#i know okay anon lmao

[theharrowing]

if you want more followers write more jungkook!

iF yOu WaNt MoRe FoLLoWeRs WriTe MoRe JuNgKoOk

[stupidlittlespirit]

FUCK this blog was created solely to drive me up the wall I’m convinced. read through those two other anonymous asks like it was the morning newspaper now I’m trapped thinking about ford both being edged so much that he’s reduced to a begging mess, one of the rarer circumstances where he’s not very composed - and then also having him looking up at you with so much earnest trust and a candidly relaxed disposition. mmmm edging him but being sincerely sweet to him through it, kissing his forehead and urging him in a honeyed voice “just hold out for a little longer, honey”

My master plan is working, I'm driving you all to madness and draining your life force.

God.

He'd stare up at Reader, all glassy-eyed and disoriented, hair ruffled and flushed pink, glasses askew as he tried to catch his breath, and then he'd beg.

Softly, barely audible, but just enough for you to hear.

He'd ask politely; a few quiet little please's until you encouraged gently for him to say it louder and then he'd do as requested and speak up. He'd address you with whatever preferred title or moniker you have and then ask again "please, just let me, please," and you'd deny him because of course you would.

And you'd smile when he made the same sound he always does when he gets despondent in this position: that soft, borderline-devastated sob in the back of his throat. His brows would knit together, upturned in despair, and he'd groan, but you'd both know how much he was enjoying himself.

You'd know because once he'd gotten done playing up his agony, once you'd soothed him and cooed over him, stroked his hair and kissed his face and told him how lovely he was, his expression would melt into a look of absolute devotion.

He'd stare up at you with those big, dark eyes and his faux-upset would dissolve into an expression of such utter trust and tenderness that you'd have to take a moment to check that your heart hadn't seized up and stopped.

And then, because you're a soft touch when it comes to him, you'd let him have his release and you'd commit every sound and moment to memory as he let go.

[separatist-apologist]

How do you keep boundaries and find balance around your fandom experience?

I feel so bad saying this bc everyone is so nice but I feel pressure to keep up with and promote mutuals’ work and its starting to burn me out from being able to write

I hear this all the time and maybe this is the depression talking but oh man I want to respond to this.

People write SO. FAST. Can you imagine if I got angry every time one of my mutuals didn't reblog/comment/read one of my fics? I'd have no mutuals, no friends, nothing at all. Like at some point you have to trust your mutuals are actually your friends and they're not going to get upset if you don't hype every project they do.

And if they DO get upset, well...thats a reciprocal relationship built on a foundation of weeds and if it can crumble so easily, were you ever actually friends/mutuals at all? I know this is common in fandom spaces and I talk to people all the time who are like, so-and-so doesn't interact with me anymore since I didn't review/read/WHATEVER their last fic and I'm always like. Couldn't be me.

There are a million fics I'd like to read and a million more I'm 10+ chapters behind on. It's just not possible. And I think about like...me and @ablogofsapphicpanic who has only read the fics I've written FOR her. We talk every single day about everything and nothing at all. Or me and @the-lonelybarricade who spent so much time beta-ing for each other that if you went through our work during that time period, you'd probably find SO much overlap in our phrasing/structuring/whatever else. It was never a conscious decision to stop, just kind of a mutual recognition we were busy with our own things but were supporting the other (loudly!) from the sidelines.

My POINT is that this is your hobby! And of course engagement is important- we should hype up our mutuals whenever possible, and read their excellent work because we like what they do. And I think its okay to free yourself from the pressure of trying to do ALL of it, all of the time.

[lxvi-gloria]

Drabble Prompt: Post-canon Levi, struggling with chronic pain and mourning his dead loved ones, being visited by his still alive loved ones

Anon, you knew how to talk pretty to me <3

hihi requests are still open btw

I feel like I gotta put a disclaimer or something lmao. So, the length of my drabble requests is usually something between 100-400 words. This request is just an incredibly unexpected exception. it just happened to fit into this idea I already had been thinking of, which was how the remaining 104th would ask Levi to be part of important events in their lives because well, they like the dude lmao, so expect that sort of one-shot soon. Additionally, since I kept reminding myself that this was supposed to be a drabble, I might have glossed over the chronic pain and mourning bits so I'm sorry about that ;;

that being said, 2.4k words of Levi and Gabi be upon ye <3

Now on Ao3!

The angry hissing of the kettle makes him flinch. It brings a loud ringing to his right ear. Instinctively, he places his right hand over it, and gives his ear a couple of gentle taps; it's more of a grounding gesture, a distraction from the buzzing. He usually keeps watch over the kettle, so that he can lower the heat just right before it gets a chance to scream at him. 

He realises then that he must have spaced out while waiting. It’s alright, he thinks. It’s been like that a lot, recently. He’s been like that. Lost in thought-- lost in time, if he allowed himself to be precise. The last days, weeks even, as the temperatures started to drop, blended into each other. There’s a little calendar on his bedside table, it had been a birthday gift from Armin – or had that been Mikasa’s? He isn’t sure, he had received an absurd number of presents from the kids last year, it had been hard to keep track of who gave him what and now the fact escaped him. Turning the pages of the little calendar, with its delicate botanical illustrations on each day, quickly became part of his morning routine, and so he was sure that time was passing at all. The stillness of the routine, he guesses, made him like this.

His vision blurs momentarily while he scoops the tea leaves into the teapot. He squints, trying to will his good eye to focus, but all he gets in return is a throb in his right eye. After putting the tea canister away, he presses the inner sides of his wrists to both eyes, placing just enough pressure to relieve the discomfort. When he opens his eyes again, he is pleased to find he can read the small print on the canister an arm’s length away. 

There’s a loud slam coming from the front of the house, followed by footsteps coming further into the house.

He quickly recognizes the heavy stomping as Gabi’s gait. She’s always been so loud.

Gabi crosses the arch into the small kitchen and dining area. 

“Don’t slam my doors,” he says as a greeting, slowly turning his head to his left side, trying to catch a glimpse of her in his periphery.

“Aye, aye,” the kid waves her hand, shoots him a teasing grin, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Levi hums in response but doesn’t say anything else. He busies himself with placing everything they need for their morning tea and coffee on a metal tray on the counter, which Gabi takes from him as soon as it’s ready and sets it on the table.

He grabs his cane from where he had hooked it on one of the kitchen drawers. He has been leaning against the counter, his right leg supporting most of his weight all this time. He braces himself for the sharp pain that will surely surge from his bad knee, through his left hip and up his spine. Cold mornings like this one and being still in one place for long will do that to him. It’s not so bad. It could be worse.

It takes 4 steps to get from the stove to his chair, which Gabi has already pulled out for him. It sits at an angle that allows him to easily slide down on it and rest his right elbow on top of the table, leaning back and against his good side.

“I have something that will cheer you up,” she holds a couple of envelopes in her hand and waves them at him, “You’ve got mail!”

He nods at her in acknowledgement but does not take his attention away from preparing his first batch of tea of the day. There’s a ritual to it, it almost feels like, and he doesn’t want to mess it up. Not when the ringing in his ear is still there, the building pressure in the upper back part of his eyeballs, and the cold air seeping into his bones through his thick jumper. Oh, how he needs a good cup of tea right now.

While Levi waits for it to steep, he grabs the papers that she had shoved in his face, squints his eyes at the first envelope and finds that he is unable to make out much of the handwriting. He brings it closer to his face, squints harder, steals a quick glance across the table and hopes Gabi isn’t paying him any mind, too preoccupied with choosing from the bag of pastries she brought with her. It is with an impassive expression that he hands the stack of envelopes back. 

“Read it for me.” A beat and then he adds, a little reluctant: “Please.”

He knows Gabi prefers coffee in the mornings, and black tea in the evenings, so he makes sure to have a fresh brew of the former whenever he knows she’s coming over; so, with shaky hands, Levi gets to prepare her cup of coffee. While he enjoys the aroma of it, he remains faithful to tea; at first, he thought he didn’t like it because he had butchered his first attempts at brewing it. But even after Onyankopon had taught him how to do it properly and he had enjoyed his cup, it didn’t bring the same comfort as tea. It just never hit the spot.

She shoots him a mischievous grin, “Oh, you sure? What if I read something personal, hm?” 

Levi just shakes his head, scoffing at the idea of Gabi finding his junk mail fascinating.

“Is this how I find out you have a secret lover you’re exchanging raunchy love letters with?” Gabi teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He lets out a tired sigh and rolls his eyes, “just wanna be done with it, ” he stirs the milk into Gabi’s coffee, which now has turned into a cup of milk with coffee. “We have a lot to prepare for tonight.”

She clicks her tongue at him, but still rips the first envelope open, “Mr. Levi, your reading won’t improve if you keep doing that,” she jokingly scolds him.

Although Levi mentally recognises handing her and Falco stuff he couldn’t be bothered reading before, that’s not the case this time. He’ll let her think that for now, though, because he doesn’t want to mention the pressure building in the back of his bad eye, it’s not important and she, a kid, doesn’t need to know his newly found ailment of the week. He can see just fine around him right now. He can see Gabi’s big eyes and playful smile at the other side of the table, and that’s good enough; smaller details, he doesn’t feel he can do them, not without making himself go dizzy with a migraine.

Levi slides the cup of coffee to her and is pleased with himself when she approves of the colour of her drink.

“It’s from Armin,” she announces as she scans the letter. 

From this angle, the soft morning light illuminating her face and thanks to his faulty vision, Gabi’s image stirs his memory. His heart faintly constricts as he is reminded of the many times Hange read their research reports to him during breakfast in the mess hall before presenting them to Erwin. Levi always wondered how they could read so fast, sometimes he even doubted they were actually reading at all, their words barely being able to catch up with her eyes; he never asked about it, maybe reading came easy to them as numbers did to him.

A high-pitched squeal from Gabi startles him, bringing him back to the here and now.

“Oh… ohh, Mr. Levi,” she starts, her smile widening by the second “This is good news!”

Gabi makes a show of clearing her throat and then starts reading “Dear Captain, I hope this letter finds you well and in good health.” 

Levi can’t help but let a sardonic huff at the irony of the greetings but doesn’t let himself be bothered by it. He has written only a handful of personal letters throughout his life, and by now he knows it’s just something you’re supposed to say because jumping straight to the point isn’t acceptable, or so that’s what he had been told. 

Gabi continues reading Armin’s words to him. For the most part, it’s a standard letter coming from him: he asks Levi how he’s dealing with the changing of the seasons, how Gabi and Falco are faring, if business at the tea shop has been good, if there’s anything Levi needs that he can’t get in town so that Armin or the others can get it for him. He tells him a little about the country he’s writing from, he even includes a photograph. Then, after the expected pleasantries, Gabi can barely hold her excitement and starts reading faster, trying so hard not to trip over her words.

“If I’m being sincere, we would prefer to ask you in person,” Gabi stops for a second to look up at him from the paper, gauging for a reaction and finding nothing, she continues. 

Armin apologises for not being able to visit him before the holidays, Annie included, and so it is implied that he won’t be attending tonight’s reunion. 

Sometime during the last five years, the Alliance brats had decided to make showing up at Levi’s doorstep together once a year a sort of custom; the first time it happened was during an early winter, a blizzard had stopped them from leaving Levi’s until the next morning. It had been a really nice evening despite the awful weather, Levi remembers, after everyone pitched in one way or another, they all shared a simple but hearty meal together. It was Connie who jokingly said they should do it every year. The following year, Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco joined them. 

This year would be their fourth, and the first someone wouldn’t make it. That fact sits heavily in Levi’s chest, stealing the spotlight from his throbbing eye.

“...Annie and I have decided to get married. The both of us would like you to officiate our ceremony!” unable to contain her excitement, she tears her eyes away from the paper and looks at Levi. “Huh?! This is good news! What’s with the constipated face?!”

That doesn’t sound right. It figures that Annie and Armin would be the first to marry; in a way, he is happy for them, they clearly care for each other. No, that part is easy to understand. Their union is logical to anyone who knows the couple. What Levi can’t figure out is why they are asking him such a thing.

He clears his throat, assumes it’s been 3 minutes and his tea is ready to be poured and so he distracts himself with that.

When he doesn’t answer Gabi, she picks up where she left off. 

He isn’t… well, he isn’t that close to either of them. He’s sure Annie must have other relatives that could step in his stead. Maybe a brother, a cousin. Even Jean or Reiner would be better options than Levi. He isn’t good with words or people like they are, he couldn’t possibly give them a speech about something foreign to him as it is that kind of love, that’s what people expect, right? His title of Captain is obsolete in this new world, so it can’t be that either. Hell, he has never been to a fucking wedding. 

Just… why him?

As expected, Armin doesn’t really go into the details of their choice but does let Levi know they do not expect a fast answer and that they do not want him to feel pressured to accept it, despite how much it would mean to them if he did. Armin asks if there’s anything in particular that he would like for his birthday, as it is a month away, and closes the letter by saying he looks forward to seeing him and everyone then.

When the letter is closed and put back into its envelope, silence falls around them. For a moment the only sound that can be heard is the clinking of tableware as Levi places the teacup back on its saucer.

It bothers him, that he knows he will be letting Armin down by refusing something that any other well-adapted person would consider an honour. But the thought of embarrassing him and himself, because he gave an awkward, most likely insensitive, speech, mortifies him. No, he can’t put them and their guests through that. He will find a way to make it up to the couple, maybe he can… he doesn’t know yet, but he will come up with something.

As he finishes his first cup, Levi realises that at some point while he was lost in thought, the ringing in his ear has subsided and now it’s back to that muffled, cotton-in-ear sensation he’s used to and he doesn’t feel his eyeball pulsating anymore. Glancing at Gabi, he notices she is trying really hard not to say something, her brow furrowed as she takes a sip of her own drink, followed by a big bite of her pastry. Flakes stick to the corner of her mouth and for once it doesn’t disgust him. Instead, it makes his lips twitch as if going into a smile.

“I can help you... if you want,” she says eventually, sounding uncharacteristically careful and small of her.

Levi quirks an eyebrow “Help? with what?” 

She shrugs, “How to… tell them you don’t want to,” she avoids looking at him for the first time, finding the flakes on her plate more interesting. She shrugs again and tilts her head to the side, a thin line of a smile appearing on her face. “...or prepare for the ceremony.”

Not unlike many times before, Gabi’s words render him speechless, if only for a moment. He spares his tea a glance and he thinks: it’s bold of her to be so upfront about offering her help to him, and had it been any other morning, one where he couldn’t think past the constant ache in his body, he would’ve chewed her head off for simply trying to help him because he himself doesn’t know how to accept that kindness.

This kid is trying her best and he can’t help but feel somewhat proud of that.

“You have shit on your face. Here,” he points to where the flakes would sit on his own face and picks his refilled teacup back up.

Gabi quickly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, getting most of the flakes off. Levi gives her a thumbs-up with his free hand.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally concedes and tries to ignore the little happy dance she does in her seat.

This time, when the amber liquid touches his lips, it’s remarkably sweeter than before.

[themiraclefish]

Draw them like hormonal teens!

Hormonal teens? Like teenager right? lol i hope i got it right XD

.

.

Anyways here ya go (⁠｢⁠`⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)⁠｢

Teen Gabriel and Nathalie👨‍🎤👩‍🎤

Aaaa!! My first ever "ask request" jwjskwkskskkw

[springtrappd]

I wish you tagged Vanessa separately from Vanny. I don’t care about the rabbit just the white woman inside her

if you can't handle her at her worst (trauma-induced forcefursona representing both the worst parts of her life and freest parts of herself) then you don't deserve her at her best (slouched in an armchair rocking the sluttiest butch fit possible and knocking back a can of chuhai while affectionately heckling gregory from across the room)

[nebulations]

Fish, 7 (For your prompts! ❤️)

Hi, anon!! Thank you for the prompt, you were the very first one to send one in! 7 was, again, the wildcard, so I randomly generated a different number to land on Yue Qingyuan (from Scum Villain)! I have no choice but to dedicate this to @bytedykes, because I told her about this prompt and she said “yqy pet fish mental health speedrun” and we went, uh, a little insane about it. Enjoy some yuefang, folks!!!!

“Mu-xiong,” Yue Qingyuan says. “I’m sorry to bother you. Are you available?”

“Yue-xiong is never a bother,” Mu Qingfang says warmly. “And I am, actually, yes. Is everything okay, Yue-xiong?”

“I think I need help.” A bit dramatic, perhaps, and Yue Qingyuan hates to trouble Mu Qingfang on a rare day off, but Yue Qingyuan and impulse have never been the best combination, and he would appreciate a second opinion.

Mu Qingfang’s voice turns hard. “Where are you? I'll come right away.”

“What—?” Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone like the blank call screen will tell him why Mu Qingfang suddenly sounds so serious. “I'm at home, but—”

“I'll be right there,” Mu Qingfang says, and hangs up.

Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone for another second, then lifts his gaze to his sparkling new aquarium. His new betta, white and black and resplendent of fin, stares back. Was his crisis of faith about his viability as a fish owner really so deserving of such urgency…?

—

“So,” Mu Qingfang says. “This was your emergency?” He looks about as unimpressed by the betta as it does by the two of them.

Yue Qingyuan feels obscurely like he’s being scolded. Mu Qingfang is one of the nicest men he knows, but that just means that his censure takes the form of a blunt instrument of mass disappointment.

“In my defense,” he points out meekly, “I didn’t say there was an emergency. Mu-xiong just assumed.”

“That’ll teach me,” Mu Qingfang huffs, but at least he looks amused. “Yue-xiong should get used to asking for help more so this gege doesn’t have to panic every time he does ask.”

Yue Qingyuan’s mouth almost drops open. He can only hope his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “Er—well, I asked this time, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Mu Qingfang allows, looking something horribly close to fond. Yue Qingyuan swallows and tries to hurry on.

“So—not an emergency, but I do want your opinion,” he coughs out. “I’m having… doubts. About the fish.” Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows contract. Yue Qingyuan rushes it out. “Do you think I should keep it?”

“Yue-xiong…” Mu Qingfang looks politely incredulous. “Why does my opinion matter? The fish is already yours, isn’t it? If you don’t think maintaining its upkeep will be feasible, that’s one thing, but… Surely Yue-xiong did the research before getting it?”

He doesn’t sound judgemental, but Yue Qingyuan feels his cheeks warm. “I did, but I wasn’t planning on getting a fish; I was only admiring the tanks. There was a salesperson who was… very insistent.”

Mu Qingfang regards him doubtfully, which is fair. Yue Qingyuan towers over most people he meets, and his bulk only further adds to the impression of immovability. It’s only when he opens his mouth that it becomes clear how spineless he actually is.

Yue Qingyuan falters. “I had thought… I thought it might be nice.” The bettas had seemed so majestic in their tanks, iridescent monarchs of false grass and plastic coves, and Yue Qingyuan had thought, wildly, that one might be rewarding to keep, might breathe a touch of life into his immaculately sleek living room. The whole affair hadn’t even been expensive by his shiny new standards, forget difficult to physically arrange. It was only when installation and set-up for his new aquarium had finished and he was left to watch that jewel-bright being swim disaffectedly through its new home that doubt had seized him, all-consuming and black. He had, admittedly, panicked a little after that.

(Yue Qingyuan’s apartment is very large, and very clean, and very empty. It holds the barest amount of decoration and muss to qualify as lived-in rather than a snapshot from a magazine ad. The fish may, in fact, be the only thing in the entire place which really qualifies as his. No wonder Yue Qingyuan wanted to jettison it from his life as soon as he got it.)

Mu Qingfang’s expression hovers between concern and simple confusion. “I’m sure Yue-xiong will be a more than adequate caretaker,” he says, more gently than Yue Qingyuan and all his neuroses probably deserve. “What’s this really about, Yue-xiong?”

Ah. There it is. Being the mildest person of Yue Qingyuan’s admittedly sharp-tongued social circle doesn’t preclude Mu Qingfang’s wit from being as keen as the scalpels he works with.

“I don’t…” Yue Qingyuan falters. How to express to Mu Qingfang how manifestly unfit Yue Qingyuan is to care for any living creature at all? He changes tack. “I think he hates me,” he admits dolefully.

Mu Qingfang stares at him for a long time, long enough to imply that he’s reevaluating certain opinions about Yue Qingyuan’s intelligence. “Yue-xiong, with all due respect to your new pet—it’s a fish.”

“Fish have emotions!” Yue Qingyuan argues. He flushes at the volume at which it comes out, and at the way Mu Qingfang’s eyes go wide-eyed in startlement. But the salesperson had been very insistent about that, as well. “Bettas are intelligent animals. They dislike certain colors, apparently, and they’re very sensitive—ah, to environmental disruptions, that is. And—”

Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows are still high, but his face has relaxed into a smile. “It sounds to me like you like it quite a bit already. Isn’t that reason enough to keep it?” His tone curls with sudden mischief. “Have heart, Yue-xiong—you’ve hardly known each other for a day! Give it time to adjust to you, and I’m sure you’ll win it over as surely as you do everyone else.” And he grins, sure and easy in his trust that Yue Qingyuan won’t fumble and shatter something so small and monumental as a life that he could cup in his palms.

While Yue Qingyuan is still dazed by that, Mu Qingfang’s eyes alight with interest. “Ah, Yue-xiong—what have you named it?”

“...”

Mu Qingfang’s face falls as devastatingly as it had lit up. “Yue-xiong…”

“Mu-xiong is aware that I was unsure of whether or not I’d keep him!” Yue Qingyuan is terribly aware that his ears are now heating up to match his cheeks. Mu Qingfang’s ensuing laughter does not help with that matter.

Yue Qingyuan is not very good at holding onto things. More often than not, he makes a mess of whatever he’s set his clumsy hands to, lets it fall right through his scarred fingers. But Mu Qingfang’s words ring through his head: Isn’t that reason enough to keep it? And, well, isn’t it? Surely Yue Qingyuan is adult enough to follow through on this. Maybe happiness can be look like his new betta swimming up to the tank to observe the new colorful form moving in front of it, can come as easy as Mu Qingfang quipping that his knowledge about fish is clearly lacking and vowing casually to read up on bettas to be a better fish uncle.

Yue Qingyuan buries a smile and walks over to let Mu Qingfang know that bettas can be trained to follow fingers around. The betta’s clear preference for Mu Qingfang over Yue Qingyuan is as good a marker of intelligence as any fun fact the pet shop worker could have given him. Yes, Yue Qingyuan thinks with a smile—he thinks he’ll be keeping this after all.

[deoidesign]

Hii! I have been recently getting more and more obsessed with your art and webcomic and was wondering if I could use your art as like a profile picture? (With credit!!) If not that's perfectly fine! :)

yeah you can use my art for whatever as long as you're not stealing it or selling it

I don't mind if people print my art out for themselves either. I do sell prints, but it doesn't bother me either way

In general I don't post anything that I haven't made my peace with all that comes with sharing my art publicly! So feel free to use it as you please pretty much.

Giving me credit for the things I've made is respectful and helps me in my career, and I would hope that most people intend to respect my work... And the people who don't respect my work were never going to whether I asked or not.

I make my work for other people to enjoy it, I want you to enjoy it!

[itsmespicaa]

Thank you for explaining more about the Lambo twins from other continuities! :D it's a treat to read and understand more about how they are in other continuities since I'm only familiar with the basic characteristics of them and now I have another question since you seem to know a lot about them but do you have hcs about them in general and perhaps any relationships hcs (I don't mean just romantic ones) they could have with other characters besides each other. I'm familiar with sunstreaker being a gladiator and artist in one part and sideswipe being a trader and racer something like that in another lol sorry if this is a long ask 😅

hey no need to apologize!! i love getting long asks like these hehe because they let me yap about them<3 and it makes me happy to know that i got to tell you more about them in other continuities!! It's just really fascinating how different they are

alright so honestly I tend to hyperfixate more on the relationship between the siblings BUT...I do have some thoughts regarding their relationship with other characters specifically in TF One (I'm gonna limit it to this continuity bc I'm still brainrotting over it for my fic lmao).

Ironhide: He's one of the older miners (not the oldest tho) who's been taking care of his fellow miners, delegating himself to stay in the fifth tier even though he's capable of being promoted bc he much preferred being able to oversee his friends closer and acting as a mentor figure. This includes that brat Sunstreaker who always seems to get himself into trouble and his twin Sideswipe, the two constantly bickering and needing to be separated at times which is where he comes in. He's one of the few bots Sunstreaker consider as a friend (or acquaintances at best) and one of the very few who can occasionally get through Sunstreaker's thick skull.

Ratchet: A freshly graduated medic from Iacon who spends a lot of his free time in his private clinic near the miners' barracks to get away from the stuffy upper class bots and their demands. He ended up patching Sunstreaker a lot due to his tendency to get into fights with other bots in the ring or simply the unavoidable mining accidents the supervisors seem to love putting him into. Sunstreaker would slowly grow less wary of him and even open up, but due to Ratchet's duties at his actual work in the Iacon Hospital, he couldn't always be there for them either. But he tries, and that's hopefully enough.

Arcee: Sideswipe and Arcee go way back, having met each other the first day they came online after their medical check up. They hit it off instantly, and with their teamwork flawless and efficient, they were also almost always assigned to the same team. They're best friends in the most literal sense possible, always having each other's back and hanging out together after work, sometimes alongside others like Red Alert, Ironhide and Firestar. Post-war, the two continued to fight side by side on the front lines, especially after the twins were separated into different divisions.

Bluestreak: Sunstreaker was the last person anyone would want to wilingly approach but...Bluestreak did for some reason. He would ramble and Sunstreaker would listen, and that's pretty much their dynamic whenever they do see each other. He and Sideswipe weren't particularly close but they hit it off easily, not to mention their love for playing games. His nervous chattiness and tendency to ramble didn't bother either of the twin, and he cherishes the friendship they have.

Smokescreen: Sideswipe wasn't one to refuse a challenge, especially if it meant having the chance to double his money...even if it meant losing his credits in one (or a couple of) Smokescreen's gambling dens. Sunstreaker on the other hand would much rather spend his meager credits on his cleaning solvents and art supplies...but Sides would sometimes manage to get him to lend a few of his credits when he's dry. He always made sure he paid them back though (or else).

Red Alert: He and Sideswipe apparently shared the same mold during the forging of their bodies, and their mutual friends even joked that they were siblings due to their competitive streaks at the arcades (Red Alert always won tho). Red Alert's paranoid streak was a bit annoying to Sideswipe, but it did come in handy whenever he had to sneakily pull of a prank, knowing that Red would alert him before any supervisors would come anywhere near him.

D-16: Neither Sunstreaker nor Sideswipe were close to D-16 and Orion Pax, but D-16 had something in common with Sunstreaker, and that was having a tough plating that could withstand more than the average bot. D-16 was on the quiet side just like Sunstreaker, but unlike D-16 who would obey the rules and stay silent when their supervisors would shout at them, Sunstreaker could not care less and tend to do the barest minimum required of him, not quite snarking back but anyone could see he did not give a damn. They were rarely put together in a team but when they did, they would simply leave each other be. Post-Megatron...Sunstreaker wondered who would've won back then had they fought each other in the underground rings.

Mirage: Post-war, Sunstreaker would end up at some point in the same squadron as Mirage in Spec-Ops under Jazz's lead. Their relationship at the start is rocky at best due to their clashing personalities, especially with Mirage being a cogged bot from the start compared with Sunstreaker who used to be a miner, their former class difference causing tension to build around them, the two refusing to trust each other and making Jazz's life miserable with the in-fighting. But after a certain incident, they would be forced to learn to trust one another and maybe even warm up to each other.

There's definitely more but I'll leave it at that for now ahaha I hope this is more than enough! If you have any questions about someone in particular feel free to send me another ask ;D

[bitethedevil]

Not about Raphael! If my ex is now going out with my friend is it it weird? I can’t understand why people say it’s fucked up situation..

Again, this is a Raphael thirst blog 😭 But I think it’s very sweet that you value my thoughts like that.

[feelin-peachy-keen]

🎃 Spooky Season 🎃

[taylortruther]

.

[collectivecloseness]

Oohh for the spotify thing, how about 20 with Eddie Munson??

Literally a great pick, and again another on my character playlist for this specific person. It’s Cherry Bomb by The Runaways!

Eddie Munson x reader

Eddie always drove you back after school, no matter if you were going to his place, yours, or anywhere else in Hawkins. Walking hand in hand with you through the corridors as you both chucked your bags in his van and managed to leave that shithole behind, and go somewhere for the rest of the day no one would bother Eddie, or the both of you.

Today Eddie had finished taking you out for a milkshake, conveniently the both of you taking long enough to finish that by the time you got back to Eddie’s trailer, you’d both be able to say a quick bye to Wayne before his shift, and it meant you had the entire place to yourselves. As you did most evenings... and nights when you could find an excuse, or sneak out.

Although you had to pick up some stuff from your place before you could go over to Eddie’s, so he was driving there first. Hoping that you’d both stop off at another perfect time, one where there was already food on the table, that your mom always encouraged Eddie to have some of.

He really did like your mom, mostly at first because she always liked him too. She never treated him differently, or bad, even from the start. She literally welcomed Eddie into her home with open arms, giving him a hug that first time she met him, probably because of how much you’d raved about how wonderful Eddie was before.

And Eddie was pestering you about if you knew what your mom was making tonight, and if she might have already made it by the time they get there, when it reminded you of something you forgot to tell Eddie this morning.

“Oh actually, my mom and I were talking about you last night.” You nodded from the passenger seat.

Eddie stopped asking about food, intrigued, turning to you with an expression that was inviting into a full conversation, interested as he let his eyes go back to the road. “Oh yeah? What about? Can your mom not stop complimenting me and going on about how you’ve got such a bitchin’ boyfriend?” Eddie rolled the last couple of words off his tongue, holding it at the base of his open mouth as he beamed at you, head exaggeratedly bent down to tilt up at you, chuckling at your earned laugh.

“No!” You retort smiling. “She said that earlier.”

“Ohhhh, of course!” Eddie beamed, going along with your ‘very serious’ nods. “My apologies. Why were you talking about me?”

“We were listening to a song in the car and she said it remained her of you. And to be honest I totally agree.” You explain, already sensing the eager interest arising in your boyfriend, who would be bouncing in his seat the whole journey if you kept it from him.

“Ooooh, what is it!?” Eddie says excitedly, licking his lips as his eyes flit between you and the road, tapping his fingers on his wheel, almost like a subconscious drumroll. “Holy Diver? Enter Sandman? Please tell me you finally showed her some real Ozzy.”

Instead of answering, you move your hand and eject the tape currently playing Seek & Destroy, letting it fall to his dashboard as you rummage inside your bag by your feet.

Only when you ejected Eddie’s tape, in the middle of a song, a genuine pout spread across Eddie’s poor face. “Heyyy wha- wait.” He whined pitifully, and you looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, at his genuine big brown eyes.

He literally repeated that song twice in the 11 minutes to the milkshake place. “Eddie.” Is all you say, your hand down your bag, just looking at him. And he gets over it real quick. Shuffling up in his seat, attentive as you pulled a blank tape out, and slotted it into place, interested to hear what song was about to start playing.

‘Cherry Bomb’ by The Runaways hadn’t been exactly what he was expecting.

You looked to him as it started playing, noticing he wasn’t shocked, or upset, or ecstatic, he was genuinely thinking about it. His eyes looking up at he tapped his fingers on the wheel to the beat, before looking at you.

“Really?” He says genuinely, taking it in, considering it, and wanting your thoughts on it too, as he thinks more about it, already knowing the song of course. He did like it.

“Yeah actually, I think it does fit your...” you gesture Eddie up and down with your hand, looking at him, and remembering as you listened to the song yesterday you thought all about Eddie Munson “-well, you.”

“Huh.” Eddie nods, nibbling his lip as he nods slightly to the song. “I see it actually.”

“Yeah.” You add quietly, both of you starting to properly nod to the song now. And when Eddie turns to you, cracking a smile, you know he’s about to sing, and knowing him so well, you join in at the exact same time.

“I’m the fox you’ve been waitin’ for!!”

You both burst into laughs, the excited and sudden unison so you two, singing it to each other dramatically, before beginning to rock in your seats. Smiling as you sing the popular song together.

“-Hello mom! I’m your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch- cherry bomb!”

You both exclaim the words, the energy in the van always this high.

“Hello world, I’m your wild girl!”

Eddie rolls his eyes at the ‘wild’ part, and you remember just how ‘him’ this song sometimes feels.

“Yeah. It is you, this song. You’re my wild girl.” You tell Eddie, smiling entrancingly at him, your baby girl, and Eddie very quickly plays along.

“You’re my wild girl.” He says himself leaning in all teasing and mushy to tell you, before you do the exact same thing. Both repeating the words “You’re my wild girl”, “No you’re my wild girl” to each other over and over, until you both pull back from where your lips are extended comically and gushily at each other, laughing too breathlessly from the pose for anyone to repeat the joke.

Before you both end up joining in the song again, quick to make sure you can get to the chorus.

“-ausin’ teenage blues. GET DOWN LADIES, you got nothing to lose!”

You both sing the lyrics loudly and pumped with each other, jamming out together like you often do in his van, and practically anywhere Eddie or you can have music.

“Hello daddy, hello mom!-“

You started the next line, but Eddie instead chose not to ch-ch- with you, and turn to ask you openly. “Hey! Maybe that’s how I should announce myself to your parents when I walk into their home real soon. With the cherry bomb part and everything!” He suggests, a casually serious look on his face as commitment to the bit saying it, but his deep brown eyes sparkling with playfulness.

“Oh yeah. That’ll go over radically.” You both nod in comical agreement, like you’re making fun of middle aged men in a business meeting. And you even manage to throw a thumbs up and a solid wink to Eddie, that he replies with a twisted lipped confident smile, and the okay signal with his free hand. Both throwing out “yeah’s” back and forth to each other, in agreement of this excellent plan.

Although as the next part of the song comes on, one bit is dropped for another for Eddie, as you both listen to the chorus of moans playing in the song.

And as you wonder why Eddie was turning to you yet again, and without singing, he quickly outdid you on the jesting scale.

“Your mom wasn’t reminded of me with the moaning part of the song right?” Eddie asked you, as if he was shocked at the sudden thought she’d overheard anything, but not even bothering to hide his grin.

You slap his shoulder, laughing as he lets one out himself, punching his elbow lightly, just pretending he was ‘saved’ because he was driving, even as you chuckled, shaking your head ‘disapprovingly’ at Eddie with a smile. Which was not a rarity.

Eddie gestured with his hand out as if he had a point, still smirking. “I mean it’s not like anyone’s heard us when you always make us both be so quiet when we’re up there-“ another whack, this time to his knee, cutting him off short.

And you snort laugh first, rolling your eyes at him as Eddie smirks at his suggestive quip. Although beaming with full teeth at you, proud to hear that noise meaning he made you laugh so. And God if you can’t just beam yourself, seeing that stupid smile on his face.

There’s a singular moan before the start of the next verse, and this time Eddie wasn’t quiet listening for it. Instead he leant in close to you, and moaned in time with the song, breathy and sensual and overdramatic in your face.

This time your hand is in his face, pushing him back as Eddie laughs into your palm and spread fingers, his soft skin, pliable lips, and warm breath teasing you, although being teased himself as you pulled away.

Chuckling, you brought your knees up in your seat, feeling your heart race as it so often did, even though you’d been dating Eddie for a while now, he still found ways to make you fall in love over and over. Actually, you don’t think that ever stopped happening.

And at seeing your curled up, excited and chuckling expression, and after he knew his flirting made you feel good, as always, Eddie winks at you, open mouthed smirking, his tongue on his bottom lip.

God your boyfriend was so hot. You admired his body, and hair, and clothes, and his shining personality next to you right now, feeling your blood rush through your body as you let yourself flutter with how extraordinary you knew Eddie was. You were so lucky.

“I’ll give ya something to live for” Eddie sings beautifully to you, before taking your chin with his thumb and forefinger, looking at you for the moment as he sings, shaking your chin lightly. “Have ya and grab ya, till you’re sore!” He squeezes your chin, with his teasing, scrunched smirk.

You giggle in his hold, your whole face lighting up as you love the atmosphere you always have with Eddie. Smirking right back at his perfect face. Not batting him away this time.

Until Eddie lets go himself, leaning over your lap with his arm stretched in his leather jacket, quickly opening the glove compartment by you, to show you his assortment of lollipops he keeps in there just for you. Ever since you two started dating.

You gasp excitedly, mouth open with a beam and thrilled eyes at Eddie! Leaning in to grab a cherry one for him and you, quickly taking off the easy slip wrapping, and popping yours into your mouth, relishing over the cherry flavour gushing over your tastebuds and cheeks.

At the same time leaning Eddie’s cherry lolly over to him, and giggling as he waggles his tongue out, and eventually wraps it around the cherry lollipop, his tongue flicking wetly against the tip of your thumb in amusement.

Taking the sweet red treat into his mouth, lolling it into the corner of his cheek, as he smirks at you. His mouth finally silent, except for breathy laughs that are so Eddie, but his eyes saying it all, glowing and sparkling just so unbelievably in love with you.

Eddie unable to stop stealing glances of you in his passenger seat, as you both speed off down the Hawkins road. Head banging together, especially with Eddie’s shaggy mullet, to the guitar, drums, and last yells of “Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb!”

[blue-rose-soul]

Have you heard of swap hazbin hotel? If you do, then here is an idea for an au of Devil's bastard. This is roleswap, the personality would stay the same or similar.

What if it was alastor that open the hotel. The hotel's design would resemble his and his mother's old home. He did it as an experiment or because he was bored, knowing that no one would support redemption, no one except Charlie. She fully support the hotel idea and Alastor is now along the ride. Then when Charlie's father came, Alastor may not do much antagonize because he was the one that started the hotel and he may need support, so unfortunately he may have to grit his teeth while Lucifer does his "hell greatest dad". Don't worry, he will hold a grudge. When the reveal of Alastor's father happen, Lucifer will feel like putting a foot in his mouth due to his comment on Alastor and during his song.

What would the relationship be between Alastor and the hotel residents when the reveal happen?

Got a few asks about this, so I figured I'd combine 'em. I'll prolly won't address each and every point in these asks since I'm answering several at once.

Okay, so, to be honest, my opinion on roleswap AUs is kind of mixed. I think they can be a lot of fun, but I don't really like them when it's just swapping the character's aesthetics and narrative roles for no apparent reason. For a roleswap to be interesting to me, it has to highlight some underexplored aspect of a character, or some similarity between the swapped characters that isn't normally apparent. And I prefer there to be some in-universe reason why the roles are swapped, rather than it being just random.

One example I particularly like is a swap between Angel Dust and Vaggie, where Valentino was the one who came across Vaggie half-dead in the alley. In this universe where Angel Dust never signed a contract with Valentino but Vaggie did, Angel Dust stayed in his family's web of crime until he eventually joined the hotel. Even though each character ended up in one another's role, they still acted like themselves. Angel Dust was still Angel Dust, just with his mob connections more apparent and with the freedom to do things he couldn't while on Valentino's leash. And Vaggie was still very much the tough-as-nails former exorcist who, like the original Angel Dust, is the type to try to shoulder her burdens alone and reject outside help out of a sense of self-loathing.

I'm not as fond of most swaps between Charlie and Alastor because they usually end up feeling like wholly different characters to me. But in the comic I reblogged, what really sold it for me was Charlie's line about Alastor being an addict. I think it's fascinating if you view Alastor's need to kill as being similar to Husk's predisposition towards gambling, or Angel Dust's addiction to drugs and sex. For a character who routinely goes out of his way to be something Other Than Human, this is weirdly humanizing. Additionally, swapped Alastor's expression when Charlie calls him an addict suggests that she's right, and that the violent murderer we know in canon isn't entirely gone from this character. And if that's the case, then it's fair to assume the reverse is also true and the sweet, idealistic Charlie is somewhere under swapped Charlie's manic smile. This makes me want to follow their story, see what brought them to this point and where they'll go from here.

My biggest roadblock in setting up a swap AU of the Devil's Bastard AU - besides getting a bit frantic with sub-AUs already - is figuring out under what circumstances Alastor would open the Hazbin Hotel and Charlie would not. I would probably start with circumstances similar to the Raised Together AU, in which Lucifer found out about Nicaise getting pregnant with his son right away. But when Nicaise was murdered, instead of getting Alastor first, Lucifer went straight to Nicaise's killer to confront him. Unfortunately for the man's health, he was a drunkard and after what he did to Nicaise he heavily indulged. So when Lucifer appeared in front of him in all of his hellish, angelic glory, the man broke down in nearly incomprehensible babbling, and as he was begging for forgiveness for what he did to the woman and the boy, he inadvertently confessed to killing Alastor as well. All while Alastor was sleeping in the shed.

Lucifer slaughtered the man right then and there. What was left of his corpse didn't even look human by the time Lucifer was done with him. Then, heartbroken, Lucifer returned to Hell for good. In the aftermath he became even more fiercely protective of Charlie, not even letting her leave their family home without him or Lilith present. And this added yet more friction to his and Lilith's strained relationship. Sadly, Charlie's dreams hit their first major roadblock before she'd even gotten them off the ground.

But obviously Alastor wasn't dead. He didn't have an easy time of things after his kidnapper's death, since he wasn't able to weasel his way into that man's grace, but he was very much inspired by the event. He would still go on to become a serial killer, seeing it as the only way to fix what was wrong with the fucked up world he lived in. Plus, it was really really fun.

When he died and went on his Overlord murdering spree, he drew the attention of Lilith who immediately clocked there was something different about this sinner. Between what Lucifer had told her - at her discretion - about his child and human friend, the unnatural amount of power, and Alastor's name, she put two and two together almost instantly. She decides to keep a close eye on this particular sinner. With Lucifer more withdrawn than ever and keeping Charlie in isolation with him, it wasn't hard for her to keep his presence in Hell a secret. It was just a matter of figuring out what to do with this information.

Arrogant as he is, the day eventually comes when Alastor gets in over his head. Maybe he fared worse in the fight against Vox and Valentino than even they realized, maybe he got caught in the middle of an extermination. Whatever the case, Lilith swooped in and offered a deal; his life for his soul. And Alastor was in no position to say no.

With Alastor on her leash, Lilith decides on what to do with him. She's going to make her daughter's dream come true. Although Charlie hasn't been allowed to go out and interact with sinners regularly in decades, she still harbors hopes of saving them from exterminations. Something which Lilith is aligned in, though their methods are slightly different. And with her growing frustration towards Lucifer, wouldn't it be just beautiful if one of his very own detested sinners were to prove him wrong? Hence why she doesn't tell Lucifer that his son made his way to Hell after all. Of course, Alastor doesn't believe in redemption and wouldn't go along with this willingly, so Lilith gives him some motivation. If he can get one - just a single soul - into Heaven, she will return his soul to him. All he needs to do is prove it's possible.

As far as Alastor's concerned, she just gave him an impossible task as a means of taunting him. In his mind, she's basically told him, "You're mine forever." But, this is the only path available to him right now, so he sets to it.

The first Charlie ever learns of Alastor's existence is the broadcasts of his victims' screams. So she instantly recognizes the voice on the radio advertising a project aimed at doing no less than exactly what she's always dreamed of! Is it possible? Did one of the most bloodthirsty, ruthless, and dangerous Overlords decide to walk the path of redemption himself?

...Maybe. Charlie isn't naive enough not to suspect some ulterior motives from the Radio Demon. But she hopes. And it's that hope that fuels her to once again approach Lucifer and beg him to let her go out and help their people. Lucifer refuses to listen. He shuts her down, not willing to entertain the notion of a sinner fighting for redemption for even a moment. There's no point in having faith in them. Charlie leaves dejected.

Later that night, as she's once again rereading the story of how her parents met, the Radio Demon's voice rattling in her head, she decides she's had enough. Why did she ever bother with asking? Her parents are the original rebels! She grabs her cell phone, a few wads of cash, and - when they notice her leaving and don't try to stop her - Razzle and Dazzle, and disappears into the night.

Needless to say, Alastor is very, very confused when this mysterious Hellborn shows up on his doorstep, not wanting to seek redemption or protection from the exterminations, but declaring her intent to help. He's instantly suspicious, and it hits Charlie that Alastor won't believe any genuine offers of help. So she does the first thing she can think of; she acts shady. Her acting is a little awkward and stilted, but Alastor more readily believes that she's there to watch him make a fool of himself. Besides, as powerful as he is, the funding she offers will go a long way towards fixing up the facility. So the hotel gains a mysterious new facility manager with a hidden agenda in the form of the Princess of Hell. Not that she's telling anyone who she really is.

Eventually Charlie's sure that Lucifer will come looking for her, so she has to work fast to make this thing work before he figures out where she is.

She just doesn't know the clusterfuck that's awaiting her when that day finally comes.

[hayaku14]

hello why is kaishin more popular than shinkai or what i mean is why bottom shinichi is like the most widely believed one? lol not really in the fandom just vaguely familiar with the anime from childhood it's just my mutuals likes this ship. i'd thought shinichi being the top would be more popular given his personality.

anon sorry for the late answer!!

imma be real honest with you, anon, i've loved the kidco dynamic since i was conan-sized but i only realized kaishin should be making out around 2021 so i don't know if i'm the best person to answer this question LOL BUT, i'll give you an answer!

tbh, i think for fandom shipping in general, the main character more often than not is the chosen bottom and whoever else is the other party is topping them. in japanese media especially, the ship names are mostly born from putting the kanji of their names together wherein the order of which indicates the seme and uke. since this happens early on, we kinda get stuck with that as the popular ship name whether you prefer the other way later on.

perhaps kaishin is more popular but not entirely by a lot compared to other ships where it's completely skewed to one side. i see a lot of shinkai too. ofc there are people who prefer one way over the other exclusively and that's completely fine!

personally, i think confining them into seme and uke or top and bottom does a great disservice to the kaishin dynamic because to me we should be looking at their sub-dom dynamic more and why they're actually peak switch sub and dom!!!!

that's fucking right kaishin is actually peak switch and i will die on this fucking hill!!!!!!!!!!

when you say shinichi would be the "obvious top," i'd like to assume in your heart you actually meant "the obvious dom" (LOL) but i think that could also apply to kaito.

i think the appeal of kaishin is the push and pull between them. the give and take. they're always trying to one-up each other. sometimes one pushes and the other gives way, sometimes it's the other way around.

i will be honest, perhaps switch pairings might just be my preference but I have never encountered a pairing that felt this completely equal in the switch department more than kaishin. like for other ships i'd sometimes be like, "yeah they switch but A is 70% more dom than B." But for kaishin I'm like, "oKAY THEY'RE 50/50 THEY'RE EQUALS THEY'RE PERFECT HALVES RAAAAAHHHH"

now how does this answer your question? well, i have no proof and im going off of vibes and like i said im no veteran in this ship fandom but, i think a lot of people do enjoy the other way around as you think it would've been. it's just that...it's something that can just be filed under the kaishin tag too. because it's basically the same sometimes. the only different thing is who's topping and bottoming. like sometimes i'm scrolling through twitter and i'd see art that's giving shinkai but it's tagged as kaishin and vice versa lol.

also personally i prefer calling them kaishin because i love the letter k and i associate the name shinkai more with makoto shinkai so every time i see people refer to kaishin as shinkai, my mind just conjures up an image of kaito, shinichi, and makoto shinkai together and i know that's fucking hilariously weird but it sometimes happens!!!! LMAO so even if i'm thinking about shinkai stuff, i still prefer using the name kaishin lol.

(but having the kaishin/shinkai distinction is definitely still useful especially for people who want to filter through one way or the other so fuck yeah to the ship name shinkai you're here to stay!!!)

anyway in conclusion, top shinichi is popular too dw lol, or maybe i should say bottom kaito is popular too lol i see yalls

also sorry that this answer is not only late but also a whole essay that doesn't even straightforwardly answer your question lol my bad anon

[aphverse-confessions]

I have a conspiracy theory that whoever is in charge of this account keeps track of the people who forget to turn on anon for their confessions whether by simply keeping them in the ask box waiting to be answered, or by screenshotting them. And when the day finally comes for this account to be defunct there will be BLOODSHED.

that or you secretly work for Jess, or ARE HER! *que dramatic music*

Okay I was gonna post this as a normal confrssion but I changed my mind. So all of my response is in the tags teehee