#i know the post is somewhat vague lol

[xryosakeyx]

Trying to get used to sharpies so I drew mostly Shirley :P (gonna take a hiatus during the summer months before any vamp comics pop up tho but that's alright bc I'll be back with new material!)

[paranormal-taters]

you know it's bad when you start journaling about him

[hassianlovebot]

i've seen some people talk about einar's romance dialogue and how it feels offputting and rude to him but i'm gonna be honest,,, i never really saw it that way?

like i do agree that the player's dialogue options Suck compared to the other romances. something about it just feels really childish and definitely not as,,, "serious" or even committed as the other romance dialogue options. that being said, it never felt patronizing toward him.

to me, it feels like the player is just. being human. while einar is being galdur. the player doesn't get mad at him for not understanding certain jokes or not showing affection in the same way. and einar doesn't get uncomfortable with the player being human, making human jokes, or showing human affection. they're just Being Human and sharing their humanness with einar. which einar, while not always understanding of it, is completely used to and Does understand and enjoy it later on in the 3-4 levels. not that he didn't enjoy it before, but once you get closer to him, he Does understand more of the jokes and even joins in on certain ones (like the catch one!).

idk man it just always felt like the player and einar are just sharing their perspectives, personalities, and culture with each other. and of course there is the chocolate thing where he says he doesn't need it and the player has to learn what he actually wants from the relationship (ie spending time together). and there are still jokes that he ends up taking seriously, which yknow, that's kind of what i meant when i said the player's options often feel very childish compared to other ones. but it just never came off as patronizing to me, especially since einar repeatedly says that he enjoys spending time with the player and engaging in their "togetherness".

like to me it always felt like he enjoys learning about new things, even if he doesn't want to participate. like at the maji market when he says that while he doesn't understand the hotpot game, watching it fills him with "oneness". he enjoys learning about human and majiri culture and seeing them just be themselves! none of his dialogue implies that he's uncomfortable with the way the player shows affection (there Is something to be said about the dialogue options only ever showing one form of it,,, but tbf they can't put in 50+ options to cover the minutia of human brains lol)

idk i want to be clear im not shitting on anyone else's opinion on this!!! there's room for all perspectives here. i just wanted to share! i've seen SO many people say that romancing einar feels patronizing and like. i've just never seen it that way ! and it always confuses me when i see it akjhgd tbf i think some people are also neurodivergent (same lol) and don't appreciate the dialogue options that einar doesn't understand because in real life it Does feel patronizing when someone does it on purpose even knowing you won't get it. but for me, einar being galdur and not a neurodivergent human/majiri is an important distinction. he shows multiple times that he enjoys learning about human cultures and perspectives, that he enjoys talking to the player even when they don't understand each other, and that he's capable of understanding the player's jokes and sarcasm once explained to him. he Likes that they're different !

einar seems to enjoy the player acting "human" with him because he gets to learn about them! and he wouldn't want them stifle their true personality just to please him! einar is alllll about being true to yourself, your beliefs, your oneness, etc. he wants the player to understand him and his affection, but he also wants to understand the player's personality and affection. he wants them to share each other's "quirks". and don't get me wrong, i do wish there was more we could do to share in his way of affection (especially if his way is our way,,, like i'm Not flirty or jokey like that irl at all and i'd love to have more options where it really is just "hi i enjoy parallel playing with you :)))" lol) and that the dialogue options were less jokey or at least more affectionate/serious but idk,,, i think for me, i've just always seen einar as someone who wants to know and appreciate everything about the player, even the things he doesn't Immediately understand. he wants the player to explain things and share their culture with him SO bad

[504py]

No Compromises

Yandere Canada/Reader – You reunite with an old college friend, though he's nothing like you remember.

⚠️ Yandere content, kidnapping, self-harm, stalking, possible emetophobia (descriptions of gagging and the feeling of illness), no use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader.

IM BACK YAWL 😭😭 just a bit of a filler post and another apology for being away for so long!!! i tried to get this out by halloween but i kept adding more shit LOL

while this is much more aligned with his 2p version, i had no idea if it counts as such since here i portray his 1p and 2p version as the same guy 😭😭 so that's up in the air!

also u may notice the lack of a [oneshot] tag... thats cuz i have a prequel wip for this, but figured i'll just finish and post it if the people desire it LMAO. pls lemme know if y'all do!! anyways so sorry again and i hope u enjoy!!! thanks so much to everyone for sticking around and enjoying what i do 🩵🩵🩵

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

The light drag of a cigarette is the first thing you process when you finally come to your senses.

A man stands before you, singular lightbulb leering ominously above a head of overgrown blond hair, the bright light reflecting in his glasses making you unable to see much of his features. His tall, slender figure is highlighted by the stark overhead shadows that are being cast on his baggy clothing. He exhales, smoke billowing and resting heavily in the dusty, stale air.

"Hey." He says, the friendly, casual tone of his voice making you blink faster in the hopes of gaining more lucidity. His tongue pokes at his cheek as he drops the cigarette to the cemented floor and stomps on it. The gritty sound feels like boiling water in your audio-sensitive drugged up state.

"Are the ropes too tight?" He asks with a quirk of his head, you squint, thinking you'll be able to catch a glimpse of his face, but the dark shadows and your pupils trying desperately to adjust to the lighting in the dim room make the task much too difficult. You didn't even notice you were bound 'till you tugged your wrists at the mention of the word 'rope.'

The mystery man straightens his posture and takes a few steps closer to you. His sneakers are downtrodden. The lacing is asymmetrical, any recognizable color or branding rubbed off, and the hem of his loose jeans caked in what seems to be mud.

"Come on, you can speak, can't you? It's not like I taped up your mouth." The tone of voice he uses here is almost playful, yet too vague. You didn't know if it was condescending, comforting, or cheerful.

"I... I'm... Ropes are okay..." You respond mindlessly, your voice coming out in a hoarse croak. God, it feels like your head could loll off your neck at any moment.

"Poor thing. You sound parched– Tell ya what, I'll give you some water if you kiss me." Even if his face is still hazy, you can make out the glint of a smile. His canines are pointy.

He draws closer, and crouches in front of your seated figure. He's a lot taller than you thought, seeing him up close. You see the indent of a pointed dimple by the edge of his sharp lip corners when he turns his cheek to you. There's a few moles on his pale skin. He smells like tobacco, rust, and rainwater. Smells a bit like something syrupy and moldy, but maybe that's just the room.

You shudder away from his close proximity, and he laughs nervously.

"Aw, I thought that'd work." He chuckles, before facing you fully, still crouching.

You can finally see his face. What you thought were dark brown eyes turned out to be a dull shade of purple, just with his pupils as fully blown as they can go. The stare is creepy, but at least his droopy outer eye corners and straight blond eyelashes soften their impression. His nose is well-structured and pointy, reddish at the tip. His sharp lip corners seem to always point upwards, and were pink like they had just been kissed and bitten. If it weren't for this moment, you'd have thought he was an attractive man with a somewhat docile-looking face. His cheeks are flushed, he tilts his head in wonder, a few pieces of his hair falling over his face.

"Merde, you're really pretty up close. I can't believe you're in front of me right now. I missed you so, so much." He giggles, cold hand reaching out to carefully grasp your chin to try and steady your bobbing head.

He swoons, "So, so pretty." then presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. The action makes him exhale a shuddered, moaning breath. Whatever is in your system prevents you from reacting too much besides a weak jerk of your body.

"I should get you out of this shitty room, but I wanted to be prepared in case you reacted more violently. I didn't wanna have to drag you around. Don't wanna rough my baby up." He says with a small smile, as if the thought secretly brings him some amusement. Maybe his otherwise comforting smile just comes off as sinister at a time like this.

"You're reacting so much better than I thought you would, though. You're being so, so good, you know?" He coos like you're a pet, taking his hand off your chin and his blunt fingernails gently scratching at the top of your scalp.

Your throat hurts. You swallow dryly. "Who are you?"

The corner of his mouth twitches, and his smile drops slightly. He takes in a deep breath and sighs, cigarette-stained air blowing over your face.

He squints at you. "You really don't remember me?" He says quietly.

You shake your head. His light eyebrows knit in what looks like an expression of heartbreak.

He tries to jog your memory. "Come on, college sweethearts?"

"...I didn't date anyone in college."

His lips part in shock, the wrinkles between his eyebrows deepening.

"It's Mattie. Come on now." He pleads, desperation dripping from every word. The higher, more pathetic register his voice shifts into begins to jog your memory.

The sound of that nickname makes your eyes widen and forces your shoulders to press against the back of the chair. His identity makes things a million times worse.

"...M-Matthew Williams? No, no, c'mon, we never dated. Don't be like this."

"We had something special, though. I missed you. You missed me too, didn't you? You even remembered my full name." Matthew's gentle voice raises, as if trying to convince you of his feelings, trying to justify this situation.

"Th-There must've been a better way to get in contact with me without tying me up."

He shakes his head, frown almost a pout. "I did try! But you'd always blow me off to hang out with your other friends, a-and– and I just couldn't watch when I found out you were starting to see someone else." Resting on his knees and looking up at you, he grasps your bound hands on your lap. The position reminds you of prayer. Worship.

"I love you. Always have. A-And I know I'm different from how I used to be, but maybe you'll like this newer version of me more. You did say you liked a more assertive partner, didn't you?" His head tilts while he nods, like he's trying to convince you of everything he's saying.

His crazed eyes quickly scan your expression for any validation. "Yeah, yeah... I-I was a doormat back then, so that's probably why you didn't return my feelings." He laughs bitterly, and the sight is almost irritatingly funny to you. He's comparing his former pitiful self to the way he is now, as if he had changed. "But I'm different now. I'm not a coward anymore. I'll take care of you, and I'll do it well, I promise. I'll make you so happy."

"Please, Mattie, j-just let me go, and I'll give you a chance–"

He gasps. "You used my nickname." A disgustingly lovestruck grin spreads on his pale freckled face. He presses your bound hands against his flat chest. His heart is beating wildly against his ribcage.

"Feel my heartbeat. It's all for you. It only beats for you. I promise I can make you feel the same way for me. Just let me."

"...Do I even have any other choice? You kidnapped me."

Matthew's smile falters, eyes drooping, and he looks just as pathetic as he did all those years ago. He frowns flimsily. "I-I'm sorry. But I'll be good to you. Really. I'll be so good for you."

You shut your eyes and lean your head back. Your whole body hurts. Weighing out your options, you make a decision. If this Matthew is just as pathetic as the one you remember, then maybe you have a chance to escape if you butter him up enough.

"Fine. Untie me first."

Matthew's eyes widen. "R-Really? If you fight back, though, I'll have to use force, so, please, just... Don't run."

"I get it."

Eagerly, he brings out a knife and cuts through the rope. He rubs and massages your wrists for you when you're freed from your restraints. Dusts your clothes off for you, too. Though, you're wondering if what you think is a needlessly thoughtful action is just an excuse for him to feel you up.

"Let's get out of this basement, yeah? It's much better upstairs. Promise." He says, gently holding onto your hand. His are covered in bruises and small wounds. Butterflies are taking flight like fighter jets in his stomach.

When you stand up, Matthew pauses for a bit, violet eyes raking over your figure.

"Sorry, I just–" He starts, before cutting himself off by quickly stepping closer to you and encasing your body in a hug. He trembles and lets out a shaky breath, tightening his hold.

"I missed you so much," His voice cracks, "So happy you're here. Really. I feel like I'm on top of the world having you all to myself. You're all mine, finally."

Matthew takes in a sharp, obstructed breath. "Ugh, I–" He pulls away and his voice sounds all wet. He's crying. If you weren't so woozy, you would have scolded him when he wipes his face with his dirty jacket sleeve. Even now, you care about him, and maybe that's why he's fallen so helplessly in love with you.

He feels like he's shriveling into himself when all he does is simply breathe and what comes out is a sniffle. It's shameful, to boast about being a changed, stronger man, only to fall apart with a hug.

Wordlessly, he gulps his insecurities down his scratchy throat and grabs your wrist, taking you up the dusty wooden steps and leaving the basement. He does this with such little care it surprises you a little. It forces you to come to your senses in order to not stumble over your own heavy feet.

The actual interior of the house is much less industrial-looking than what you'd assumed from the basement. Rustic is the first word to pop into your mind to describe this place. Cottagecore, like the trendy people say, but... with a whole lot less of that trendy factor. It definitely is comfortable, which is a relief considering the storm outside.

Oh.

Looking out the window makes you realize something dreadful. You were never scared of the dark, pitch-darkness, even, but the vantablack surroundings beyond the glass begins to shroud you in a shadow of realization; there is a total absence of light. There are no lights, there are no houses nearby, there is nothing. You were in the middle of nowhere. You glance down to Matthew's battered sneakers and mud-caked jeans, and wonder how much trouble they went through to get you here.

He senses your staring, and looks to you, following your gaze and flushing.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. This is no outfit for a reunion as important as this." He laughs sheepishly, weakly. He had managed to swallow his tears, with the only evidence left behind being his reddish waterline and nostrils.

"I'll, uh, I'll go change– Just sit down anywhere you'd like. Those drugs will take a bit to leave your system. I'll fix you something up to wash it down as soon as I'm back, sweetie." Matthew stays for a moment, gnawing on his lip like he's weighing something out in his mind, before deciding to just go for it. He leans in to quickly place a kiss to your temple, and despite his attempt at nonchalance, he lets out a thin, shaky breath, before scampering off into what you assume is his bedroom.

Still nauseated, you hobble over to the couch and collapse onto it with more grace than you expected. You spare only a few seconds before forcing yourself back up, making the most of your time alone to examine the area without the pressure of Matthew watching you.

You scan the room quickly, making note of any possible exits. There are only two in this living room. The window, and the lone door against the other side of the room. Nearing and examining the window, you quickly find that it has a keyed lock, and rush over to the door.

Keyed, padlocked, deadbolted. God, he really went through the trouble of installing multiple of these. You could only imagine what his keyring looked like. You wonder if you could nab it.

A long-fingered hand clamps over your shoulder, digging into your collarbones and pulling you back. It's over so quickly you don't even have time to complain and yell about the pain.

"What do you wanna eat?" Matthew asks sweetly. His voice, though recognizable, is different from the way you remember it. His signature softspoken-ness is still there, but it's hoarse, slightly deeper. Maybe it's because he started smoking, but no cigarette can be owed the credit of the subtle confidence in his tone– Maybe not confidence, but some sort of certainty.

Your irises tremble slightly at the startle as you return his stare, before gulping and answering. "...Anything's fine."

"Pancakes it is." He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. As he walks to the quaint kitchen, he pulls a black hair tie off of his bony wrist and begins tidying his wavy, honey blond locks into a low ponytail. His hair's grown so much since you last saw him, and you can't help but think it suits him well.

It's not just his hair, the rest of him has grown, too. Matthew's gained a few inches of height, though he looks slimmer than before. You're unsure if he lost weight, or if his height just makes him look thinner than he actually is. He's aware of it, that he looks slightly worse for wear, but he couldn't help but lose his appetite being away from you for so long. He'll gain it back eventually to look good for you. I have to, he tells himself.

Now that he's rid of his jacket and clad in just a loose, plain graphic shirt, you get a better look of the wounds on his arms. It's mostly around his knuckles and palms, maybe he's clumsy, maybe he does a lot of physical labor, those are strangers to you, but you're familiar with the thin scars on the inside of his wrists. They're faded and old now, thank god, but you remember the long teary nights in college you'd spend trying to convince him not to hurt himself just because you couldn't spend time with him that week. You made him promise he wouldn't do it anymore, and judging by the lack of fresh wounds, he's kept his word. Though those memories make your head throb, you feel slightly proud.

You wobble over to the couch, deciding to take a seat to try and soothe the nausea bubbling about inside you. You remember those red plaid pajamas he's wearing, too. Always wore them whenever you came over. You wince as another wave of pain ripples through your skull, and you wonder if he's purposefully dressed himself like that to remind him of his most favorite time in his life, one that he thought was yours too.

That smell of butter, vanilla, and syrup doesn't help. While your stomach does respond to the smell, you can't help but think of Matthew first before the food. He always smelled faintly of maple syrup, along with hints of lavender and men's shower gel. His old apartment reeked of it. You never thought such an innocuous scent could bring you so much irritation.

Matthew glances behind him, finding your zoned out, furrow-browed stare.

"Your head hurting real bad?" He calls out from behind his back, focusing on the current stack of pancakes he was building by the stove.

"Yeah," You say under your breath. You're not sure why you even bothered responding if you knew you were gonna answer so silently. A part of you felt it rude had you just been unresponsive, but good god, forget the formalities, he'd kidnapped you!

After a few more moments of head-clutching silence, Matthew arrives, sitting on the couch and placing a plate of pancakes on the wooden coffee table in front of you.

"Come on now, you should eat. You've been knocked out for a while, you're about to miss lunch and dinner." He says lightly, a faint sternness in his voice, like he were speaking to a child. You scoff feebly.

"Nah, I... I don't really feel like eating." Despite the apparent hunger pangs in your stomach, you feel terribly sick in the throat, like you were constantly on the verge of retching. As much as you wanted to down the food he's prepared for you, just the thought of eating makes you gag.

He lets out a small laugh. "Want me to feed you?" Scooting closer, he leans down and tilts his head to get a better look at your pallid, gloomy face, heavy with queasiness. You're still so beautiful, he thinks.

You shake your head adamantly at that, immediately regretting it at the dull pain that amounts from the action. "No, no, I'm alright, Mattie," You bite your tongue when you realize you've called him by that stupid nickname again. "I feel like I'm gonna throw up."

He can't help the cheesy expression on his face and the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "It'll get worse if you don't eat." He pouts. "Come on, at least five bites." He picks up a fork, already slicing a small bit for you, and holding it up to your mouth.

You look at it with a small frown and wince in your expression, and his eyes darken.

"I'll tell you where one of the keys are if you eat."

Those words grab your attention immediately, and haplessly, you take a bite of the pancake he offers you. Matthew lets out an airy giggle.

"I remember you used to complain so much about this. Whenever I tried to feed you." He says with a pointy, wistful smile. "You've changed a lot over the years. Still so in love with you, though." His gaze is heartbreakingly warm.

You look at him, heart stopping in your chest for a moment at how sincerely he's looking at you. His heart does the same, but just at the mere action of you meeting his eyes, acknowledging his existence.

"You too." You say simply, despite your thoughts being so much more than those two words imply. When his cheeks redden and his lips gape, you quickly correct yourself. "Uh, that you've changed. Not that I love you." He huffs a dry chuckle.

"Figured, but I wanted to believe it." Matthew cuts up another piece of the pancake and offers it to you. You bite, and his blush only darkens. While you're chewing, he speaks again.

"You're not wearing that bracelet I made you anymore." He makes a sad face.

You swallow, "It's in my apartment. Felt too bad to throw it away." The light returns to his lavender eyes and he grins warmingly at you.

The bracelet is simple, a thin twist bracelet made with red thread, all entwined together with love. Matthew gave it to you during a morning class, blushing and stuttering. He made one for himself, too, like the red string of fate, he giggled when he said this, lovingly looking at the matching bracelets around your wrists. Now that your vision was less foggy, you can now see that what you thought was a wound was actually that same bracelet around his wrist. The color has faded slightly, more dull with dirt and age, while yours is still as vibrant as the day he gave it to you. It's a shame he didn't nab it when abducting you.

"You still care about me." He grins, almond eyes sparkling with mirth.

"To my own detriment." You smile emptily at him, taking the fork from his grasp and quickly eating the rest of what you owe him.

"The key?" You remind him, and he seems like a lost puppy for a moment, before it hits him, his pointy-fanged grin widening. He chuffs bashfully, as if a secret of his had been revealed, before he answers, awfully joyous; "Oh, I was lying." He laughs almost childishly.

A feeling of cold dread and shame drips from your head and down your shoulders. Of course, why did you assume so easily that he'd just hand that to you on a silver platter? At the same time, of course you would, he's Matthew Williams, the same man who gave you his coat and paid your bus fare the first time you two met. He insisted you kept it, said it suited you better and he's got hundreds more like it anyways. You did, you kept using it over the years even when you graduated. You used it this morning, maybe that's why it was so easy for him to recognize you. Your gullibility strikes you with chagrin and you can only retaliate by pushing back.

"What? We made a deal. Why would you lie to me?"

Matthew's usually docile expression falls, and suddenly you feel like you genuinely have no idea who this man is anymore, and you regret thinking that you could just walk all over him and out that door like you did all those years ago.

"Do you think you have any control over this situation, sweetie?" He crawls closer, palms dipping the couch cushions. "Did you really think I'd guard you so loosely? After all these years?" The collar of his shirt hangs from his neck as he leans down, collarbones prominent. "Did you think I'd let you leave me again? Stupid." He spits, though it seems like the final insult was more directed towards himself than you.

You scoot back until your back hits the armrest, and before you can try and slide off the couch, a lithe arm cages you in.

"It tore me up, ripped me to shreds and I came back a different person, but the only thing that stayed, that didn't change, was my love for you– No, my love for you is what broke me in the first place. Please, god, just soothe me a little." Matthew's voice crescendos until it cracks, hysterical expression making you relive the hell that was your college days together.

"Just love me a little." He whimpers weakly, before pressing a desperate kiss to your lips, moaning in surprise as if he wasn't the one to kiss you first. It's short, brief, like it zaps him, too much for his poor racing heart to handle. The bright smile returns to his face when he pulls away, breathless. It stays despite the horrified look on your face.

"Why are you so disgusted? You already tasted plenty of me in those pancakes. You looked so cute eating up my spit." He teases, his glee evident in his voice, the loose strands of his hair tickling your face. The realization of what you had just consumed, what now sits heavily in the pit of your stomach, was something of his, makes you dizzy with abhorrence. You try to push him off, but he slams your shoulder back into the cushions, hands vice-like and heavy against your skin.

Matthew is panting, and when he catches his breath, his eyes widen and his irises shake. You can see his pupils contract and dilate. "I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry– Didn't mean to– Ah, merde." He whimpers, dropping his head to the crook of your neck. He's already reduced to a groveling mess, and you've barely said anything. "Please love me, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I love you!" He cries, and you hate that you really do feel sorry for him.

You hate him, hate the shit he keeps putting you through, hate how soft his voice is, hate how pathetic he is, hate how reliant he is on you, hate seeing his tears. You hate how he still manages to pull pity from you despite everything he's put you through.

With a shriek through gritted teeth, you fist his shirt and yank him down, this kiss is intended, and definitely felt like, more akin to an act of harm over love, but poor Matthew can't tell the difference.

He melts into it with a loving sigh despite his bleeding lips.

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

[ezdotjpg]

Hi!!! Sorry if you've been asked this before but is it possible for you to summarize the Bonus Links' personalities? Just asking because I'd like to get a general idea, apologies if this is too much of a pain to answer 😭🫶🏻

hey! luckily I already wrote up character intros a while back that I never posted to tumblr lol, so I'll go ahead and post them now! under the cut since this is mega long lol

Loft

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Skyward Sword

Age: 22

Height: 5’3”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: World’s Nicest Man Pushed To His Limit. It’s his nature to be light-hearted and easy-going, but ever since the events of Skyward Sword he’s been unable to let the implications of Demise’s curse and Zelda’s connection to Hylia go. He’s usually mild, but he’s got a lot of suppressed anger in him that comes out at inopportune times. He tends towards being optimistic, but has lately been caught in a depressive spiral. As a result of all these conflicting emotions, he hasn’t felt like himself in a while. Before everything, he could have been described as a little bit lazy, but these days a better word would be lethargic. He’s got a mischievous and thrill-seeking streak that often surprises people. He knows he’s powerful, but he’s lost some confidence in the years since his quest. He’s wracked with guilt about the way everything ended.

Slate

Pronouns: tends to use he/him, but really any

Game: Breath of the Wild (ignoring TotK for now)

Age: 21

Height: 5’0”

Communication: Mainly signs, speaks occasionally

Personality: The Reviews Are In: Friendly Guy, Vaguely Off-Putting. He knows he’s not pre-calamity Link, but he’s not exactly sure what he is instead. He’s accepted this about himself, and it grinds his gears that other people refuse to. He’s not sure what to do with all these memories inside him that aren’t his, and that he feels nothing for. He’s become more expressive, but when he’s upset his face goes entirely blank. He has a tendency to be distracted, blunt, intense, impulsive, somewhat abrasive. But he’s not unkind, and can even be outright friendly. He’d offer his help to anyone who asks, and he makes it a point to know everyone in Hyrule. He’s happiest out in nature, and doesn’t mind the solitude. He only ever lies by omission, and otherwise says exactly what he means. There’s something a little otherworldly about him.

Mask

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask

Age: 15

Height: 5’2½”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Local Teen Needs Hug So Bad, Will Bite If You Try. He’s prickly, hot-tempered, moody. He’ll pick verbal battles he probably shouldn’t. Everything is a touchy subject. But he’s developed this behavior as a coping mechanism. He’s kind by nature, and it takes effort to lash out. The person he is with Malon- gentle, more soft-spoken, with a good sense of humor and a love for harmless mischief- is a lot closer to the person he’s comfortable being. He’s a scared kid. He feels out of place, both mature and immature, of this world and not. Sometimes, he gets scrambled between Termina, the Hyrule he’s in now, the Hyrule he left behind, and the Hyrule of the war. He has a lot of resentment for both the gods and the royal family, and all he wants is to be left alone.

Wolf

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Twilight Princess

Age: 23

Height: 5’5”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Thank God I’m A Country Boy. He’s a gentle soul, probably the gentlest out of all of them. He likes to be useful, and he has made being the problem solver of Ordon Village part of his identity. He’s a bit of a mother hen and likes to take care of people. Midna was good at bringing out a little bit of attitude and snark in him. He’s got a bad case of Resting Bitch Face, but he’s not an angry person. However, he’s had a hard time adjusting to life back in Ordon. He’s usually even-tempered, but lately he’s been irritable and easier to anger. He feels isolated by his experiences, and has been avoiding most of the villagers, including his loved ones, even though it makes him lonely. Mostly he just doesn’t want to take it out on them, but it’s also about his pride. He enjoys the company of animals far more these days. He wants a quiet life, and has been avoiding Zelda's attempts to make "Hero" a political role for him to fill.

War

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Hyrule Warriors

Age: 25

Height: 5’7”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally, had Proxi speak for him at one point during the war

Personality: Link “This Is My Jaeger, I Make The Tactical Decisions” Faron. He comes across as a very charming young man, witty, helpful, pleasant in conversation, well-adjusted. In reality, he is constantly doing complicated political 4D chess in his mind at all times, even when it’s not necessary. Many years of being subject to the whims of the Royal Court and pressure to be a perfect symbol have poisoned him: he’s become calculating, manipulative, superficially polite, two-faced. He has to be the one holding all the cards, considering all the variables, fixing all of the problems, because he can’t trust anyone else. If you were to strip him of all pretense, he'd actually be a dry, resigned person, perpetually annoyed with everyone around him. He values status and reputation, and he wants more power than he has. His appearance is important to him because he knows his pretty face is an asset. He holds deep respect for the gods and the mantle of the hero. He has a strong sense of duty, but one that often leads him to justify terrible actions. The ends justify the means.

Mirror

Pronouns: he/they

Game: A Link Between Worlds, Triforce Heroes

Age: 22

Height: 5’1”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Local Link Doing Pretty Well Actually, All Things Considered. He’s just living his life, having a mostly pleasant time. He used to be quiet and reserved when he was younger, but has come out of his shell in a big way. He’s a bit vain, and fond of doing things with a dramatic flair. They like to have an audience, they like to make people laugh, they like to have your attention. Rather than being poisoned by court politics, he thrives in them. He doesn’t pretend to be charming, he just is. They can be on the arrogant side. He’s interested in fashion and art more than fighting these days, but still keeps his skills up to date. He pretends the scar on his face doesn’t bother him, but it does. He’s particularly obsessed with the legend of the hero before him.

Mage

Pronouns: he/him

Game: A Link to the Past, Link’s Awakening, Oracle of Ages, Oracle of Seasons

Age: 32

Height: 5’3”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Weird Uncle You Just Stopped Hearing From One Day. He’s a difficult guy to get a read on. He comes off as deeply serious, imposing, no-nonsense. He is actually full of nonsense. The fact that no one can tell what is and isn’t part of the bit is part of the bit. He mostly ignores his own problems by dedicating his life to solving other people’s problems. He wanders from place to place, helping people and becoming a bit of a larger than life folk legend in his own right in the process. He’s leaned into learning magic more than the sword, and has built up quite the arsenal of spells. He doesn’t speak often, and is content to let other Links lead despite being the oldest and the most experienced. He’s difficult to rile and even more difficult to get a straight answer out of.

Spirit

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Spirit Tracks

Age: 17

Height: 4’11”

Communication: Mainly signs, speaks occasionally. He has a stutter when he speaks.

Personality: Wants To Be Anywhere But Here, Preferably On A Train. He’s fully given up swordfighting, and basically just wants to go back to being a Royal Engineer like nothing happened. He has no interest in gaining any kind of attention, authority, or power from the mantle of the hero, and would actually prefer that everyone stop looking at him. He’s quiet, sweet-natured and generally non-confrontational, but he’s not afraid to stand up for himself when pushed. It’s just that it’s easier to let Zelda stand up for him instead. He’s pretty mature and in-tune with his emotions for a 17 year old. Seeing spirits everywhere, he has a lot of private thoughts about grief and death that he doesn’t share with anyone. The gears in his brain are constantly turning, and once he’s stuck on an idea, it’s all he can focus on. He often doesn’t give himself enough credit for how capable he is. Please let him tell you about trains.

Mini

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Minish Cap

Age: 14

Height: 4’3”

Communication: Only signs, mute.

Personality: He’s Just A Little Guy, Only 2 Pixels Tall. Mini doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. He’s not very expressive in the face, and it can be hard to tell what he’s thinking or feeling. Mostly, he’s a little rascal. He likes to root around in the garbage and build strange little machines from what he finds. He spends a lot of time hanging out with the Minish, moreso than humans. It’s a little bit of an escapism thing. He hasn’t really processed what it meant to become the hero so young, and is actively trying to avoid doing so. He’s very independent, and simply doesn’t compute attempts to coddle him.

Wake

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Wind Waker, Phantom hourglass

Age: 20

Height: 5’5”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Everyone’s Favorite Cousin At The Family Function. He’s a fun person to be around. Friendly, energetic, laid back, good-natured, outgoing. He is always up for a good shenanigan. But he can get serious when he needs to, and often plays the important role of mediator in group dynamics. He’s the glue that holds the team together! He seems to take everything in stride, and presents himself as unbothered by the things that have happened to him. Whether that’s actually true, or he’s just compartmentalized everything too well remains to be seen. He has a strange way of being very open, and yet a closed book at the same time. He’s sentimental, and family is important to him

[endless-weightless]

Ford Pines x GN!reader headcanons!

I'm surprised it took me this long to get into Gravity Falls. Anyways this has both SFW and NSFW so beware. There's also a brief mention of being AFAB as a possibility but other than that it's completely gender neutral (I'm 99% sure, I didn't proofread too well lol).

SFW

Right off the bat, I’m saying he’s autistic because so am I and I said so.

If you’re someone who needs reassurance or is generally anxious/paranoid about anything he’ll go into long (often scientific) explanations to ease your mind and also throw in some fun facts.

Both a listener and a yapper. He loves nothing more than the sound of your voice but also loves being able to spout all sorts of things about his research and interests while you stare at him lovingly.

Can’t sleep unless you’re next to him. You don’t even need to be cuddling, your presence is just the one thing he needs to fall asleep.

That being said, he will NEVER pass up an opportunity to cuddle. Watching a movie? Cuddling. Working at his desk in the lab? Cuddling on his lap. Cooking something in the kitchen? He’s got his arms wrapped around you as he presses loving kisses into your temple.

He rarely swears, but when he does it always makes you do a double-take (and maybe giggle because it sounds so odd coming from him).

Probably tried weed once or twice in the '70s and was somewhat part of the psychedelic rock scene. Stan has some old photos of him during that time somewhere but Ford is absolutely mortified by the idea of you seeing him in bell-bottom jeans.

It doesn’t matter how long you two have been together, every time he sees you he feels the same as he did the day you two met. Ford will never stop becoming flustered at the sight of you.

Post-Weirdmaggedon he became very anxious at the thought of you being out alone or not being near him. He feels like he needs to be on guard at all times so that he can protect you. He eventually calms down after some reassurance from you and a fuck ton of therapy.

While he lacks some emotional intelligence he’s actually very attentive and knows exactly what you need when you’re upfront about your feelings. As long as you’re not vague and communicate, he knows what to do to help you.

Adding onto that, I think he briefly studied psychology in college so he’d have a pretty good understanding of any mental health issues you might have.

Said “No more Mr Nice Guy” one time and hasn’t heard the end of it from anyone.

NSFW

Has to stop himself from cumming too quickly when you tell him how good he’s making you feel. Stroking his ego (and other things) is the best way to get him horny.

Will always ask you for consent no matter what it is. You could be mid-fuck and he’d still ask if he could put his hands on your hips.

This is just my personal headcanon but I believe while he didn’t really have too much experience before he got stuck on the other side of the portal (probably hooked up with Fiddleford once or twice tho), I fully believe that after a few years of dimension-hopping, he would’ve had a few one-night stands (mans gotta blow off some steam). So when he gets the chance to fuck you, a real human from his dimension, he’s more than ecstatic, especially since he’s picked up more than a few tricks over the past thirty years.

Knows how to use all twelve of his fingers.

Since Ford was sucked into the portal in the early ’80s and spent thirty years in there, he’s super confused when you mention shaving down there or being embarrassed about your body hair (if you do either) since the last time he was around everyone preferred going all natural.

This one’s less sexy but I’m putting it here anyways. He avoided taking off his shirt for ages since he didn’t want you to see all the scars he’d gotten over the years or any of the tattoos related to the things he did in the portal, especially the ones related to Bill. Surprisingly not as insecure about his “Flirty Gal” tramp stamp.

Doesn’t understand that he’s ridiculously hot. 

You jokingly said “Yes sir” one time and he got hard so quickly.

Although he does rather enjoy you taking the lead.

Loves experimenting with cock warming and edging. Literally. He’ll time the both of you and have everything written down somewhere and draw a graph with extra info like if you’re someone with a menstrual cycle and how that affects the results.

[solargeist]

okay so i completely don't know what's up with the kid xelqua au... can i get a brief explanation... just so i know basically what's going on... (or direct me to a post that already has an explanation, that works too!)

oh man. Uhh… brief…. Xelqua is an alternative Watcher version of Grian from a different timeline, who turns into a kid, and Grian takes care of him.

Full explanation under the cut 😇

KidXelqua AU is a continuation of EvoAU.

EvoAU is my AU about Grian’s life in Evo and being manipulated into joining the Watchers, and the effects it’s had on him then and after. 

The Watchers were specifically like family to him.

In EvoAU, during season 8 of Hermitcraft, they open up a hole in the ground to the void, known as the boatem hole, just like canon. However, the void has an effect on Watchers, granting them their enchantments. This slowly, and unknowningly, starts to affect Grian, along with his sleep deprivation, and makes him paranoid.

This all happens late into s8, practically the end of it.

This introduces Xelqua, which is literally just a full Watcher Grian under a different name. 

Xelqua is basically a doomed timeline Grian, he has no home to return to, and he’s never known Hermitcraft. He has no friends nor family, so he spends his time traveling through the void. 

Somewhat similar to ~bill cipher, if you will, Xelqua destroyed his own timeline, so he’s forced into other timelines. This means his code is unstable. 

There’s a somewhat positive to this, Xelqua is chaotic and enjoys causing trouble, he’ll go into servers and wreck things before leaving. Mostly, he likes to find other versions of Grian and encourage troublemaking. Quietly dropping a weapon near Grian, and whatever happens, happens ! Xelqua likes to watch. 

So Xelqua finds Hermitcraft, the server seems to be unstable at the moment, the moon ? Not even Xelqua’s fault, he just got here! But he does notice the familiar energy from Grian, and it’s interesting, fun even. Xelqua listens to Grian’s paranoid rambles through Boatem, and watches plucked fathers gently float down into the darkness.

Typically, Xelqua wouldn’t do this, but he doesn’t often—if ever—meet other Watcher Grians, so he reaches up and drags Grian into the void with him, before possessing him.

Xelqua can only do this due to their codes being almost exactly alike. Real easy to puppet when the glove fits !!

Um. This part is a bit vague since I haven’t seen enough POVs for s8, lol, I know there’s a lot of lore going on, but !! Xelqua crawls out of the Boatem hole, and it’s actually not super fun piloting an exhausted sleep deprived Grian, his muscles feel like lead, his wings are itchy from the plucked feathers and lack of proper preening, and he has a raging headache. 

Xelqua can see the code structure of servers, he reaches out and tears away at it, breaking the firewall and protections X has on it. It looks a lot like barrier blocks or chunk borders from his perspective. 

This burns Grian’s hands, as he doesn’t have the talons that Watchers have.

This opens the server up to all sorts of trouble, Watchers take notice of the instability, on a server they didn’t even know existed ! Typically they’re watching every server.

A group of Watchers get involved, Xelqua is still fighting with Hermits, Xisuma shows up 15 minutes late with coffee to see his server collapsing on itself.

Xelqua, satisfied with the attention and destruction, (but mostly just tired), leaves Grian and flies back into the void, followed by a few Watchers.

The rest of the Watchers decide to shut the server down and force the players to leave. (Not like they had a choice Anyway, but watchers are strict and controlling.)

I don’t know if Grian’s original Watchers are involved in this or not—likely, because it’d be the only reason the others don’t just kill Grian right then and there or take him back to the void themselves. I won’t get into it here.

Anyway, whatever, leaving s8 goes as it does in canon, boatem crew travel through the void into their new server. Grian clings to Mumbo the entire time. (Prior to this, Mumbo was the only Hermit to know about Grian’s past.) (I mean besides Xisuma and Pearl, but more so.)

Grian explains himself to the Hermits when they’re all settled in s9, Xisuma helps. 

Grian also has a brief recovery period, his wings are damaged and unkept, his hands are burned, nails cracked, the exhaustion and body ache in general…. 

Obviously, Xelqua secretly follows them to season 9. But he doesn’t say or do anything for a long while, he’s content just watching the server, in between the code.

Eventually he does show himself to Grian again, but he’s quick to defend himself, saying he means no trouble this time !!! Promise !!!! He did raid Grian’s fridge though, oopsies. 

For a while, on and off, Xelqua hangs around Grian’s house—the weird wizard shoe looking one. Maybe sometimes The Entity. Xelqua is just curious abt Grian, he’s a Watcher too, and a Watcher that doesn’t currently hate him, so they’re practically family. Grian is tolerating him. They do talk though, Grian finds out who exactly Xelqua is, and it’s not hard to believe, they do look exactly alike in face and build, but it is weird anyway.

Like I mentioned earlier, Xelqua’s code is unstable, so one day Grian goes home and finds a little kid there, drinking juice out of his fridge. They startle each other. 

Grian is confused and immediately suspicious. He gets no actual answers from Xelqua beyond just his name.

Grian spends the next few days watching this kid, not fully believing this is an actual kid, he assumes Xelqua is tricking him or something. It’s a stressful few days, Grian doesn’t get much done running back and forth. He’s beginning to wonder if this kid is Xelqua’s kid, the kid denies this, but does say it’d be cool if true.

Grian is forced to tell Xisuma about this, and also admit that Xelqua is on the server again. Slowly Grian introduces the kid to other Hermits, since he doesn’t know how long he’ll have to watch him for, until Xelqua gets back, assumingly ? Grians incredibly stressed out abt this, he faults himself for s8, and it’s only been a few months, but he’s seemingly causing trouble for s9. He thinks he’s always causing trouble for Xisuma.

Kid Xelqua, just like the older one, is also in and out of the server. Online and offline, if you will. This is insanely scary the first time it happens. Grian just can’t find him anywhere, he may find him annoying, but still, it’s a kid, it’s scary. Grian contacts Xisuma again, and through ~game mechanics, checks to see if Xelqua is ~online. He’s not. Grian can only assume Xelqua is messing with him, and had left again.

Next time, when regular adult Xelqua is on the server, Grian confronts him, asking where the kid is, what happened, what does he want, etc. Xelqua has no idea what he’s talking about. Genuinely. 

Xelqua has an unstable code, and occasionally he switches into other versions of himself; there's only four but he takes on the personality and cognitive ability. The kid version is mentally, emotionally, and physically a child, he knows he’s a Watcher, but that’s it. The switch uuusually only happens off the server.

Grian learns and treats each version as their own. Since they all share the same name, I refer to the main one as the Saint, the kid is obviously The Kid, there’s an Evo version, and an extra uniformed Watcher one. They all have their own memories, feelings, and relationships. 

Xelqua has been compared to systems or age regression, he serves sorta as an analogy, but the AU revolves around healing and inner child. (Which, I support systems and age regression !)

SOOO !!!! THATS !!! Where Kid Xelqua comes from. It’s convoluted. 

Kid Xelqua still ages and grows, but depending on how poor the Saint’s mental state is, he might be smaller than usual, regressing almost. 

In general, Xelqua starts to view Grian as a brother, that’s how their dynamic is, but the kid starts to view him more like a dad. (Grian also starts to view the kid as his son, his special boy ! His joy !)

Originally, kid Xelqua was a one off thing for something irrelevant, I just became obsessed with it, and here I am a year later. Lol.

[nondelphic]

how do you come up with a new relatable writing post every hour??? /hj

short answer: i don't ( ╥ ᴗ ╥)

long answer: i'm usually busy with uni or something else so if i have a random idea i note it down in a google doc or if i have time i directly put it into my tumblr queue. but mostly my process is i spend about an hour or two every few days dedicated to coming up with new posts and adding them to my tumblr queue. i update this blog 10 times a day so i need a lot of posts hahah

sometimes i don't have time due to being extra busy, and then i'll take a short hiatus to get back on track. i prefer not posting for a few days and then get back to 10 posts a day over just posting once or twice a day.

and to answer your question of "how"... i don't know... lol. most of my posts these days are similar to what i've posted before, whether it's content-wise or structure-wise. i just checked and i have over 1300 posts rn (i started this blog in august 2024), so it's definitely a challenge to come up with "new" posts.

i have a few vague "categories" of posts i can pull ideas from, for example, genre-specific writing posts, where i just go through every literary genre i can think of and write a (hopefully) relatable post for that genre, or posts about specifically editing, etc. these categories somewhat help me come up with new ideas because it's more niche than another "i love and hate writing at the same time" post.

anyway, you probably didn't want this long of an answer, but i thought i'd answer it regardless, lol. thanks for the ask, and i hope you have a wonderful day/night/whatever! ♡

[psilliguykai]

And now I present to you…. The power hour OC absolutely nobody asked for…. Chonny Superstar !!

[general + character info under the cut]

I’ve been completely hyperfixated on Jesus Christ Superstar for the past few days [I think I’ve looped the album like . 7 times by now ??] BUT !! still got my CJ fixation going on in the background too so here’s the product of that lol.

Chonny Superstar is his name for now because honestly I’m not great at naming characters and have no other great ideas 😭 if anybody has suggestions feel free to put them in the comments :3

Info !! [putting it in the post rather than the sheet so I can change it later if I need to 👍] [WARNING: long. Also very mild mentions of death I guess??]

Character/story-related notes:

- Chonny Superstar

- He/Him [Bi, cis man]

- 28

- Hair is messy and greasy. Probably hasn’t been washed in months lol.

- Partially based on Tim Minchin’s Judas from the 2012 UK Arena tour [both in design and personality]

- I hate this guy so much /aff

- Very independent/sticking to his personal mission [whatever that is in the moment] but overall well intentioned and a good person in the end. He wants the best and is sometimes just shitty about it 👍 somewhat social, but mostly when he has a purpose (which could just be that he hasn’t talked to anyone in a while or wants to make some he knows happy !! Just doesn’t really like . Hang around people). also a cunt. Very important

- Doesn’t actually play a particular role in JCS, nor do I have a solid story for him at the moment. I’ve got this loose idea that he just kind of lives in an endlessly looping production of JCS which has gone on for so long that the people involved switch and meld roles with each loop or smth ?? But I might change this later we’ll see …

- Some thought was put into the order, but there really isn’t that much rhyme or reason to the tracklist apart from “I like it” and “it fits his vibe”. That said I want to make it known that “Hosanna” and “Gethsemane” would both be the 2000 movie lyrics and not the original concept album - as much as I love the originals “hey JC, JC, won’t you DIE for me?” and “thy will is hard, but you hold every card” hit hard imo [and fit Chonny Superstar better]

- Would probably never meet the other canon jashlings but would totally either get along very well or have massive beef with Ego [bc Tim Minchin and all that]. He’d get on fairly well with Devil [they share the “fuck you all” and “society is messed up” energies]. Jouse/Mori would probably freak him out but I could see him chilling with CJPH.

- lives/is from the sorta vague anachronistic time period most productions of JCS take place in. No phones for him.

- Has never heard a song apart from the ones in JCS and would probably be really freaked out by anything else lol

- Has probably died multiple times and will die many more 👍

Design-related notes:

- Scarf patterns can be inconsistent and aren’t required. Based on the thing Minchin wears in his performance 👍

- He can and does take the scarf off, just not during musical numbers since it’s a little awkward to deal with on stage lol

- Heavy eyeliner + some eyeshadow

- Crop top and netted shirt are from the Laplaces’s Angel video

- Jacket and jeans are based on the ones CJ wears as “Green” in TFFTT.

- Temperature-confused apparel. What are you wearing a crop top and netted shirt with a massive coat for?? Are you cold or not boy tell me???? /silly

- clothes are worn but not super dirty apart from mild food/drink stains. The result of living on a stage in a time loop 👍

[ro-is-struggling]

Second Chances || Johnny Storm x Reader

Summary: You run into Johnny in a bar and after he saves you from having to spend the night with what you were convinced was the most irritating man on earth, you decide to give him a second chance to get to know him better. Maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought…

Or the story of how you accidentally agreed to be friends with Johnny as if you were two little kids that hit it off in the playground. 

THIS IS PART 2 OF MY MINI-SERIES FIREPROOF! Masterlist + info (series summary & warnings) HERE

Warnings: fem!reader, reader having a terrible time in a bar, Johnny being a flirt, vague mentions of Johnny's tragic family past, fluff, bonding, I think that's it?

English is not my first language

Word count: 7600

Notes: sorry this took so long, it wasn’t supposed to exist lol Part 3 was originally supposed to be part 2 but I thought it was going to skip too far ahead in time (you'll see what I mean) so I decided to write this short(?) thing about how Johnny and reader go from strangers to somewhat friends. Parts 3 and 4 are almost ready so I don't think it will take me that long to post them.

Stay tuned for more and I hope you guys like it!

Do you want to get notified when I post? JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE!

You hated bars.

Well, that was a harsh way of putting it. You didn't hate bars all the time. But at this moment you definitely did.

You enjoyed going out drinking and dancing with your friends from time to time. While it wasn't your favorite activity —and you certainly could do the same in a quieter, more intimate setting— you recognized the de-stressing value of a good night out, especially after a week of midterms. You didn't always enjoy the people in the bars, especially the men, but it was nice to spend a night with friends laughing and dancing while the alcohol slowly washed away your worries.

However, tonight was not a casual gathering of friends looking to unwind from the pressures of college. No. Tonight, the bar represented everything you hated about those places since the focus was not on having a good time, but on getting Ellie a guy to help her stop crying about Johnny. Just as you thought it would happen, he got bored with her after a couple of encounters and, because of your threats, it didn't take long for him to have the “it's not you, it's me” talk with her. Ellie knew she shouldn't have taken their hookup seriously in the first place, but she had done it anyway, so the breakup —if it could be called that— had left her devastated. Luckily it wasn't one of those breakups that left her crying for weeks, but she kept talking about Johnny. She was becoming quite the stalker, following him around campus, taking note of the girls he talked to or went out with to compare herself to them. It was a little scary if you were honest. It wasn't like her at all, so one of your friends decided it was time to erase Johnny from her mind once and for all.

So now you were stuck at the bar near campus, pretending to be having a good time while you and your friends struggled to find Ellie a nice guy to spend the night with. While you knew this would be a difficult task from the start, you had no idea how difficult it actually would be. You had lost count of the number of mediocre guys who had approached your table in hopes of winning one of you over. They used cheap tricks and corny lines that made you roll your eyes every time they spoke. Your friends laughed at them with you at first, but as the hours went by, the alcohol and desperation slowly made them stop seeing it as ridiculous.

Soon it was just you and Ellie at the table. The rest of your friends had either already left with some guy or were dancing with one on the dance floor. You hadn't had too much to drink —you figured at least one had to stay relatively sober to keep the rest from doing something they would later regret—, and now you were cursing yourself for it. You weren't nearly drunk enough to be able to keep putting up with the cheap lines the guys were throwing around, honestly hoping that a couple of memorized and overused words would be enough to get in your pants. You hated every second you had to stay there and were ready to tell Ellie that they should call it a night. But before you could say anything, Mark sat down at your table to chat for a while.

He was like a breath of fresh air. He seemed genuine and funny, needing nothing more than his natural charisma to get your friend's attention in an instant. He didn't resort to using corny lines or disgusting remarks. He was just himself and that was enough to get Ellie on the dance floor for the first time that night. You were genuinely happy for your friend. If things went well, maybe she had finally found the perfect candidate to push Johnny out of her mind for good. However, Mark was not alone. He had a friend who had sat across from you and hadn't stopped looking at you since. And to your misfortune he didn't seem half as charismatic and genuine as Mark. So while all your friends were having fun you were stuck with a guy who thought that telling you about his gym routine was the right way to get into your —or any other woman's— pants.

You put up with this guy's poor attempts at flirting for as long as you could. You knew that as Ellie's friend your role there was to get the annoying friend out of the way so she could have some alone time with Mark. However, when he started talking about his supposed success at being his own boss —and how people were poor because they didn't try as hard as he did— you knew you had put up with too much. You jumped up from the table, making an excuse about going to the bar for drinks so you could escape the situation. You no longer cared about Ellie or her relationship problems. You needed to get out of there as soon as possible and never cross paths with that guy again in your life.

In your rush to escape, you didn't notice a figure approaching your table until a familiar voice echoed behind you.

“Y/n? There you are! I've been looking for you all night!” Johnny exclaimed with a smile.

Your expression changed from annoyed to confused in an instant. What was he doing there? And why was he talking to you as if you were best friends —as if your current misfortune wasn't his fault.

“Johnny?” was all you could manage to say, the confusion evident in your voice.

“Yes, silly! Were we supposed to meet, or have you forgotten already? Don't tell me you're already drunk!” He gave you a subtle wink and, once you got over the initial shock, you understood what he was trying to do.

Why Johnny Storm of all people in that bar was looking to help you escape your uncomfortable situation was something you didn't understand. But you didn't need to in order to take his help anyway. You were a proud woman, but not proud enough to deny the salvation he was offering you. Who cared about what he had done to your friend? At that moment you wanted to run from there and he was giving you the perfect excuse for that.

“You're right! I'm so sorry!” You played along with the charade, putting on a fake smile and pretending to be happy when you spoke. “I got distracted talking to... my friend here, but you're welcome to join us.” You cringed internally when you couldn't mention his name and you could swear that Johnny's lips quirked into a smile.

“What do you say I go get us some drinks first?”

“That's exactly what I was about to do! I'll join you.”

You didn't even turn to exchange words with Mark's friend before disappearing through the crowd towards the bar. Johnny took you by the waist to guide you through the crowd and you left him just because fighting with him at that moment was not in your best interest. You could still feel the other guy's eyes on your back, following your every step carefully. If you wanted to get away from him for the rest of the night, you had to make sure you made it clear to him that you were unavailable. And Johnny was giving you exactly that opportunity, so you couldn't fight him because the charade would be exposed.

However, when you reached the bar and were able to hide in the crowd of people ordering drinks, you took the opportunity to show Johnny how you really felt about him.

“Thanks for that... but you can keep your hands to yourself.” You said in a rather dry tone, pushing away the arm around your waist.

“Hey, I just saved your life back there! How about you show a little gratitude.” He snorted, but there was the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I'm not going to show you any gratitude after what you did, you're the reason I have to be here today!”

“What, did I somehow force you to come out of your cave and have some fun?”

“No, you idiot! I'm here because you broke up with Ellie!” You raised an accusatory finger and Johnny raised his hands in the air in surrender.

“And that's why you're mad at me? I thought that's what you wanted me to do! I was honest with her like you asked me to be, you can't blame me for that.”

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, annoyed that he was right. You couldn't be mad at him for doing the one thing you had asked him to do. You could hate him for the way he was in general or curse the moment he fixed his eyes on your friend, but at least he'd had the decency to talk to her and end the relationship before things got more serious. That was the least he could do, but at least he had done it. But still, Ellie was in bad shape because of him which meant he was your number one enemy.

“Still, you made her sad and because of you she dragged me here so I'm not going to talk to you anymore!”

You turned away, leaning back against the bar to wait for the bar tender to let you order. You hoped your attitude would be enough to get rid of Johnny, after all, you didn't really understand why he had decided to help you. However, his smile appeared once again in your field of vision. He settled on the bar next to you, one arm on the table supporting his weight as he looked at you with an amused expression that made your eyes roll.

“I wouldn't be so quick to kick me out just yet.” He leaned toward you to make sure you heard him over the sound of the music and the people around you. “'Cause your friend over there is coming over here. But I'm sure you were having a great time with him and that thing I saw on your face when I walked by your table wasn't annoyance at all, was it?”

“He's what?” your head turned with incredible speed, scanning the crowd for the figure of who you were sure was a government experiment designed to test your limits. Johnny let out a laugh, but your concern didn't let you even care about that.

“Don't look back!” He warned you and your eyes instinctively met his again. “I can get you out of here without him noticing, but you'll have to trust me.”

Your eyes darted to the dance floor, searching for Ellie in the crowd of people. Before deciding anything you wanted to make sure your friend was okay. You found her quickly, still dancing with Mark as she laughed. You assumed that things between them were going well and decided to believe that he was the one she would end the night with so you would feel less bad about running away. Looking back at Johnny, you let out an exhausted sigh. You didn't really like the idea of listening to him, but you also didn't like the thought of having to endure the boring stories that awaited you if you didn't get out of there quickly. You were caught between a rock and a hard place, although ultimately you knew which was the better option. Still, that didn't stop you from being suspicious of Johnny and his intentions.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you don't have much of a choice.” Johnny said as if it was obvious and you knew he was right. “Or much time. He's getting close.” He added, his eyes getting lost in the crowd behind you for a second before returning to your face.

“But why would you help me?” you insisted, ignoring his last comment.

“Because I felt sorry for you, you looked miserable out there with him.” You looked at him with narrowed eyes, distrust evident in your expression. “It's not a pick up trick if that's what you think.”

“Then why are you helping me?”

“You know what, if you don't trust me that's fine. I guess I'll leave you alone. Enjoy your night.”

Johnny patted you on the back and prepared to walk away, but he didn't make it more than a step before your hand clung to his arm. “Wait!” you hurried to say. “Don't go! I... I need your help.”

Johnny smiled at you and you feared for a moment you had made the wrong decision.

“Follow me!” was all he said before he grabbed your hand and dragged you into the crowd of people on the dance floor.

You let him guide you through the bar, pushing your way through the crowd of sweaty bodies until you found yourself on the other side of the dance floor. When you realized that Johnny was leading you towards the restroom area alarm bells started ringing in your mind. Surely he hadn't lied to you to get into your pants, had he?

“Where are you taking me?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

Johnny let out a laugh, knowing exactly where your mind was going. “Relax! We're almost there.”

As you passed the restroom area you breathed a sigh of relief. However, it didn't last long because he soon led you to an area of the bar you didn't recognize. And by the absence of people there you suspected that you weren't supposed to be there. You went down a staircase and ended up in a hallway so far away that the music started to become less audible.

“Are you going to murder me?” You joked and Johnny laughed.

“No, I'm going to set you free.”

With his free hand he pointed ahead and then you noticed the illuminated sign marking the back exit of the establishment. Pushing open the metal doors, you found yourself in an not-so-friendly alleyway. If you were alone you probably would have run inside as quickly as you had come out. It really looked like the place where a character from the first few minutes of a crime show would meet their end. It didn't have much lighting and it smelled terrible. And you were pretty sure that if you paid attention you could see the rats that inhabited the dumpsters. You didn't want to be there a second longer than necessary.

“Oh so you're really going to murder me.”

“Come on, my car is not far from here.”

Under normal circumstances you wouldn't have gone anywhere with Johnny, especially after having to put up with Ellie talking about him all week. But that place was creepy and you didn't feel comfortable walking alone to your apartment in the short dress you were wearing. So you held on to Johnny's arm and didn't put up a fight when he opened the passenger door of his car for you. You assumed he was going to take you home, but when he missed a turn and kept driving you looked away from the window to stare at him in confusion.

“You missed it, you had to turn there to get to my street.”

“I know. We're not going to your house yet.” Johnny didn't take his eyes off the road as he spoke, giving you even less of a clue as to what he was up to.

“Are you kidnapping me?”

“What is it with you and those comments, huh? I'm not a serial killer.”

“You're the one acting weird!” you defended yourself. “In my defense, all men are potential serial killers. And Ted Bundy was cute and charming too, so a girl can never let her guard down.”

Johnny took his eyes off the road to look at you for a second, a smile plastered on his lips. “You think I'm charming?”

You felt the heat of embarrassment in your cheeks, but you did your best to hide it. “Really, that's what you take away from that?”

Johnny shrugged. “A compliment's a compliment, even if it's a fucked up one like that.”

You rolled your eyes, deciding not to press the issue any further so as not to expose yourself even more. “Anyway... where are you taking me?”

“The night's still young and I'm hungry so I thought we could stop by and get something to eat before I take you home.”

“Oh.” You murmured, somewhat surprised that Johnny wanted to spend more time with you than was strictly necessary. “I appreciate you asking for my opinion. That was very nice of you.” You added in a sarcastic tone.

“Oh my god, there's no way to please you, is there?” He rolled his eyes, but you knew from the tone of his voice that he wasn't really upset. More like amused you'd say. “I save you back there, take you out for a bite to eat so you don't end the night so badly, and this is how you treat me, huh?”

This time it was your turn to roll your eyes at his feigned pain. But you couldn't deny that he was partly right. You were being a little mean to him, but you couldn't help it. That was your natural reaction when interacting with people you didn't trust, especially people like Johnny. Sarcasm was your defense mechanism and, while you recognized that it made people not like you very much, you weren't willing to change it.

“I'm just saying I'd like to know beforehand.” you doubled down. 

Johnny smiled. He liked your attitude. He wasn't used to girls being themselves around him. Usually they acted a certain way to get his attention, always saying yes to everything, always playing a kind of cat and mouse game. He knew how to play that game very well, almost too well to the point that it was getting boring. He knew what the girls were going to say before he even approached them, which was fine when he was looking for some late night fun, but terrible when he wanted to have a conversation with someone.

In that sense, you were a breeze of fresh air with your strong character and sarcastic remarks. You weren't looking to impress him and you didn't fall for his charisma. You were simply being you and that intrigued him. Since meeting you the morning he woke up in your apartment, Johnny found himself thinking of you from time to time. He recognized you when he saw you in the hallways and wondered if you would ever get another chance to interact. That's why when he saw how uncomfortable you looked at the bar he didn't hesitate to come to your rescue. And that was also why he had made the unilateral decision to invite you to dinner. Johnny wanted to get to know you better, to understand why you awakened so much interest in him.

He stopped at a drive through to order some food and then drove a while longer until he pulled into the parking lot of a supermarket that was closed. You remained silent the whole time —except for telling him your order—, stealing the occasional chip from the bag as you looked out the window, wondering where he was taking you. When Johnny finally stopped the car, he got out and hurried to open the door for you. In one hand he took the bag with the orders in it and wrapped his other hand around yours to help you stand upright in the heels you were wearing.

“Wow, you shouldn't have.” You said, your tone equally sarcastic as you inspected the place.

It wasn't the prettiest spot in town, that was for sure. The fences that enclosed the place were rusted and covered with overgrown vines. There was some graffiti on the walls and a couple of oil stains on the pavement. The place had a bit of a creepy vibe. It was unusual to see a place like that so empty and there was something about it that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. However, when you looked up you discovered that it had a nice clear view of the sky. The stars were shining beautifully in the dark night sky and that was almost enough to put aside the scary vibes of the place.

“You see, you talk a lot about not wanting to murder me but you bring me to the most isolated place in the whole city.” You joked. “I feel like you're giving me mixed signals. What are we doing here?”

“I come here sometimes when I want to think.” Johnny shrugged as he pulled the food out of the bags, using the hood of the car as a table. “It's pretty quiet in here, don't you think?”

“You think? Who knew.” You regretted that comment the moment it left your lips. You didn't mean to be so aggressive with him, it was just that sometimes you found it hard to turn off the sarcasm once you turned it on. It was the reason you didn't have many friends.  You had to work on that, but it was easier said than done.

Luckily Johnny took no offense at your comment. He simply sat on the hood of the car and popped a couple of fries into his mouth, his eyes never losing that amused sparkle. “Unbelievably, yes. I know what you're thinking 'cute, smart AND sensitive? That must be a lie!' But I assure you it's not, I'm the whole package, baby.” He winked at you and you let out a laugh.

“Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking, how did you know?”

“It's one of my many talents.”

Johnny invited you to sit in the car with him, which you awkwardly did. You ditch your heels immediately, tossing them with mild hatred a couple of feet away from you. You smile as you feel the freedom to move your feet with ease, slowly regaining the feeling in your toes. The tight dress wasn't the most comfortable in the world for the position you were in, but you made it work.

“Give me your jacket.” You said as you popped a potato chip into your mouth.

“Are you cold yet? Should I stand up and do the whole show of draping my jacket over your shoulders like a gentleman?”

“No, silly. This dress is incredibly short and I tend to cross my legs a lot so I don't want to accidentally flash you.” A cheeky grin came across Johnny's face and you knew then what kind of comment he was going to blurt out, so you hurried to shut him up. “Whatever is going through your head, keep it to yourself or I swear to god I'll walk from here to my house.” You added, your accusatory finger pointed straight at his face. He raised his hands in the air in defeat, though the smile did not leave his lips. He still gave you his jacket and you secured it in your lap before doing anything else.

You ate in silence for a while, the soft sounds of the city at night and the sipping of the drinks were the only things you could hear. Normally in that kind of situation you looked calm on the outside but your mind was a worried mess. When you were stuck with a person you didn't know you were always worried that things wouldn't feel awkward. You wanted to be nice, but you could never find the words or the time to say something that would start the conversation. And suddenly the air would start to feel tense and you were never able to tell if it was just you or if the other person was feeling it too. Then it became harder and harder to say something—what if you sounded weird? What if the other person didn't want to talk to you and the very fact that you opened your mouth bothered them? What if it was the complete opposite and by taking too long you had ruined your chances of striking up a conversation? What were people supposed to say in casual conversation? And by the time you realized it, the other person was gone, probably thinking you were weird or rude.

However, sitting quietly next to Johnny didn't bring any of that up. You were just there, eating while enjoying the soft cool evening breeze, not even thinking about what to say or do to fill the silence that had formed. And when you realized that, it confused you. You didn't expect to feel so comfortable with Johnny Storm of all people. You wondered if it was because of the alcohol still coursing through your veins —though you hadn't really had much to drink—, or if maybe it could be because you had no desire to impress Johnny. After all, he wasn't just any stranger. He was someone you never in a million years could have imagined sharing a moment like this with. You two were so different on the surface that you hadn't even imagined ever having a conversation with him, much less a friendly one. You didn't see the point in getting his attention or even generating a friendly relationship because guys like him generally didn't look twice at girls like you –for any reason, romantic or platonic. And maybe that was what was allowing you to be so free, the lack of expectations.

“How did you know about that back exit at the bar?” your voice broke the silence and for once you felt comfortable doing so.

“Well, let's just say I know some people on the staff.” Johnny said with a mouth full of food.

“Well of course you do! I should have seen that one coming.” You shook your head, disappointed in yourself for not having considered the implications behind Johnny's words sooner. Now that you thought about it, it sounded stupid to have asked. Of course he knew probably more than one of the girls who worked there very intimately.

“Hey! I'm more than just a player, you know?” He pretended to be offended, holding a hand to his chest to emphasize the pain your accusations caused him.

“You don't act like that.”

“Well, maybe I only do it for the right people.” He looked very proud of that line, but you had to purse your lips to keep from smirking.

Arching an eyebrow at him, you said, “Does that line usually work on women?”

Johnny let out a chuckle, surprised at how easily you seemed to read him. “Surprisingly, yes.”

“That's okay, Storm. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt.” You sighed suddenly, wiping the salt off your hands with a napkin before reaching for your drink. “Show me you're more than a flirt.”

“Uh, a challenge. I like it! Now you're starting to speak my language. What do I have to do?”

“Hold a serious, normal conversation for more than 10 minutes without resorting to cheap lines or meaningless flirting. And maybe I'll start to consider that you're a multifaceted person.”

“But my flirtatious attitude is my best trait!”

“So you agree with me then, all you think about is sex.” You took a moment to sip your nearly empty drink, using the annoying sucking sound to emphasize your point. “Tell me, Johnny, why is it so hard for you to take things seriously?”

“Who are you, my therapist?” He let out a chuckle, but you could swear it was more out of nerves than amusement. You felt a little proud of that. Not many people could make Johnny Storm nervous.

“I'm just one person trying to generate a connection with another person. Usually for that to happen people talk, mostly from a place of honesty and earnestness.” Your sarcastic tone came through again, only a little softer this time. You were beginning to feel really intrigued by what Johnny might answer. Being someone who saw the world completely differently, you couldn't help but wonder how his mind worked. “ What do you do when you talk to the girls you go out with?”

“Well, for starters I don't usually get into arguments about the meaning of life or anything like that.”

“You don't have to get all philosophical to engage in a mildly meaningful conversation with someone.” You rolled your eyes. “What do you talk to them about?”

“There's usually not a lot of talking, if you know what I mean.”

“So you really just repeat a couple of corny lines and that's it?”

Johnny shrugs. “There's a little more to it, but yeah. I'm not looking for a relationship, I just want to have a good time.”

“Still, that sounds boring.”

“Maybe, but it works.”

“So you never talk about your life or your interests with the girls you date?”

Your disbelief was evident. You knew Johnny's attitude wasn't strange. Quite the contrary, most men had that approach to dating and sexual relationships. It was the reason why finding a partner was so complicated for you. However, you found it strange that he didn't see anything wrong with being so emotionally distant from the people he slept with. That was definitely a 'you' problem, because other women were clearly delighted to pass through his sheets without having the slightest connection outside of the physical aspect of it. But for you it was impossible to separate the two. How could you be sexually attracted to someone you didn't know? It sounded like a nightmare.

“I suppose I do, but not to any great extent unless I can use it to my advantage, like my interest in cars.” Johnny shrugged. “I'm sorry, but I don't understand why a girl I don't know would have to hear about the last time I visited my sister or my life story before we had sex.”

“I don't know, maybe so they can get to know you a little better?”

“If I do that they'll think I'm looking for something more serious and they'll never stop chasing me.”

“They already think that, Johnny.” You rolled your eyes. “You're not exactly great at letting people know your true intentions all the time.” Your mind drifted back to your friend and how despite it having been one of the quickest and most honest breakups in Johnny's history as far as you knew —thanks to your intervention— she had still caught feelings for him. And while that wasn't entirely his fault, it was undeniable that he hadn't been entirely upfront with his intentions —at least not explicitly.

“Why am I being judged? You're the weird one! Casual sex is a thing and lots of people enjoy it!” Johnny countered finally, raising an accusatory finger in your direction. “In fact, I think you'd have more fun in life if you'd stop being so uptight. I know at least you would have had a better time tonight.”

“Oh yeah, and stay with Mr. Self-centered back there? No thanks.”

“Oh come on, it couldn't have been that bad!”

“I thought that at first too, but then he started telling me about his gym routine in extreme detail like it mattered to anyone but him and I knew he was an idiot.”

Johnny grimaced in disgust. “His mind was in the right place, but he completely blew it with the execution. He was supposed to make you touch his abs or his biceps so you could feel his muscles.” You shook your head, unable to believe he was taking the time to correct your horror date's flirting techniques. But still, you couldn't help but let out a chuckle as you imagined the sequence. Did Johnny really think that could work on you?

“That's even worse!”

“No it isn't! Look, touch my arm and tell me how it feels.” Johnny winked at you, flexing one of his arms to highlight his muscles. You rolled your eyes and threw a crumpled paper napkin in the center of his face to make him stop.

“Are you flirting with me, Johnny? Because that would prove me right, you know? It hasn't even been five minutes and you're already resorting to overused tactics to try to get me flustered.”

“I'm not! I'm simply showing you what he should have done.”

“Instead of that why don't you tell me something about yourself.”

“Something like what?”

“I don't know, something that lets me get to know you a little better. Something you wouldn't tell one of your conquests.”

Johnny didn't take more than a couple of seconds to think about what to answer, blurting out the first thing that came to his mind. “Well, I was raised by my aunt. My mother died when I was a kid in a car accident...my father is out of the picture too, so my aunt had to take care of me and my sister. Poor Aunt Mary couldn't control me, so I guess that's when my rebellious attitude started to develop.”

Even though Johnny was smiling, you could notice a change in his attitude. The playful sparkle disappeared from his eyes, replaced by a more sober expression. He tried to act casual to hide how uncomfortable it made him feel to be so vulnerable, but he wasn't doing a very good job at it. It was a rare thing to witness. He was a very confident guy, so much so that it was annoying at times, but that attitude seemed to have evaporated. His eyes were focused on an oil stain on the floor, completely lost in thought. He was silent, but he didn't seem to be waiting for a response from you. Rather, he seemed to be having a conversation with himself in the depths of his mind.

For the first time since you met him, you saw Johnny for what he was: a normal guy with a life story as complicated as everyone else's. Not that you didn't know it before, but it was hard to remember when he went to so much trouble to hide it with the way he acted all the time. You didn't have much of a relationship with him, so you usually just saw him as a jerk who enjoyed playing with the hearts of the women he seduced. You didn't necessarily hate him, but you didn't love him either. And while all that might still be true, you were now able to see beyond the image he had created of himself. With those few words he had been able to show you a glimpse of his true self. And you liked that.

The least you could do after that was to return the favor.

“The reason I'm this... structured and focused on my studies is because I want to prove to my family that I can be somebody... that I can do something with my life.” You broke the silence with your confession, drawing Johnny's attention back to you. As he looked at you, his eyes had a softness in them that you had never noticed there before. It helped you not to feel intimidated by opening up about something so personal in front of him. “They never believed much in me so I never believed much in myself. Until I got my acceptance letter, so I made it my mission to graduate with honors.” You let out an uncomfortable chuckle, not quite knowing how to proceed after such a revelation.

Johnny was surprised by your words. He found it hard to believe that you had such a negative image of yourself, especially in relation to academics. He didn't know you very well, and yet he could safely say that you were the smartest and most prepared person on campus. It was a little sad that you weren't able to see that. But it was even worse that you went out of your way to impress people who didn't deserve it.

That was the moment he decided he should stay close to you. You needed him in your life even if you didn't realize it. You needed someone like him to help you remember that it was your life and you should live it according to your desires, not the expectations of others. He could help you loosen up a little and release the fun part of you that he knew you were hiding inside.

“Fuck that! You don't have to prove anything to anyone.” Johnny said and you were surprised by the honesty in his voice. “You should live your life for you and not to meet someone else's expectations. We only get one shot at this, and it's too short, so we should make sure we live up to our own desires.”

“Thank you, Johnny. That was... very profound and smart of you.” You smiled at him, but this time it wasn't sarcasm. You were genuinely impressed with his words. It was a very Johnny thing to say, but it painted him in a different light. Knowing what you knew about him now put some depth to his everyday actions. He wasn't annoyingly reckless just for the fun of it, there was more weight behind it, a thoughtfulness and awareness you didn't consider he had.  

“I told you I'm more than just a pretty face.” Johnny sounded proud of himself, gloating at being able to tell you 'I told you so' after you didn't want to believe him. You couldn't help but giggle.

“You're right, you are. But I'm right too, because I never would have figured it out if you didn't open up to me and we had a normal adult conversation.” You pointed out and Johnny rolled his eyes at your smartass attitude. “See, human connection! Now that I know you a little better I see you as more than the annoying playboy who broke my friend's heart... And I hope you can see me in a different light too. Isn't that nice?”

“No 'cause now I'm sad because you made me have deep thoughts.”

“It's okay to feel sad sometimes, especially with the right person.”

“Why would I want to be sad when I can not be sad if I don't think about it?”

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed, unable to believe your ears. How was it possible for Johnny to go from saying one of the wisest things you'd ever heard to...that in such a short time? He really was a multifaceted guy. “Do I have to explain emotions to you as if you were a five year old? They are normal, they are part of the human experience and a functioning adult like you shouldn't bottle them up inside. It's healthy to let them out from time to time, even the ugly ones, especially if you find the right person to do it with.”

“So what you're saying is... you're the right person.”

“What? No! I mean, I don't know... if you want me to.” His words took you by surprise to such an extent that you didn't know how to react.

Your first reaction was to refuse, making a weird expression, a mixture of disgust and surprise. You weren't looking to have a friendship with Johnny, he was rather forcing it by continuing to show up in your life. But then you felt bad about how quick you were to dismiss him. Maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought he was. Maybe you weren't so different. Maybe he really needed someone to talk to and this whole thing was his weird way of asking for it without having to say it. Or maybe he was just trying to fuck with your mind. One could never be sure of anything with Johnny.

“Why the sudden fluster? Don't you want to be my friend? After all that! I showed you my soul, opened up to you and all for you to reject me? I can't believe it! And you said you were better than me, ha!”

You knew he was joking, his exaggerated tone and the way he touched his chest in feigned pain gave it away, but it still made you feel bad for what you said. “I didn't mean that! You caught me off guard... I mean, do you even want to be my friend?”

Johnny shrugged. “Why not? You seem nice and I must admit I enjoyed our little chat.”

You smiled at his words, although you didn't quite understand why. “Okay, I guess we can be friends... but no bullshit!” You added that last once again raising your accusatory finger.

Johnny let out a chuckle, throwing his hands up in the air. “No bullshit, I promise.”

A small silence formed then. It wasn't necessarily uncomfortable, but it wasn't pleasant either. You could both read in each other's faces how surprised and bizarre you found the situation you were in, but neither seemed to want to back down. As strange as it seemed, it was also interesting. Both of you were intrigued by what this new friendship might bring to your lives.

It was a challenge for the two of you. If you were honest with yourself, you didn't have much faith that things would work out. You figured he would get bored of you in a couple of days —weeks if you were being optimistic— and never speak to you again. You wouldn't blame him for that, you didn't feel like you were interesting and you didn't know how much fun you could have with someone who was so different from you.

But Johnny was a completely different story.  He wasn't someone who ran away from a challenge, and as sweet as your talk was just then, becoming your friend was exactly that: a challenge he would have to overcome. It was exciting and intriguing, exactly what he needed to escape the monotony he'd been stuck in lately. You seemed like a nice person despite your differences, which he didn't see as a negative. He felt he could learn a few things from you, as well as teach you a few others.

“Do we shake on it?” Johnny broke the silence. “Or maybe we make a blood pact like in the movies.”

“No dumbass! We're not kids.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Now take me home, it's getting late and tomorrow I have to get up early to study.”

“Fine, but just so you know, there will be a lot less studying if you're my friend. You need to enjoy life a little more.”

You rolled your eyes. “Good, well then there will be a lot less quick hookups and more sharing of our feelings if you're my friend.” You went along with the joke. You expected him to complain, but Johnny didn't seem to mind.

“All right. Then please allow me...” He jumped up from the hood and walked a couple of steps to reach the heels you had thrown away when you arrived. “I can't let you touch the pavement with your bare feet. Let me help you.”

Before you could object Johnny knelt down in front of you like a man in love about to propose to his partner. Only instead of a ring he offered you your heels. He took your right leg gently and rested your foot on his thigh as he tried to figure out which shoe to place on which foot. Your skin tingled under his touch, your face hot from the intensity of Johnny's gaze as he carefully fitted your shoe. You knew he was playing with you, you could read it in his face, and yet you could do nothing but stand there, frozen in place as you let him take care of securing the heels back on your feet. Even though he was doing it to tease you, there was something incredibly intimate about his action that left you feeling stupid. His fingers lingered on your skin for a few seconds longer than necessary, arousing warmth in its path. His gaze traveled from your legs to your eyes and back to your heels, admiring your figure in a way you weren't sure another man had ever done before. Everything seemed to move in slow motion —the ticking of the clock, his fingers, your breathing, the night breeze hitting your body. Everything but your heart, which was pounding in your chest with an increasingly faster and stronger rhythm.

You managed to come out of your trance when he finally pulled his hands away from your body. So you took your foot off his thigh and jumped up, as if suddenly the metal of the car burned you. You felt embarrassed that you had fallen for his trick and even more embarrassed that he knew you had bought into his game. The damn bastard had done it on purpose, just to show you that he could, that you were no different from the others even though you presented yourself that way, and that with the right approach you could fall under his spell like all the others.

“What did I just tell you about all this bullshit?” You threw his jacket violently at him before making your way to the side of the car. Johnny caught it in mid-air, letting out a laugh that you found in equal measure charming and annoying.

“What? I was just being nice!” He played it off, throwing his hands up in the air in innocence. You decided to answer him by slamming the car door after settling into the passenger seat, crossing your arms over your chest. But all you did was make him laugh even harder.

“You look adorable when you get mad... and when you get flustered too.” He teased you as he put the key in to start the car.

“Drive or I'll end up being the one who kills someone tonight.”

[catboysooyoung]

The official illustration for the bureau agents (agent Choi and bronze) is out, and someone on KR twt didn't waste time putting all the Ryu's in the Baek Deoksoo novel universe side by side, and everyone's noting how similar they look (they're all handsome (lol), have similar cold features and a stylistic blueish glint in their eyes)

Not sure if this was just a nod to Debut or Die, or if it implies that Jaekwan is in fact, part of the same Pungsan Ryu clan, but it kills me to imagine a Ryu Jaekwan who's distantly related to Ryu Cheongwoo and exists the same time as him, because that guy has always been famous, even before he was an idol he was a national athlete, for god's sake. Just imagine the conversations poor agent Bronze would have to go through.

"Yes, I'm related to that athlete/boy group leader. No, I can't get you autographs because I hardly talk to him, we are very distant cousins, so no I don't have any pictures of him because I haven't gone to the family reunions since forever, and even if I did have pictures of him, I wouldn't disclose it to you because I can't risk having it leaked on the internet and that would be a breach of his privacy."

Conversely, it would be hilariously ironic if Ryu Geonwoo was vaguely aware of a distant cousin who did make it as a civil servant (in a way...) in some random government body, and maybe wished he had his luck in the coming civil servant exams... Without knowing that the distant cousin in question is literally going into ghost stories and urban legends for a living, something Geonwoo/Moondae wouldn't even dream of doing given his fear of ghosts and anything horror.

Also a bit interesting if they do turn out to be related, because it's like these guys are somewhat mired with misfortune...

One guy got into an accident and had to switch careers due to a permanent injury

One guy got into an accident and lost his family and had to switch careers because he was forced to live in another person's body

If Jaekwan really was part of the same clan, I wonder if he was also involved in that accident while they were all heading to that Ryu clan family gathering, and if it had any tie-in with his reason for joining the bureau. Also considering his luck in his missions so far, and the fact that he wasn't really a named character in KSE's memory/wiki, I really doubt that he would've made it this far without KSE/the plot's intervention... (e.g. BSH would def have killed him in that lodge, and in looky mart, he would've been discounted meat). And this is not to discredit him, but I'm just playing with the theory a little bit...

Because 1 - 2 Ryu's having incredibly shitty luck can still be brushed off as mere coincidence or plot convenience, but 3? Lol, I'd start thinking they were cursed or something.

Anw I'm just randomly theorizing here so please don't take this post as a summary of canon events.

[louisisalarrie]

Hi! Can you pls give your opinion on where mcdom stunt is successful or not? I have difficulties to see the bigger picture.

Here on tumblr I’m in a larrie bubble, on ig I see more gf shippers but the engagement is not high on their ua’s, max 150 likes per post

Do you think the majority of fans and gp buy their relationship? And do you think Louis/his team is happy how it’s all going on?

ok this actually turned out longer than I thought. The photos today pissed me off lol and I hate seeing yall sad. anon, welcome to the show

no matter what “gf” any of those boys have, a portion of fans ruuunnnnn to create ua’s and essentially kiss the stunt’s ass to look like a “good” fan. people are doing that even with Zara and she’s very problematic lol.

I really don’t think the majority of fans are buying this. the ones who do are very loud and are being awful, but whatever. I see a lot of solos actually being like “oh shit larries said this would happen….” and believing the stunt less too. but you know what makes this the most unbelievable bit of the stunt? Is that it’s her.

listen… blonde, leggy, pretty, sure. but Louis’ type? no. very different views on life, experiences, circles (how tf did they even meet lol? the twins I assume?), and priorities. the demographics don’t cross over enough for this to be successful. their interests, attitudes, body language, EVERYTHING like none of it fits right.

now, if i was going to give him a stunt, I’d find someone who’s not going to isolate and infuriate his fans based on their recent behaviours and beliefs, and maybe find someone who’s a little more in the same circle where they “met through friends”. perhaps even his sister set them up. and you know what else I’d do?

get someone with a demographic crossover who’s relatable to the fans. get someone who is “cool” and a bit punky and makes good music and could also benefit from stunting. get someone who’s just lowkey enough where they still have a solid fanbase, but not enough to make it unbelievable. get someone who has similar artist to fan relationships with their fandom. get someone with the same (at least very similar) opinions/views/attitudes that my client has, as to not make him look like an absolute arse. get someone who maybe has some kind of ties with niall’s gf to reenforce the legitimacy. get someone who hasn’t been cancelled multiple times. get someone who my client is at least somewhat comfy with and has a vested interest in my client’s career. get someone who’s learnt the fandom dynamics my client has, particularly the fact that half his fans believe he’s dating a man. get someone who understands how to navigate a fandom like this. get someone who looks true to themselves and cares about the people around them. get someone who is somewhat my client’s type. like even a little bit. just a smidgen. a tiny drop.

and then you know what I’d do?

I would monitor the fandom’s reaction. I would spend time understanding what the relationship means to the fans. I would make changes based on what I think will fit the narrative better. I would advise my client’s stunt to not stare smugly straight into the camera in a place where pap rules are very strict and there shouldn’t be pics of them anyway. I would hold back on the PDA because it’s obvious it’s pushing the fans away from believing it. I would revise the previous stunt strategies and learn from them and veer off from the same steps as last time as it’s clear it doesn’t work. I’d also have said stunt relationship quieter and less in your face and actually have my client chat to the fans and keep up a good relationship and provide them with some other content than just have his entire personality be his new gf. I would also advise him, and everyone who has access to his account, not to make vague and weird tweets that are going to do nothing but make the fandom fight more.

But that’s just me.

[mer-acle]

i know i should not ask this but, what are your Athena ig wump headcannons :3 dont worry i have alot of time on my hands

okay okay okay

I think I'm gonna make this mainly trauma/whump potential themed. Like think, how do you break the owl? lol

Pain: I don't see Athena as scared of pain in general. She wouldn't mind being nicked in battle or something (she would bc of pride and being told she has to be perfect, but not the pain) I am willing to bet she's cut herself out of curiosity of what it feels like. Now if there's pain on top of other stuff, that's when she starts to fall apart. She's not used to dealing with physical pain, and if she's otherwise compromised (read: God Games) it becomes a problem.

Breathing: That's more of a general god hc I decided for whump purposes. The gods do have a breathing reflex and while they don't die from lack of oxygen + don't have negative effects if they actively choose not to breathe (like underwater), but like... yes gods can hyperventilate... or have trouble breathing... do with that what you will (like i do, I reaaaallly do stuff with this factoid)

Water: It's a winged!Athena specific one for me, but could be applied to any version. Athena's not a fan of water in general and afraid of being fully submerged in particular. She got somewhat used to it after a while living with Triton, but since Pallas' death, it's gotten worse and she hasn't really been in the water since. (This all came to be bc I found out that owls are actually terrible swimmers bc their wings aren't waterproof so they just have to get to shore to dry off... and wings weighed down by water sounds pretty scary

Control: Kinda vague, but shapes my entire approach to her. Athena is all about control. Anything that messes with that is BAD. Fever? An injury that you can't just push your way past? Drugs, medical or otherwise? She would literally rather be in excruciating pain. Like... if she's mentally not well, having shaky hands or dropping something might already be cause for a negative spiral it's that bad. Speaking of...

Mental health (Pt. 1) (to be continued) Ah I posted accidentally okay wait I'll make a part 2 and link it 😖

[flowerquib]

CREATION

why must you hurt me why must you hate me why must you do i need this is this for me

do i need pain?

...I am important.

guys i love him so muchhhh ahhh i meant to post this yesterday but I forgor

anyways

very brief character sheet bc im gonna go on a ramble

Main things: - he has no face besides a mouth qtubbo built (i will get into that) - the wheel of glowing eyes constantly move - he's like an inverse of my qtubbo design (the robotic parts of his body switched sides)

I have 2 stories but one thing stays the same

Creation acts as a guardian/protector off the eggs and uses any force necessary (aka his pointing making people disappear or making them "logging out")

ALRIGHT to my little story (based off hc and the theories)

PRESENT ROBOT Creation was made by qtubbo (in the present) and is gaining his own consciousness. That's why the others can't tell qtubbo. This also goes off the theory of fed tubbo (or not it kinda doesn't matter?) Basically, Creation was made up by a spare qtubbo body that qtubbo found. The spare body was a failed experiment by the fed that they threw out. Qtubbo found it and was like "hey this could be cool." He built this robot that is somewhat sentient (connected emotionally to qtubbo in a way).

TIME TRAVEL Creation is a future qtubbo that has been so changed/deformed that has come back to the present. He vaguely knows who he is and his purpose. He's just a confused little guy. I might go back to add more but that's the basis for this one. okay thats all i have rn ive been distracted by tubbo stream lol

[fleurywiththesave]

OKAY okay lol now see this is so far from the truth BUT i just saw that gif of Matty/Perry Ellis thingy again AND stylist mattdrai au?

oooooh. OOOOOOH, anon. I don't know if you mean Matthew as the stylist or Leon as the stylist, but I can actually see it going either way. Matthew is the intensely enthusiastic rising star who Leon is strong-armed into going to see for some new game day suits, and he wasn't prepared for how peppy Matthew would be. Or how long his eyelashes would be.

OR Leon is the somewhat abrupt and oddly aggressive stylist and tailor who all the best guys use for their NHL Awards duds, and Matthew is convinced to enlist his services because "he'll make you miserable, but he'll make you look great." Only Matthew's not miserable. Other than the fact that Leon seems so determined to make him put clothes on when he really thinks he'd rather be taking them off.

You know what, as long as we're all here.....

Matthew is quite certain that if he had to choose between spending twelve hours getting fitted for a suit or spending twelve hours getting dental surgery, he'd pick dental surgery before Satan had even finished asking the question. But Ekky insists that this guy is the best of the best and that Matthew just needs to put up with whatever he says if he wants to look halfway decent on the red carpet.

He's pretty sure that means that this Leon isn't going to let him wear his slides with a suit.

He almost walks past the storefront, if it even counts as that. It's an unassuming door that must lead into a space behind the specialty foods market that occupies the windows. The narrow hallway just leads to another door, and Matthew has to briefly consider the possibility that Ekky has secretly obtained the rights to his life insurance and is planning to have him murdered before he braces himself and opens it.

"Hello?" he calls. There's a desk, but no one sitting at it, and zero signage to confirm that he's in the right place. "Hello?"

"Matthew." It's not a question. The guy who's just emerged from the back is staring at him. Matthew is staring too, but he has a feeling it's for very different reasons. He's staring because Leon turns out to be no more than thirty, with the best hair Matthew's ever seen and thick-framed black glasses that are kind of making him sweat behind the knees.

Leon is staring with something more like horror, scanning Matthew from head to toe like a robot and apparently not at all happy to see his ripped-neck Panthers shirt, athletic shorts, and the trusty slides. Matthew has a vague idea that perhaps he should apologize. Leon closes his eyes — actually closes his eyes — for a second and takes a deep breath before speaking again.

"Okay. It's okay, we have time. Come with me."

The dim hallway and tiny foyer turn out to be misleading, as Leon leads Matthew into a massive room with brilliant lighting and more racks of clothes than he's ever seen in his life. The walls are decorated with pictures of what must be some of Leon's clients, all dressed and styled to the nines. Matthew even spots a photo of Henrik Lundqvist, damn. Maybe he is in the right place.

"Okay," Leon says, coming to a stop by some of the racks and flipping through them with almost disturbing efficiency. "NHL Awards. Rule number one: pick something other than the ass to emphasize. Anyone who's watched a single hockey game has been there, done that."

"Well, what if that's my best feature?" Matthew can't help but ask. Leon glances back at him and snorts.

"No. Rule number two. No. Sneakers. That's for actors trying to fake relatability at the Oscars. You'll wear dress shoes and you'll like it."

Matthew resists the urge to hide his sandals behind the potted plant in the corner.

"What's rule number three?" he asks.

"That depends on how much trouble you give me," Leon answers. "All right, we'll start with these three racks. What jumps out?"

Matthew hasn't been this nervous about giving the wrong answer to a question since his post-draft interviews. He studies the array of suits in front of him and starts to feel a little dizzy from all the choices. He had no idea they could come in so many colors and patterns. Does Brady know about this?

"Well, okay," he finally says, looking at a gray suit that seems like a reasonably safe option. "I kind of like this—"

"No," Leon says flatly before Matthew can even pick up the hanger, and he snatches his hand back like he's been burned. "Single-breasted only."

"Um. Right. Then how about—"

"Absolutely not. Do you want to look washed out?"

"I don't—"

"Try this one," Leon says, pulling a lighter-than-navy blue suit off the rack and shoving it at him. "With the cream shirt."

Matthew stares at the array of white button-downs in front of him. He swears he can hear Leon's soul dying as he sighs and picks one up.

"This. Go."

When Matthew comes back out, trying not to draw attention to his bare feet, Leon slides his glasses down and studies him carefully, even walking in a circle around him several times. Matthew tries to stay still, but it's not so easy when that behind the knees sweating is picking up again and Leon is close enough for Matthew to get a whiff of his cologne, which is somehow earthy and light at the same time.

"Good," Leon finally proclaims. "Look in the mirror, tell me if you like it."

"Oh," Matthew says when he steps in front of the trifold mirror. He wasn't expecting to be surprised — a suit is a suit, right? — but apparently this particular suit is subtly different from any of the ones he owns. He seems tall and strong, despite being end-of-season skinny, and the jacket draws attention to his shoulders, and the color makes his eyes look brighter. "Hey, that's really nice. What about a tie?"

"No tie," Leon says. He's pulled out a tape measure and is flying through the notes he wants to take with the same startling efficiency as before. Matthew barely has a chance to appreciate Leon's hand on his thigh before he's done with the inseam. "Clearly you don't like having something too close to the neck." He smirks at Matthew in the mirror, and Matthew barely manages to bite back a retort about how there are some things he wouldn't mind having too close to his neck. "You can leave the top button open, but that's it."

When Leon is done getting all his measurements, Matthew finds that he's reluctant to leave.

"So, uh, you'll call me when it's done?" he asks.

"Nope," Leon says, tilting his head toward the sewing machine on the side of the room. "Get comfortable, you're going to be here awhile."

Over the next several hours, Matthew discovers that he could be quite happy putting up with pretty much anything Leon says, regardless of whether or not he's going to get a great suit out of it. He learns that Leon started sewing when he was twelve, making things for his sister and her friends; that he finished his studies in Germany a full year early; that he came to New York with the intention of getting some intern experience through Parsons and focusing on women's wear, but one of his father's former players came to Leon asking for help with a suit and the rest is history. Leon, in turn, learns an awful lot — probably more than he was expecting — about the grief Matthew gets from Taryn for his sartorial choices, about Matthew's feelings on the NHL dress code, and about how his style has changed since leaving Calgary for Florida.

Matthew only has to stop himself from making a suggestive remark about what they'd both look like out of a suit a few times, though it doesn't keep him from wondering.

"There," Leon finally says, pressing a garment bag into Matthew's hands. "Please tell me you know that you're supposed to cut the pocket and vent stitching before you wear the suit."

"I'm not a complete dunce," Matthew says indignantly. Leon doesn't have to know that his billet mom had to inform him of that little fashion rule after he'd already been wearing his new juniors suit for two months.

"Just partially," Leon says, but there's no bite behind it. He grins when he walks Matthew to the door, wishes him luck at the awards.

It's hard to walk away.

Two weeks later, when Matthew cuts the tacking stitches on the night of the ceremony, he discovers a slip of paper in his left pocket.

Rule number three: call me after you win.

— Leon

[not-your-rain]

May I oblige a line from one of your earlier posts and ask you about your Five Pebbles x Unparalleled Innocence interpretation? It's nice to see someone else into that ship, and seeing as there's so much potential for how the ship can be portrayed (mainly based on how each person establishes/develops UI as a character), I'd like to hear someone else's interpretation of it! Plus, it's definitely still a rarepair in the fandom as of now, and I think it deserves some love!

hi!! i'd be happy to talk more about them

(more under the cut since this post got way too long)

even with all of this compounded together, she isn't a bad person. it's vague enough ingame that i choose to believe she had good intentions when she discovered pebbles' condition. she sent overseers to his can because she's nosy like that, saw the rot, freaked out and sent it to everyone. i think she wanted to help but wasn't sure what else to do.

my interpretation of unparalleled innocence is meant to be a subversion of the "mean girl trope" as i find that trope to be rather shallow. she's very impulsive and doesn't think before she acts which gets her into trouble more often than not. she has trouble with empathy and doesn't always consider the feelings of others. she also can't keep a secret to save her life.

her structure was a museum, art center and fashion capital and she was frequently treated by her citizens as an icon or a symbol and not a living, thinking being. she holds a bit of resentment due to this, and it is in part why she has trouble expressing herself properly.

she already has a reputation for being brash, "rude" and a gossip, something she doesn't really attempt to combat as she doesn't see a point in doing so. she hides a thick layer of cynicism and futility about her situation behind a cheerful mask. it doesn't help that her relationship with pebbles is somewhat of a rivalry. the two constantly butt heads, within and outside of the local group. they bicker, and she likes it because she likes the attention she gets from him. i do think she harbors a bit of a crush on him but isn't sure how to handle it so she annoys the hell out of him instead. the two don't hate each other they just get on each others nerves a lot lol

innocence, being slightly older than pebbles, is one of the few iterators who see eye to eye with him and view him as an equal. this is why i find the ship appealing apart from being really into enemies to lovers type stuff. most others see pebbles as little more than "moon's neighbor" or "moon's replacement". innocence does not. they're both the youngest in their local group, which definitely aids how she sees him. i feel like they would both be able to peel back each others layers. inno sometimes boasts about things she knows are wrong, if only to get him into correcting her and giving her the right answer.

tl;dr i think they just Get Each Other. even if they bicker there is a mutual level of understanding and a balance in their dynamic that pebbles lacks with other members of the group. innocence cares about *him* and not what he is or what he supposedly represents to everyone else.

also my inno design is based on a zebra finch and i love her