I am a trans man who lives in Australia! I work 5 hour shifts every weekday and am an almost-fulltime student at uni. I study criminology, sociology & international relations and love to incorporate these things in my writing!

Fabian Arias Introducing Fabian, security at X Academy. He comes across serious, sometimes brash and sometimes subservient depending on who you are to him, but he's not one to crack a smile often. He's lost, and at 36 is still learning who he is and what he's living for.

pinterest . playlist . tags pin board and playlist are wip!

[ miguel gomez, cis-man, he/him ] Look who just landed! FABIAN ARIAS, I sure hope you packed all you need. Perhaps you’re not worried as SECURITY of X ACADEMY. The city has plenty of spots for a 36 year old CYBORG like you. You’ll be known in the city soon enough as THE FOLLOWER, being COMMITTED and INDIFFERENT. ( leo, 25, AEST, removed for discretion )

Full Name: Fabian Arias

Nickname: n/a

Date of Birth: 2370

Gender: cis man

Pronouns: he/him (does not mind they/them)

Sexual Orientation: unlabeled

Romantic Orientation: unlabeled

Current Age: 36

Modification: cyborg

Affiliation: x academy

Birthplace: mars, marineris point (destroyed city)

Current Neighbourhood: sora

Occupation: security for x academy

Known Languages:  english, spanish

Step 3: biography

tw: war and war crimes, violence, trauma

fabian is the younger son from a very rich currently unnamed family. he was raised in privilege, which he was utterly blind to, instead resentful and furious at the constant reminders that he was second to, lesser than his older brother, who was set to inherit all wealth.

born in a city which became war-torn when he was a young man, he was drafted into the military where he managed to make something of himself. allowing all cybernetic enhancements recommended to him by his family or his superiors, he immediately stands out with led eyes, a steel jaw and several enhanced (or utterly replaced) limbs. he suffered in the war, in ways he still has not fully come to terms with. but it ended with the destruction of the entire city, at which point he and his family became refugees.

luckily for him, it's very easy to be a rich refugee. they found their way to new jakarta all together, a city which had been uninvolved in the conflict, and his family settled in sora. but adapting to a world of peace, returning to his role as second-best, everything was suddenly wrong. his ptsd diagnosis was treated with bandaids and a glossy finish, and fabian had to fight to understand his own changing needs and identity.

he deviated from his family's control, slowly at first. they didn't need to know that he was getting involved with them; some gangs, some just criminals, some vagrants. it was a world where he felt more real, more like a person. eventually, he met someone (wanted connection) for whom he was willing to lose everything. he spent up all the power he had to his name to help them, and after doing so, his family won't look at him the same way.

he changed his name, not out of an attempt to disown them but out of a desire not to shame them. after everything, there's still that little boy within, craving his family's approval and acceptance. he moved out, took on a job at x academy, and months blended into years. this was the new normal.

he still talks to his family, but sparingly. his purpose is that person who he helped, though he sees himself as little more than a hanger-on in their life.

[bigcityroadie]

⠀⠀⠀☆ — Janie Jones ׅ⎖

⠀Word travels through roadie crews, Janie ends ⠀up hearing about this app, Tumblr. Seeing all ⠀the rockstars on it, he decides to give it a try.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ Don't like? Don't interact.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀... more info below

Before you follow / interact

I am new to rp on tumblr so please be patient with me while I figure everything out, but I am not new to rock star rp! I've written an array of rock stars on twitter that I plan to move here!

I prefer not to write with minors!! Just a personal comfort thing as I'm nineteen turning twenty soon! 16+ is okay just be warned! (If I accidentally follow you and you're 15 or below please block, asks are fine though!)

Nsfw and such is fine, I don't mind it! (Anything descriptive is for dms only! and please be respectful, I won't hesitate to block.)

My writing is usually literate, so changing layout forms is gonna be awkward for me, but I'm learning!

I also write the darker topics that come with rock stars and the 80s, which is another reason I don't write with most minors! If anything might be triggering, feel free to block!!

This is an original portrayal, and has nothing to do with nor any relations to Brent Muscat. It is simply an fc for an original character.

My asks are open so feel free to either interact ic or ask questions about me ooc! (Please label anything ooc if so that way I won't get confused. Just don't be creepy!!)

Single-ship seems to be the standard on tumblr, but I prefer multi-ship. If you don't like that it's fine just don't judge me about it. (A main ship will be reserved with proper chemistry.)

My activity may be on and off, so don't expect me to be active all of the time!

My private messages are open too, so if that's preferred we can write in there or just chat!

Ooc is labeled with // !!

I go by Swine, my pronouns are he/him. I'm available on discord for roleplay too! I don't automatically respond ic as it's my personal discord, so don't send ic starters and such.

Other blogs are @outofthecellar @whitesnakez & @breaking-thechains

Personal blog is @quiet-riot-breathless

⠀⠀⠀ Now onto Janie!

Set during the 80s, Janie works for any band around, and isn't set with any band specifically.

Janie first started working as a roadie at the age of 17, and has been doing it for several years now.

Known for being charming and pleasant company, he's gained a reputation amongst roadies!

A hard worker, Janie knows how to maintain most instruments, gear, and can even fix minor clothing mishaps.

Janie even knows how to play a bit of guitar too, but never fully pursued it.

Often mistaken for a woman, it's where the nickname Janie came from, which eventually stuck. His real name is Jacob.

In the rare moments Janie has downtime, he rides his skateboard or reads books.

Janie doesn't constantly dabble in drugs and alcohol, but he loves to go to parties when invited.

Unlabeled! Not really closeted or open about it either. What happens in the back of the bus, stays in the back of the bus!

Totally cool with affection. He doesn't really seek it out, but loves to give hugs or cuddles to whoever asks or needs it.

⠀⠀That's all for now folks!

[crimson--freak]

For the ship ask game : Privateyes and angeleyes :)

I decided to pick angeleyes because it’s the one I kind of half-ship. I tend not to ship Privateeyes because I have No Idea what to make of their relationship. It eludes me.

I’ll explain the edit: I really want something terrible to happen that will bring them closer together. I want the conversation between John and Arthur in the latest episode to come true. I WANT OSCAR TO GET POSSESSED it would be great :D because what if Arthur can’t save him? Or what if he Can, and he Does - would Oscar truly forgive him or would he hold it over Arthur’s head? Ooh the potential :)

(Also I highlighted the alloros box because I still fully headcanon Arthur as aro and not interested in pursuing a romantic relationship. I think Arthur would cling to Oscar because of companionship through The Horrors TM and Oscar Doesn’t Get It and interprets it as romantic advances. Cue several episodes of miscommunication (after the possession of course) where they finally settle into a kind of “we feel different things towards each other but hey as long as talk through stuff it’s fine”. They’d keep their relationship unlabelled as they interpret it in different ways.

[ID: a ship bingo template. The following boxes have been highlighted in green.

“They’re so silly :3”

”Hey check out how hard I can cry :’(“

”They can fix each other”

(In caps) “They’re so oughhhh *explodes and dies*”

”Alloros cannot comprehend their relationship”

One slightly edited to read “An actual tragedy will unfold before me”

An drawing of a person crawling on the floor whilst crying and surrounded by keysmashes

A drawing of a person hunched over in a chair, their face cast in shadow.

/End ID]

[combatfaerie]

Ficlet: Cute But Psycho

Story: Cute But Psycho Word count: 1,425 Relationship(s): Dean Ambrose/Jon Moxley & Seth Rollins Prompt: "Still think I'm cute?" Also available at: AO3 and Wattpad and dreamwidth Summary: Seth goes to watch one of Jon's indie matches.

"Still think I'm cute?"

At least that's what Seth thought Jon said. His former Shield brother was spitting out mouthfuls of blood and saliva, so his voice was slightly garbled. Seth sighed as he stepped back to avoid the next glob of bubbles and blood. "I think Lunatic Fringe was a good nickname for you."

"It's a good song too." Jon grinned and licked some blood off his teeth. "But if you're around Renee, don't say it's by Tom Cochrane. It's Red Rider. She takes that shit personally."

"Noted." Seth wasn't too familiar with the song Jon was talking about—maybe it was just another Mox ramble—but that was easy enough to look up later. At the moment, he was more concerned with getting his friend to a medic so his forehead wouldn't end up looking like a road map. "Where's the doctor in this place?" he asked, looking around. As far as he could tell, the venue seemed to be comprised mostly of hallways and unlabelled doors.

"Is there one?" Jon grabbed hold of Seth's forearms and used them for balance as he stood. Adrenaline had propelled him from the ring to the backstage area, but then fatigue—and most likely blood loss—made his knees give way just on the other side of the curtain. "You never can tell with these places. But that's okay. You drove here, right? Just dump me in the backseat. I'll pay for cleaning after."

Seth shook his head. "Let's look for a doctor first." He bent slightly and slung Jon's arm around his shoulders before glancing down every hallway they came across. Finally he spotted someone with a clipboard. If Jon had been more cognizant, he probably would have made a quip about people with clipboards always looking important until Chris Jericho tried the List of Jericho gimmick. As it was, Jon's head lolled back until he was almost looking straight up at the ceiling. Seth followed his gaze and almost immediately wished he hadn't. The ceiling had several brown splotches he was sure were old blood stains—or at least he hoped so. "Hey! Hey, excuse me!" Seth tried to wave with his free arm, but he didn't want to jostle Jon too much. "Is there a medic on site?"

The man with the clipboard blinked a few times. "Oh, you mean Grace? Yeah. She's in...." He looked down at the clipboard and flipped a few pages. "She's in 50A. It's that way." He pointed vaguely before continuing on his way.

"Thanks." Seth fought not to roll his eyes. It would have made far more sense to have the medic stationed right near the ring entrance in case of an actual emergency, but these small death match circuits tended to do everything as cheaply as possible; it seemed like it was part of the allure for some of the fans, who claimed they wanted a 'grittier' experience. When he and Jon passed a door, Seth looked for a number and sighed. "Four? Fuck this." Across the hall was a housekeeping-style cart with a mop handle jutting out of one side. It could have been a gimmick for an upcoming match, but Seth didn't care. They can use something else, he thought as he removed the mop and set it on the floor. Looking inside, it seemed to be a genuine cleaning cart, filled with various bits of trash: drink cups, crumpled napkins, popcorn tubs. "Up you get," Seth declared, lifting Jon as if he were going to carry him over a threshold.

"You do think I'm cute! I knew it!" Jon tried to stand in the cart and immediately collapsed against the side, nearly tipping the entire thing over.

"Come on." Seth knew the cart wasn't designed to bear the weight of a full-grown person, so he went as fast as he could, screeching to a stop when he finally found 50A. "For such a small place, it's got a lot of fucking doors," he muttered, helping Jon lean against the wall. "Hang tight. I'll be right back."

"You're going to die in a horror movie now," Jon declared. "Or not. You're not a virgin, so that helps."

Seth pounded on the door until it opened and an incredibly tiny woman glared up at him. "What now?" She looked like someone had shrunk Sonya Deville down to Alexa Bliss's height, but kept all the scathing wit and aggression.

"Moxley," Seth said simply. "He's still spitting out a lot of blood, and his forehead's a mess. Are you Grace?"

The woman nodded. "Well, he's awake, so I suppose being bloodied is to be expected. Bring him in."

Seth wrangled Jon out of the cleaning cart, leaving it on its side for the time being. "Sounds like you're a regular," he remarked, leading Jon into the room. He was pretty sure he had been in walk-in clinics that looked more official, but it would have to do. "Where do you want him?" he asked Grace.

The doctor pointed at the rickety bed. "Where do you think?"

Seth felt like saying the folding tables under the ring were probably sturdier, but he kept his mouth shut and hoisted Jon up onto the bed. "Stay still."

Jon patted his thighs. "I should text Renee. I was supposed to let her know when the match was done."

"I don't know where your phone is," Seth said, "but I'll text her. Tell me what you want to say and let Grace do her thing."

Grace shooed Seth out of the way and started swabbing blood off Jon's face. "Girlfriends can wait."

"Wife," Jon corrected automatically. He might have looked like he was going to spill off the bed at any second, but he was particular about how people referred to Renee. "Wife. You should get one, Rollins. They're good for you. Are you still dating Becky?"

Seth nodded. The past few months had been the epitome of When one door closes, another one opens. Around the same time he learned that Jon wouldn't be renewing his contract with WWE, he and Becky started seeing each other. At first, he wondered if he was compensating for the loss of one of his closest friends, but he and Becky had always been close too. If he hadn't had her these past few months, he wasn't sure what he would have done. "Yeah. We're doing pretty good. I mean, the company knows and now the fans know, so it's a bit of a thing, but we're making it work."

"Dude, you should marry her." Dean's normally bright eyes were a bit hazy, but his voice was steady. "She's the best girl you've dated."

"I know. But we've only been together since January—late January at that...." It wasn't as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind—more and more often, as of late—but he didn't want to scare her off. It had taken him a while to convince her to even try dating. If he proposed too soon, she would probably think something was wrong.

"There!" Grace stepped back, revealing a thin row of stitches on Jon's forehead. "It's enough to get you to the hospital. Now get out of here. Gilbert's in the ring now and you know he always fucks up his shoulder, so I have to get all this cleaned up before he shows up."

"Thanks." Seth thought about asking for a painkiller for Jon, but Jon seemed steadier on his feet now. "All right, Mox, my man. Let's get you to...." He paused for a moment. Did this place even have a locker room? "Wherever your stuff is."

"That way," Jon said, pointing down a longer hall. "How many stitches? I forgot to count while she was working on me."

Seth stopped to look at his friend's forehead. "Ten, maybe? Hard to say."

Jon nodded. "At least it's double digits. Chicks love scars. That's why they think I'm cute, you know."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Are you saying I need to get some scars to impress Becky?" He had surgery scars, of course, and a few random ones, but nowhere near as many as Jon.

"Nah." Jon reached over and tugged on his curls. "You got the curls going on. Becky likes them."

"Right." Seth kept a watchful eye on Jon as they walked down the corridor, but his mind was elsewhere. His hair was getting a bit long and he had been considering a trim, but if Becky liked them that much, maybe he'd leave it for now.

[leorawright]

Greetings!! I'm here for an oc matchup :) could I maybe get both romantic and platonic?

Name: Bélanger Charnell le Blanc, although he goes by Charnell

Unlabeled + attracted to men (he/him pronouns) 22 years old.

He's French and Chilean, and he speaks English and French.

Personality: Charnell is very sarcastic and doesn't show much emotion. He comes off as rude due to his sheer bluntness and honesty. He dislikes talking with people, typically trying to keep his conversations short and to the point. He's very hesitant with speaking and tries to only have important inputs. He has humor that can easily fly over people's heads, and he loves it. He has a slightly deep voice with a French accent. He also has chronic fatigue syndrome and hates doing alot of physical activity.

Other: He has the ability to see and speak to ghosts. Additionally, they can possess him if he allows it. Charnell has a ghost that follows him around named Odette. They are surprising friendly for a ghost and they possess Charnell alot. Odette does enjoy messing with people and scaring them, and they're sarcastic like Charnell.

He can create sigils that can do alot of things, the most obvious one being the sigil on his cheek. He uses it to prevent ghosts from possessing him without him allowing it. When a ghost possesses him, the ghosts strength and abilities are given to his body and can be used by the ghost. For weapons, he uses a semi-automatic one handed gun, and a sigil he puts on his hand that allows fire to shoot out of it. He also has sigils covering his room in an attempt to prevent severe nightmares, although, he still has them. He's also a smoker, although he's trying to quit. Cigarettes calm him down alot, and with his sigils, he doesn't have to worry about always needing a light.

What Charnell seeks in a friend/partner:

Someone who isn't freaked out by his ghost friend. Odette is very important to him, so he wouldn't be able to get along with someone who hates Odette.

For a friend, he wants someone who's funny and not too much for him. He prefers chill people who he can mess around with.

For a partner, he would want someone who just really loves him. He doesn't open up much, so he needs someone who listens him. He'd love someone who can calm him when he has a severe nightmare, and isn't disturbed by his abilities. He'd especially like it if his partner was friends with Odette.

Apperance: His eye color changes based off if he's possessed by a ghost. Charnell's eye color changes to the ghosts.

And here's his picrew! He's around 5'7 and isn't physically the strongest. Take care!!

For platonic I pick...

Sombra!

You want funny? She's got surprisingly good humor and laughs at a lot of jokes especially dark ones

She can be pretty lazy if she's not focused on something so perfect friend to chill with on any day

Prepare to get into three a.m. debates with her

She's fascinated by Odette and the fact that you can ghosts

Please tell her everything about Odette or let Odette tell her she'll listen to every word

For romantic...

Genji!

Genji is really patient and understanding after being with Zenyatta for so long

So if you don't want to open up just yet Genji won't push you and he'll even talk more about himself if that makes you more comfortable

When you tell him about ghosts and Odette he's really intrigued so please explain everything

He remembers everything you tell him without fail

He's had nightmares before so he's good at dealing with them and good at comforting you when they happen

When you tell him you're trying to quit smoking he tries his best to help and goes as far to get movie set cigarettes in order to maybe help you

[wesparkcr]

Full Name: Weston Lee Parker

Age & Birthday: 36 - April 20th, 1988

Zodiac: Taurus sun ☀︎ Capricorn moon ☾ Aries rising ➶

Occupation: Retired professional bull rider / ranch hand

Preferred Pronouns & Gender: he/him, cis male

Sexuality: Unlabelled

Hometown & length of time in Briar Ridge: Briar Ridge, toured around the US for years but officially returned six months ago

Neighborhood: Silver Creek Ranch, on the outskirts of Briar Ridge Hills

Personality Traits: polite, driven, focused, self-critical, loyal, pessimistic, grumpy, stubborn.. but also kind and caring, deep down.

✍︎ Penned by: Tee

PINTEREST | BIOGRAPHY | TIMELINE

TW: Parental abandonment, physical injury

Weston grew up on Silver Creek Ranch, feeling overshadowed by his brothers and distanced from his famous bull-rider father, who often made him feel inadequate. After his father left the family when Wes was just nine, he channeled his feelings of abandonment into sport, finding solace and a sense of control. Despite his family’s concerns, he pursued bull riding tenaciously, gaining a reputation for his skill and fearlessness, winning numerous titles. Bull riding was everything to him, and though he was aware of the risks, he wanted to ride for as long as possible. The harder the bull, the better. However, by his mid-thirties, the physical toll of the sport caught up with him, culminating in a severe knee injury that forced him into early retirement. Wes returned to Briar Ridge for good with his tail between his legs, taking on a ranch hand role on their family farm. Although Wes has been struggling with his new reality, his hometown is becoming more and more of a safe space as time goes on. Still, the spirit of the daredevil lies within him, and although he has no idea who he is without bull riding, he's slowly, but surely, rediscovering himself.

HEADCANONS:

Wes is dyslexic and has dyscalculia. It's always been one of his biggest insecurities, and why he hated school. Oftentimes you'll find Wes pulling cash out of his wallet to pay, and getting embarrassed and walking out because he struggles with numbers. Give him a credit card ANY day.

Not a fan of doctors, or going to the doctors.

Hates coffee, but is partial to a tea.

Wes took on his mom's maiden name Campbell as his stage name, to avoid being compared to his father in the rodeo circuit.

Wes' dad moved on with another woman shortly after leaving his family. Over the years he's tried to reach out a handful of times, but the only one who has cared about speaking with him is his older brother. There was a time where he swore he spotted his dad in the audience of one of his shows, and it almost threw him off his game. Little does Wes know he was actually there.

Loves spending time with his nephew. You'll often see them grabbing ice cream and hanging out around town

Drives a blue pick up truck

Can play the guitar and sing — but rarely does so

Has a bloodhound named Gus that follows him everywhere

IMPORTANT CONNECTION:

In a bit of a The Summer I Turned Pretty plot, the girl he was on and off, hot and cold for so long that they were together, but Wes was too stubborn to put a label on things because he was always touring around and felt like he couldn't provide the stability she deserved. After a year or two of back and forth, she broke things off.. and just when he thinks he'll never see her again, she pops up at family dinner a year later, dating his BROTHER. Wanted connection to be posted!