#i know nobody asked me but this is what rotates in my brain

[missygoesmeow]

paintless cardinal:

paintless papa:

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[angelkiyo]

modern au high school hcs for my fav haikyuu boys based on my high school experiences + romance hcs <3

[miya osamu, sakusa kiyoomi, oikawa torū, iwaizumi haijime]

a/n- part one + my asks are open bc i do not know what to write but im down for mostly anything tbh so ASK AWAY PLS

miya osamu

he has a similar gpa to his brother [gpa at a 2.5 😔]

is in culinary club and the president

since atsumu is a drake glazer, osamu makes sure to bring up kendrick everytime he hears a drake song

he had a field day when “not like us” mv dropped

even though his brother and him are opposites in a way, that hasn’t stopped osamu from being submitted on ‘inarizaki.bops’

he was most likely talking to a teacher

private insta with 300 followers

doesn’t give a fuck abt p.e and would be enjoying basketball if they weren’t able to play volleyball

osamu would probably also have a very casual way of dressing — stussy and abrocrombie fiend

steals from his brother’s nike collection while owning several pairs adidas gazelles and new balances himself

as for with his s/o, he would be more of a soft launch guy and would post stories of you two holding hands or the two of you in a mirror pic

he would def be holding your hand in the halls and having his arm around you

imagine peter k lara jean moment

your friends would find him to be a green flag

the two of you would use study hall to not study at all but use his little crock pot thing he got from tiktok shop and make food

would try to be nara smith one day and fail miserably

very much would wear ‘aqua de gio’ bc i said so (n would find atsumu’s cologne to be too strong)

dates would include: cooking at his place and eating your masterpieces while watching movies (esp spider-man bc he seems the type)

artists he would listen to: kendrick lamar, joey bada$$, childish gambino, doja cat

sakusa kiyoomi

annoyingly smart (3.6 gpa) and would probably get a 4/5 avg on his ap tests

if he wasn’t on volleyball, he seems the type to be in academic decathlon or science olympiad

would be keeping to himself but if he were to play a sport, it would be smt like lacrosse or tennis

he’s rich. like RICH RICH. (he goes to itachiyama with three siblings or smt)

so he’d wear like club monaco, j. crew, or like ralph lauren

would have a specific rotation of shoes that would be asics or new balance in white

insta would be like 700 followers and 32 following

for him and his s/o, he’d be like osamu and would be very much soft launch you

even though he hates crowds, he would very much like to go out with you shopping (in a shopping center that has nobody/barely anyone)

kiyoomi may be presenting himself as a cold and calculating and he can be, but he’s a soft to ppl he’s close with

him and komori would use brain rot language ironically (I just see that lemme elaborate) after komori would use brain rot language unironically

he would use it with you once “by accident”

he kept hearing komori say it and said it subconsciously

and then never again after the second hand embarrassment he got

“on skibidi…?”

you still bring it up to this day (he blames komori)

dates would include movie nights and making pillow forts

artists he would listen to: sza, 21 savage, kanye west, playboi carti

oikawa torū

would be a note taking fiend and be an honors/ap student with a 3.4

he would be on a ‘bop’ page for volleyball in general

great king? nah great bop

instead of being a wyll warrior, he’d be one of the mfks on insta that would slide up with a 😍 then ghost you after dm-ing

another dior sauvage user and on some days, versace eros…

caught up in the central cee madz drama

also obsessed with watching nara smith (me too)

he’s team ice spice

would be very persistent in taking 0.5s

though because of this, he purposely fluffs up his bangs and hair for him to not fall victim to 0.5s

if he didn’t play volleyball, he would play badminton/tennis

would be a SLUTTTT for pinterest clean boy fits

very clean boy core with his lululemon mens shit and would be shopping at alo + urban outfitters

also ralph lauren teddy bear sweaters n golden gooses

his insta user would be smt like “theyenvy_.toruuu” or basic like his full name and he would have more than 3k followers

THOUGH HE WOULD BE MAKING THOSE SHARED POSTS W YOU.

his finsta would be very full of you and spams of volleyball

nle choppa slut me out 2 glazer

dates would include: self care day at either one of your places while watching baddies or real housewives +shopping

artists he would listen to: laufey, cigarettes after sex, olivia rodrigo, megan thee stallion, nle choppa

iwaizumi hajime

he went to uci so he has his shit tgt (nhs and 3.9 type shit w aps)

though, he would definitely be apart of debate club and a lacrosse person if he didn’t do volleyball

shops at psycho bunny or hollister. the occasional lululemon shirt bc oikawa put him on

would wear yeezys and supreme, i fear

i can see him being into watching the “who tf did I marry” series

massive gym bro

would have his finsta tracking his gains

his fyp would also probably be workouts and those “baby don’t hurt me” meme tiktoks (idk how to explain)

would be the winner of senior assassin

he would def shoot oikawa first

type of person to wear ‘obession’ by calvin klein mixed with axe body spray

as for insta, he would def have a good 1k

would post you to the cutest songs ever and collab on posts

HARD LAUNCH TYPA GUY

yall would have like a specific song that would make him be like “this is our songgg”

in his head

most likely a tyler song

aka ‘sweet/i thought you wanted to dance’

he’d be the okokok to your lalalala

dates would include: him just spoiling you and dinner dates

artists he would listen to: tyler the creator, metro boomin, 21 savage, kendrick lamar, j. cole

[goomyloid]

PLEASE explain your thoughts on kriselle in full detail

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS 100% UNPROMPTED ASK! I SHALL EXPLAIN

i hate toby fox. why did he do this to us. he really put it better than anyone else. not really romantic not really platonic but…. something else… some secret more sinister more heartfelt more absurd third thing

i wonder at what point should i clarify that i dont even really seek out kriselle in a romantic context… DONT GET ME WRONG i have zero issues with the ship whatsoever and all of the krisellers out there are living their best (most painful) lives and i SEE THE APPEAL. BUT when i rotate them in my brain i dont need them to kiss or anything like that i just need them to sit down and sadly hold hands and stay like that forever and ever. in case you couldnt gauge that from my art so far

tldr i dont think i ship them in the traditional sense at least …. the things that i usually fixate on for any romantic ship are not there with these two. there are no romantic feelings there In my mind. and all at the same time i start screaming and throwing up and killing myself (all positive) whenever i see them even in the same image together. hngh

ive tried explaining this to people before and they usually suggest something along the lines of a QPR and even that doesnt feel right to me. truly the best way i can put it is… that red string of fate man… which i almost hesitate on saying too because i dont actually know if noelle is Quite an important enough character to the story to warrant a connection like that. WHICH IS A CRAZY THING TO SAY. I KNOW. DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT GETTING ME WRONG i think dess and her connections to gaster and her usage as a stepping stone into the weird route are all VERY important… but in my brain its just not kris/knight/asriel/every other mysterious main focus of the story Important. i didnt mean to get into deltarune theorizing here i hope nobody’s blood is boiling rn

so yeah in the end. toby fox once again put it best. they are friends, but they are also something else.

back to the actual pairing though… sometimes i think im going overboard and overestimating how close kris and noelle were as children because noelle will go and say things like “i wonder if we were ever really friends at all.” which is kind of a fair statement considering the circumstances. sure they played together and all and tagged along with their siblings to do stuff together but when dess went missing… it all kind of stopped. kris is just a kid, they dont know what to do or even how to process it, much like noelle. asriel is probably dealing with his own feelings, he just lost his friend and likely old enough to understand the weight of what happened. while noelle and kris cant say much to each other at all.

im always back and forth on speaking headcanons for kris but the one that i always seem to come back to is selective mutism… to me kris had a lot of trouble communicating well as a child and could only grow comfortable around certain people, asriel and noelle being clear examples because they’re both so patient with them. maybe because of this noelle felt like they could understand each other without really needing words, and just physical interaction was enough to achieve some form of closeness… or maybe that was all just on her end, she thinks when kris goes to play the piano. but if that’s the case, why does it feel like a concert just for her…?

jesus dont even get me start on them as teenagers either. noelle has lost her sister, and now kris has lost their brother… but not in the same way. they look at each other and wonder if they’re the same now. or, maybe thats too cruel. maybe its not the same thing at all. asriel’s coming back soon, after all. it will all be over soon, kris won’t have to feel this way for much longer, right? so then, why does kris look so miserable, sitting in the corner over there? all noelle feels like she can do is sit next to them quietly. to be there, and to somehow, vaguely, messily help each other. the misfit kids that dont really know how to talk to each other and yet understand each other regardless

thats why the dark world feels like such a dream to her. these crazy city lights, fantastical creatures, susie’s there, and she actually might have the means to defend herself and stand her ground, whether it be verbally or… otherwise

and most of all, much like with kris offering an adventurous haven to susie in ch1, the same is extended to noelle. by kris’s side, no less. it feels like theyre doing things together again, and its fun, and nostalgic… she wants to bring dess. and i think its okay to assume kris wants to bring asriel, too. recreating the make-believe world they lost so long ago… is it really possible?

no… how can it really be possible, when this isnt kris? something is wrong. its almost perfect, except kris… it’s them, but it’s not. she sees their face, their expressions, their laughs, their worries. and yet the voice that comes from them… isnt them. and it scares her! even if nothing particularly bad happened as a result. and if something bad DID happen, well…

she just wants what they had before back. is it really so impossible? can they reconcile after all these years? does kris want to? is kris capable of doing so? maybe they just need to hug again. will it feel like a real hug? the person she thought she understood is acting in ways she doesnt understand. they’re telling her to do weird things. they cycle through actions as if they just want to know what happens. and they cant even play piano anymore.

[keirawantstocry]

An idea: Pac and Fit learn and then watch Tubbo doing his trampoline (or maybe even gymnastics in general) routine<3

oh tia. have i mentioned you're a genius. rotating this in my mind. i didn't do it justice nobody can. gah its just so good

“What's this?” Pac asked, as Fit and him walked up to Tubbo's place. There he stood next to a large rectangular trampoline with cushions on the sides. 

“I used to be a trampolinist when I was younger,” Tubbo said as he began to shed the outer layers of his outfit. Pac barely processed his words as his eyes narrowed in on the strong thighs now on display under short black shorts and the muscled biceps under the tank top. 

He glanced up and saw Fit's eyes trained on the same thing. Fit noticed him looking and glanced up at him. Their eyes were saying the same thing to each other. 

“Bagi suggested I get back into it,” Tubbo continued as Pac tore his attention away from Fit, away from Tubbo's thighs and tried to pay attention to what he was saying. “It's a way to release pent up stress and energy.” 

“There's other ways to release pent up energy,” Pac muttered under his breath in Portuguese. 

“What was that?” Tubbo said, looking up but thankfully the translator hadn't caught it. 

“Nothing,” Pac said, trying to look innocent and like he hadn't just been staring at Tubbo's thighs again. 

Tubbo squinted at him suspiciously but turned back around to climb onto the trampoline. Their eyes were definitely not zeroed in on his ass. 

With a quick few bends to his torso followed by snapping, Tubbo was ready. 

The performance could only be explained as incredible. Every movement of his body was fluid and followed the move before it perfectly. Pac was utterly obsessed with the way his muscles twisted and flexed with his movements. How his calves flexed, how his incredibly strong core kept himself balanced through every flip and jump. 

The flips were the main event, up and down over and over again as he flipped, quickly tucking his knees in before straightening again to touch down and bounce back up even higher. He spun in the air, elegantly twisting with his arms tucked into his sides. 

Pac would be the first to admit that trampolining didn't seem like a very attractive sport but now? Watching Tubbo land gently with a flushed face and wide grin, he had to change his mind. 

With barely a glance at Fit he could tell his boyfriend was thinking the same thing. 

Tubbo climbed carefully off the trampoline and stood in front of them, panting heavily. “Good?” he said with a laugh. 

“So good,” Pac said, feeling dizzy as his eyes dipped down the sweat dripping down Tubbo's chest. 

“It was amazing,” Fit said, slightly more capable of thought then Pac was. 

“Is your boyfriend okay?” Tubbo asked Fit with a slight laugh. “He's fucking vibrating.” 

They both looked at him and Fit laughed loudly. “Yeah, yeah, he just wants to jump your bones so bad it's making him dizzy.” 

“Fitch!!” Pac cried out, avoiding both of their eyes. “Shut up.” 

Fit laughed, that deep laugh from his chest as Tubbo eyed him curiously. “Is that so?” 

Pac perked up at his inflection. “Are you interested?” 

Tubbo flushed, looking between two of them. “Pac, man, your boyfriend is right there.” 

“So?’ 

Tubbo raised an eyebrow incredulously. “I… I don't think he'd appreciate you flirting with me right in front of him.” 

“Pffft,” Pac said, waving him off. “Não, pretty sure he wants to… jump your bones as he said as well.” 

Tubbo froze. “Sorry… what?” 

Pac couldn't stop his eyes from dipping down again as a drop of sweat fell from his face onto the stretch of skin above his shirt. His brain short-circuited. 

Distantly he could hear Fit's rumbling laugh. “Aw come on, Tubbo. If you don't know by now that he wants you, you're kind of stupid.” 

Tubbo spluttered. “Hey, I'm not stupid! Wait, he wants me?” 

“Don't talk about me like I'm not here,” Pac said half heartedly, taking a step forward so he could run his hand over Tubbo's collarbone. 

“Fit,” Tubbo said in a strained voice. “You better tell me if you're serious or not right now before I actually make out with your boyfriend right fucking now.” 

“Go right ahead. As long as I get a shot at you next.” 

Tubbo let out a weak noise of surprise before he and Pac were falling into each other desperately, all clumsy hands and gentle mouths.

[sewersewersewercouch]

A macro post for a Micro-phone!

To those of you I’ve been threatening with this post for god knows how long–yes, I’m finally doing it. I’m writing the goddamn Microphone meta, because I have SO MANY THOUGHTS on this silly little sentient microphone. (She’s not even my favorite character, she’s my second favorite. My favorite is Cabby, but Cabby makes me go into such a feral state that I can barely form words about her other than writing copious amounts of fanfiction. I digress.) Before I get into it, though, I have some general “please be normal on my post” housekeeping I want to start with.

Firstly, this post is about Microphone. Specifically, about Microphone and the themes of choice and morality as they appear in her arc. This post is NOT meant to comment on the morality or choices of any other character. Specifically, by the nature of Mic’s story in the majority of the show, Taco will probably come up a lot because she’s there for a lot of it, but in a weird way, a lot of this post is kind of about how Mic’s arc doesn’t revolve around Taco as much as it’s often believed to? I don’t know, hopefully it’ll make more sense when you read it, but whatever, this post is not about my views on Taco.

To add on–THIS POST IS NOT ABOUT SHIPPING. I don’t want to hear about how much you like or dislike XYZ ship in the comments or reblogs of this post. Make your own damn post. If you want to know how I feel about a certain ship, you can always feel free to ask, just…like, not here. 

Also, I will admit, part of the reason I started making this post is because there were certain interpretations of Microphone in this fandom that bothered me, but I don’t want that to be the vibe of this post as a whole. I do the “I’m always right about this character and nobody else gets them” bit as much as the next guy, but when it extends beyond being a bit, that’s when you start to be kind of an asshole who refuses to so much as listen to views different from their own. I don’t want to be that. I know I’m not incapable of being wrong, and I also know there’s a lot of this that’s subjective, because it’s a fictional story written by people whose minds I cannot read. I don’t want to make this post to hate on others’ opinions, I want to make this post to love Mic! We are all love Mic!

Lastly, I started drafting (read: rotating in my brain and vaguely mentioning it to friends) this post pre-II16, and as I’m writing this now I’m just after act 1. So this may have spoilers for act 1, but also some of this I came up with before that even existed and had to kind of adjust in order to account for that. Obviously Mic wasn’t in there much, but there are a few small adjustments so I will say here there be spoilers. I also have so much ADHD (so does Mic, but that’s a different meta that I mayhaps will write if this goes over well) and I am allergic to being concise or staying on topic. The title does not fuck around, it really is quite a macro post. Sorry in advance.

That said, it’s Microphone time!

Ok so there are a couple quotes from a Brian livestream that I really appreciated because they kinda summed up the general thesis statement of this post, if you will? So I’m gonna put those here and then refer back to them as needed:

“What I find most interesting is how you would think when [Taco] comes back in season 2, and she’s like, ‘oh, I’m gonna make a deal with Microphone’, that she is going to manipulate Microphone, she is going to be the one in control, the one in power, the one, you know, leading the more ignorant and innocent Microphone, but Microphone at a point is like, ‘I’m done,’ and cuts Taco off.”

“I think Microphone was completely justified to leave [Taco] in Hatching the Plan. Perhaps would have even been justified to do so sooner than that. But, you know, it’s really up to what she wants and what she’s comfortable with, and she set a boundary, and we stan.”

“I really enjoyed the subversion of expectation with [Microphone], that she was not a victim, played an active role, and when a line was crossed, she was like, ‘I’m done, I’m out.’ And you really gotta respect the integrity of that, I certainly do.”

Okay, remember those? Good. We’re going to get back to them in a while, because we’re going through this shit episode by episode.

So, for the first…quite a while, actually, Mic doesn’t really do a whole lot. Like, we see that she’s generally pretty friendly but with a rather short temper, and her main schtick is that 1) she’s loud, 2) this causes her to screw challenges up, and 3) this in term makes most of her team not like her and behave quite rudely towards her. That’s kinda all we got. 

Oh, and she seems to be being stalked by some kind of mysterious entity, but whatever, that’s a later problem.

One of the earlier on scenes I’d like to draw your attention to is in Theft and Battery, where Cheesy walks up to Mic and, apropos of nothing, says, “Mic! I've just experienced the most horrible thing! It was a monstrosity! Your personality! Get it? Because everyone thinks you're annoying!” Which, like, I know I said I wasn’t commenting on the morality of other characters, but I will take this moment to say, fucking asshole. I don’t usually dislike Cheesy but I would have decked him for this one. Mic went so easy on him.

But I digress (I do that a lot! You’re going to find that out over the course of this post!) We see Mic blow up like she usually does at comments like this, but before that, we see inside her head for a second—she imagines being surrounded by Cheesys, all laughing at her expense.

This is the first time we truly see how much all those remarks from her teammates actually affect her. It’s not just a split-second flash of anger—all those things are really, truly, hurting her.

In the next episode, Rain On Your Charade, we see the first time she has an actually good interaction with another Grand Slam, this being Soap. Mic and Soap seem to bounce off each other pretty well—Mic’s impulsivity is a good counter for Soap’s much more rigid way of thinking. They give each other advice on their respective problems and comfort one another. For once in her life (literally in her life thus far, given you-know-what!) we can see Mic having a healthy interaction where she is clearly valued and supportive. Someone who encourages her to listen to her heart—as we see, this is gonna be a theme.

So, of course, it’s just Mic’s luck that Soap gets immediately eliminated.

And now Mic is stuck alone on a team that hates her—that makes disparaging remarks about her every move, and that is doing an absolute number on her mental health. She refers to herself, in her own diary, as annoying, harmful, random, useless, insignificant, a loser. And now she has absolutely nobody in her corner.

Enter Taco, with a cup of tea and a deal to make. 

Okay, the first thing I want to address is the way that Microphone reacts to seeing Taco. Well, I mean, first, she reacts with, “AAAAAA,” as I’m sure many of us would if a British woman jumped out of a bush at us. But after she’s done doing that, she says, “What are you doing here, Taco?” And it makes me sound really silly to say “how’d she know her name?” because, uh, duh, genius, it’s an object show, she’s a taco, but like…you get what I mean, right? She addresses Taco like she knows who she is. Which makes me wonder, did she see season 1? (Did she even exist when season 1 would have been airing?) But she can’t have done, or she would have heard about all the Pickle stuff. The most likely option in my opinion would be that she heard the season 1 contestants talking about it, I guess? But either way, she seems to know that Taco has done bad things in the past, and instinctively doesn’t trust her. (I mean, also she has been actively stalking her, which maybe doesn’t help. Whatever.)

I don’t have too much to say about the rest of this interaction—Taco offers to guide Microphone through the game in exchange for a fifty percent cut of her winnings, Microphone declines, Taco tells her to think about it.

Next episode—Mazed and Confused! As usual, the Grand Slams immediately ditch Mic, and she winds up getting kinda pulled into the Bright Lights group. And there’s some interesting Mic dialogue—featuring the II-typical move of characters not discussing their issues outright but rather showing them via thinly veiled projection. And I will fully admit that I love this. Every time I see it I go nuts for it. Firstly, Marshmallow is talking about Apple using her, to which Mic says, “Maybe it's not so bad if someone uses you, if- if it benefits you as well, right?” Then she has this interaction with Fan:

Fan: B-but in that song, the vocalist lovingly chronicles how they couldn't deal with themselves until they gain the companion they need! It's pure poetry!

Microphone: So, everything he does is decided by someone else? Nice message…

Fan: Well, Microphone, what gives you the right to have an "interpretation"? When's the last time you gained something of value from true art such as this?

Microphone: Ugh... certain people always tell me I have so much to gain.

So, obviously, “certain people” is Taco, and we can see how conflicted Microphone is about the whole situation. On the one hand, she doesn’t like the idea of blindly following someone else’s directions without making any of her own decisions, but also, even if she’s concerned that she’s being used, she does see how it could benefit her. (Also, this is far from the last time we’re going to see Microphone flimsily attempting to justify something going on with her.)

Well, apparently she comes to a decision, because she runs off to get help from Taco. With Taco’s guidance, Mic makes it through the maze, and Baseball even compliments her. We see a clear example of how she could potentially benefit from this partnership. (Well, until she accidentally gives away the position of the exit to Test Tube, but I digress.)

As we get into “Kick the Bucket,” it seems like Mic’s pretty all-in on working with Taco. However, right off the bat, we see a moment where Mic outright gives Taco a hard no on one of her directions, that being, using her temporary paralyzer. (Side note: it absolutely cracks me up how she goes “you don’t do that!” like she’s telling off a small child for stealing candy or something. Never change, Mic.)

We see a couple of things here—one, that Microphone has no reservations of telling Taco she won’t do something where she crosses a certain line. And secondly, with some other evidence, we can figure out where that line is. She refuses to use the temporary paralyzer, she freaks out about Lightbulb and Test Tube being sent back in time, she stops Taco from letting Knife’s minecart go over a drop, she makes her promise “no violence” before they go on the Shimmers’ ship. 

And yet, look at the scene after this, with Balloon. She purposely tries to get in his head to make him feel anxious and afraid that he’s at risk of being eliminated, and then later makes fun of him to her other teammates in order to cast doubt on him. And she came up with this plan against Taco’s advice—although it does end up impressing Taco, that’s not why she does this, it’s pure Microphone. So it isn’t hurting others that she draws the line—one could clearly argue that her messing with Balloon like that is pretty hurtful. It’s specifically physical violence that bothers her, which is kind of an interesting place to draw the line in a world where dead contestants can be revived, but emotions are forever.

Hell, Mic says it outright in the next episode, Alternate Reality Show–”You say that like we didn’t do our share of permanent damage.” She’s aware what she did was “permanent damage,” and Taco didn’t even tell her to do it, and yet, she did. This is where we first start to see the cognitive dissonance that Mic is dealing with here—she has a strong sense of morals, seeing as she’s giving back the temporary paralyzer explicitly against Taco’s wishes, because “it’s the right thing to do.” And yet, she’s actively making choices that go against that sense, and she doesn’t know how to feel about that.

Next up, we’re looking at Mine Your Own Business, AKA one of Mic’s best episodes. Her and Taco’s plan in this episode is to try to get Knife on their side because he’s seen that they’re working together. This goes…not as planned, starting from the moment they blow their cover by getting into an argument about whether you should say “excuse me” when you sneeze, while invisible behind him. (We didn’t get enough of them as a comedic duo, by the way. They crack me up so bad in this episode.) Anyways, Mic tries valiantly to bring Knife in with a very convincing, “Join us…yeah!” When Taco and Knife inevitably begin arguing, however, Mic says “We just wanna help!” Which…do you? Yeah, okay girl, keep telling yourself that.

There’s also the little scene where Mic is trying to get Taco to open up about why she was reaching for the portal. This is one of the first interactions we see them have that isn’t about the game. Microphone just…genuinely wants to know what was distressing Taco so much. You know, like you might with a friend. And that’s one thing that interests me about this—Microphone thinking of Taco like a friend isn’t something that Taco did on purpose to gain her trust, and in fact, she seems rather resistant to it. It’s entirely Microphone initiating these friendly interactions. (Even though soon after she does imply she doesn’t feel she really knows the real Taco.)

Then we see the bit where Knife is about to go off a cliff, Taco gives a thumbs up, but Mic doesn’t approve and manages to get Knife into their minecart. I touched on this above, but this is another example of Mic’s resistance to physically harming others.

The next time we see this terrific trio, Taco apologizes to Mic for not being open with her, and I kid you not, Mic responds with, “aww, Taco!” (I reiterate: Never change, Mic.) And, even when Knife explains what happened with Pickle, Mic still comes to Taco’s defense. Some of this is because of the fact that Mic is beginning to truly see Taco as a friend, yes, but I think another part of it is that previously mentioned cognitive dissonance. She wants to believe she’s doing the right thing, and not just aiding and abetting someone who hurts others, so of course she’s going to want to defend Taco–because if Taco is a bad person, and she’s purposefully helping her achieve her ends just for the sake of winning a game show, what does that make her?

On to Hatching the Plan! (We’re in the home stretch, I promise!) We see Mic joking about the idea of what happened to Pickle happening to her—”At least, until you inevitably ‘drop me too,’ or whatever.” Clearly, she didn’t take too much stock in Knife’s words, and she’s pretty convinced she’s safe from a similar fate. (Which she is! Because Pickle was being unknowingly strung along, and Mic is willingly helping Taco reach her goal. But that’s a later problem.)

Now we see Knife confronting Microphone and trying to convince her to, “stop, idiot, have some dignity?” To which Mic tells him that she “has a voice” (as Taco, in the background, turns off MePad’s volume), “no one’s shutting [her] down” (as Taco powers MePad off) and she’s “not just being dragged along” (as Taco literally drags MePad along.) And the thing is, obviously there’s the ironic juxtaposition of what Mic is saying and what Taco is doing, but Mic also…isn’t entirely wrong?

Remember those Brian quotes from earlier? Here’s where we start using them!

Because here’s the thing—like he said, you would totally expect Taco to be playing Microphone the entire time, to be the one in power and manipulating her, because that’s what happened to Pickle. But that’s…not what’s happening. Rather, Taco has been pretty upfront about what she expects of Mic and what both of them have to…well, for a lack of a better word, gain. And it’s not like Mic has no choice in this matter! She has repeatedly shown that she is willing to say no to Taco when she crosses a line, and as Brian said, she would be totally justified to have noped out way earlier than she ends up doing. But…she doesn’t. She’s making her choices, and then bending over to justify them, because as I said, Mic has a strong sense of morals and knows there’s something that’s off, but she doesn’t want to admit she knows that and has continued to do what she’s doing.

So anywho. Taco and Mic use MePad’s teleportation to go after Fan and Test Tube on the ship, but not before Mic tries to make Taco promise no violence. Taco does not promise this, and of course, immediately kills Fan and Test Tube upon arriving.

This is where Mic’s cognitive dissonance runneth over, and she makes the executive decision to ditch Taco’s ass and leave the game.

I’m going to put Mic’s whole little speech here, because I really like it and it’s kind of the culmination of all the points I’m making: “I haven't been... listening to my heart. Instead, I've been listening to... this... well... It was a voice in my head! And it would tell me how to... go further. Further than I was willing to go. I heard it so often that I never... I never heard myself. So... what's the point?” And also, “I didn't make the best choices. So now... I'm making my first good one. This is what I want.”

Because that’s kind of the thing, right? Deep down, Microphone always knew cheating and messing with people was wrong. But she was, by choice, not listening to that instinct, because what Taco was promising seemed so attractive. Getting the prize, yes, but she also just fucking wants friends. And when she does well in the game, her teammates want to be friendlier to her. And also, as I said she came to see Taco as a friend, and she didn’t want to lose that either.

But…okay, here’s where I complain about a take I don’t like, and I’m sorry about that. I find it to be an oversimplification that Mic left Taco because “Taco hurt her.” Because, honestly, she didn’t really directly? What drove Mic to leave was seeing Taco hurt other people, and that by proxy, Microphone was…not even a bystander to these things, but kind of an active participant. Morally speaking, she couldn’t sit with that. So she decided that the prize and the recognition weren’t worth it, and boom, she was done.

I don’t really have much to say on the following episodes that are already out, because Mic has  barely in here. But I do have a hot take on what might potentially come next for Mic I’d like to share.

I don’t really…care whether Mic and Taco end up on good terms.

Okay, maybe that’s not the best way to say it—rather, I think there are ways to do either way well, and ways to do either way wrong, and what I care more is about whether Mic’s story is well-written than which direction it actually goes.

Quick disclaimer that I drafted this section pre-II16, and at the point we’re at now, I’m operating under the assumption that the deleted contestants aren’t actually going to be dead forever and we will have Pickle again. (If this turns out not to be the case please don’t make fun of me.)

I’ve seen a lot of discourse around the fandom about whether Microphone and Pickle will forgive Taco, and the first problem comes right there with aggregating them into one MicrophoneandPickle entity. Microphone and Pickle are two different people who had very different relationships with Taco. As I’ve said earlier, the Pickle that Taco knew was entirely a facade, whereas with Mic…well I don’t want to say she was entirely honest about who she was, because I don’t think she’s entirely honest about who she is with herself, so let’s just say as honest as she’s capable of being. Pre-II16, my suspicion was that they were going to split the difference and have one end up on good terms with Taco and the other not. Like, I think in terms of the message that the show is trying to give, this would be a good one—if someone has wronged you and tries to make amends, you can choose to accept that or you can choose to walk away, and neither is a morally wrong choice. Post-The Reality of the Situation, I’m going to say that if this does happen, it’s going to be Mic the former and Pickle the latter, just having seen how Taco’s apology went over with Pickle. And that’s the thing—Pickle had no choice in what happened to him. Mic had agency over her situation, and went along with it in full knowledge of what that entailed. The Taco that Pickle had a relationship doesn’t exist, but in Mic’s case, she does. And most importantly—Pickle’s qualm with Taco is that she hurt him, but Mic’s was her actions towards other people, not Mic herself. If it’s proven that Taco has changed and doesn’t want to hurt others anymore…I think it’s not impossible that Mic could be lenient.

But either way—whether Mic ends on good or bad terms with Taco—what would make it satisfying to me is if it’s not framed about whether Taco “deserves” or “doesn’t deserve” her forgiveness, but rather whether Mic chooses to forgive her. Like Brian said—it’s up to what she wants and what she’s comfortable with. Choice has been such a major theme for Mic, and I think she deserves to have her agency at the forefront.

Anyways, it is literally after two in the morning and I wrote this entire thing in a fit of hyperfocus, god help me. Again, if this does well and anyone wants to see a “why Microphone II has ADHD real and canon” post I will absolutely do that.

[patdkoala]

New Neighbor

Pairing: Sam Claflin x Female Reader

Warnings: None This is Pure Fluff

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART TWO I kinda want a part two

I just moved into my new apartment complex. It's nice. Clean. Quiet. And it's mostly filled with actors and actresses so the people that live here are rarely home anyway.

I'm a writer. So, I'm always home.

I sit in my apartment, turn on my ambiance lamp, have my record player on a constant rotation of my favorite tunes, and then have my cup of tea.

I will sit there and write for hours on end. If all goes well, I will have written a page and a half during those hours.

I never said I was a good writer. I'm speaking from experience.

One day I was getting home late. (I was sitting at Mcdonald's for two hours just reordering a large fry with a large Dr. Pepper.) I had just stepped out of the elevator and I heard the apartment door next to mine open and then close.

My neighbor was finally home.

For as long as I'd lived here, they had never been home. I've lived here for two years.

I set my giant Dr. Pepper cup on the counter along with my keys and wallet. I turned on my lamp and record player.

I turned it up on full volume like I have been doing for the past two years. I sat down at my desk and started to write about the people I was staring at in McDonald's. Then I heard three knocks at my door.

Quite loudly too if I must say.

"Jeez, I'll be right there!" I yelled as I ran over to the door to answer it.

I opened the door and I shit you not the guy standing there looked like that Billy Dunne fella from that Amazon show I was watching late last night.

"Excuse me, but do you mind turning that down? I'm trying to run lines and we have thin walls," He said as I just stood there and stared at him.

"Are you-" "Yes, I am the man from the tv. Now, do you mind turning that down?" He said in a grumpy old man tone that made me roll my eyes and go to turn it off.

I left the front door open and when I went back over to it, he was gone. So I shut the door and did what any sane person would do, I googled him.

'Main guy from Daisy Jones show'

Sam Claflin. Okay, so I googled something else.

'Sam Claflin movies'

So I watched some.

Okay, I watched all of them. Plus, I finished all of Daisy Jones and started Peaky Blinders.

A few days later, I realized I hadn't written anything for days. I'd been sitting on the couch ordering food to my door and only getting up to use the restroom or answer the door.

I decided to cool it on the Sam Claflin marathon. I got up and took a shower. I then deep-cleaned my whole apartment.

I finally decided to write something. So, I set up my lamp and my record player. I may or may not have forgotten about my neighbor, Sam Claflin.

I started writing and then I heard three distinct knocks at the door. It's funny how I can tell it's his knocks already.

I opened the front door and smiled up at the tall gentleman in front of me. "Hello, Sam Claflin. Would you like for me to turn down the music again?"

"Yes, I- Did you google me?" He asked as I nodded proudly. "I did as a matter of fact. I also watched your whole discography."

"What? No, you didn't. That would have taken you a matter of days."

"I did actually. I'm a big loner with no friends and all I do is spend all day writing in my sad lonely apartment. If I don't go outside for weeks nobody is gonna notice," I said as he just stood there with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Did you watch the Hunger Games?"

"Yes."

"Enola Holmes?"

"Yes, of course, my dear Mycroft," I said with a wink.

"Peaky Blinders?"

"Yes, love the stache by the way."

"Thanks. Did you-"

"Yes. I watched everything. Even the bad romance ones and the-"

"You don't like romance movies? What woman doesn't like romance movies?"

"Ones with brains. They are all the same. They all start the same and all end the same."

"Oh, you've had your heart shattered," He said as he crossed his arms.

"What? No. I've never even been in that sick puppy love before. I've only been in serious relationships with serious men. Not dumb pretty boy actors. Also, what's with you dying in all of your films? And do you only star in book renditions?"

"Did you just call me a pretty boy actor?"

"Is the only thing you heard me say?"

He just stood there and smiled at me. His cheesy British pretty boy actor smile. And I mistakenly smiled back.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" He asked as I then crossed my arms to match his energy.

"Okay. But, I don't want to go out."

"Okay. We can eat at my place. I'll pick you up at-"

"I can walk next door by myself. You just have dinner ready by 8."

He nodded and then he walked away from the door. I shut it and went back to writing.

I wrote a couple of pages. Nothing much.

I then started to get ready around 7:30. I wasn't going to put much time or effort into this because I don't see it as a date. I see it as a get-together with my cute neighbor who just so happens to be Sam Claflin.

I walked over to his apartment around 8:15.

I knocked three times.

"You're late," He said as I rolled my eyes and walked into his apartment without any introduction.

"Well, I figured you already don't like me so what's the harm in being a few minutes late."

"How can I not like you when I don't even know your name?"

"(Y/N). There now you have every right not to like me."

"Okay, well, (Y/N). I hope you like chicken."

"What if I was a vegetarian? Would you have something else for me to eat?"

"Are you a vegetarian?"

"No."

"Then we won't have to worry about that now do we?"

I smiled at him and then sat down at the two-seater table in the middle of his dining room. His apartment was a little bigger than mine. I guess that comes with being a big-time Hollywood actor.

He had nice things. A big Tv. A big couch. Probably even had a big bed.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't still have my twin bed from my college apartment.

His plants are fake, though. This means that he likes the ambiance that plants create but he doesn't want the commitment of keeping them alive.

"What are you doing?"

"Scoping out your apartment. Seeing if I'm going to steal it from you or not," I said as he laughed and then sat down in front of me.

He poured us both glasses of wine.

"Is this a date?" I asked as he set the bottle down.

"Do you want it to be?"

"Well, I'm just curious because you asked me out before you even knew my name. So, you are either insane or incredibly horny and will most likely fuck anything that moves," I said matter-of-factly.

"Are you a musician?" He asked obviously trying to change the subject.

"No, why do you ask that?"

"The loud music."

"Those are just some of my favorite bands. They help me write when I can't think of anything."

"Ah, you're a writer. That makes sense," He said as I glared at him from across the table.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you talk a lot and you seem to always be stuck in your own head. I've seen a lot of writers and they all have those tells."

"Okay, so you figured me out. My turn."

I studied him. I've watched all his movies. I know his Star Chart. I know what college he went to. I know when he first started acting. I know what his first movie was. I know who his first girlfriend was and I know to who he lost his virginity. He's another dumb male celebrity that has nothing secret or hidden from the media.

"I've got nothing," I said as I looked into his eyes.

Because that was the truth. I looked into this man's eyes and all I saw were these gorgeous green eyes that were just staring right back at me.

"Well, since you know everything about me do you mind if I ask you something?" He asked as he ate a piece of meat off his fork.

"Go ahead."

"Why did you watch all my movies?"

"Because I wanted to figure you out and I found it interesting that I live next to Sam Claflin the actor."

"Pretty boy actor" He added as if he were correcting me.

"Right. Pretty boy actor." I said as he turned a slight shade of pink.

"Are you usually home alone? Or do you live with someone?"

"Why? Do you want to kill me, Sam Claflin?"

"No. And why do you keep using my full name?"

"Because it's throwing you off."

"Yeah, it is."

We went on to talk about what I like to write. Which is mostly mystery and murder mystery. I stray far away from romance. It's sticky and all the same.

He learned my Star Chart. What college I went to. When I first started writing. The first novel I wrote. Who my first boyfriend was and to whom I lost my virginity.

"I hope to see you again, (Y/N) (L/N)," He said as he leaned against my door frame. (He insisted on walking me to my door)

"Well, if I ever want to see you again I know to just turn my music up too loud," I said as he smiled and then I turned around and shut the door.

I leaned against it and I swear this man stood in front of my closed door for a solid minute before walking away. I wonder if he was hoping I'd open it and let him in.

If we were going to have sex, though, I'd hope it'd be in his bed because mine can barely support my own weight.

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 18)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (17) | Next (19)

Content Warning: Vore/ sexual themes

Word Count: 2.7k

------ Chapter 18: The Glutton ------

Chester couldn’t get Jackie out of his head. She was the best human he’d ever tasted, and he was obsessed with her. He fantasized incessantly about savoring her in his mouth, swallowing her down, and feeling her move around inside his belly. He wouldn’t be able to rest otherwise: He’d stayed up all last night thinking about her, rotating her around in his brain like he was roasting her on a rotisserie. She had such a unique, unidentifiable flavor that tantalized his taste buds as he remembered her sublime taste on his tongue. Any meals he ate paled in comparison, seemed bland and tasteless, when she hovered in his every waking thought as well as his dreams. 

His mouth watered as he wandered over to the royal kitchen. The chefs were all focused on food prep, chopping and yelling and banging pots and pans around as they worked tirelessly to feed the royal family and their army of servants. Chester sidled along the wall, hoping he could escape notice. He padded over to the human tanks, wiping his salivating maw on his sleeve and finding it harder and harder to restrain himself. He loomed over the enclosures, searching for his prey. 

Jackie’s breath hitched in her throat as the specter of her worst nightmares overshadowed her. She knew the giant desired her, was seeking her out to eat her, and she was deathly afraid. With nowhere to hide, on display in the transparent case, she remained perfectly still, hoping by some miracle to evade his sight. Her blood froze in her veins when his predatory gaze landed on her, and his mouthful of slick teeth displayed across his face in a ravenous grin. She let out a high-pitched shriek and cringed away as his enormous hand blocked out the light above. 

“Chester!” Bucky snapped, whacking his knuckles hard with a wooden ladle. “Get away from there!” 

“Ouch!” Chester cried, retracting his hand. “Aw, c’mon, I was just looking…” 

“Bullshit! I know you too well, you drooling glutton. There’s no way I’d let you prowl around unsupervised in MY kitchen.” He planted his hands on his mile-wide hips with a shake of his head. 

Chester turned up the corner of his mouth in a smirk. “Alright, fine. You caught me.”  He kneaded his hand, which was turning red and beginning to bruise from being struck. “Can I just-” 

“No.” 

“Please?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“I just want to borrow one for a few hours. Is that too much to ask? Nobody will even notice she’s missing. If the king requests her, you can just claim she’s sick or something.” 

Bucky squinted his eyes in thought, stroking his triple chins. He grinned mischievously. “What will you give me in return? Will you let me piss in Ronny’s food?” 

Chester retched. “You know whatever you put in his food, I have to eat too. Hard pass.” 

“What about spit?” 

“Ugh, gross. No! You’ll get me in trouble if I sanction something like that.” Chester brushed his fingers against his neck. “That’s not worth losing my head over.” 

“Either way, the spoiled brat deserves it,” Bucky grumbled. He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “No deal then.” 

Chester frowned and dug his hand in his pocket. “What about this?” He revealed a handful of fine jewelry, glittering with gold and precious gems.  

Bucky’s eyes gleamed. “Where did you get those?” 

Chester glanced around conspiratorially before leaning forward and lowering his voice. “Princess Bianca’s jewelry box. She’s got so many trinkets, she’ll never notice a few missing. I snagged them recently when I was in her private quarters to check her breakfast. She doesn’t pay attention to the servants whom she considers beneath her.” 

Bucky sniggered. “Nice.” He gestured with his thick fingers greedily. “Alright. You win. Pick one, and she’s yours for a few hours.” Chester slapped an ornate garnet ring in the head chef’s pudgy palm and returned the rest to his pocket. Bucky frowned. 

“That’s worth a fortune all in itself,” Chester clarified, noting his dissatisfaction. “That’s more than enough for the privilege.” 

Bucky grunted, but he knew Chester was right. Besides, he was only loaning her out for a few hours: He wasn’t actually sacrificing anything himself. As far as he was concerned, it was free cash. “Fine. Just hang out in the food storage closet over there. If the king requests her for a snack, I expect you to spit her up. And clean her off when you’re done, for God’s sake.” 

“Fair enough,” Chester agreed. He didn’t care—whatever he had to say to get that tasty woman in his belly. His stomach rumbled, clamoring for fresh living meat. Jackie’s heart stopped with horror as she watched him remove the lid from her tank and reach his enormous hand inside. She had no defense, nowhere to run as his open hand approached, fingers far taller and thicker than her entire body curving around her. She screamed, but her exclamation was muffled as she was fully engulfed in the giant’s gargantuan fist. 

He raised her out triumphantly and rushed over to the food closet, shutting the door behind him for privacy. The closet was dark, cramped, and musty, with nowhere to rest his hindquarters comfortably, but Chester didn’t care. He sat down on the dusty floor, against a shelf loaded with onions, potatoes, carrots, and turnips, heedless of the inevitable accumulation of dirt on his clothes. The pungent odor of root vegetables and dust motes made him sneeze as he disrupted the layers of sediment. 

He peeked into his hand to see Jackie cowering down in the hollow of his fist, shivering uncontrollably. She wasn’t fighting him too much, since she comprehended how weak and powerless she was compared to a giant, so he opened his fingers like the blossoming of a flower to reveal the tasty nude maiden in all her glory. He drank in her intoxicating scent, ignoring the other smells pervading the air. He quivered with delight and anticipation, sighing with how overcome he was to finally get the chance to fully indulge himself. 

Jackie wanted to bolt so badly, but she feared a fall from this height would severely injure her, if not kill her. Plus, she doubted she could get away without the brute catching her, even if she scurried down his arm and tumbled into his soft lap to break her fall. “P-p-please... don’t hurt me...” she whimpered. 

“Shhhh, no, no, it’s okay,” Chester assured her. “I’m not going to harm you. I’m just going to swallow you whole. You’ll be tucked away, all nice and safe in my belly.” A flood of spit dribbled down his chin with anticipation. As he spoke, he admired her naked form. She would taste even better without any clothes to impede access to her skin. 

As his bright emerald eyes dined on her flesh, he was suddenly struck with an unexpected bout of shyness. She had a full figure, identical to a giantess but on a much smaller scale. Her voluptuous thighs and breasts looked delicious in more ways than one. Her form was very aesthetically pleasing, perhaps even... titillating? A blush crept over his cheeks. He’d seen plenty of human women naked before, but he didn’t normally see them through a sexual lens. None had ever captured his interest like she did. He was mortified to find blood flowing to his groin, awakening his member.  

He was lightheaded, and his heart was pounding almost as hard as Jackie’s, albeit for a very different reason. What was wrong with him? No human should make him feel this way. They were supposed to be food, not romantic interests. Yet, he’d known from the very beginning that she was special. He’d presumed it was because of her exquisite aroma and taste, but as he gazed upon her a different sentiment, one very powerful and overwhelming, invaded his heart. He felt an urge to hold her against him—or inside him—to protect her and keep her safe. Her face, which initially appeared plain to him when he was judging her by the king’s standards, now drew him in like a magical enchantment. 

Chester blinked, trying to snap out of his trance. For some reason, all at once, the whole situation felt very wrong—not just his inappropriate emotions, but his obsessive desire to consume her at any cost. He had single-mindedly pursued his goal to eat her, but now that he was here, he wanted more from her than merely satiation of his physical appetites. He didn’t know what to do, and he wasn’t in the habit of treating humans like people, so he sat there stupefied like an idiot. Jackie was crumbling under the strain as she waited for him to mercilessly devour her. After her dreadful encounter with King Richard, she knew what to expect: She knew struggling would be futile. 

“Um... so... what’s your name?” the hungry giant asked stupidly, not sure what else to say or do. He was stalling. He’d gotten this far, only to be paralyzed with indecision. He wanted to eat her so badly, yet the more benevolent yearning in his heart clashed with his ravenous stomach. 

Jackie’s face contorted with bafflement on top of her fright. “Huh?” 

“Your name,” Chester repeated, swallowing and licking the excess moisture off his lips. The subtle movements of his gigantic tongue and throat caused Jackie to recoil. She couldn’t help but imagine, with the graphic clarity of prior experience, the horror of being forced over the threshold of the teeth into the slavering maw, to be swallowed and squeezed into the churning, boiling organ deep inside. She was too afraid to answer him, too focused on her impending torture. 

Chester lowered his hand away from his mouth, resting it in his lap with a soft exhale. Jackie squeaked with surprise, reflexively clinging to one of his fingers for support. She shook in his palm, unsure what was happening. Yet again, with her new position closer to the ground, she weighed the option of sprinting for her life. She glanced up at the giant towering above her, his face scrunched with a complicated expression she was unable to distinguish. He was just so incomprehensively massive. His arm far exceeded the length she’d be able to run before he reacted. He’d effortlessly catch her, and the last thing she wanted to do was anger the giant man.  

“W-what difference does it make?” Jackie stammered, breaking the uncomfortable silence. She couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. “If you’re just going to treat me like food anyway?” 

Chester hesitated. “I don’t know.” He curled his huge fingers gently around Jackie, making her cringe. She didn’t know why he was asking her personal questions, but she figured it might be better to keep him talking, to delay and perhaps shorten her tour through his digestive tract. 

“M-my name’s Jaclyn,” she answered timidly. “Although everyone calls me Jackie.” 

“That’s a nice name,” Chester replied. He didn’t know what else to say, so he lapsed into a tense silence. His new desire, a strangely tender sentiment, battled his primal predatory urges. His cravings to ingest her were killing him, waxing stronger than ever. He wanted to lick her, to envelop her in his jaws, to roll her around in his cheeks like a jawbreaker, to feel her small body sliding down his throat. His stomach rumbled like an earthquake, and Jackie whimpered with raw terror. She didn’t want to be inside his body, not at all.  

He struggled to hold himself back, but he feared his stomach would take over if he deprived himself any longer. “Can I eat you?” he blurted out loudly. A drop of spittle dripped off his lip and splashed on his palm next to Jackie. 

“Are you kidding me? NO!” Jackie cried, hopping away from the fresh puddle of filthy warm slobber. 

“Please?” Chester implored. He subconsciously leaned over the tiny human, holding her closer to his mouth. “Good lord, you smell so good...” 

“S-stay back!” Jackie cried, holding out her hand stiffly in a fruitless gesture of self-defense. Chester was sorely tempted to wrap his lips around her cute, tasty little hand, or run his tongue up the length of her arm, but he restrained himself. He backed off with a sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. He wasn’t sure why he uttered those words. He was a giant, an apex predator; she was a lowly human. He had every right to devour her, and he didn’t require her permission to do so. Yet, he felt so wrong. Everything felt so wrong. His world was falling apart, all because of this little human he was obsessing over. He winced as his stomach growled again, more insistently this time. 

Keeping Jackie ensconced securely in his hand, he fumbled his other hand over the shelf loaded with vegetables and blindly snagged a carrot. He shoved the entire thing in his mouth, all the way up to the stalk, and crunched down on it with his teeth. He chewed it up and swallowed with a hearty gulp. He reached back again, grabbing an onion this time, and bit into it like an apple, without even peeling it. He chomped it down and continued to forage, demolishing a few potatoes and polishing off another onion with gusto. 

Jackie watched the gluttonous display with confusion and dread. She didn’t understand why the giant was dining on random vegetables. Was he just eating appetizers to prepare his stomach for her, the main course? His prodigal appetite was disquieting to behold as a menagerie of giant vegetables were grinded into mush by his fearsome teeth and disappeared raw down his gullet. Jackie could hear with gross detail the chewing of his teeth, the gulping of his throat, and the gurgling of his stomach as it received the offerings. She imagined swimming around in a cauldron of bubbling gastric juices, surrounded by fibrous pulp digesting all around her, and shuddered violently. She hated that mental image with a visceral passion. 

For his part, Chester failed to realize his vegetable binge was frightening the tiny human in his grasp. He was hungry and deeply conflicted. He yearned to eat Jackie with an intensity that burned as bright as the sun, but at the same time he didn’t want to force her into his belly. With tender new feelings embroiling his heart, he didn’t wish for her to hate him, by forcing her into his stomach. The correct course of action would be to return her to her tank uneaten, before he lost control of himself, but at the same time he didn’t want to let her go. He still strongly desired to eat her, to taste her, and a part of him wanted to keep her inside him forever.  

So he sat in the closet, wallowing in indecision and his own carnivorous urges, and gorged himself with vegetables. They were filler, and sadly not meat, but they were edible nonetheless, and superior to an empty belly. He was padding out his time with her as he tried to resist, yet still contemplated devouring her, leaving the option open. He didn’t want Bucky to know he failed to eat her either. Bucky would judge him for his odd choice, and find his behavior exceedingly strange and suspicious. Chester didn’t want to cause trouble or jeopardize his highly coveted position at court. 

Fortunately, his more civilized and compassionate side won against his predatory instincts. He did not eat Jackie, and returned her to her tank later without a single drop of saliva or acid on her skin. As miserable as he felt, to walk away without indulgence despite paying for the privilege, he was proud of himself for overcoming his hunger. His heart was beating fast, and his cheeks flushed as he glanced back at Jackie before exiting the kitchen. 

Jackie was perplexed. She had expected the worst, but nothing had happened. She wasn’t eaten against her will, even though the giant clearly coveted her succulent meat more than anything, with all his salivating and stomach gurgles. He stuffed himself full of vegetables instead. She didn’t know what to make of this puzzle. The rush of blood to his face before he left was even more bewildering to her. Why would he be blushing? Nothing made any sense. 

Chapter 19

[btr-rewatch]

Big Time Rush Song Rankings (+ commentary nobody asked for): "BTR"

I was bored. Decided to go through their albums and put them into a list from favorite to least favorite.

"Worldwide": Is it possible this song is overrated and hyped too much? No. This song was on heavy rotation for me from the moment I heard it. Wonderful song, 10/10. Full of love and yearning. Their all white outfits in the music video? Iconic. My mom's friend's daughter went to one of their shows and was picked as the Worldwide Girl, and young me didn't handle that well (I wasn't even AT the concert, so not like I had a chance, but still). I'm almost over it.

"Til I Forget About You": When they would show the music video for this during commercial breaks on Nick, I would leap from the couch and do the dance along with them. There used to be a good analysis post breaking down each of the boys' sections in the song and how it correlates with their personalities in the show and how they deal with heartbreak (there's also one for "Famous" that does the same).

"Big Time Rush": I used to sit on the school bus and stare blankly out the window listening to this one on repeat at like 7:45 in the morning. Just...not even awake yet but psyching myself up to live it big time.

"Famous": This one is pretty much tied with "Big Time Rush" in my head, and I'm tempted to bump it to 3, but the song's theme ultimately wins out. Love this song. Can't help but see it in a weirdly haunting light due to the above mentioned "Famous Analysis" post that I read over and over when I was younger and changed the way I saw the song from that point on. Thank you to Swedish girl-group Play for giving us this song. (I assume most people in the fandom have seen or heard the Play version already but if not, check it out)

"Halfway There": Ok, so. I love this song, but EVERY TIME I listen to it, I'm filled with slight annoyance over the fact that it's the "different" version than was originally released. When this single was released, it was KENDALL who sang the opening lines ("When the chips are down, back against the wall" etc) and then James who did his part later. That's the version I listened to for months before they got rid of it and replaced it with the version that appeared on their album. It was a jarring experience for me, and I've never quite fully recovered. The song will forever sound slightly wrong to me because of it.

"Stuck": Prior to starting this blog and doing the rewatch, I hadn't heard a lot of their songs for years, and I had completely forgotten this one existed. Like, it had been wiped from my brain. Rediscovering it was fun.

"City is Ours": Fun fact-my sister is scarred for life from this song and can no longer listen to it because when she was younger, she used it as her alarm tone to get up for school. It's forever associated with waking up in a panic early in the morning and has been ruined for her since the show's original run.

"This is Our Someday": I feel like this song is one of those forgotten ones. I don't remember it being big either in the show or outside of it back in the day (and it has the second lowest listens on Spotify). I do like it, though. Such a hopeful tune, and the line, "One is good, but four is better?" That's a good one. So true, guys.

"Count on You": This is a sweet one. I LOVE the music video for it in the Jordin Sparks episode. It's just. It's smooth. It feels like silk in my brain, though it's not one of my faves. I especially like how Logan's part, "What would I wanna do that for?" comes right at the "four" mark in their counting. Very nice.

"Big Night": Was never really a fan of this one because something about the way the music is structured bothers me but it's super sing-able, so it gets some props for that.

"I Know You Know": This one was going to be number 12, but it gets a bump up due to the acoustic version from '22 giving me slightly more appreciation for it. My original list didn't even include this song because I totally forgot about it until just now when I was going through the album.

"Oh Yeah": Not much to say about this one. I didn't really listen to it when I was younger because it was a "James song" and he was my least favorite of the guys singing-wise. (I am SORRY James stans) Love the spinning Logan head in the music video, though. I remember the fandom really enjoying that part.

"Nothing Even Matters": I simply don't have feelings about this song one way or another. It's just there.

"Any Kind of Guy": I have bizarre issues with this song. Gives me sensations of unpleasant colors and patterns. Zig-zaggy and burnt orange and brown. Bleh. Last place for "Any Kind of Guy." I think the silly music video with all the costumes didn't help.

[vizishereig]

ooh what about 19 for the ask game? 👀 (not sure if you’re after characters/a ship too but anything with Leon would be 👌👌)

Hi, hello! Sorry I took so long to write this, it kind of got away from me ;-; but I hope you like it! This is another one of my many AU’s that rotate in my brain, a mix of The Magnus Archives and Resident Evil :3 I think Leon would be very Lonely coded :D I mean… if any of the eldritch fears would choose him, it would definitely be the Lonely. Enjoy :D

19. Vulnerable

Vulnerability is weakness.

That’s one of the first lessons his dad beats into him.

The second lesson he learns is how to read his dad’s mood and avoid getting into situations that cause his dad to beat him.

That one takes a while, but he gets it down.

---

A lesson he learns on his own is how to be okay with being alone.

The kids at school aren’t particularly nice to him. He’s not sure why, but he learns to live around it. Books and the shaded area under a tree during recess become his friends instead of people.

It’s during this isolation when it happens the first time.

The world starts to get quiet. It’s so gradual that it takes Leon a few minutes to notice it. He looks up, blinking at the sight of fog draping the playground. It’s quiet now, silent. Eerie.

“Hello?” Leon calls out, voice shaking slightly. It’s cold.

As soon as he speaks, though, the fog clears up. Sound is back, loud in face of the previous silence.

Kids are talking and yelling over by the park. Nobody else seems bothered by the sudden appearance and disappearance of the fog. Or the absence of sound. He brushes it off for the moment, going back to his book.

When he asks one of his peers later, they stare at him blankly, saying there was no fog. It’d been midday and sunny, there couldn’t have been any.

He tries to put it out of his mind after that.

---

Except it keeps happening.

Nobody ever notices it, but it’ll creep in and leave Leon alone.

The quiet and the cold, a bone-deep chill, always makes itself known gradually, creeping into the few peaceful moments he gets a day.

He hates it. But he gets used to it.

The place is unnerving at best, terrifying at worst. There is no sound, just the fog drifting through. Sometimes, breathing it in feels like inhaling smoke. Cloying, sticking, and making Leon want to cough it out somehow.

It’s lonely.

(But, each time it happens, Leon feels an odd sense of belonging. Leon’s always been lonely. This place just allows him to truly be alone. Nothing, not one person to bring him back to Earth. Just himself.)

Those thoughts scare Leon more than anything, and he speaks.

---

His dad gets sick.

He’s alone more often than he isn’t.

He drops out of school, works, and takes care of his dad. He’s no longer getting beat, so he spends more time in his room, only coming out every so often to make sure his dad hasn’t hurt himself somehow.

The fog appears more and more.

Leon gets more and more comfortable when it does.

---

He applies for an archiving job. It’s dumb of him, his resume is forged, and he’s positive that man interviewing him knows. His eyes are blue, but they seem wrong, somehow. He can’t for the life of him put his finger on it, though.

He’s surprised, to say the least, when the man, Wesker, that’s his name, offers him the job right there. There’s an amused smile on his face, but Leon is too busy feeling relieved that he wasn’t caught in his lie to notice.

He signs whatever paperwork Wesker gives him but pauses at the very last one. It feels… it feels like a trap. But he needs the job, so he signs it.

Something heavy settles in his soul, but he shrugs the feeling off. He’s thinking about it too much.

---

His coworkers are nice. Especially Chris. Leon is… good with people, he thinks.

(At least, he’s good at reading people. Interacting takes some more time before he can figure out how to hold himself and what jokes he can make. These lessons he’s learned from dealing with his father and other adults. It took a while for him to apply it to people his age.)

Chris, though, makes him feel off-balance. Like he’s been put on stage and asked to perform with no other context. He always feels like he’s doing something wrong around him.

Even with all of that, though, he finds himself feeling a little less lonely.

---

The fog rarely appears nowadays. He’s been dating Chris for a few months and has been introduced to his sister and her friends. The careful guard he had built up over the years had slowly dissolved with the warmth that they showed him. It’s… nice.

It’s nicer when whatever fuckery that was going on in the Archives stops.

Leon has seen a horror too many in that job. Flesh-eating maggots, clones of his friends taking over their life, killer clowns, etc. All of it is gone now.

And that stupid contract? Well, burnt to a crisp, according to Luis.

Good fucking riddance.

---

One of the first lessons he learned with Chris Redfield is that he’s allowed to be vulnerable. He’s allowed to be sad when his dad dies, he’s allowed to be angry at things that happen to him, and he’s allowed to cry when everything gets to be too much.

He’s allowed all that, and even allowed to have Chris hold him when he finally breaks down.

It’s not a lesson he sticks to all the time, but he’s getting better at it.

Plus, with Chris here, he doubts it’ll be one he’s allowed to forget.

He’s kind of happy about that, if he’s being honest.

[markantonys]

Who are your fave characters if gawyn is fifth? What is like your top ten wot characters i yearn to know

[cracks knuckles] all right let's go!

elayne

egwene

rand

mat (show!mat and pre-COT mat only, COT-AMOL mat is dead to me and i would fight him in a parking lot if i could. ACOS-WH mat is also on thin fucking ice. so basically, show!mat and then about 40% of book!mat lmao)

gawyn

i used to put rand above egwene, but i'm riding the high of my season 2 rewatch and so up she goes! to be honest she comes very close to unseating elayne too, but elayne is like.............she just is MY wot character, you know? nobody can unseat her ever.

after that it's more nebulous as we get into "characters whom i love but who do not Make Me Think" territory, as opposed to the above guys whom i'm constantly rotating in my mind. these include aviendha, nynaeve, faile, verin, and loial. my favorite villains are probably lanfear (only thanks to the show), graendal (stealth smartest & most competent forsaken you can't change my mind), and demandred (he's sexy, he's melodramatic to the point of comedy, he has a homoerotic obsession with rand, what more could i ask for in a villain).

i know it's sacrilege to list gawyn higher than the likes of nynaeve and aviendha, i KNOW, but listen, this boy is like a goddamn 24/7 rotisserie chicken in my brain and those two, much as i adore them, just don't have the same ability to occupy so much of my brain real estate. there's also definitely a recency bias at play, because the best portion of nynaeve's story happens in the first half of the series and then she's reduced to a background character in the second half, whereas the best portion of gawyn's story happens during the final 3 books. as for aviendha, it's tough to say because she was SO sorely underused in the books, i genuinely think she might have even less pov across the whole series than gawyn. okay i just looked it up and that is not true, she does have about 10k more words of pov than he does - which, considering that gawyn only even APPEARED in a few pages per book until TGS, is NOT as many more words as should be the case if she hadn't been so underused!

(i also learned that min has the highest pov wordcount after the main 6 (UPDATE: and moiraine, who's the next highest after the main 6 and right above min, although that's if new spring is factored in), which disgusts me, no WONDER i was so constantly pissed off in the second half of the series having to listen to her whine so much! i guess it makes sense she's so high when her sole function in the story is to provide Outsider POV of rand. i'm sure that of her 111k words, 110k of them are about him. i also learned that 50% of AMOL is narrated by non-main-6 characters, and wow, that really explains why emotional investment was so shit during that book. i get wanting to wrap up loose ends with as many characters as possible and trying to show the scale of the last battle by showing what a million different people are doing during it, but we should have spent WAY more than 50% of the final book in the series with our main 6 characters!)

[amphiptere-art]

F it. I don't care if nobody's going to find this interesting. It's a goddamn cool ass thing.

I'm trying to figure out how to make a flying dragon-like creature based on Sharovipteryx. The only problem is that this little strange looking lizard was just a glider.

At first it started as an interesting fantasy idea I wanted to throw a spin on. But the more I drew it the more I wanted to make sure it looked real. I wanted to make sure it functioned. And that's when I went down a rabbit hole.

Not only is there a problem of just having to Make a leg fit into an alien wing like shape. But there's also just the problem that legs as we know them are not made to work like a wing. They have ankles instead of wrists. Something that doesn't have the same amount of motion. And while there's still a lot of rotation to be done with a leg. There's a limited range for a reason. Years of evolution have made it so legs have lost some attributes to support the whole weight of a creature. There's a lot of things that either has to be undone or redone. Which is a whole layer of problems and fun.

While the legs are made of the same sort of stuff. They are built differently through time. The most problematic areas are the fact of the tibia and fibia being thickened. And of course the ankle. You might be asking what about the pelvis? Honestly that's just another ball joint that could easily evolve into another shape. Something that can be easily ignored but the others can't. That ankle and tibia are far too robust. Hard to devolve. The ankle is easier but the tibia is not so easily moved.

The tibia and fibia are in a similar evolutionary shape to the ulna and radius. The difference is that the tibia grew much more robust. The fibia is still there and aids in rotation. But the tibia is just far too large for the fibia to fully rotate (More like twist but it's easier to explain as rotating) around. The ankle bone is basically our wrist bone sort of merged together. It is a collection of bones basically merged together to create a sturdy ball joint/Bone cushion? Point is it's still a wrist and can be disjointed to create a wrist again. Ankle bones have already proven to be pretty diverse. It isn't quite out of the question that something could make an ankle joint move in the way required for flight.

The big problem is that tibia. Plus the extension of the leg joints. A wing does have to twist. Most twisting comes from the ulna and radius. Something that I either have to devolve or replace in a leg. And that's where all the fun and problems come in!

This has been my current Brain rot for a while. And I guess here is my sharing of the absolute brain rot. Something to hopefully get me out of this art block. Idk if it's working. But it's fun. Even if no one else will understand it.

[bunfloras]

You. The little men you're rotating in your mind? Tell me about them.

How does fits time on 2b2t impact how he acts and survives now? Interacts with others? How does it show in how he interacts with Phil or pac, in ways that probably aren't normal but make sense for him.

How does pissa interact that's special and different than everyone else? What makes you hold them so dearly? I want to hear.

How do you see all the shit that's happened affect Phil? How he's changed, how he acts now, how he thinks? Where's your ten page analysis you've scattered across discord dms, forums, and scattered in your brain. Let me hear it. Let me hear everything you die to tell people but nobody asks for

Cause literally they're taking over my brain and you see them in such a similar but different and intricate light so I want to see how you pick them and their brains apart. And please, don't think you have to stick to just these questions, go off about WHATEVER.

i am literally never going to shut up you guys need to stop enabling me

fit is always watching his back. he’s always watching pac’s back. always looking out for ramón. there is not a moment in his life that he isn’t paranoid about losing what he has—he always has to be on his guard. between his past with 2b2t and the pressure of the limited time he has left, he knows that absolutely nothing in his life is promised. at any minute, he could lose what’s precious to him, and he refuses.

it’s so easy for him to lose himself in how he used to be. sometimes he does just let loose—like when he’s protecting his family or taking revenge. he’s not a good man, and he’s never seen himself as one. if pac sees him as one, he’ll do his best not to shatter that image—but it seems like pac doesn’t give a shit whether or not he’s dangerous, so dangerous it is.

i think he worries a lot about accidentally hurting the people he cares about, and particularly about losing their trust. sure, he cares about self preservation. but the world is suddenly a lot scarier when he actually has something to lose. so much of it is disguised in humor but you can hear the way he cares, the way he takes things seriously when everyone else is joking.

as for pissa… god there’s a lot i could say about them. a lot of it for me is the aching loneliness of having someone, but not knowing where you stand with them. the contrast of missa loving so openly and phil being terrified to reciprocate. i think whether he knows it or not, missa being away so much is what keeps phil from taking that step. he’s been alone so long that it is utterly terrifying to be perceived—and even worse is the thought of losing that company once he finally gets used to having someone else at his side.

phil’s brain is way too much to pick at when i’ve already written this much. but trust me i have so many thoughts about the way this man’s brain works, particularly in regard to loneliness

[sciderman]

I don't know if anyone has asked you this, but what are yours, Wade, and Peter's feelings about the stunning and disastrous Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark?

i think it fucks! and if i had the power of time travel the first thing i would do is use it to watch that calamity in person.

freak like me needs company rotates in my mind more than is reasonable. it's almost reached the degree of hold-music for my brain. if im not thinking about anything else i'm thinking about lgbt+ icon green goblin from spider-man turn off the dark

yeah. yeah.

nobody ASKS about it but yeah. the spider-man musical exists in 9319. unfortunately.

[x]

it is, as ever, something wade just likes to torture peter about. and it really is embarrassing, i think. i think peter thinks it's the lamest thing ever and he hates it so soooooooo much. i know he'd hate it so much. whilst wade would be auditioning for a role in it.

[lauronk]

happy birthday to my wonderful amazing friend @bumblepony who i adore more than anything and am so grateful to know and have in my life

this is a bit out of my wheelhouse but i hope i did tommy & maria justice for you, i give you a thousand smooches

hanging on every touch (baby don't rush)

word count: ~1.7k words tags: tommy/maria; romance; first date; kissing; lil bit of lap sitting; tommy being a nervous guy; flirting

Tommy checks his reflection in the mirror for the hundredth time, brushes back a stray piece of hair. He honestly can’t remember the last time he was so nervous that his palms were sweating like this, and he wipes them on his jeans for the third time.

Then again, he can’t remember the last time he liked a woman this much.

He’s been in Jackson for nearly six months now, doing his best to fit in and help out and prove himself worthy of their acceptance here. The settlement is… he can’t think of another word for it but a fucking miracle. A town full of people helping, pulling their weight, nobody dragging someone down to claw their way up. Tommy’d saw his right arm off if they said he had to in order to stay in the walls.

Especially if Maria asked.

He fiddles with the collar of his shirt, wondering if it’s too nice or not nice enough, or if he needs to change his belt buckle. There’d been so many of them collecting dust at the swap; now they lived in neat rows in the top drawer of his dresser, shiny and ready for use. The round silver one he’s wearing, etched with prickly pear cacti, had seemed like the right choice at first but now…well, now that he’s looking at the whole outfit, he thinks he might change it out for another. He’s got a nice galloping horse one, another featuring the outstretched wings of an eagle.

But his fingers wander over the square golden one featuring a longhorn, his favorite. It feels like a little piece of home, of football and tailgating and simpler times gathered around the television with Joel and Sarah.

Hopefully it brings him a little luck today.

A final once-over in the mirror, and then Tommy sucks in a calming breath and makes himself step away from the mirror and towards the front door. He can do this. He used to do it all the time, asking a woman out, being charming and funny, showing them a good time.

But that was nearly twenty years ago, when there were restaurants and bars and shows.

And none of those women even began to compare to Maria Wesley.

She’s off today, Tommy knows that, no council duties or rotations. He may have done a little asking around, may have planned everything out in advance. Stashed a picnic basket in the stables, made sure Justified and Ruffian were both available, cleared the route himself the day before. He thinks Maria’s the type of woman that’ll appreciate a good plan, having that burden lifted from her shoulders for once.

Or he’s completely misread her and she’ll hate it. Only one way to find out now.

Her house is four streets over from his, a two story that she’d shared with her father until he passed away a year or so ago. Tommy jogs up the steps and - before he can chicken out - raps his knuckles on the door.

The seconds stretch into an eternity before it opens, and then Maria’s standing in front of him in jeans and a t-shirt, feet bare and braids gathered in a knot on top of her head. Tommy’s heart skips, thuds, and leaps right up into his throat. Jesus fuck, she’s so beautiful.

“Miller,” she says easily, lips curving up in a smile. “What brings you by?”

What brings you by? Excellent fucking question, since all words and coherent thought seems to have fled his brain.

Tommy clears his throat, wills himself to not fuck this up. “You busy?” The words come out smooth, even, and internally he cheers a little.

Maria’s head tilts, smile growing. “Not at the moment, no.”

Here goes nothing. “Wanna come out on a ride with me?”

Her entire face brightens; a swarm of butterflies lets loose in his stomach. “I’d love to. Give me a minute to get changed?”

“Yeah,” Tommy exhales with a grin, trying to pretend his hands aren’t once again sweating something fierce. “Yeah, alright. I’ll just…be out here.”

Maria nods, the corners of her eyes crinkling slightly, and then the door closes and again and Tommy’s left to mentally run through his plan. It’s nothing fancy, he didn’t wanna come on too strong or push too hard. He definitely doesn’t wanna seem like he’s into her just because she’s one of the people who gets to determine whether he stays or goes, even if he feels pretty firmly lodged in the staying column by this point. He just…really fucking likes her.

And when she emerges again ten minutes later in boots and a light jacket, braids spilling down her back and a bright grin across her lips, Tommy knows he’s well and truly fucked.

–

They never run out of things to talk about. It kind of astounds him really, how easy it is to just chat with her as they ride side by side up towards Flat Creek. Everything from her childhood to his time in the Army, the cases she worked on before the outbreak and how Jackson came to be, his time with the Fireflies and why he left.

The ride itself takes maybe an hour or so before they come to the spot Tommy picked out, a flat stretch of grass along the water that looks out on the plains and rolling hills across from them. He’d come through here on a couple patrols and seen the elk that cantered by; immediately, he’d wanted to show Maria. Never mind that she’s probably seen it a dozen times before - it had seemed to lovely to not share with her.

They settle onto the blanket he spreads across the grass, a small assortment of snacks between them. Jerky, granola, fruits from the greenhouse, cucumber slices, a bit of cheese from the town stores. Anything he’d thought Maria would like, Tommy had tried to provide.

“Y’know,” Maria says, teasing lilt to her voice and her eyes on the swaying grass ahead of them, “I was wondering if you were ever gonna get up the nerve to do this.”

Tommy laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “That obvious, huh?”

She shrugs and leans back, her weight on her hands. “A little. I was kind of worried I was only seeing what I wanted to see, you know.”

He tries not to grin, tries to pretend that doesn’t make him as happy as it does. He used to be so much better at playing it cool, damnit. “What you wanted to see, huh?”

She rolls her eyes, still grinning. “You heard me.” And then before Tommy can blink Maria’s up on her knees, swinging a denim-clad leg over his thighs so she’s seated comfortably in his lap, thighs on either side of his. “Here’s the thing, Miller –” and boy does he like it when she last-names him “– in this fucked up world we’re in, I don’t really believe in wasting time or beating around the bush.”

Tommy can’t help but snort, hands coming up to wrap carefully around her hips and pull her a little closer. “I get the feeling, ma’am,” he clocks the way her eyes flutter at that, “that you didn’t believe in wasting time or beating around the bush even before the world went to shit.”

Her lips purse as though thinking his words over, and he can’t help it - he leans forward, just a little, lured in by her like he has been damn near every day since she sat across from him at the clinic and laid out the rules for living in Jackson.

Maria catches the movement, smirking, and she leans in a little too, close enough that it feels like her words are slipping from her mouth to his. “And you’d be right.” She closes the distance between them, soft lips pressing against him as her hands snake up from his shoulders to tangle in his hair, and thank the good Lord above he’d showered and washed it before this.

“You know,” Tommy manages when she’s pulled back just a fraction, chest rising and falling rapidly, “I don’t normally do this on the first date, I try to be more of a gentleman.”

Maria laughs, the vibrations of it rumbling into his own chest, her nose brushing his. “Liar,” she murmurs, before erasing the distance between them once more.

He’s careful with his own hands, even as the feeling of her settled above him with her braids falling forward like a curtain between them and the world threatens to undo his already fraying self-control. Fingertips dig into the meat of her hips before sliding up to wrap around her ribs and hoist her even closer to him, the barest graze along the side of her breast having her gasping against his mouth and he leans forward again, chasing the sound –

A twig snaps behind them and Tommy moves automatically, shifting to put Maria behind him, one hand reaching to the pistol on the blanket by his hip.

But it’s just patrol on the other side of the creek, Fred pointedly looking at the sky and Selina winking at them. Tommy flushes, Maria lifting her hand in an easy wave.

“Wrap it before you tap it!” Selina hollers across, nudging her horse into a canter to catch up with a rapidly fleeing Fred. “You kids have fun!”

“Jesus Christ,” Tommy chuckles, his head falling forward until it rests on Maria’s collarbone. “Damn near gave me a heart attack.”

“You and me both.” Her hand resumes its lazy wandering through the hair at the nape of his neck, and Tommy bites back a quiet moan. “Maybe we oughta be moving this…somewhere else.” The suggestion in her tone is unmistakable, and his hands tighten with the urge to pull her close all over again. Instead he pulls back, tilts his chin up to look her in the eyes.

“If you’re sure…”

She doesn’t hesitate, pushing to her feet and holding her hands out to help pull him up as well. Her arms wrap around his neck, lips finding his one more time. “I’m sure,” Maria says, no hesitation in the words.

And well - how in the hell could he ever tell her no?

happy birthday girly i hope you have the best day ever!!

find all my ficlets on ao3 and tumblr

[stiffyck]

Stiff stiff stiff stiff hi. Ok. Coming off of anon for this one bc the brainrot is too much ANYWAYS I was sending tcd asks like last week??? Idk ANYWAYS I JUST FINISHED WATCHING SECRET LIFE THE OTHER DAY AND I HAVE SOOOOOO SOOO MANY THOUGHTS. So many thoughts about TCD Scar and Secret life Scar. And also some of the things Martyn was saying about Scar lore-wise. I’m actually gonna put a few quotes from Martyn here about it:

“That [the end of secret life] was probably the beginning of a really horrible sort of descent into madness for Scar”

“Can you just imagine how distraught and how upset Scar is at just whacking that success button over and over and every time: ‘Win Secret Life’ ‘Win Secret Life’ ‘Win Secret Life’ just over and over and over again”

“Wanting it to either end for himself or for a new game to begin, like he is so deep in that loneliness and being left in a wasteland that he would rather either die or go into another death game — he doesn’t want to be alone”

Ok end of quotes here. I am just thinking SOOOO HARD ABOUT THIS OUGSHSH. I’ve been rotating this in my head for like 3 days now. First of all, like the whole secret keepers/watchers CONSTANTLY giving Scar tasks that end up isolating him from the rest of the server in a way (kind of like they know that loneliness hits Scar much harder than the others and they’re doing it on purpose to break him early on in the game), and then Scar building up those big deep slate walls around most of his base to physically keep people out (and even if it doesn’t keep people out physically, it’s still more or less reflects his mental state and how he’s treating everyone around him), and the whole sneaking around everyone and flitting between groups without committing himself because he knows (EVEN THOUGH HE TALKS ABOUT WANTING FRIENDS) that his best bet is to take advantage of having connections without actually getting attached to anyone (kind of like maybe he’s learned somewhere before that isolation is the best route for survival). GOD HES JUST LIVING RENT FREE IN MY BRAIN AAUGGHH. Also Scar just eventually accepting that he’s going to be isolated no matter what, and giving into what the tasks want him to be. BUT ABOVE ALL OF THAT. Him being surprised that he even won in the first place????

“How’d the guy with no friends win?”

And just being legitimately shocked that he actually came out on top and managed to survive everything. It’s like, even though he knew that not having any true connections gave him the best opportunity for survival he was STILL surprised to have made it out alive in the end. And back to what Martyn said about him being stuck there alone, just losing himself to madness because there’s nobody left but himself. it’s just like being back where he started again, utterly alone with no way out and nobody left to help him, and that he would rather be dead or living through another death game than be completely alone again. ok I’m done lol I am so sorry for going on that enormous ramble in your inbox HRJSKF :’)

HELLO YES YES THIS IS EXCELLENT. YES.

This reminds me of an au I made relating to my immortal scar hc where Scar gets stuck in 3rd life and everyone forgets him. Only the winner, Grian, remembers him and he remembers that Scar is supposed to be another hermit-

But this. Right.

Scar is the only one who didn't die at the end. So I can imagine him slowly going mad and maybe he's secretly hoping that maybe... maybe someone will come back for him. Someone will come save him, right?

But why would they. He was the villain after all. Even if not of his own volition- he was still a villain and he deserves this.

But imagine if the others forgot about him. If he just got erased from their memories basically.

Man.

Anyway yea Martyns lore for Scar is insane rigkrkgkfkg I love this sm thank you for that ramble I home my own ramble makes sense. Very random but i should be sleeping anyway

[mariegoos]

Tell me about your three favorite OCs using as many tumblr buzzwords as possible 👀

OK this is harder than I anticipated lol sorry I did this to you.

Lin is my top blorbo, my babygirl who I spend hours rotating in my mind. She is a sopping wet pathetic mess who is just doing her best. If you look at her wrong she'll kill you. She doesn't know what she wants and is generally a bisexual bigender disaster. Does everything wrong, God's favorite mistake.

Wei-Shan is my horse plinko of the bunch. Nobody likes him and he's eating it up at all times. If anyone's going to get Cask of Amontillado'd it's him. He likes the color of the sky and will ask everyone he meets.

Guotin is the dilf himbo Supreme. Men want him women want to be him. Not a thought in his head at any given time. Shares a single brain cell with Lin. However, he is an expert in color theory and WILL employ it in children's hospitals.

Anyway turning this into a mutuals quiz and tagging @facetsofthecloset next peace and love on the planet earth