#i mean he's done some questionable things but

[hereonlytofeedwormsinmybrain]

Gonna do it for myself just because

It's okay, altough very conditional

My best friend probably. I genuinely love her so much.

Yes and no, but it's somewhat pointless to dwell about. I'm making some small steps to do stuff I'd do differently back then.

Yeah

Single, never been in a relationship beside friendship and I kinda feel I've missed my window for first one. I'm okay with it tho, probably on a aroace spectrum

I feel like I'm gonna age as an old person. I would like to die with clear mind and self sufficient body.

Peach yoghurt with granola

Not really, I started enjoying sports only few years ago, but I'm still insecure about my skills and body. Want to get into boxing next year.

Not anymore

I've never had any physical fight

I like a lot of people, no one romantically so

Yeah, I studied at an art school and have ADHD, so

No actually

Terribly.

Not now. I love pets, but more in an uncle/aunt way. I'm allergic, very sensory sensitive, and leading somewhat chaotic life.

Neutral. I'm procrrastinating updating my CV, so a little bit worried about that

Never made out with anyone, so no

No, I like them, but in the place I live in they are really small and chill, big one stress me a little bit. Not fear tho, and I like cohabitating with them

I was thinking about it lately, when feverish! And: maybe? I would do a lot of things differently if I could go back like eight years, when I was starting my final year of high school. Very different decisions. Would take better care of myself and wouldn't spiral into this years long depressive/burnout episode. Like I said before, I'm trying to do some stuff I should've done before

blank answer

Uhhhhh I have school so probably deal with interior design and graphic programs

I don't want to bring people, either as a birthing parent nor. not sure how to say it? other parent who also made decision? But I would like to adopt one day, if I have this option, preferably older or teenaged kid. Not building my life toward this moment tho

One, cause the other in other ear closed up. I want one in each nostril, but now I'm dealing with allergies and shit so yeah

As in what?

Terribly. Also, kinda repeating question

Nothing really

Don't think so, but I'm also very oblivious. Maybe platonically.

Nope

blank answer

this guy who is guest in my flat rn, really annoying and don't understand "no" in more annoying way, not creepy way. He's leaving tmr morning

My friends, at least my best friend

I like colors in general so baby blue and hues of red maybe

Yeah

Don't remember

Uhhhhhh my therapist probably? I'm not a big crier

Nope, in fact, I'm too fast to cut people off. Working on it too. Only person who got a shitton on chances was my sister up to the moment she broke my heart. We haven't really talked in like. two and half years

Forget

Not really, 2023 was way better, but it was a decent year for sure

Not sure if it counts, cause I've never had kiss with person i actually wanted to kiss, but kissed some friends when I was uhhhh 22?

Nope. Fuckup with question numbers?

I like cooking in general and do it well, but my comfort food I do always when too tired to do anything else is spaghetti pasta with tomato sauce, since I was a little kid

Yes and not, more like life is this huge choices tree, so like every time you make some choice, new options appears. Logical to me

Read some fanfic

Depends on definition of cheating and relationship, but I do believe cheating as in breaking trust of other person who loves you on deep and intimate level is always wrong.

I think I'm more cruel than mean? And often people read me as mean, this the life of autistic person. I feel my core is just leyers and leyers of kind and cruel

No one???? Are you guys okay

Once again, what's definition? But I'm more into bell hooks understanding of love, as set of action rather than feeling, so how do you define realness in this definition

Big summer storm with lightnings and thunder, that brings coolness after warm and lazy day

Yes, a lot! There's not a lot of it nowadays, but I like it a lot when happens

I see marriage more as a buisness/legal thing, but if I'm ever in a long term realtionship, I probably would like one. Illegal for me in my country atm

When a girl or nb person does it. It shortcuts me a little ngl (hoping for someone who would call me this all the time. Spiritually I'm bottom, would love to check it out irl). When guys try it, even in jokes, I got a violent whiplash

Being in mountain. Spending time with my best friend. Sense of calm after big and dramatic emotions or meltdowns. Playing drums!!!! I have my second lesson tmr :)

Yes, I seriously consider this rn! Anecdote: I was a volounteer and I didn't recognized my name on a timesheet and missed my shift (: But honestly I gotta consider it, feels like a lot. Plus gotta check how my parents feel about it, would hate to get hate crimed and cut off financially. You never know with my parents, look point 1.

Yes, cause I fucking hate her and she's my sister's serious girlfriend rn :)

I'm nb, so it's kinda??? but seeing as I'm read as woman societally and describing myself as a lesbian. Well it would be fucking bad, sorry for that man. My guy friend wouldn't do it to me tho, we all have very sibling/familial realtionship and I draw setup for painting for his new girlfriend so!!!! Cute. As to my girl friend, well, would be awkward cause I really don't want to be her "girl-best friends toxic situationship", not gonna happen tho, she's very straight. If happened, yeah but no, love her but she's not great as romantic partner

(Definitions like in 55) Not complete complete, cause I don't act completely myself to anyone, maybe my best friend? But yeah, we are pretty close with my guy friend

Annoying guest

My best friend

I enjoy the idea of and soulmates in media, but in reality it feels somewhat more tragic and creepy. Not really.

Hmmm. Seeing my past suicidal ideation, I would rather live for someone. And I kinda do, actually :)

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[muletia]

[tfp] obsessed!ratchet x human!reader

summary: when his emotions turned overwhelming, ratchet tried to hate you instead, to protect both of you. despite his efforts, he cannot stop caring about you

cw: angst, obsessive thoughts, emotional manipulation, mentions of jealousy and possessiveness, ratchet is kinda toxic in this (but he gets better i promise)

word count: 1250

At first, he tried to hate you. To push you away, to make you despise him just as much as he tried to despise you. To turn passion into hatred, to move to the opposite end of the spectrum, yet still burn with the same fervor, the same intensity. Hatred was, after all, easier to manage than love—easier to understand, easier to explain, and easier to back up with facts. Love was an unknown, raising millions of questions he could never answer. Hatred hurt less. And although both passions were fierce in their own right, Ratchet could swear that the first one was far less damaging.

At first, he tried to be cold. Indifferent toward you, mean, and grumpy. He would throw comments at you that he could have easily kept behind his denta because he knew they would hit a nerve and wound you to some extent. He wanted you to leave him alone, to grow disillusioned with him. To stop interacting, to stop looking, to stop being a part of his daily life.

Another warm relationship was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Ratchet was tired. Tired of war, tired of being a medic, tired of patching up his friends only for them to return with fresh, bleeding wounds—or not return at all. Every mech and femme he grew close to either died or suffered, and he had to watch. Watch as the light faded from their optics, as energon poured from their wounds, as they lost limbs. You weren’t a Cybertronian, but would associating with him not weave a similar fate for you? One filled with pain and suffering? If the war didn’t harm you, his feelings surely would—what difference would it make? And your death was something he could not survive.

That’s why he wanted to prevent it. To break the vicious cycle, to stop the machinery of torment. To give himself no hope of a happy ending because he knew it was never meant for him. He couldn’t afford to think of himself. Ratchet was harsh, unfeeling. He made sure that every word he said struck like an icicle, that it hurt. Yet he wasn’t sure who was suffering more. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain, but in this situation, he saw no other way. In a sense, he was saving you from catastrophe, from a collision that would destroy you both. He preferred to deliver the blow when his feelings were just budding, before his infatuation grew into something unmanageable. At least then, you’d both have a chance to recover.

But he found himself checking on you. Ensuring you were all right, even though he had just done so moments ago. He found himself having needs that terrified him because he was never supposed to feel them. Even with a carefully laid plan, with his rigidly set values, Ratchet’s thoughts circled taboo. He contemplated touch, intimacy. Happiness that wasn’t meant for him.

He often wondered if you understood why he had to be the way he was; what kind of clay the war had molded him from. If he explained the details, would you grasp his intentions? Understand that he couldn’t afford the luxury of love? He only hoped you didn’t think it was your fault, that you had made some mistake, even though he gave you no reason to think otherwise. And that hurt more than any sharp remark he ever hurled your way.

It was a pity that by the time he acted, it was already too late. You had cast your spell, enchanted him and his processor. You haunted him during the day, in dreams, when you visited your alien friends, and when you were at home. You appeared in his thoughts when he least expected it, yet when he needed it most. At first, sporadically—when you hadn’t visited them for a while, when he began to miss the sound of your chatter near his workstation. When the lack of your presence started to bother him. Then, you appeared more frequently, and fleeting memories turned into fantasies and daydreams. He stopped thinking he’d like you to sit with him and started longing. Intensely, fervently.

Still, he believed his plan would work. That he could end the relationship he had nurtured for so many months. But you had entirely different plans. Consciously or not, you dismantled the calculated, artificial hatred, tearing down the walls he had begun to build around himself.

The first time you touched him to draw his attention, Ratchet was convinced his knees would buckle under his weight. Suddenly, new colors entered his field of vision, and where you touched him, an explosion of sparks erupted, an electricity incomparable to merely being in your presence. The touch was more vivid. Raw and intimate, and so incredibly powerful that it broke him. It pierced through his defenses, reached so deep that Ratchet abandoned his plan. He stopped trying to change your relationship at an unnatural pace and in a dishonest way. Oh, what a fool he had been, what a burden to both you and himself.

Mending the fractured relationship didn’t happen quickly, nor was it easy, but it gave him time to loosen the collar and allow himself to enjoy your company. Your presence brought comfort and peace. Even when you disagreed, when arguments grew heated, Ratchet clung to those shared moments. He wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world and would fight to keep them going. He grew jealous when you claimed you wouldn’t speak to him again, though he knew it wasn’t true. He knew, but he couldn’t stop himself from pulling you into his servos whenever you started talking to someone else. He wasn’t proud, but seeing you in your rightful place, close to him, made everything feel right again. Everything returned to normal.

“I owe you my sincerest apologies,” he once said to Optimus, choosing a day when the base was nearly empty, save for him, his friend, and the two humans who had changed their lives. Whether for better or worse was yet to be determined.

“You have done nothing that could cause me harm,” Optimus replied.

“But I did not understand,” he said. “That has changed somewhat recently.”

The medic’s gaze anchored on you, dispelling any doubt in the leader’s mind. Optimus began to pity his friend.

“Will it ever improve? Will this torment ever bear anything good?” Ratchet asked.

Optimus fell silent for a moment. “I am unable to provide an answer to that. However, I am certain that surrender is not the correct course of action, and you must not pursue it, for it would destroy the benevolence you have labored so long to cultivate. [Name] holds you in great regard; I would urge you to keep this in mind.”

For Ratchet, it was already too late for retreat, though he had lost the battle with himself. You had entwined yourself too deeply in his spark, taken a permanent place in his processor. He failed to keep his feelings in check, and they took over, spreading everywhere.

He started with hatred, using it as a familiar form of self-defense. Now, when you come to him with the tiniest scratch on your finger, Ratchet is ready to wage a war for you, blinded by his feelings. Ready to protect you at all costs, dedicating every free moment solely to you. He was finished, undone, but the fact that his demise would likely come through you no longer mattered to him.

[rinachains]

"Mhm, should I shave?"

Toji's question makes you look up from your phone, only to be greeted by the sight of him staring into the mirror, rubbing his hand along the lower part of his face, turning it from side to side.

You level him with a deadpan face.

"You ask this now? After I've already complained to you several times in the past weeks?"

Toji being lazy is nothing new, and while he does take good care of himself (most of the time), there are certain things he tends to put off - things like shaving. Selectively lazy, you called him once, and he just shrugged.

Over the course of a few weeks, he has grown a stubble, and while you don't actually mind the look - in fact, you find that he looks a little too good with it -, it scratches your skin whenever he kisses you, whether it is on your face or on other parts of your body.

Ignoring your remark, he makes his way to the couch you’re lying on, leans over the headrest and throws an arm around your shoulders, his lips coming close to your face; but before they can make contact with you, you put a hand against his face and push him away.

"Nope. You're shaving first."

Your partner exhales unnecessarily loudly and grabs your wrist to remove your hand from his face. He clicks his tongue as he throws his head back into his neck.

"Too tired."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah,” he replies, lazily scratching the subject of your disdain.

You cross your arms over your chest, purse your lips, and narrow your eyes. You set your phone aside as an idea pops into your head.

"Then I'll do it."

And that's how you end up in your shared bathroom, with him sitting down on a small stool – which makes for a ridiculous picture since his bulky frame can barely fit on it and you're afraid it's about to break under his weight - while you stand in front of him, applying some shaving cream to his stubble.

Toji is wearing a loose tank top that shows off the bulging muscles in his big arms and his defined pecs, and a pair of gray sweatpants - a supposedly thoughtless combination that he pulled out of his closet, but he is more than aware of the effect this look has on you.

You stifle a snort as you notice him subtly flexing his muscles, obviously enticing you to admire them.

You instruct him to stay still as you hold a sharp tool against his face - but as predicted, the insufferably touchy man grabs at your waist, massages your thighs, playfully pinches your sides - the asshole that he is, he wants to see you squirm and hear you yelp.

"I'm gonna accidentally cut you if you don't keep your hands to yourself," you grumble, trying to slap his hands away and rolling your eyes when they don't bulge from where they rest. "Seriously. Control yourself."

"Can you blame me?" Toji counters, his grin all smug and mischief glinting in his forest green eyes as he cocks his head, "I like it when you take care of me."

As if to further prove that statement, his arms wrap around the back of your knees, holding onto them in a stone grip. Your mouth falls open to scold him again, but the warmth of his touch makes you close it and go soft. Bastard.

“Y’know, you're not bad at this," he chimes in, raising a brow at you, "you've done this for other men before?"

"Oh yeah, just last week for boyfriend number two."

Toji grunts, mouth pressed into a flat frown.

"Not funny."

"You're the one who asked a stupid question," you sing, nodding in his direction. "Besides, I should ask if I'm the first one to do this for you."

"You are,” he immediately replies, "wouldn't let anyone else get that close to my face with that thing."

You hum, "So you trust me. How sweet."

He grunts, again. You're pretty close to making fun of his dad noises.

"Do you actually not like my stubble?"

"It tickles and burns when you kiss me."

"You'd get over it."

"I'll stop kissing you if you keep it."

"…You don't mean that."

"You know I do."

Once he missed picking up Megumi from daycare because he fell asleep in front of the TV; so you, as petty as you are, decided to deprive him of all hugs and kisses, and walked away the moment he approached you, tried to reach out and pull you into the confines of his strong arms. You managed to last a week before your resolve crumbled. You blame the fact that you were ovulating during that week and the dejected looks he kept giving you.

Averting his eyes to the side, he gestures to you with a wave, "Aren't y'supposed to love me the way I am?"

"Sure, but my love grows even stronger when I can kiss you without any damage."

“So I’m harming you with that? Way to make me feel bad, I liked the look.”

"Grown man," you mumble under your breath, moving his head to the other side with a bit more force than probably needed - but still careful, of course. "Be glad that I'm doing this for you. Otherwise, you'd probably walk around with a full beard."

At that he squints his eyes.

"What's wrong with that?"

"You'd look too much like a man."

His nose scrunches up, the corners of his mouth drop down - that's his grumpy face.

"What's that supposed to mean? I am a man."

"Yeah, my handsome, pretty man who doesn't have a beard that will give me a bad rash.”

A huff leaves him, only emphasizing his grumbling.

"...Whatever."

His head tilts, allowing you to carefully run the razor across the lower part of his face and the underside of his chiselled jaw. He leans into your touch, letting himself be vulnerable despite the supposed simplicity of the task.

You know what it means to be able to do that to him. It's not as insignificant as it might seem at first.

A few seconds of silence go by, but then, "Can I kiss you now?”

So needy.

When you first started seeing each other, Toji was all cocky and nonchalant, but when you finally got together, he started clinging to you, following you around like a lost puppy who refuses to let you out of his sight. It's endearing, you suppose - especially since you (and everyone else) didn't expect him to act this way.

"I'm not done yet."

All of a sudden he leans back to free himself from your grasp and get out of your reach, now holding both your wrists in his calloused palms as he stares directly into your eyes, forcing you into a silent debate. Finally, you let out a tired sigh, though you can't stop a grin from tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Okay, just one quick ki-"

Before you can finish your sentence, the plush of his lips meets yours and you melt into each other, not even noticing the shaving cream on his face transfer to yours. Instead of pushing him away this time, you instinctively deepen the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck, letting him nibble on your lower lip until he slowly pulls away.

His mouth twitches as he opens his eyes and zeroes in on a certain spot. A finger comes up to your face, wipes something away, and then shows the shaving cream on it that came from your face.

"Want me to shave your stubble too?"

The slap you give his broad shoulder doesn't move him a millimeter, but it makes him shake with laughter.

"Shut up."

[kurokawaia]

DAY ONE - GUNPLAY 彡 Dazai Osamu

WARNINGS :: Port Mafia Boss Dazai!, x fem!reader, afab, yandere? dazai, controlling, Forced confinement, psychological manipulation, power imbalance, dark themes, dubious consent, overstimulation, gunplay, getting fucked by a gun on a desk, mean!dazai, slight choking, sucking the gun + more

| WC :: 2k+ | MDNI | 18+ | kinkmas m.list

You are afraid.

You are anticipating Dazai's reaction to your plea, but you presume it will always be the same answer. You can hear his cold voice in your ear, but only just barely. His straightforward response was, "No, Belladonna."

You hesitate, then raise your fist to knock softly on his large office doors. One idea kept coming up in your mind: you wouldn't want to disturb Dazai if he was working on anything significant. You wouldn't want him to treat you badly again if you were interrupting him when he was busy.

You were unaware that papers were spread all over his desk in that room as Dazai wrote on them, making a faint tapping sound as he did so. He was not in the mood for any shenanigans today, which was bad for you. His eyes were as cold as ever as he moved between the piles of paper.

To avoid disturbing him, you enter cautiously, quietly, and slowly. You had to take a deep breath and pause before you could approach any closer since the room was so quiet. The air of Dazai made you question everything. 

He had been leaving early in the morning and coming home later at night, this has been happening for days. Ever since the workload had upped, Dazai wasn't even acknowledging your presence anymore. 

You can't stand how isolated you feel. You need a break from being alone, only if he would come back home earlier, or even stay just five minutes longer so you could see him before he left. You need Dazai, despite everything he has done and is doing to you.

"Osamu," you say gently as you go up to him.

His eyes briefly meet yours before returning to the papers because he doesn't want to be bothered.

You bite your lower lip as he gives you a quick look, but you can't tell if he was upset with you or his job, so you try again. "Since you've spent the entire day here, how about we spend some time outside? Just for a walk?" you ask again in a quieter, more tender voice.

His pen pauses in the middle of a stroke, and as you watch his tongue run over his teeth within his mouth, a soft breath escapes your lips.

He asks again, "You... want to go outside?" "Um...Yes," you respond, fiddling with your fingers all while staring at the floor. "J-Just for a short while. It's not easy being locked up here."

You recoil when Dazai drops his pen against the wooden desk. His eyes lift to meet yours as he relaxes in his chair, as the intensity causes your heart to leap. You hated that you couldn't read his eyes because you never knew if what you said would be well received by him.

However, you thought... at that very moment... that he-

"What did I tell you about asking such things?" he asks you, his voice so rasping that it sends chills through your body.

Your heart skips a beat as you blink. "Osamu, I only thought-"

"You thought?" Dazai responds with a wicked smirk that lacks any warmth. "You thought that it would be alright to rebel against me?"

In a single motion, he gets up from his chair, as you notice how he grabs his weapon that is lying on his desk. As you watch his thin fingers wrap effortlessly around the metal, your breath stops in your throat.

You're afraid.

You quickly revolt, your voice shaking, "I wasn't going against you," as you back off a step while he slowly walks around the desk towards you.  

"You are questioning my authority. You want to go outside while you are not allowed. That, Belladonna, is disobedience," he says, his brown eyes narrowing on you as he gets closer and his proximity becomes restrictive. "You know what happens when you disobey me, don't you?"

Your breath catches when he grabs your wrist and jerks you forward to where you are pushed against his chest. His fingers dig into your skin, firm but not painful... yet.

"I told you before, didn't I?" he breathes quietly into your ear. "You do not have to think. You only need to listen." His body clashes against yours, as your heartbeat accelerates rapidly. His grip is just strong enough to make you wince. "I-I'm sorry, Osamu..."

"Sorry isn't enough." He turns you around and sets your back against the edge of the desk. His hand reaches up to wrap around your neck; it’s not a tight grasp, but it’s enough to keep you from moving as his hot breath hits your ear. "You need to learn that you’re not allowed to leave. And I’ll make sure you remember this lesson." His presence is overwhelming, and it causes your heart to pound. "I do this to protect you, Bella," he murmurs quietly, pressing his lips against the shell of your ear. "So don't make me punish you again after this."

His fingertips brush your cheek, seductively light, as he pulls away to look at you. "Now, let's get one thing straight." His gaze burns into yours. "You will never question me again. If you want to be safe, you will do what I say. Okay?"

"Yes," you say softly.

"Good," he purrs. "So..."

When the gun's head presses against your chest, your breath shortens. "O-Osamu..." you moan, your body shivering with every breath.

"Shhhh," Dazai whispers, his free hand holding the back of your head as he buries his face into your hair, inhaling your sweet cherry shampoo. "I'm not going to hurt you, just going to teach you a lesson."

You stand there for a minute more, your pulse beating and your thoughts racing as the gun travels down your breasts, eventually ending at your lower belly. Immediately, your hands grab Dazai's shoulders and crush your head into his chest.

"I am sorry, Osamu. "P-Please, I am so sorry," you sob into his chest.

A giggle escapes his lips, as the hand caressing your head now combs your hair in an almost relaxed manner. "I'm not going to hurt you," Dazai says, drawing back and kissing the top of your head. "Trust me, Bella."

His hand travels down to your skirt, tugging the zip, causing the pencil skirt to tumble down your waist and to the floor. Dazai's fingers pull beneath your G-strong, his middle fingers moving up your folds, and you helplessly cry, burying your face in his chest once more.

"See, darling, I'm not hurting you," he coos, surprised at how submissive you were to him.

"Feels good," you say breathlessly. "M-more." 

Dazai shoved the gun deeper into your flesh, but it traveled lower, to your pelvis, but you couldn't think about it; the pleasure was too intense to bear. He tugs your G-string to the side, taking in the lust that glistened everywhere, practically flowing down your thigh. "Of course...Oh, Bella... you're soaked."

You bit down hard on your bottom lip; you were experiencing too many sensations at once, and your legs were about to give out. Then you feel him pull your underwear down your legs, the black fabric slapping your ankles as you slide out of them. 

"Take your shirt... off," Dazai says gently, his breath burning on your ear.

He raises his free hand to gently grab your throat, pressing lightly and feeling your heartbeat against his palm. Dazai swallows the knot in his throat. God, he loves to feel your heartbeat throb against any part of her body. You are so simple to manipulate, and he adores you. You're great for him.

You unbutton the simple white blouse as softly as possible, feeling Dazai's smile on your lips. Then he gently drags the gun up to your chest, between your breasts, pulling his hand away from your mouth and tracking the cold metal up your throat till it brushes against your lips.

Your breath catches in your throat. Dazai smirks.

"Suck, Darling," he adds, pleased by your reaction; he could tell you were scared of what he intended to do.  

Little did you know that the gun's safety was turned on, and even if it wasn't, he'd make sure not to pull the trigger. He needs you in his life more than he lets on.

You reluctantly open your lips, allowing Dazai to carefully put the metal inside it. "Good girl," he compliments, seeing the tears well up in your eyes once more. 

The praise causes your cunt to throb and your heart to swell. You swirl your tongue over the gun tip to ensure that the barrel is soaked. Surprisingly, it wasn't as unpleasant as you expected; instead, you noticed that it was quite cold and that the flavor was clearly metallic, something you were unfamiliar with.

Dazai experimentally puts the pistol farther into your mouth, causing you to choke, and you grasp his blazer tighter. He was proud of you for choosing him over the air, and you made him wild.  

He takes the gun out of your mouth, and you breath quickly, savoring the way the oxygen filled your lungs before you coughed slightly. Dazai admires the stream of saliva that leads to the gun from your lips, just as if you were sucking his dick.

You gasp as you feel the point of the pistol touch up against your swollen clit, your hands tightening on Dazai. He begins to gather the excitement flowing from your cunt around the pistol, the metal rubbing across your folds as you helplessly groan at the strange feeling.

"'Samu," you hiccup. "Please.."

"Hmm? "Please what?" he responds.

When the point of the pistol pushes into your entrance, your eyes widen and your walls tighten around the metal. "M-More," you whimpered. "Please."

Of course, he agrees to your request since it is only a matter of time before you realize there is a pistol going to be shoved in and out of your cunt. Dazai starts working the gun in and out of your moist cunt, watching your excitement flow down the pistol and onto the floor.   

"You're loving this, Bella, aren't you?" Dazai hums, angling the pistol to precisely strike your sweet spot. "My gun in your cunt," he says quietly, knowing what the reaction will be.

Tears puddle at your lash line; you'd be screwed if he pulled the trigger. You wouldn't put it beyond him; he'd let you to bleed out on the floor, and he'd probably enjoy it. But... he loves his gorgeous Belladonna so much that he couldn't let you go till you died. 

"Please, don't," you sob, both with pleasure and terror of being shot.

"Please what?"

"Please don't kill me," you begged.

"I would never, Bella," he says, slipping his tongue between your lips. "Just making you feel good." 

He accelerates the pace at which he is shoving the pistol, and you groan into his lips as he puts you on his desk. You were completely overwhelmed by all of your senses: his gun within you, his kissing you, and the way his hand was around your throat.

Dazai angles the pistol so he can toy with your clit while pumping the gun in and out of you, and you can't hold it for long. The coil in your gut was tightening, and you were not going to wait.

"Please, Osamu," you begged. "N-Need to come, please."

"Wait a little longer, or maybe I will just pull the trigger," he mutters into your mouth.

"N-No," you whimpered. "Please, I just' want to come, please, 'Samu."

"Alright," Dazai responds, thrusting the pistol farther into your cunt, which has tightened even more until you rip away from the kiss and fling your head back, a loud groan exiting your mouth. Your cum poured all over his palm and desk, soaking the paper underneath. 

"You know," he says quietly, "I push you because I need you to understand... no one else can keep you safe like I can." His thumb brushed against your lower lip. "This world is far too dangerous for you to be anything less than strong."

"I know I'm rough with you sometimes," he acknowledges. "But I can't afford to lose you. Not in a world like this. You are mine, and I do not share what is mine. And the gun's safety was turned on."

"The safety was on..." you mutter in surprise.

Do not steal, copy, modify, translate or use for ai Reblogs only!

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[puckinghischier]

Moments where you’re dancing on the line between friendship and something more w/ Nico? I need some fluff this morning.

I hope you have a great Sunday 💓

you catch yourself realizing the line is blurred the most when it comes to your daily routine. just the simple, mundane things you find yourself doing with him.

because really, do friends meet up for coffee every morning? whether its at one another’s apartment or out at a local coffee shop, you never miss your morning coffee dates when nico is in town. if he hosts, he buys breakfast pastries or cooks a whole homemade spread, always praising his mom’s recipes. if you’re hosting, its donuts and cereal, because you should never be trusted in a kitchen.

do friends meet up for lunch every day, even after having already met for breakfast and coffee? if he isn’t meeting you out for a quick bite somewhere close to the rink, you’re showing up at the arena with take out, or to wait on him until he’s done. the only other people you ever see there are the other player’s girlfriends or wives and their kids. you never see just a ‘buddy’ or a ‘friend’ there.

do friends take naps in the same bed, bodies pressed so tightly together you can feel every breath the other person takes? it doesn’t matter if its your place or nico’s, you’re always waiting for him somewhere after practice. he immediately walks through the door, either flinging himself on top of you on the couch, or dragging you to stand, pulling you towards the bedroom. he’d groggily kick his shoes off and throw his hat somewhere in the room before crawling into the soft, warm bed, patting the space beside of him for you to crawl into. “need m’teddy bear please,” he’d barely mumble, sounding like a kid whining for his favorite toy. the second you’d lay down, he’s pulling your body flush against his, squeezing you just tight enough you can still breathe, but ensuring you’re not going anywhere during the course of the nap.

do friends constantly accompany their friends to couples outings with his teammates, nobody ever questioning your presence? you always sit with jesper and nicole, having bonded with her the most over the course of yours and nico’s ‘friendship’. the first time he ever introduced you to her, she told you how lovely it was to meet ‘the infamous captain’s girl’ jesper always told her so much about. when you corrected her and told her you two were just friends, you noticed the look her and jesper shared, but she apologized and the conversation moved on. you still catch them looking at the two of you suspiciously sometimes. like when nico’s had a few too many glasses of wine with dinner and his hand finds its way to the back of your chair, or the exposed skin of your thigh. every few minutes he looks over at you with a wide grin, eyes glossy and happy from his buzz. “y’having fun, schatz?” he’d slightly slur, leaning his face so close to yours you can smell the sweet wine on his breath. “mhmmm” you’d hum back, giggling at his relaxed state. “you ever gonna tell me what that means, swiss miss?” you’d ask him, poking his dimple, your own silly nickname returned, as it is every time you as him that question. “nope,” he’d giggle, popping his ‘p’ before tuning back into his conversation with erik and kristen. you’d look over to see nicole and jesper looking at you, their own knowing grins on their faces.

do friends travel back home with one another every year? for as long as you can remember, nico has insisted you join him on his trip back home to switzerland each summer before he joins you on your own visits back home around the holidays. he takes you on all of his adventures when he’s back in his mountains. you’ve met every single one of his childhood friends, and his family treats you as one of their own at this point. you’ve even asked nina to teach you some swiss german, so you can keep up a little bit better when you’re out and about. of course, the first word you ask her about is ‘schatz’, but she won’t tell you either, asking if nico ever calls you that. “well yeah, but mostly when he’s been drinking a little bit and his languages start mixing together,” you laugh, thinking about how often he gets tongue tied between german and english after a few beers. her eyes sparkle with something you can’t decipher, stating you’ll figure it out eventually. but when you hear rino utter the name to katja one evening at dinner, you assume it doesn’t mean ‘friend’.

do friends gift each other personalized jewelry with the other’s jersey number? when nico joins you on your ventures back home it’s usually around the holidays, not wanting him to be alone, but knowing he doesn’t have time to get back to switzerland with his schedule. and he always works together with your parents to have all of your gifts he buys you shipped to your parents house, claiming he doesn’t want to risk you snooping and finding them hidden somewhere in his apartment. he even buys for your parents and siblings, just as they buy for him at this point. but every year, he gifts you something branded with the number 13 on it. one year it was a personalized jersey you could wear to his home games, the next it was your own practice hoodie since you constantly tell nico how comfy his is. he even had a customized charm made for your crowded charm bracelet, a small, red 13 with devil horns curved around the top of the number. this year, though, it’s the most beautiful silver necklace you had ever seen, a dainty number 13 hanging from the chain, small red diamonds outlining the silver numbers. on the smooth back of the modest charm, you read the small engraving of ‘merry christmas, schatz’. you thank him as he fastens the jewelry around your neck, telling him how beautiful it as and how much you love it. but the entire time your brain is clogged with thoughts of that damn name again, wondering how much longer you can convince yourself that this is how friends behave.

at the next game of his after the holiday break, you’re in your seat with nicole, one of nico’s jerseys on your back, your new necklace resting delicately around your neck. of course, when nicole spotted the shiny new addition, she didn’t say a word. the two of you opted for glass seats this game, considering it was an important rivalry game for the team. the fast paced game never slowed down once all night, each team responding with their own goal each time their opponents scored. but when the devils found their self in overtime, racing back and forth to try and score before their opponents, nico caught your eye when he was on the bench, getting ready to go out for a shift. his eyes trailed down to the necklace resting in-between your collar bones, a new glint in his eye while you waved at him and mouthed an encouraging ‘you’ve got this!’ with two thumbs up. he winks in response right before he stands and glides out onto the ice. no sooner than his skates hit the slippery ground, jesper passes him the puck as nico glides expertly around the opposing three players, planting himself right in front of their goaltender as he takes his shot. the puck slides right in-between the large, closing leg pads, the goaltender not quite fast enough in his movements. the horn sounds, signaling the devils win. you and nicole jump up, cheering for your boys while they celebrate on the ice. and when you’re waiting for the two of them to exit the locker room afterwards, jesper coming out first and giving you a small smile before making his way to nicole, you turn back to see nico coming through the large door, smiling widely as he walks right to you. before you can even get a word out, nico’s dropping his bag and taking your face between his hands, pulling your face towards his and capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.

once he pulls back you look at him in shock, trying to process what just happened. “i-…nico what was that?” you stutter, not registering the whoops and hollers coming from jesper and nicole. “something i’ve been wanting to do for a very long time, schatz,” he grins, pulling you back in for a other searing kiss. this time you kiss him back, face heating when you finally register the cheers coming from behind you, not caring in the slightest that this is definitely something friends don’t do.

[meanbossart]

Ask Compilation: Blondes, feet, bowl-cut guardian lady.

He did not, they never had sex. But he was in love with her.

For sure. I think she struck him more like a teenager with the black hair and bangs, after the change (both visual and in attitude) she became a far more mature AND attractive person in his eyes.

PFFT, well, if you're saying they meet ALL of the criteria, I assume you mean both in looks and personality and hence be damn near his soulmate. DU drow could overlook weird feet (and a lot of other things, actually) if he were in love with the person in question. He would probably gently request they take better care of them, though.

Nothing special there, I'm afraid! He just has human-like skin - perhaps a little on the oily side but completely within the bounds of normality.

He runs a little hot, if that's anything. Oh! His hair is shockingly soft.

Correct! DU drow only (arguably) looks like a drow. He doesn't have their usual bone structure, height, or associated magical proclivities. He has some dark vision but its nowhere near as good as a drow's either.

I don't necessarily think all Bhaalspawn are the same way, but the Dark Urge IS quite different from the previous game's iterations. DU isn't simply Bhaal's child conceived with a partner, he's a piece of the god that supposedly slobbed off and grew legs and a face, pretty much. So yes, I do think that the Dark Urge at least is it's own unique thing.

The reason why he looks like a drow, is because he was placed in the Underdark upon creation. The metaphor I always use here is that if you place something infantile in a biome that is alien to it, it may try to adapt to it's environment to survive as it develops, to different degrees of success. This is why DU drow looks the way he does.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

You're welcome!

I've received a few snippets here that you can find through the #gift art tag! There is also the fic I'm in the process of writing called A Novel Experience on AO3.

It was just something I was compelled to do when I first drew him! The facial scars felt like they should lead into something else so I just made up a pattern on the spot, minus a tiny tweak here or there, it has stuck basically unchanged. All and any lore relating to the scars came later.

I get a lot of sweet messages but "thanks for your man's penis size" has to be one of my favorites. Thank you!

HELLO!

Thank you so much for the kind message! And that sounds like a fun dream, I love that your Tav got jealous of the attention ASTARION was receiving instead of mad that he had to share in the first place LOL

DU drow is desperately monogamous. He doesn't care what other people do with their lives but he's very much a "one and done" kind of person.

He would be willingly to participate in a threeway/have group sex with a partner, assuming the rules and regulations of said encounter were laid out clearly before or at least mutually understood between them. He would never want to see these people again after the fact though.

She does not, naturally I had no idea that this character was going to turn into anything when i made him, so I just... Made a lady. And since she was supposed to be a "guardian" I gave her a Joan of Arc type of look.

I've occasionally thought about changing this, but... Y'know, sometimes you don't need lore to be that in-depth, LOL.

The emperor gave everyone else a nondescript hottie he assumed they would trust, DU drow just got the same treatment. She's not even DU drow's type but definitely someone he would be compelled to take seriously yet not feel threatened by - so ultimately, her design does make sense.

---

That's all I have the energy for tonight folks, as always thank you for the many encouraging and sweet messages you send me, I'm sorry I can't reply to all of them! 😭

Have yourselves a great week!

[jarl-deathwolf]

EXCELLENT!

Ooo that is a lot of FANTASTIC information, I pulled up a document and got to work taking notes. I'll have to spend some time sorting it out into a handy reference sheet but even as-is this will help a lot.

I'm really glad I asked because this includes a lot of details that I wouldn't even know to ask, like the acidic/neutral/alkaline distinctions between forests. Between that and the wet/dry divide, now I can look at a map of around where the characters are and sus out roughly what they're looking at. It really does take away a lot of the stress when

Better yet, it gives me options so I can pick some possible environments to suit what I need in the story. Like choosing a wet forest if I need treacherous terrain, or a Celtic Rainforest to enhance the splendor of a moment.

Best of all, this gives me a vocabulary of things that I can then look up references for, and a bank of plants and animals I can pull up to add life to a scene.

One thing I've really struggled with in this story has been giving the region its own distinct feel compared to other woodlands. Which is doubly important since the entire story revolves around people desperately trying to save it (and their culture) from being destroyed by colonization and conquest.

That section was pretty thorough, so I'll have to digest it for a while before I've got more questions there.

Anyway, getting into more specific comments, as well as the map, below:

(map by @noanieactuallydrawingalot) So this is the continent where the stories take place as a whole. I may or may not have made the Fells (Fantasy Wales) something like five times as large as its real counterpart. Here is more specifically the Fells, with the three big rivers named (I assume there are many more rivers and small lakes, these are just major ones) and the historic realms of the Fells marked out

I've tentatively named some broader regions, but I'm not confident about those just yet. Red dots denote major cities. The yellow line is where the old empire's borders were - those five Fellish realms are still fully under foreign rule, with four more ruled by Marcher Lords, which is just more tenuous foreign rule.

Let me know how I did with the geography and such! I've done a lot of free time studying and took a college course about it, but things like the effects of ocean currents and wind patterns always tripped me up. Anyway, I'm glad I ended up pretty close with Old Man Ash. I think he would be fine with the informal version - the other name he gets called in the story is Grandad, so I get the sense he cares more about people being comfortable in his presence than formality. Although keep me updated on if your inlaws have a different opinion - I'll need to contact my editor to update the PDF, so I'd rather do that just once. With what you said about broadleaves being exclusively what makes up the old growth forests, I wonder if that would mean that all Dagfolk would be based on broadleaves? 🧐 Since I'm sending pictures, here is the (now properly named) Hynafwr Onn:

(art by dinwardo over on twitter)

Before I move onto the next thing, just a quick question: I have another Dagfolk (like Grandad up there). His current placeholder name is the Great Oak, and he's considered the wisest and most powerful of the Dagfolk. A personal friend of King Arthur.

I don't suppose you'd have a suggestion for a name?

I am delighted that you bring up bards because I made the main character a Fellish bard by the name of Llywela ferch Marared. She plays a crwth and I like to have her make subtle references to Welsh songs like Sebona Fi and Yma O Hyd. I gave her uncommonly red hair to imply a connection with Annwyn.

(I realize that's not the usual spelling of Annwn, but I chose it so I wasn't directly cribbing mythology and making it harder for people to learn about those myths) I also have some commissioned art of Llywela, plus the Lady of the Lake and the Merlin analogue, for what it is worth. You mentioned faeries with the peat bogs. I don't think faeries will be making a huge appearance in this story (mostly just one knight), but I'd be glad to hear about Welsh-specific faerie lore if you've got it on hand.

You also said that cheeses were a big Welsh cultural touchstone. Are there Welsh specific varieties that you can tell me about? And what sort of dishes are they made into?

Also on that train of thought, you mentioned a plant that flavors mead - would that be the go-to alcohol of choice, or are there others floating around? Both for a lord's table and what you might find in an inn.

And thanks again for the response, this really has been a treasure trove of great information for me!

Hi hello! I'm writing a story in my original world, set in a Fantasy Wales. A King Arthur Returns type story, if that matters.

I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Welsh ecology? And possibly also some cultural details?

Thanks ahead of time! And I understand if you decline or don't respond!

YES OH MY GOD YES HELLO

[glowinlemon]

TLDR Headcanon that Corazon/Rosinante fought tooth and nail to keep his kindness.

Corazon fought his circumstances, first as a Celestial Dragon who was encouraged to be cruel, second as a child who was hunted and hurt for his people’s crimes, third as a freshly traumatized boy whose life was defined by the hatred and violence of the streets, fourth as an orphan taken in by a vice admiral, and fifth as Doflamingo’s right hand man.

I mean, I see a good amount of content pointing out the horrors Rosinante faced in his childhood as he was persecuted by the people who he held no ill will against, but so often I see people brush off the trauma he must have faced growing up in the marines.

Like, you snatch up some poor, scared, hurting child, and drop them in the center of a marine base? Imagine what he must have seen. Imagine the feeling of being on the edge of shipping out for battle, the feeling of returning from a buster call with fresh blood on your hands, imagine the feeling of seeing this as the background of your adolescent life.

Being a marine crushes soft hearts, and has little patience for anyone willing to question their violence. Corazon would have been in an environment where any perceived “weakness” was a fault to be exploited or destroyed. So it’s easy to imagine that it would have been a conscious decision to stay soft. To stay kind.

Hell, life as a marine, much less as a child raised by and around marines, would have necessitated leaving anything as “useless” as kindness behind for the majority of their time. And I know that marines can be kind, and that many of them are; it’s just that Rosinante would have been raised in the heart of an organization that runs on wars. There’s no way that their calloused, cruel almost, ideals wouldn’t have gotten internalized.

So with that context in place, Cora would have had to fight to keep his bleeding heart. Every circumstance demanded that he become cold, but instead, against everything that normally would have happened, he didn’t.

Like, this is a guy who is defined by his actions. We remember him as the man who died to save Law. We remember him as the man who acted as his brothers Corazon. But more than this, we remember him as the man who went out of his way to make a sad, angry, child smile; and who was fully committed to ensuring that Law lived, even at the expense of his own life.

Cora has undoubtedly done some horrible, violent, things in his lifetime, but throughout it all he remained, at his core, kind.

[interzoneinhabitant]

There is something that rubs me the wrong way about those sorts of posts where a trans guy shares a misdirected hateful message he received telling him something along the lines of, "You'll never be a real woman!!! You'll always be a man and you can't change that!! Even if you get a surgery it will be a gaping wound and everyone will know you're a fake!!" or whatever that was clearly sent because the bigot in question though he was transfeminine, with the OP captioning the screenshot something like "I saved this message because it is so unintentionally gender affirming haha."

On the one hand, I can sympathize. I get it, it's probably nice to have someone aggressively gender you as male, it probably is really quite affirming. I recall once getting immense gender euphoria at a customer service job I had once when a customer angrily cursed me out while continuously gendering me as female and it was pleasant to know that even someone who hated me saw me as a woman in that moment, and I imagine this is a somewhat similar feeling, though obviously different in structure. And I'm not denying that i see the humorous aspect there too, it's fun to feel smarter than people sometimes when they make ironic mistakes. On the other hand... You are just sort of broadcasting transmisogynistic hate speech as a funny joke and reminding any transfeminine people reading the post that we are the primary target of most transphobia.

You may find it unfair that I specify a transmasculine poster here, but I only say this because I have never once seen the reverse occur. I've never seen a trans woman share a humorous anecdote about having been sent hate speech that assumed she was trans man. It is always the other way around, because always the assumption will be that transsexuality means perverted men dressing in women's clothing and infiltrating woman only spaces to commit acts of sexual violence. As per usual, the hypervisibility that transfeminine people "enjoy" is a panopticon.

It's just like when people post screenshots of conservative transphobes on twitter saying things like, "Trans men are men, period. Are you #triggered?" because yes, on a surface level this is funny, but you do understand that what they're actually saying is "trans women are men" right? They aren't using the correct terminology because they don't care about that; they just want us to commit suicide. All you're doing is broadcasting hate speech and making fun of them for being inarticulate about it.

And ultimately some guys on the internet lacking tact and making me feel uncomfortable isn't the end of the world, I'm not saying that anyone who has done this should be "cancelled" or whatever, but I would like if people would think before they post things like this.

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter VII: Choose Love or Sympathy

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | diaries coming soon

songs for this chapter: that’s what you get by paramore, xo by fall out boy, lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off, king for a day by pierce the veil

a/n: hear me when i say these two are absolutely in for it it. I'm also a huge fan of italics apparently

chapter tags: angst, hurt/comfort but then... hurt/no comfort (SORRY!), reader is a sensitive baby we love her, mean!Eddie, but also very sweet Eddie. swearing, smoking, drinking, reader struggles with self image / mental health (vague for now) | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog/comment/like to support the author! Join the tag list!

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotine @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality |

--

The weekend comes barreling towards you sooner than you’d have liked. You wake up Friday morning with a sense of dread, Robin’s words on a broken loop in your head: what you ‘know’ isn’t the whole goddamn story. Everyone keeps fucking saying that, but no one has actually told you what you “don’t know.”. Chris hasn’t given you a goddamn leg to stand on, speaking in riddles and never once confirming or denying a thing. You’re an adult, and you wish these fuckers would start treating you like one.

On your nightstand, your phone buzzes repeatedly, a string of incoming text messages:

bobbins: so,, ive smoked some weed bobbins: im cool now  bobbins: i still think there’s a lot we don’t know,, bobbins: but I’m sorry for insinuating you should forgive him. bobbins: i cant imagine how you felt that day. bobbins: i love u bb

You scramble to respond before she can get another five messages in,

it’s ok bob, i love u 2

The subject changes swiftly as she tosses questions about tonight at you one after the other. You send her pictures of your outfit choices, hairstyle ideas, personal protection list before finally asking her the question gnawing on your brain. 

What if he doesn’t like me?

Robin responds by calling you.

“Hi?”

“Don’t be stupid.” She starts, not letting you explain. “He asked you out, why wouldn’t he like you?!”

“I dunno! Maybe he’s just looking for a hookup. Maybe he thought I’d be easy?” The suggestion sounds silly coming out of your mouth, and you hear Robin scoff at you. 

“Look, if things start to stink, call me. Steve’s closing tonight, so he’ll be right down the street.”

You sigh into the receiver. “Okay, okay. You’re right, I’m probably worried for nothing.”

“Atta girl! Now go on, go headbang or whatever it is you people do.”

You snort as you say your goodbyes, and hang up the phone. Without Robin to distract you, you turn to the outfits you’ve spread out on your bed. Emo Nite is casual, sure, but you still want to look good. You decide on a pair of Tripp pants, adorned with metal hooks and chains, pairing it with an old Paramore shirt you cropped with kitchen scissors in high school. With your outfit out of the way, you sit at your vanity to do your makeup, extending your winged eyeliner a little further than you would on a normal day. When you’re done, your alarm clock reads 8:30, and you make your way to your car. 

–

9:15.

The lights of the city seem to dance across the sky. Everything is louder here, bustling with nightlife you could only dream of seeing in Hawkins. You’re standing outside the club alone, nursing the end of your last cigarette. Maybe he’s running late? You don’t have a single unread text from Scotty. You type several different messages of your own, deleting each one before settling on “You on your way?” But its delivery is never confirmed. It’s grown cold outside, and you wrap your flannel tighter around you to keep the wind out. You should have brought a jacket, but you weren’t expecting to be outside for this long. You can hear the first notes of an old favorite song, followed by a bunch of 20 somethings cheering. Patrons are dressed in black, clad in leather and fishnets, their combat booted feet stomping into the venue. Emo Nite is a nostalgia cash grab, you know that, but you’re envious of everyone setting foot inside, surrounded by their friends and peers, leaving you abandoned at the door. 

–

9:30.

The time taunts you from your phone screen. You’re waiting outside the club, the air brisk on your face. Every so often, the door swings open as someone enters or exits, and you turn to see if it’s someone for you. So far, none of them have been, and you’re debating whether or not to walk to the record store and ask Steve to hitch a ride back to his place to mope. 

“Hey, Bee!” The voice calling you isn’t the one you’re hoping to hear, but it’s just as familiar. You find its source across the street, Macy waving at you eagerly as her bandmates and fucking Eddie follow behind. Oh, right. Like being stood up isn’t humiliating enough, now Eddie gets to tease you about it. 

“What’re you doing out here, girl? It’s freezing!” Macy is sweet, holding your icy cheeks between her warm hands. You can tell she’s already had a few drinks.

“I’m, hm,” You clear your throat, “I’m waiting for someone.”

“A date? Eek! Hear that, Eds? Our girl has a date!” Her words send static through your veins. Since when are you anyone’s girl, let alone Munson and Macy’s?

“Mhm, okay, honey. Let’s go get you situated, yeah?” Eddie ushers her inside, handing her off to Fiona before returning to where you’re standing. Without a word, he lights a cigarette and offers it to you, and you take it without acknowledgement while he lights his own. After what seems like hours, the two of you choose to speak at the same time,

“How late is–” “Why did you–” “What?” “What?”

“You first,” Eddie gestures to you before pulling from his cigarette.

“Why did you tell Scotty to ask me out?” 

“What in the world makes you think I told him to ask you out?”

“Look, she’s gonna kill me for telling you this, but Robin overheard you in the bathroom talking to Scotty at the bar. She walked in by accident, and you two had come in before she could leave. Anyway, you know she can’t keep secrets for shit, so she told me what you said to him. Why?” You cross your arms, attempting to hold in as much body heat as possible,but to no avail. Eddie notices, and immediately sheds his jacket, not giving you a chance to refuse it as he drapes the leather over your shoulders. 

“I thought he was a cool dude. Thought you guys would hit it off.” His answer does nothing to satiate the hunger for every detail of every single thought that went through his brain up until this very moment. He is driving you fucking insane. “Hey, I bet I could get Macy to put you on the guestlist, so at least tonight won’t be a total waste?” Yet another peace offering from Eddie Munson. Hell must have frozen over.

He doesn’t wait for your approval before reaching into his inner jacket pocket of the coat that you have since put fully on to shield yourself from the wind, to grab his phone. After eagerly punching a few buttons, he holds the device up to his ear, plugging the other with his finger. “Hey, babe. I’m outside with Bee, Scott stood her up.” You can’t hear what Macy’s response is, but Eddie replies with, “You read my mind, honey. We’ll be in in a sec.” He ends the call and turns his attention back to you, his big brown eyes attempting, it seems, to read your mind. “You pissed?”

You shake your head, inhaling another drag of your cigarette. “Not really. Disappointed, I guess.” You pick at your cuticles, refusing to hold eye contact with Eddie, but that doesn’t stop him from boring his own into the top of your head; you can feel them penetrating your skull. “Could’a used the distraction.”

“Fancy me a distractor? Macy’s gonna be busy, I’m practically all by myself tonight.” You look up, and Eddie’s jutting his bottom lip out to pout at you. 

“You don’t mind being seen with me?” You tease, flicking ash onto the concrete. You can’t imagine Eddie actually wants you to agree to this offer.

“Why would I? When have I ever cared what people think of me? Especially these posers.” He gestures to you, and you fake offense.

“Posers?! I’ll have you know I have met some of the most authentic punks at places like this, you dweeb!” You toss your cigarette butt on the ground, stomping out the embers with your boot. 

“Sorry, sorry! I’m used to going to shows where people leave bloody. Not used to this side of the alternative Venn Diagram, I guess.” He flicks his own cigarette, mirroring your movements. “Shall we go inside?” You nod begrudgingly, and he opens the door to the club for you, stopping to give the bouncer your names.

–

The club is dark, expectedly. The lights flash shades of pink, purple, and blue as people dance and attempt to chat over the noise; and the whole scene is set to the music of your childhood and teen years. As Eddie leads you across the floor, you can feel your chest tighten, watching couples surrounding you, dancing or sloppily making out against the back wall. You let it sink in that you've been stood up. The first time in three years you’d even attempted to go on a date, and the guy didn’t even show up. You hum along to the song playing, a desperate plea for distraction from the situation in front of you. Meanwhile, Eddie leads you to a table away from the speakers, and shouts that he’ll be right back. You can only guess he’s off to wish his girlfriend luck.

While you wait, you observe the crowd around you, and it’s full of kids you knew in high school that used to bully you for liking this kind of music, dressed as caricatures with arm warmers and cheap chains dangling off their black skinny jeans. Conventionally attractive girls wear their eyeliner in heavy wings, their lips painted shades of dark red, dancing with boys in all black with long hair. You try not to think about what Scotty would have worn. You wonder if he even likes this kind of thing. Maybe it was a test, and you'd failed.

Just as you’re about to spiral into misery again, Eddie returns with two drinks in his hands. “You like shirleys, right? I wasn’t totally sure. I can go grab you something else if you want?” If you didn’t know any better, you would think Eddie was nervous.

“No, this is good. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem!” He has to yell over the music.

“And, uh, thanks for hanging out with me. I know it’s like, the last thing you wanna be doing right now.”

Eddie takes a swig of his beer before responding, “Nah, definitely not the last thing. This is way better than listening to Steve talk about his latest conquest.” You picture the scenario, Eddie slamming his head against a wall while Steve goes on and on about Tracy, or Nicole, or whoever it is this week. The mental image makes you giggle, and Eddie’s smile seems to widen. It makes you uncomfortable, being so close to him. Luckily, though, you don’t get to think about it too long.

“Alright, alright! Thank you guys for comin’ out to hang with us! We have a guest for you tonight, please welcome Macy Miller, frontwoman of Statuesque Dolls!” The crowd cheers politely, these things never have people worth freaking out over. Macy takes the stage, clad in a silky black dress that hugs her form perfectly. Next to you, Eddie is whooping and hollering, “That’s my girl!” It makes your stomach churn. You’re reminded again that you’re supposed to be here on a date. You’re supposed to be someone’s girl. 

“Alright, I got a couple of songs for you guys, but I need all of you up and shaking some emo ass with me, got it?!” You can’t deny Macy knows how to work a crowd. She gets people to migrate to the dance floor, and Eddie offers his hand out. “Can I have this dance?”

“Um,” You hesitate to take his outstretched palm. “What about Macy?” You point lamely to where Macy is killing her cover of Fall Out Boy’s XO.

“What about her? It’s a dance, Bee. I’m not, like, asking you to sleep with me or some shit.” Eddie frowns at you, like you’ve offended him.

He does have a point, though. One dance won’t kill you. You accept his gesture, taking his own massive hand in yours, and hope to god he can’t tell that yours is sweating. He leads you to the dance floor, waving to Macy from the crowd as he does. There’s a burn in your stomach when she blows him a kiss, and he pretends to catch it in his mouth. You’re close to bailing when Eddie turns his attention back to you, clearing his throat.

You stare back at him, eyes wide with fear that he’s going to bail, and you prepare to tuck your tail between your legs and call Robin. Instead, Eddie takes your hand again, and yanks you into his embrace. You bump into his chest, but he recovers the fumble by holding you there, free arm resting hesitantly on your waist. You’re frozen, having no clue where to put your hands, so Eddie takes the lead. He drops the hand he’s holding on his shoulder, and moves your other to meet it on the other side. He then rests both his hands on your hips, giving you enough space between his body and yours to breathe, but barely.

The song continues, melodramatic and overtly horny. That, combined with the warmth of the drink in your veins, plus the closeness of Eddie, makes you feel almost good. It’s difficult not to overthink, though, having him in your personal space, your bodies pressed together on a very hot, crowded dance floor, moving in ways you definitely wouldn't have done three hours ago.

“So,” Eddie muses, looking anywhere but at you as he speaks, but still able to move in sync with you. “How’s your day goin’?”

You snicker at his poor attempt at conversation. “Well, I got stood up, and now I’m dancing with who I would have bet this morning wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. All things considered, I think it’s going pretty horribly!” 

The ice seems to crack as you speak, Eddie visibly relaxing as you sway to the music. “Okay, that’s fair. Are you pleasantly surprised?”

You look up at him, but his eyes are locked over your head, staring where Macy stands onstage, swaying with a few friends in front of the DJ booth. You shrug. “Jury’s still out.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes at you. After what feels like an eternity, the song ends and Macy queues another rock anthem to get the crowd moving again. You’re unmoving as Eddie unwraps himself from you. “We should do this again sometime.” He states, unreadable.

“What, dance?”

“Sure, or just, y'know, hang out. Be civil for once. It’s been awhile.”

You roll your eyes. “You know this can’t be, like, a normal thing. It bruises our reputation as sworn enemies.” A feeble attempt to make it a joke, though you know in your heart you can’t be friends with Eddie. The earth would cave in on itself. 

Eddie chuckles. “Whatever you say, Bee. See ya ‘round.” And he leaves you alone, disappearing into the crowd.

–

It’s 11:30 when your phone buzzes. You’re four drinks deep, stirring another dirty shirley at the bar, observing the people around you having fun.

Scotty A: Hey! Totally meant to text you. Got stuck at work.

An avalanche of thoughts rumbles through you, most of them not safe for work. You don’t even know how to respond. There’s no apology, no groveling for your forgiveness, not a hint of actual, real regret. Like you don’t matter. It exhausts you to even think of what that date would’ve been like had he shown up. You type your response between gulps of liquid courage.

“Are you fucking serious?”

The "..." bubble appears, but quickly vanishes. You gape at your phone, wishing you were home so you could let out the blood curdling scream building in your chest. The anger vibrating through you needs an escape, so you lurch from your seat at the bar, rushing quickly out of the club. Eddie whips his head around as you pass him. You think you hear him call your name, but your eyes have started stinging and he’s the last person you want to see you cry.

The night air hits you hard, bringing separate tears to your eyes. Following your therapist’s advice, you start a box breathing exercise. Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Breathe out, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. 

“Hey,” The voice startles you into a hiccup. “You okay?” Eddie has made his way outside after you, leaning against the wall. “Saw you dash outta there like something caught fire. Got worried.” He says it nonchalantly, and it takes you aback. Instead of responding, you flip your phone screen towards him. His eyes scan the page before they focus back on you, shaking his head. “That is so fucked up.”

Your voice breaks with your next question. “Did you know this was gonna happen? Scotty’s your friend.”

Eddie’s face drops into a grimace. “How would I have known? Why would I have told him to hit you up if I knew this was gonna happen?” 

It frustrates you how reasonable he’s being. You want someone to yell at, someone to blame, and Eddie just so happens to be the closest target. “I don’t know! Maybe you did it as revenge, or something equally as immature. Maybe you wanted me to feel the same way you did when–”

He interrupts, shaking his head feverishly. “I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone. Even you.” The words are a knife to your chest. You don’t like remembering what you did to Eddie that night, but it’s your fault for bringing it up. “I told Scotty to ask you out because he said he liked you. Crazy concept, I know, but i suggest you stop thinking everyone’s out to get you. I thought it would be fun, hanging out with you and him. I’m sorry it didn’t go how you planned, but blaming me isn’t fucking fair, Bee.”

He’s right, but you can’t bring yourself to back down. “It’s not fair to take someone’s brother away for six years, but you had no problem doing that.”

“Fuck you, Bee. Seriously.” He spits the words before turning on his heel, and heading inside. You are once again left alone, outside, in the cold.

–

[lwh-writing]

If I may (forgive me, I don't know how CPS works, I had to make up names, and it's long):

As a correspondent for Casper County Child Protective Services, Julia is unfortunately used to taking plenty of calls, especially for the city of Amity Park.

Julia is also used to getting calls regarding the Fentons. At least half a dozen of her coworkers have their own personal accounts of the peculiar couple and their children, and Julia has twice had to stop by Fenton Works and assess the situation for herself. What she and her colleagues have found is a well-meaning, but feckless pair of scientists that continue to *just barely* scrape by every evaluation. If it wasn't for the fact that Jasmine and Daniel Fenton weren't so perfectly happy, healthy, and loved in their home, Julia knows that the Fenton family would've long-since been broken up.

None of this prepares her for receiving The Call.

Julia's shift ends in a little over an hour. The phone rings, and she pulls up both a new tab on her organizational software and a new page on her notepad. She hopes that this call is for something minor, and that it's the last she'll receive for the day, as she wanted to enjoy the rest of the weekend in peace.

Unfortunately, The Call is neither of those things.

"This is Casper County Child Protective Services. I am--" Before Julia can continue her usual spiel, the sound of a wailing child cuts clear across the line.

"It's Maddie Fenton," the voice on the other end says, just barely heard over the cries.

Julia sighs and begins to pull up the usual file. "What have the Fentons done this time?"

"I think you misunderstood," the voice continued, "This is Maddie Fenton. I'd like to file a--." More cries drown out Dr. Fenton's words, and soon the light sound of footsteps and a closing door can also be heard. The cries don't quite stop, but they are much more muffled.

"....are you reporting yourself and your husband?" Julia asks. It wouldn't be the first time a parent has called CPS and requested that their children be removed from their own custody. Sometimes, bad parents are just good enough to recognize when their child deserves better than them, and other times, good parents know that they are spiraling or hitting a rough patch hard enough that they cannot continue to give their children what they need. Julia has always respected those types of people the most.

"No, I...." Dr. Fenton said, "It's about my sister's son, Timothy Turner."

Julia searches for the name in the Casper County database, only to find nothing. "I'm sorry, that name doesn't appear to be in my files."

"It probably wouldn't be in Amity Park. My sister Luisa and her husband live in Dimmsdale."

Julia expanded her search to the city in question and found a Turner family living in Dimmsdale.

"Right, then. May I ask how old Timmy is?"

"He's six."

She then asked Dr. Fenton to describe the problem that led her to call CPS.

"My sister and I have not always had the closest relationship," Dr. Fenton explained, "Luisa can be a bit flighty and airheaded, making communication difficult. I'd often make a few calls, only for them to be ignored and responded to a month later. It didn't really bother me much until Luisa had a kid."

"Did you worry that your sister's tendencies would make her forgetful in regards to her child's care?"

"There were a few moments, but I didn't think they would stick," Dr. Fenton said after a moment of thought, "I thought there might be growing pains, but I guess I thought having a child might force Luisa to become more mature. But I was wrong. My sister and her husband are obviously not taking their duties as parents seriously, and I think there might be some major problems."

"Such as?" Julia egged on, grabbing a pen and preparing to jot down notes.

"From the beginning, Jack and I noticed a few odd remarks. Thomas, Luisa's husband, really wanted a daughter. When Luisa was pregnant, he would go on about all the father-daughter things they would do together. But when they had Timmy instead, it was as if Thomas and Luisa were never expecting. Thomas didn't once mention any of the activities or other things, and barely mentioned Timmy at all beyond lamenting the fact that he didn't have a 'precious babygirl'."

"That is very concerning," Julia agreed, "Is there anything else?"

"Yes. Whenever we would visit Luisa for weekends or holidays or such, we'd often find Timmy alone at the house. I took Luisa aside and told her that her son wasn't old enough to stay by himself and that he needed a babysitter. She got him one, thankfully, but when we came over next time, Timmy immediately burst into tears and told us how his babysitter would hurt him."

Julia stopped her writing. "Did you tell your sister?"

"Of course I did," Dr. Fenton said, tone irked, "But Luisa dismissed it out of hand. She and Thomas both claimed that Timmy was just lying for attention. But the way my nephew looked, I.... I just couldn't take any chances. So one weekend, about three months ago, Jack and I took the kids to Dimmsdale a couple hours early to see if we could catch the babysitter in the act. And what we found--"

A disgruntled, grunting noise came from the other end of the receiver.

"It was horrible. That vile witch of a teenager had Timmy tied up like a prized hog at a fair, and had dozens of weapons and torture instruments all laid out. We swung open the front door to see her laughing manically at Timmy's tears, nine-tails whip raised in hand. She tried to play it off, but we caught her red-handed and she knew it."

"Jack and the kids stayed with Timmy, but I took the girl aside and made it very clear that if she stepped within ten feet of my nephew again, I would tear her apart molecule by molecule. Then we waited for Luisa and Thomas to get home so we could explain the situation. They finally arrived just before midnight, the both of them tipsy from a date night out. Jack and I tried to explain the situation again, but they dismissed it. Again."

"Did you attempt to contact Dimmsdale police or CPS when you found the babysitter?" Julia asked, wondering what the fuck kind of trainwreck she was getting dragged into.

"Yes, we did," Dr. Fenton confirmed, "The police were useless. Apparently, the babysitter would sit for the officers, and they all claimed that she was an 'absolute godsend' that could 'straighten out even the most delinquent of children'. CPS wasn't much better, and when we went to try and talk with her parents, they seemed just as terrified of her as Timmy was. So Jack and I discussed our options and finally told my sister and her husband that we would babysit Timmy whenever it was needed, no charge required."

Julia made a note to report Dimmsdale CPS to Internal Affairs, all the while encouraging Dr. Fenton to continue. Not that much encouragement was needed. It seemed as if Dr. Fenton was finally releasing weeks' worth of frustration towards her sister, brother-in-law, and overall situation.

"The first time we babysat, we had to drive the two hours to Dimmsdale and get Timmy ourselves. Neither Luisa or Thomas made mention of what their plans were for pickup, or when they'd be done with whatever they were doing. They just absently told us goodbye and drove off. We packed up a few of Timmy's toys-- all of which were birthday and Christmas gifts from us, mind you --and then went back to Amity Park. It was a fun day, but once we were done with dinner, we started calling Luisa and Thomas to see where they were, and we still didn't receive an answer. We eventually decided to drive Timmy back. We came home to an empty house, and didn't leave until the Turners came in a little after two."

"The second time we babysat, Jack and I ran a bit of an experiment," Dr. Fenton confessed, "We picked Timmy up on a Friday after school, packed him a few changes of clothes, and then took him back to our place. We waited the entire weekend to see if either Luisa or Thomas would notice we had essentially kidnapped their son. They didn't call or text once. The only reason we took Timmy back to Dimmsdale was because he had school Monday morning."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Julia swore under her breath.

"And that brings us to now," Dr. Fenton said, "Jack and I picked up Timmy, but this time, we refused to leave Dimmsdale until Luisa and Thomas gave us straight answers as to where they were going, what they were doing, and when they would pick up their son. Apparently, Thomas has a Pencil Conference in Pennsylvania. They assured us that Timmy would be coming with them. Their flight leaves from the O'Hare airport at six. It is currently a quarter past four, I have been trying to call my sister for three hours and received no answer, and my nephew is crying his eyes out because he is a six-year-old child who misses his parents no matter how horrible they may be. And I just... don't know what to do."

Julia let out a shaky breath before creating a new case file and saying to the defeated-sounding woman, "You've done the right thing in calling today, Dr. Fenton."

"...thank you," she said, "I know this is the right thing for my nephew, but my sister..."

"Your sister is a grown woman who has made her choices," Julia dismissed before creating a new file, "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but it sounds as if you and your husband wouldn't be opposed to housing Timmy as we get this situation dealt with."

"That is correct, yes. The kids love their cousin, and Jack and I just want Timmy to be happy and safe."

"Good. What I am going to do, Dr. Fenton, is contact a judge in Amity Park and tell them to grant you emergency custody of Timothy Turner. I am also going to contact the proper channels to start an investigation into the Dimmsdale CPS, the Dimmsdale police, and the babysitter who terrorized your nephew. What was her name?"

"Vicky," Dr. Fenton spat, "Vicky Carter."

"Thank you, Dr. Fenton," Julia said, writing the name down, "Now, we will try to get you emergency custody as soon as possible, but that usually takes a while. Two weeks, at the minimum."

"Thomas and Luisa said the Pencil Conference lasted a week, and that they were thinking of staying for a while to see the sights."

"Well," Julia said, wondering exactly how serendipitous the events turned out to be, "Well, then that just works in our favor. You will most likely receive another visit from Child Protective Services just to confirm that your household can support three children. After that, it would be best if your entire family could refrain from contacting Mr. and Mrs. Turner, as a legal battle to remove your nephew from their care will most likely follow. Are there any particular charges you'd like to level against the Turners?"

"Child neglect and child abandonment," Dr. Fenton answered immediately.

"Well, then we are of the same mind. Please expect a multitude of emails and phone calls in the near future."

"Of course. And thank you, for the help."

Julia said her goodbyes and rose from her desk. As she was making her way to the Internal Affairs office, a few voices called out from the breakroom.

"Uh-oh, somebody's got their business face on," Tyler teased, "Anything we should be worried about?"

"I got a call from the Fentons."

A few chuckles rose up from the room.

"What they'd do this time, cover the 'Spirit of Clean' mascot with neon green silly string?"

Julia frowned and shook her head. "Dr. Maddie Fenton called to report her sister for abandonment and neglect."

The room went quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"Shit," Tyler murmured, "How fucked up does the case have to be for the Fentons to turn someone in?"

"You don't want to know," Julia said, turning on her heel and continuing down the hall, "You don't want to know."

✨Au ✨ Moms are sisters

[yourloveaton]

Continuing

Secondly, Gaster and his relationship with Trickster. We know that Gaster knows Sans is Trickster from the very beginning. But I'm curious about something. You said that at some point Trickster became some kind of symbol of hope in the underground? How did that happen, like I personally don't believe that this happened ONLY because of his jokes and riddles that gave him this title. You often draw Trickster fighting, does this mean that Sans somehow manages to find himself superhero-type problems in this closed underground? Or is he just helping the monsters in some way? Does Gaster worry about Sans's Trickster activity at least a little? If not because of the fights and maybe sometimes risky tricks, then because of the title of "Hope" for the people of the underground. Or is he happy, because the monsters lack something like that in their lives, and if it so happened that this symbol turned out to be Trickster, then oh well 🤷‍♂️. Maybe Dadster is even a little proud of Sans for this? Would he say it out loud to him if that's the case?

I’ve been working on Trickster’s lore with that same question imprinted into my head HAHAHA Like how did this guy somehow managed to become the symbol of hope in the underground when all he does is tricks and cause trouble and more..

So far, I’d like to think that Trickster started out as mischievous cryptic being that messed around once in a while (playing pranks, pissing the folk out, playing with them, putting on a show etc.) which made him known among the underground community (Many monsters had different opinions about him, rumors and discussions had spread all around)

As time went on, Trickster’s antics grew on them as well as how Trickster helped the people out in need, whether small or not and many other traits that he’s displayed. I think there would a turning point for Trickster’s career where he suddenly became the symbol of hope, someone to count on at darkest times for the underground. Because he’ll be there for you no matter what and maybe, just maybe he’d be able to get everyone out of here. His actions and what he’s done would have inspired many monsters and with everyone’s desire to cling to somewhere to hold on (how monsters want to come up to the surface and be free rather than be trapped underground) Trickster happened to be there, holding their hopes and dreams for them.

That’s what I think Trickster’s character would be like, how he became the symbol of hope for the underground even if he was a very annoying prank-pulling entertaining jester.

I actually tried portraying the whole thing with this drawing too !!! I had been thinking about Trickster’s character and tried to convey that feeling through this art piece hahahaha

He’ll guide you, the glimmer of hope!

Waiting for the sunlight to bestow onto the underground

Hopefully one day…

Something charming, something inspirational, something beautiful to admire and feel hope !!! I think that’s what I aimed for this drawing hahahha ahhahahahaha

For dadster, I’m thinking he didn’t care much on what sans did as long as it didn’t hinder their work. Though he MIGHT BE one of the first monsters that MIGHT HAVE held hope for Trickster or his SON in general :) His best student and bright son like a shining star, his bundle of light and hope…………… though he never says anything ab it to Sans so LOL And Dadster might even be a little proud of Sans and there could be times when he’s worried about him too hehehhe hehehe But no words are ever uttered…

I hope I was be able to answer the question properly and understandable!! I hope it makes sense 🥲🥲🥲💖💖💖

[mischivousvoid]

This might be a weird take, but I feel like people's recent hate of Ford and ignorance of Bills crimes in the GF fandom says less about the fandom and more about how well Ford and Bill are written.

It's a well-known fact that most people online can't comprehend complex characters. It's going to happen, like, everywhere. But why is there not as many people blaming or hating the complex character who actually is a villain of the story? The one objectively more in the wrong?(Y'know, Bill)

Because Ford feels real. Bill doesn't.

Bill is a supernatural entity that nobody expects to ever meet in real life, it's easy to disconnect from his flaws because he's a walking talking triangle. And most importantly, despite being openly evil, he's charismatic in terms of personality and stupidly entertaining to watch.

Not to mention that before the book of Bill, everyone was already blatantly aware of Bill being evil, what they discovered upon reading the book is the opposite - things that would make you sympathetic towards him, his hurt and inner thoughts, something people could relate to. So, of course people would focus on those more. And exadurate it. And frankly, it's exactly what Bill wants. He's manipulated everyone into liking him by showing this, because now he wants something from you, the reader. You're no longer the passive audience, Bill has reached to you directly and is trying to make a deal. He's performing for you specifically. "See, I ain't so bad:)". Obviously he kinda fails in his usual ways due to his misunderstanding of humans and emotional instability making him vulnerable. But ultimately, he still got what he wanted from some people...

Then what about Ford? Well, frankly I think the book of Bill pushed him more "in the front" and people have started to actually analyse his character rather than overlooking it on the surface level.

And discovered that, oh wow, Ford has flaws.

He's always had them, but they're hidden in his behaviour and the framing of the show that's seen through the eyes of Dipper and Mabel just doesn't paint him in negative light. And seeing as there isn't even that much of interactions between Mabel and Ford, it's more so through Dippers eyes, who deeply admires Ford. You need to dig to see the flaws and well people haven't collectively done so until now, focusing more on the characters with more screentime.

And now that they have it's like. "Oh wow, this guy is kinda... morally gray". And more importantly, they notices that he's self-centered(not selfish, self-centered, big difference!). Ford is stuck in his own head, he's distrustful and paranoid, he has unhealthy coping mechanisms. And it shows. He's not a blatantly terrible person, but he's made terrible choices and decisions and he's hurt people. And some of it is because he was manipulated and abused by Bill, but some is just because of his core flaw. The self-centeredness. It feels like Ford doesn't see past his nose, he deeply believes that everything revolves around him and the only truth is his truth. He needs to feel important, to matter. Desperately. It doesn't just mean that he sees himself as the hero, the saviour and the genius. It also means that in the low moments he sees himself as so much lesser than and that he's absolutely convinced everyone does. That he's convinced all his paranoia is at all times justified. He fundamentally cannot put himself in other people's shoes. And yes that hurts others, and it also hurts him because he jumps to the worst conclusions (such as about Stanley and his intentions) and he becomes convinced he has to be right.

Ford is also, and I'm sorry for saying this, questionably likeable. He's socially awkward and nerdy and many people like that, but it's just objectively not as charismatic. His attempts at being cool, are, well... dorky. And it's endearing in a way, but it's not raw charisma. It doesn't captivate and capture as many people as Bill's fun personality, it doesn't distract from who Ford is. And that's on purpose, because Ford's personality is real. And Bill is performing constantly as part of the act to conceal for bad he is.

If you've had the misfortune of meeting a master manipulator like Bill, oh boy am I sorry for you. But I bet for a very long time you were convinced that person is cool before you escaped them, the experience was almost surreal, right? You can swear they were so fun to hang out with, you didn't even notice when it's gotten so bad. Or maybe, you never even got close to them and on the surface they were just so fun and then you find out how horrible they are through the grape vine, and you ask yourself "wow, really, that guy?".

And truly, most people won't even meet a person like that.

But Ford? You've met a Ford.

In a way, at least.

You've definitely met someone who's so in their head they aren't always pleasant. And that guy doesn't care about appearances - he's not lying to you. Just doesn't see things in a different way. And they're open about it, they will tell you that they're right.

And I bet that, if you got close to a person like that, they unintentionally hurt you. They're not... all that, no. But they're dismissive. They don't understand. They hold grudges because they just can't believe your perspective, not even because they do not want to. They will fluctuate between never taking accountability and defending their actions to death and apologizing and agonising so much that you have to comfort them about their own mistakes because suddenly they're the worst person in the world and everything is their fault. And you know, it hurts. It hurts because you love them, because there's so many genuinely good things about them. But it's so mentally exhausting to keep up with their emotional issues that you slowly start resenting them anyway.

And if you have never gotten close to someone like that, perhaps if you didn't find a part of them charming immediately, you've still met them - you just found them mildly annoying. It's the "Um, actually" guy. The "correct your grammar and pronounciation" guy. Even if they're right it's just so. "God, they're a stuck-up asshole." Even if that's objectively not true because they volunteer to rescue kittens every weekend and have invented the cure for cancer.

And it's so much easier to dislike the real problem. You've never met a dimension destroying monster, nor someone who could control your body in a literal way, nor, you know, a "demon". (At least I fucking hope so?). You've met someone who didn't mean to hurt you but couldn't help it. You've met an annoying kinda stuck-up smart guy. And now you see that guy in Ford and you cannot unsee it and you're projecting your feelings.

[begrudging-fudanshi]

So i stared reading windbreaker after i saw your post about it , it's wholesome manga with amazing fights

in your opinion Why didn't nii satoru reveal Sakura's past until now ? Why was Sakura alone ?

Hell yeah. Welcome to the fandom. I'm glad my propaganda has been working.

To be honest, I've been thinking about this series way too much over the last couple weeks, so this is probably going to be A Lot. I am dumping a lot of accumulated thoughts in here and simultaneously trying to keep a bunch of other thoughts from cluttering it up. If any of this feels disjointed, it's because I've been trying (I swear) to not make this like 10,000 words long lmao.

(CW: Wind Breaker manga spoilers + discussion of child neglect, trauma, feelings of worthlessness, parental loss, grief, and a suicide attempt in the context of the series. Hope you're ready for some pain.)

I'm going to answer your questions in reverse order, because I think they're actually very closely connected.

Sadly, my read on Sakura's past is really dark. Based on what we know so far, there's a lot to suggest that Sakura has been badly neglected for a long time, both physically and emotionally. Based on his lifestyle and the way he talks about himself, I really struggle to believe that he's received any genuine affection or care in many years, if ever. (I'm so glad he was able to go to Furin.)

The flashbacks at the start of episode 1 of the anime suggest he was taken in by relatives who didn't want him, and I think they basically set him up for failure in every way. They seem to have done the bare minimum required of them by the law, like sending him to school, but I can see no evidence that they did much of anything else. Like, what kind of asshole sends a 15-year-old kid to live alone in a barren apartment with literally nothing to wear except his school uniform? Caring people wouldn't let a kid live like that. (That said, I have a bad feeling that his lifestyle seen in chapter 56 is an upgrade compared to what he had before.)

Given this, it's clear Sakura really means it when he says he's always done things by himself. I think this is why he looks so torn up when his friends show him real kindness and why he's so sensitive to anyone showing affection. I also think this means that he really wants to forget his past. This is a big part of why we haven't seen it revealed yet: Sakura isn't ready to revisit it, himself.

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Something interesting about Wind Breaker's backstories is that they all (as far as I and my notes can remember) follow a consistent pattern. They're not just lore dumps that tell us about the character's past. They actually follow each character through a process of changing their beliefs about themselves, often based on their view of the past. This is why they're all in the first person. Some of these changes happen in the present while others are part of flashbacks, but either way the process is basically the same.

In each backstory, the character starts out believing something about themselves that gives rise to a contradiction that keeps them trapped. This belief somehow keeps them from living their best life and, often, stops them from changing their ways to make their best life possible. However, someone else helps them challenge that belief, giving rise to a revelation that lets them change how they see themselves. This change enables them to see new possibilities and lets them move forward towards the life they want.

For example:

Umemiya believed his parents would blame him for their deaths, so he couldn't let himself grieve them nor believe that he deserved to live. His guilt blocked out his memory of the event, keeping him from remembering what really happened. However, a nameless(?) Furin student and Shitara helped him realize that his parents saved him and were happy to see him survive. Thus, he was able to grieve and imagine a future for himself other than his self-destruction.

Kaji believed that his rage was uncontrollable and couldn't even see himself as human. Hiragi helped him realize that he could manage his triggers and change his behavior to be able to find acceptance and live his life.

Tsubaki believed that she couldn't like pretty things or express herself how she wanted. Ito and Yui helped her learn to dress up and present herself the way she liked, allowing her to accept herself and transition. (I know she's not canonically transgender but that's still the best way I can see to describe it.)

After Yui's death, Ito believed that she might never have truly loved him. Tsubaki, Sakura, Suo, and Nirei help him realize the secret meaning of the tree that she planted in his garden, letting him live his life without worrying if she was truly happy.

What's important here is that the character must be ready to have their beliefs about themselves challenged so they can understand their full truth. Otherwise, their story of their past would be incomplete. (Consider what Umemiya's backstory would have sounded like if he still believed he was a murderer.) In fact, we already have an example of this that I'll get to, next.

Because Sakura isn't yet in a position to challenge the beliefs holding him back, he can't reveal his past, either. He has friends helping him, but it's going to be a while before they've truly shaken his most unhelpful beliefs.

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That said, this process has actually played out with Sakura once before and I think it tells us a lot. It shows us exactly why he's not ready to reveal his past.

In chapter 1, Sakura starts out believing that he's meant to always be alone, leading him to initially reject the people of Makochi. Then, Kotoha helps him acknowledge that he does want to be accepted and convinces him to give it a shot. However, while this is great progress and very necessary for Sakura's growth, this isn't a complete resolution. He still has an even more deep-seated belief that has to be addressed.

In addition to asserting that he's meant to be alone, Sakura also lays out another belief in chapter 1 that I argue really gets to the root of his deepest trauma. He doesn't quite say it explicitly, but it underpins both his belief that he's meant to be alone and that he's worth nothing but his fists.

The closest he comes to naming it is when he describes Furin. He says it's "The lowest of the low, hated by all others, worth nothing but their fists … It's a battle to determine the trashiest of the trash. That suits me perfectly."

I have to admit, the first few times I heard and read this, I completely missed how fucked up it is for a 15-year-old kid to say this about himself. I think I've gotten so used to taking shonen protagonists' confident declarations at face value that I just didn't question it, in the same way I've learned not to question, say, 12-year-old Gon deciding to become a pro hunter and travel the world fighting adults. The way it's presented very deliberately (and, I think, cleverly) blunts the impact as well, making use of shonen stylistic conventions to disguise it as stereotypical shonen protagonist bluster. This mirrors how Sakura masks his deeper feelings about himself.

However, as I read through the rest of the manga, it became clear that this is what Sakura actually, deeply believes. He's 15 years old and he truly sees himself as trash—in other words, worthless. The only way he can imagine finding worth in himself is through his strength. Even then, this is only for Sakura himself. He can't let himself imagine anyone else ever valuing him for any reason, so he must find self-worth all on his own. To put it more sharply, he can't imagine deserving unconditional love. Based on what little we do know about his past, this belief stems from a lifetime of emotional neglect.

The thing is, Sakura's belief that he's worthless is actually, paradoxically, a coping mechanism. As horrible as it is, it helps him rationalize his life in a way that lets him keep living despite his neglect and isolation. If he's truly worthless, then he's never had a reason to expect being loved or accepted by anyone—he's always been meant to be alone. This is how he can tell himself that he doesn't care and has given up. This lets him bury the pain of his isolation and pretend it doesn't truly hurt. By believing that he has always been worthless and unable to be (to deserve being) loved, he has had no reason to get his hopes up for the future, nor any reason to question why he's been treated so badly in the past. He can accept it (has to accept it), even if he hates it, because it was always inevitable.

Notice how Sakura reminds himself that he's given up right before punching the Spaltips' leader in chapter 1. This is the story he tells himself to contain the hurt. He does something similar in chapter 56, reminding himself that he's supposed to be alone as he grapples with his friends' kindness. He bludgeons himself with this reminder as a way to push away thoughts about his past. He then shifts his focus to thinking about his growing care for his friends rather than his feelings about himself. Once again, Sakura makes himself turn away.

The trouble is, this belief is his only means of holding back an unfathomable amount of pain inside of him. It's the only way he knows how to live with all the myriad ways he's been treated like shit. To doubt his own worthlessness, therefore, is to expose himself to overwhelming grief. Because, if he isn't worthless, he then has to ask himself why he had to suffer for so long. That kind of question is too awful for him—for pretty much anyone—to face on their own. This coping mechanism protects him, but it also traps him and prevents him from finding relief.

This comes to a head in chapter 1, as the townspeople surround him and the old woman tries to tend to his wound. As she reaches towards him, he screams at her to stay away. This act of genuine kindness fills him with terror. It's not just that he fears eventual rejection—Sakura fears the idea he could be accepted at all. Remember, he's just "failed" to win the fight and, worse, ended up having to be protected because he got hurt. Sakura could accept Kotoha's kindness earlier because he "earned" it by stopping her attackers, but now there's someone trying to help him for what feels like no reason. For Sakura, who must believe that he was never meant to be loved or accepted, being shown kindness for no apparent reason feels like an existential threat. It threatens to undermine the walls that he's built inside of him to keep going. This is why he allows Kotoha to help him instead—he can still rationalize her help as transactional.

This rationalization provides his means of escape. To accept his place in Makochi, he only has to accept that he doesn't have to be alone. He doesn't have to believe that he can be valued or loved unconditionally, nor that he deserved anything better. Instead, Sakura finds a way to "earn" his acceptance: The chapter culminates with Sakura accepting Bofurin, which he shows by leaping over all the others to kick the Spaltips' leader in the face.

By showing his strength, by upstaging the heroes and claiming his place among them, Sakura proves (to himself) that he is strong enough to be accepted. Rather than accept that he could always have been valued and accepted unconditionally—that he always could have been loved—Sakura would rather believe he's earned his acceptance based on his strength.

In this way, Sakura can continue to believe in his own worthlessness, saving himself from having to face his past. Because of this, even as he's learned that he can be accepted, he still maintained his belief that he was meant to be alone from the start (again, see chapter 56). This lets him continue to justify his past suffering and minimize his own pain.

This comes back around in chapter 162, when Sakura's classmates talk about his low self-esteem. Despite their efforts to show him that he's loved and valued, Sakura ultimately still believes he's only worth his strength. We see how he rejects Umemiya's praise, unable to understand how he could be praised when he "failed". Sakura can't believe he could be valued when he couldn't even single-handedly save the town.

But, as long as he believes this, his past will remain a mystery, not just to his friends and to us as readers, but even to Sakura himself. Just as Umemiya's repression kept him from realizing that his parents loved him, Sakura's repression keeps him from realizing that he has always deserved to be loved. He cannot acknowledge, can't even recognize, the pain he's endured in his life, because he still has to believe it didn't matter. Because of this, he can't let himself grieve or admit that he has always deserved better. He's still trapped believing he must always prove his worth through his strength alone.

Of course, changing this isn't going to be easy. He will get there. His friends will help him through it. Still, it's going to be rough. I think it'll be a while yet before he's ready to tell us about his past.

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Addendum

All of that being said, something I really love about Wind Breaker is how hopeful it is and the way it shows Sakura living despite his past. To that end, I want to note one last thing: Sakura can still smile, despite everything else. No matter what he tells himself, he still feels hope.

I mentioned above that I didn't recognize Sakura's low self-esteem at first because it's masked with stereotypical shonen protagonist confidence. I think this is very deliberate by the author. We're supposed to see Sakura as cool, confident, and badass in the beginning, only to realize that he's also hurting inside. (Emphasis: that's also, not instead. These aren't mutually exclusive.) Sakura's cocky grin is part of a mask he wears, but it's not a lie.

While I believe Sakura has suffered a lot, it's important to emphasize that he's not broken or doomed to drown in grief. What I've laid out here is what I believe is going on beneath the surface, and I do believe he's going to have to face his trauma eventually, but let's not forget that our boy can still smile after all of that. The fact that he can smile doesn't mean that he's not hurting, but the fact that he's hurting doesn't mean he only feels pain. Let's not do him dirty by miring our view of him in grief. Instead, as we acknowledge how much he's suffered, let's also be happy at just how far he's come and hopeful for how far he'll go in the future.

[twopoppies]

https://www.tumblr.com/twopoppies/768685561855787008/about-ts-theres-a-lot-of-larries-who-are-also?source=share

Hi Gina!! Sorry for diverting from the topic, but can you please tell me why people are so repulsed by Eleanor? I'm not exactly new here and I've been through the threads about her problematic behaviour during the early days like calling fans names and the whole racist bit she did with her friend (I personally took extra offense to that as an Indian woman) but I also think that she was very young back then and people do stupid shit when they're in their early twenties and don't always apologize for it even when they know better later (not an excuse, just saying that it was a long time ago).

Now I'm not saying that she's for sure a better person now or whatever, I wouldn't know honestly as I don't follow her. But I found her alright during Elounor 2.0 (I joined in 2021) like she posted him sometimes (gave good content honestly), they got papped here and there, when he toured she attended a couple shows. It was all quiet lowkey and straightforward as far as I know (except for the whole airport arrest scandal).

I also struggle with the idea of hating someone just because they're a beard (though a lot of those people end up exhibiting toxic traits seperate from the arrangement), because for that person it's a job/opportunity to further their career, they're not the ones closeting or oppressing the closeted artist. If not her than it would've been someone else just as easily.

I guess my question is, did I miss something here, did she do something during the last few years that warrants such hate? Or is it mostly because of her earlier problematic behaviour + the fact that she was a beard at all?

I ask because I think comparing her to OW (the most horrible ever) might be a bit excessive based on my current knowledge of her.

Thank you in advance!!

I don’t actually know anyone “repulsed” by her. She was hated in the first incarnation of Elounor—in part because some things she supposedly did that were racist/mean. But I think most of it has to do with how miserable Harry and Louis always looked and how she was used as a tool to keep them in line (which was the label/management’s doing).

I think there was this overall perception during the band years that she enjoyed upsetting Harry and that she had done some shitty things to him. Plus, there was a general consensus that her presence was emblematic of their closeting. So when they broke up in 2015 not long after all the craziness of 2014 and the big gay war, fans were really hopeful it was a good sign.

Of course, then we got party boy Louis and babygate. So, be careful what you wish for.

Elounor 2.0 was very different. Louis seemed to be in control of things this time and he looked far less miserable (although not exactly thrilled) and she was so low-maintenance as a beard. Other than the fucking E tattoo that he was forced to talk about incessantly (along with “me little lad” nonsense) in 2017, she basically made a few posts and showed up for a few shows and walked the dogs. She didn’t bother me in the least.

[lesabear]

Thoughts on Veilguard

TLDR: If empty calories were a video game it would be Dragon Age: The Veilguard. The game is a pleasant enough - if generic and unremarkable - action RPG that basically abandons the themes and feel of the previous games, resulting in a bland story that largely avoids dealing with anything that might remotely cause conflict in the party or force the player to consider anything other than surface level good-bad morality.

If this is the direction they're taking DA, then I think I'm done with the franchise. If I wanted a generic, thematically uninteresting, action RPG there are so many other games to play.

Spoilers in my detailed thoughts below

The good:

It looks very nice - I wish I could have spent even more time exploring the world areas.

Very few bugs or technical issues unlike Andromeda (or most new games in general). I had a few minor issues near the end but overall was very impressed.

Manfred and Assan are great secondary companions. If anyone knows where to find a skeleton and/or griffon friend please let me know.

I quite like Emmerich, Davrin and Bellara and romanced the latter two and (Generally) really liked both. Disclaimer: I tend to have different tastes than the majority of DA fandom when it comes to romances. I expected to have mixed feelings on Bellara because of my issues with Bioware and their cutesy awkward naive/inexperienced female characters but I thought they (mostly) got her right.

Some interesting lore stuff, though I quibble with how it was delivered at times. Still was fun to get a lot more info on the Evanuris, Solas, Mythal, the Titans, etc. And there's also some fun lore stuff in the codices, although again I question whether that's the best way to deliver them.

The final mission is a lot of fun and the clear standout quest other than Weisshaupt maybe. Both are a lot of fun and combine multiple story elements with good gameplay for a satisfying experience.

Combat is engaging although it does get repetitive once you "solve" it. I did a lot of grinding to complete content though so that might be my fault.

Solas is very Solas-y in the game and the highlight of the antagonists by far. I wish there had been more of him and I say that as someone who finds the Solas fandom somewhat exhausting at times. He was far more interesting and compelling than the "even-worse" gods and the fact he's a fuck up who keeps making things worse because he's an egotistical fuck-up who thinks he's the only one that can fix things was is both tragic and fun.

Neve-Lucanis and Taash-Harding are both very cute. I actually think they might be my favorite companion romances off the top of my head (Tali-Garrus does absolutely nothing for me, and I don't even romance either character with my Shepard).

The not good

Why is the Inquisitor wearing pajamas.

Bioware can fuck off for making me pop about a zillion blight pimples. It's really not that much fun after the first 1000

Extremely disappointed with how sanitized the narrative is. There's little attention paid to major facets of the DA universe that are directly relevant to the plot (religion, Tevinter slavery, racism toward elves etc.) and you also get stuff like the Crows now being far lighter of an organization than they were previously.

Just as an example - both Davrin and Bellara touch on what it means to have their gods be the villains but they're just topics for conversation and there's no meaningful impact (especially as the bad guys rely on Antaam and Venatori forces - oh and generic mercenaries). The Dalish are just there (or victims of the bad guys) for the most part. I've read comments from Bioware that confirm this but it seemed obvious Bioware wrote themselves into a corner with making Elven gods be the main antagonists, as you then run into the issue of having the elves not only already be a persecuted minority but also be worshipping evil gods - but instead of writing around it they just avoided dealing with it and acted like it's just the Dalish getting a big win by not joining them.

Speaking of enemies, lots of bland dialogue from the non-Solas big bads. And the Venatori/Antaam/mercenaries gave off major "Cerberus in ME3" vibes - nameless, faceless goons thrown at you in waves that got very boring very quickly.

The way a companion gets hardened because of a choice early in the game is mostly meaningless unless you wanted to romance them. People getting mad about that happening are being ridiculous - if anything the game is too afraid (as usual) to have it actual matter beyond them briefly being upset before moving on.

One of the big choices is to decide whether to protect Treviso or Minrathous when both are attacked by dragons, but it happens so early you might lock yourself out of quests without realizing it. Worse, the ensuing mission is incredibly short and boring (basically a couple of packs of generic enemies and then a very brief dragon fight)

Why is the Inqusitor wearing pajamas.

Why can't I be a mean/"bad" Rook? Even the jokey responses feel super tame compared to previous DAs (let alone the borderline assholish purple hawke). Basically you're only allowed to be slightly different variations of a heroic figure.

While the companions are all nice they all top out at "I like them", with none matching the story or emotional peaks of previous Bioware games. Emmerich comes closest (especially if you account for Manfred) but there's just enough meat to him.

Disappointing romances compared to previous Bioware games(especially but not limited to Lucanis.). Not a ton of depth dialogue wise and at times it feels like they put more time into the companion romance than the Rook version (this time I am definitely talking about Lucanis).

Speaking of which, Lucanis was the biggest disappointment of the companions. I didn't want a Zevran clone but you have a hardened assassin possessed by a demon who (if you choose not to save Treviso, which cuts off a lot of his content) just drinks coffee and likes Neve and uh....

Completely forgettable soundtrack which is a major bummer after previous installments. Also, while I didn't have many technical issues, the music not always playing was one of them (although maybe it doesn't really matter given the lack of quality!)

Bad to horrendous incorporation of previous DA story which was also incongruous with the general tone, especially with the handling of the Inquisitor and the treatment of southern Thedas (especially if you get the Emmerich and Harding picnic conversation at an awkward time like I did.)

Lots of disappointing cameos but especially from my Pirate Queen/Wife from DA2. Isabela's hat is indeed very nice but what is that outfit? And I get they didn't want to deal with too complex a world state but man was it a bummer to see her basically reset after everything her and Hawke went through in my main DA2 playthrough.

Why is the Inquisitor wearing pajamas.

What did they do with Harding? Why did she basically get Dagna's story, even if Titan lore is interesting? She's such a nothing character in this game which is such a weird choice given that she's clearly there because they know fans like her.

The "Actually Varric was dead all along" did nothing for me. He barely shows up in game anyway and the weird framing of every appearance and the fact no one other than Rook ever interacts with him gave it away (at least partially)