#i think to others it would seem fine or mild but the things im doing or not doing are uh signs if something being really wrong with me

[opheliac]

uh oh i am fucking up royally now

[pluralescentmoon]

as promised, the "pearl is a system who doesn't know it (yet)" propoganda totally-an-essay for @thecoolerliauditore

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS ABOUT THE CHARACTER. NONE OF THIS IS ABOUT CC!PEARL. I ALSO DO NOT THINK SHE'S DOING THIS INTENTIONALLY. this is just how I'm choosing to interpret her character, because it makes things a LOT more interesting. this also works under the assumption that life series pearl and Hermitcraft pearl are the same character, so if that's not your vibe, that's fine! this is just your warning. I am also not saying all alters in every system has specific roles, or triggers. and if you dont know what im referring to at any point in this post, please let me know! I'm just trying to explain my thought process in a clear and concise way, even for those who don't know specific details about those under the plurality umbrella.

mild wild life spoilers ahead as well! you've been warned!

so! pearl has a bit of an unusual habit of how she refers to herself. she tends to do it in parts. she gives them identities, names. roles. example of this being, post master pearl, the cleaning lady, scarlet pearl, editor pearl (yes this one too i PROMISE I promise it'll make sense). each of these are like specific "characters". they're masks she puts on, to play the part of that specific pearl. they have their purpose, their roles, their clothes (separate skins). each of them are similar, but still unique and distinct from each other.

each one of these pearls has a purpose, a specific role they play in her life. they're specifically called upon for their tasks. for certain things, there's a pearl for it. it's almost as if these pearls have triggers that pull them out for specific reasons that seem important to helping their shared body…

an example of this is, there was a point recently in Pearl's season 10 where she was rebuilding her storage room. and, she found herself in a familiar set of clothes. taking care of the mess, as the cleaning lady. which leads to interesting implications! c!pearl feeling like she needs to change into another set of clothes to do something like organizing her chest, and call herself a specific title while doing so

cc!pearl has even said she sees her character as having phases (like the moon lol). and that she likes wearing specific skins (clothes) for them.

I think these specific pearls, these segregated parts of pearl, are her alters. alters that have specific clothes they prefer to wear, triggers to pull them to the front, and roles they fill in the system.

now that brings up the question, what are their roles exactly?

we'll start with the easy ones!

Normal Hermitcraft Pearl - Host. the silly. she's a goofy gal, the one we see the most. she's also given these other parts of herself names, based on the tasks that they carry out. she just thinks she's putting on a few different masks for each of these characters, and does not realize what's going on at all.

Post Master Pearl - this would be the one who works in the post office, the one who wants to deliver the mail. she's their work alter! she mainly does stuff with the mail system, including building the top part of some mailboxes or retrieving the lost parcels

Cleaning Lady - this one feels pretty self explanatory. she likes to clean and organize, and I think she could be contributed to a caretaker, as I'm going to contribute the SOUP thing to her, since it was season 9 more than anything else. she's here to clean and make sure they have good meals, but gets stressed about it sometimes. she also absolutely has nightmares about Grian's storage prank lol

Scarlet Pearl - abandonment/trust issues given form, scarlet would be a protector/trauma holder. we saw her forming in double life! she's the reason pearl seems to go from being fine with Scott, to snarking him. i think host pearl is, consciously or not, trying to suppress scarlet pearl from fronting in wild life, as host pearl does want to be friends with scott again… because she doesn't remember the extent of her trauma from double life. not the full of it anyways.

I have a lot of thoughts about protector scarlet pearl ngl but we'll get back to that. there's one more alter to talk about first.

I also have some thoughts about her having a Santa Perla introject because of Sausage's influence, but that one is less solid. still, she gets an honorable mention.

and now the biggest one. somehow the silliest one, and also the one I feel the strongest about. editor pearl.

editor pearl is of course, a silly OOC joke… but the implications of her existing are so very interesting. if we take the videos to be how pearl remembers things, if we take them as how she would tell things to others, then this means there's things that are purposefully… cut out of what she remembers. things that change context, or that are even almost… too much to remember. it's like she has someone there, taking snippets of her memories away. making her forget them, making her retell events in different ways than others.

that's what editor pearl is.

editor pearl is the alter that takes care of their memories. she cuts out the parts she doesn't want pearl to remember, because they're too traumatizing, they arent important, or she doesn't sees them as worth remembering.

this affects how pearl sees not only herself, but everyone else around her. conversations are forgotten by her, but not by the other side. the way certain memories are framed change drastically when you can only remember the parts that someone else WANTS you to remember. editor pearl is a memory holder, who just wants to help their system out by keeping the Good parts. she's gives pearl what she thinks pearl will want to remember, which means pearl only tells the parts editor pearl approves of.

I think, with everything going on in wild life, pearl is well on her way to discovering just what's going on inside her mind. whether she wants to, or not. scarlet pearl can only be held back for so long, and pearl has been doing that for two sessions now.

oh, sure, scarlet was allowed to snark in the first episode. but the second episode, comparing it to Cleo's POV… there's things missing. things cut out. entire conversations left completely out of Pearl's version of the story.

I think editor Pearl and scarlet pearl are working together a bit. cut out the memories of scarlet saying she wants to throw up at the idea of being family. and so many other little lines. cut it all out, make it easier to remember, easier to deal with.

because, after all, they just want to do their jobs. they just want to help, to make life more bearable. to make everything okay. host may not want them to, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her…

but this isn't built to last. not with host pearl keeping scarlet locked away as tightly as she is. sooner or later, something has to give. and sooner or later, they'll figure out what's going on. I have a feeling it's going to be messy, because pearl (scarlet) doesn't like feeling like people thinks she's crazy. and this will only make her feel crazy before the end.

but it can't last the way it has been. eventually, something is gonna break. or, maybe instead someone.

this isnt going to go well for host pearl.

[pav-ia]

okay okay, hear me out.

pavia but hes like,,, waking up from some sort of nightmare or a mild painful memory of his childhood, yk.. when bro was forced into a basement. imagine the cold nights, jfc. and like he wakes up,, but this time he has his s/o with him. and bby is safe <3

he has someone to protect now at least right? pls give us the reader comforting this man I BEG pooki 💔💔

i imagine him to be reluctant to the touch but he eases into it. i remember you mentioned he has mild trust issues so,, comforting touches must be rlly foreign to him

anon i am madly in love with you

,, nightmare ”

pavia x gn reader !

cw :: reverse comfort, slight angst, kinda short

on one of the rare nights where your boyfriend is tired enough to sleep for more than an hour at a time. the human body is not built for lasting long times without sleep, and even if he wasnt entirely human, he still followed this rule by nature. hed insisted that hid wolf companions would sleep on the floor this time so you could cuddle together comfortably and alone.

after waking up in the middle of the night, you were a bit thirsty. leaving bed to grab a cup of water, when you returned, you saw pavia uncomfortably twitching in his sleep. his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were squeezed shut, tense and rigid muscles making you realize he was having a nightmare.

you left the door open as the room was dimly lit by the light in the hallway, placing the cup on the nightstand. his wolf leon had an eye open and was watching you as you gently shook him.

“pavia.. wake up…” you urged in a whisper, relieved when he jolted up. his eyes were panicked, horrified almost as if he was a tortured man. his heartbeat was erratic, so loud you could hear it and his skin was cold. he curled away from your touch, his eyes taking time to adjust and focus on the light coming from the doorway.

when you turned the bedside lamp on, you could see the realization slowly settling into his expression. he took a few more moments to calm down, running a shaking hand through his messy hair. you placed your hand on his thigh, not failing to notice the way his muscles tensed under you, before relaxing slowly.

“im sorry.” he muttered in shame, his expression bitter and trained on the floor. he seemed to be embarrassed of his own self.

“dont be.” you say in a gentle tone. to him, your tone was almost motherly, so comforting, so safe, so dangerously sweet. he didnt like how he wanted to turn his back on you, to let you see all of him. he wiped at the sweat on his forehead with the blanket, and you could see the exhaustion on his face.

neither of you were talking. you were sitting on one side of the blanket, him on the other. you really wanted to comfort him, but a small part of you knew that he wasnt ready yet.

you open your arms for him, a tender gesture. he stares you down, seeming to contemplate, but decided against it. “im fine.” he says in a very unconvincing tone.

“wanna talk about it?” you offer, putting your arms down. you werent going to force him to do anything he didnt want to.

he leaned against the headboard, slowly sliding down until his head hit the pillow. truth be told, you expected him to decline your offer, but after a minute of staring at the dark ceiling, he placed a hand over his eyes.

“i dont like the dark. it reminds me of things i dont want to remember.” he mumbles. his tattoos move along with his flexing muscles, his arm tensing and untensing periodically. “bad childhood.”

you made a small hum of sympathy, getting out of bed to close the door. you kept the lamp on as you crawled into bed next to him. “thats alright. i dont like the dark either.” you whisper. “all that matters is youre safe now.”

he is silent for a while. you almost think that hes fallen back asleep, but he turns around and wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your side. he relaxes under your touch when you hug him back, his grip around you tightening as if he didnt want you to leave.

“im safe now. thank you, mio sole.” he whispers.

“thats right, youre out of there.” you hold him close, letting him be exposed completely around you. much like a kicked dog, even if he was skeptical of you, all he wanted was to be loved.

and loved he was.

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 2

Title: Unknown Numbers and Sharp Tongues

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: You get a text from an unknown number and it flips your day upside down.

Warnings: PG13, mild swearing, arguments

Word Count: 3065

Release Date: February 2, 2023, 1:40PM

A/N 1: She’s shorter but just as important

Series: Chapter One

It’s 12:07pm the Wednesday after the assembly. You're sitting on your bed sketching when a text vibration sounds from somewhere within the blankets crumpled beneath you. 

A pencil lead stained hand carefully snakes its way through the sheets to find your phone, and after locating it by your feet, you see a message from an unknown number waiting to be read.

Unknown Sender [12:07pm]: Hey, is this YN?

You raise a brow at the semi-suspicious text.

Normally when this happens, you just delete the message. You have everyone you're willing to speak with in your contacts already, so you know that it’s most likely spam. But the difference with this one?

They know your name. 

That being said, your guy friends back home have been known to, on occasion, pull shit because they know you can’t do anything about it. 

Though, that has never once stopped you from waiting to see them again in person and retaliating. Patience is a virtue and all that, but you think they’d of learned by now…

So you fire back, just in case.

You [12:08pm]: Hobi I s2g if this is you again I’m sending Nayeon that picture of you from 9th grade with shutter shades on and your ass stuck in a tuba 

Unknown Sender [12:08pm]: Oh wow, uhm…no, its not Unknown Sender [12:09pm]: But remind me never to get on your bad side.  Unknown Sender [12:10pm]: It’s Jungkook actually... I may have grabbed your number from Yuri’s phone. I hope it’s okay I messaged you 

Jungkook?

As in The Prince of the Western Shores, Jungkook?

Well...

This certainly isn’t how you thought your afternoon was going to go. 

You figured you'd never hear from him again after Monday’s assembly, like everyone else he’d greeted—Yuri aside apparently. Yet here you were, on your bed, in your university dorm room, having a midday text conversation with Prince Jeon Jungkook of all people.

You laugh to yourself and quickly change his name in your contacts, keeping it subtle. You don’t want someone to see his name pop on your screen and then suddenly have a legion of people harassing you about how you got the prince's number, and if they could get it from you. 

You [12:11pm]: yeah, it’s fine

And why wouldn't it be? You don’t dislike him, though he seemed to have thought so. Sure, you don’t particularly like the guy yet, but you're confident he feels the same about you—if he even thinks of you, that is.  

He probably just wants recommendations for things to do this weekend or to know where the cleanest washrooms on campus are. God forbid his royal bottom touch a less than sanitary toilet seat.

PJK [12:13pm]: Im afraid she had to explain to me who ‘blueballzbitch’ was when I accidentally saw your text to her the other day. Apparently my reaction after reading it was very funny

You [12:13pm]: I cant believe she still hasnt changed my name in her phone! That bitch!! she promised :( You [12:14pm]: Thats only my name because i told her she couldnt bring guys back to our dorm after 1 AM anymore! 

PJK [12:14pm]: can I ask why?

You [12:15pm]: there may have been an incident of a very drunk half naked man climbing into my bed at 4 am instead of hers….  You [12:15pm]: And needless to say, not the nicest way to wake up

PJK [12:16pm]: no I would think not. Though that explains her reaction a bit better

You didn’t even want to know. 

She did kick that guy out the second she heard your scream though, drunk as she was. But it didn’t stop her from moping for a week at your new rule.

Tough, you’d had a test the next day, so your decision was final. 

Your academics wouldn’t pay the price for someone else’s actions. On that you were and always have been, firm. You’ve even lost a few friends because of it.

But now your starting to wonder why he wanted to message you in the first place.

You [12:17pm]: i dont mean to be rude, but why did you save my number? To be honest i didnt think I’d hear from you again after monday

PJK [12:18pm]: well if we’re being honest…

There are a million different ways he could follow that sentence, and your mind is simultaneously running through all of them.

It takes him a few minutes, and a couple disappearance and reappearances of the texting in progress bubble, before a reply comes. Your pencil may or may not be a bit chewed on the end as a result.

PJK [12:21pm]: I was hoping that we could be friends, or acquaintances at least. I dont mean to come on too strong, its just that…. well you’re the only one whos really treated me like a regular guy, and i’d like to have at least one person to speak to who wont ‘glaze over the truth with pretty white lies’ just because of who I am. Its a surprisingly hard attribute to come by in people when you have words like “prince” and “your highness” attached to your name PJK [12:22pm]: Everyone either wants something from me or something I can do for them, and when we met? I could see you just…didn’t. It’s like you didnt even care I was there and that was incredibly refreshing for me PJK [12:23pm]: so um, yeah… that’s why

Oh… 

Oh. 

You were expecting anything else. Like literally anything else. He could’ve messaged you saying he wanted to give up being prince to join a traveling circus and was wondering if you knew the quickest train route into town and you would’ve been less surprised than you are right now.

But…Friends? He just wanted to be friends?

You guess you played your part a little too well on Monday. A part you didn't even realize you were performing. 

Was it really so difficult for people to treat him normally that the only person who had done so in three days, was you? And it was so noticeable that he sought you out because of it? His professors, at least, would have treated him like any other student…right?

You sit up, sketch long discarded on your bedside table. 

What would Yuri think about this? What would Nel think? Jungkook isn't just some guy from your Advanced Colour Theory class, he's the prince of your kingdom. 

You know your boyfriend wouldn't care if Jungkook kissed your hand in a passing greeting, that’s the standard greeting for every woman. 

But friends? 

Regular contact? 

Potentially being seen in public with him? 

Even a high ranking societal man would feel threatened, let alone Nel; the highschool boy you fell in love with from your tiny hometown.

Biting your lip, you think. 

You’re not an idiot. You know if people see you—a girl—hanging out with Jungkook—the prince, but more importantly, a boy—publicly, they will start talking. You know how the media make grand stories from two anonymously sourced, out of context quotes and a grainy picture from 100 feet away. 

What you don’t know is if you would or even could handle the public speculation that came with that. 

You don't want the media to come between you and your education. You don’t want to be at the center of attention. You worked way too hard to get where you are to have it washed away with a shitty ‘Prince Jungkook's college fling’ article that holds headlines for less than a week before the news cycle changes. 

Your credibility would be gone in an instant. And you’d only ever be remembered as ‘that girl the prince probably slept with in college.’

You should say no.

You’re going to say no.

—Wait.

Are you even allowed to say no?

Your phone pings again.

PJK [12:24pm]: i really just want my university experience to be as normal as possible before having to trade it all in for a crown and kingdom. It’s my last shot to experience life as a person before becoming a symbol and im hoping youll be kind enough to help me with that  PJK [12:24pm]: but i understand if you dont want to. Like i said in my speech, im not unaware of the repercussions of my celebrity, and its effects on others, both positive and negative. So please by all means, whatever answer you give, i’ll understand

Shit.

Shit!

Now you’ll feel like an ass if you say no, and you know that wasn’t his intention with the message, but you can't help it. He just wants to be as ordinary as he can be for a while. That isn’t a lot to ask—of anybody. 

After re-reading his messages about a dozen more times, you find your entire view of Jungkook shifting in an instant. 

Maybe he was the spoiled, rich, and plate delivered opportunities prince you expected him to be, but funnily enough, somewhere along the way it was you who forgot that he was an regular person. Just like you had told Yuri such a short time ago, and just like you now had to remind yourself. 

Jungkook’s really not much different than someone without all the special features his title brings him.

And with that in mind, you know your reply.

You [12:30pm]: can i think about it?

And not seconds later.

PJK [12:30pm]: absolutely.

A breath you didn’t know you were holding releases.

PJK [12:31pm]: that’s already further than i thought i’d get—if we’re still being honest. 

You [12:33pm]: im always honest, you dont have to worry about that. And same goes for you, dont worry about being truthful with me. Lies only create problems, and i dont have the time for them

PJK [12:35]: glad to hear it. I look forward to your answer, whenever and whatever you decide

Gently tossing your phone back onto your bed, you leave the conversation at that. You know you wouldn’t be able to make your mind up without going through all possible outcomes in your head first. And Yuri is usually a good enough listener to pipe in with decent advice now and then. 

So, for now, you pick up your pencil and sketch pad, and wait for Yuri to return from her afternoon class. 

A few hours later, and a decent way through your third life study, Yuri bursts through the front entryway. Your bedroom door’s open, and you’ve got a clear view of her shucking off her shoes and outer layers after casting her books onto the dining room table. 

So much for your focus. 

But you're glad she’s back, your conversation with Jungkook from earlier is still wracking your brain.

“YN, Sweets! You are NEVER going to believe the day I’ve had!” Yuri makes her way over to your bed, inhaling deeply enough you know a monologue is about to follow.

“Me too! But you first,” you slip in before the floodgates burst, knowing all her focus will be solely centered on you the second you mention Jungkook reaching out. 

“Jungkook invited me to lunch!” 

Or maybe not.

“Well sort of, that’s why I’m late getting back. He asked if there was a more secluded place to eat on campus,” she says the word like it’s a secret. Like she thinks he asked for seclusion to have it be a more intimate setting with her, versus a more private space for him. 

“So I showed him that little cafe behind the greenhouse that no one ever goes to cuz it’s too far away from central campus—you know the one that might as well just be a part of the greenhouse cuz of how close it is?” 

You nod. You were very familiar with that cafe, frequently going there to paint the flowers in the windows, and also, to think. But she doesn’t know that. It was sort of a safe haven for you, because like she said, it wasn’t a very popular place on campus, so it was quiet. 

You didn’t know Yuri even knew about it. 

Now sitting criss-crossed on the end of your bed, she continues, “Yeah, so I brought him there and we both got coffee, then I got a croissant and he got a sandwich. But YN, get this: we take. our coffee. the. same. way. Try and tell me we’re not made for one another now! Same major, same coffee, next thing you know we’ll be finding out we’d picked out the same baby names.” 

She stops to take a breath and you take your cue. “Woah there, Yurls, slow down a bit on that last one,” she makes a face at you. You ignore it. “But I think it’s great you're making a new friend that you have common interests with and are excited about,” you say, putting extra emphasis on ‘friend,’ thinking back to your conversation with Jungkook about people only ever wanting things he could give them. Surely you could subtly help your friend this way. “Just try to remember you have to be friends first before anything else happens.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Friends? YN please! We’re practically already dating, that’s three times in as many days he’s asked to hang out,” she closes her eyes, hugging herself. “I can almost hear the wedding bells.”

You look at her plainly and try your best not to sigh. 

She must know that this is just Jungkook taking her up on her offer, right? The one she made after seeing him off to the cafe by the biz-admin building the other day?

Before they parted ways, Yuri’d mentioned to him that if he wanted more inside knowledge or help getting around the campus he could ask her. And it made sense, having all their classes in the same area, when he said, ‘I’ll take you up on that.’

You know, because not unlike this conversation, she’d rushed home right after to tell you. 

Jungkook’s just trying to get his bearings in what is clearly still a very new experience for him and Yuri’s reading into it all wrong. 

You look at your friend who’s staring dreamily at nothing, more than likely caught up in whatever wedding scenarios of herself and Jungkook her brain is creating. 

Waving a fruitless hand in front of her face before snapping your fingers, you break her trance. “Helloooo? Earth to Yuri, come back down here please so I can talk some sense into youuuuu.” 

“I’m here,” she says, smacking your hand away playfully, gaze snapping to your less than amused one. Her smile falters at the sight. “What’s that look for?”

“Oh nothing, just that you sound like a delusional teenager instead of a functional adult at university pursuing a degree. You just met the guy three days ago and you’re already picturing your wedding together? Because you hung out over coffee twice and showed him where his classes are? He’s still a stranger, Yuri. Can’t you hear yourself?”

Her expression quickly changes to one of offense, and maybe even hurt. 

Perhaps you’d been a little too honest, but it’s not like this was new for you two. Sometimes she needed a swift blow to knock her down and she knows this, she knows you’d never intend to hurt her feelings. You always wanted what was best for her, and you know she feels the exact same way for you. 

So you’re shocked when she says, “You know you don’t have to be such a bitch about it if you’re going to be jealous,” crossing her arms defensively.

Jealous? You are anything but jealous, and you wonder why that’s where her mind jumps to first, brows scrunching in confusion.

“I’m not jealous. Have you forgotten about Nel? Boyfriend of five years, highschool sweetheart, ringing a bell?”

“Nel’s not a prince YN,” she counters in a tone so even, it’s unsettling. “And it wouldn’t be so unheard of for a woman in a relationship to be jealous of her friend who’s in one with a prince she wants for herself.” 

Oh, so that’s where she wants to go with this. She thinks that Jungkook will somehow make you forget about the five wonderful years with Nel. Like half a decade measures up to nothing if it means getting someone with a better name and a bigger paycheck. 

Fine.

If she wants to get bitchy about it, so will you. 

“Yeah, well it’s a good thing you’re not dating one then, isn’t it? Don’t get so defensive when all I’m doing is trying to help you see that.”

Yuri stands dramatically from the bed, clearly pissed, and storms out of your room, grabbing her things from the dining room table.

“I’m going to my macroeconomics class. By the time I get back, either have your door closed, or don’t be here.”

She leaves as rushed as she came, and you try not to flinch at the front door slamming shut, but do anyway. 

You shove your work off to the side, bringing your knees up to rest your elbows on while the palms of your hands cover your eyes, giving yourself a moment to breathe and process. 

This isn’t the first time this has happened and it certainly won't be the last. It was a downside between your personalities. You were the anchor who kept her from soaring too high in the clouds, just like she was the helium that kept you from drowning. 

But sometimes she wanted to see the stars, and sometimes you were scared of the surface. 

Releasing a deep breath, you decide to head out, having finished school for the day anyway. You only had morning classes on Wednesdays—an intentional scheduling on your behalf to have somewhat of a break midweek. You work hard but also know that burnout can kill.

Switching out your pencils for watercolour paint trays, and your sketchpad for your watercolour paper, you decide that the greenhouse sounded great right about now, especially now that you knew Yuri wouldn’t be there. 

There isn’t a better place for you to go and blow off some steam. 

Tossing your brushes, materials, travel water and wallet in a tote, you slide on your shoes and leave the dorm. The door closes much quieter this time. 

Chapter Three: Greenhouse Muses and Surprise Guests

A/N 2: I’m pretty sure this is the shortest chapter in the series (so far) but as you’ve read it’s an important step so I hope that’s okay!

<- Back

[submariini]

Thee Antwerp Gig Overview (by #5)

me and @jeevm arrived around 7:50am at the gig, numbers 4 and 5 bc belgians simply are not a queuing people. not much happened beside chaotic uno and trix doing a short interview with us seven? i think at that point i forget

the bus arrived a little before ten am, and we were allowed to sit inside at that point so we just all went outside again and just stood there for a whole ass three hours being clowns.

jaakko, jukka and jesse walked by a few times entirely undisturbed bc belgians also do not talk ever. (and dutch ppl ig). respectful times.

eventually, at around one, Häärijä got off the bus (mostly as a distraction for K going the other way). This man came by like proper we thought he was gonna just walk by, but he waved and then decided to ignore everyone and beeline straight into my direction for a hug? hello? unsure how he still knows what i look like (was not in the yellow tshirt yet bc cold and he hasnt seen me since simerock).

K and Jesse came by as well -- please note at this point there were like goddamn 40 people there. Nothing like the Munich papal visit scenes at any point.

K just the nicest. Didn't remember me from simerock (fair, it was a factory of photographs) and was like wtf rollo (as per ushe), complimented my boots bc he likes them (they are r+ but usually kids sizes) and i got to be "mean" abt the r+ ticket sale and the bus making it stressful. When he asked it I wanted him to sign anything, I didn't have anything and he just offered to sign my boots? Man did not expect the clown to clown communication that was happening bc he seemed very oh god for real when I agreed.

Someone gave him a necklace and instantly wanted to put it on. The person who gave it couldn't fasten it bc nails/shaking hands so I offered to try and then idk how it got fastened bc christ I shook as well. Not helpful: Mikke both filming that and the boot signing up close 😭

Told Jesse he told me at simerock that I should just join the tour bus and he went "yeah that sounds like something I would say." then scolded me for not having been in Berlin for that 😭

H wandered back and forth a bit, had another weird football chat (rip hazards career) where I was sitting on a little wall, back to the bus still at that point, and he just leaned into me turning around and just held my shoulders the entire time? When I got sweaty and took my hoodie off later he also suddenly grabbed my tshirt when it was riding up I am Feeling Fine.

Was wearing the yellow tshirt w the cross stitch and he made me turn to show Jesse??? And Jesse did the nicest "wait can I touch this?" bc I guess he thought it would be fragile???

People formed a nice selfie line and K just said he's santa claus 🎅

H vanished, then came back out of the bus, and we had a weird mime moment bc I wasnt sure if he was motioning at me to get to him away from the rest. He was and I got fucking free merch??? Like free, not yet available merch. Genuinely what the FUCK. Im making an extra post abt this most likely bc I cannot explain what the hell happened in that moment and the things around it.

When Mikke did the interview w the first queuer, H just stood behind the glass door into the venue and started miming at us. Like not even properly in character? Help.

Gig

Jesus Belgian audiences proving once again we just Are like that. Refusing to goddamn shut up. Every time. Man disallowed to banter by loud belgian screaming. He seemed so touched though jesus christ time to cry

Got roasted for basically slut dropping and shooting my Häärijä sign up in the air before Mic Mac. "yes that mean fucking häärijä" local man fed up w my antics.

Got roasted AGAIN straight after Mic Mac because I was the person he pointed at during the "this is your home now" bit. (promptly decided diving behind the barrier and Face In Hands was the best reply)

Mild bit before the 2nd Cha Cha Cha as I was the front row person he called out for not sitting down. Just yelled that I got bad knees and I'm not sure anyone caught his reply properly 😂

Overall 10/10 excellent gig what the HELL. The belly flop on the balloon, the whole banter before paidaton bc so much of the queue ppl I was with took their shirt off, the way we refused to kept chanting, him trying to eat the bubbles, him talking about Hs dick and the whole balls convo??

Post Gig

Had to pick up merch for a few people, so went with the hope of a third Häärijä hug. He eventually got a bit held up outside of merch by people (lit at the door into the merch room) and I got to just "Sorry it's me again" but he just instantly hug. We talked a little about the gig (did I like it, how I was doing) and like K feeling much better/doing better ft. some dumb crap.

Merch was in fact gotten after I just LOST my friends bc of H.

CANNOT wait for London. and Glasgow but thats with normal people. Like met so many fun people in the queue who are going to be at London jesus christ. Party time.

[hyukasluvr]

Bye, angel

✧ pairing - Taehyun x reader

✧ genre - angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

✧ warning - talking about the death of a dog and a mild argument, and i think that’s it if there’s anything else let me know please!

✧ summary - in the middle of the day you get a call which you think could be one of the worst calls you’ve got in your whole life… you receive the worst news and it gets you really upset but you don’t want to let taehyun know about this… he’ll just think you’re stupid, right?

✧ a/n - this is very self indulgent since i recently had a situation like that.. only i didn’t have a taehyun to help me through but anyways, i’m sorry if i misspelled anything, whatever thoughts u guys want to share with me please do, and now enjoy!

that was one of the worst calls you could ever receive. if not the worst one.

your mom has just called you to give you one of the worst news ever… it was your dog, your dog that had spent his whole life with you was now gone.

you were in utter shock. it was just a week ago that she had called you to tell you that your dog was at the vet and now he’s gone?

this just all seemed like a cruel joke, it didn’t feel right to think that your small ball of fur which you had spent your entire childhood with was now completely gone

you wondered if calling taehyun to come home and be with you would be a good idea… but it wasn’t, was it? wouldn’t taehyun just think you’re being dramatic? it’s just a dog isn’t? wouldn’t he be embarrassed of you bothering him at work just cause you were sad over a dog?

your head kept running around these thoughts. and now you were left there all alone holding back tears, cause even tho you were home alone. if you cried, your eyes would get puffy and taehyun would notice right away.

taehyun was out for practice and wasn’t coming back home until very late, and you were glad he wasn’t here he didn’t have to know this happened and everything would be normal, right?…

you decided to keep your mind busy by watching tv, although you knew your mind was never gonna focus on the show you put.

hours later taehyun arrived home, tired but giddy cause he’s finally seeing you after a long day of practice

"hey love! i brought some takeout” he said when he spotted your figure in the couch

"mhm” was all you answered. still lost in your own thoughts, just looking up at him once you saw him approach the sofa

"are you okay y/n? you look kind of lost” he asked while sitting down next you on the couch

"i’m great. why would i not be?” you said, regretting it a second later cause come on. what was that type of answer. ugh.

he chuckled and just pulled you up from the couch "okay then, let’s go eat before it gets cold”

you followed along sitting down in front of him.

"so um… how was your day?" you asked him.

"well it was quite stressful im not gonna lie, today we had to run over the same choreography for so long i feel like the song is still on playing in my mind right now” he chuckled and looked up at you smiling.

you smiled back at him but your eyes didn’t match your smile. your eyes looked empty and sad.

taehyun knew something was up but you didn’t want to tell him so he had to find out someway

"and how was your day, honey?” he asked before taking a bite out of his food.

"it was okay. i just did some laundry and went out to the convenience store to buy a drink" you said while poking at your food plate.

"oh! and how’s your doggie doing?” he asked looking at you expectantly

suddenly you stopped poking your food and just stared at the plate without saying a single thing. you kept your head low cause you did not want to risk looking at taehyun and immediately breaking down.

him on the other hand. he watched you intently waiting for an answer but growing more worried by the minute because you seemed to be frozen.

"love? is everything okay?” concern was evident in his voice but you refused to look at him, but you just couldn’t react and give him reassurance that everything was fine, cuz for you it really wasn’t.

"y/n! hello?” he got up from his chair and walked around the table to sit down at the chair beside yours.

he moved the plate away from you and he took the fork out of your hand so he could grab your shoulders to face him.

you felt how he moved you but you still decided not to look at him, you were not going to break down so easily. let him think you’re stupid and childish for crying over a dog? you refused to let that happen.

"love, i need you to tell me what’s wrong so i can help you” damn it! he made it so hard for you not to comply, his sweet talk got you weak to the point you almost fell… but you didn’t.

instead what you said really shocked him.

"it’s none of your business.. why do you care?”…

as those words left your mouth you felt instant regret for hurting him. he only wanted to help you but this was the only way to avoid the situation. you pulled your hands away from him and stood up to leave the table, but taehyun stopped you by grabbing your hand and standing up in front of you.

"what has gotten into you y/n? when have i not cared for you??” he was getting a bit irritated and you noticed it in his tone.

"nothing has gotten in me, why can’t i be serious for once? do you think life is all rainbows and unicorns? WELL ITS NOT!” you yell out.

you once again pulled your hand away from his and started to make your way to your shared bedroom. leaving taehyun utterly shocked at your behavior but he was definitely not gonna go after you until he heard a loud thud from your direction.

you were so mentally and physically tired from hiding your pain and your tears that as soon as your foot touched the first step of the stairs, your whole body gave up on you and you fell to the floor finally letting out that painful sob you had been holding in for what felt like an eternity.

taehyun didn’t hesitate to run to you and help you up, but your body was too weak so instead he positioned himself at the floor of the staircase and put you on his lap hugging you so tight that you felt like you could finally let it out.

minutes and minutes passed by and u couldn’t calm down, taehyun didn’t hurry you to say a single thing… he was just there telling you "it’s okay, love, let it out don’t hold back with me, i’ll be right here” which just made you more sad and mad at yourself for trying to shut him out when he’s so sweet to you.

after what felt like hours, you finally felt calm enough to tell him the truth. you looked up at him and he swore he could feel his heart break at your tired and sad eyes looking all red and puffy from crying so hard, he hated seeing you sad but this time it was different… he had never seen you in such a state that he felt totally broken but he was always gonna be strong for you if that’s what you needed.

"taehyun… my dog, my angel, my baby… she’s… she’s gone. forever.” you said trying to hold your sobs in, of course failing miserably.

he heard that and immediately hugged you tight as ever and said "oh my god… i am so sorry baby, i know how much you loved her… i truly can’t imagine the pain you must feel right now, angel. i really wish i could take it away from you”.

you separated from him for a minute to look at him to keep talking, he never let you go tho, still holding you in his arms but always ready to listen to you.

"i’m so sorry for the way i acted towards you right now-“ you saw him open his mouth to protest but you quickly told him "stop, im not finished” he closed his mouth almost immediately which made you chuckle.

"i acted that way cause… i don’t know why i felt like you would find me to be a bit childish for crying over a dogs death like if it was a person, i know you said you’d never judge me… but i felt a lot of things today after getting the news, so i really am sorry, tyun. you didn’t deserve that” you finished looking up at his eyes after trying to avoid eye contact for a while but his eyes never left yours… he was looking at you so fondly that you could honestly melt.

"sweetheart, don’t apologize! i can totally understand that when you’re upset you sometimes don’t even know what to do with all of these feelings you get and sometimes they get the best of you. but believe me. id never ever think you’re stupid for crying over a dog… especially a dog that meant so much to you and that was your partner in crime for almost your whole life” he chuckled lightly and so did you but still feeling a couple of stray tears run down your face. taehyun brought his hands up to your face and wiped underneath your eyes to take away every tear he could before continuing.

"i think you’re such a strong person for putting up with such rough paths life gives you, i am really really proud of you, love” he hugged you once again and whispered a quiet 'i love you' against your ear and you said it back before giving him a sweet little peck on the lips. "alright how about we finish eating our dinner while watching a movie, do you like the idea?” he said, now standing up and helping you stand up.

"i actually love that idea, mr. kang” you tell him teasingly. "well miss l/n, why don’t you pick a movie while i go reheat our food since i’m pretty sure it’s cold by now”.

"that sound great" you tell him before going to the couch to pick a movie to watch together.

both of you ate dinner together while laughing at a stupid comedy movie you found there, feeling so much better after everything that happened, and feeling like you’ve learned a lesson that after that you’d never hide such things from him, cause he’ll always be there for you.

[sadevergreen]

as a camp counselor (technically not currently bc i went home for Illness) and homestuck fan (also technically not currently bc I'm too busy being a camp counselor) i love camp skaia. which homestuck characters are most likely to be the "we're ALL sick there's no reason you can't do the hike up the hill" (has mild cold and vague heatsickness at worst) counselor x "actual lung infection but thinks it's a really normal cold" (very easily gaslit) counselor program group pair? i feel like eridan and kanaya are hot contenders here

ooo ok this is so good- apologies for the ever loving hell that you are about to see but i sought assistance from my dear dear pale friend @marv3l-drag0ns !!!!!!!! MUAH PLATONICALLLY <> ILY they were a huge help in putting this together

BOY DO I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ON THIS, THIS WAS EXTREMELY FUN :D

so let’s begin: my immediate instinct was kanaya and tavros are the most easily gaslit, or adhere most to given direction (we’re not going to talk about HIM). but then who to pair them with? they are both wet cats that won’t work. we decided that YES kanaya and eridan definitely make sense! but in which role? it may seem obvious but NO! eridan too sick? whiny fussy pitiful sopping kitty he’s just a beanbag full of milk! so we decided barely sick eridan, otherwise he’d be throwing a fit. instead he’s referring to his Superior Genes! and kanaya is. strugglin. but fuck man here we are 🤷‍♂️

But we’re not done yet!

the next we considered was karkat and terezi!! especially aided through the lens of karkat’s old crush on terezi; he’s too whipped and in denial to deny a girl a hand!

this led to possibly the funniest thing ever: THE INNER KANKRI THAT EVERYONE HAS AND HE SITS ON YOUR SHOULDER AND REMINDS YOU TO BE DECENT AND LEAVE ROOM FOR KANKRI

for the bigger drawings i capped it off with a good ol favorite of mine; erifef. why did i like them? man idek anymore but it worked really well with the idea of eridan being the sicker one, but being ok such thin ice over his constant whining that he just has to go along with it we just though it was funny hehe. it can be viewed through any lens! snippy or non, s’all good here! it’s all canon.

what is he was sick and he couldn’t whine 🥺 what is he was sick and he wasn’t allowed even a snivle about it 🥺 not a snort 🥺 or a sob 🥺 he’s so pathetic !!!! besides, he can’t be out paced by some fuckin kids!!!! HES A GROWN ADULT 16-18 Y/O CAMP COUNSELOR GODDAMNIT!!

MARVEL: “Feferi: ah yes your sickness you have a functioning immune system and are the most dramatic guy on planet earth (only one of those statements is true)” which statement? :) yeah

she doesn’t believe him anymore <333

Ok and that is it for full line art doodles, but!!! i couldn’t resist drawing some more pairs we pondered

ERIDAN AND KARKAT: omfg so good!! but they would 100% either both be tooooo sick and dead, or they would both be mostly fine

VRISKA AND TAVROS: no. and you know why we’re not doing this one :,( we all instantly knew this one would be here but we are choosing to ignore it im favor of…

TAVROS AND KARKAT: Marvel proposed it and it was very interesting!! i think similar to eridan and karkat, where they’re both dead or both barely sick. no i’m between. aggressive yet positive motivation (?) for the win!!! they further proposed that karkat “eats dirt for a living and doesn’t get sick very often”

Overall this was really fun to put together and answer, and i had a blast getting to colab with a mutual along the way :3 so thank you anon and thank you marvel!! this does bring me to something i’ve been meaning to say,,.,,,

@marv3l-drag0ns ,,? we’ve been friends forever, you know my dogs middle name, we complete each other in a way no one else can! you stop me from eating bones i find on the road, and i stop you from ascending to godtier to avoid going to exams…,…

would you be my

Moirail? <>

anyways! that’s all for now <3 this was so fun :) please send in more asks/ requests like this if you ever think of any more! i definitely feel for the camp counselor piece cause that was me earlier this summer PFF and all the counselors got sick and passed something around (but hey! it was an excuse to sit away from 7 y/olds for a few minutes while i got tea for my sore throat)

[krowfics]

A Little Bored (Drabble)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: prinxiety

Plot: Roman was bored. Except he had Virgil on his lap so he wasn't that bored

Words: 521

Notes: Randomly selected characters and randomly generated prompt from here - the prompts was: Person B showing Person A some of their favorite viral videos/memes.

i did not proofread as much as normal but its fine i think probably

AO3

~~~

Roman was maybe a little bored. Not that he'd ever admit it, not if it meant he'd risk losing the warm pressure of Virgil against him. His legs were swung over Roman's and his back was partially pressed to Roman's shoulder and chest. Roman's arms were wrapped around him, one around his back with a hand landing on his hip and the other across his thighs to hold him securely in place. Virgil's hands rested on his own lap, making the phone he was holding lean on Roman's arm, but tilted in a way so both of them could see him scrolling through tumblr. But as much as he appreciated a good cuddle, it didn't change the fact that he was kind of bored.

It had started with Roman wanting to whisk Virgil away, to an adventure, to a picnic, to a stroll through the imagination, anything. And Virgil had softly, nervously responded, with his shoulders tense and his eyes glued to the floor, that he didn't think he could handle doing much more than just sitting down right now. 

So sit, they did.

Roman wasn't disappointed, exactly, though sitting still had never really been his forte. He really would rather spend time with Virgil than not, even if that did mean sitting on the couch and getting showed Virgil's favorite memes and textposts he'd reblogged rather than something more exciting like slaying dragons or at least watching the sunset on a picturesque picnic blanket with a buffet's worth of fine dining.

And the tumblr posts were mildly entertaining for a while, until Virgil eventually turned away from his own reblogs and simply went off his dashboard, which was far more hit or miss on the comedy side of things. It seemed like multiple people he was following had doomscrolled in various fandom tags and now Virgil spent most of his time constantly scrolling until he found a post he decided was worth reading.

And well, Roman had stopped paying attention a while ago, and was feeling a mild buzz of antsiness. If he had wanted to get up and do something else on his own, Virgil would let him with little complaint, he knew. But Roman really didn't want to move, even if his only entertainment was the soft warmth and pressure of his darling Stormcloud in his arms.

He glanced down at Virgil's hands, his thumb's movement paused, apparently having found a post worth reading. A few moments passed and... Virgil probably would be done reading now, scrolling along to the next post within a second. But he didn't.

Roman tilted slightly, careful to not jostle the other side, so he could get a better look at his face. He found it perfectly calm and relaxed, his eyes shut gently and mouth barely parted, breathing even breaths. When Roman wasn't paying attention, he had fallen asleep, practically curled up like a cat against roman and very firmly assigning him to pillow duty.

Roman wouldn’t be moving for a while, he realized, but he couldn't find it in himself to mind. Maybe he wasn't that bored in the first place.

~~~

a/n im forcing myself to write drabbles even though i dont super like writing them in hopes to get over writers block also hi guys its been so long

@flowercrownsandtrauma hi taglist buddy its been sooo loong im sorry, i would completely understand if you'd wanna be removed, ik fandoms change and stuff its been like a year lol

[diodellet]

unremarkable (belphegor x gn!reader)

i think im Going Through It. i wanted to write messy makeouts and heavy petting in your boyfie's lap but jokes on me🥴🥴theyre not even tgt and theyre not even sitting down. please make sure to read the content warnings before continuing. content warnings: -reader is gender-neutral but described as flat-chested (no mention of any genitalia) -self-image issues and self-hatred (in both the reader's dialogue and internal thoughts) -mild degradation (from belphie) -dubcon (reader says stop multiple times but belphie doesn't immediately stop) -codependency (whatever relationship is being shown here may be tender, but its not healthy) ++ gratuitous foreplay, frottage, crying, reader as an unreliable narrator, 0.5 seconds of belphegor's gentle side. mildly unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. word count: 3.3k words minors do not interact

"You seem like you're doing well."

"Jesus!" You jump at the sound of Belphegor's voice, almost knocking the back of your head against the cabinet door.

"Wrong name."

Somewhere from the mess of blankets, pillows, and the comforter on your bed, the seventh-born's voice brings you out of your quiet daze. He sits up, clutching his favorite pillow to his chest.

You plaster a scowl on your face. "Why are you in my bed?"

"It's comfier than that thing you call a sofa. Why wouldn't I be in a bed?" He doesn't seem well-rested either.  His hair was messy and unkempt, the startings of dark circles lined the underside of his eyes. Nice to know that you weren’t the only one who’s been having a shit time.

"No! I mean, why not be in your bed, with the rest of—actually, forget that. Nevermind.” Your hands pull the hem of the fresh t-shirt over your head, straighten out the edges and sleeves before shutting the cabinet closed.

More importantly, for how long has he been there? You’re sure you don’t recall hearing the door creak open or the rattle of the window’s screen. But when a demon invites themself over to your actual living space, they could choose not to arrive in a flash of brimstone and sulfur. They didn’t need the flourish of summoning sigils, nor the light of the moon in a specific alignment with the planets. If you cast a shadow or owned a mirror—simple things like that, then it was already enough of an invitation to let them in.

And for Belphegor, finding his way to your home was as simple as slipping into a dream. Or so he said.

“Oh? Do you want to hear about how the rest of us are doing at the House of Lamentation? We’re doing just fine, thanks for asking by the way.”

It’s not his words that make you flinch. It’s the accusatory tone underneath his words that cuts into you, the ‘without you’ that goes unsaid.

“I said nevermind,” you grumble. It’s been a while since you’ve been in the presence of an otherworldly being, your nerves buzz with the need to stand up and move around, or at least to clean the mess that was starting to accumulate in your room.

Or maybe the unease stems from the plain fact that it’s been a while since you’ve had someone in your company. And it had to be Belphegor, who liked inserting himself into whatever you were doing. Especially when you wanted some peace and quiet, especially when you wanted to be alone.

(Why did it feel…nice to suddenly see a familiar face?)

“Did you just come by to give me shit or did Lucifer ask you to pass a message?” Your irritation builds when you can't twist an old plastic wrapper into a neat knot. Couldn’t steady your hands to pass the end through the knot, instead throwing it in the direction of the wastebin and missing. Ugh. You go to pick up the other scattered trash instead.

“He wasn’t happy when he found out you got rid of your D.D.D.” Belphegor stands up, throwing the wrapper you discarded and bringing the wastebin to you. “What’ll you do if he visits?”

“There’s no way he would.” Lucifer’s loyalty was always to his family. You were just an outsider. You take the wastebin from Belphegor, brushing past him to continue picking up litter on the other side of your bed. The old receipts that started yellowing and the plastic pouches that your online shopping orders arrived in and everything in between.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” You hate the way Belphegor says your name, laced with slow sarcastic condescension.

Instead you swallow down the heat of annoyance building in your throat. Let it build and build and pinch at your brow. “What do you mean?”

“I might’ve overheard him talking to Mammon. And to Lord Diavolo.” He only meets your gaze with a shrug, rests his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Just saying.”

It doesn’t take long for you to piece together the barebones message. The fact that he was here without securing much permission meant that he was expected to bring you back.

Just saying, my ass. In the end, you didn’t have a choice.

You set the wastebin just outside of your bedroom, end up setting it down with too much force. “...How long did they give you?” Bite your inner cheek, control yourself, keep your voice even.

“Dunno.” Belphegor sighs, blowing away the tuft of hair falling over his eye. “I already left when they said I could go.”

“Why.” Your voice pitches high, a note just short of hysteric. “Do you—are you hoping to get locked up again? Why did you come here, Belphegor?”

“...Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?”

Then what was that earlier part of the conversation about? Was he just stringing you along? To see your reaction? The building anger inside of you skids to a stop.

Your voice turns icy. “You and I both know that no one in their right mind would waste the time to look at me.” 

“What are you saying?” The expression on Belphegor’s face mirrors your own. Why were you saying this all of a sudden? Was it because you have been carrying these unwelcome thoughts throughout your time alone? No, it was simply because—

“Because it’s true.”

You were no longer the remarkable exchange student.

“You’re putting words in my mouth.” Belphegor says your name sharply, making you flinch.

In the moment, you just wanted to make a point. You wanted to be right for once, so your damn brain would stop buzzing. With echoes of your worst insecurities. With too much pent-up energy morphing into excitement. But no matter how much you chastised yourself for it, you were being dragged along by those feelings.

You lift your shirt up, giving Belphegor an unobstructed view of your bare torso. No more pact marks, no more blemishes from the little accidents during your stay. 

“There’s nothing remarkable about this.” Not anymore. 

At this point your mind catches up with your words and actions.

Cheeks heating up from embarrassment, you inject a mix of nonchalance and slight annoyance into your voice. Furrow your brows and play off the shame you felt towards yourself your body as irritation. "There, see. Nothing of note." 

Utterly human. Plain, nondescript, unremarkable.

You're not prepared for the warmth of his hands settling at the base of your ribcage. Rough thumbs tracing the shallow curve of your chest, just shy of making contact with your nipples. The touch to your skin alone sends a shiver through your frame.

"I don't think there's nothing of note here though." And he has the audacity to mimic the deriding cadence you used for the word.

You let go of your shirt’s hem, let it fall down to obscure his hands which stubbornly remain in place. (Never mind the fact that the sight—one palm large enough to engulf one half of your chest—stirs an all too familiar heat in your lower stomach.)

On second thought, maybe you weren’t able to play it off as easily as you thought.

“That’s because you suddenly touched me.” You muster a disinterested expression and meet his eyes. “Mind letting off?”

"Oh, really?” The way Belphegor draws out your name sends you further along your arousal, making you gloss over the fact that he ignored your request. The subtle change in his expression—an upwards quirk of his lips, his eyes narrowing and appraising you—makes you take a step backwards.

Now your back’s against the wall. How were you just making one mistake after another? Maybe your body’s impulses were taking the lead now and dragging your unwilling consciousness along for the ride. Leaving you as a helpless recipient to the stimulation.

“How about you let me touch you a bit more then I’ll back off?”

Fuck no. The answer should be easy, but then again, this was you. 

Lonely and isolated, starved of touch, craving to be desired. And when you were being propositioned by the only “person” who seemed willing to put up with you, well.

You tentatively wet your lips. The pressure settling on your chest doesn't let up (and it’s sending your brain into a fog). Belphegor's hands are lightly stroking up and down your sides. It’s as if the heat radiating from his skin was consuming you. You want to run away from it, but at the same time, the simple gesture was almost enough to make your knees buckle.

You tsk, “fine. Do what you want.” 

You fight to keep your expression neutral as Belphegor leans closer to you. Fight against the twisted sense of satisfaction seeing him pleased by your reluctant obedience.

You don’t expect his expression to morph into a small pout. “Don’t give me that look. It’ll feel good for you in the end, won’t it?” One of his palms gives your chest a light squeeze.

Your lips press together in a thin line as you consider your next words. “Do your worst then.”

And maybe it’d feel good for a bit, even if it’ll hurt once the wave of pleasure has run its course because Belphegor liked touching you as your nerves screamed for relief. And then you’ll hate yourself afterwards. You’ll spend the night curled up in bed hating yourself for feeling good and only feeling good for that brief moment.

(The aftermath was always the worst part. With clarity filling your mind and vision, making you hate the remnants of your arousal. With exhaustion settling into your nerves but never letting you slip into unconsciousness.)

Belphegor’s features darken, irritation swirling in his violet irises. There, that was a more familiar sight. One that suited his character more. Behind the sleepy and affectionate demeanor as the youngest lay a demon who was just as crafty and manipulative as—scratch that, maybe more than—the other high-ranking officials of the Devildom.

Yet at the same time, he was the youngest. You can’t help yourself from wanting to annoy him a little bit.

The satisfaction is short-lived however. Belphegor pinches the nubs in between the tips of his fingers, teasing them erect. A choked gasp falls from your lips, your eyes squeeze shut and the back of your head lightly knocks against the wall.

“Ha, please. I don’t even have to do much of anything,” he remarks in a low voice. Something along the lines of amusement colors his tone. “You’ll rub yourself against me at the slightest. Touch.” He gives a harsh tug to emphasize those two words, tearing a pained whimper from you.

“Well that’s because a demon like you could yank ’em off if you weren’t careful—” Your retort dies in your throat as he thumbs over the tips of your nipples. An agonizingly slow but pleasurable back-and-forth stimulus that makes your frame relax. As if you were some nervous thing to be tamed.

“What was that? Hm?” This fucking asshole.

You can’t muster a reply, too focused instead on keeping your mouth clamped shut. On keeping yourself still and trying not to arch into the traitorous heat of Belphegor’s palms.

“That’s what I thought.” And you can hear the deriding smirk forming on his lips. “You’ll just take anything I give because you’ll like it.”

It’s those words that send you further down your body’s sensations. Annoyance, humiliation, arousal—in spite of your pride, no that was wrong, in spite of your disgust towards yourself—all mix together into this ugly heat that makes your thighs press together, makes your core throb with need and desire and you want.

More.

You’re not prepared for the feeling of his tongue against your chest. Not prepared for the feeling of his lips sealing around your nipple and sucking gently.

“Hnnh…” Your knees tremble from the exertion of holding yourself up.

That doesn’t stop him from palming at the other unattended bud, rolling it between the fingers of his free hand. The light scrape of his nails against your skin, the way his thumb grazes against your areola while tracing the underside of your chest pulls a shaky sigh from you.

Belphegor continues to press into your space. He releases the nipple with a pop, leaving it red and shiny with spit. And when he toys with the damp numb using his fingers, a soft moan leaves your lips. “F-fuck…nnh…” Your fingers twitch, almost reflexively reaching for him.

“Don’t tell me you’re feeling it just from this.” He turns his attention to your other nipple, laving it with the flat of his tongue and a generous amount of saliva. 

“...It’s—hah—just…been a while…” you grit out. “I—”

“Whatever you say,” Belphegor drawls before suckling at the bud. Gently mouthing at it before nipping lightly with his teeth.

When the pleasure starts tipping into overstimulation, your resolve and facade crack. Your hands clench into fists, feebly attempting to ground yourself. Little moans of pain escape from you with each graze of Belphegor’s fingers against the nubs. With each swipe of his tongue against the small, unremarkable, but worst of all, sensitive buds betraying your body—betraying the fact that, if you were in better circumstances, you would have completely enjoyed this.

Your reprieve arrives the moment it becomes unbearable. Belphegor’s digits withdraw to settle just above the waistband of your shorts, stretching out the elastic and revealing the skin of your hips.

“Heh, you seemed to enjoy that.” One of his hands grips your chin and pulls your gaze downwards to look at the mix of sweat and arousal staining your underwear. “Look at the mess you made.” You don’t have anything for a rebuttal. You can only stare with burning cheeks. Stare at your skin and his other hand dipping into your shorts. And you notice how close he was standing to you, a scant few inches in between your hips and his. And—god why was the slightest touch ghosting down your navel, the slick sounds of his fingers stroking you—sending your nerves into a frenzy?!

"Hnn…fuck—” A weak keening sound leaves your throat. “Wait…I don’t wanna cum,” you protest, the sounds coming from you drowned out whatever words Belphegor was saying, your face feels too hot. “Stop, stop…" 

His pace quickens, you start meeting the movement of his wrist. His fingers curl into a tight fist. You might come like this. You just might come undone completely. And you don't want that. Your breathing hitches. "Belphie, stop!”

He stills, gazing at you with an unreadable expression. Slowly releases you—clear, viscous strings of your arousal cling to his digits. The motion elicits a disgusted full-body shiver from your frame.

You hate yourself. God, you hate yourself so much.

You belatedly register the tears sliding down your cheeks. A sob nearly escapes before you clench your jaw shut. Your hands furiously wipe at your eyes and cheeks but the tears. Just wouldn't. Stop.

“...you’re…” he speaks up, voice soft. Almost hesitant to complete that thought. Crying? Yes. Unsightly? Yes.

“Of fucking course I am, asshole! You weren’t—” Ah, but he wasn’t under a pact anymore, why would he listen to you? “You just kept—” And whose hips were rutting to meet each slow, deliberate thrust of his fingers? You had nothing to say that was worth listening to. 

(You’re not sure if you’re shaking because you started crying, or if your body was still anticipating, teetering at the edge of a climax.)

"I'm sorry I—god, I hate myself."  If you were going to burn up, you wanted every part of yourself to be consumed without leaving a single trace. You hate the complete, utter silence of the room. You’d rather take Belphegor’s rough treatment and his cutting words. Take any kind of pain over this, over the burning in the corners of your eyes.

Belphegor's clean hand comes up to cup your cheek. "Close your eyes," he murmurs as he leans in. You only get a brief glimpse of his expression—soft and torn—before you obey and feel the press of his lips against your own. Slightly chapped but nonetheless gentle against the salt and shame that stain your cheeks.

He doesn't completely pull away when the kiss ends. His breath fans against your lips, warm. "Don't say that."

"...but it's true,” you counter. Though the thickness in your voice does little to emphasize the bite of your words.

Belphegor frowns.

You especially hate the expression he is wearing on his face, that small unreadable frown. Or rather, you hate that you can't parse the specific emotion behind it. Can't tell if he was disgusted or just, outright bored with you because of your outburst. "I'm sorry," you repeat. How badly your body wanted to lean into the touch of his palms. Let the guilt pour soundlessly with your demeanor, and hope it would suffice for an apology.

(A part of you desperately hopes his silence is from the part of him that understands. That being spun empty words of comfort was more painful.)

Strange, isn’t it? Your tears have stopped flowing after a few beats of silence have passed. The worst of the emotions have run their course, yet in their wake, you only feel empty. Still resentful towards yourself.

"...there, you had your little touch. Will—" A hiccup escapes you. You don't like the weight of Belphegor's gaze on you. Your head turns away, shoulders curve inwards, arms rise to discreetly cover your chest."—will you let me go now? O-or are you going to…" Use me?

No matter how much his outward apathy colored his interactions, Belphegor was a curious being. And to stand in front of him unsightly as you are, to have him discard the blotchiness of your face and the little hiccups shaking your frame…

To have him regard you as the sole recipient of his curiosity, well.

It stirs an inkling of…something warm inside you despite your warring thoughts.

“...I don’t think I’ll let go of you just yet.” His knee slots itself between your legs. “Didn’t I tell you that it’d feel good for you in the end?”

“I don’t care about that anymore, it won’t even feel good for you…!” The heat in your voice dissipates with each nudge against your neglected arousal.

Belphegor shushes you, hands coming back up to touch your chest, thumbs stroking your neglected nipples. Just start feeling good already. Combined with the slow deliberate grind of his knee against your core (or were you the one desperately rutting against his leg?), the sensations are enough to pull a shaky whine from your lips.

“Belphie, it f-feels weird…”

“Hurts?"

You're past the point of distinguishing pain from pleasure. You just feel.

"Does it hurt?" He repeats his question, hands slowing.

You shake your head, fisting your hands into his shirt. “N-no…” It’s a feeble attempt to pull him closer to you.

You’re sure you’re making a mess of his pants with each sloppy cant of your hips. Even the guilt mere thought of that sends more warmth rushing through you. Building and building until you’re cumming with a choked cry. A fresh wave of tears spills down your cheeks.

With the strength sapped from your legs, Belphegor’s the only thing holding you up. Keeping you grounded.

Through the haze of your vision, you’re not sure what expression he’s wearing. “Can you give me one more?”

“...I…don’t know if I can…”

In the end though, you’ll give in to his demands. You’ll give in because your lonely self wanted something good—no matter how small or shallow it would be in hindsight.

You just hope that he would still be there with you when you were hating yourself for it.

A/N: yeah i think i just have one or two more drafts to work at.... and then... intense planning for my next major uploads (wcidfy ch 3 included).... unless my brain swerves and starts writing alt scenes/essayifying my current uploads.

[dynamic-k]

Are you tired of this yet? I feel like I keep asking questions about Vic, but it's because I already know that information for the other characters... Vague Vic.

Anyways, I think you said in a comment that Vic has trauma from Primal stabbing him in the back (that was obvious but im still gonna say it). How does he deal with this? Does he have nightmares? Does Dune or the guards suspect anything?

Does anyone else, like Primal, Agent, Hazard, Ballista, RGBY, Purple etc. also have trauma? If so, how do they deal with it, and do they also have nightmares?

I think somewhere in Arc 2, when Chosen, Second and Dark meet Primal and Ballista, Primal says she was going to visit Vic. How did this go?

Have a nice day (it HAS been over 24 hrs)

-R

See this is why people should send me more asks. I'm going to spoil or spill things. XD Sometimes I cannot keep my mouth shut about my own creations.

Vague Vic indeed! I laughed a little too hard at that- <3

:D Vic can have trauma. As a treat. Cause why not- /silly

[ I'll include a little snippet for Arc Two at the end of this ask, in relation to Vic's trauma and a Primal visitation. ]

Vic does indeed have nightmares, I will say that much. But I shouldn't try and explain this too in-depth, as I will be elaborating on the super fine specifics of Vic's nightmares and how Dune would react to it and such, in the storyline and in the plot itself when it comes to that point in time.

Dune will have some involvement, yes. The guards too, some of them, but to a lesser degree. [in only one or two different scenes.] Dune, on the other hand, has multiple encounters with Vic in which the grey hollowhead is much closer to a breakdown than he would otherwise be.

:) Ah, Purple. Ehehe. EHEHEHHEHE. I shouldn't say too much about that. Let's just say, Purple's lore is a little all over the place, and even I am still trying to sift it out into chronological order. Anything I could say that comes to mind right now is a huge spoiler so, I can't say too much aside from I can't say too much.

Primal is actually trauma-free for the most part, and by that I mean, she obviously regrets nearly killing Vic, and it sticks [*cough!*] with her for a long time... but the most actual reaction she endured was nearly puking just afterward of the Stabby Scene, which was covered already in Arc One's climax.

Hm. Yeah.

Definitely trauma-free. [compared to the others, ehehe]

Agent doesn't have nightmares, neither does Hazard, and both are generally content and happy with their current positions.

Agent is running Rocket, finding out he's really good at it. Hazard is assisting trainees for the Rocket Hero program, and occasionally helping out of the field where the public eye is abundant.

But Agent doesn't like to remember the day he got his life-altering injury. It's not a day he remembers as a day of celebrating, even if he was incredibly heroic. Hazard has been a great help, assisting Agent so he can see himself in a more positive light than he would think independently... but it can be a struggle on some bad days where everything Agent does seems to go utterly wrong. And especially now, being in an important position and having more responsibility that could be screwed up.

Not me giving Agent some occasional self-loathing issues because I want to help others work through it. U v U Also good angst.

Ballista is the one who is actually trauma-free. He just a happy lil dude. XD Worst he's got is Primal stole his snacks. He does help Primal through her mild outbursts though. The days where all she can do is rant to the air and lay her head on the table and spill every regret into the empty air where Ballista stands as comfortingly as he can.

See, now- The Color Gang's trauma-

...I should not be talking about Arc Three so early into Arc Two-

I have plans. Wait and see. >:3

-

"I think somewhere in Arc 2, when Chosen, Second and Dark meet Primal and Ballista, Primal says she was going to visit Vic. How did this go?"

She did indeed say this, but it has not happened yet. It's plot heavy enough that I shouldn't say too much, since I'll be covering it as an event in the storyline, once I get that far in.

You have a nice day tooo!!! :DDD You've made me so happy with these asks, I am having an absolute blast answering them!! hehe

And now for the small snippet:

It's a very minor sneak peak [spoiler?] of a scene I am still writing.

-

“Vic.”

Vic's head jerked instantly behind him and he met her eyes with a speed that rivaled her quickening heartbeat at the anxiousness of what she planned to do.

“Primal,” Vic breathed out slowly, his shoulders relaxing greatly and his features smoothing out into a calm and more peaceful outward appearance. 

Primal did notice his eyes still held just the faintest traces of wariness, but she didn't bring attention to it. 

She had stabbed him, after all. It made sense Vic couldn't seem to help automatically being aware and alert as a result. 

-

-

See~? Trauma! :D /smile-of-insanity

[underratedandoverit]

Some Nights I Dream Of You (And I Regret It)

~1,4k words orangekip (orange cassidy/kip sabian)

set in immortal fears/the belt corruption au. so uh. this started as what i wanted to call "soulmates as horror", but i dont think if thats in the end an accurate thing to describe this with, so im going to use that at some point later. but definitely in the same spirit as this cause. yeah

warnings; mentions of bodily harm, implied body horror, angst, nightmares, unreality. nothing is super explicit and things are much more just implied than actually shown or anything, apart from the final one so a slight warning for purposefully breaking someones finger. other than thats its very much just between the lines, but if the idea of body parts being potentially removed or such bothers you, even as an obscured idea, this probably isnt a very nice read

kip is also jealous and possessive, just generally an asshole dont worry about it

@midnightpretenders0 @stormbornpirate

on ao3

---------------------------

“Oh, Clementine…”

The sing songy voice reaching his ears, it was almost as if Cassidy snapped out of some sort of a trance, maybe even sleep. His head bounced up, senses sharpened, eyes opened.

Except that he didn’t see anything. Everything was dark, wherever he looked was nothing but pitch black. He couldn’t even see shadows moving around him, it was nothing but darkness.

But Cassidy was so sure he had opened his eyes. He could feel himself blinking. There was nothing on his face, nothing obscuring his vision. And yet.

He couldn’t see anything.

“Clementine.”

The voice was a hot whisper against his ear, making him shiver. Except nothing moved. Cassidy could feel his body reacting to the voice, the sound, the mockingly charming nickname he had gotten so used to. He knew it belonged to him, he recognized the lips that single word fell from. Almost too intimately so.

He just couldn’t make a single move to respond to it, despite not feeling any restrictions on his body. He couldn’t turn his head away from it, not come face to face with it. A hand didn’t move to reach closer, no feet would take him away. Just…

Nothing.

“What’s the matter?”

Cassidy didn’t respond. It wasn’t a matter of not having anything to say, he just simply couldn’t. He tried opening his mouth, but just like every other action, it seemed futile. No matter how much he willed himself to do so, his lips stayed sealed, as if controlled by some power outside of his own. He couldn’t make a single noise, no protest, not even to agree to whatever he was saying, deny that anything was wrong.

Something was wrong, and Cassidy couldn’t tell him.

“Are you… Having some difficulties?”

The mild British accent was slowly driving him up the wall. Cassidy could visualize it in his mind, Kip watching him struggling, a smirk tucking in the corner of his mouth. The look Cassidy hated. Despised. Kip just enjoying seeing him not being able to hold the situation together, failing to answer to him, to respond to his taunts.

He knew Kip was enjoying every second of this, whatever it was that he was struggling with, and savoring the sight.

“Oh,” he heard Kip sigh, feeling a soft gust of cold air brushing against what Cassidy assumed to be an exposed skin, feeling like alongside the back of his neck. “The little darling is struggling. How tragic.”

Cassidy wanted to answer him, so badly, but he simply couldn’t. Words couldn’t leave his mouth, even if they were yelling at maximum volume inside his head. He wanted to call Kip a coward, to stop doing whatever this was, to let him go. Cassidy might have not been sure in the moment what exactly was going on, but with each passing second, soft, teasing little touches against his skin, Kip’s clearly satisfied tone, it was more and more obvious that he was behind it, whatever it was.

“That is fine,” Kip finally stated, Cassidy feeling a hand brushing through his hair. The way it carded through his coils was clearly mocking, making him want to break through his state even more, to tell him to stop, that it was becoming too much. “I like you better when you don’t fight back anyway.”

The hand moved from his hair to the back of his neck, the fingertips slowly trailing past the side of the neck, just underneath the ear to his jaw. The way they moved so slowly and felt like they flicked every single hair of his beard was agonizing.

“You don’t have to fight anymore.” Cassidy could have sworn he heard the smile on Kip’s voice, despite not seeing it, despite being surrounded with nothing but darkness. His fingers stopped at Cassidy’s chin, giving it a few soft taps before brushing over his lips. “You are free now. To just be mine. And mine alone.”

The hand suddenly left his face, leaving Cassidy alone with just the lack of his own senses again. He felt an almost frantic need to get that touch back, no matter how much he also hated it. Kip was playing with him, playing with his prey, but there was something so comforting in it at the same time. A familiarity that was a welcomed taste in the darkness Cassidy was currently floating in, without anything he could do about it on his own.

He tried to fight it. Blinking his eyes, not recovering his vision. Trying to tell Kip to stop, not having a mouth to open or voice to speak out loud the words that were so loud in his head. No hand to reach for him, to beg him to come back, to give Cassidy something coherent and tangible to hold onto.

Nothing. He had nothing. He could do nothing.

He was completely at Kip’s mercy.

“Although I’m… I am sorry, Clementine.”

Cassidy felt a shiver running down his spine, followed by a hand landing on what he assumed to be his. The touch was burning hot against his skin, what he presumed to be his skin at least. It felt comforting, but still distant, as if he was experiencing it secondhand somehow. An out of body experience.

“I admit I may have overdone this a bit.”

The fingers tapped against the back of his hand a little bit, every tap feeling like it had enough force behind it to shatter his bones to pieces. Cassidy wanted to scream, let out the pain, but once again, nothing. He couldn’t do anything, just bear the feeling of Kip’s fingers slowly lacing with his, giving his hand a little squeeze.

“I just didn’t like the way you looked at anyone else. I had to do something before you would… Change your mind.”

Cassidy blinked. Or he would have, if it would have been possible.

“I couldn’t let you do that. To change your mind. About this.”

The second squeeze on his hand was much stronger, and after Kip locked it in he didn’t let go.

“About us.”

His voice lowered with the words, matching the grip he had on Cassidy’s hand. The pain shot through him, but once again nothing moved. He couldn’t react to it, couldn’t resist it, all Cassidy could do was let Kip lead this dance, and follow helplessly along while Kip did seemingly whatever it was that he wanted to do in the moment.

“I might have to do something about you feeling others too.” It was almost as if Kip was pondering his words out loud, rather than giving out a statement he might have wanted Cassidy’s opinion on too. He moved the hand in his, observing what Cassidy felt like was a pile of broken bones at this point, even though it wasn’t possible that Kip simply holding his hand was going to cause that kind of damage to him. But it sure felt like it. “Your hands are… So beautiful. I don’t want anyone else holding them but me.”

Kip’s other hand joined in grabbing his hand, fingertips trailing along the back of his fingers. Without warning he grabbed a hold of the ring finger, bending it as far backwards as he possibly could, letting it audibly snap.

Cassidy winced. He could finally let out a scream, pull his hand away.

He heard Kip cackling at him as he stumbled backwards, tripping on something, getting swallowed by the darkness again.

-----------------

Cassidy’s head snapped up from the pillow, forcing him to sit up, taking in a sharp breath. It took him a moment to stop his heart from racing, to focus back in the real world, into the dark bedroom at the late hours of the night. He closed his eyes, quickly opening them again, making sure that he was awake and being able to see this time.

Everything felt real again, helping Cassidy ease his breathing as he wiped a hand over his face and through his hair as he confirmed all of that had just been another nightmare.

Feeling the bed shifting by his side a little, his eyes shot towards it, watching as Kip just rolled from one side to another, still fast asleep. Cassidy inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself down. It was just a dream. Another one of the never ending nightmares.

As real as it felt, he knew that Kip didn’t want anything bad to him. Not anymore, at least.

[snaxle]

they also suicide baited my cat which was so...

How do you even do that?

ok so as many people remember i use to be a big dream fan a few years ago. well at a Certain Point that shall not be explained, i decided hey i fucking hate this guy now and proceeded to unfollow people and etc. well, as you can imagine, many of my former mutuals and followers were Also dream fans who we're very unhappy with the fact that i was not supporting him anymore and publicly bashing him now.

around this time, both my cats were very sick and i often posted about how worried i was about their health. also, semi unrelated, but a few weeks before this my one cat escaped my house for a day and i was extremely scared she had been killed by some wild animals in my area, which i also posted about. i did wind up finding her completely fine soon.

well after this big fallout, i posted something about how dream looks like shane dawson or whatever a few months later all that happened and these people saw it and we're fucking PISSED. had people screenshotting all my posts, my url uncensored and everything, and absolutely twisted my words to make it seem like i was saying some pretty messed up shit. i didnt even know this was going on until i got an anonymous ask that told me dream fans we're beating my ass, and then people proceeded to send me what people were sending. it was whatever lol

but anyways, at one point, one of these people then proceeded to send me an ask after i once again posted about how i was really worried about my cats and they finally had a vet appointment coming up, and they told me they hoped my cat died. which is pretty fucked btw, but anyways i had to shut off my asks after that for a few days and kinda had a mild breakdown because of it but after awhile i just stopped acknowledging all them bc whatever.

well, maybe a week later i got another person sending me a screenshot of someone's post in which they said some shit like "remember when sn*xle got an ask telling them they hope their cat died and they freaked out about it? did they think their cat would see the ask and slit their kitty wrists lol" and then had other people also posted about how they hope my cat killed themself so I'd get upset

this then escalated to people posting about how they want me to kill myself, one of which was someone i was pretty close mutuals with who at one point literally comforted me as i had a panic attack over my cat being missing that one time LOL.

eventually im pretty sure they stopped after i went on a massive blocking spree and blocked like 4k people from the fandom, or at least people stopped reporting to me to tell me every little thing these people were saying about me, my cats went to the vet and got fixed up and i lived happily ever after 🙂 but anyways thats the story of how my cat and i were suicide baited by angry dream stans all because i decided i didnt wanna support an ugly shitty white guy anymore. theres actually more context to the story than all this but maybe thats a story for another day LOL

[diddybok]

OOOOH ok interesting - first and foremost, guy best friend is a FLOP for being so lazy with your friendship, because you were initially interested in letting things get interesting, but now that HE'S trying to do that ON TOP of historically being flaky with the friendship? like no heaven forbid he goes out of his way during the day but oh at night when he's feeling it you have to? LIKE MATE BE FOR REAL AND be respectful?? it really seems like he likes you right now - did he seem disappointed after you kissed the friend?

if you're over him and his flakiness, then by all means drop him, you deserve infinitely better than waiting for him to want to see you - you deserve someone, a best friend, bf, something else or both, who would love to see you any time of the day and is ACTIVE in seeking you out 💕 i've been through a similar-ish situation with a flaky guy friend showing some level of interest, and a stalker girl mutual friend who seemingly encouraged him and i, but goes off to have a whole ordeal with him after mild things happened between the guy and i, when he apparently was "in love" with her the whole time? that's irrelevant 😭

my point is, i have tried to stay neutral with him the whole time, even though i knew him longer. it would be nice if none of this happened and we could still talk normally, but i'm not interested in trying to fix it, so being neutral is the way to go, rather than dropping him completely, to save the awkwardness. if you were to be neutral with him then you could potentially keep his door open if something were to happen in the future, which might be useful?? but it seems like you're pretty interested in mr uni pookie 😏😏😏😏😏😏 I SHIP IT

all the best with the two of these guys, and i guess just have fun with it?? enjoy the ride 🤪 always here if you want to chat or vent, or spill more tea 😊

omg this is like girl/chix talk time and i want to make it a regular occurrence where we all just talk abt shit happening in our lives atm! obvs not forcing anyone to!

okay imma start by saying REAL!!! i think in this case i would just put a hard line of it being strictly platonic. i already started to distance myself from him and i think he kinda caught on yesterday when i wasn’t entertaining it like i would have in the past.

but yeah all feelings for him are, and i can confidently say, gone🧌 but yeah no the other guy is so cute i wanna squish his cheeks😣

BUT WOAH??? youRE tea?!?! stalker girl and your friend😲 that’s acc kinda crazy. oh my god that would make me feel so, just, my eye would be TWITCHIN! the audacity. i strongly dislike girls like that, boys is a given because they do it to themselves by being themselves,, but the girls that try to set it up KNOWING behind your back they’re pulling a madness?

yeah you’re done for mate.

i woulda instantly removed myself from both of them. probably the guy too because wdym you were in love with her but talking like that with me? how are you to act then if we got into a relationship. next thing you know you get the “hey girly i know you don’t know me but-”😭😭

but i’m not getting my hopes up for uni boy, rather im already preparing for it all to be a purely just friends situation which 😀 is fine because he’s a good mate, so i guess it’d be a win win if it goes either way! but again no getting my hopes up. because i’ve learnt my lesson too many times whilst ignoring the facts and ended up getting all upset when i grew to attached😪

anyways that was fun, thank you for fuelling this little talk time with me!

[newwwwusername]

Spider-Man (2017 Cartoon) - Flash/Peter - Cleft Awareness Month Prompt 21 : Words

Prompt : Write a fic exploring a character's (this character has a cleft lip and/or palate) thoughts, feelings, etc. on terms considered to be outdated or offensive regarding their cleft. Headcanons : Peter has a cleft lip, Dyslexic!Flash, Autistic!Peter (if you squint) Author's note : Please don't use this fic as a guide for this sort of thing. As a person with a cleft, most of what I have Peter say aligns with my own opinions (though I don't really mind any of the words), but it varies largely for each person so if you have a friend or know someone with a cleft and you're wondering about what words are better to use, just ask them

Flash was trying to improve himself, be a better man.

He supposed that started with Peter.

It wasn't that he'd ever been horrible to the smaller guy. Sure, he'd push him around a bit and call him unsavory names when his jock friends were around, but he'd always had a good heart in there, and his support of Spider-Man (though he didn't know that Peter was Spider-Man) definitely helped Peter see him in a brighter light.

But still, he could be better.

His mind eventually wound up on the topic of Peter's upper lip. It was something he himself was always careful not to comment on, but there had been plenty of times when his jock friends would poke fun at it and he stood by idly as they did so.

That made him feel a bit sick, so he began doing some research on how best to handle that topic, so he could be as sensitive to it as possible and try and make up for his quiet enabling of the other jocks' rude behavior.

The issue was that, well, Peter's deformity, while more common than most facial differences, was still relatively rare, so it was hard to find any clear-cut answers as to what words and phrasing were considered acceptable.

Even the word deformity seemed to be of some debate. Some people didn't mind it or even used it themselves for a quick descriptor when they didn't feel like explaining what a cleft lip was. Others considered the term outdated and distasteful.

Harelip came up quite a few times in his research as well, though this one was more generally agreed upon to be offensive or, at the very least, outdated.

Other words like disfigurement, facial difference, and just cleft on its own came up and he found himself growing more and more confused.

He eventually caved and shot Peter a text.

spider_fan : yo tiny tutor

peter.parker : Hey, Flash. What's up?

spider_fan : i was locking into ur cleft lip things

spider_fan : **looking **thing

peter.parker : Okay..?

spider_fan : cuz yknow i wanna be like nife or whatver so i thought id ask what words im supposed 2 use when yalking ab it

spider_fan : **nice **whatever **talking sorry for all the typos im baf st this

spider_fan : **bad **at

Peter chuckled lightheartedly to himself as he read those few messages. He almost felt bad for laughing- He knew it wasn't really Flash's fault. He was Dyslexic, he couldn't help it.

He still found it the tiniest bit funny, though.

peter.parker : No worries in regards to the typos 👍 I can understand you just fine.

peter.parker : Circling back to the cleft thing, what words were you wondering about?

spider_fan : oh uh hold on i had em erotten down on my cpu

spider_fan : deformity. harelip. disfigurement. facial difference. cleft.

peter.parker : Oh boy. Hold on.

peter.parker : Deformity - I don't have any strong feelings on it either way. It's not very specific, but it gets the idea across fine. I don't mind it so long as it's not used in a derogatory way.

spider_fan : good 2 know

peter.parker : Harelip - I think some people find it offensive. I'm not necessarily offended by it, but I don't like it either. It's just really outdated and no one really calls it that anymore unless it's in a mean way.

peter.parker : Disfigurement - I don't *hate* it necessarily, but it just feels very extreme for how mild the scarring/misshapenness of my lip is.

peter.parker : Facial difference - I think that's the most politically correct placeholder term. I don't think I've ever used it, but it's fine.

peter.parker : And cleft - My favorite because that's what it's called, but I do understand that explaining what it means can be a bit annoying in the middle of a conversation.

spider_fan : thx tiny tutor

spider_fan : i wil keep all this in mind

peter.parker : Thank *you* for reaching out to ask about it, Flash.

peter.parker : I can see you're trying to be a better person, and I'm proud of you.

spider_fan : :)

Flash shut off his phone screen and laid it face-down on his chest, smiling to himself.

Do not repost on other sites! If you want to participate in this month's challenge, there are 31 cleft-centered prompts that you can find here

[otter-chaos-violence]

bleeding and a run

CW: blood (as per title) guns, hospital whump, being really high on morphine in said hospital, slavery mention, asassination mention, ecoli mention, mild swearing,

Tatiana

----

Several people were at my door, a girl with olive skin and a very tall redhead girl that I had to look straight up to meet the eyes of, and she carried a passed out, bleeding-in-many-places Cami in her arms. Cami was almost dwarfed in comparison to this girl. Almost. Cami was about a foot shorter.

My mother and I let them inside, then conversed for a minute in Portuguese to figure out what we’d do, when my mother recognized something about the tall one.

“Wait- are you Night- Claire Malkom’s kid?”

“How do you know her name?” the redhead asked. Her voice had lowered by about an octave.

“You’re little Magdalena? Oh my God, last time I saw you you were so little!”

“I- don’t know you,”

She backed away.

Cami’s eyes slowly blinked open, and she mumbled, “Cuz, where are we?”

“That’s Airi- Ariana’s kid?” Lara said.

Magdalena nodded.

The ambulance arrived, and Lara said, “I’ll call Ariana, okay Magdalena?”

“Okay,” she replied.

Magdalena and the other girl took Cami to the ambulance and didn’t return.

Lara took out her phone and called someone, speaking very rapidly in French. I didn’t speak French, so I didn’t get much out of it, but when she hung up, she said, “We’re going to the hospital,”

We went out to the car, and my mom drove us there, then parked and hugged a tall red-headed woman wearing a knitted sweater and sweatpants. Not ideal for August.

My mother introduced us, and Ariana smiled at me. She seemed ancient, though she looked about thirty. My mom’s age.

A man with dark hair and pale skin, holding the hand of a girl with white hair, extremely pale skin and a red and white cane in her other hand approached us and gasped, “Any update, mom?”

Ariana nodded and said, “She’s in the ICU right now, awaiting surgery,”

She hugged him and said, “Don’t you worry Jon- Xoya, she’ll make it,”

We entered the hospital, and a few hours later, Ariana was told she could go to her daughter’s room now.

We went to Cami’s room, and she lay in the bed, an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose. 

In and out, in and out.

Her wrists had IVs in it, with blood in one, some fluid in another. She had patches on her eyebrow, a bandage peeked out from under the light blue hospital gown. Her hair and the blood were the only colors in the room.

Her eyes blinked open, and I saw liquid gold for a moment, then her eyes dimmed and she went limp again, her arm angled oddly to the point it would be stiff when she woke up.

Ariana moved her arm back to a comfortable position, and she rolled to the side and mumbled, “Mommy, where am I?”

Ariana kneeled close to her and whispered, “Hospital,”

“Really? Did I get ‘im?”

“Get who?”

“Hunter,” she mumbled, “Did he finally realize he needed to leave me alone?”

“I’m sorry, Cams, no,”

She didn’t notice, and squinted up at the ceiling.

“Polaris’s really bright tonight,” she mumbled.

“Cams, we’re inside,”

“Oh, really? Cool,”

—

Cami didn’t come to school for the next week, then returned in a wheelchair. She had bandages on her leg, and she looked terrified of Mr. Simmons now. I couldn’t see why, he was strict, but he was kind and gave us an extension for her not being there.

Not being at school didn’t stop her from working.

She wheeled next to me and leaned on my shoulder, then said in her forever quiet voice, “So, how’s the project going?”

“I have a bunch of photos and info now,”

“Yay!” She sounded slightly louder here.

She hugged me and said, “So, do you think Ms. Delano will be fine with me missing a week of rehearsals and showing up in a wheelchair?”

“Yeah, she’s pretty nice about things like that,”

“Thank god, last teacher I had got mad at me when I was hospitalized with E. coli O157:H7,”

“What?”

“E. coli on steroids,”

“Yikes. My mom told me about an E. coli outbreak when she was eight that killed some of her friends,”

“Damn,”

“Yeah, my mom said there wasn’t much access to hospitals at the time,”

We went back to work and I realized, I had no idea where my mother grew up or lived before here. Just that she grew up in a communidade, or favela if said by the upper class people. The places where the descendants of former slaves ended up because the government failed to provide for them.

I texted her about it when I got out of Mr. Simmons’ class, and she said about an hour and a half later, an entire other class passing, ‘It's a complicated story, one I’ll tell you someday.’

Someday. A nice promise, although non-definitive.

After Chem was over, I went to lunch, and Moon brought her friend Marina over. We tolerated Marina, not some of Moon’s other friends who’d annoyed all of us, and certainly not Kira, who enjoyed spouting slurs and getting scolded by everyone else about it.

Even Moon barely tolerated her.

Kira decided to come over. She had dyed snow-white hair to match her white ears and tail, and at the time, she wore all dark colors, an odd contrast.

She slammed her hands in front of Cami and hissed at her, and Cami ignored her. 

“I’m talking to you,” Kira snapped.

Cami looked up with a bored expression and said, “Could’ve sworn you weren’t talking,”

Kira’s left ear twitched and her lip curled into an animalistic snarl.

“Shut up!” She snapped.

“You’ve done most of the talking,” Cami remarked.

Kira’s hair and tail bristled, and Cami looked up at her for a moment, and I saw a golden glow for a split second.

Kira opened and closed her mouth, then hissed, “How dare you?”

“How dare I what?” Cami asked, her tone just as gentle as when she started talking.

“You know what I mean!”

“I really don’t,”

Kira snarled louder and called her an awful word. 

Cami’s expression hardened, and she snapped, “You’re lucky I can’t stand right now,”

I heard rain above, even though the weather could normally be seen for miles, and there was no trace this morning. Lightning struck right outside the school, and I jumped when I saw the burning almost-white light hit a tree. Murmurs of worry echoed through the cafeteria, and at our table, all but Cami looked spooked. Cami, instead, looked exhausted and tilted to the side with the next lightning strike. She stayed upright because of the wheelchair’s seatbelt, but we weren’t sure what to do. As the storm continued, her breathing slowed, and eventually, just as quickly as it began, it ended, and she opened her eyes and gasped for breath, almost choking.

Almost, thankfully. She was fine after a moment, just- off. She didn’t know what was going on until we filled her in.

Then she wheeled away, took out her phone and texted for a moment, then returned.

The bell rang, and I tried to ask her what happened, and she blew me off and said, “It’s nothing, I have… narcolepsy,”

Liar.

But I didn’t press.

I didn’t change how I spoke to her, either, it was her business, not mine.

When class went out for the day, she went straight to the theater after giving me a hug, and I went to the bus.

Cami

----

“So, what happened?” Addy asked.

“I got shot six times,” I replied.

“Oh.”

I wheeled myself to the edge of the stage, tried my hardest to hop up, only for pain to shoot through my arm, and I fell back down.

I got back in the chair and wheeled the long way, through the back. Thankfully, there was another way, through the chorus room.

I had to be careful wheeling down the ramp in the room and wheeled backstage.

Eli was doing the first scene. The play we were doing was an old classic from back during the first Civil Rights movement, a love story suggesting that shifters get equal rights as well. Most involved in the movement agreed, but the humans in charge at the time sucked and said no. The vice president at the time was actually assassinated by a member of congress for pushing for a shifter rights bill in 1968. So we waited for twenty years for the second movement, and that one, humans finally relented and now the kenomi and dragon-folk had rights. The dragon-folk often lived in the packs, however, and often didn’t care. Olivia was one of the non-traditional dragon-folk, both physically, as a more unique thing that couldn’t fly, and mentally, she had a dream, and she longed to make sure that no one would ever forget it. She wanted to make it safe for all of us to return as ourselves. 

Eli shifted as the script said and a voiceover would allow them to speak on the show night. Many shifters couldn’t speak in our animal forms. I wasn’t one of them who couldn’t, I just didn’t enjoy doing so, it felt weird.

When they got off the scene, they high-fived me and said, “How’d I do, Critura?”

“Great!”

I looked at my book as I wheeled onto the scene, in the middle of the other’s monologue as the book told me. Seeing my wheelchair, it threw my scene partner, Sebby, off a bit, but he quickly stopped his surprise and continued the scene. I got to tell his character off for being an ass, as I’d adopted Eli’s character, Jenny.

It was really fun.

He stood there, character dumbfounded for a moment, and we exited in opposite directions. Me, stage right, him, stage left. 

I didn’t have to go back on ‘til scene four, an ensemble scene in which people were gossiping while I told Eli’s character to go straight to the press about the mistreatment at work. 

Eventually came four o clock, and we all had to go, and I wheeled out when Xoya called me. They and their girlfriend, Winter, were in Xoya’s SUV, and Winter looked in my general direction, smiled, and greeted me when I got in the car.

We didn’t talk much of the drive, though I wanted to tell them everything that had transpired.

Don’t worry, Cams. Xoya’s mental voice touched my mental form. 

“Don’t do that,” I said, “Its weird,”

“Well, if you bothered with the exercises I gave you, I wouldn’t be able to,”

I threw up a wall of my magic internally, solid rain dust, almost like what littered the ground after that storm I’d accidentally caused. That beautiful dust didn’t always come, but when it did, you could tell exactly where I exploded.

Xoya dropped me off at the gravel path, then started their journey back to theirs and Winter’s shared apartment. I walked up, then got inside and went into my room, and lay back on my black and navy-blue bed, the only orderly part of my paint splattered walls. All had meaning, yet to most, it looked eccentric.

My closet was black, the color black helped me to calm down. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my calming, black leather jacket anymore because of the amount of times I was shot in the torso the week before. My ceiling was navy blue. The color for sleep.

I’d go over the rest, but I wouldn’t have the energy to write all that, so just imagine an abstract painting of all colors. And I do mean all of them. Every color I knew.

I peeled off my shirt and traced the old scars that ran down my torso to my thigh. The long gone pain that made me feel as I made my former friend feel.

I missed Hunter. I wondered if Marina missed me, if Hunter told her. I wasn’t about to ask, on the chance she got scared and stayed away.

I pulled myself onto my bed and shifted. I got off and walked out the room, and I walked through the woods. I was strong in this form, and I needed to stretch my legs.

—

I lay down on an angled log and ate some termites and probably decimated the population while I was at it, but I couldn’t help it. It tasted like wood grilled meat, although I wasn’t sure what kind.

Someone approached me, and I looked up and saw Lyorna and Lizzie, about three hundred feet away. Lizzie was so excited and kept bouncing up and down, but I wanted to be alone.

I stood and padded away, and heard Lizzie following after me, despite Lyorna’s protests about how it was probably a bad idea to touch a wolf.

The Critura of the Snowdrift pack eventually managed to lead Lizzie away, and I decided to return the favor. I stalked them for about an hour before the wind changed, and Lyorna looked right at where I was in the shadows and giggled.

“Lena, what’s up?”

“Just thinking,”

I emerged and let Lizzie touch me, as she so clearly wanted, then I continued on my walk, laughing.

I lay in some sand and rolled around, when I tasted human on the air.

I went underwater, then rolled until my dark patches were on top, careful not to let out my oxygen. I occasionally craned my neck to poke my nose out, breathe out and in, and lower it again.

Something grabbed me, and I twisted, kicked, then swam to deeper waters. My feet couldn’t touch the ground in my human form, I doubted what grabbed me could. A fish passed by, and I resisted the temptation to eat it as I kicked to stay above water.

On the opposite shore, I saw several people, but I have pretty bad vision. But I recognized the scent of them and swam towards them.

Masterlist

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[jounosparticles]

oh my god wait you're so right... i imagine the doctors might have had some security in place but like. with the hunting dogs disbanded, there's probably not a “reason” to keep the security in place. maybe someone with some old pent up rage towards them hmmmmm

also i really hope they don't cure tachi's blindness 😭 i know how badly disabilities are written in bsd so it's probably pretty likely but man. the potential. i think the two of them bonding over that & jouno supporting him and helping him learn to navigate the world would be great to his character development

speaking of character development though ,, the au is very much focused on the hunting dogs and ada but i had this idea for a little bit that like.. post mersault, chuuya becomes a little more neutral and occasionally helps out the ada with stuff. obviously not to the point where he's acting as a traitor or whatever but i think some of the rivalries would start to settle down after how much they help each other save the world

i honestly don't see jouno and chuuya getting along at all LMAO i feel like jouno has a very black and white way of seeing the world when it comes to his morals?? like in his mind bad people are bad and good are good. which is part of why he has such an easy time/takes enjoyment out of his jobs. but with chuuya actively standing in the middle, helping the ada out despite being mafia, being an enemy- but at that same point i wonder how his black and white view would affect tachihara. hhfhfjsndj i want him to have a moral crisis at some point.

(also i forgot to say earlier that i do plan on watching season 5 eventually, im rewatching bsd in its whole now and im about done with season 2, if not entirely done (i forgot to check). my characterization is based off of fan content that i consume and what i could manage to gather about what ive seen so im sorry if im like insanely off with characterization HELP i promise i have decent reading comprehension. anyway :3)

- 🗡️

yeah i’m so hoping the doctors can keep safe, i assume they always will be fine but it would be such an easy way to wipe out the hunting dogs. I DONT WANT THAT TO HAPPEN!! it is just an idea that crossed my mind haha

i will say that i wish bsd wrote disabilities a bit better than they do. the whole ordeal with kunikida really bothered me a bit however i won’t go too in detail here until you’re caught up on season 5 :) (since i’m unsure if you know what’s been happening anyway). it would be nice to let tachihara prove himself to be super strong without needing his eyesight. disabled rep is super important!!

and about chuuya i could see that honestly. it seems like the mafia and ada are willing to work together if needed anyway, as we’ve seen atsushi and akutagawa team up a few times now. i always find it funny to go back and see the tension between them during the first arc verses now they just treat each other like a mild inconvenience lol.

i think your idea with jouno is also a little funny considering his own past. i really want him to question his own morality and whether he sees himself as a good person through it all. i also believe tetchou carries the same black and white view on morals.

i wonder how the hunting dogs will see tachihara after as well. he’s a decently grey character here. his conflicting status between being a mafioso and a hunting dog will surely bring up tension in the future.

(oooh i see!! that makes sense. your characterization has been good so far :D i like seeing your interpretation of things!!!)