#i was fascinated by the idea of drawing them as they would actually look if they were real bears because that's what i'm like

[a-whispering-echo]

hello. below is me rambling about my new au - the ancient city one - and what i have down for it all right now. its just me rambling, and i tend to talk like im actually TELLING people about my ideas? like im sitting across from someone explaining it, and i try to imagine im speaking to someone who knows nothing about the sanses to try and like, GRIP the characters right, yknow? so yeah - lol

uh gore warning ig? its only descriptions for now, but i WILL be drawing them at some point!

oh yeah its bsp too lol

Story starts with Cross, who was disowned by his father after the death of his brother, which happened slightly after a very large argument between Cross and said brother. this is set in an old-ish setting. not quite modern day, not quite old timey. more fantasy set time - anyway yeah, Cross gets kicked out and shamed . oh hes human too here, you'll see later-

Cross is supposed to read as slightly unlikable, not fully, but with enough character flaws to balance out his good traits. Hes cold, very ambitious, but quite selfish too. he finds it hard to put himself in others shoes, and is focused, at first, in his own self interest. at the same time, he can be incredibly sweet, and self sacrificing when he wants to be. a hero truly. hes adaptable, and strong willed, even if he can sometimes break down in an anxious mess.

Cus Cross has been disowned, he decides to set out on his own path, alone, with not much on his other than his own survival skills - as all men from his town are trained for war and go through mandatory service, as he decides to treck and explore the world, figuring maybe, if he was luckily, he'd find a NEW home and family..

Eventually, one night, Cross is attacked by wolved while out setting up camp for the night. they destroy everything he'd worked for, and would him near fatally,

One of the wolves got a bit to his head, biting right into his right eye, leaving an awful bite mark over it that forces his eye shut forever. he isnt TECNICALLY blind, but he cant really open it without massive pain, ( it will eventually get infected and need to be removed. but thats WAYY in the future.)

Cross in his mad bid for safety, managed to scale a slight cliff edge, and find a very tight cave on a said cliff edge, managing to climb up over this ledge covered in lichen and algae, and sneaking into the gap that the wolves cannot reach. unfortunately, Cross wasnt expecting the drop.

When Cross wakes up, hes in what can only be described as the ruins of an old settlement, a… city? he thinks? the stone buildings are all destroyed, looking like a bomb has gone off through it, the stone in rubble, but miraculously, there are these glowing blue lanterns handing off posts that make up bridges connecting the little 'islands' of rubble to another in a pattern, those lanterns dim, but glowing faintly enough he can see his way… hes lying in a small pond, or a well or somthing, glowing blue algae covering the water, and HIM by extension, the water cold and soaking him to the bone.

What the hell happened here?

its as Cross is trying to right himself and fugure out where the HELL he is that he sees three figure in the distance...

They move, they walk, but theyre… theyre skeletons...

.... mostly. a couple of them look like they have a LITTLE flesh covering them, but its all mouldy and rotten. theres three of them, and all of them are dressed in dark robes, and covered in that ALGAE-lichen stuff, all that glowing cyan and black colour, spreading over their limbs like a plague. they seem all slightly confused on Cross entering their domain, the shortest one looks at his suspiciously under their cowl, and the tallest, with his awful head wound, pokes and prods at Cross and his broken body with fascination. the other one, with pitch black oozing eye sockets, seems FACINATED with him, excited even, theyre rubbing up against Cross like a cat and getting that black/cyan stuff all over him, Cross to scared and in pain to push it away from him

are they… inhabitants of the past settlement, maybe?

Turns out they can, mostly, speak english. they speak with an accent like no other, one Cross cant place, and use what Cross can only describe as odd and outdated words sometimes, but they seem to be able to understand him, at least. and they understand hes hurt, and needs help..

theyre kinda… well, theyre creepy as shit, no doubt bout it, but theyre not… TRYING to be? theyre curious and weird and a bit gross, but theyre almost CAT like? they purr, they nuzzle, they even fucking SNIFF him at first, and dunk his head under the water when they find his scent distressing. - thats Killer to note - they have fucking TAILS - he sees them when Goopy turns to chirp at his friends-

theyre in different states of decay… though the flesh they DO have is little, and covered by that lichen stuff holding it to their bones like stitches, theyre not ACTIVLY rotting anymore? nor do they really smell?

The smallest one seems to speak for them, not really out of any leadership, but because Goopy doesnt seem to really understand, and Head Wound seems to only make rumbling chirping noises - they ALL make those noises, but… Scarf seems to understand him best, even it they CLEARLY dont trust Cross…

they work for their Master, and lover, a Creature named Nightmare. a being made from that black/cyan stuff, and the one who destroyed this previous kingdom entirely, killing all residents

well all, bar three? are.. well, are they dead or..?

Killer mostly moves on all fours, close to the ground, almost like a spider. he CAN stand upright, but its painful for him, and hes quicker lower to the floor. Dust is the shortest and has these glowing red spots that act like pupils in his eyes, one of them corrupted by the cyan stuff. Horror has an actual EYEBALL still in his left socket - the side with the big wound - while the other is empty. Dust is the least 'decomposed' and still has slight bits of pale tinged-purple-blue skin held to his bones with the algae stuff, but he seems to try and hide it under his layers of clothes. both Killer and Horror have claws, while Dust has his filled down and softer, though still SHARP! Killer is much more intelligent than he appears.

all three of the skeletons used to be human! theyre of a different race to any Cross would know, and mostly lived in caves and hollowed out mountains - theyre usually small people - Horror being what the kingdom would call 'a giant', with a range of skin tones but most being a soft brown, and hair that stems from black to dark red and oranges - they mostly all have dark eyes better suited to dark environment, and good senses

Dust is the most 'intelligent' of the three, seemingly knowing an array of languages and seems to know how to heal. Killer has spikes and bone shards and teeth sticking from his clothes and has a dagger attached to his belt - maybe some kind of warrior? Horror carries a spear with him that he leans on as he walks. he seems to be able to walk fine without it, but uses it almost as a cane - maybe a pain condition over physically not being able to move? with the head wound.. well, does that even MATTER anymore?

Anyways, yeah, noot noot-

Nightmare used to be a spirit of protecting for the city, until a disagreement with his Other Half, quite literally, his twin brother Dream - two beings born of the same soul, which caused Nightmare to corrupt.

Nightmare doesnt show up until at LEAST halfway through the story!

this story will eventually conclude with Cross joining them, and them all falling in love, Cross getting the answers he wants about them, and getting his FAMILY that he desperately craves.

im still working on this obs, but im gonna be doing some drawings of them not lol - obviously theres gonna be a bit of a gore warning -

[dewwshi]

we'll be there! 💖

[shiningstarr15]

I need to sit down at some point and actually finalize a design for GGY

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Love at first (club) Meeting.

Damian wants to make friends in school. He asked Colin what he should do to get this accomplishment after months of failure.

The friend recommended joining school clubs, affectionately telling him that he was in a sewing club at his own public school.

Damian didn't see how getting into an organization dedicated to some hobby was going to cause friendships, but Colin seemed to have a decent amount of friends when he wasn't running around as Abuse.

He went to check on the clubs available, but nothing really got his attention. There was the art club but only one meeting told him that it wasn't for him. The club was more for his classmates to stand around and chit chat.

None of them actually did any art, seeing as the ussually club advisor was away on maternity leave. The substitute is the baseball couch on off-season, and although he encouraged everyone to draw, it wasn't the same amount of fun as normal activities.

The other kids assured him that they would be painting and sculpting once Mrs. Flor came back, but Damian didn't want to wait.

So he leaves and tries to find a new one. The world history club bored him with useless trivia, and the chess club had no worthy challengers.

Damian decides to try one last time before giving up, when he encounters Daniel Fenton trying to get a second signature for his Ghost Hunting Club.

Fenton is from outside of Gotham. He moved here with his family after Father bought out his family business, having turned their research into defenses against aliens. Damian had seen him around school, but other than the occasional bully, no one paid too much attention to him.

Gotham Academy had four requirements for a student run club. There had to be two members to be officially started. They needed to keep a clear recap of their club minutes, a teacher had to sign as their advisor and, for the first two years, had to be without a bank account.

Fenton held up his pathetic sign-up sheet in front of passing students. He stammers, "Would like to join the Ghost hunter-um if I could bother you for a moment - are you interested in-excuse me"

Damian watches Fenton try over and over to ask for a second club memeber, but no one bothers to even hear his full question. They walk right by him as if though they could see through Fenton. He can't say why but that upsets him.

Before Damian knows what he's doing he finds his feet marching towards Fenton. The boy is staring down at his clipboard with a disheartened expression before he spots Damian.

Fenton's jaw drops, and his eyes grow impossiblely wide as Damian gets closer. He draws his clip board up to his chest, staring at the Wayne as if he was the most fascinating thing he's ever seen.

Surely Damian is not that different looking than any other human. Why is he acting like that?

"Good morning," He says when he finally stands in front of Fenton. The boy's face turns s red "I am Damian Wayne."

"Hi, I'm Danny, um Fenton, I'm Danny Fenton," the other rambles while nervously tapping his fingers on the back of the clipboard.

"Well, met Fenton. I overheard you are requesting signatures for a club?"

"Oh!" Fenton turns the clipboard but in his haste it slips from his hold, landing on the ground with loud thump. Damian raises a brow while Fenton breaks out into a sweat.

Damian leans down to grab the board at the same time, Fenton throws himself forward, and he sees the collusion before it happens, but Damian knows that a regular child wouldn't be able to dodge it without raising questions. He allows Fenton's forhead to slam against his with a hiss.

"I'm sorry!" Fenton gasps out, but Damian heeds him no mind, as he signs the form with a flourish. The harsh strokes of his pen echo in the hallway, informing Damian that he needs to head to class before the second bell.

"I shall see you after school. We can see the famous haunted bathroom in the gym. " He tells the fool, slapping the clipboard into the boy's hand. Damian twists on his heel, strutting away. He throws a hand over his shoulder, calling back. "Ta"

He misses the look of utter awe adoration aimed at his back or the rapid growing infatuation in his clubmates' eyes.

It's the start of Damian's very odd club because he finds he actually enjoys walking around the school trying to find readings for ghosts. He even enjoys following Fenton to abandon buildings, dark sewers and sitting around with childish recordings asking for any signs of the afterlife.

That's mostly due to how nervous Fenton was when wandering into haunted places. He finds great joy in watching Fenton try to put a brave face on despite shaking in his boots when a ghost might be around.

It may be cruel of Damian, but it's highly entertaining.

Danny is not scared of ghosts - that would be a bit counterproductive given his Halfa status. He is crushing hard on Damian Wayne, and when he has a crush, he gets ridiculous nervous around them that it's easier to blame the shaking, the sweating and shuttering on phasmophobia.

But could anyone blame him? Damian Wayne is a walking work of art, so much that when Danny first saw him in the hallway, he was half sure, the surroundings had dimmed.

He wasn't exaggerating when Danny thought Damian had stardust and white doves floating around his head at all times. He was that stunning.

And he had walked up to Danny to join his club, the one he had been trying for almost a week to get started because he was tired of being a friendless loser and took up Sam's advice in a desperate last ditch effort. He is so glad he had that video call with her because without it, he would never have gotten to speak to Damian.

They were in different classes, had different lunch periods, and frankly, Damian was the son of the richest man in the country. Danny was the random kid on scholarship with creepy ghost powers hunting other ghosts.

He wrote poems about Damian's eyes when flying over Gotham, sighing like a pathetic school boy. He also dodges a kuni shoot at him by Robin.

Ugh, he hates that guy. He's so rude and has been trying to hunt Danny down ever sense they arrived in Gotham. He was scary good at what he did, and the only reason Danny stayed free was Robin not understanding that he was after a ghost.

Robin thought he was a meta and had attack because of that. Which, racist much? Danny openly mocked him just to get on Robin's nerves.

Batman let Robin cause after the meta because he could tell from that little smile as he raced after the glowing figure that Damian found the other attractive. It reminds him of his early years chasing Catwoman across the rooftops.

Maybe Gotham wasn't so bad a move after all.

[typing-catastrophe]

could you write a stanford pines x reader headcanon where the reader is an artist and always draws him and draws in his journals when he isnt looking? maybe he talks to the reader about the drawings and they get really flustered i dunno!!! <3

oohhh! yeesss, that's a great idea! thank you anon ^^ hope this is okay, enjoy!

1.2k words, no warnings --------------------------------------------------

Your little habit started out even before Stanford came back. Dipper saw you sketching in your notebook from time to time, and asked you to draw something for him in the journal. He handed it to you and pointed next to a text he'd written about some anomaly (maybe a Manotaur or the Pterodactyl). First you were unsure, how would you feel if someone randomly decided to draw in your sketchbook? But it actually seemed really fun, and you didn't want to disappoint Dipper. Also it was in the spirit of research and preserving observations. And honestly, what were the odds the mysterious author would ever show up again?

With that attitude you began, whenever you got the chance to, to doodle yours and the twins encounters with the countless strange phenomena in gravity falls into the journal.

Well, oops? Seemed like the universe decided that not long after you started doing so, it was the right time for the author to come back.

It wasn't a big deal really, Dipper kept the journal for most of the time and Ford told him that he liked the additions he made. You weren't sure if he only meant the notes Dipper added, or if he even knew that someone else drew the newly added creatures.

It didn't take long for you and Ford to get to know each other better and spend more time together. Literally everything about him was just so fascinating. From the way he talked about his dimensional travels, anomaly hunts and research, his interest in a shared hobby of yours (dd&md), to the way he held himself. And, even if you were a bit embarrassed to admit it, his looks.

You couldn't help it, he was captivating. So to no surprise, one day you found yourself sitting on the shack's porch, looking over at Ford standing in the yard, working away at something that was too bulky for the basement. You didn't even realise what you were doing until something startled you out of your thoughts and you looked down at your sketchbook, seeing a familiar figure on the open page.

And then it happened again, in the lab. He was explaining away, deeply invested in whatever topic he was rambling about, not really taking in his surroundings. You had started out just sketching his study, but somehow he turned out to be the main focus of it.

One evening you found yourself in the living room of the shack. Ford was sitting on the floor, which was almost entirely covered in graph paper. You had joined him while he prepared the next campaign session, the tv quietly proving some background noise. While he was franticly scribbling away sheet after sheet, you propped open your notebook and began sketching some of the characters that came to your mind. Ford's, Dipper's and your characters and some npcs you encountered on your travels. But looming over all of them, half hidden behind the dm-screen, the scheming face of the man before you took his shape.

The end of the evening was rather blurry, you remembered falling asleep on the floor and being carried to bed, half asleep in someone's arms.

"hmm thank you", is all you could mumble when you felt the soft pillow under your head.

"No problem, dear", you heard a deep voice chuckle.

-

When you thought about it the next morning, a smile crept unto your face and you kinda wished, you would've been more awake, so you could've enjoyed the moment properly.

The smile was quickly wiped off though, when you realised that you must've left your sketchbook in the living room, given that Ford probably didn't bring it with him last night. You panicked and jumped out of bed, stumbling to the door when your gaze was caught by something. Your sketchbook, laying on your desk. You exhaled, glad it didn't lay around for anyone to see. You took it into your hands and opened it to the last page you were working on. But instead of the drawing from yesterday evening, only the one before that stared back at you. Confused, you turned the pages a few times, examined it, maybe someone ripped it out? No, no remnants of a torn out page....

Then, it dawned on you. You left your notebook in your room yesterday. You didn't plan on staying or even going to the living room. God knows how you ended up there, but it definitely was without your sketchbook. Which could only mean one thing...

In record time you were out the door, down the hall and in the living room. Right in time to take in the scenery of Ford staring down at his campaign notebook, opened to the page of your drawing.

"Ahh!! No no don't look!", you jumped forward and put your hands over the drawing. Ford furrowed his eyebrows, looking quite puzzled.

"This? Oh I already saw it last night after getting you to bed. It is incredible!"

Your cheeks heated up. "Oh" was all you could utter.

"It was also you who added the depictions of the twin's adventures, right?"

"Uhmm" You didn't keep your passion for drawing a secret, but you also didn't make a big deal out of it. And honestly, the way Ford was always so indulged in his own mind, you didn't think he was paying much attention to what you were doing. Now you felt a bit stupid for believing he wouldn't connect the - admittedly - obvious dots.

"They really are marvellous. And this?", he gestured to yesterdays page "Truly phenomenal!"

You didn't know what to say. You weren't even sure if you could say anything at all. All you felt was blood rushing to the tips of your ears and a flaming hot sensation in your cheeks.

"I- well uhm, thank you", you managed to stutter "I uh, I actually didn't mean to- uhm, use your campaign book. It was a mistake, I'm sorry."

"You've got to be joking! It's the perfect addition!" Ford exclaimed. "Do you mind if I keep it?"

"Oh", his enthusiasm caught you off guard. "I-, I guess not. Actually, that would mean a lot to me." you admitted sheepishly.

"Very well then! Thank you, dear." He looked at you with a fond expression.

You were about to retreat back to your room, turning around ready to leave, when Ford spoke up again, the smile apparent in his voice. "I also liked your artistic rendition of the twins adventures. Anything else you want to show me?" You froze.

Your heart started beating ridiculously fast. Did he knew? Did he notice you staring at him while drawing? Your thoughts started racing, but came to a sudden halt when he leaned down. His lips were almost touching your ear when he started to whisper.

"Maybe another time." And with that he walked by you, leaving you to yourself.

-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated

a/n: if you want a second part with romance and/or where ford discovers the drawings of him, let me know! Have a nice day/night!

[bokettochild]

random LU hcs before I go to church

Legend likes to draw, and while he uses it for practical purposes (he's compiling a bestiary of his own) he also likes to sketch random crap he finds while traveling

Hyrule weaves. Not fabric, since that's a bit legthly and requires materials he can't get or keep for long, but he's very good at making baskets and the like! When the rest go to his cave, it's just full of woven items, including his attempts at weaving a freaking chair. Hyrule is going to become Pier 1

Sky writes poetry but never shares it with anyone. Groose used to laugh at it when they were kids, and so he's very self-conscious about it (and not very good anyways). He does come up with some really, really good pieces though from time to time!

Warriors couldn't read before he enlisted. He had to learn, and did learn rather quickly once he had to, but he still did very much not grow up with books. He is, however, very fond of oral tradition and somehow keeps a library's worth of knowledge in his head, since he never knew how to write it down before.

Warriors loves folk tails and will use any excuse given in order to share them with the younger ones

Wind is a very proficient mapmaker. he's terrible at drawing figures or anything, but he's very good at charting things out and putting them down on paper

Wind has a great eye for photography though! He and Wild sometimes play a game where they have to find a particular item and take a pictograph of it and then they'll have one of the others judge which one is better. Wild's candids are usually better, but Wind has a talent from framing and using the light to his advantage that outshines Wild's.

Wind likes composing little tunes with the Windwaker when he's bored. he has accidentally discovered several magical songs and their effects in this manner. Sometimes Time debates if just teaching his the Song of Storms from the get go would have been better in the long run, since it would have saved them getting soaked so much

Four has a fascination with artistic metalwork. He can't do it himself, and often times can't understand how someone thought up the idea in the first place, but it gives him great delight to see various metal pieces/tools/items forged together into the oddest art pieces

Twilight claims he's no good art of any kind, usually blaming "these darn big paws o' mine", but the secret is that he's a talented embroiderer, he just doesn't consider it "art" in the same way the rest do. Most Ordon folks add stitch-work to things so he considers it standard practice, not exceptional.

Sky is also very good at stitch-work of all kinds

When Sky and Twilight discover their shared skill-set, they absolutely use it for evil (start adding little patterns and things on their brother's stuff). Is this competitive? They're Links, you tell me!

Time claims not to be very creative, but he's actually quite good at art himself! Just drawing, as his paintings have a very childish sort of color combinations and the like, but he's surprisingly very good with shading and proportions!

All the boys play music, but Twilight's a good hand on the fiddle/violin (but only for short periods) and Legend has a surprising preference for the piano/organ. They'd make an excellent duet if they actually managed to know any of the same songs

Wild cannot and should not play instruments, Hylia help your ears if he does. He's also not that great of an artist (look for JoJo's comic of him drawing a new tapestry, it's hilarious). He likes the art the others make, but in general, the best he can do it just making designs and patterns that always seem to resemble Korok puzzles.

[universesweetheart]

I would love more chubby Dazai stories or headcanons if you have them! I also love the idea of cooking for him and feeding him and him having a cute chubby little belly! 💕

More to Love (Dazai x Reader)

In which dazai notices a few changes with himself

a/n: also never thought I'd be one of those people to write crazy unhinged author's note but here I am. I am soooo sorry it took literal months to reply to your ask but (buckle up) my mom died and I got laid off from my job so here I am, with the world of free time and a bucket of grief. Enjoy this short drabble!

My other dazai fics: here, here, here, here :]

Bye now - Mars ♡

After years of being together, Dazai notices he’s been gaining some weight, and his thinness is no longer visible.

Dazai has never felt at home with his body, but he also never cared about his size, or weight. He had much darker things to fill his time and days with than obsessing over his meatsac. His mind, his dark thoughts, his past, the blood on his hands, Odasaku.

When he started his relationship with you, it was all intense and consuming at first. Over the months, that passion has simmered into a softer slow loving. More deeply intimate.

Slowly his days merged with yours and your routines incorporated his. From making space in your closet for his clothes to always keeping extra rolls of bandages in your bathroom cupboard, and even tossing in canned crab into the cart when you grocery shopped. It all fell into place naturally. He was meant to be here, with you.

He noticed all the little adjustments you made with your space for him and he was grateful, truly. 

He also noticed how you’d slyly get him to take care of himself more. A sweet little ‘for me?’ easily did the trick. He was no match for your sweet tone and beautiful hope-filled eyes.

Dazai found himself changing slowly. He’d no longer drink sake first thing in the morning, instead he’d sit in the kitchen and entertain you with his dramatics and sweet words as you made a simple loving warm breakfast for you two. He especially loved when you’d make Korean sandwiches and shape the eggs into heart shapes. You were as much of a sap as he was. 

Osamu also started eating lunch. Not necessarily because he wanted to or he was hungry. But because he hated that sad disappointed look on your face when he didn’t eat the lunch you packed him. He saved all your notes and drawings, and he would share his meal with the young detective if he was having a particularly bad day and just couldn’t bring himself to eat.

When he got back home, all he wanted to do was sink into the couch and hug you and never let go. You’d whine about having dinner together and like a hopeless man in love he’d indulge you, even if it was a little treat. His favourite treat to indulge in was you. Ever the corny horny man he is. 

Over the years of being together he had noticed a drastic change in his eating habits. The biggest one being he actually eats now. 

And with eating, and a good loving, he inevitably noticed the weight he gained.

He’s not bothered by it. He’s even fascinated by the new softness of his body. And he’s flourishing in the added attention you give him. You seem to like this new weight. More of him to love, you tell him with a sweet kiss to his lips. 

He even went with you to buy new clothes for him. He obviously grabbed the opportunity to pull you into the changing room and absolutely wrecked you. Safe to say by the end of that shopping spree, you were full of cum, and his closet was full of new clothes.

Demands kisses and hickeys on the softer parts of his body and will not hesitate to moan wantonly when you cave and do it. Be sure to bite him too, gets him going. 

Press soft kisses and praise his newfound stretch marks and he’s folding you in two and hammering his cock into you, only to softly cuddle you after with whispers of love and affection.

[manicpixiefelix]

love the hand that feeds you {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

One-Shot for head, heart, hand. but can be read as a stand-alone.

Summary: Everyone's always called you Felix's Dog. Felix has always had a problem with this. You've always wished that he didn't. Oliver's never been much of a cat person anyways.

Need to Know: They/Them. NB!Reader. Oliver's POV. Set after the Summer at Saltburn but with a happy, poly ending. Established Felix/Reader/Oliver. Reader's AGAB/sex is never made explicitly clear so hopefully all of y'all can enjoy.

Warnings: SMUT. Porn with plot. Pet play, obviously. Demeaning language (dog is the main one, obviously), oral, threesome, unprotected sex, d/s dynamics (all three of you go back and forth but there's mostly Dominant!Oliver), teasing, praise kink (and praise kink by proxy), pet names (ha). Felix & Reader being horny puppies who love Oliver Quick (and each other) very much.

A/N: 9494 words. i told my girlfriend about this fic and how long it is and she said 'at that point is it a oneshot or a cry for help' and idk man it's definitely a cry for something 👀

----

It starts because Felix likes having his hair played with.

Actually, it starts the week before with you, drunk and giggling at a house party, playing with the chain Oliver's always wearing with more fascination than usual, when you admit that Venetia once bought you a collar. Of course you provide the caveat that it was more to piss Felix off, which it had, and that it had been thrown into the fire before you ever got to wear it. Oliver, who'd been watching Felix playing beer pong across the room, has to take a moment to process what you'd said.

"Wish she didn't make it all weird," you sighed a little forlornly, and you give the chain a faint tug, "I'm such a good dog, everyone says so," then you huffed a faint, flustered laugh, "not everyone. Not you and Fi, you guys are lovely, but sometimes I am a bit like a dog; I'm okay with that."

In the next moment you're humming along to whatever trashy pop is playing, and Oliver's pretty sure you've already forgotten what you'd just said, but even in his own state of inebriation, he can't.

The next day, on one of the many lawns across Oxford's beautiful campus, Oliver's sitting with Felix's head in his lap, fingers running through his hair as you and Felix are brainstorming gifts for Venetia's upcoming birthday. Felix has his eyes closed, enjoying the warm afternoon and the sensation of Oliver's gentle petting, while you're splayed out on the grass beside them both, focusing on your notebook.

Yes, you've always been a good dog, but you'd been well trained; the more Oliver thinks about it, the more he finds himself also drawing comparisons between Felix and an excitable, affectionate, pampered pup himself. But there was potential there, Oliver could see it clear as day.

So he'd started to come up with a plan. A simple plan, thankfully; knowing you both it wouldn't require anything too complicated, it wouldn't be particularly manipulative. At least not maliciously.

A simple, two step plan to show the impossibly beautiful, rich, loving heirs how much he loved and appreciated them for all their qualities, especially the dog-like ones, in certain circumstances. Really it's not even his idea; Felix's whole family had drawn the comparison with you before it had even really occurred to him. He couldn't be blamed for being intrigued about following it to its logical end, and showing you both it's not the negative it usually comes across as. At least, that's how he phrases it in his mind when he's justifying it to himself.

And if he thinks you and Felix would both look pretty in a collar, well that's just a perk he keeps to himself.

The first step is submission.

All three of you fluctuated between dominance and submission on any given day, an enthusiastic ebb and flow of control amongst the three of you, in every combination imaginable. Except Felix seems unable to fully commit himself to submitting to Oliver alone; oh he plays along without hesitation, will get on his knees for Oliver at the slightest firm tone, but he always seems more thrilled knowing your hand is on his metaphorical leash.

So Oliver takes his time figuring out what exactly will make Felix long for Oliver's hand on his throat. The solution is shockingly simple.

Praise.

It couldn't be just any praise. He'd lived his life hearing sweet words about how good he looks, or how lovely he was, it had to be deeper than that. Praise only you or Oliver could give, praise that he craved to hear, praise for the parts of himself he quietly put effort into.

Praise for being helpful, for being diligent, for being caring and genuinely thoughtful to the two of you, for being good.

"God, you're so good to me, Felix," Oliver groans in the bathroom of a house party, back pressed against the door while Felix was on his knees, Oliver's cock in his mouth. When Oliver looks down, sees Felix with a faint blush on his cheeks that's far sweeter than the rest of the debauchery of their situation, Oliver cards a hand through his hair, giving him a look that radiated just as much love as he felt for the man himself, "always so fuckin' good to me," he murmurs this time.

Felix, now bright red, all kinds of flustered, pulls back for half a second, unable to fight back a smile as he swears under his breath, but Oliver's hand in his hair tightens. Felix eyes flutter closed as Oliver, tone on his voice like a warning, tells Felix that he didn't say stop.

And Felix seems more than delighted to obey, to be as good to Oliver as he'd just been deemed.

Praise like this always made Felix all smitten and obedient and eager to please. Of course Oliver had always been quick to praise Felix, but this was different, was concentrated and specific. Once Oliver had started with these efforts, Felix seemed to grow more relaxed and eager to let Oliver become dominant over him when the mood struck him, even without the specific praise. Though the praise always helped.

The second step is acceptance.

Considering everything that had happened at Saltburn - the voyeuristic games you'd played with Oliver, the adventurous ways and places in which you and Felix would fuck, the handjob you'd given him after you caught him drinking the bath water that Felix had gotten off into that ended with you also managing to come untouched while Oliver moaned Felix's name in your ear, just to name a few - Oliver knew your sex lives would be more than a little kinky before he even officially joined this relationship. He was not disappointed.

Both you and Felix seemed more than willing to try anything, though Oliver was delighted to discover just how much you'd both already done, and were more than eager to do again.

All this to say that pet play was barely a step removed from roleplay, so he shouldn't have been surprised that you jump at the chance. At first it stays between you and Oliver, for obvious reasons that have everything to do with Felix's hangups about the derogatory way other people had often called you a dog. But when Oliver calls you 'pretty pup' for the first time, you react just the same way Felix does when praised.

Flustered. Bashful. Obedient.

Except Oliver quickly learns that you react far stronger than Felix. It seems not only were you telling the truth about being okay with the title, simply hearing it said so lovingly by Oliver, even in the most innocent situations, was enough to turn you on. It was validation you so desperately wanted, craved, your efforts and constant place by their side acknowledged and appreciated. There are times even when you're in control where you demand praise, and the words slip out.

"You're a good dog," Oliver gasps out, your legs over his shoulders, his head between your thighs. A pleased noises rumbles from somewhere in your chest and you laugh low and heady.

"You're fucking lucky to have a dog like me, Oliver Quick," comes out all lazy and confident, but his nose of agreement isn't enough for you, clearly, as your thighs momentarily tighten around him, trapping him, and he feels one of your heels press insistently against his back, "aren't you lucky," you say pointedly, warning in your voice, "to have such a good dog?" Echoing your words in agreement, they come out sounding like a breathless prayer, one he's eager to chant to see the heady, powerful smile you wear when you hear it.

Fuck he feels dizzy with lust in this moment, desperate to devour you, have his mouth on you, like his life depends on it, hoping you'll grant him the chance to fuck you - there's something about you in control that will always drive Oliver utterly mad. Actually, no matter the situation or who's in control, knowing you and Felix continue to want him, love him, choose him to share these moments with... sometimes he still can't believe he got here in the end.

He never thought he'd hear you beg, let alone for him. It's like fucking music.

When he's got you like this, under him, desperate, eager to please, mind a messy haze caught up in this fantasy being played out with you as his perfect pup - so good, so loyal, fuck you're precious, pet - where he can do or say practically anything to you, where you want him to.

"Fuck I love how pathetic you sound, pet," he mumbled into your ear, pressed against you, thrusting slow and deep, "can't even form a proper thought, can you?" He teases. Your hips stutter up into his in an inconsistent rhythm, desperate. Chiding you for it, he sits back, even as a disappointed mewl escapes you. As if moving out of instinct, you reach out, as if to try and pull him back in, and your fingers catch on the chain he still wears around his neck.

"Drop it," he orders immediately, to which you let go as if the metal had burned you. However, Oliver can feel you clench around his cock, hips rolling, pressing close to him, instinctively, "good dog," he purred, pleased, deciding to reward you by finally fucking you with intent.

So it's not you who still has to come to accept this concept. But Oliver's fairly confident you will be the main reason when Felix does come to accept it. In fact, he doesn't even bring the concept up to Felix himself; he knows you well enough that it will only be a matter of time.

It doesn't take long.

One night at the club, all three of you drunk and feeling indulgent under the lights and haze, you hear a resentful -

"Felix really can't go anywhere without his dog -"

You have to hold Felix back from searching for the girl who said it to start shouting at her, assuring him it's fine, but Oliver then has to drag you both of the dancefloor when you start unexpectedly arguing with each other. He actually genuinely can't pick exactly what the argument is about until he's got you both in one of the marginally quieter side rooms, you and Felix still arguing animatedly -

"- shouldn't even be talking about you like that, they don't even know you -" Felix snapped, while you stepped up into his space, having him in the chest.

"When the fuck have I ever cared what anyone but you thinks of me?!"

"I don't think of you as my dog!"

"How many times do I have to say that I don't mind being called your dog before you figure out that maybe I want you to call me that?!" You glare up at him, watching the confusion and mixed emotions about the idea pass over his face in rapid succession, "I'm getting sick of you taking issue with the title, and refusing to understand why I don't; am I not every fucking thing the perfect dog is to you? I am loyal," with each descriptor you gave an instant push against his chest, as if to punctuate each point, "diligent, protective, you know I'd follow you to hell and back, it makes me happy to make you happy, and yes, Felix, just like a dog, I can be obedient," Felix's gaze is shocked as you lay it all out before him. Your voice lowers, Oliver can barely hear you over the music in the next room, "but unlike a dog, I was not trained to love you, to stick by you like I do; that is a choice I made. That is a choice I continue to make happily every single day of my life. Every other asshole who calls me a dog can see it, most of them are fucking jealous because I am the one you choose to keep by your side. Why would I ever take issue with being called that? What do I have to be jealous of? I am the dog, Felix Catton, and I am yours."

It's... reductive, Oliver thinks, but it has to be to get your point across, so he keeps that to himself. He knows all too well how old this sore spot is between you two, far older than his place in your relationship. Perhaps if things hadn't worked out quite so well for him, or if he weren't so secure in his relationship with you both, perhaps he'd worry, be jealous of how you're speaking once more like you and Felix only have each other. But her knows you're not, knows that you're speaking to the version of Felix who can't let go of his discomfort at the title's implications. Part of Felix would always listen to you above all others, even Oliver, but Oliver himself had in part fallen for the way you two loved each other, he lives seeing that connection still strong, bright and alive, and knowing that you've both still chosen to love him too.

Felix, a few feet away, looks suddenly conflicted, almost upset as he tries to process and reconcile your words. However, when Felix can't seem to give a proper reaction, a look of disappointment crosses over your face, and you turn sharply, stalking from the room, from the club entirely.

"It still feels demeaning to them," Felix has been sulking the entire walk back to campus, he and Oliver having left not too long after you. Oliver bites his tongue on the fact that he knows you get off on being demeaned in the right circumstances; Felix is off course aware of this, but not the true extent. Instead, all Oliver offers is a non-committal hum. Felix pouts, still mostly talking to himself, "'s rude," he mumbled, "'s a mean thing to call someone; dog..." Though it sounds almost like a question.

"So you'd be mad if someone called you Y/N's dog?" Oliver says with a surprising amount of casualness considering he has no idea where his boldness came from. Beside him, Felix goes very quiet. Oliver pointedly doesn't look at him.

"That's different," Felix finally managed after several long, strained moments in which he'd thoroughly considered Oliver's words. Except Felix hasn't managed to sound nearly as casual as Oliver, the poor boy sounds rather abashed at the thought, though he still tries to play it off, albeit unsuccessfully, "Ollie, that's- that's completely different."

"How's it different?" Oliver needles him subtly, still giving Felix a modicum of privacy from his ever watchful eyes.

"Because it is," Felix insists, before blurring out - "because it's never happened!"

When Oliver finally looks over at Felix, he keeps his expression just on the positive side of neutral, only to be met with the sight of Felix, wide eyed, and faintly flush. Oliver blinks.

"But you are," he says easily. Felix's lips press into a thin line, face turning steadily darker with his blush as he finally stops walking. Oliver can read the 'the fuck do you mean by that?' all across Felix's flustered, intoxicated features before the man can even open his mouth to ask, so Oliver stops walking too, elaborating without hesitation, "if we're going by Y/N's metrics for what a good dog is, aren't you one too?"

This conversation was completely unexpected for Oliver too, despite how he was the one who pushed it in this direction. Beautiful, expressive Felix is already growing less tense as he turns the thoughts over in his mind. Oliver, eager to help him along on his path to acceptance, reiterates the values you'd laid out in the club -

"Loyal, diligent, protective," he lists easily, "you know you'd follow them anywhere, and do anything to make them happy," he doesn't have to say that Felix can be obedient to you to know they're both thinking it. Instead, Oliver shrugs, "but you're Felix Catton, of course no-ones going to call you a dog."

"What?" Felix's deliberation finally gives way in the face of confusion.

"Everyone knows Y/N loves you, but they don't want to think about you loving Y/N back."

"But I do," Felix's soft voice sounds so hurt by the very idea, "everyone knows I do." Oliver's own expression softens as he steps forward. Felix's brow creases in what can only be described as disappointed confusion.

"I know," he assures smoothly, "that's other people's problem, its not fair on either of you." Oliver's hand is gentle on Felix's shoulder, but Felix is still clearly bothered, even as they start walking again.

"Maybe that's why it bothered you so much," Oliver finally speaks again when they're back on campus. Felix doesn't speak, but does look to Oliver with an expression of clear confusion, "because you didn't like the idea of people thinking Y/N loved you more than you loved them." After a moment, Felix sighs, making a faint, disappointed hum of agreement.

"Did you think that?" Felix asked softly after a moment, "before you really knew us, is that what you thought of us too?" He sounds almost disappointed at the thought. Oliver, however, has to fight back a smile.

"Not even for a fuckin' second," he admits with a sharp laugh, and Felix immediately perks up with intrigue and something almost like relief, though Oliver's tone is amused as he continues, "I honestly couldn't believe no-one else could see it; never seen anyone quite so dedicated to taking care of their dog as Y/N was to looking out for you."

Felix turns bright red once more, but he's wearing that big, bashful grin Oliver's always loved.

"I am, aren't I?" Felix sounds almost giddy at the thought. Oliver feels like there's fireworks going off in his chest.

"Y/N really can't go anywhere without their dog either," Oliver teases, lovingly parroting the words that had been so cruelly overheard at the club. If Felix were any drunker or happier, he probably would have started actually skipping. As it was, however, the two of them approaching Felix's dorm building, he wraps an arm around Oliver's shoulders.

"You know all that stuff they said, all that stuff about being a good dog, you know that's how we feel about you too, Ollie," Felix can clearly tell the minute Oliver's brain short circuits, because he laughs and plants a kiss on Oliver's cheek, "sorry if you're more of a cat person, mate," he teases, as if he hadn't just suddenly rewired something in his boyfriend's brain.

You and Felix. YouAndFelix. Both love him the way a dog loves their owner. It goes beyond even any lewd fantasies he'd had; a year ago he was watching you both through his window, talking and laughing in the afternoon sun, wishing desperately that he could work up the courage to talk to either of you, befriend you.

But you and Felix - YouAndFelix, together, individually, in every single way Oliver can conceive the idea of you - both love him. Our Ollie, the way he's heard spoken so lovingly, sounds so much sweeter than he'd ever even imagined.

"You're both very sweet to me," Oliver hears himself mumble as he and Felix finally find themselves outside of Felix's door. Everything feels like it's spinning, in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol, and everything to do with the way Felix is smiling at him. Instead of answering, though Oliver's sure there's half a dozen teasing or sappy comments trapped in the tip of Felix's tongue, he kisses him instead. Felix always seemed to know exactly when Oliver was overwhelmed with their shared reality, and always took his time to admire that look in Oliver's eyes. Now was no different.

He's always thought Oliver was so strange, so queer, so different from everyone else in his life, and so clearly loved him for it.

Felix finally is the one to break the moment, knocking lightly on the door, knowing you well enough to anticipate where you'd be despite your earlier anger. As if on cue, you sighed heavily on the other side of the door, before inviting them in.

While Felix barely gives you time to react where you're in your pyjamas, sitting in his bed in the lamp light, not even kicking off his shoes before he throws himself into your lap, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pressed his face against your thigh, Oliver hovers by the door.

"Hi, sorry, hi, love you," escapes Felix in a rush. Despite your conflicted expression, the way your hand comes to rest on his head, carding through his hair is automatic. It's an endearing, amusing sight to Oliver, considering the night that had just passed. He knows you're looking at him, questioning gaze searching for some kind of explanation for Felix's change of behaviour, but Oliver lets himself linger a few moments longer on watching Felix's almost childishly clingy behaviour.

He struggles to kick off his shoes for a moment before he finally managed, and hitch a leg up, over both of yours, still in his jeans and jacket but refusing to be anything but wrapped up in you.

"I'm not staying," is what Oliver finally says, despite the gentle affection in his voice. You frown faintly, but still seem more confused than upset, "I think you two need to talk," he explains. Despite the way your mouth flattens into a thin line, you're still gently petting Felix's hair. Still, Oliver steels himself, giving you a strange little smile, "you're a good dog, Y/N," he says pointedly. This seems to surprise you, but not as much as Felix's sitting echo.

"Such a good dog," he agrees with a fond sigh, half muffled against you. Immediately your confusion, your concern drops in favour of sweet, hopeful shock. But Oliver continues before he shuts the door, smile growing into a grin.

"So are you, Felix," and Felix's head shoots up so he can level a bright, sunny smile over his shoulder at Oliver. Christ, Oliver can practically see his tail wagging.

"Love you, Ollie," Felix beams cheerfully. While Oliver echoes the sentiment back at you both as he closes the door, you can't seem to look away from Felix.

Something warm and pleased and satisfied curls itself comfortably in Oliver's chest on the brief walk back to his own room. It goes beyond any selfish, sexual desires he's had, not that there wasn't an element of that, of course, but he can't stop thinking about the joy in Felix's expression, or the way you'd disbelieving smile you'd been wearing when Oliver had closed the door. An old ache beginning to heal.

The change is subtle at first. At least, from the outside.

After that fateful summer, the three of you had made no secret of your relationship. Felix had always been tactile and clingy and prone to shows of affection, you had always made a point to make Oliver feel included and welcome and like you craved his company, while Oliver himself had never made any secret of whose attention and contact he preferred in any group setting. So he's sure, to their friends, the three of you seem to be the same as you've always been.

Farleigh had once scoffed at the pub that the three of you were insufferably gross, and while the rest of the group at the table had agreed, it had been more teasing than malicious; on one side of Oliver, you'd pressed your laughter into his shoulder, while Felix had throw his arm around Oliver and chided Farleigh not to be jealous, wearing a wide, easy smile.

Oliver and Farleigh still may not exactly see eye to eye, but things had gotten easier between them. Across the table, Farleigh met Oliver's bashful gaze and though he'd rolled his eyes, though he seemed exasperated by all three of you, there was warmth in his eyes. He may not love Oliver, but he still loved you and Felix; baby steps.

So all that to say that at first the change is so subtle that even the ever-watchful Farleigh, who knows you and Felix better than any of your other friends, doesn't even notice.

But oh, Oliver feels the change right away.

He honestly thought the three of you weren't able to get closer, but he's never been more thrilled to be wrong. Never afraid or jealous of each other living your own lives, it just seemed that when you're around each other, you weren't interested in being seen as an individual. More possessive in the most affectionate way. Always in some kind of obvious contact, arguably too close for the comfort of others, not that any of you cared. Oliver, always shadowed by his beautiful guard dogs.

"Can I wear this?" You ask casually one evening, drinking cheap vodka and juice as you waited for Oliver to get ready to go out. When Oliver turns, half dressed after a shower, he sees you holding one of the chains he always found himself wearing. He doesn't think twice before agreeing, doesn't even think much of the request at the time. The significance is missed on him until the two of you meet up with Felix in the line for the club and he pulls you by the chain, in for a kiss. You're still holding Oliver's hand, fingers linked with his. Reading Felix's kiss for the compliment it is, you grin sharply as you pull back, stepping up beside him in line.

"Thanks, it's Ollie's."

"I know," Felix snorts a laugh, throwing an arm around you as he gives Oliver himself a sly smile, "you look good too, mate, how're you going?" You squeeze Oliver's hand, leaning into him for a moment with a coy smile. Your free hand is playing with his chain around your throat. Like you know exactly where his mind has suddenly gone.

Oliver already knows how this night will end, and it doesn't disappoint.

Neither he nor Felix can seem to leave you or the chain around your neck well enough alone, and you're clearly love it. You let yourself be lead around, let them lavish you with affection in dark corners, wearing a smile that's all teeth when you meet the surprised, scandalised gazes of those who gawked rather than averted their gaze.

In the back of the taxi on the way to campus, you're impossibly affectionate, like an excited puppy as you try and split your attention to your boyfriends either side of you.

"Settle down, love," Felix takes your hand in his, keeping you momentarily still, even as you pout.

"We'll be home soon," Oliver murmurs quietly, trying to act casual as he looks out the window, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. A faint, impatient whine escapes you, but you acquiesce, leaning your head on Felix's shoulder even as a fond laugh rumbles from his chest.

The cabbie has the radio on in the front, pointedly ignoring the three of you. But the music is loud enough that he doesn't hear the soft, approving way Felix mutters in your ear -

"Good dog."

But Oliver hears, feels the way your thighs momentarily clench together, hears the breathless, needy 'fucking hell, Fi' that escapes you. His grin grows wider.

On the walk back to your room - always cleaner than Felix's, and with a bigger, nicer bed than Oliver's - you're quiet, seemingly focusing very hard on staying that way, even as Oliver and Felix are bantering easily either side of you. Hands to yourself - well, metaphorically, Oliver and Felix are both holding one of your hands, Felix, feeling particularly joyful swings your linked hands in wide arcs between you - you listen diligently, and chime in whenever you felt your input was needed. Oliver thinks you're being incredibly endearing, but once the door is closed and the rest of the world is cut off from the three of you, Felix softly asks if you're okay.

Surprise lights up across your face the minute the question is spoken. It hadn't even occurred to you that Felix wouldn't understand your behaviour in this moment; this is far newer to him than it is to you. But then you look to Oliver, almost like you're afraid that he wouldn't understand either.

But he does, of course.

There's a faint thrill that courses through him realising that for what is perhaps the first time since he'd met you, he can read you better than Felix. That Felix was yet to understand how far from reluctant or uncomfortable you were in that moment.

Felix had told you to settle, called you a good dog when you had. So now you were trying your hardest to remain settled, to remain good. How delightfully obedient you were in these moments, in this headspace.

Oliver finally gave you a warm smile, shrugging off his jacket.

"They're being good is all," he says casually, drawing Felix's confused attention as you broke out into a wide smile at the praise. Again, Oliver has a flash, a mental image of a tail wagging with joy behind you.

"I'm being good, I'm being settled," you reiterated pointedly, standing carefully by the foot of the bed. Once more, however, you've started fussing with the chain around your neck. Felix looks back to you, as if he still can't quite grasp the full scope of what's happening, and laughs lightly.

"You're so fucking cute," he grinned, "love, you didn't have to stay settled all the way back here."

"I didn't?" Your eyes go wide with confusion, and you look again to Oliver, as if for confirmation, "but I..."

Oliver can feel his heart beating in his throat. Oh, right, he's the one who's done this before, he's the one who started this all, at least this version of this dynamic. You aren't Felix's dog in this moment, you are his.

"You did good, pet, don't worry" Oliver assures you, soothing you with a gentle tone as he steps towards you and takes your face in his hands, kissing you on the forehead. Wearing a grateful little smile, you regard him lovingly for a few moments, before he steps away and you turn your focus back to Felix. There's a hungry kind of intrigue in his big, brown eyes now as he takes the scene in with newfound understanding.

"You really are a good dog," Felix marvels approvingly. Your whole face lights up at that, stumbling a few steps forwards, as if you hadn't meant to move but needed to be close to him. Nodding furiously in agreement, your fingers fidget like you're trying desperately not to reach for him. Felix steps towards you, his smile growing wider as he does so, "mine- ours?" He corrects, wrapping his arms around you, and finally your resolve breaks.

"Both," you assure in a rushed breath before you're pulling him in, kissing him frantically, as all the longing you'd held back since you'd been told to settle floods through you. Once fidgeting hands now start frantically tugging at clothing, both yours and his, but Felix is matching your energy entirely. Oliver gets hit in the face with your jacket as it's flung across the room but neither you nor Felix notices. In his enthusiastic haste several of the buttons on your nice, expensive shirt are ripped off, pinging around the room.

Not that Oliver actually minds.

Still in his jeans, he leans his hip against your desk and watches for a few long moments with both a lewd appreciation, and amusement. Perhaps another day, or when it was just the two of you, Felix would invest himself properly in a version of this fantasy where you truly are his dog. Tonight, however, Oliver sees opportunity in the obvious, messy, needy way Felix is pawing at you. An opportunity for his plan to finally be realised, and he's not letting it pass him by.

When you fall back on the bed, Felix braced over you, your hand finding his fly while the two of you still haven't stopped to really breathe, Oliver sticks two fingers in his mouth to let out a sharp whistle.

Immediately there's silence, the attention of both of you having immediately snapped to Oliver. Shaking his head with faux exasperation, Oliver sighs loudly, as if terribly put upon.

"Can't take you two anywhere," he tsked, crossing his arms over his chest, "pair of naughty fuckin' puppies, you can't leave each other alone."

Felix blinks quickly, as if caught of guard by the shift in tension, the dynamic.

"Ollie, what are you -"

"Ollie, don't be mean, Fi's the best dog, take that back!" You chided despite your wide grin.

"Is he now?" Oliver asks archly, smirking at you both. Felix isn't quite looking at him, expression drawn and thoughtful as he processed this change, turned it over in his mind. Slowly, he looks down at you, at your soft, warm smile. A silent conversation between you both, one of many that Oliver will only ever be able to guess at, and you close your eyes as you sit up enough to press your forehead to Felix's.

Felix visibly relaxed, which you must feel judging by the way you grin.

"It's fun, I promise," your whisper, though in the cool, quiet night, Oliver can still hear it clearly.

"But he called me naughty, I can't believe it," Felix whined playfully, causing you to laugh as the two of you sank back down on the bed. Felix tucked himself up beside you, face half hidden where he was pressing his lips to your shoulder to hide his little smile, "you're so mean to me, Ollie." It sounded as though he was pouting, but his eyes betrayed him, nervous and tentative to be adapting and playing along with the bit, but clearly more than a little excited too. There's also something tearing, almost challenging about the way Felix was running his fingertips up and down the side of your chest.

"You are being naughty," Oliver finally pushes off of the desk, sauntering over to the bed, "both of you acting like I didn't exist."

"Can you blame me?" You actually giggled, sounding downright gleeful, "look at who we get to play with!" Felix flushed at that, pressing his bashful smile against your shoulder. Oliver finds himself really quite taken with how you've chosen to adapt to having Felix by your side in this fantasy.

"If I can't blame you," Oliver says with faint notes of faux warning in his voice as he sits by you both on the bed, "are you saying I should blame Felix? Is our new pet a bad influence." You stumble over your words for moment, searching for a denial, but Felix's head shoots up at that, his eyes wide as he props himself up on the bed beside you.

"Hey, I'm a good influence! I'm good!" He insists, the words coming to him so automatically that it seems to startle even him before he properly focuses back on Oliver's fond amusement. Felix grins sheepishly at his own enthusiasm, ducking his head to look instead at you as he reiterated with a soft giggle, "I'm good."

"I think you're very good," there's love on your tongue, in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Then, in the next moment, you wriggle yourself over to rest your head against Oliver's thighs, gazing up at him with a pout, "come on, Ollie, don't be mean," you practically whined, while Felix himself half draped himself across your middle, his head resting on your belly as he turned his full attention and hopeful brown eyes upon your boyfriend. It was far more convincing than Oliver had been expecting, and he actually feels his hard resolve beginning to falter under the combined force of both your longing gazes.

"We're sorry for neglecting you," you add sweetly, expression earnest as your fingers begin to card through Felix's hair. For a moment, Oliver watches the way Felix's eyes fall closed, leaning into the sensation.

"Can we make it up to you?" Despite Felix's soft voice, his smile was already all kinds of pleased and contented, "we're good at that," he insists. God, Oliver knows all too well that you both are; fucking hell, part of him may never believe this isn't a dream. Except he knows his definitely not dreaming when he feels the delicate touch of your free hand on his knee, moving higher - or as high as you're able given the awkward angle your arm is at.

"Play with us, let us make it up to you," giving Oliver thigh a squeeze you grinned up at him. Without giving him a moment to respond, however, you made a tsk noise in the back of your throat, "you're so overdressed. Fi -" you tap Felix's head gently to get his attention once more, and Felix's eyes open, alight and at attention, "he's so overdressed, don't you think?" Immediately Felix is sitting up, agreeing.

"Think we should help him with that," Felix says frankly, wearing a pleased little grin like he's excited to be helpful. All over-eager and enthusiastic, both you and Felix are suddenly all over Oliver, working together to get him out of his jeans before he can even wonder where he'd lost control of the situation.

Playfully victorious, you're peppering Oliver's face with excited kisses as Felix is kneeling by the bed, tugging the now free jeans down his thighs. Despite the chaos of it all, Oliver's laughing loud and bright, trying his best to get his arms around you to still some of the kinetic love you're showering him with.

"Come on, Ollie," Felix, however, gets caught up halfway through his own job, and presses a kiss to his knee, hands coming to rest, flat and warm on Oliver's thighs, "how'd you expect to get off with those on?" But he sounds so light and joyful; Oliver's heart is fucking singing in this moment.

"Oi, sit," Oliver tries to order between his own laughter and your lips on his every few moments. It takes him another second to claw back some of his composure, "both of you, sit," at least this time you both listen, despite him still radiating breathless amusement.

Felix looks to you for a moment, watches the way you settle yourself, cross-legged and hands in your lap as you fought back a smile, and sits back on his heels, wearing a sheepish grin of his own as he looks back to Oliver. Oliver has to take a moment to compose himself, barely restraining his own laughter, before he kick his pants off from around his ankles. Felix takes the opportunity to then lean in and rest his chin on Oliver's knee, wide, affectionate grin on his face that Oliver practically melts at. He can't help himself -

"Who's a good boy?" He teases Felix, reaching over to scratch at Felix's scalp lightly. Again, Felix eyes close at his nose scrunches with a strange little smile.

"If it's not me I'm actually going to be so upset," he mutters, sounding almost embarrassed by the thought. It takes a moment for his words to sink, and he followed it with a snort of amusement, before all three of you are laughing in the warm privacy of your bedroom, and this moment.

"Of course it's you," Oliver reassures him, coaxing him up onto the bed, shifting to sit back against the headboard with room for you both on either side. Felix looks far less embarrassed and far more pleased now, leaning in when Oliver coaxes him in for a kiss, "my helpful, good boy," Oliver murmurs against his lips, and Felix lets out a breathless, pleased noise as he wraps an arm around Oliver's neck, kissing him back almost desperately. Oliver would always love how Felix was so wonderfully consistent when it came to his praise kink.

Beside him, he can feel you shift on the bed, and in the next moment, your hand is on his thigh. When he and Felix both look to you, breaking their focus on one another, you've settled yourself by Oliver's thighs. Leaning in, you gently nudge at his cock where it's staining against the material of his boxers with your nose, before proceeding to kiss softly up his shaft through the material. Sing when you reach the head, you sit back a little, giving pause as two of your fingers hooked into the elastic of his waistband. Finally met his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly, want in your eyes that has Oliver's already quick heartrate thundering in his chest.

"Thought I told you to sit," he says wryly. You wet your lips, hips shifting a little.

"I am sitting," you pointed out, which set Felix off, had him pressing his amused chuckle against Oliver's shoulder. You did, however, remain obediently still. Except for the challenging smile that graced your lips, "wanted to make up for ignoring you."

Felix's laughter, however, had died down at that, and the hand that had been around Oliver was now trailing feather-light down his bare chest, past your own, to wrap around Oliver's aching hard cock, still trapped behind a thin layer of cotton.

"Just gotta say the word," Felix murmurs into his ear. His hand begins to slowly work up and down Oliver's cock. Oliver watches you lean down and press a kiss to the soft skin of his belly, by his hip, just above his waistband, while Felix was pressing languid kisses along his jaw.

"Both so good to me," Oliver groaned, gently pushing at Felix's shoulder, though he takes the hint and joins you by Oliver's thighs.

A moment passes between you both, Felix taking your face in his free hand and pulling you in for an intense kiss that only somehow manages to make Oliver even more painfully turned on than he already was. Both still half dressed, you're both practically overflowing with love for each other and Oliver in this moment. The kiss breaks and youre both grinning foreheads pressed together; Oliver's never been truly able to read the exact things that pass between you in these moments of silent communication, but he thinks he sees 'see, I told you this was fun' in the way you smile.

And as much as he adores this moment, he's pretty sure if someone doesn't actually touch his dick soon he's going to die.

"'s there a reason you're keeping me waiting?" Oliver asks archly; Felix's grin grows wider, while you give him a faintly guilty smile, apologising softly before you pull down his boxers. Finally.

Oliver's hips buck the second your fingers wrap around him, leaning down with intent to -

"Hey!" Felix almost sounds indignant that you'd taken his place, a thought which sends a thrill through Oliver. You look up at this, but the minute you're distracted Felix has bent down to run his tongue along the head of Oliver's cock, tasting the precum beading there before he's taking Oliver into his mouth.

"Fi, that's cheating!" You whined, pouting with your free hand braced against Oliver's thigh - "Ollie, Fi's cheating!" You pouted, to which Felix raised his head to defend himself, gleefully and entirely submersed in this roleplay.

"I'm not cheating," he tried to declare, however you dipped down in an attempt to usurp him. Felix, seemingly anticipating this, refuses to move, instead letting you headbutt him, the two of you in a playful stalemate while you attempted to keep up a consistent rhythm with your hand still on Oliver's cock. Tension, with neither of you backing down, breaks only when one of you - though Oliver's genuinely not sure which - seems to realise the reality of the situation, and how close you both are, and suddenly you're aggressively making out.

Not in Oliver's wildest dreams would he ever have imagined that he could have the two of you fighting over who gets the privilege of going down on him. It's going to take all of his willpower if he wants to last much longer. But he needs to last at least a bit longer, needs to take back control, to make sure this plays out well for both of you too.

So Oliver calls your name, and you and Felix break apart. Your eyes are on Oliver, wide eyed and breathing hard.

"No fighting," he chided, and you wet your lips, sitting back a little as Felix takes this as his victory. Oliver coaxes you up to him, part of him sad to lose the feeling of your talented fingers around him, but Felix is more than capable, and more than makes up for it. Oliver wraps an arm around you, his free hand guiding one of yours to Felix's head as it bobbed up and down between Oliver's thighs, "you're going to help him, you can do that, can't you?" His words are gentle, commanding, and even as you still seem to be playing at sulking, you give a small nod. Felix groans appreciatively as your grip tightens on his hair, which Oliver echoes as he feels it himself.

You're beginning to squirm. Good. He's been utterly thrilled by how tonight has been playing out, but Oliver always enjoys when you finally fall into being desperately obedient. He wants to show Felix how good of a dog you really are.

Oliver pulls you in closer, nose to nose, smirking as the playful fight in you was giving way quickly to pure desire.

"Our good boy, isn't he? Our Felix," Oliver's voice is loud enough for you both to hear; Felix moans around his cock, shifting to get a better angle, to take Oliver deeper, as deep as he can. Your breath catches, pupils blown wide. There was something truly, almost sickeningly fascinating about what he could only describe as your Praise-Kink-By-Proxy; you clearly got off to the way Oliver lusted over Felix, that much was made clear that night in the bathtub at Saltburn, and Oliver could see it in your eyes again now.

"Our Felix," you'd mumbled breathlessly, casting your gaze to him as Oliver lazily trialled kisses down your jaw and throat. Felix doesn't stop, your hand on his head still making sure he keeps a consistent rhythm, but he does look up, does meet your lust-filled gaze, does see how your hips and thigh are shifting. Oliver brings your gaze back to him by tugging at his chain around your throat, and it's all you need to kiss him. He doesn't let it go. Sloppy and passionate, he moans Felix's name into your mouth and you whimper desperately at the sound. His hips are rolling, matching Felix's rhythm as his cockhead presses insistently against the back of his throat, and you're panting and whining and unable to find any real relief -

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Oliver murmured sharply the minute he feels you reaching for the waistband of your own pants with your free hand. You whimpered, and his grip on the chain around your neck grows tighter. Squeezing your eyes closed as you shook your head, traitorous hand moving to dig your fingernails into your thigh, "are you going to settle down for me?" He whispered, lips brushing yours as you squirmed helplessly.

"This is unfair," you moaned, and Oliver's grip around you grew tighter, "Ollie, please -"

"You fucking love when I'm unfair to you," he hissed with an almost cruel smugness as you gasped, hips beginning to roll and rutt against nothing.

"Ollie, don't be mean," Felix raised his head, hand going still on Oliver's desperately twitching cock, an actual note of warning in his voice. Oliver smirks at him, all lazy, arrogant confidence. He maneuvers you, pulls you back from him to let Felix properly see the way your lip is beginning to tremble with how desperate you were for satisfaction or even just a hint of relief. Still, you tried to press yourself against him, even as your back arched wantonly and your thighs pressed together, shifting in search of friction that was still upsetting absent from where you desired it most.

"You think I'm being too mean right now?" Oliver whispered in your ear; unfortunately for you, Oliver knows all too well how much you love this game. After a moment of hesitation, your gaze locked with Felix's. It's as if you're embarrassed to be seen in this state, the way you'd so willingly let Oliver drive you mad with desire. Averting your gaze from Felix's, you swallow hard.

"No," the single word comes out as a sulky kind of whimper.

"And why's that?" Oliver prompted, adding slyly, "you made Felix worry." He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

"He's -" you tired your head back with a desperate groan as Oliver raked the nails of his free hand up your side, "he's always good to me in the end." You pouted, clearly still thinking it was unfair being denied in the moment.

"You promise?" Felix asks firmly, looking Oliver in the eyes now.

"Promise," Oliver smirks back, whispering against your skin that if you're a good for him, he'll let Felix play with you. The desperate noise that escapes you is incredibly telling, and one Oliver knows all too well as the indication that you were on the edge of being incoherent. Good, he loves getting you to this point, and loves even more the way Felix is looking at you right now.

"You're doing so well, Felix, don't keep them waiting," Oliver insisted. At that you reached out once more, hand coming to rest on Felix's head, petting him gently before he allowed you to guide him back down to Oliver's spit-slicked and waiting cock. Oliver's grip on the chain shifts, the metal loose between his fingers as he carefully, delicately, wraps his hand around your throat. Your pleading expression is so deliciously needy when Oliver pulls you back in against him.

"Good dog," he presses the praise against your trembling lips.

It's like a beautiful symphony, better than any wet dream or fantasy he'd ever had, and he hadn't even fucked either of you yet. He moans Felix's name into your mouth when he finally comes undone, his hand resting on yours atop Felix's hair as he takes it all and swallows every last drop.

"So fucking good, Felix," Oliver's breathing hard as he comes down from the euphoric high he'd just experienced, scratching gently at Felix's scalp as he raised his head, pleased grin on his face. When Felix sits up, out of both of your grips, your hand immediately goes between your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but still fighting the urge, trapping it while still making your intent obvious.

But while Oliver is more than satisfied, you, tucked up against him, are all but a mess as he cradled you close.

"Come on, Ollie," Felix climbs over his legs to be by your side. His smile is warm and fond, and when Felix's hand comes to rest on your hip, your soft, whining noises become more audible, "the poor thing deserves a treat."

Oliver feels the way you shiver and tense with anticipation at Felix's words, nose then bumping insistently against Oliver's jaw, keening noises catching in your throat. You were begging in the only way you have left, now that you'd found yourself deep enough in this headspace.

"Look at him," Oliver murmured, sounding almost proud as you turned your desperate, hopeful gaze upon Felix, "he's even being good to you."

Taking it as a blessing, you're immediately scrambling to your knees by Felix, no longer whining, and clearly overjoyed. One hand pulling him in for a kiss, your other was frantically trying to remove your pants.

"Not ignoring you," Felix insisted to Oliver as you'd broken the kiss if only to pitch yourself back on the bed in an effort to wriggle desperately out of your pants, "just -"

"Settle down," Oliver ordered suddenly, and you suddenly went still, ceasing the way you'd been fighting with your pants around your ankles, "help them, Felix," she sighs with fond exasperation. Of course Felix does, but it's like a switch has flipped; he's back on board, a good dog still, just like you. Once your pants are off, Felix is trailing kisses up your legs, much to your clear glee -

"You puppies are so stupid," Oliver shakes his head, affection in his words, "you're lucky you're cute," but still both of you turn to him with a a sad kind of confusion. Oliver tries not to laugh, he really tries, you're both somehow hot and adorable at the same time, "Felix, you're still wearing pants."

Somehow, this seems to surprise both of you, and again you're up 'I can help, I can help, I can help' radiating enthusiastically from you as you make quick work of finally undoing Felix's fly, as you'd attempted to earlier in the evening. The two of you share soft giggles as Felix's hard cock is freed and his pants are tossed to the side, leaving him standing on the floor at the edge of the bed where you're up on your knees, looking up at him. Like this, he still manages to dwarf you, and Oliver watches with an aroused fascination as this moment plays out.

Felix doesn't speak, it's as if he's matching your energy, understanding your headspace, he's confident and even cocky in a way that Oliver doesn't often see from him. He remembers saying 'if you're good, I'll let Felix play with you' and it seemed some primative part of Felix's mind has taken that to heart as he held tight to the chain around your throat, leaning in with an unmistakable huger in his eyes. It has you practically melting, hands on his hips, not daring to stray further without his approval. He doesn't even kiss you, he holds you at bay with his lips inches from yours and a hand firm on your collar, drinking in your desperation. You begin to whimper again, shifting your weight back and forth, hips rocking in anticipation; Oliver's sure he'll be able to see the marks your nails leave on Felix's hips when you finally let go.

Another silent conversation between you both, but so clear, so loud, so simple Oliver can hear it loud and clear. Felix is telling you, in no uncertain terms, that in this moment you are his, and every part of you agrees. Yet Oliver knows with a smug, self satisfaction, that he with one word you would both be by his side. So he'll let you both have this.

A year ago, he would have paid his entire life savings and then some to get to see you two in a moment like this. Already, he's getting hard again; a familiar, voyeuristic thrill runs through him as he drinks you both in, taking his cock in hand.

Felix barely has to tip his head, letting go of your necklace, before you're moving quickly, a moment vague and indecipherable to anyone else is a clear directive for you to turn. It's a flurry of movement after that, of Felix's hands on you, on your hips to pull you close, your lower back to have you bending, face pressed to the mattress. Your ass in the air, presented to him perfectly, he slides into you, drawing unholy noises from you both after so long spent waiting already that night.

Oliver basks in this moment, can only imagine how good you must feel right now, all tight and warm and completely and utterly desperate to be filled. Felix's groan is its own kind of beautiful, finally finding his voice again as absolutely filthy praise spills from his lips. Hips rocking back to meet each of Felix's slow, deep thrusts, your breathing is shaky amid the low, pleased noises that escape you. Beautiful, a creature of mindless want and desire, you've got one shaking hand between your thighs as the other reaches out, searching blindly for Oliver.

Face pressed into the plush duvet, you link your fingers with Oliver's the moment he reaches out to you. Your grip is tight, and he runs his thumbs in comforting rhythms against your hands, something pleased, loving, and so fucking turned on as Felix was quickly coming to fuck you like an absolute animal. The way you so desperately craved.

"Perfect," Felix moaned, "god you're so fucking perfect for us, pet, aren't you?" Nodding weakly, as much as your able, you clutch at Oliver's hand; his teasing had clearly already worked you up, brought you close. Both of you.

"Our good dog," Oliver murmurs, just to hear you whimper.

Fuck, he can't wait to watch you come undone.

Can't wait to make you both sit, roll over, beg.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

I so often think about what the tone of scene with the backless book would have looked like in the Six of Crows spin off.

In Six of Crows, when the crew arrive in Djerholm they go to an Inn and sit on the terrace to give them a clear, if distant, view of the road that leads to the Ice Court, and Kaz uses a device he calls a 'backless book' to see the prison wagon on the road with perfect clarity - it looks like a perfeclty normal book until you hold it open on a specific page at a specific angle. He passes the book around without telling anyone that it is actually a mirrored lens so that no-one else on the terrace will know what they're talking about, and when Wylan is offered the book by Jesper he initially refuses to take it. He asks 'What does it say?' and Jesper replies 'Just look'. In this scene everyone, including the reader, is yet to learn that Wylan cannot read and therefore this line doesn't have any particular impact on us in the moment, except as a continuation of the idea that Wylan feels uncomfortable and that the others tend to be impatient with him for the way he doesn't fit into their world. But imagine what this scene would look like with the added subtext that Jesper already knows he can't read but the others don't! AND the added subtext they already have an established relationship!!

Imagine the panic in Wylan's eyes slowly growing as the book moves round the group, imagine the hesitation in his voice as he asks Jesper what it says, imagine Jesper softening his voice to reassure him as he gently tells him that he just has to look.

And on this same vein, imagine Jesper beginning to piece together why Wylan 'left' his father's house early on. Imagine Jesper standing on the deck of the Ferolind with Inej as she quietly tells him that Van Eck writes to Wylan every week and Wylan doesn't even open the letters, the way she'd study him as she noticed that he knew something more than her but would never pry. Imagine the way the tone would change for when Wylan is drawing the maps of the Ice Court and says he hasn’t labelled anything because he doesn’t know Fjerdan, despite the fact that he’s already revealed he speaks Fjerdan - in the book no-one questions it and I think that’s partly due to Jesper mocking him and saying that he probably doesn’t speak it well (it’s confirmed later that he does) and partly due to the way he doesn’t fit in and the others aren’t really paying him much attention; it’s a brief moment the reader doesn’t put much stock into until they find out that Wylan can’t read at the end of the book. The added dimension of us already having that subtext would have been absolutely fascinating and I am so so upset we don’t get to see it play out, especially since we would probably have a lot of Wesper angst going on as well - I’m imaging the way Wylan would fear Jesper ratting him out or turning on him because he lied to him and being so shocked that he doesn’t and just not understanding the way he still cares about him or that he would still protect him because he doesn’t know what it feels like to be loved I’m gonna cry

[hunnysnoops]

Main Three + Craig with morbid/odd reader

“I want love to change my friends to enemies and tell me how it’s all my fault.”

Stan:

He lets you draw on him but instead of doodling you take a black marker and start to meticulously draw dotted lines and arrows like you’re a surgeon prepping him for cosmetic surgery.

While helping him with farm chores you go into detail about how you can compost and break down a corpse in soil, he just kinda nods along.

You give him tarot readings every week. He thought they were fake and just did it to entertain you until his week played out exactly like you said it would. When he realized he just froze up and went non verbal.

Stan- “Hey, do you have any spells to curse my dad?”

Met him when he was in his goth era.

The two of you were having a moment in the rain when you told him that he should’ve worn shoes with rubber soles in case he gets struck by lightning.

You started writing his eulogy when you were laying in bed together, bro was trying not to freak out. Just spam texted Kyle.

You’re date idea is taking him to an abandoned house.

You guys bonded over music. Now you help him write songs since you’re so used to writing poetry.

Reader- “You’re into music?”

Stan- “Yeah, I guess so.”

Reader- “Have you heard Carnival of the Animals, R. 125: Aquarium composed by Camille Saint-Saëns and performed by Philippe Entremont, Gaby Casadesus, and Yo-Yo Ma?”

Stan- “Can’t say I have.”

Kyle:

Has veiny arms so when the two of you are just chilling you’ll put your finger on one of the veins and start talking about what would happen if you severed it. He’s lowkey interested from a scientific standpoint.

You’ll straddle his hips and pull his lips back to look at his teeth, poking around in his mouth like a dentist. You’re inches apart.

Reader- “Wow, you have beautiful teeth.”

Kyle- “Thank you?”

He’s kinda fascinated by you but also repulsed by some of the things you do/say.

He came to your house and you were butchering your own meat, left right away.

You listen to The Cure together.

When you climb trees to look for birds and squirrels he’ll climb too to help you.

Will get mad annoyed after listening to you say incredibly out of pocket things while he’s trying to focus on something.

He’ll buy you little knickknacks that remind him of you.

Before he got to know you, he talked mad shit.

Sometimes gets super freaked out by your behaviour, you straight up give him the heebie-jeebies.

Reader- “So this is my collection of human teeth.”

Kyle- “All of those are yours, right?”

Reader- “Actually, none of them are mine.” 😁

Kyle- 😨

Kenny:

Sits through horror movies and weird foreign films with you. He didn’t like it at first but he came around and started sourcing out movies he’d think you like.

You took him to a Wicca ceremony and he had the time of his life.

You taught him how to make flower crowns and now he makes them all the time. He likes to give them to Karen.

When he sees something off-putting or creepy he will immediately take a picture and send it to you.

Reader- “Hey, it’s raining. Do you want to go look for earth worms and build a worm colosseum?”

Kenny- “Hell yeah.”

He likes to go for walks in the forest with you, you guys will look for bugs and pick them up or make them houses of leaves and twigs.

He’ll help you wash the skulls/bones you find.

Never really minded that you were weird, he approached you first because he thought you were hot.

He loves when you play with his hair and tie little braids into it.

You guys tried to recreate The Blair Witch Project but failed miserably when you actually got lost in the woods.

You’ll meet up at the graveyard and just sit in the grass while you talk about ghosts and ghouls. Sometimes you’ll walk around and stop at a specific grave and guess how they died.

Reader- “Would you rather be in Cannibal Holocaust or The Poughkeepsie Tapes?”

Kenny- “Erm, I gotta pick The Poughkeepsie Tapes.”

Craig:

Generally goes along with whatever you want to do.

Reader- “Can we go down to the riverbank to pickup fish heads and then eat out their eyes?”

Craig- “Yeah, sure.”

He’ll just watch you roll around in the mud or set little twig piles on fire, he won’t join in but he also won’t interfere.

You’ll talk to Stripe, not in the baby voice that people usually use to talk to animals but your tone will be dead serious like you’re talking to a grown adult.

The two of you will watch true crime documentaries together.

He’ll fuck up anyone who calls you weird or a freak.

When you’re out in public, you’ll point someone out and predict how they’re going to die.

There’s nothing you can do that’ll shock him, he’s unfazed by everything that you say.

Sometimes gets concerned with you around Stripe.

You’ll disappear for hours at a time and he’ll get worried, sending you a million texts then you’ll randomly show up at his door soaking wet or covered in dirt with no warning.

Craig- “Where have you been? You weren’t answering my texts.”

Reader- “I was meeting with a friend of mine who is alive.”

Craig- “Oh, that’s cool.”

Requests are open! I’m working through a couple right now. Thanks to the anon who requested this.

[balloooonn]

GRAVITY FALLS X EDDSWORLD !! ★

HEYA GUYS GIRLS NON BINARY NO GENDER ALL OF YOU HOW ARE YOU!!! (Long text aheadd!) (Plus grammatic isn't that good I think, apologizes for that)

So I can't stop combining my fixations together. I had to mix Eddsworld with Gravity Falls, since this last one revived haha. Sorry not sorry! As I said on Instagram, this is TOTALLY NOT an excuse for making eduarjon/jonuardo... Yeah, yeah totally not... Anyways, look at these guys, Eduardo as stanford, Jon as mcgucket!!

I have to say these are just my own, personal interpretations for the characters. It's totally OK if you don't think the same as me!! I made this for fun, and oh boy It was so fun while making it and deciding which characters could fit in each other's papers.

Let me show you some more!! :D

To my surprise (not really LOL), I searched if anyone made the same in the past, and I found out they thought exactly the same as me! Tom is dipper, Matilda is Mabel, Stanley is Edd and Stanford is Eduardo. Makes sense to me.

And I thought it would be funnier (and better!) if instead of normal Edd, it was Future Edd. Thinking about an old man like Future Edd, who just wants to die but has to maintain a work for 30 years just to re-meet his brother... That makes me laugh, for some reason. XDD Look at his face. Poor guy!

And for Bill, well, guess who is it here? Tord, because I couldn't think about anyone else! And it wouldn't make sense if he had a human design, because you know what kind of interdimensional, two-dimensional triangle without real physical form he is. Mm, maybe I'm wrong and he could actually have a human form. Should I try making a design for Tord Cipher later?

That one looks silly! He's just Bill, technically red, has a weird hat and Tord's typical band-aid at the right. Didn't know how to draw this one haha

That's all for now! I'm thinking about the other characters. For now, in my mind, Laurel is Wendy, but mmmmm I don't agree too much, idk. Diwi could be Soos, and I'd LOVE seeing Bing and Larry as the stupid police xD

And MAAAAAYBE an unpopular opinion and somewhat obvious?, But I'd love mixing Eddsworld and Gravity Falls characters personalities together and other things that make them unique, not just switching them fully. What I try to say is, for example, I imagine Edd having his obsession with cola as always, Eduardo with diet cola as well. Edd could have his lucky can, somewhere, and he's just as pathetic as Stanley, despite he's usually more pessimistic, dark and irritable than him sometimes. Tom still haves that sarcastic, rude? essence, but is fascinated with mistery and you know, the weird things that happens in town! And he still conservates liking ska bands. You know, some ideas like that!

Just sharing my silly ideas here. Hope you like it :3 ! Thanks for watching.

[py-dreamer]

So... I know I'm late...

But yea! I said I was coming back with some stickers and I kept my word! I would've hoped that I could've completed the sheet in like a day but as you can see...that didn't work out

I know I've been a bit MIA lately but burnout sucks. I do have a lot of WIPS I really want to work on but again, it seems that the ProcrastiNation hath struck my feeble mortal brain again.

But anyways:

I headcanon Aroace Mei, just a personal headcanon (disagree if you like) I also like lesbian Mei but thought I'd give some aroace appreciation

Silktea was only given 1 episode but OH BOY did it fuel our wild shipping habits. And I jumped on the bandwagon. It's a reference to that scene in She-Ra where Scorpia tells Catra she 'didn't want to do this' then wraps kitty up in the blankey and cradles her like a wee baby. And Sandy would do that for any friend, I will die on this hill

Saw a fanart where Mk had a pig nose themed pacifier and I just yoinked that idea. The pig hoodie and the pacifier seems like something Tang would do for Pigsy (also to get away with free noodles cause who can say no to that face?~)

Mac showing Wukong the lantern. What can I say, mans' fascinated by them pretty lights. Though our little performer's eyes seem to be straying from the show (^u ')

I know many people have issues with shipping with Nezha and such and I know the two had a rough history but y'know what fans do; they love to make the people who kill each other soulmates (platonic, romantic or otherwise) Even if it wasn't romantic, I still love the idea of them being buddies and just chilling, the danger noodle prince and the angy prince snuggle and watch a movie (mainly from Nezha 2019 but I also saw New Gods and can I just say, I want those two twinks to bicker then kiss awkwardly and I want Yun Xiang to BEAT. HIS. ASS) but in case anyone asks, I do perceive Nezha to be a consenting adult in general outside shipping drama and if the two are adults, it does make my heart squeal when I see these two hold hands and whatnot

HOW COULD I EVER FORGET MY SPICYBOIS, inspired by that one Ponyo kiss scene. I was actually gonna make a bigger piece but then I saw someone do it already in a much better fashion than I ever could and I just gave up on the idea but Ig here, its just like the two cakes mentality and I gave it a go. Hope I could do the concept justice

Have spider queen or scorpion queen ever interacted before? No. But they are both queens and I believe Spider Queen's confidence could rub off on Scorpion Queen and she'd appreciate the company of Spider Queen's children henchmen. Also she give yummy food so lesbian venomqueens for the win

Redraw of that moment with Peng and Azure. I normally detest that bird but these two do get some gears grinding and whatever anyone says. Neither of those two are straight. I'll tell ya that.

Toxicinsanity is another rarepair that had like 1 sec screen time. I don't think they'd ever work out in canon and had virtually no chemistry. I still love all the fluffy ship content I can find of them though and if it ever were to happen. I think the mayor would scare the sh!t out of Syntax

Let's get at least one hetero couple here, Chang'e and Hou'Yi are a couple of favorites ngl, I took most of their outfits from Over the moon cause both of them looked stunning, Chang'e especially. I've seen people ship mah girl with other people and while I do agree it's healthy to move on, in my heart she will always long for Hou'Yi

Also irl, on valentines, my mum took us out for lunch, she treated us to bubble tea and donuts. We walked home so I waited to drink mah drink in my room while I drew and I accidentally finished it all... I'm so sorry mum

f*ck I forgot ironbull. Uhh....I'll draw something later, rn I need to go to bed before I get yelled at...

click pic for less sh!ty quality!

[moonshinemusings]

Random TF 141 + friends headcanons (Pt.2)

Warnings: none

• Soap makes amazing pancakes. There are many videos of him trying to flip them over and failing, but that's not the point-

• Speaking of, Farah has so many vids that can be used as blackmail. She can never catch Price or Ghost doing something dumb enough for it, but the others are unfortunate victims

• König loves butterflies. Most bugs freak him out, but he finds them beautiful and peaceful. At the same time he loves bees, he really does, but he's really scared of being stung (even though it has never happened before)

• Roach, being true to his name, finds bugs really fascinating. He owns at least one metal pin of a roach that's for sure. The others also often gift him little things resembling insects

• Alejandro and Rodolfo used to sit on the roof and watch the stars together a lot as kids

• Gaz really likes swimming, especially when he can do it in the sea

• The team has UNO nights where the table ends up flipped over regularly (usually by Alejandro)

• Soap shouldn't be taken to the cinema because he talks through the movies. All. The. Time.

• Farah is really clumsy in heels since she never needed to learn how to walk in them. She'd rather die than try though. Meanwhile, Valeria could run and kill a man without ever worrying about falling or breaking her ankles

• And honestly? I think Gaz would rock the heels too, if only after a little practice

• Ghost finds sharks fascinating, especially the aspect of how many people are scared of them when they are mostly harmless

• Soap, Gaz and Alex really enjoy the Deadpool movies, they often quote lines at each other

• Graves is a Backstreet Boys enjoyer (honestly can't blame him)

• Rodolfo adores those little, fluffy white dogs that look like rats whenever they are bathed

• Put Soap in a dance circle and he's going to make a fool out of himself, but somehow slay at the same time

• Alex likes drawing tattoo ideas that he wants to get later, or simply just feel like making. Doodling calms him

• Farah takes zero shit (like Gaz), so when there is a banter with someone it can quickly turn into a heated argument or some firm words from her

• Price is a certified McDonald's hater. Calls it fake food and complains about the quality and taste constantly

• Ghost likes horror movies and laughs at them, but only when they don't have some specific scenes (I don't think I have to elaborate)

• Soap has random shit on him all the time. Once he pulled out a lollipop from his vest and started eating it on the heli towards a mission

• Most of the team plays Hay Day. They are on each other's friend lists, but Rodolfo is the only one who actually helps the others

• Alejandro builds his farm like he would in real life and tries to make it realistic, while Rudy does the same. He cares more about the cute animals though, he probably has like 10 dogs and cats

• Gaz tried to get Price to play, but he cut his whole career short because the Captain started to get obsessed and wouldn't put the phone down

• Soap always brags about how good his farm is, meanwhile Ghost quietly sits in the background with like +30 levels on him. He often plays when he can't sleep so he's ahead of everyone

• Alex and Farah kind of bond over the game, they have one shared account because neither of them spend too much time playing. They often have childish arguments over things like where they should put certain decorations, but always end up finding a compromise (Alex lets her get away with a lot in this sense)

[vaguely-concerned]

UNHINGED DISTANT VOICES THOUGHTS (or: now we don't have time to unpack all of that julian but --)

this ep has such a banger concept (several banger concepts that should have had an ep all to themselves, really), even if its overall implementation is pretty mid. the idea that julian seems to readily believe that the most central voices inside him are aggression, fear/suspicion, doubt, confidence/sense of adventure, professionalism... and garak, being surprisingly, seductively good at tennis and taking care of him :}

in a doylist perspective I don't think this is well-crafted enough to read into it too deeply before it starts to fall gently apart, but through a watsonian lens and my fannish heart this is fucking fascinating fdsjka. where. where are all the positive feelings and sides of you that aren't about bickering with garak julian. are you okay julian. I like that since the augment storyline hadn't been conceived of yet at this point, you could look back and justify Julian's surge of confidence at the end as him realizing the lethean hasn't been able to get that deep in his mind to find what that whole mess must look like in his brain. 'you don't understand me half as well as you think you do' gains such depth, basically accidentally

'I'm a part of you, remember? I know what you know. Well... maybe a little more.'

'Still the man of mystery?'

'Oh, you wouldn't have me any other way.'

what. the FUCK fhdskjha. what's more gay, the lethean having picked through bashir's brains for this characterization of garak and their relationship (that Bashir easily buys and depends on through the ep), or him seeing half a minute max of julian and garak having lunch and uh. drawing his own conclusions, apparently. wild stuff)

Isn't this also the first time we see Julian actually play tennis with someone? All the other times it's been racquetball, right? Well well. Interesting. is all I'll say.

avery brooks does SUCH a good job changing his voice in this to match julian's doctor voice, I almost jumped in surprise when he was talking b/c that certainly isn't sisko's voice coming out of sisko's mouth

garak alternatingly going 'now -- what do you want me to do?' in a very... willing directable sort of way and telling julian that he's a good boy doing good and being so supportive and attentive and that's how the lethean tries to keep julian's shields down the longest. many thoughts. few of them PG.

JULIAN'S REASONING THAT THIS REALLY ISN'T GARAK -- NOT EVEN HIS MIND'S VERSION OF GARAK -- IS THAT THIS GARAK ISN'T COMPETENT ENOUGH FSDKJFHKSDJ. and he sounds so petulant about it too. 'the real garak would have this fixed for me a long time ago if I just batted my eyelashes and told him I thought cylon pareg's body of work was very interesting and layered :'( I miss him'

jazdia julian BROtp got me crying in quark's tonight, this was such a good direction to take that relationship. I know they kind of fuck it up again in s7 but y'know I'll take the good stuff while it's here haha

julian makes for such an amazing crotchety old man im love him

julian has a near-lethal stress dream about turning 30 and being bisexual. it's weird but very entertaining, and garak is there

[honey-minded-hivemind]

The lost episodes being more slow paced, filler like episodes with that have a strong vibe that something (or someone) is missing.

One episode is the younger members cleaning a bedroom in the mansion as punishment as it hasnt been used in a while and has a thich layer of dust and them getting distracted with all the cool and potentially dangerous stuff in there. Apparently, it's that mystery character's room, but, again, they never actually show up. Just have somber scene as everyone contemplates their friends, and someone mentions how much older they must be now. Reader think this character has good taste since the room looks very close to their own style ( and looks very familiar)

Another is that Jubilee (or another younger character) is hiding something in her closet, which is close to bursting. It's all these clothes given as gifts from the mystery character. But she's outgrown them and feels like awful that she's losing her connection to them, but she needs to get rid of them as she doesn'thave any space. It has a sweet message about letting go and always having someone in your heart, but Reader kinda wishes they got to see episodes of Jubilee wearing the clothes, they think they would have look good on her.

One episode is Xavier( or another adult) working himself near to death trying to find the character, and everyone worrying. It ends with a heavy hint of them being found as the adult stares into the screen with heavy relief. Reader swears their eyes dig into their soul.

Yes! I like it! I'll add a little to each one, if that's okay! (anyone who wants to add an idea for a filer episode, feel free to share your idea!) ( @thewickedweiner and @vivid-bun and @weebwholovesuchihasasuke!)

Episode One?: The younger characters stumble into a room that looks like it hasn't seen the light in years. A few posters line the walls, the bed has thick comforter and blankets in grays and brown and reds, there's old drawing books and classic literature on a nightstand, even a box of trinkets and a few clothes and items hidden in a closet. A thick layer of dust covers everything, causing several characters to sneeze. Some items are pretty cool, for example: fossilized clam shells, tumbled rocks, old books, animal feathers, shiny trinkets. And some are probably not as safe, such as: a knife they found, a notebook full of... it doesn't show... and a box full of old items that Logan and Morph are quick to tuck somewhere else. The characters mention some good old times, fighting alongside this mystery character, watching them grow, having fun outside of saving the day, old habits they had... They sound really cool to Reader, who notes their room is comforting, in shades that make them feel relaxed and at home, with items they'd find fascinating... Yet the episode is somber, with no one knowing where this character is or what happened to them, let alone if they're still alive... But it ens with the team promising to find them, and one or another putting things to rest, no matter what they find... (It leaves a sad feeling inside Reader, as well as a discomfort and feeling of dread...)

• Episode 12??: Jubilee is trying to hold onto the memory of the missing character or a friend of her's, but she can't hold onto the past forever. It's a needed message, one to help deal with grief amf moving on in a healthy way (or so Reader thinks). Jubilee has old clothes she can no longer wear, but were gifts from her friend, so she doesn't want to give them up. But she's reminded that her friend is still with her, and would want her to be okay, and that it's okay to move on, because they'll always be a part of you, always have a place in your heart. It's touching, making you smile a little, epically when the others comfort her...

• Episode 23???: What seems to be a final episode of the lost seasons (at least the first lost season, anyways) where Xavier and a few if the others have been working nonstop, trying to find this missing character, who's been mentioned the last season or two amd throughout the entire series, and everyone is afraid to hold onto that hope, wanting to either move on or run themselves ragged trying to find any trace of them... You watch with bated breath as the episode plays out, as various characters, even some villains or side characters, get involved... The team keeps trying to assure Xavier and each other they've done the best they can, that there's only so much they can do, that no one blame them for what happened- Amd then the last few minutes of the epsidoe depict a heavy hint that the characters found a clue, or that their friend was alive... and they were staring out at the screen again, as though they could see through it, too...

(I imagine a few episodes explore dealing with grief, guilt, and heavier emotions, while others show different places they've gone before with their missing friend, even a few where the villains or side characters get a day-in-the-limelight episode) (And some of what was in the box that Logan and Morph took, what was in the notebook, and a few hints as to what the missing character might have been like or little nicknames for them) (and Kevin is no help, playing the tapes whenever they're at the ReelTheatre, and jokes about not spoiling anything too early for Reader) (They walk Reader home one night, and are so glad to spend extra time with them!) (Bonus: some of the characters visit Reader or enter their home when they're asleep)

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Shadows Entwined: Part 2

BatmanVsTmnt!Leonardo x sidekick!reader

Part 1 / Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Bonus (18+)

In which both Leo and reader get grilled by their families, because of the "pretty eyes".

Warnings: Spelling, loong.

The reader and the turtles are 19.

—--------------------------------------

“They call him… The Batman”, Donnie said, reading from his computer screen, causing Leo to break from his starting contest with the wall. He didn’t even remember how he got to staring at the wall. He remembers returning to the abandoned cafe with his brothers, after their meeting with this, Batman and… her. She had said his eyes were pretty. No way she actually meant it. Not with eyes like hers. They were… Leo did not know how to describe them… deep? Colorful? Lively? Filled with emotion-, oh this is how he ended up zoning out in the first place.

Leo was once again pulled out of his thoughts, as Raph started yelling about how stupid it was to use half an hour to google something he could have guessed in seconds.

“I’ve read rumors about a supernatural bat creature in Gotham, but I assumed that he was an urban legend, or that he was a mutant like us”, Donnie said deeply fascinated.

“That guy was definitely human”, Leo finally spoke. “And I think his super natural powers are just his gadgets. Anything about the girl?” Leo could see Raph facepalm out of the corner of his eye.

“Nothing”, Donnie said. “Only stuff about this Batman, or whatever he is”. Why did that pull down on Leo’s mood? No information about her at all?

“We already know what he is!” Mikey was practically dancing at the whiteboard. “He’s awesome!... Unless he’s a bad guy… That would make him… 40% less awesome”. Leo could already tell by the look on Raph’s face that he wanted to punch their little brother all the way back to New York.

“No one knows his motives, but it does appear that he only attacks criminals”, Donnie continued. “Especially this clown guy”.

“So he wears a Dracula costume and punches clowns. Who cares?!”, yelled Raph. “The dirtbag stole my sai!”

“Dracula costume? What kind of Dracula movies have you been watching?”, Donnie muttered.

“Is that why that girl hang around him?!”, Mikey yelled from his whiteboard, jumping with the same enthusiasm he had shown ever since they arrived in Gotham. “He has bitten her and now she is under his control? This city just gets better and better!”

“I don’t think so Mikey. She did say Leo had pretty eyes”, Donnie said. “Hypothetically, I don’t think a human under vampire control would say that. I actually don’t even think vampires in fiction can control people like that…”

Leo already hated this conversation.

“Look all I’m saying is Shredder stole the ooz from TCRI and came to Gotham, we know he’s been working with a new partner, right? It’s gotta be this bat creep and that Leo loving sidekick he has around”, Raph said, exasperated.

Leo remained unmoving with his arms crossed, but the mentioning of the girl made something move in his stomach.

“I’m not so sure”, Leo said. “The way they fought, avoiding lethal blows. They wanted to figure us out. Like a detective".

“She wanted to figure you out”, Raph mumbled, just loud enough for Leo to hear it. Leo would have spoken up, and Mikey not done it first.

“Okay bros. I broke it down”, he said, pointing to his drawings on the whiteboard. “Awesome: Little bat throwing things, cool car, sweet hat, Leo’s first girlfriend. Not awesome: Kicked our butts, may be evil, mean voice, Leo’s first heartbreak”.

“Either way”, Leo broke in, before giving his brothers any chance to add on to Mikey’s whiteboard Batman and sidekick breakdown. “After Wayne Enterprises, we have no idea where the Foot will be next. The Batman is our only lead”.

Donnie nodded. “Whether friend or foe, he and his sidekick was at the scene of the crime. And if you give me a minute, I think I’ve gotten an idea”.

---

“I was right outside!” you yelled like a spoiled child, waving your arms in the air, while Batman carefully looked at the magnifying glass in front of him, a sample he had taken from the sai laying in the little glass tray. “I did nothing but watch those metahumans kick Penguin’s butt! I could have helped you!”

“I did not need help”, Batman said, stoic as he always was when wearing that mask. “I had it under control”.

“That blood in your mouth said otherwise”, you sighed leaning against the deck next to you. This man was stubborn and you knew it. It was no use fighting him on his opinions, as it would be a losing battle for anyone except him.

You heard the familiar sound of a grappling against metal, and saw as Batgirl made her way out of the air vent.

“Heard on the scanner that the police took in some of Penguin’s men. Said they were jumped by four crazy frogs. I assume those were my lizard guys”, she said.

“Your lizard guys are strange”, you told Batgirl.

“They are turtles”, Batman said, pressing keys on the computer keyboard. “And the DNA on this weapon suggests they were mutated by an outside agent”.

“Mutant ninja turtles”. You raised a brow. “And me who thought Gotham couldn’t get any stranger”.

“The technology the ninjas have already stolen could be used to refine a mutagen like that”, Batgirl noted. “But why?”

“The cloud-seeder is the last piece of the puzzle. Which is why I had to move it to a secure location outside of Gotham”.

“I really wished you guys brought me in on this!”, Batgirl said. “I mean I saw the monsters first. It’s my case”.

“And pass up the opportunity to watch them swordfight Penguin later in the future? No way! I had front seat tickets!”

“There were too many unknowns. You could have gotten hurt. Both of you”. Batman turned his attention towards you. “You have to be more careful, (Y/N)”.

“What do you mean? I was beating that blue one pretty good”.

“Yet you didn’t notice the red one almost tapped you from the back”.

You felt a movement in your stomach and cold run down your back, yet your face started to feel hot. You did not notice at all. When would that have happened?... How long did you look into those blue eyes? Did the red one see an opening, only for Batman to save you, while you were being engulfed in a mutant turtle’s eyes, not noticing the world around you?

“N- no, I didn’t”.

“No, and you’ll have to work on that before I start calling you for backup”. Feedback from Batman always sounded harsh. And it did make you feel self conscious. But when it came to fighting alongside Batman, it was a matter of life and death. “In the meantime”, Batman continued, before you could dig too deep into your own feelings. “I’ll need to start working on a way to counteract the mutagen”. Batman stood for a moment. “And for that I could use both of your help”.

You could feel a big smile form on your face as Batgirl thanked the man you saw as your father figure. It wasn’t often that he actually asked for your help, or any help at all, making this a rare occasion, forever saved in your memory.

“All though”, Batgirl said as Batman looked closer at the sai he had gotten from the red turtle. “If those creatures left the Penguin's men tied up for the police, maybe I was wrong about them”.

“Maybe”, was all Batman had to say about that.

The drive back to the Batcave from Wayne Enterprise was silent. With you and Batgirl squished together in one seat, while Batman was driving the Batmobile. The silence that was so common when it came to Batman. It was a far cry from the Bruce Wayne that had taken you in as his own daughter. I was as if the moment he took the mask on, he became a different person. Not less loving than the Bruce Wayne you had given the title father, but less expressive and harder to read.

“Pretty eyes?”, Batman said, finally breaking the silence. Batgirl looked at you in confusion.

“It caught him off guard didn’t it? I’ll say it worked”, you said, playing with a smile on your lips. The bat stayed silent. You knew that silence. It was not an approving silence. You tried playing it off, talking about something else. “Did you notice how easily excited the orange one got? And how mad that red one was? They kind of remind me of Robin-”.

“Your brother is not comparable to a bunch of ninja turtles”.

“Well you might think that”, you mumbled, thinking of your pestilence of an adopted brother, that often caused chaos in your daily life, by sneaking around Wayne Manor. “He does look a little like them”.

Batgirl turned to Batman. “Care to explain?”

Batman sighed. “(H/N) and the blue mutant had a moment where she told him he had pretty eyes”.

“A moment?”, Batgirl asked, slightly shocked.

“A stare down”, you said, feeling your cheeks getting hot.

“A moment”, Batman corrected. “Even his attacks became softer after she told him”.

“No they didn’t!”

“They did. And so did yours”.

With your cheeks on fire, you crossed your arms and leaned back into the seat you shared with Batgirl. The amused smile she was trying to hide, made you wish the Batmobile would swallow you on the spot.

Why did that damn turtle have to have such pretty eyes?