#i kinda went completely ham on this ask

[curseofbreadbear]

i think i've already made it canon to this blog BUT i am once again reiterating:

in all verses but mainline f.naf (where my henry faked his death), c.ircus baby was the one who killed henry.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

since seeing that pic of pedro’s arms I’ve literally been FERAL all day…. would it be possible for you to write something short about joel’s arms? 🫶🏽 (maybe like how they look when he holds you, when you guys make love, when he’s working, when you hold hands etc) is this weird or even possible idk I just love arms

hi lovely anon!! read this and immediately ran to write it, but i uhhhh missed the part where you said short and went a lil ham. hope you enjoy!

here in your arms

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, post-outbreak, language, fluff, mentions of body insecurities, comfort, smut, lots and lots of arm touching

word count: 1.8k

It’s hot as all hell in this bedroom, but you’re choosing to ignore it this morning. You’ll gladly sweat to death, even melt into a damn puddle if it means that Joel’s very warm, very naked body stays wrapped around you. 

As long as you can relish his thigh nestled between your legs, and those thick, thick arms pillowed under your head and draped over your waist. You’d burn in hell for all you care. Careful not to wake him, you turn your head slowly to press a kiss into his bicep, and the muscle twitches against your lips. 

The sudden movement startles a soft gasp out of you and fills you with heat so much worse than the stifling humidity in the air. You go completely still, holding your breath for a few moments while you wait to see if he wakes up, but the rise and fall of his chest maintains its steady rhythm against your back. Curiously, you lean in to kiss him a second time and, shit, there it goes again. 

An intrusive thought suddenly pops into your sleep-addled brain, telling you how good it would feel to sink your teeth into the firm, velvety skin. How salty it would taste on your tongue, and how he would probably unconsciously resist you, that twitch becoming a full-blown flex. You give into it before you can stop yourself, roughly biting a bruise into his arm, sucking hard when the muscle spasms into your mouth.

And that definitely wakes him up.

“Christ—w-what the—,” he rips his arm out from under you, and you immediately mourn the loss as your head flops onto his pillow. “—what…baby, the fuck was that for?”

You turn over, looking up at him sheepishly. He looks bleary-eyed, his soft, graying curls in complete disarray, but you can't bring yourself to feel particularly bad. That was totally worth it.

He eyes you expectantly when you don’t immediately answer, still looking dazed and a little stunned after being woken up so abruptly.

“Wanna tell me what that was?” he asks again, voice slurred and thick with sleep. He's propped up on his elbow above you, bicep still in reach, so you press an apologetic kiss into his reddening skin...and your teeth marks.

"I...honestly, I got nothing," you laugh, nuzzling into the crook of his elbow, mouthing wetly around the edges of the bruise. "It was right next to my face, so I kinda just went for it."

Your tongue darts out to taste him and it's even better than you thought, heady and so distinctly Joel, so you continue your path, shifting to the side to brush your lips along his forearm. He tenses, almost imperceptibly, but you feel it keenly, the intricately corded muscles shifting under his tanned, weather-worn skin. 

"You could take it as a compliment," you continue, tilting your head to throw him a cheeky smile. He quirks an eyebrow as if to ask how waking him up at ass o'clock in the morning on his day off could be complimentary. "I'm just admiring all that work you've been putting in on those extra patrol shifts."

He looks a little dubious, and it makes your heart ache. For as long as you've known him, and even more so since you've been together, Joel's never been great with praise, especially when it comes to his body. Maybe it's the age difference or just aging, but he wouldn't allow himself to be vulnerable with you for a long time, emotionally or physically.

He'd hide himself from you, always mumbling things you hated hearing about the softness of his stomach, the lines adorning his brow, or the skin under his arms, and it would make you furious. How dare he say any of that when you love all of those bits and pieces so much?

So, you've made it your personal mission to make sure he knows exactly how sexy he is whenever you get the chance, whether he's covered in grime and viscera, or completely naked and inside you.

"Probably coulda waited until later, don't'cha think?" There's a tiny smile forming on his tired face, and it encourages you to keep going. 

"Yeah, but isn't this more convincing? You looked so good, I couldn't even help myself," you say, running your fingertips along a beautifully jagged scar that runs right through where you bit him. You squeeze his arm teasingly, and he flexes for you, on purpose this time. "So strong," you joke, your tone completely contradicting the ache worsening in your core.

He chuckles, and his whole body shakes with it, jostling the thigh still wedged between your legs. That familiar heat from earlier returns with a vengeance as it drags across where you're still slick with last night's release, and you inhale sharply, catching his attention.

"Ya like my arms that much, huh?" he mumbles, voice unexpectedly gravelly, but the way he's looking at you is so fond, full of affection and something a little more complicated.

"I really, really do," you reply softly, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his wrist to drape his other arm over your waist. He wraps himself around you, pulling you tight against his chest, and you feel so tiny in his arms. Protected.

And he feels so powerful. You barely get the chance to nuzzle into the coarse hairs tickling your cheek before you’re flipped on top of him, knees bracketing his hips. Your hands shoot out to steady yourself and land on his shoulders, squeezing once you've settled into his lap.

His eyes meet yours, and there's that complicated look again, the one you still haven't figured out. Your mind races, searching for the answer, until his hands splay across your waist, thick-fingered and broad. 

And then he's lifting you up, just enough to line himself up with your entrance, and easing you down and up until he's fully seated inside you.

You breathe out a sigh of relief in unison, adjusting to the other as sweat drips freely down your bodies. The room is still scorching, even hotter now with the rising sun and your combined exertion. 

That beautiful flush Joel gets when you're intimate has started to spread from his cheeks down to his neck, spilling across his chest and into those perfect goddamn arms, straining with the effort of holding himself back from fucking into you like he wants to.

But you want something, too.

"Joel, can you...," you breathe out, feeling a little shy for asking but needing it badly enough to go through with it anyway. "Fuck, can you do it, please?"

He looks confused but so needy, nodding his head before he even knows what you're asking for. 

"'Course, baby, whatever you want," he grits out, grip tightening on your waist. "Jus' tell me 'n I'll do it."

"Use me. Want you to show me how strong you are—handle me," you suck your bottom lip wetly into your mouth, trailing your fingers from his shoulders downward, digging your nails into the hard planes of his deltoids. He hisses out a breath through his teeth. "Will you do that for me?"

In lieu of an answer, he lurches forward, sitting up with you in his lap to give you exactly what you asked for. And it's better than you ever could've imagined.

The solid muscle in his upper arms bulges as he drives you up and down his cock, and you wrap your hands around them greedily, feeling every expansion and contraction. Your mouth waters as you watch his thick, prominent veins strain against his skin, and you're hit with a sudden, strong urge to bite him again. 

So, you do. You bend down to suck hard at the taught skin, and his responding groan is so loud and drawn out, you feel it rumble beneath your lips.

"Shit—baby, you keep doin' that, 'm not gonna last long," he moans into your ear, still bouncing you on his cock, showing zero signs of slowing down. 

Fuck, how is he so strong? He's lifting you up and down like you're a ragdoll, shaking your entire being with the force, and you clench tighter as you hurtle closer to the edge. You separate your mouth from him to drop your head into the crook of his neck so you can watch him. Watch the raw power flowing through his body, and all those perfect parts he doesn't like about himself work you like no one ever has before.

And he's watching you, too, with so much want and desire, and, ah. That's what it is. That look—it's appreciation. He looks so grateful for you that you want to drown in it, surround yourself with it.

"Good. Hold me," you whimper, muffled as you throw your arms around his shoulders to bury your face into his skin. "Hold me close when you cum." 

He must've been right there, teetering on the cusp, because suddenly his arms snake around you, crushing you to his chest as he pistons up, cumming as deep as he can reach. They tense against you erratically, matching every pulse of his cock as he empties inside you.

He moans softly and sweetly in your ear as you cry out into his, your lower half squeezing him rhythmically as your orgasm crashes over you. You let him grind up into you through the aftershocks until you're both too exhausted to stay upright.

Tipping backward, Joel brings you back down onto the bed with him and rolls you over onto your sides. You smile up at him lazily, still happily nestled up against his chest, and he bends down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

"Hell of a workout ya just put me through," he mumbles, sounding incredibly amused and thoroughly tired out. 

"Seemed like you enjoyed yourself, though," you snort, shifting just enough that his cock slips out of you, a thick glob of cum dripping onto the sheets. "I know I sure did."

"Yeah, bet ya did," he rolls his eyes, pinching your sides teasingly. "'Specially since I was doin' all the damn work."

"But you were so good at it," you can't help but wriggle your arms out from where they're wedged between your bodies to stroke his arms again. And hopefully his ego. "And you looked so good doing it."

His cheeks tinge that pretty shade of burgundy you love, and you know you hit the mark. He ducks his head down to kiss your cheek.

"Uh-huh. Next time, s'gonna be your workout," he murmurs, sighing as you start to massage his sore muscles. They twitch tiredly under your careful attention. His eyes flutter closed as the heat and exhaustion finally catch up with him, muttering sleepily, "'n I get to enjoy the view."

You lean up to kiss his lips, chaste and gentle.

"Deal."

[peanutbutterandbananasandwichs]

what are some of ur random/casual sam hcs

Eee yuss love to think about this :)

Sam eventually ends up self-diagnosing as autistic after school flags up that they think DJ might be autistic and they end up getting him assessed and diagnosed. Sam does a ton of reading because he wants to do his best to help DJ and asks him what would help too. And one day DJ is just like "you know it tends to run in families dad?" and just kinda gestures at Sam's meticulously organised bookshelves and plate of the same food he's eaten every day for the last week and Sam is like "Oh!". He decides he doesn't really feel the need to get a formal diagnosis but it does help him feel closer to DJ and like he understands himself a little better and occasionally cut himself a little more slack for things he struggles with.

Sam's magic phase when he was a kid lasted two whole years and started with a tattered old magic tricks book he found in a second-hand shop he and Dean visited one afternoon when John was out of town. John came home and Dean was immediately like "dad its not my fault!" when Sam had a whole table set up with tricks he'd learnt ready to show John, but John couldn't even be annoyed because it was actually kinda cute. (Took about two weeks before that wore off and he was on Sam's case for practising his tricks instead of his shooting skills.)

Sam and Jess read The Lord of the Rings together, they would alternative reading a chapter each out loud each night. Jess went full ham with the voices.

Sam only started sleeping mostly on his stomach after Jess died.

His second favourite sandwich (after peanut butter and banana obviously) is a veggie BLT.

Sam hates wearing socks and takes them off literally the first opportunity he gets (sensory issues).

Soulless Sam experiences an even greater level of sensory awareness than Sam did previously, but he finds everything much more tolerable despite that because none of it bothers him.

When Sam was a kid (until about say 10 or 11), he used to collect library reading scheme cards (do they have those in the States idk?) from every library they visited in the hopes that they might come back and he’d eventually be able to complete one!

Jody looked after Sam for a few days after he showed up at her doorstep when he was looking for Dean between S9/10 - it was just after he'd injured his shoulder and she insisted he stay and heal up a bit (wrote a long version of this here).

In the weeks after A Very Supernatural Christmas, after Sam has found out about monsters he becomes stuck to Dean like glue. He grips onto his hand extra tight as they walk to school in the morning, he insists they sleep in the same bed at night, even if there are two beds there (and he always, always checks very thoroughly under the bed before they are allowed to go to sleep). John and Dean both assume of course that he’s freaked out about the monsters and worried that they are going to get him. One night when they are left in the motel room together on their own, and Sam is being particularly clingy, Dean get’s fed up and tries to storm out, telling Sam to leave him alone for 5 minutes. It’s then that Sam jumps up and blurts out “but then I can’t protect you from the monsters”.

I'll stop there or I'll never stop

[narrators-journal]

For the Lovecraft ask can we add breeding kink and squirting and maybe size kink and belly bulge

Also maybe reader is his wife and she’s turned on by him

I just kinda went wild with your prompt ngl. Lovecraft is still reader’s husband, and she’s still turned on by him! But I wrote this less as a bsd-exclusive kinktober-style fic, and leaned into the monsterfucking aspect to just GO HAM on the tentacles and monster angle. So yes, this is Lovecraft x reader, but it’s also kinda able to be read as a general monster smut. Which, was fun to write! Sorry if I went a bit light on some things, or it’s not quite to your liking on the details, this is sort of my toe back in the water after kinktober.

Thankfully it’s not as bad as last year, but ya still gotta give yourself some leniency after a challenge, y’know?

CW: teratophilia, sacrificing, tentacles, possible oviposition? U can kinda ignore that tbh, but it’s there. Breeding kink is lightly impied, size difference is also implied, squirting

It was an ancient, possibly outdated tradition, to sacrifice women to a god in exchange for a good harvest. Yet, ever since you could remember, each spring had been marked by the offering of a fertile woman to the god of the sea your town relied on. Normally, said woman was on the younger side, around eighteen to twenty for the best fertility chances, but your grandmother had always warned you that standards were likely to change. So, as you bathed and mentally prepared for whatever happened to the sacrificial brides of your god, you weren’t surprised at your position.

You weren’t a virgin, nor were you eighteen, or even twenty, in fact, you’d gotten married before you had been chosen to be this year’s sacrifice. Yet, there you were. Your hands being tied behind your back by your husband before you were walked down to the beach, nude, to await your new ‘husband’.

Like any other sacrifice to your town’s god, you had been tied to the edge of the dock. Your hands bound behind you, your foot tied firmly to one of the sturdy supports. So, all you could really do was sit on the rough wood of the water-warped platform and listen to the waves lazily lapping at the sand beneath the dark, star-speckled night sky.

However, it wasn’t more than two hours max before you first spotted an odd, slow movement in the water. Too slow for it to be some sort of person, but too big to be a fish. It’s okay, You told yourself as you watched the form approach and sink into the glittering soup before you, Brides don’t always turn up dead. It’ll probably be okay, no matter what happens.

With that, you took a deep breath to calm the knot of anxiety that formed in your chest. Yet,when you felt the cold, watery slime of a tentacle’s smooth skin against your own, you still jumped and attempted to scramble away. Yet, there was little you could do beyond scoot as far from the edge of the dock as your tether allowed. Not that your nerves did much to dissuade more green tentacles from rising out of the water to snake around your ankles and wrists, or around your waist to trap you in place. To hold you hostage while more tentacles emerged from the cool sea water to explore your nude body. It was disgusting.

Yet, at the same time, it was thrilling.

Ever since you were little, you had heard tales and rumors about all of the many things that might happen to the ‘brides’ your town offered to the sea god in exchange for the plentiful fish, including the exact situation you now sat in. But, in those past years until your own eighteenth birthday had passed, some part of you had always feared the possibility of becoming the sea god’s bride.

However, when you’d passed eighteen and gotten married, that fear had gone dormant. But, it hadn’t left completely. After all, how could a woman ever put to rest the anxiety of being one bad flu season away from being chosen to risk being torn to shreds or split in half?

Only to find, that the slow slide of tentacles, and the gentle kisses of their suction cups against your nipples or the tender skin of your inner thigh didn’t disgust or scare you as much as you had expected. Instead, they excited you.

Even when a rather meaty tentacle slipped between your legs to prod at your dampening cunt, the pressure of it against your folds sent lightning through your blood, and the stretch of it pushing into you was enough to wipe away the fears and earn a lewd noise. And while yes, you weren’t a virgin, as hardships had left sacrificial options too slim to offer an eighteen-year-old woman and ensure something like that, there was simply something far more exciting than your human husband could achieve.

Yet, that didn’t keep the tentacle from settling deep within you, creating a bit of a bulge in your belly while your muscles twitched and stretched to accommodate the growing girth of the appendage within you. Nor, did it stop the tentacle when it began to move.

In. Out. In. Out. The tentacle’s movements within you were slow. Curious, almost. The odd, slick appendage somehow able to brush against and find each of your sweet spots as it pushed deeper into you to explore every inch of your gummy walls. And, while the monster you had been sacrificed to didn’t seem interested in your pleasure, the tentacle’s slow, thorough thrusts and flexes still managed to draw lewd moans out into the warm night’s air. Oh god, why does this feel so good? You managed to think while your back arched off of the rough wood of the dock you laid on into the inquisitive caress and attention of the tentacles that still squeezed and toyed with your breasts. Feeding the fire in your veins that you tried to ignore, even as the more primal, needy part of you begged, More. More! I feel too good. I need more! In a shameful plea for that pleasure to continue to be indulged.

And, as if the god had read those deep, lust-addled thoughts, the tentacles that snaked around your breasts and toyed with your nipples squeezed your mounds and the thicker tendril that stretched your cunt so deliciously flexed against that special spot within you. Pulling another, louder cry of desire from your throat with the force of the lightning it sent hurdling through you. Yet, even as your blood screamed with need, and the chill of the water-cooled tentacles that held your wrists and legs down were the only things keeping your small body from combusting, your new husband kept going. “Hah! W-wait! Hold on!”You begged into the spring night’s air, able to feel the tell-tale tightening of your muscles with each brush of that thick tendril against your g-spot. “I-I’m gonna- ngh!- going to c-cum! I’m gonna cum!” You screamed, no longer scared of your fellow townsfolk hearing your blissful calls over the waves when your euphoria crashed down upon you with such force that your juices squirted out slightly.

Though, your pleasure didn’t end with the deviant pleasure. You merely got a brief break from the friction, as the tentacle that sat buried in you stilled to let you stare up into the colorful night sky and catch your breath. And, for a second, you thought your monster husband had somehow sensed that you had orgasmed and was going to stop or at least pause their movements. However, the tentacle only paused for a moment, before you felt the already thick girth of the tendril move more within you.

Not to continue fucking into your twitching entrance, though, but to push something into you. The...egg? Capable of being felt as it slid down the length of the tentacle to settle into your womb. Followed quickly by more and more masses being pumped into your belly to the point that your belly began to look bloated. Not that you minded, though. You simply laid on the dock, listening to the waves lap against the supports beneath you while the tentacles kept hold of your limbs until your monstrous husband was satisfied with how plump your belly had gotten. Only then, did those strong tendrils finally release you to lay on the dock beneath the stars. Exhausted, slimy, and bred.

[ask-missparker]

—This is your place?

—

Arron & Mia - Father Daughter Duo

Continue this fanfic

Summary: Sometimes your father can see right through you while you’re still alive…

Mention of -> May Parker, Skye, and her friends

Warning: Some angst and fluff

——

After the simple agreement was made by the two parties, they headed out to one of the homes in the small village. And if anyone had to be honest, The Afterlife, was actually kinda beautiful.

Greenery everywhere, people with powers young and old walking around, guardsmen at some point of entrance and other things. It was actually quite common and comforting with its architecture as well. Modern architecture with a classic design inspired by European and Chinese architectural elements.

Arron led his daughter to his quiet home in the mist of the valley.

This is your place? She wondered.

It seem like any other classic rustic style house, with wood floors, gray walls and a combination of modern furniture with a comfortable vintage interior. To be honest, she liked it. It seemed like a house you could see in a whole wooden doll house. Arron could sense she liked it, even if Mia wasn’t going to admit it.

He gestured for her to sit down and get comfortable.

As soon as Mia sat down on the black leather couch and lean back against the cushions she hummed. She then asked, “Alright..what do you want to know?”

“Hold on.” He replied softly chuckling as tossing her a water bottle, guessing she might be thirsty or something. Of course she caught it.

Mia nodded as her lips pouted slightly and looked around. She didn’t see any signs of other life in the house or anything. She thought she would see a woman’s jacket or even a bra laying around, but she saw nothing of the sort. Stupid posters on the wall, weapons laying around and an empty box of junk food? Nope. He was probably hiding them somewhere safer.

No beer bottles either? Maybe in the kitchen he has them? She wondered.

She didn’t know weather to lie here about her thoughts about—she realized it was silent for too long.

Suddenly she politely says, “This place looks nice..”

Arron smiled, “Thanks. Are you hungry? You were asleep for a while.”

“No. I’m fine.”

Lie. Arron clocked that from a mile away.

She was starving.

“I’mma get you something to eat.” He said before walking away.

“But I’m..” She says trying to protest but was caught off by his sudden tone.

He repeated firmly, “I’mma get you something to eat.”

Moments went by before Arron returned with a simple sandwich. Ham and cheese. She glanced at it for a moment in hesitation as she took the plate from him. After a few seconds, she took a bite and murmured in disbelief, realizing that he added two different slices of cheese with turkey ham.

Swiss and cheddar cheese with melted butter, layered with a nice slice of ham, between two slices of wheat bread.

“This is good.” She mumbled before taking a few more bites.

Truth. Arron clocked that too and smiled.

“Didn’t think this would be your definition of ‘get you something to eat’..” She mumbled as she ate, glancing up at him.

He cross his arms and scoffed, “What were you expecting? A bag of chips and a bottle of beer?”

“Well when you put it that way, it sounds pretty much the exact idea one would expect.”

“A beer with a bag of chips, would not do well after you been asleep and injured.”

“How did you..?”

“Don’t ask. I just know.”

She stayed silent and just ate.

Arron obverse her as he took a deep sip of water. His daughter’s face with completely May Parker, except her eyes and hairline, that’s all him. Hell, the way she looked at him in the sunlight, he clocked her skin tone to be similar to him. The way she sat reminded him of his sister.

Her smile and the way she presented herself, was her mother’s but her quiet attitude was him.

An impulsive spirit and a strong desire or sense to fire when ready, if she’s not trusted by anyone.

However. There was this glow to her that he couldn’t quite understand, this sweet little girl, had still been trying to figure out how the world worked. This flickering grin in her eyes that’s clearly been knocked over but rebuilt over time and time again.

There were other features he could not quite grasp yet.

He wondered if she was loved and appreciated by others…

It’s one this ability allowed him to see, the truth and lies within someone. And because Amelia was in a vulnerable position, it was a matter of whether he can see all of it or just none.

“Wha..?” Amelia said softly as she finished eating and looking at him.

“Nothing..just, you look so much like your mom. It’s scary how much you reflect her…and me.” He replied in a hush tone, his thick voice shining through.

“Oh. I thought people just said that as a compliment to a daughter and mother…”

“For your case, from the last time I saw your mama, yeah, you look pretty much like her.”

That actually got a smile from Mia. An actual smile, not the half-ass ones that he used to see. Her soft smile lit up her cheekbones and her eyes.

Arron couldn’t help but smile back at her. It was infectious.

“Well, I gotta ask. How—what are your abilities? Aside from the skills you already possess.” She asked leaning her elbow against her couches armrest and rest her chin in her hand.

He smiled a little knowing that was probably on her mind but nonetheless he answered her. He scoffed, “I can see if someone is lying or telling me the truth about whatever it is that happened last. It’s how I did—still do my job.”

“Oh, wow. Nothing gets past you, huh?”

“Not always, I have to be focused and present myself to do it. I can sense it coming internally.”

He wasn’t even going to tell her about the shadow part, that was only meant for him to see. But the rest was correct in what he said.

“That’s actually kinda cool.” Mia said in a deep blunt yet soft tone, her normal high pitched voice still shining through.

He gave her a half smile and chuckled, “Yeah? Here I thought it was funny joke to someone like you.”

“Well, I mean, you’re kinda like a human lie detector, if that makes sense…?”

“Yeah, no, that’s right. It just means I’m honest for the sake of being honest.”

There was a moment of silence that washed over them before Arron decided to ask, “So, what do you do?”

“What?” She asked taking a sip of the water bottle.

“Our deal was that I get to know you a bit, right? So, what do you do skill wise?”

“Oh, ummm, I’m a field agent and a bit of a technical expert at SHIELD. Scouting places, going on tours, hunting down people and recruiting the right ones for the job.”

Arron couldn’t help but grin hearing that. He wasn’t the least bothered concerned about her job, he should be ashamed or worried about her health seeing how she was injured, but he was impressed.

Look at her size. She was tiny and she managed to keep up with the big gun?! And young too! He thought.

However his attitude slipped into his lips as he said, “No way in hell, you do all of that. I don’t even think you can handle that much weight on your shoulders or skill level.”

She blinked not expecting his response to be that and shifted in her seat, “W-what is that supposed to mean? Your insulting me my line of work?”

“No, no, sweetheart, just don’t expect for you to do all of that. You got your ass handed to you on your way here.” He replied smoothly.

“I—well, in my defense, i did not expect to be blasted and I been having a rough day so far…”

“Okay, we’ll see later in the field how well you can fire a gunshot. What about power wise?”

“Power wise?”

——

Arron gave her a look, as if she was dumb. It’s not like he asked her to take a shit in a hole or something. He just asked for her abilities. Mia was brought in due to her lack of knowledge of her own other skills, not for her relation to other players.

“Look, I’m not gonna you shit if you don’t start talking.” He added leaning against the wall to look down at her frame, then sighed realizing he sounded harsh and spoke again, “Sorry. I’m not gonna push you then if you’re not willing to tell me. And that’s okay, angel.”

If Mia had to be honest, she would’ve never thought she would be in this position ever. She seen countless of time like this, where people would have absolutely no interest or sympathy for telling her story. Or, she was on the other end of it all, listening to people’s opinions and concerns about their lives.

How they were treated by others, traumatized, looking for some kind of purpose and sympathy. The list goes on. Hell, some of her friends were still going through their own struggles with their trauma and transition to be better.

She was always the one to listen, humor the other person or try and convince them to speak out about their own problems. Lending a comfortable hand and words of support for them.

She spent half of her time making sure everyone else was okay and never really cared to talk about her feelings, pushing them away or in particular trying to make herself look good. No one really asked or knew how to comfort her, it was always her doing the job for them. They don’t always notice the signs but she does.

So the fact that Arron was asking her about something like this…that was a first.

Coulson, May and maybe even a friend or two would be truly concerned for her. But this was a big first.

After a moment she spoke, “Power wise..I can sense, manipulation and control someone’s emotions. I can feel their presence and thoughts in a way.”

“How did it happen?” He asked softly, surprised she actually told him.

“After a rumbling trip to Puerto Rico islands…an accident occurred between us trying to get an item before Hydra did…but it didn’t go as planned because Skye went down there, in the caves, with a fellow agent…that’s when the destination came, a huge pile of debris and rock came crashing down..I rushed in to get Skye and um..Tripp…soon enough I was blasted back and surrounded by rock..”

“Oh jeez…oh damn! Are you kidding me right? You actually survived that long trip?”

“Yeah, I survived and everyone was questioned about it..even scanned for any kind of damage…but I kept getting headaches and nausea..a weird sensation in my chest, in my head..like I can barely breathe…”

“You were being consumed by your powers. They were slowly coming in…w-was there anything specific that must’ve triggered it?”

“Did you not just hear the whole incident?”

He chuckled light and scoffed, “No, I heard it. You sensed a lot all at once. But what exactly happened that you remembered?”

“We were grieving an agent, a friend of ours..Trip was down there with Skye, when i rushed in, all I saw was Tripp’s ashes and rock surrounding where he once stood…and back at base, everyone was fighting, sad, and distant with each other..” She explained with a slight scoff, “..umm, at a lot of anger and frustration..I almost snapped..”

“Did you? Did you snap?”

“..eventually I snapped, I accidentally fell into a trap where I screamed at the group and manipulated them to stop their anger for a second…they looked at me confused…everyone didn’t question it and went on with their grief, until I went to the a friends place to try and convince myself I was fine..”

Amelia kept explaining what she could remember and Arron just listened, no advice or cheesy comments of support. He didn’t even try to downplay how she felt, like one of her friends did. He just listened an awful amount of listen as he went to side beside her. Occasionally he nodded or said something in comfort.

Yes, she was still dealing with a lot and couldn’t control when it happened, or when people got mad. Other times she would downplay her own behavior or chalk it up to her going crazy. But she felt kinda good, being able to talk about it and the cool breeze from the window helped.

After a moment Arron said, “I think you were sent here to try and relax, Amelia. Get away from your worries and struggles, try and control yourself for a bit…maybe meet someone who gets it?”

“What do you mean..?” She asked softly.

“From the stories I heard from being here, the second you start acting different or your character becomes more…oddly enough not the version of you people like, they start to behave differently.”

“They judge you for some simple action that happened to you…all my friends met me, before this incident, and now I am just a bit different.”

He gave her shoulder a small squeeze and then rubbed small circles on her back. He wasn’t sure if he should give her a side hug yet, but Mia lean against his shoulder instantly. That cause him to wrap an arm around her gently. She buried her face into his chest feeling a sense of comfort and felt his compassion, despite it being under that tough exterior and tension.

——

The two went on to talk about other things. School, friends, life experiences and cracking a few jokes more often than not. There were moments where the topics got serious, like when he asked about her dysfunctional relationship with her friends or her line of work.

The two even joked about favoring certain types of films than others. Hey, they did need some conversation starter!

Arron often tried to give her a simple explanation when she asked him about his past missions, people he met in life, his relationship with his sister Bobbi and how he met her mother. He honestly thought he wouldn’t have to talk much about May, but he knew it was coming.

“Your mother was honestly one of a kind in her own right.” He said with a soft grin, “Creative, strong, sweet as hell and stubborn…when she knew she wanted something, she did it. We honestly fought a lot about stupid things…but I never remember how I met her.”

“How? Mom said it was a trip to a friend’s wedding when you met.” She said smiling.

“Yeah, some friend of mine had a wedding he was doing to and he thought, he could bring me as a plus one. I went to humor him and at the party, h saw your mother standing outside the balcony talking with someone. And I walked over. She smiled.”

“Yeah? Cause I know my mom got a pretty smile but still…”

“Well, she had her smile, her short hair and a hot black dress that—”

That’s when Mia made a face and shook her head, “Nope! Nah, nuh uh, don’t finish that sentence. I get it..I got the picture.”

Arron smirked snickering at her reaction, “Hey, you asked!”

“But that’s not what I meant..”

“Yeah, sure, but that’s what I meant by remembering that day.”

——

There was still uncertainty and speculation about whether this was a good thing so far. It hung in the air. But so far, it wasn’t so bad. Yeah, sure, they had some stuff they still didn’t address about their relationship, question they needed to ask themselves and things that possibly might be useful for Mia’s stay here.

That was just the surface level stuff. But honestly, it seemed like neither of them wanted to go beyond that level anyway.

Plus, Mia was itching to check on Skye as well, despite knowing she was possibly okay and trying to adjust to the circumstances of her life. The situation in general.

But before Arron or Mia could say anything else, there was a knock on the door. He held up a hand when he saw her reach for her pocket for a gun. He shook his head and stood up to answer it.

The moment it was opened, Mia got a glimpse of who it was.

In front of her stood a young man. Dirty blonde hair, a light complexion and soft yet sharp green eyes. He wore a burgundy shirt, dark brown pants and boots, but you can tell he had a weapon in his pocket. He smiled at Arron but then caught sight of Mia.

He spoke to Arron for a few moments, talking about security measures and a few new developments in the area. How there were a couple of other people who wanted to talk with him about shipping containers and supplies. Arron nodded gently.

He then noticed how Mia was catching the blonde’s gaze and how she responded with a small smile.

Arron put a hand on her shoulder before saying, “Jeremy, this is my daughter Mia.”

Jeremy smiled holding out a hand, “Jeremy Michaelis.”

Mia shook his hand smiling, “Amelia Parker. Nice to meet you.”

Arron smiled, “I have work to do. How about Jeremy show you around?”

“Great.” Mia replied softly smiling.

“Cool.” Jeremy added right after still smiling as he chuckled.

With that, Arron left leaving the two of them alone to their own devices.

——

Ahhh! That’s all folks and that’s how she met Jeremy 😉

Please let me know what you think about Mia and her dad so far?

- @gcthvile @meiramel l l @aidanxsophxoxo @blueboirick @wizzzardofoz z z @finlayholmes @ethan-lensherr @elzabeth-stark k @marvelsfavoriteuncle @sci-fi-lexcon @ask-starrk @therealdaydreamstark @luna-d-marsh @rickb-chaos @the-x-ladiesofnyc @trulysummersprivate @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre

[ionfusionpunk]

hello, what’s this about awake craniotomies and clone chip removal? (I don’t follow you, I just saw your note in the reblogs and went “oooo this seems interesting!”)

Heyo! Of all the things I've commented on a post, I think this is exactly the one I expected to hear about the least lolol. I'm warning you, this is... a long post. It got away from me, I'm so sorry T-T (It's heckin long. I'm really sorry. I'll summarize at the top and you can read more beneath the break if you want.)

Long story short, I hyper fixated on this tiny little detail that really doesn't actually affect anything within the SW universe lmao.

TL;DR: The clones should be awake for their chip removal procedures with the exception of extenuating circumstances. Also, disclaimer, I'm not in the medical field, I just love research. If I get anything wrong, anyone is free to correct me :)

If you have any questions, please ask, I'm not very good at explaining things in way others understand at first. So it all makes sense to me, but you might not follow my leaps in logic 😅

Longer story: I was reading a fic this morning, and the clones involved got their chip removed. The text said something about 'waiting for them to wake up from the surgery', and it just kinda... idk, hit me that I have never ever read any fic where the clone doesn't have to wake up from being completely sedated for brain surgery.

Now, look. Write what you wanna write, like I said, it's not a big thing. But one of my neurodivergent quirks is that inaccuracy/misinformation/ignorance (willful or innocent) kinda bugs me? I like knowing that other people know things - know correct things. It brings me satisfaction and helps me sleep at night. So I kinda notice trends in what people seem to not/know.

My first thought when I realized the trend of complete sedation for brain surgery/chip removal led to me to draw two conclusions: a) As happens in fandom, most everyone just writes clones completely sedated for this procedure bc everyone else does. No biggie. It's easier, and again, doesn't really matter. b) Most everyone is working off misinformation pulled from inaccurate medical dramas and the assumptions made by the average fic writer. Again, not an issue. It's fiction. I just like... accuracy. So my brain took this and went ham.

Kay. So, there's this really cool thing about the brain that I'm starting to think isn't common knowledge? I'm kinda a nerd for weird medical things, and it's been a long time since my high school biology class where I first learned about this, so maybe it's just me. The brain doesn't have any pain receptors. None. Like, if you had just a living brain in the palm of your hand and you stabbed it or punched it or whatever, it wouldn't feel pain. Pressure maybe, since it still has touch receptors, but no pain whatsoever. The only pain receptors present around the vicinity of the brain are the ones around the brain.

This little fact led to a really cool and helpful medical advancement several years ago: this thing called awake craniotomies, or brain surgery where the patient is still conscious. The benefit is that it allows the surgical team to engage the patient and actively monitor cognitive function; this is a far step from waiting for the patient to wake up in order to determine if the surgeon done effed up and turned the patient into a vegetable - if they woke up at all, that is.

Originally this was practiced on epileptic patients bc, yanno, epilepsy. It's a really finicky condition, after all. Since then however we've managed to find other treatment options for epilepsy and other related conditions, so awake craniotomies (or conscious craniotomies as I call them, since it alliterates lol), so we've moved away from brain surgery there. Instead, awake craniotomies are now most often performed when removing or recessing a brain tumor. Again, it's a really finicky process, and the surgeon and their team really like being able to check on the patient during the whole process.

Before anyone freaks out about the pain receptors around the brain, there's an answer for that, too. A local anesthetic is used to completely numb the skull and scalp. Think of an epidural; it's the same idea.

Now, you may ask, how this all relates back to SW? Well, that's a great question lmaoooo. Now, in all of canon SW, there are only... seven (maybe eight) instances of a clone getting their chip removed. Tup, Fives, Rex, Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Omega (and Crosshair if his chip actually was removed like he said, I haven't watched TBBS2 yet). Actually, did Kix? I don't remember. Anyway.

I'm operating off the assumption that SW medical knowledge/tech is about equal to our own - i.e. that they still use many of the same procedures/practices/techniques for most things bar canonical exceptions. My friend in the server however pointed out that they weren't sure any clone medic could perform a complex brain surgery. Now, that's a fair point. The Kaminoans wouldn't care to teach the medics how to perform those surgeries on each other; they're products, they can be replaced, so what's the point?

But. Here are my counterpoints to that.

First. In the event of an emergency, it would only make sense that a clone medic be prepared to perform any sort of necessary procedure on a natborn officer or even their Jedi general/commander in the event they could not make it to a medical station or a proper surgeon in time. If there were natborn medics trained in complicated procedures and stationed on the ships, then there's always the chance there would be far more clone medics than them, and thus if they die, the clone medics would need to be able to step up in their place. So. Clone medics can probably perform brain surgery.

Second. With Fives, Rex, and CF99 (minus Crosshair), they remove their chips via surgical droid/machine. In fact, both Rex and CF99 do so on a GAR class ship. This shows that not only did the clones have access to the necessary technology, but it could also be easily operated. And not only that, but the only thing they needed was a program to locate and remove the chip. I think the importance of the program is that the machine itself can't perform a Level 5 Atomic Scan, so the program is needed to triangulate the position of the chip for the surgical machine itself.

Now. As to why an awake craniotomy is the way to go. Again, it allows the team to actively monitor cognitive function. Only in extenuating circumstances will the patient be completely sedated. This could be preference on the patient's part or due to certain circumstances.

Look at Tup, for example. His chip was rotting in his skull, and it's treated like a tumor (technically it is). Keeping him awake risked damage to himself and others. In light of this, it was safer for him to remain fully sedated. Additionally, he probably couldn't be revived completely either due to the already existent brain damage. This is an extenuating circumstance. Note however that there was still a qualified individual present for the surgery: the AZI droid maybe Nale Se, maybe Fives, I legit don't remember I'm so sorry). Now, there is another side to Tup's case: the Kaminoans. Nale Se wouldn't have cared for Tup's continued functionality; she only wanted his chip. She would have kept him sedated out of convenience, because the intent was always to have him decommissioned anyway.

Now for Fives. Fives learned about the chips. He had his removed. Who helped him? AZI. However, my theory here is that it isn't actually AZI performing the surgeries. I think he just... holds the programs for various surgeries and programs the surgical machine. We don't see anything of Fives' actual chip removal procedure, only the aftermath. I hypothesize that Fives was awake in the machine however, just properly anesthetized by AZI - who, as a medical assistant droid, would most likely be programmed as an anesthesiologist - and also observed by AZI. What I'm saying is that AZI probably was monitoring Fives' cognitive functions while he underwent an awake craniotomy to remove the chip in his head.

Rex. We know nothing about that procedure, just that it happened (unless we do, idk). Either another clone medic helped him and was there to monitor cognitive function, or Rex involved the help of another droid in order to be properly anesthetized for the process. Given the intense nature of the circumstances, he wouldn't have wanted to be fully sedated for the process in case he had to respond quickly to the chaos - which he did, leading ultimately to him and Ahsoka escaping with their lives. So, he wouldn't have been monitored (except maybe by a droid), but he definitely wouldn't have been fully sedated, either.

Then for CF99. For these procedures, we see Tech program the machine and then stand watch as they go in. They aren't sedated, with the technical exception of Wrecker (iirc, he was stunned unconscious). It's not just caution or paranoia that makes him observe, and not even just his knowledge of what's happening: it's procedure. He's there, as the only one who would know how to check, monitoring the cognitive function of his family.

Now, the conclusion, lol.

I mentioned my two hypotheses earlier about why fandom as a whole writes the clones being completely sedated. After going through all of this, I'm leaning more towards a simple abundance of misinformation. It's technically and tactically safer and more correct for the clones to be awake for their chip removals, and in fact seems to be subtly portrayed in canon (though it's really written in a way that can be interpreted either way).

The moral of this story is that TV medical dramas are shit and should never be taken at face value. Honestly. No one wakes up after CPR. They remain unconscious for a while. Defibrillation doesn't wake a person up, either. If you're hit hard enough to be knocked unconscious, you have a concussion. It takes seven minutes to kill a person by choking them, not seven seconds, but you can make them pass out in seven seconds if you apply pressure to the write spots on their neck in order to cut blood flow to the brain. Stuff like that. Oh, and yeah: awake craniotomies are a thing and are the safe way to remove a clone's chip.

[mordenheim]

Are we happy? (B)

(This is the second tale that I mistakenly wrote with this prompt. Both were a lot of fun, so why not post them? Now to decide if I end up writing a bonus tale this year...)

The over-muscled thug sighed and shook his head as he made his way down the hall to the boss's office. The job was finally done and he could collect his reward.

He pushed open the door and saw his high-backed leather chair turned away from him on the far side of the room. It was lit from behind by a crackling fireplace that gave an almost cheerful warmth to a room where so many cold plans had been formed.

“Did ya do it, Vin? Did ya get da job done?”

Vinny, nodded, he'd gotten it done, but he didn't feel right about it. He didn't understand why the boss had wanted the kid offed anyway. I mean yeah, he was high-strung and could be pretty annoying with his stupid jokes, but was that really a reason to get rid of them?

“Y.. Yeah, boss, I got the job done. Just like you asked.”

“Good, good. And did ya do it exactly how I asked?”

The brute shivered a little and looked down at his hands. He swore he could still feel the blood on them. He actually felt kind of ashamed of himself for what he'd done for the first time in his life.

“Yeah. Yeah I did it just like you wanted. I've never let you down yet, have I?”

He heard a chuckle at that and tilted his head. He'd never once in all of his years working for him, heard the boss laugh. “Good, good. Yer my number one guy, ya know that Vin?”

“Yes, boss. Done Jack exactly as you asked.”

The chair swiveled side to side, casting weird, long shadows across the floor first on one side of the room, then the other. “No complications, then? All went completely according to plan?”

Vinny looked at the floor. He knew better than to lie to the boss. He always found out anything no matter how well you tried to hide it.

“A.. almost... There was a little mistake at the start, but I still finished...”

The chair stopped moving at that.

“A mistake? What kinda mistake?”

Vinny swallowed hard. That cheery warmth bled out of his bones as he took of his fedora, gripping it tight in his ham sized hands.

“Well, I got up behind him like ya asked, to do him with the piano wore, but when I went for him, he bent down at the same time. Wire went right in his mouth and I tore up his face somethin' bad. I got him down and finished the job the right way, though.”

“Oh really? Sounds like ya made a real mess of things. Did ya make sure to clean up after yerself?”

Vinny nodded so briskly he thought his head might pop off of his shoulders. “Y.. yeah! I made sure to get every drop up, then I took the body to the old junk yard, found the old car ya wanted and stuffed him in the trunk. Should be dropped in the crusher tomorrow morning and then it'll be all done with. Even if they see the blood by that point nobody will be able to identify the body.”

“Good, good. Your payment's in the briefcase on the table over there.” A purple gloved hand waved off to the side, making Vinny pause. Purple wasn't the boss's color, it was Jack's.

Shaking off his nervousness and thinking of the money, he just walked over to the briefcase, his heavy boots clumping across the carpeted floor. He reached out to grab the briefcase and was about to leave when he heard a voice from the chair one more time, not chuckling this time, but giggling. It was weird.

“Heya, Vin. I wanna ask ya something before ya go.”

He turned towards the chair as it rotated to face him. There in the boss's chair, was Jack, his ruined face torn into a mockery of a clown's grin. A huge nickle-plated pistol was gripped in his hand. Vinny didn't even have time to react before it fired three times. One in the gut, severing his spine and dropping him to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. One in the heart, and one right in the skull to put out his lights.

“Are we happy?”

[hamofjustice]

Nemona the Unrivaled

Chapter 3 - A Fresh Start

Info / Chapter Select: here

(This is the last chapter I had lying around before I started working on Ham's League Club Expansion Pack for a while)

“Sigh... alright. How ‘bout we start over. Hi Nemona, my neighbor I’ve never had beef with in my life. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Arven.”

Nemona played along as she rose shakily from the ground to meet his pained smile. “Heh. Hi Arven, nice to meet you too.” She wasn’t really sure if it was normal to be letting him reset their relationship like this, but at this point holding the grudge didn’t feel worth missing out on a connection. She just needed one too badly... and it felt like she’d already made progress on humanizing herself to him, even if it wasn’t in a way she was proud of. It felt like she was just drifting on instinct with no plan now. Hopefully everything didn’t fall apart again...

Once he’d helped her stand, a few awkward moments passed where they were both unsure what to say, or where to look, or what to do with their hands once they’d quickly let go of each other.

Arven eventually decided to just turn to face Miraidon again, with one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his forehead. “So, uh... right then, let’s get to business. What’s that you said about finding this brute crash landed on the beach?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, it just fell right out of the sky like it ran out of fuel or something! I went down to feed it some Berries and fend off a bunch of Houndour that were checking it out, then when it felt better it wanted to come up here to the lighthouse, so we went through that tunnel back there...”

Arven crossed his arms. “Huh. Not sure why it’s here, but I guess it’s probably grateful to you.”

“Agias!” Miraidon affirmed.

“Hmph.”

Nemona couldn’t help but notice the way Arven seemed to resent this Pokemon for some reason, even after calming down. “So... if I can ask now... what’s your connection to Miraidon, Arven? Why’s it pawing at your door?”

Arven took a deep breath and gazed up at the horizon, toward the Great Crater. “You’re not going to babble about this to, uh... Chairwoman Geeta or whoever, right?”

“I meannn... you’re right, we do talk, but I can keep a secret.”

“You sure? President’s honor?”

“Promise.”

“... It used to live here with me. It’s something Dad found in Area Zero, I guess? He just... brought it home one day, didn’t tell me much. Guess it was confidential or what have you. But when it snuck out and people found out about it, he took it with him back into the crater before it caused more of a fuss.” he explained, nodding in the forbidden zone’s direction. “I haven’t seen either of ‘em again until just now, so seeing it with you was a bit much to take in. I used to at least get calls or emails from my old man, trying to convince me how much he still cared and he was totally gonna make it all worth it someday, but... those stopped eventually, too.”

He then turned back to Miraidon. “You really ruined my childhood, y’know.”

“Gia...” it responded, cowering again and looking away.

“Whoof... Well, I don’t know if that’s fair to Miraidon. I mean, Professor Turo could come back for you if he really wanted-”

“Yeah, he sure could’ve!” Arven spat, then stepped back sheepishly when Tauros snorted at him.

Nemona winced. “Sorry. Uh... w-what about your mom? Is she cool at least?”

“... Never really knew her. Took off after I was born for whatever reason. Mother of the year, eh?”

Nemona’s eyes turned to saucers.

”Apparently she used to work with Dad, but they fought so much that she just completely up and left one day. Don’t think they even had the chance to get married. Maybe I reminded her of him so much that she didn’t... wanna look at me. Kinda like how I don’t wanna look at this brute. Who knows. Who cares! She can shove it too. Probably just wanted a little lab assistant instead of a son. So yeah, I may as well be an orphan at this rate.”

“Oh my gosh, Arven... I had no idea...”

“Yeah. So that’s what me being ‘the big shot son of the famous, brilliant Professor Turo’ has gotten me in life. And then... uh...”

Arven seemed to be looking at something over Nemona’s shoulder and stopped talking. Nemona turned to look as well.

Adam was walking down the road as far away from them as possible, but when he noticed them looking at him -- or maybe when he heard Arven say who he was in such an over-the-top snarky tone -- he glared straight at them as he passed by. Nemona felt cold and sick again, but Adam never said anything.

Step by step, the anticipation was tearing Nemona up. But nothing happened. Adam just kept on going and eventually looked away and disappeared down the hill ahead.

Arven slumped forward once the new trainer was out of sight. “...Yeesh, what was that all about? S’like that little guy was possessed by the lingering spirit of my beef with you or something.”

Nemona snorted and smiled, to her own surprise. “Heh. Um... that was Adam, he just moved in next door. I uh, well... We, um... He doesn’t like me, no.”

“What’d you do? Uh I mean, what happened?”

Nemona narrowed her eyes at the implication it was her fault, but she resisted snapping back. “Well, uh... basically I told him I was a Champion who wanted to... start my team and my Gym Challenge over, to be a rival to somebody new, and picked out a new little starter Pokemon along with him. Y’know, I wanted to... take him under my wing, share some of my stuff and my knowledge, watch him grow! Maybe... maybe make a... a friend out of it...” she recounted, tapping her fingertips together.

Arven raised an eyebrow when Nemona got shaky at that last part.

“... But he seemed to think I was just doing it to, I don’t know, stroke my ego, or boss him around, or whatever the heck else people think I do. He...” Nemona had to hug herself while she thought about it. “...He kinda started ranting about it at me, until Director Clavell chewed him out for it. It was like Adam thought he already knew who I was and had enough of me in, like... minutes. It just... ouch, y’know? And, to be honest. I don’t think the Director sticking up for me did anything to help the kid thinking I was some kind of ‘teacher’s pet,’ either...”

“...Oh.” Arven guiltily rubbed the back of his neck. “...How many times did you battle him?“

“I didn’t even ask for one yet!” Nemona responded with an angry pout.

“Huh. So that’s the state you were in when I came along and did the same thing to you, huh...”

She softened. “Yeah. ...Yeah. Y-you didn’t know, it’s okay!”

“Is it, though?”

“We’re talking now, I think it turned out okay. But... but...”

Nemona sighed. She felt an instinctive anxiety that she was telling Arven way too much and she should stop, but it seemed far too late to stop now. He’d already seen her fall apart, he should know why too. Especially when he’d revealed so much to her today.

“... I dunno, it all just left me wondering... If... if a total stranger who just moved here can hate me that much, what hope do I have at... at ever...”

Nope, couldn’t keep it together long enough to finish her sentence. She covered her face as her jaw quivered. The audible sniffle probably told Arven what he needed to know.

“So uh... you don’t have life handed to you on a platter like people might assume either, eh?”

Nemona rapidly shook her head no without uncovering it. “N-no. My family’s basically never home either. Today’s the first time I’ve seen them in ages. They kinda... leave me to fend for myself out here. Not that I don’t like the freedom sometimes, but... I dunno.”

“Fend for yourself, huh...” he repeated quietly, looking down at the ground.

Nemona removed her braced arm from her face and rested it in her other palm. “Well, I mean, not literally -- housekeepers come by here and there -- but they know I don’t really like being taken care of like that.”

“Hmph. Well, still no substitute for family, I s’pose.”

“And then when I get out of there and back to school where I belong, it feels like a lotta kids are jealous of me, and everyone I battle or even talk to about Pokemon just gets mad. I wanna have fun with ‘em, maybe even help ‘em get stronger, but they’re all sour grapes about it. Like I’m making fun of them by just... being here, and they’ve gotta fight back.”

Arven scratched the back of his neck some more and looked away. Nemona also averted her gaze, toward her Tauros.

“... Some days, it feels like all I’ve got is my Pokemon.” she continued as she pet the loyal bull. “Everybody thinks ‘cause I’m a Champion and have a rich family and decent grades and stuff, I’m, just... born different. Like I can do things they never could. Like I’m gifted and special, or cheating, when...”

Nemona showed Arven the red glove on her right hand. He took a step back defensively, but then took a closer look at it as she flexed her fingers.

“...When I have to wear this brace just to be able to throw a Poke Ball even halfway right or get through a day of homework without pain, and I can barely make it up the stairs to school without help, and... everyone looks at me like I’m an alien or a science experiment, or like Pokemon battles are an annoying niche interest if I’m the one talking about them...”

Nemona crossed her arms and looked out at the ocean. When she glanced back at Arven, there was a strange mix of emotions on his face. Mostly like he was sad and unsure what to do, like Clavell was, but there was something else going on there too that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Well, no... that's not fair, the new teachers are fine, and little kids like me... and-- S-sorry, sorry, I’m totally unloading on you, I’m sorry, you’ve got it worse. I’m okay, really...” she quickly apologized, rattling her head and turning away again.

“No you’re not.” Arven said firmly.

“Yes I am sorry, you--” Nemona started, falling into her old habits around Arven.

He raised his hands. “Nonono, shush, I mean, you’re not okay.”

“Don’t shush-- Y-yeah, and what about it, huh?”

“And that’s rough, but... pretending you don’t need help isn’t... i-isn’t the way to make it better, is it?”

“Oh.” she responded, deflating. “...Yeah, I guess it really hasn’t been. I just... don’t wanna look needy.”

An awkward pause passed. Both of the teens’ eyes searched the road for nothing in particular as Nemona thought about what Arven said.

“... W-well, I’m as shocked as you are that I ended up being the person you told all this to. And spice adversa, I guess.” he acknowledged as he combed a hand through his fluffy hair.

“... Vice versa?” She quietly corrected.

“Ghk-- Shush, you... nerd.”

Nemona snorted and smiled a bit. “Just making sure you have it right next time.”

“Sure. Anyway... it sounds like you could really use someone in your corner. I could too, I suppose. Maybe we have enough in common to make something work.”

“You... wanna be friends?” Nemona guessed as her face began to light up back to the brightness it belonged at, like the sun rising over the horizon.

“... Yeah. I’ll give it another shot.” Once again, Arven offered her his hand, this time to shake on it, though he was looking away like it was a little embarrassing for him.

Nemona shook his hand eagerly. Somehow, falling apart in front of someone she thought hated her just led to him putting her back together instead of kicking the pieces around. Maybe this morning wouldn’t be so bad. Best not to dwell on how long ago they could’ve been friends if they’d just been a little more open, though...

“Yeah! Sounds good to me, amigo! We should get to school soon, though. Uh... what’re we gonna do with Miraidon?”

“Woorgh?”

“Ugh, right, where are we going to keep that brute now? We can’t put it in a Ball because it’s already registered to my dad, and I’d rather not leave it unsupervised...”

“Oh wait, hold on! I found a Poke Ball in the sand next to this fella.” Nemona remembered, and went to dig through her satchel for it. Being in a different pocket than the others made it stand out. “You never know, this could be it.”

“Agias!”

“Well, try it and see, I suppose...”

Nemona attempted to recall Miraidon into the Poke Ball, and sure enough, it succeeded. Whatever this thing was, it was in her hand now... even if it was apparently not in any shape to be used yet.

“Well I’ll be a Mankey’s uncle, that solves that problem! Normally I’d tell you not to go parading it around Paldea, but actually, now that I think about it... I’m honestly all for doing anything that would make my old man steamed, so go ahead. I have to admit Miraidon was pretty clever bringing its own Ball along like that, though. Hmmm... unless Dad sent it back here on purpose for some reason? If it’s supposed to be his messenger, I don’t know what the message is, or how an email wouldn’t have been easier. I don’t suppose there were any sticky notes under its, uh, saddle or anything, were there?”

“Don’t think so. Um... you think something bad happened to the professor?”

“... It’s possible. Last time I went-- Uh, last time I heard it was a really dangerous place. Really earned that restricted access.”

“Dangerous? Like, full of super-strong Pokemon? I could probably handle those!”

Arven rolled his eyes. “... Well, yeah, but also the thousand foot drops, and I doubt all the radiation from those crystal things has been healthy for Dad’s brain in the long term... Anyway, right, school. I was just gonna walk, maybe train up this Skwovet I caught earlier, but now I’m pretty behind schedule. Err, uhh, not that this little chat wasn’t worth it, ‘course.”

“You wanna ride on my Cyclizar?” Nemona offered eagerly. “I think it’s strong enough for two. Can't go skipping class if I bring you there myself!”

Arven pinched his brow like this was the hardest decision of his life. “...Fine.”

“Heh heh! Alright! Get on and let’s vamos!”

And with that, the ornery outdoorsman clung tightly to Nemona’s back as they zipped through the rest of Poco Path, the nearby village of Los Platos, and the hills beyond on her galloping Cyclizar. The entrance gates to Mesagoza were soon just a few minutes away despite the interruptions.

Nemona hadn’t even considered that Arven would have to do such an overly familiar thing when she brought up the idea to hitch a ride, but he eventually gave up his pride after falling off for trying to be hands-off. She had to admit -- at least to herself -- that a hug from a peer felt pretty nice even if it was for purely practical reasons.

“Soooo, that Skwovet you mentioned! Are you starting over with a new Pokemon too, then? Or did you just finally decide to start training something besides that Mabosstiff?” she asked loudly enough to be heard while they were moving.

“Mmm. Uh. You remember him, huh?”

“Of course! You two seemed as inseparable as it gets -- a real inspiration for how close a Trainer and Pokemon can be!”

Arven took a deep breath for some reason. “...Thanks. Yeah, I guess I am... s-starting over. Sorta. I’ll put Mabosstiff back on my team when everyone else, uh, catches up to him, ‘course...”

“Hey, alright! Maybe we can get some battles in with your Skwovet and my Sprigatito then! You ‘n’ me could even do that idea I had with...” No, no need to say that kid’s name anymore. Forget him. “...Uh, that idea to start new teams and do the Gyms over and stuff!” Calm down, don’t ask for too much. “......If you want. No pressure.”

“Yeah, maybe I could use the help.”

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

🧚‍♀️ Anon

To be honest I’m a little unsure for a Part 1 for Sins of the Father (I really love that title though)

So I’m completely fine and curious about what you would write for it (I currently have no ideas at the moment for SotF but I might get some later, I might need to watch the newer Scream Movies)

Here are a few ideas I have though in general, I’d like to hear what you think

Mostly I can see Darling use her mother’s last name to hide being related to Kira

Does Darling move back to Morioh?

What if the shock of the murders results in a Horror Movie being put in production (Maybe it’s called ‘Morioh Massacre’ or something) and a bunch of rumors spread about it being based on a True Story about Morioh’s infamous Serial Killer

I definitely like the parallel with Kira, Darling just wants to have a normal life (But unlike her father she doesn’t have his murderous impulses, but maybe she did inherit his rage whenever she feels like she can’t get away from his legacy) only someone in Morioh is after her, calling her, cryptic messages and gruesome murders whenever she goes

Maybe this is how her Stand finally manifests (Her Stand has always been apart of her life when Kira got it, but either she’s never been strong enough to fully manifest it or she new about its existence but never could grasp it’s full potential and abilities until her life was threatened and thrown into turmoil)

Darling uses her Horror Movie trivial, sarcasm and dry humor as a coping mechanism (In reality she’s angry and tired, but she doesn’t want to be the helpless victim, especially since she knows they’re always the first to die)

Maybe Josuke knew Darling? But she was known as that quiet nerdy girl? (His mom and her mom knew each other, before her disappearance) Maybe Josuke and Darling we’re friends but grew apart when she had to move away because of the bullying?

I wasn’t very sure with this and I just wrote a few ideas (My mind kinda went ham)

Also that fanart you drew was very cute I liked it a lot

Ok so I have a few idea, still want to keep things cryptic for now.

Reader was in her last year of middle school when the truth of yoshikage Kira came out and due to her last name this led to a lot of negative attention. Thus her grandparents moved and had her last name changed to her mothers.

I'm thinking that darling knows who Josuke was as he was a year above them. Probably though word of mouth as well as seeing him after leaving class but they never knew eachother personally. Perhaps Josuke knows her through association due this grandfather being friends with her grandparents, he probably saw a couple of photos that his mother had been shown. Perhaps even a slight push to befriend her but didn't do so.

I'm thinking that After graduation Josuke may have taken a gap year to America to see his dad and such before going to university and ending up in the same course not entirely sure on the subject yet.

The horror movie idea is really interesting. Perhaps it's brought up by a work colleague. They're really excited and start going on about it and darling is saying some stuff that is out of character from what they know. Leading to them asking why they aren't interested.

"Oh I just think it's a bit exploitive" she'd say.

"But you really like chainsaw massacre and that's kinda based off of Ed Gein" they'd point out. (It was the only example I could come up rn with that wasn't an out right exploitation film)

Perhaps it's brought up the case again as well and some of former students of the middle school bring up that there was a girl there related to him. She might even be confronted by a relative of one of the victims.

Putting her really on edge and Josuke might just walk in on a situation without context and immediately rush in to help. And probably gets some clues that she's being stalked or harassed.

Her stand probably developed after a particular incident back in marioh cho before leaving, she'd had hit her breaking point and retaliated against one if the other student. Her first outburst. After she left she started to receive texts and most likely followed by subsequent injuries. Act 2 probably developed a few years later after another incident. Perhaps her stand was trying to get revenge on someone on her behalf. (Sometimes it targets particular people who threaten darling, other times it chooses random victims)

Thanks for liking the design I came up with, currently sharing my laptop with my partner so I can't use it as often. If I could I would have done some photo bashing to get a idea for act 3s Appearance.

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Captive to a Shelby-Martha 5

(Dark themes and mind games, don't interact if under 18)

Martha checks the house and formulates a plan to escape.

____________________________________________

Breakfasts and Plots _______________________________________________

“Morning love, aww, you did all this for me.” Strong arms snaked around Martha expanding waist as he gently pinned her to the counter.

John gently brushed her golden blonde hair off her neck and planted several sloppy kisses on her neck.

She shivered under his touch which seemed to egg him on more.

“Your breakfast is getting cold.” She was fighting everything within her not to shrug him off. She was still buzzing with anger over the phone call last night.

She hadn’t slept at all, spending all night pacing once he’d fallen asleep.

She had tried to make a phone call but the line was completely silent. She bet that if the phone rang now, he’d be able to answer it. It would suddenly start working.

She needed to get out of here. The need wasn’t only clawing at her anxiety but her mental state as well. She was going to go crazy, yellow wallpaper crazy.

She’d always hated that story, but now she understood it. Now she had a reason to hate it.

She tried last night to escape. The doors seemed to be locked from the outside because no matter how many times she tried different combos, the doors refused to open.

The windows seemed sealed shut as well. She tried to pry them open with a butter knife and even looked for nails but nothing could be done. She was trapped inside.

“You know, you're pregnant with my baby Martha, you can reciprocate.” His deep voice rumbled near her ear as his nose bumped her face and traced up to kiss her temple. His hands wandered around her abdomen slowly going upwards towards her breast.

She bit her lip and tried not to cry. She wanted to scream and lash out, but she’d seen his sadistic side last night even before she’d mentioned her father.

He enjoyed upsetting her.

“John, I don't feel well.” Her sudden abruptness caused the man to pull back, his expression looking as if she’d slapped his hand for getting into a cookie jar before dinner.

“The baby kept me up all night, I’m exhausted.” The tears formed in her eyes and her throat ached. It was all true, she was exhausted. She had no idea why women went through pregnancy..let alone childbirth.

“Sorry baby.” His warm strong hands rubbed her stomach. Such an intimate act would be enjoyable if she liked him.

“So, what did you make me?” He kissed her head and sauntered over to the table grinning at the spread before him.

She sighed in relief that he’d walked away from her.

She’d really needed to do something so she’d stayed busy, eggs, ham and homemade bread adorned the table. She’d even made homemade orange juice. He sat down and greedily devoured her offering. He’d asked her to join him but she’d shaken her head no and stretched her back.

She’d already eaten as she cooked.

“Is your aunt coming by today? We're getting low on groceries.” She tried to ask nonchalantly knowing how quick he was to catch onto things.

“Make a list Martha, I’ll have Polly pick it up.” He said non committal to her actual request, which was leaving the house. He kept chewing, his eyes on his paper. She could feel the tension growing in the room though, he wasn’t paying attention to the letters on the page.

“I was kinda hoping for some fresh air.” She watched his eyes flick up instantly, his blue eyes settling on her, weary of her next sentence.

“Open a window,” He said dismissively. His toast was inches from his lips, yet he made no move to eat. He was listening intently to her.

“I tried, I burned some toast earlier, but couldn't get this one open.” She pointed to the window above the sink. She gave him a little smile. She was hoping it came across as charming and weak. Like she was just a sweet little wife that needed her man to do the heavy lifting. He seemed like the type to find those girls attractive.

To sell her pitch she sheepishly grinned and picked up a plate in the sink. The blackened charred remains of bread are still visible.

“Why didn’t you open up the one in the living room?” He smiled at her. He wasn’t buying it. She could feel the frustration and anger building within. Why did he always have a way to shut her down quickly and efficiently?

“Because we have a hallway and the breeze wouldn’t have gotten far enough to get the smell out.” Her answer seemed to pacify him and she was impressed by her quickness. God would forgive her for lying. He had to if he allowed this situation, right?

“I’ll call.” He seemed surprised when she rushed him and kissed his cheek. He grinned at her. Two could play this game.

[archandshri]

The vision for an illustration breakdown from Shri - 27/04/2024

Hey Archie and everyone!

It's lovely to hear you taking control over your health and not letting anyone/society's expectations of a working/hustle culture control your life - leading to burnout. It really does feel like directly fighting against the capitalistic view when we value fun and rest above work and their view of 'success'

I also couldn't agree more with you - fairs are such a magical place, I've definitely got the best compliments and feedback from them, it always reminded me of the importance art has on people sometimes; always leaving me a bit dazed.

As promised my slightly late blog post is here. (It didn't allow me to edit my original post so)

I mentioned I just did a really big hand-in yesterday with Third Bear Press, so I don't want to go to ham on this post.

I did think about talking about my recent hand in but it's still too soon (I've been staring at those pages for two weeks straight and many weeks before that)

But if you want to have a cheeky look at it go check out the Kickstarter with Third Bear Press!

link: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/thirdbearpress/boxes-2

Anyway actually getting into the blog, I wanted to talk about something I've been pondering recently.

Archie and I were talking a while ago about how they're a bit frustrated with the difference between their vision for an illustration and their skill set - when your skill set doesn't match your creative vision.

And I indeed, I had some thoughts about it.

(also this is not supposed to be an @ at you Archie, I just went on a really long thought tangent).

My first thought was "I used to feel that all the time" Then I was like "Wow I haven't felt that for a long time" Then I thought "Wow that kinda sounds a bit fullhead?!"

But then I was like "Hold up, back up. I don't think it has to do completely with the skillset, it also has to do with the visions/expectations itself?" because I can't remember the last time I had that experience of having that illustration idea the same way I did a few years ago.

They're different, so it got me thinking why?

Breaking down my thoughts

Also, slight disclaimer: I did no research whatsoever for this so it's literally just my thoughts. Anyways, enjoy!

The vision/idea of an illustration

I don't have the same vision for an illustration anymore as I used to. Before I used to start illustrations/projects with a distinct image in mind, and then draw from there.

Nowadays I think of the idea/image and then clarify it with the message/thing I'm trying to convey through the image. Having this clarification on what you are trying to say is so helpful when hitting issues because you can always refuse back to that as a touchstone.

Without it shit hits the fan then it's harder to take that step back and reevaluate the image.

The minds-eye and the vision/idea

So this section of pondering reminded me a lot of the book I read What We See When We Read by Peter Mendelsund (very good book with a lot of nice pictures). This book discusses what we see when we read (hence the title), one of the main points of the book is what our brain actually images/pictures when reading text.

Here is an extract because it explains it better:

These readers contend that the success of a work of fiction hinges on the putative authenticity of the characters. Some readers go further and suggest that the only way they can enjoy a novel is if the main characters are easily visible: "Can you picture, in your mind, what Anna Karenina looks like?" I ask. "Yes," they say, "as if she were standing here in front of me." "What does her nose look like?" "I hadn't thought it out; but now that I think of it, she would be the kind of person who would have a nose like .. "But wait-how did you picture her before I asked? Noseless?" "Well..." "Does she have a heavy brow? Bangs? Where does she hold her weight? Does she slouch? Does she have laugh lines?" (Only a very tedious writer would tell you this much About a character)

pg 24 of What We See When We Read by Peter Mendelsund

This strangeness of the brain of feeling/believing we can see a character in your mind's eye in full clarity - but at the same time, not actually seeing any details?

This is what I think also happens when we have an illustration vision/idea for a piece of artwork, being able to 'see it' but at the same time not.

This then can cause a lot of issues in the fulfilment of this vision for an illustration, because how can you ever go to the standard of your idea if you don't even know what it is exactly your idea is?

The skillset

This I wanted to touch on because although there is more to it then a skillset, skillset does have a play in this - but maybe not in the way you expect it. Although yes if your skillset is better it's easier to meet these expectations for an illustration, I also believe it has a lot do to with processes and how to handle issues in illustration pieces.

So before university, my process for illustration was very simple.

idea for illustration

Sketch out illustration

Line the sketch

Colour the illustration

Finished

And if at any point in this process, the illustration won't working or I run into an issue - I kinda just gave up on it?

My process now:

Idea on illustration (along with what I'm trying to convey through it)

Research (sometimes, depending on the project)

Thumbnails

Initial sketch

Fleshed out sketch

Line

Colour

Texture

Finished

And at any point I run into an issue I solve it, for example, if the hand passion is wrong and just resketch it until I find one that's good.

Obviously, these a big elements of being skilled enough to be able to identify how something is wrong and how to fix it - so there is a sense of drawing mileage by being able to identify those things.

Anyways those our my thought on it - let me know if you guys have any thoughts/ideas on it too!

Thanks for reading my rambling thoughts

Hope everyone has a lovely dinner (I had a really nice roasted cauliflower with other picky bits)

All the good vibes

Shri

[uninformedartist]

I kinda get what story Viv was trying to tell in S1E8. Loona meeting Tex' girlfriend and she is wayyyy better than her in pretty much every category imaginable. She realizing she never had a chance to begin with. This is a relatable cute story idea on its own. But his girlfriend being a literal ruler of hell is just too much imo. It doesn't make sense from a character perspective and a worldbuilding perspective. It's just too much for a character. Bee rules one ring in hell, an representation of one of the deadly sins since the ancient times but she is also this normal girl who dates Tex and is a total party girl/pop star. It feels like 2 characters/ concepts in one. It's a mess and lacks a clear direction. It also doesn't look like an animal trainer (like Viv says she is supposed to) she looks like an extreme oc splarkle dog who is a hell to animate. Which is fine for a love rival imo. But this sparkle oc being literal royalty is a huge letdown.

I think the only way Bee's current design would work is if she weren't a princess of hell herself but the rebelious daughter of the queen of gluttony, who is a bee and did have an affair with a hellhound or whatever. It would explain why she is half hellhound half bee. It would explain why she can date Vortex without people caring too much since she has the benefits of the upper class but not the responsibilities. But that's just an idea i had

Completely agree anon, and you are not the 1st person to feel this way. I have seen many re designs of her that interpreted Bee being the daughter of Cerberus and Beelzebub. It makes sense since in Dante's infreno Cerberus exists and lives in the gluttony ring so it would be possible for Cerberus and Beelzebub to get together and have Bee, sparkle dog/bee hybrid solved. There is so many interpretations and texts on biblical lore Viv really could've went ham and selected whatever suited her world best.

Also the thing that is really glaring with Tex and Bee's relationship relationship is the power dynamic. Bee in Viv's version is the OG Beelzebub, not an offspring of Beelzebub the OG. It like you said causes it to not make sense from a character perspective nor a world building perspective. This ancient immortal being is with a the lowest class of hell and hell hound, has the personality of a young adult party girl it just doest make sense. Also this scene

Where Loona glances at Tex. Bee is in her true form but Tex here looks scared, intimidated and can't help Loona in this situation. This just solidified to me their power imbalance. They should've made Bee the daughter of Cerberus and Beelzebub, this makes her design make sense/world building too. Secondly keep her rebellious party girl personality, she's a rebellious young adult of 2 ancient beings. It can show she's rebellious going against the status quo by dating Tex after all her mother did too by having a child with Cerberus so why can't she. Shows conflict withoutin Bee's self, being a hybrid demon she's trying to find herself and is going through a rebellious phase. And last write of the scene above with Tex being scared of her, show him standing with Bee because this scene goes about Loona not checking up with Blitz, Bee got angry at what Loona said to her and how Loona is so nonchalant with Blitz's safety. Then after have Tex still stand with her but correcting her on how she could've handled the situation better by not getting so angry and going into her true form. Shows a balance in their relationship, Tex standing by her but also not afraid to correct her on things she does wrong and Bee accepting the critique Tex gives her.

Sorry its a bit rambling, ty for the ask anon and sorry for replying so late.

[peanutbutterandbananasandwichs]

have you ever given samjess headcanons before? 🥺👉👈

hiiiii I love making myself sad about Sam and Jess so here we go:

Sam doesn't like to make a big deal out of his birthday and Jess never pushes him to. On Jess' birthday, she never receives one big gift from Sam, its always a gift bag filled with tiny, carefully wrapped presents that Sam bought throughout the year, little things that they passed in a shop window and Jess smiled at, or things that just made him think of her.

If Sam and Jess had got married Sam would have taken her last name. It would have felt like a way to truly leave hunting behind.

Mentioned this in another headcanon ask but Sam and Jess read The Lord of the Rings together, they would alternate reading a chapter each out loud. Jess went full ham with the voices. The other part to that not in that ask is that Jess had a really lovely illustrated complete copy of LoTR that got destroyed in the fire, except a tiny fragment of an illustration of Gadreel, which Sam takes and keeps in his wallet.

This is kinda a bonus Sam/Brady headcanon but it involves Jess so it goes here. Knowing that Brady's body was used to kill Jess and that (knowing demons) he was probably awake when the demon did it haunts Sam. Sometimes he wakes up sobbing in the middle of the night just thinking about how frightened both of them must have been.

Sam romantically loves other people after Jess, he loved Amelia, he loved blurry spouse. But he never stops loving her.

They had talked about having kids, but neither of them were sure they wanted them. They weren't in any rush to decide. Jess does joke that if they did have kids they would be the tallest kids in the world.

They did however want at least two dogs.

Jess was always trying to persuade Sam to let her paint a portrait of him, but he felt too awkward about it. He regrets not saying yes.

Jess was a terrible cook, but a great baker.

This

[mittysins]

omg i'd love to hear more about hamish! just like... info dump pls hehe :)c

GAH OKAY so I don't know how far back you want me to start. Because if you want to start from the VERY beginning we gotta go back to when he was in 6th grade. Which is a LOT of plot to fill in. And some of it is also kind of heavy and triggering (themes of transphobia, sh, things that are character relevant that I don't want to dwell too heavily on). If we want the abridged version,

Hamish is an absolute nerd and has been from the start. Loves retro games and animation, found the 4e Players Handbook in his local library when he was 6 and was obsessed ever since (Much to the pleasure of his aunt Mariah). You coulda picked him out as a gnc kid from a mile away, never really did the girl thing (much to the dismay of his parents). Because he was nerdy and eccentric and didn't really know how to talk to people he was picked on from an early age, by both his peers and his parents. He always kept his chin up, confidently walking through the halls like he didn’t give a shit what people said (He did).He was the type to sit alone until 6th grade, when he TRIED but was quickly interrupted by a girl rocking up with her DS shamelessly on full volume and offering her hard boiled eggs. He had forgotten his own lunch, so it's not like he was about to turn it down. They spend the lunch period together, trying to figure out the Mario level she was stuck on. From then on she always met him at that table, sure to pack extra hard boiled eggs to share with him. It took him like two months to admit that he never learned her name and had been calling her Eggs in his head the whole time. She decided she liked it.

From there Ham and Eggs keep pickin up friends. First there's Clementine, who earned his name when he chucked one full force at a class douchebag during theater rehearsal. He got suspended. He's kinda the Humble Rich Kid, the one with the super nice parents and the super nice house that always funds the PTA meetings. This dude is aggressively theater kid. Clementine and Basil come in a set. Nothing special there, Basil is literally just her name. Her family owns an art supply store, and if she’s working she’s usually on sales floor with her big brother Jonah. She and Eggs are the ones who have the idea to give everyone a Polaroid camera to document Ham’s pregnancy.

Then there’s Santiago, who they first met nervously shifting around as the GSA went around the circle introducing themselves in 8th grade. They’d all been there, so Santi was very quickly adopted by the rest of the group. He’d always been antisocial, so this was his first friend group. When he finally came out of his shell it was like everything fell into place and they were complete.

Until Junior year. And suddenly Santiago was gone. Just up and left with his family, seemed like. And not a word from him. It kind of fucked things up for a while and it took two or three months of taking time on their own to process. Ham’s mental health was at an ATL, and he felt guilty for feeling so bitter about it. Then he had the big blowout with his parents, a screaming match he wishes he could forget. An argument that ended with his mother crying with rage and his father telling him “I don’t care where you go, you can’t be here anymore.” That was all he needed to decide to walk an hour in the February cold to where his aunt Mariah lived. She’s only ten years older than him, so they grew up more like cousins than aunt and nephew. She’d give him the shirt off her back.

She’d call it a custody battle, but it’s not like Mariah had to fight. From then on, Hamish went no contact and instead lived with Mariah and worked at Wyvern’s Locket.

After a while everyone got together for the first time, and while it wasn’t the same again without Santi they managed to fall back into some sense of normalcy. And it was normal for a few years, until Hamish needed to ask Mariah to pick him up from his doctor’s appointment with referrals for prenatal care and a panic attack. The conversation with his friends was emotional. They were thrilled to learn that Hamish was seven weeks pregnant and not like. Dying. But it was still a lot and by the end of it everyone was just glad he was okay and ready to take it one step at a time together.

Three weeks after that Hamish and Santiago spot each other from across the bus stops.

[one-winged-dreams]

ALL EVEN NUMBERS FOR AZUL GOOOOO

@sosoftandsweet

GAHHHHH I'M ABOUT TO GO HAM ON THIS LMAO

Was your FO immediately receptive of your advances, or visa versa, or was that something that came with time?

Azul was ambivalent based on his judge of Sol's character. He was damaged goods, so was he even worth interacting with? Should he try to kill him? But he's also fucking insane, and that's kinda fun. Guess I'll just let him hang around if he wants, idfk... And then proceeded to get attached to the point of RAGING jealousy if anyone else fucked with Sol. HE'S the only one allowed to fuck with him dontchaknow. Now he's just super fun to watch and be around, and he's just so damn CUTE, AUUUGH.

No couple is going to agree 100% of the time. What is the main source of any disagreement between you? Is it the same topic for all parties, or do you have different sticking points? Has this ever caused a row?

Sol would never in a million years disagree with Azul, but the shards of rage do flare up from time to time and he's just like "FightmefightmefightmefightMEFIGHTME." but like... In a weird affectionate sort of way? While still being angry? Like, I'M SO ANGRY YOU AREN'T KNOCKING ME TO THE FLOOR RIGHT NOW. And Azul isn't ALWAYS receptive, so Sol would aggressively follow him around, fuming and bonking his head against him askjgh. And either Azul would end up finding it cute, or he'd get angry too and be like "FINE, LET'S GO THROW DOWN, GOD."

Your FO is having an awful day and wants to throw it all in and just give up. It is your job to bring them around and help them believe in themselves again. How do you do it?

Azul absolutely does not give up on anything ever, but he does get moody. Especially back when the Restrictors were a thing. Sol proceeds to make a nuisance of himself asking Azul if there's ANYYYTHING he can do. Anything at all. Please ask me to do something for you. If Azul is feeling up to it, they request either a sparring session or a mission together. Nothing more cathartic than beating people up, even if it's each other.

Last time we asked how quickly your FO came to trust you. This time we want to know: How quickly did you come to trust your FO? Was it an instant thing, or did they have to really work to get through your barriers so you could open yourself up to them completely?

I still am mulling over the timelines, but I want to say Sol "joined" Deepground before Azul, he was just kind of on standby. He was absolutely considered one of the colored Tsviets, the Restrictors just didn't like using him because he was so broken. When Azul came along and he got to interact with him for the first time, the Restrictors kind of had them go at each other for funzies, let's test out the new beast on the scrap project zero suit style. And then Azul ABSOLUTELY managed to bust his lights out. He was quite the scrappy boy, though (no pun intended), and shifted into one of his rage shards, launched himself at Azul, and got knocked back down again. And then got up again. And he got knocked down. And he got up again. Now that song is gonna be stuck in my head. Anyway, he was burning so much mako on top of the mako that was building that he evened out and just collapsed, got laughed at, by Azul, and shard shifted again, but this time with heart eyes. And he was obsessed with him from then on out.

Do you or your FO have any skeletons in the closet? Have they been revealed yet, and if so, what was the reaction of the person learning about the unexpected past events? If not, do you think they will ever be revealed?

They are both literal killing machines made by morally reprehensible experiments. I think the transparency is there based on -gestures vaguely- everything. However, if they were to find each other's files, I think it would go like this.

Sol would obsessively pore over every detail, the fact that Azul was kidnapped by Shinra, killed his kidnappers, and then decided "Wait, I want in on this action" and went BACK to Shinra to volunteer himself would drive him fucking nuts. And the fact that he killed all the other behemoth experiments (minus you lmao) would have his head spinning with adoration. Like, wow, Azul is so strong, only someone so strong could do what he did, I love him I love him I love him I lo-

Azul would find it HILARIOUS that Sol had volunteered himself to a project without knowing the finer details of it. The fact that he basically got trapped into brutal experimentation, the reports of his gradual descent until the sudden absolute sundering of his mind turning him into an aberrant lunatic that killed the ones that had done it to him, and the decision to totally scrap him by handing him off to Deepground because he was too much trouble and not nearly useful enough? What a guy, just an absolute riot. It would probably make him TWICE as fond of him.

[randomidiocyncrazies]

N P T Y!

thanks for the ask! i kinda went ham on the AU question lol

N - Name three things you wish you saw more of in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

oof this is hard! the thing is. i'm an extremely fickle mistress, so i don't really have a 'main' fandom? also i think most of what i want from fandom is extremely generic (more gen fic, more femslash, more AUs with interesting worldbuilding, more rarepairs etc etc) and most of my specific comments are aimed more at the source material than at the fandom

(that said, if anyone writes political intrigue and/or the mundane stuff of nation building about the Kree/Skrull Alliance please please please link! there's so much story potential there..............)

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

okay so i LOVE most AUs, but my favorite are well-done roleswaps (by which i mean the characters' core personalities are intact, it's just that their circumstances have changed). I mean... i still lowkey think about the Persona 4 adult investigation team AU a friend and I talked about almost 10 years ago lol

(oh! speaking of the Persona franchise, i've always kind of wondered what would happen if P4 protag moved to Sumaru City after P4 and gets Jun Kashihara from Persona 2 as his homeroom teacher, and one way or another accidentally triggers a way for Nyarlathotep to return (most likely with P4 protag coming into contact with Tatsuya by chance through Jun)—after all, the theme of Persona 4 is to lift the fog of deceit, but not all truths should be remembered... though I guess this isn't really AU since it could theoretically happen as long as you handwave the mechanics about how personas/Nyarly and Philemon work)

my other pet AU is the Appmon Utena AU because narratives about roles and agency fascinate me! (appmon and utena endgame spoilers in linked posts)

as for something that I'm mostly making up right now........... uhhhh Loveless AU for Oda and Aoki from 2.43 Seiin High School Men's Volleyball Team, but only about the concept of Fighter-Sacrifice pairs and not... everything else (I have not read Loveless but it's got A Reputation)—mostly because i think it'd be so interesting if their pair name is "Selfless", seeing as Oda tends to think of himself as selfish in the novel, while Aoki's speech about "no need to thank me, I'm doing this because of ulterior motives" and his utter devotion to Oda's cause makes me kiiinda feral. (and from what little i understand about the general power dynamics of Fighters and Sacrifices, i think it makes sense for Oda to be the Sacrifice and Aoki the Fighter? idk)

i haven't thought of why they're marked, since they're meant to be Just Some Guys in 2.43 (i.e. not one of the star players on the team)

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

i'm not willing to die on this hill, but i have this entire elaborate headcanon about Euanthe from Counter/WEIGHT having a dead fiance and them being essentially an anti-stratus due to the programming language disconnect between the Divines and the Apostolisian mechs. both are just something i pulled completely out of my ass tho (note: Twilight Mirage is the last sci-fi season from friends at the table that i've completed)

as for something i'm slightly more willing to die defending: Yukiko and Chie from Persona 4 lived on takeout for like 4 months after they got their own place, before grudgingly learning how to cook at the Inaba community center (also Yosuke heckles them about it and sends shitty pics of his humble homemade dishes at ridiculous hours to taunt them about it—at least, that's how they interpret his gesture

and i mean. they aren't entirely wrong about that.)

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?

oh boy most popular media is like that for me... i feel like ORV is one of these even though i did read some of it? (and i mean. i do plan on reading past ch 75 of ORV one of these days.) i've heard stuff about SVSSS (about a rarepair/side character) and the Owl House seems interesting from the general impression i get from my dash

I guess i also. learned about SPN on tumblr (and know more than I want to, even though in the grand scheme of things it's not much at all)

[ask prompts here!]