#i was going to make this a whole thing with a bunch of other references to them skiving

[lenacethemenace]

I am so sick of this BS.

Warning for an absolute essay of a post about Team Dark and fandom portrayal. This is not intended to point out or call out anyone specifically, just because it's not my vibe doesn't mean it can't be yours. Write what you want, enjoy what you want; your personal takes are valid.

With that said, I am so so so so soooo sick and tired of going to read a sonic-related fanfiction with an interesting premise that has any type of focus on team dark, and they're portrayed like a bunch of asshats. And they're not just rude to others, they treat each other like shit. I've seen it in so many fics, and it's been so abysmal that I've straight up dropped them. Shadow being a dick to Rouge? Omega has 0 personality other than "destroy all eggman robots" (yes, that is a lot of it.) My boy has flair, give him some sort of interest or something at least.

But above those two, and the topic of today, WHAT in the molly-whopping dirt munching misinformed mischaracterization is the way that Rouge is written???

I've seen, countless times, Rouge being uncaring, unkind, or self-centered to a degree where it's not a flaw or something the writers have her overcome, but she's just a kleptomaniac. On top of all that, they make her seem like she'd been using Team Dark for personal gain. While it can be said she treated them like friends, it's played as a manipulation tactic that frames her as a piece of shit. She takes a deal from Eggman in exchange for some sort of bribe, and she betrays not Team Sonic, not anyone else, but HER team. She betrays her two closest friends, I'd even argue family, and that's just not the Rouge we know and love???

This isn't me just talking out of my ass, but it's also based on the media I consumed first, that being the more "mainline" games like SA2, Heroes, '06 (BUT ONLY FOR TEAM DARK) and even into the recent SXSG.

Starting with Heroes, which is my biggest point of reference when it comes to how I view them.

In the initial introduction of the team, it shows off Rouge sneaking into Eggman's stronghold, finding Shadow in his little pod, and Omeg, who had been locked in that room as well. Omega starts BLASTING! And the first thing Shadow does when he wakes up is tackle her out of danger, ensuring she stays safe on the sidelines, and then rushes in to take out the perceived threat.

When Rouge hears Omega say that he must "Eliminate all Eggman robots," she realizes this whole fight is a misunderstanding, and breaks the boys up, making them see reason. After a bit of discussion, they realize that Shadow's an amnesiac, Omega's out for revenge on Eggman, and her goals as well, all align. In a way, they all need answers from the bastard, so Rouge, and let me say this again, ROUGE makes them a team. It's not met with Shadow brooding, bitching, or being a jerk, and it isn't met with Omega saying that it isn't integral to his mission, they all agree. Even if they're a bit reserved at first, throughout the game, you slowly see them begin to have more playful banter.

They are a TEAM, and although at this point it's more ragtag, as we, the audience, learn more about them, they learn more about each other. Rouge isn't just using them to serve her goal; no, she genuinely cares. She wants justice and answers for her friends. She doesn't need to help Shadow with his lack of memory, she doesn't need to help Omega get his revenge, but she CHOOSES to. She knows they'd work great as a team, and they do.

Shadow himself, focusing on him for a moment, also worries about their well-being. He's more reserved in his care for them, but it's present. He tells the two of them to be careful, and in response, Rouge tells him that the sentiment extends to him as well. It's not just "Watch your back," it's "I'm watching your back because I know you have mine."

Later in the game, when Shadow believes that he might not be the "real" him, he isn't left alone; he doesn't bear the burden alone. His struggle doesn't go unnoticed, and it's Rouge who checks in on him.

He presses on, and because he's moving, she matches his speed, if not encouraging him to take a moment and slow down.

That's not the look of someone who doesn't give a fuck, that's the look of someone who would notice a friend having a bad day from across a room and make sure they didn't feel isolated. She's a jewel thief, an expert liar, a secret agent, but she isn't just that. Interpersonal relations and group care is exactly what heroes is about. Even if they seem like an unlikely bunch.

Moving ahead, looking into '06, as jank as we all know that game is, it does do Team Dark pretty well.

So the group is united again. Rouge meets up with the other two, and as Shadow gets straight to buisness, our favorite white bat chimes in. Remarking that he doesn't change. It's endeering, and shows that she understands him well enough to know damn well it's not personal.

Ya' girl is sarcastic and sassy, so is the rest of the team by extension.

The entire game, we see the three of them work together, swoop in and save each other, even when they are later met with a downright awful dilemma. Because of Mephiles the dark (MEMPHIS TENESSE!) and his offer for Shadow to help him take over the world, Shadow lets him know "Nah mf, you're in this one alone." So eventually the jerk tells/shows Shadow that in the future, he will be sealed away, and the world will become his enemy.

Then when it's revealed that E-123 Omega will be the one to put him away, the group is in disarray. We're all friends aren't we? What happened? Why would he do that? Well he has no say. Omega would take no joy and no pride in his actions, he's probably miss his friend as well. Wouldn't this cause tension?

At this point, you're probably thinking. Well golly gosh jee willikers jeepers creepers tikki tikki tembo-no sa rembo-chari bari ruchi-pip berry pembo and jinkies batman, they're in a bit of a pickle!

But no, it just serves to strengthen their bond, it makes their time together precious, something to hold onto and cherish for the years to come. Rouge makes it a point to show her support for Shadow AGAIN!

Shadow doesn't question her, he knows she's being truthful. If anything, he is one of the very few who has not a doubt in their mind about Rouge or her motivations. That's his homegirl, arguably his best friend, of course he knows she supports and cares for him, he feels the same. It's a moment that reinforces just how important she is to him. She's one of the reason he feels so comfortable, one of the biggest supporters in his life.

Turning to their interactions in Sonic X Shadow generations, Rouge, once again, proves that she is in his corner. When she meets up with him, she teases him for "losing" to Sonic, which is met by some back and forth. Shadow reveals that he swapped the real emerald for the fake one, and of course Rouge voices how impressed she is with him, mentioning that as a jewel thief, she approves. She's clearly proud about it, and it's sweet.

Outside of that, we have the dialogue between the two, she talks to Shadow about what's been going on with Sonic, talks about classic, and pokes at him for being kind enough to at least give the blue blur a fake Emerald instead. Playful, friendly, banter.

Beyond just that, when it all comes down to it, she's always there for him.

(The Amy bit has me going crazy, iykyk)

With all of that said in my impromptu rant, I want to say that they are fantastic friends, a great family, and although this focused primarily on Rouge and Shadow, it is this way because they are typically written the MOST wrong when it comes to their relationship. If you find it to be platonic, familial, or romantic, that doesn't really matter. It’s the fact that people see these three, watch these three, and read these three and think, "Yeah, this little found family would curse at each other with their full chests and lament about how they're obligated to work together." My brotha in Christ H U H ?

Yeah they say "bitch" but they mean it in affectionate jest. I can excuse AUs to a certain degree, I can excuse alternate timelines where maybe they never had that connection. BUT YOU CANNOOOTTTT LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND TELL ME THEY ACT LIKE A HIGHSCHOOL FRIENDGROUP AND ACT FINE WHILE HATING EACHOTHER? The BULLLSHHHIIIIIT!

End scene.

[chirpsythismorning]

Watching Wayward Pines for potential ST5 inspo bc the Duffers wrote a couple episodes in s1, and when I got to their second (last) episode and their name crossed the screen, I noticed a visual parallel that might already exist on the show…

Recognize it??

It instantly reminded me of that last shot for the opening of s3, with the landscape peaking out behind the Russian base. But when I went back and actually compared the two, holy shit it’s near identical, and not just the landscape.

I didn’t even remember the helicopter being there on the left, not to mention the pillar-esaue contraption at the center. Like… they’re the same picture.!

With them being credited right at that moment, it’s obvious this was an intentional nod to their previous work.

I just thought it was cool so I wanted to share, but in terms of my watch overall, there is a LOT going on that they could pull from. I’m only halfway through s1, though I’ve heard the show goes downhill in s2 so we’ll see how that goes 😂

[soyoursoulisgreen]

11, 20, and 29 for the oc asks :> for any of your guys!

Oohh but who to pick! Who's been on my mind lately, who I haven't already talked up too much hmmm... Maybe Minki! :D

11. What was your inspiration for your OC?

Minki was the fallout of one of my Vargas AU brainstorm session actually (how??) where I was trying to come up with a pun for a potion shop owner - she came name first, then the logo of her business, then her full design! I ended up being so happy with her that I fully fleshed her out into her own character and she's taken up residence with a few other OCs that I haven't explored quite as much, but I have thought about a good clip

20. If they fight, what’s their weapon of choice?

Minki is a potions witch! She's not much for fighting herself - she makes a business of selling her potions so other people have the upper hand in their fights - but she keeps some in reserve if she needs to defend herself! A basic set of strength, stoneskin/defense buff - a fire-res in conjunction with a bottled fireball is quite effective on any hopeful intruders hehe

29. Imagine a mood board for your OC! What’s on it? (Make it if you want!)

Just a mini one this time hehe <3 She's a fairly straightforward gal!

[steviescrystals]

my tags on the post i just reblogged got me thinking so here’s my current stream of consciousness

[biteyoubiteme]

needy jealousy

yeonjun x fem!reader x kai

synopsis: your boyfriends decide to join nonutnovember.

warnings: 🔞!!! throuple/poly, established realtionship, no mxm, no protection, mentions of cum eating, creampie(s),she/her used prob forgot some sorry

wc: 3.4k

an: not proofread pls have mercy im so sleepy, I told myself I would keep these under 2k and im a liar bc as soon as this came in I knew I wouldn't be able to make it short ;-; hopefully it’s good lol thank you so much for the request @apeachty ily and you know exactly what I want to write next without even trying lol our minds are linked. also peep the reference to busy signal! anyways I have a whole bunch of other yeonkai x reader fics so check them out if you want!

[m.list] [1kevent! m.list]

“no,”

“what do you mean by no?” yeonjun asks, “You can’t or won’t?” He's leaning back against the headboard, scrolling on his phone when he gets the message in his group chat. 

“I won’t,” you shrug, snuggling closer to Kai. He's half asleep, nose pressed to the back of your neck, arms loosely wrapped around you. 

“It's only one month, you’re saying you can’t go one month without sex?” 

“Not that I can’t, just that I won’t. It’s so stupid if I want to cum I will, with or without you,” you pat the back of huenings hand resting against your stomach. “I do have two boys to take care of me,” 

kai chuckles, sleep ridden in the rumble on your back, “I’m going to try it,” 

“I cannot believe both of you are falling into peer pressure, just cause the other boys are doing it doesn’t mean you have to,” 

“I was told if I hold out longer than beomgyu I get a free coffee for every day I last,” yeonjun flips his phone for you to see his chat, and sure enough everyone is bragging about how they could make it till the end of November without getting off. 

“Fine, do what you want. I’m not going to sit and beg you,” holding up two fingers you wave them in his face, “I can do it myself,” 

“You don't even know how to use these,” he grabs at your wrist, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. 

“I'll spend the month learning, or I'll just use the vibrator and the two of you will just have to sit and watch,” 

It seemed like such a light threat at the time. Not one that you would hold to but it wasn't as if you needed to hold it in the first place. Only two days in and it felt like both of them would fail. Neither of them brought this up to you, but it wasn't like they needed to, the signs were everywhere. 

Yeonjun had taken to spending time in the office when studying, all of his school work done with no time left for cuddling on the couch with you. More time spent working out with taehyun and less flirty texts in between sessions like he usually sent. Huening on the other hand was slowly closing off. His tight responses ended in silence, hardly answering in your group chat. Even in bed at night both of their backs turned to you as you lay there looking up at the ceiling. 

It wasn't as if you all were sex addicts, what the challenge really was, was knowing that you couldn't do something vs. just not being in the mood. It was the forbidden fruit effect spread out before them. Everything you did now was hot even if it was the most mundane thing imaginable. The season was changing and now even just watching you take off your coat after coming in from outside was enough to get them hard. Just the idea of taking your clothes off, even just one layer, was enough to send them on their way to their respective avoidance programs. 

You could be laying on the couch, half asleep, and answering a question with a hum and they were done for. Even worse at night when you would change, or come fresh out of the shower, hair still dripping, leaving your shirt spotted with wet dots, the fabric getting cold enough to make your nipples hard. It was a curse to witness you walk out into the living room with your shorts showing so much skin. 

And you could see it on their faces, the way their jaws tightened, throats bobbing as they swallowed. You had never seen Kai look so expressionless. Every little thing is pent up inside him, the negative aura radiating off of him as you sit down between them. Even just seeing your bare thigh sent them into the other room. 

A week in is around the time you think they are going to break. Yeonjun coming home from his workout, hair still sweaty and sticking to his forehead as he wraps his arms around you from behind. His soft kisses on your neck as you prepare a cup of tea. “Want one?” 

“No, I'm good,” his hands traveling under and up your shirt. It was the first time since that conversation in the bed that he's put his hands on you in any way besides helping to guide you by the small of your lower back. You melted into his hold, head rolling back, letting him feel over your skin. 

Neither of you hear Kai's feet padding across the apartment's floor. Don't notice him standing right in the doorway until he clears his throat, “so you've given up already?” The accusation sounds more like a warning. It's like he's thrown a bucket of ice water over yeonjun, the realization crushing his forgetfulness. He tugs his hands away from you like you're a hot stove he's gotten too close to. “Jjunie-” 

He doesn't even look up, hand over his eyes as he turns away, “No, I'm going to take a very cold shower,” 

“I'll join!” it's mostly a joke, your giggle making them both scowl. 

“No, stop talking about being naked around me right now,” 

“Why?” you ask, leaning against the counter, tilting your head as he tries to wave away the word. Your smile stuck as he walked away. 

“You're evil,” he tosses over his shoulder leaving you alone with huening. You can feel him standing there watching you. His hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie while he leaned against the door frame. 

“Do you want some?” you ask, pouring a spoonful of honey into your mug. He watches the way it dribbles and sees a dot drop to the counter, your fingers scooping it up and taking it to your mouth. 

He watches you suck the honey off, not even caring that he's right there watching, hands tightening into fists as he thinks about the way your tongue would feel. He thinks he's hiding it well, that you can’t tell he's struggling so much. But he's so obvious, shaking his head and muttering that he's going to bed early. He swears he is never this horny, the two of you have gone well past a few weeks without having sex before and not even thinking much about it. Only now it’s all he can think about and it's making him feel sick, his stomach tightening every time he sees you in a room, like at any moment it won't be him you go to first to ask to get off. 

Never has he been so jealous in his life, not even about yeonjun for kissing you but over your own fingers. Even if you caved and asked yeonjun to be the one to take care of you he wouldn't mind, he'd give up without question, but the idea that you can just walk around and sit with your own hand down your pants was what was killing him. 

He could see it in his head, could picture that time you were struggling to get off with tears in your eyes, how he helped you just like you needed, yeonjun over the phone telling him to take care of you. He wanted that, he needed that. He wanted to help you again, he wanted you to help him, and yet he also wanted to last longer than yeonjun. 

But you had had enough of watching the two of them being so avoidant. Feeling plagued by kai’s mood and yeonjun absence over something so stupid was annoying. Not caring about your tea you followed after Kai. He was already climbing onto the bed, curling up away from your side, arms crossed and eyes closed as you hopped in after him. 

He doesn't acknowledge you are there even when you sneak your arms under him, wrapping him up and being the big spoon behind him. You press your face into his neck, breathing in his comforting smell, humming right against his ear. 

“Hyuka?” it's rare you use the nickname, only when you really want something, kai associating it the most with your desperate calls for him to touch you. You can feel his body tightening, your leg raising to lay on top of his, tugging him even closer to you. “You're so tense,” Your hand on his stomach rubs in soft circles over the fabric of his hoodie, his breath hitching every time you pass over the waistband of his sweatpants. “You know I could help with that,” 

Kai pulls himself away from you, all the way off the bed as you roll on your back. The little smile on your lips eating him alive. He was hard, painfully so, watching you there softly roll your hips, beckoning him. He can hear the sound of the shower, the beating water, the only other noise in the room, the light under the door fanning out around the floor. He watched you sit up on your knees, right at the edge of the bed, hands reaching out to tug him closer to you. 

He let it happen, caved, and leaned down to rest his forehead on yours, eyes pinched closed as he muttered, “You're Killing me,” he could feel your smile when you kissed him, arms wrapping around his neck. 

You had him right where you wanted him, his whimpers between kisses only pushing you on, pulling him back to the bed. He didn't say anything as he laid back against the headboard, your legs straddling him, and your hands already pulling off his top. “I shouldn't-” 

“I won't tell,” you say in between kisses, his erection pressed into your thigh. “We can be quick, yeonjun won't even have to know,” 

“He’ll know,” kai’s not even trying to keep it down, his soft whimpers leaving every time he rolls his hips to try and gain friction against your leg. “And I won't stop after just once, I don't think it will be enough,” 

Both of you jump at the sound of yeonjuns voice, “What is this? My girlfriend in bed with another man?” Neither of you had even heard the water turn off, the steam still wafting out of the bathroom behind yeonjun as he rubbed a towel against his wet hair. 

“Oh no Huening, I think my boyfriend caught us,” sometimes the three of you liked to joke like this, poking fun at the idea of what others thought about your relationship. But Kai wasn't in the mood. He wrapped his arms around you, flipping you over so you were on your back and he was on top pushing you into the mattress. 

“My girlfriend, my bed. I want first,” he leaves no room for argument, his mouth back on your neck, hips grinding into yours. 

“Giving up so early already Huening, I knew you couldn't last,” yeonjun tisks, he sits back in his chair in the corner of the room, his favorite view for moments like this. His towel is draped across his bare shoulders, arms crossed as he looks right at you. “And you, I'm sure you teased him into it,” 

“no, I’d never do something like that,” 

“Liar,” they both say at the same time, kai’s face pressed against your neck, hot mouth working down your throat. You wrap your legs around him pushing him closer, his breathy whimpers right in your ear. Twisting your fingers into kai's hair you pull on the strands, your smile eating yeonjun alive. He could tell himself he wouldn't cave but he knows it's a slim chance when he sees you like this with huening. 

Not when he watches the way your lips fall open when kai pushes into you, the sweet little sounds you're making leaves him hard in seconds. It's worse now too because you're looking at him like you know exactly what he's thinking. And you do know, it's not too hard to guess as he leans back with his arms crossed, knuckles turning white as he readjusts in his seat to try and find some kind of relief. 

Kai didn't even feel the need to strip you, pushing your panties to the side and not worrying about preparing you. The guttural moan he released when he was fully seated inside you reverberated against your whole body. He was a mess of whimpers, arms wrapping around you pulling you as close as he could, shallow thrusts in apology for ever denying himself from you. “Never again- I won't- I can't-”  he's trying to get the words out, broken moans filtering through each breath he takes. 

“He can't even talk, and I'm not even going to judge because if it's anything like how I remember I'd be just as bad,” yeonjun mutters, his jaw so tight he hardly opens his mouth to say it. 

“Jjunie,” you moan, tugging kais hair as his hips stutter against yours, “don't you want to cum for me?”  

Kai won't last hearing the word come from your mouth, every thrust just making you wetter, your warmth pulling him in. He's surprised he even lasted this long before he felt his first orgasm. If it wasn’t for the way he starts to tremble you wouldn't have noticed that he has cum already, not when he doesn’t pull out, doesn’t even slow down. 

“Don't give me that look,” yeonjun warns, but it is not like you can help it when kai is pulling one of your legs up by the back of your knee, his hips sinking deeper, your eyes rolling back at the new depth. 

Yeonjun doesn't even notice how his own hips are moving, leaning back just enough in his chair so that each roll gives him the just right amount of friction against his oversized sweatpants. He's trying not to make it obvious just how hard he is but he's finding it harder and harder to keep his hands off himself and away from you when the headboard starts to creek against the wall. 

Huenings lets out a mix of grunts and whimpers, his cum making you so much easier to slip in and out of, the soft slapping sound of his thighs against yours drowning out any other thought in his mind. “Look at me,” he's gasping, pulling back just enough so that his hand not holding your leg can grasp the headboard, softening the sound for only a second before the bed is back to squeaking. 

You don't deny him, his hair hanging around his eyes, mouth open as he feels the first tingle of overstimulation, thin silver chain necklace dangling just above your chin. His knees are digging into the mattress, the angle pushing him so much deeper. You reach down with one hand to rub on your clit, the other scratching at the back of his neck. 

He's finding it hard to keep his eyes open as he tried not to cum again, “God you look so pretty like this,” 

“Did you miss me?” 

“Fuck yes, I missed this- I missed your pussy so- so much,” he trails off in a whimper, head tossed back exposing his throat to you. 

Your orgasm is so close, aided by all of his desperate sounds. When all of his little ‘ah-ah’s’ get close together you feel yourself tip over the edge. Kai can’t handle the way you clench around him, the both of you are so wrapped up in each other that you don't notice the way yeonjun has to close his eyes. He's begging and praying that he could be stronger than he is but this is too much for him. 

Worst still is how you look over at him at just the last second, a taunt caught right in your creased brow. He can't even take the pressure of his pants anymore, he tugs them down, cock hitting his stomach, heavy and aching. It does little to cure him of this need. 

Kai lets go of the headboard, arms pulling you closer as he peppers your face in kisses, his happy giggle pressed right to your pulse. “Do you feel better?” 

“So much,” he sighs, “I don't even care about losing anymore I just wanted- no I needed you so bad,”

“You know who else needs to forget the stupid bet?” your eyes are trained on the way yeonjun is trying and failing not to move his hips. Every micro-movement brushing his red tip against his skin gives the smallest amount of relief but not enough. 

“Don't talk like I'm not right here,” his eyes are closed, fingers leaving imprints on his biceps. 

“You should help him,” Kai continues, nose sliding down your cheek before he gives a soft kiss to the edge of your mouth. He pulls away, leaning back on his heels as he pulls out of you, quick to move your panties into place to catch any of your combined release in place to not spill on the sheets. 

Standing on shaking legs you stand, stumbling until yeonjun pulls you on top of him. He's groaning as soon as you straddle him, his hands on your hips like a vise. “Why torture me?” 

“No one said you had to watch, I was content with not letting you know but you sat down and didn't look away,” your nails lightly scratch over his chest, his humming response matches the subtle way he's trying to grind up into your clothed clit, panties wet and warm against him. 

“I'll just put it in, I won't even move, I just- I need something,” it's like he's asking permission, wondering if this will mean he's failed, if you'll tell on him. Huening chuckles from the bed, knowing the truth because the second yeonjun slips in he won't be able to help himself. 

“Okay, I won't move either,” you slip your hand down to pull your underwear to the side, the dribbles of your slick and kais cum leak all over. Dripping onto yeonjuns veiny cock and stomach. You try to wipe it away, your fingers on him making his ads flex, cock jumping when you put your fingers to your mouth, sucking away the saltiness. You barely get your fingers away from your mouth before yeonjuns kiss you. His favorite taste is you mixed with cum. 

When you sink down on him both of you moan, the sound caught right in the back of your throat, his eyes squeezed tight as he tries not to thrust up into you. He's devastated to find that you feel even better than he remembered, his hold on your hips almost bruising as you clench around him.  

“This was a horrible idea,” he’s gasping, “oh shit- i-,” he's cut off by your first attempt at moving up and down. “No, don’t, I won't be able to last-” 

“But jjunie-” you whine, hand pushing into your lower stomach, right over where you can feel him pressing so deep into you. “I wanna cum again,” 

“She's so greedy,” Kai adds, your hips rocking back and forth enough to leave yeonjun speechless. 

Clit grinding onto his pelvis, you don't even care about bouncing anymore, the perfect friction to get you off, the tip of his cock pressed right against your g-spot bumping over and over with each movement of your hips. “You're going to have to get off, I can't lose- I won't-” 

But it's not like he's letting you get off of him, he's actively helping you grind down on him, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, “faster-” he's moaning, your hands on his shoulders for leverage before you're falling apart, your toes curling, every noise pressed right to his ear. The way your walls are fluttering around him makes his balls tighten, “I just won'tcum I just won't- I won't - I- fuck -oh fuuuckk,” He's not even stopping now, thrusting up into you to ride out his high, shoving all his cum as far as he can get it, not worried anymore when it feels this good. 

“You're the worst,” yeonjun chuckles after the two of you have caught your breath, “I love you so much, but actually you're evil and I love it,” 

“It's not my fault you couldn't help yourself, I told you it was stupid,” 

“I just won't tell anyone this happened,” he shrugs but kai laughs from the bed. 

“I already told everyone you lost,”

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[swampjawn]

If you wanted to animate an object spinning really fast, there are three main embellishments at your disposal. You could add smear frames, you could add doubling, or if you wanted to get a little crazy with it, you could have that object bend and stretch to really emphasize the inertia of the motion.

Or you could do all three at the same time!

I didn't want to like Zenshu at first.

Saying I'm not a big fan of isekai as a genre would be an understatement, so I was straight up peeved when I found out that what I initially thought would be a flawed industry's unflinching look in the mirror made by THE studio that has become the symbol of the Japanese animation industry's broader problems with overworking and underpaying, this was just gonna be yet another in a long line of paint-by-numbers escapist power fantasies in a genre that was tired from the moment it was born, just like yaboy, sleepy to the max if you know what I'm saying.

And this recreation of a scene from Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984), (which was one of the first breakout roles for anime legend and Evangelion director Hideaki Anno) certainly helped soften my attitude towards it, but a series of references to old stuff wouldn't be enough.

(both versions trimmed here)

But its tribute to classic anime and animation in general goes beyond just references.

This absurdly over the top modernized version of a magical girl transformation animated by Keisuke Toyoda (豊田 桂祐 ) feels like it contains all the possibilities of animation and imagination in just 3 preposterously dense cuts. There is just WAY too much going on here at once, in a way that feels very self aware.

Every color you could imagine, lighting from three different directions, what looks like three different layers of effects and sparkles, countless compositing effects, what looks like some sort of 3D particle simulation in the background,

this psychedelic background art that seems to represent Natsuko's blood vessels, a bit where you can see what it took me several episodes to realize are Natsuko's actual blood vessels and skeleton through her body,

and… some birds of course.

Most of the main elements are animated on 2's, but there are so many layers -- the timing of each offset from the rest -- that it almost feels like the whole thing is animated on 1's because there is practically no single frame where at least something doesn't change.

It's really an assault to the senses that contrasts hilariously with the mundane action of actually sitting down at a desk and drawing. There's even a little death note reference thrown in there to poke fun at this contrast!

And fully committing to the sailor moon bit, they repeat this stock animation in almost every episode. While it's no masterpiece plot-wise, it is at least more than I expected on that front too, but that's more than I can get into here. I talk about that some more and a bunch of other stuff in this video, from which this post is an adapted excerpt! Go watch it and comment, "wow sWIMP John, I used to like your videos but you've really fallen off hardcore. Go back to making magic school bus AMVs. Unsubbed."

[crheativity]

Mc/Yuu that when given genuine affection from their friends such as a small gift or just being told that they enjoy being around them, they just get really quiet and look at their friend with shock and disbelief, tearing up a little bit and just going "...oh..." in a real small voice.

Bonus points if they're not usually emotional like this.

It would be fun if it was the overblot gang since they just got some gifts themselves, or maybe ADeuce duo...idk man, I just want some wholesome friendship, I feel like there aren't enough fics like that in this fandom-

WARNINGS: Can be read as platonic or romantic, some of these might be longer/shorter than others, all of them care about you but (almost) all of them are bad with Emotions. also there are slight references to book 6 in Idia’s section if you squint

COMMENTS: AWH this is such a cute idea! And yes, there should definitely be more wholesome, platonic fics! Also, sorry these are short D:

Wait, crap, you’re tearing up? He just got you a present- are you okay?? He’s low key worried about you, unsure if this is just you being extremely excited about his (amazing) gift or if there’s something else going on. Either way, he’s quick to figure it out and reassure you as best he can. He’s torn between feeling bad about making you cry and being happy you liked his present so much. Either way, he pulls you into a hug and rubs patterns into your back until you feel better.

You’re crying?! Ohhhh crap oh crap oh crap- he doesn’t know what to do! Was his present that bad-? Once you reassure him and tell him you love it, he relaxes a little bit but is still clearly distressed. He isn’t very good at figuring out why you’re reacting this way, but his genuine care for you shines through and helps you feel a little more comfortable in his own way.

Wh-what?? Did he do something wrong-? He did a bunch of research, so he had assumed that this gift would be something you’d appreciate, not tear up over! Riddle is. Confused. And scared. He’s new to this whole “having friends” thing, and he thinks very highly of you, so the thought of messing up is pretty scary. He’s at quite a loss of what to do. When you reassure him and tell him you’re okay, he’s very relieved. He makes a note of how much you appreciated the gift and is determined to do more for you. If he has to get used to having friends, he wants you to get used to receiving the affection you deserve, too.

Awh, come on. You’re seriously tearing up over this? He ruffles your hair affectionately, giving you space to process your emotions while staying nearby. He doesn’t quite get what all the fuss is about - all he knows is he got you something and then you “exploded into tears” (you did not, he’s exaggerating). He sits with you until you feel better and tries to think of ways he could give you stuff without you “freaking out” like this. Maybe some money left in your pockets would be a good idea…

As soon as you tear up, he wants to go hide in his octo-pot. He knew it, it was a stupid idea. He should’ve gone with the other present idea, maybe then you’d be less disappointed. If you even still want to be friends with him after this. The moment you explain that you’re really happy, however, his mood does a complete 180, attempting to both comfort you and gloat a little at the same time. He would pat you a little awkwardly on the shoulder, wanting to express he appreciated your vulnerability. He’s definitely making notes on things he could spoil you with.

He freezes. Dang, he thought it was something you’d like. If not, that’s okay, he did keep the receipt. You can take it back to the store and get a refund if you’d- oh? You liked it? He’s another one that would try to comfort you and feel smug at the same time. The thought of making anyone but particularly you so happy is a little jarring to him, and your way of expressing emotions is definitely unexpected, but he’s glad he got you this. Maybe he’ll get you something better next time.

For once, Vil is speechless. For a moment he just kinda stands there in surprise, before sweeping you into his arms for a hug - completely ignoring how his clothes might crinkle. He didn’t think you would react that way, and - although he’s pretty sure you’re happy - he wants to comfort you anyway. Once you confirm you’re actually happy, he thinks your reaction is sweet and endearing and pure. He’s definitely buying you more things if this is your reaction to it,

The moment you say “oh�� and start to tear up he’s internally going say sike rn. Bro was not prepared for Emotions. He can hardly handle his own feelings, why’d fate dump him with someone else’s?! Especially since they belong to someone he cares about. He’s not real good with other people, let alone taking care of them. He wishes Ortho was here - he could google Top 10 Ways To Comfort A Friend Who Randomly Starts Crying. Idia kinda just ends up patting your entire head awkwardly and saying “there there” through his tablet. He knows it’s pathetic, okay?

He’s utterly confused. He followed the Human Customs of buying a gift for someone you care about, why are you displaying a negative reaction? Was the gift not satisfactory? Lilia said this would be enough, although perhaps he should’ve gone with his original plan and bought you significantly more. Were you perhaps disappointed? Once you reassure him, he almost laughs. He thinks your reaction was very cute, he will be buying you significantly more things. Prepare yourself.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[hattiestgal]

If you don't mind my asking, how do you go about drawing fat? :3

JUST THE EXCUSE I WAS LOOKING FOR

So, for me personally, a lot of the time when I draw fat characters, I'm not looking to specifically capture the specifics of fat as much as the feel of fat. Bulkier, rounder shapes in the right places that has a feeling of weight to em! A lot of that is intuition and simplification at this point, but it all works on the same frame as just any ol' person. Like take this-

For example. This is the basis for any body shape, not just the more average one that it may imply. Sure- it can be that average body shape:

But also a fat one too!

And a big part of that is knowing where fat usually tends to bunch up on the body, so lets take a look piece by piece! (Please keep in mind this is very simplified, and not completely precise in some parts)

THE FACE: Cheeks (in purple) and especially the chin (in light blue) are the places where a lot of the fat is gonna wanna gather and round out on your face! Additionally, theres a small pocket of fat beneath the cranium on the backside of your head. It's small, but it is there. I believe fat can build up elsewhere like the bridge of your nose and forehead, but generally speaking, you're gonna have a whole lot more buildup in other places first.

THE TORSO: A lot of the fat built up on the torso is gonna be sent to your tummy. More cushioning for vital organs, mostly out of the way, it just makes sense. Additionally, the lower backs fat builds up and joins with a patch of fat on your sides that forms what is typically referred to as the love handles to make that double belly look. Along with this, the immediate next target for the torso is the breasts, followed by the upper back!

THE ARMS: For this limb, a VERY notable amount of the fat present builds up on the tricep and bicep areas, lessening once you get towards the flexor and extensor areas. You can almost think of the arm as a sort of triangular shape, wide side starting from the shoulder and tapering towards the hand, which itself mostly builds up fat around the back of the hand and the fingers. The shoulders themselves don't build up too much fat unless you got a lot

THE LEGS: And finally, you can think of the legs having pretty similar curves to what you're probably already used to thinking. The front of the thighs getting a big buildup, along with the back of the calves, the other parts being flatter in turn. As far as the feet go- similarly to the hands, the top of the feet, along with the heels get most of the buildup, as fat on your soles would impede mobility. The glute, hip and crotch area will also especially build up fat, lending to the same triangular shape that you can see in the arm!

A big thing to note with fat is that it tends to taper off towards joints. Your knees, elbows, shoulders, hips, and all the other places are gonna have significantly less fat so that you remain mobile and flexible, as that's important!

Now that we have an idea of where fat builds up on the body, you might have something that looks kinda like this

Which yes, does demonstrate a solid understanding of the places fat builds up, lacks the weight you're probably trying to convey, which brings us to out next point! Fat is well... heavy! Gravity is what gives fat much of it's shape, especially as you tread towards larger and larger bodies.

This is demonstrated really well on the arms especially-

Those big ol' bits of fat'll really start to sag when left hanging, and they will squish like hell if they run into something. I like to think of these bits of fat as big ol' ovals that squash and stretch depending on if there's an obstacle in their way or not

These are the important shapes to remember when it comes to the weightiness of fat! If you take all of this into mind, you should be getting something a lot closer to that shape you've been after!

Oh, and always remember that fat bodies come in all variety of shapes and sizes! Play around with a whole lot, and seek out all the resources you can! it'll really lend to your knowledge when it comes to this kinda stuff!

And as I always recommend when it comes to learning art- look at what your favorite artists do with fat bodies. See what you really like about the fat bodies they draw and try to replicate it in your own work, I promise you it's one of the most helpful things ever.

This is like the most basic of basics when it comes to drawing fat bodies though. If there's any additional thing about fat bodies, or maybe you want clarification on something, don't be afraid to ask! If there's enough to cover, I'll make an addition to this post!

[flaming-shapeshifter]

hello would u potentially feel like sharing some of the victorian sex slang you know im writing gay sex set in 1847 and im struggling :(

hello! I would be delighted to; there is no higher use for the truly excessive amount of victorian porn I've read than to aid in this endeavour

Two caveats before I get into it: one, the main source that I used when I was originally researching victorian porn is a series of publications from the late 1870s/80s (I'll link the wikisource version and talk about it more at the bottom) and as such may not reflect exact usage for the period you're writing. I don't *think* language usually changes that fast, but I'm not a linguist so thought it worth mentioning. Where possible I've tried to cross reference with the oxford english dictionary to determine first recorded english usage, but the censorship laws of the time and subsequent lack of digitisation can make it difficult sometimes to get an accurate picture of popular usage. Two, language has changed quite a bit since the 19th century--there's a good chance the average ao3 reader is going to be relying very very heavily on context for several of the more unfamiliar words below, while others have had their meanings change a fair bit since that time. Should you choose to use them regardless, I commend you for your dedication to accuracy.

anyway, without further ado, a whole bunch of victorian sex vocab:

Genitalia &c.

I'm not sure what parts are involved in your gay sex and I'm a completionist, so you're getting all of them

priapus: the penis. A more high-brow, classical reference to the greco-roman god of fertility. English usage has been a thing since at least the canterbury tales, but it's unclear exactly at what point the usage transitioned from referring solely to the god (as in the tales) to a physical penis between the 14th and mid-late 19th centuries. However a medical dictionary from 1842 lists the definition very matter-of-factly as "penis" as well, so you should be good to go, especially with more formally educated/wealthy characters

pego: the penis, again. This one's been around since at least the 17th century and does not appear to have any alternative meanings; it also hit its peak usage for the 19th century in 1850 (by appearances in published texts), so definitely a safe bet

cock: the penis. This one is possibly both the oldest and the most modern of the penis-related nouns here; we use it in our smut today and used in to pun about sex all the way back in 15th century middle english. If you want something both recognisable and period-appropriate, this is your word.

prick: the penis. Similarly to cock, though slightly less common as a neutral/eroticised noun nowadays in my experience, "prick" has been in use since at least the 16th century, and has the benefit of being recognisable to the modern reader, though the connotations may have shifted slightly

roger: the penis. Usage in reference to said organ has been occurring since at least the 17th century, but by the 19th, it seems to be mainly in comical contexts, i.e. bawdy poetry.

quim: the vulva/vagina. Dates back to at least the early 17th century; most examples cited in the oxford english dictionary come from verse before the mid 19th, after which point it's all casual or erotica-type references.

cunny: vulva/vagina. thought to be a variant on "coney," which can in British English refer either to the organ or to a rabbit; this term has been in use since the late 16th century.

pussy/pussey: the vulva/vagina. A relatively recent term when used with regards to genitalia, dating to the late 17th century and only really gaining popularity in the mid 19th century. Probably the least likely to be used (with the possible exception of verse), but one of the most recognisable to a modern reader

cunt: the vulva/vagina. You could write a period-appropriate-language black plague au with this one (as "cunte" per middle english spelling) and still have it be recognisable for the modern reader. 1847? fucking go for it

mons veneris: the mons pubis. Often capitalised as "Mons Veneris"; seems to get mentioned at least once in every pornographic story involving ciswomen, possibly due to the classical reference to Venus and its associations. Cismen also have this structure (though it's smaller due to the lower level of estrogen), but tragically it does not get the same veneration. Usage increased steadily from the mid 17th century and peaked in the late 1800s.

clitoris: the clitoris. Dates from at least the early 17th century and has grown in popularity ever since; "clit," in contrast, only appears in writing in the mid 20th century and would be rather anachronistic.

bubbies: the breasts, pretty much always a woman's. The spelling didn't transition to "booby"/"boobies" in reference to breasts until the early-mid 20th century (previously, as a noun, a "booby" was merely a fool); "bubbies" was the way to go from at least the 17th century up until that point

ballocks/bollox/bollocks: the testicles. Similarly to "pussey," I add this one mostly for the sake of spelling, which varied mostly between "ballocks" and "bollocks" but doesn't seem to be standardised in colloquial English spelling until the very late 20th century, if at all. In use since the 15th century.

British slang referring to the ass (bum, arse, &c.) generally translates pretty well to the point where I don't feel it necessary to give them their Victorian-specific entries.

Much like modern writing, the Victorians seemed to enjoy figurative language for their genitalia--horses are an unfortunately common point of comparison for penises, but "Cupid's dart" and "engine of love" are also common euphemisms. Cavern-related language and "gap of love" are their equals for the vagina, but overall, there's not many metaphors you could make up that would feel inappropriate to the era.

Actions

Presented in the infinitive form; normal English rules for verb conjugations/spelling generally apply.

gamahuche: to perform oral sex, most frequently on someone with a vagina. A borrowing from French as of the late 18th century that seems to have mostly died out in the modern day--I don't think I've ever heard someone say "gamahuche" out loud unless referencing Victorian pornography

frig: to finger someone/give a handjob, or (less frequently), stimulate them internally with a separate moving object. Worth noting that the meaning of this one does appear to refer more and more specifically to internal stimulation over the course of the late 19th and 20th centuries, but all uses should be appropriate for 1847.

fuck: to penetrate (or mimic penetration i.e. via intercrural sex) specifically with a penis. According to the Victorians, if there's not a penis involved, it doesn't realllly count as sex, which is part of why so much focus on homosexuality was specific to male/male homosexual activity (more on that later). This particular word has been in recognisable use since at least the 16th century, gets used frequently in the 19th in the appropriate situations, and is very recognisable to the modern reader; 10/10 would recommend. Also varies in usage by location such as in the case of "bum-fuck"

sodomy (n)/sodomise: to engage in any form of penetrative sex other than penile/vaginal, regardless of gender. Typically more legal terminology than colloquial, and pretty much always used in a negative sense of an "act against nature"; equals "cunt" and "cock" in antiquity as it dates back probably to the 14th century

bugger: to act as the penetrative party in anal sex with a phallic instrument (whether dildo or penis), regardless of gender. not quite as old a term as sodomy, being first found in legal writings in the 16th century, but definitely a more common-use term for the time.

pederasty: to engage in specifically male/male anal sex. As may be deduced from the word components, this carries the connotation of a large age gap between the persons involved, and may originate from the ancient greek practice of sexual apprenticeships (for lack of a better word) between a teenage-ish boy and an older man. Despite these connotations, it could be used to refer to any partnering of male/male sex, but tended to be a comparatively academic term. English written usage dates back to at least the early 17th century.

spend: to orgasm, particularly if fluids are involved (regardless of genitalia). In use since at least the 17th century and may carry connotations for the modern reader relating to the cultural emphasis on sex for the purpose of procreation alone

come: to orgasm. This one has been ol' reliable for smut writers since the earl 17th century at least and continues to be so today

Language tends to be more descriptive with regards to acts rather than using specific words--then again, one could consider that just another form of the "show, don't tell" maxim.

Items involved

French letter: a condom. This terminology would be very recent for '47, having only started appearing in English in the early 1840s--similarly, they would be made of treated linen or bladder/intestine (a "skin" condom) at the time, as rubber condoms were not produced until the 1850s

cundum/condom: a condom. An older term than the letter, though only by a century; the latter (modern) spelling dominates usage in the 19th century

godemiche: a dildo. Another loanword from french, this would also be fairly recent language, as it appears to have only entered written English usage in the early 1830s. Not a super common turn of phrase either way

dildoe/dildo: a dildo. In use in writing since the late 16th/early 17th century, the use of flexible materials such as leather or (in the latter half of the 19th century) vulcanised rubber allowed for the creation of ejaculating versions which could also be set in harnesses to be used as what we would now call a strap-on

On the subject of lube: "lube," unsurprisingly, is not a word in use at the time; nor, for that matter, is "lubricant" as we use it in reference to the wonderful additive for sexual intercourse today. In the works I've analysed, anal sex is mostly conducted using saliva or vaginal fluids as lubricant, if a lubricating substance is used at all; the one exception to this is a reference to "cold cream" used for male/male anal sex, which appears to be a perfumed spermaceti- and wax-based substance intended for skincare and has been in use since the early 19th century at least

Culture

identity: as you may be aware, "homosexuality" as a term didn't become a thing until the sexological period of the latter half of the 19th century; up until that era, anglophone culture didn't really have a conceptualisation of sexuality as an innate characteristic. Rather, sex acts were entirely something that you did, regardless of the genders involved, which is how we get period words like "tribade," which referred simply to women who had sex with women without concern for attraction.

legality: for britain specifically, male/male gay sex warranted a death sentence in regular courts up until 1861, after which the sentence changed to imprisonment--legal scholars at the time deemed this change likely to result in more successful prosecutions, as courts were previously hesitant to indict when doing so meant capital punishment. Female/female gay sex, in contrast, was completely ignored by the law, as said law was completely focused on penises. Similarly, american courts (which were based on british law) would later rule in the years surrounding the turn of the 20th century that oral sex performed on a penis was illegal regardless of gender due to being sodomitic in nature, but cunnilingus was perfectly fine.

social perception: similar to the law, male/male sex was regarded as taboo such that it was generally talked around rather than named up until sexology started gaining ground (sexological texts were then promptly blamed for teaching people how to do gay sex). Based on newspaper op-eds that I unfortunately don't have on hand right now, all-male settings such as sailing vessels (especially sailing vessels) were seen as particular bastions of such activity. female/female sex? generally disregarded as harmless, particularly in all-female settings such as schools.

Bonus

At least in the latter half of the century, impact play in the genital region (particular with a rod or "birch," but any flogging implement would seem to do) was treated in both pornographic and psycho-medical sexological texts as a commonly acknowledged method of attaining arousal, to the point that at least one author raised concerns about the continued use of flogging as punishment in boys' schools. Huzzah for Victorian kink friendliness, I guess?

Further Reading/References

Unless otherwise noted, all etymology, usage trends, and century of (written) origin is based on the Oxford English Dictionary.

"The Pearl: A Journal of Facetiæ and Voluptuous Reading." William Lazenby, London Society of Vice, 1879-1881. https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Pearl.

This is the Victorian porn publication I mentioned earlier, notable for its portrayals of gay sex compared to Lazenby's later publications such as The Oyster. Should you choose to do your own reading, it's worth noting that stories tend to involve topics of major consent issues, incest, underage sex and pedophilia, and period-typical misogyny, and racism. An interesting note about this particular publication is that it was relatively expensive for its time--apparently, the upper class liked their illicit gay smut.

Robley Dunglison • Medical Lexicon. A New Dictionary of Medical Science, containing a concise account of the various subjects and terms, … and formulae for … preparations etc • 3rd edition, 1842

For the medical definition of "priapus" as it refers to the penis.

Hernández, Anna. “Mons Pubis: What Is It, Location, and More | Osmosis.” Osmosis, January 6, 2025. https://www.osmosis.org/answers/mons-pubis.

Aine Collier (2007). The Humble Little Condom: A History. Buffalo, N.Y: Prometheus Books.

Beyond the scope of this post, for the most part, but if you're interested in writing period-accurate safer sex practices, it may be worth a look.

Saunders, T., and Edward Cox. The Criminal Law Consolidation Acts, 1861: The Other New Criminal Statutes and Parts of Statutes of the Sessions 1861 and 1862; Together With A Digest of the Criminal Cases Decided by The Court of Criminal Appeal, The Superior Courts, the Central Criminal Court, and on the Circuits. From 1848 to 1862. 2nd ed. London: J. Crockford, 1862.

Includes contemporary legal analyses of the changes to British legal punishment of male homosexual activity, as mentioned in the Culture section.

Richard von Krafft-Ebing, Psychopathia Sexualis, with Especial Reference to Contrary Sexual Instinct: A Medico-Legal Study., trans. Charles Gilbert Chaddock, 7th ed. (Philadelphia; London: F.A. Davis Co., 1892).

Psycho-medical perspectives on homosexuality and other "abnormal" sexual tendencies in the late Victorian era; contains a whole bunch of autobiographical testimonies. The downside is that anything touching on homosexual activity (which for academics at the time also included gender non-conformity) has been censored by being translated to Latin; you'll need to look at the 1960s or later for a fully English translation.

B. R. Burg. Boys at Sea: Sodomy, Indecency, and Courts Martial in Nelson's Navy. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007.

A look specifically at social attitudes in the purportedly all-male spaces of naval vessels; though slightly earlier (~1790-1820) than the 1847 time period, it stands to reason that characters familiar with that environment may continue to bear attitudes shaped by it. Unfortunately it may be difficult to access without being able to go through a university-level library system.

Lorraine Rumson, “Kink in the Time of Sexology: An Interdisciplinary Approach to ‘Abnormal Sexuality’ in Victorian Culture,” in Kink and Everyday Life: Interdisciplinary Reflections on Practice and Portrayal, 1st ed. (Bingley, UK: Emerald Publishing Limited, 2021).

An interesting analysis of social attitudes based on pornographic depictions, and contains further resources for Victorian pornography--unfortunately, I no longer have the book on hand to give specific names of texts, but they do exist ("Venus in Furs" is one that I do recall); alternatively, if you want older pornographic works, "Fanny Hill" and anything by the Marquis de Sade are worth looking into, albeit with the same content warnings as I mention for The Pearl.

Donald Hall. “Teaching Victorian Pornography: Hermeneutics and Sexuality.” Victorian Review 34, no. 2 (2008): 19–25. http://www.jstor.org/stable/27793665.

Another resource for identifying Victorian pornographic works, and this one's easily available on JSTOR if you have access or scihub if you don't.

[clancycatears]

PET NAMES (w/ TF141 + Alejandro)

JOHN PRICE

John is a classic man when it comes to his pet names. Knowing him, he’s defaulting to honey/hun or love, while also sneaking in some Mr./Mrs. Price. (Bonus points if you’re not married yet, which, how would that be possible? This man’s putting a ring on it as soon as he deems you’re the one.)

“Nearly forgot th’ eggs, hun, lemme grab ‘em.”

While I think those are the usual, I think John would also use darling or sweetheart, albeit the least out of the bunch.

“Get some rest, darlin’, I’ll take care ‘f it, yeah?”

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

Simon may seem like the last person who’d want to give his sweet lover pet names, but he’s actually the total opposite! His favorite for you would have to be the classic love. It’s short, sweet, and displays his affection for you in all the right ways.

“You forgot t’ tie your shoes, luv, let me.”

Though I’d say he sticks to love for the most part, I don’t see why he wouldn’t use birdie once in a while, though! Perhaps sneak some dearie or dove/dovie in there, too.

“I’s just a pug in’a Christmas sweater, dearie, why th’ tears?”

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

Johnny is a chronic pet name user, no doubt about it. Any chance he gets, he’s hardly using your name, and instead referring to you by terms of endearment that he knows would bring a smile to your face. I’d say he uses sillier pet names, too. Like his favorite thing to call you is probably snookums. It’s weird in all the right ways. Oh, and he definitely makes sneaks a little “schnookums” to give it a little flair.

“Ooo, look’eh this, snookums, gots all yer faverite colors!”

Some other li’l pet names to note are pidge (short for pigeon) or, of course, the classic lassie/laddie. Though, if we wanna go basic with Johnny (even though he’s far from that), I think he’d use lovie once in a while, too.

“Oh, c’mon, pidge! Jus’ one wee cinnamon bun!”

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

Much like Johnny, Kyle is a chronic pet name user. But rather than just a pet name or two, he’s going all out. I’m talking lovie, sweetheart (See: Sweet Pet Names), baby, sugar, beautiful/handsome, literally any pet name you can think of, Kyle’s using it. (But I digress, I’m biased when I say he uses “sweet” pet names a lot more!)

“S’okay, sweet’art, tomorrow’s gonna be a better day.”

Though I should note that he also likes to sneak a li’l my [your name] or something similar with a little shortened version of your name! Or honestly, couple it with the pet names I already added, like my baby or my lovie. (For example: Sophie = My Soph)

“There’s my baby. Got a li’l bed-head goin’ on there.”

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

Our dear Alejandro uses Spanish pet names all the way. Of course, we have to include the classic cariño (darling)! It’s adorable, definitely meant for long-term lovers (because there’s no such thing as short-term with Alejandro), and it even gets my heart pumping more than it should, teehee.

“Welcome home, cariño. ¿Cómo estuvo su día, hm?” (Welcome home, darling. How was your day, hm?)

And much like Johnny and Kyle, he has a whole list of pet names he uses for you. Though I think out of everyone on his list, he uses your actual name the least. I’d say he also uses durazno (peach), estrellita (little star), and mi vida (my life) or mi amor (my love)!

“Would you like some parmesan with that, mi amor?”

[voitier]

M.P.S 02 - JJK

“I-I’m sorry, I– shit, I don’t–” “Keep going.” Two simple words. A command, really. That’s all it took for Jungkook to let go of all restraint.

GENRE: oneshot (but it's actually part 2 of a fic. read pt.1 here)

RATING: 18+

CONTAINS: masturbation (m&f), getting caught, panty stealing, unprotected sex, kinda switch jk and reader, soft jk at the end

WORDCOUNT: 1k8

TAGLIST: (tagging both the people who asked to be tagged in part 1 and those who asked for part 2) @jeeykey @songbyeonkim @yunhoswrldddd @vsr4197 @wookookiechan @jjeonjjk7 @ian-jk97 @koogenre @rafesfuckdoll @stardustbaee @topforsure @missjgirly1 @kamyyyy @secretpeachcoffee @chimsworldsstuff @jayhargrove

Divider by @cafekitsune

Loud banging echoed inside the shared apartment as your fist collided with Jungkook’s door over and over again. “Jungkook,” you groaned exasperatedly, grabbing the door knob and twisting it for major dramatic effect. “C’mon dude, I only need my charger and I’m pretty sure I forgot it in here”

From the other side of the door, Jungkook was panicking. Not because of the embarrassing amount of empty soda cans scattered around his desk, or because of his ruffled bed sheets, or even the rather worrying pile of clothes growing day by day on his chair. No, none of it mattered in the moment.

What mattered, though, was his hand covered in slick precum he had smeared around to ease his motions, and your black thongs still wrapped prettily around his cock. Not to mention the fact that you had started banging on his door right as he was this far away from finishing, pulling him out of the mood immediately, yet not enough to make his aching boner go away. Hell, the sound of your agitated voice only spurred him on, and it was clear in the way he kept leaking more and more precum. “Fuck,” he whispered, breaking in cold sweat.

You knew from the moment he had snuck in the bathroom that it was the perfect time to act. If he couldn’t grow a pair to come forward and admit that he was attracted to you, then it was your shot to shoot. And now, with him falling for your trap, you knew there was no better timing.

But first you would give him time to enjoy himself – and, to be fair, you really needed that shower to clear your mind from the alcohol circulating in your system. Then, once you had stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, with your hair still dropping little cascades of water on your shoulders, you walked towards Jungkook’s room with an excuse ready: your charger. From then on? It was an open-air theatre.

In the panicked frenzy Jungkook was in, he failed to notice a couple things: one, he hadn’t tuck himself away properly, leaving his poor abused tip peeking from the waistband of his pajama pants, actively soaking that spot; and two – and this one costed him a lot – he hadn’t noticed that while moving away from the door his shirt had caught on the knob, pulling it open once he had moved. 

He registered what had happened only once the door clicked open and you stepped inside, watching with a look of pure, sheer, horror as your face morphed from annoyment into something that could be called… surprise? Shock? He didn’t really know, but he knew for sure that he was just seconds away from passing out on his floor. What a way to go, huh?

You had to muster up all your strength to not laugh in Jungkook’s face. Poor boy was mortified, to say the least. Years and years of acting school became suddenly of vital importance as you hid your amusement under a mask of fake surprise, taking in the disheveled appearance of your roommate whose face plastered the right amount of pain of being cockblocked and fear of being caught red handed. 

“I-”

“Are those mine?”

And there it was. Jungkook silently prayed that a hole would open up immediately under his feet and swallow him whole, sparing him of this suffering. He knew what you were referring to even without averting his gaze from your face, the black thongs bunched in his fist were a clear admission of his crime.

As much as the embarrassment of being caught froze him in place, his brain slowly began to realize that you were standing there in front of him – half naked, if not completely – covered by a skimpy towel that he knew covered nothing behind, and the soft scent of the soap you washed yourself with soon hit his nostrils, pushing him in a haze he didn’t think to pull himself out of. 

His cock twitched dangerously in his pants, a clear reminder of what he had stopped and what he needed most now. The sudden twitch caught your attention, your eyes dropping to the bulge pushing against the fabric of his pants and his glistening tip leaking profusely. A little “Oh-” escaped your lips before you could stop yourself. You had a feeling Jungkook was… gifted, to say. But to see the clear outprint of it? Yeah, you needed him now more than ever. 

“I-I’m sorry, I– shit, I don’t–”

“Keep going.”

Two simple words. A command, really.

That’s all it took for Jungkook to let go of all restraint.

He exhaled softly, watching hypnotised as you made your way to stand just a couple feet away from him. From this close, he knew that he could have touched you as he pleased. But he didn’t. Not yet, at least. 

Your fingers reached down, brushing his tightly closed fist. You let your touch linger a little longer before gently tugging the fabric away from his hand, chuckling as you felt how much more soaked it was now than how you left it minutes prior. 

“I believe these are mine,” you whispered amused, glancing down to peek at them before letting them fall to the ground with a shake of head. “That’s where all my other ones went, right? Had you so desperate to have a piece of me that you had to steal my underwear. Poor boy” you cooed, stroking his cheek lovingly. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, a soft gasp leaving his lips, soon followed by a pained groan at the throbbing pulse in his pants. 

“Sit down on the bed, Kook.”

He didn’t waste a second to obey, sitting at the edge of the bed and looking up at you. You leaned against the desk, feeling the wooden surface dig into your lower back. Whatever, this was worth the bruise you would wake up with in the morning. 

“Finish what you started.”

“But–” whatever he was going to say died in his mouth as he watched your hands reaching for your towel, tugging it open. The room stilled for a moment, the soft thump of the fabric resonating between you two. You had never seen Jungkook look as hungry and desperate as he was in that exact moment, watching as his eyes traveled up and down your naked body over and over again, his legs unconsciously spreading wider.

You couldn’t hide how much his act was affecting you either, knowing that your arousal was probably glistening your inner thighs as well. 

“Fuck, please, I need you.” A groan left his lips as he saw your fingers dip between your legs, lightly rubbing over your clit. His own hand flew to his pants, tugging them down and freeing his poor cock. He couldn’t help but set a brutal pace from the start, his eyes never leaving the spot between your legs.

“Not yet–” you managed to choke out, yet your words were cut off by a breathy moan as you slipped a finger inside, curling it just right while you looked right back at Jungkook. Your back arched away from the desk, legs shutting around your wrist as pleasure spiked through your system.

A low groan came from Jungkook’s throat before he raised to his feet, murmuring a quick “Fuck it”. His hands found the back of your thighs, raising you so one of your legs was on the desk, the other dangling off the ground as he held you up. Your hands grabbed his shoulders for stability, squeezing them as Jungkook thrusted inside you, both of you moaning loudly at the feeling.

His hands found your waist, holding you closer as his hips pistoned into you, filling the room with the sound of wet squelches, skin slapping and moans. Not resisting anymore you kissed him, desperation seeping through your kiss. Nothing in what was going on was soft or loving, the act itself was driven by your need to satisfy an insatiable hunger that had been clawing at you for months. 

Jungkook’s hand traveled to the back of your head, burying itself in your damp hair as he pushed you closer to him, as if closer would be something achievable. His tongue found yours in a whirlwind of lust and desperation, the other hand on your waist squeezed your flesh so hard you were sure he would leave his handprint for a couple days. You whimpered as Jungkook’s cock stroked your walls in all the right places, making you shudder in his arms. 

“Good girl,” he husked, his voice rough from the making out, “taking me so well, made to take my cock”

You threw your head back, his words only spurring you on more. Your walls fluttered around him for a couple seconds as you felt his thumb softly circle your clit, all while peppering your neck in kisses and hickeys. 

“Fuck– c’mon baby, cum all over my cock,” he growled, his thrusts growing less erratic but sharper, each one inflicted to push you over the edge. You couldn’t help but blabber nonsense, your senses clouded by the overwhelming pleasure cursing through you as Jungkook pushed you over the edge.

Your walls clamped shut around his cock, making him groan out loud. “Shit, love– can I finish inside?”

You nodded, wiping away the tears of pleasure striking down your cheeks. “Please, please” you cried out, nails scratching his back. Your body shook with the strength of Jungkook’s thrusts, the man having a hard time holding back any longer. He cradled your body to his torso, holding you tight as he buried himself to the hilt, filling you up with his cum. 

Slowly the high began wearing off, leaving you both tangled in a mess of sticky bodies and tired pants, overstimulated and worn out. 

Jungkook was the first to recover. Carefully he slipped out of you, picking you up bridal style and laying you on his bed. “Jungkook,” you croacked out, body shivering with the aftermath of what had happened. 

“I’m here,” he whispered, laying down beside you. His hand moved a strand of hair that had fallen on your face behind your ear, then he pulled you closer to his body, letting you bask in the warmth provided. “Did so good,” he praised, slowly kissing his way from your collarbones to your jaw. 

You sighed contented, running a hand through his soft hair. Your eyes caught a piece of fabric sticking out of the drawer next to his bed, a pattern that you recognized all too well.

“Kook?”

“Mh?”

“I want my underwear back. All of it.”

A couple beats of silence followed before his back rose and fell with a big sigh.

“Fuck.”

© voitier 2025

[skimmingmilk]

aughhh sonic going back in time to visit little two yr old tails as been in my brain for what feels like forever! like how many dots does he end up connecting? how does he have the strength to not travel back further and knock the daylights out of tails’s mom? how does he react to the whole kukku invasion and forest fire? so many questions…aaaaa im so excited for this fic i will be in ruins. in ruins, i tell you

also with the whole sonic punching tails’s mom thing: you were talking about tails and his parents, but like sonic interacting (or just seeing) tails’s parents is always something ive thought about. idk, im curious about what your take on that would be, if you have one. (sorry if you’ve already answered something like this ahshhshs)

your boys are just spinning around in my brain constantly. they are living in there completely rent free. i adore them sm, they make me sick. anytime there’s a reference or parallel to something in their past, it hurts. these boys need therapy immediately. maybe even before immediately. your portrayal of them is such a huge inspiration istg

anyway, sorry this is kinda all over the place 😭 i just had a bunch of thoughts and threw them together in the most coherent way i could lol. hope you have a good rest of your night/day! stay safe out there 🩵

So, I was saving this because it really inspired me to write a little something, and it felt fitting because I live for your baby Tails and Sonic art, it's seriously the best boost of serotonin for me xD I'm sorry it took a minute to get to this, and I'll address the second idea you had in another ask (someone else was on the same wavelength as you around this time, and also asked about Sonic and Tails and Tails's parents xD).

But for now, please accept a continuation of the back in time shenanigans <3

Sonic Back In Time Shenanigans WIP #2: Back for the Luggage

Tracking down a second Chaos Emerald so he could skip back in time for an afternoon wasn’t how Sonic saw himself spending the past few days. Though, to be fair, he spent a good chunk of them trying to ignore the very itch encouraging him to give into this particular whim of the week, but impulse control wasn’t Sonic the Hedgehog’s claim to fame. Not by a long shot.

His curiosity had been piqued. New insight into the lore of his little brother’s life before he’d ever crossed his path niggled at his mind no matter how far and fast he ran from the temptation to take a peek. The glimpse he’d got on that rainy night hadn’t been all that reassuring, with Tails so small and sick and the time Sonic got to spend with him in that dusty, stuffy cabin all too brief.

Cocoa Island. He’d looked it up after he and Silver returned to Sonic’s present, their respective futures stabilized for the time being, but he couldn’t find much information on it. If it wasn’t for the fact that Sonic could chart it on a map, it almost seemed like it didn’t even exist.

Historic records mentioned studies of the volcanic activity on the island more than a decade ago. Mines had also been dug out in the cave systems throughout the island long before Sonic had been born, in search of potential esoteric energy sources.

The Chaos Emeralds, no doubt.

But other than that, it seemed the island had never been properly settled. Sonic could’ve flown over in the Tornado for a quick jaunt—running to small islands never boded well for him, they were always tricky to aim for—but he knew it wouldn’t have the answers he was itching to find out.

And sure, the big one was already answered. The sick baby fox he’d had to leave behind in the care of some flickies after that rainy night obviously made a full recovery, or else Tails wouldn’t be alive in Sonic’s present, off on his own adventure. Flying solo. Alone.

But knowing that without actually seeing it, experiencing it for himself, didn’t satisfy Sonic in the slightest. He was all about experiences. And he wanted to experience this mysterious chapter of his best bud’s life, one he never really let himself think all that hard on.

So, that was how Sonic found himself on a nearly deserted island eight years in the past with two Chaos Emeralds in hand. It was warmer than in his present, willing to bet they were somewhere in spring or early summer as opposed to late fall, but the dense cover of pine trees kept the forest floor cool in its shade. Allergies tickled his nose, prompting Sonic to scratch at it as he took in his surroundings. Flickies sang throughout the branches, their chirps a comforting song accompanied by the steady hum of insects hidden in the brush. With his own curious hum, Sonic picked a direction and ran with it—er, walked with it. He took it slow for the moment, trying to find his way back to the cabin from that night. It seemed like his best bet to start his search for Tails.

Until a child’s voice somewhere in the forest caught his ear, both perking up and flicking towards the sound with an instinctive pull as everything else faded into the background. A breath Sonic hadn’t realized he’d been holding lifted from his chest. The child sounded light, healthy. No coughing or crying as far as he could tell. 

Sonic followed the voice to a clearing. Unlike the stormy day he’d first stumbled in on, sunlight flooded the patch of grass between the trees with its warm beams. One fell across a tree stump where a two-tailed fox kit lay sprawled across on his tummy, bright-eyed and bushy tails further confirmation that he’d made a full recovery. Sonic’s shoulders sagged with relief as he observed him from the brush, his own green eyes lighting up as he realized he was playing. Making motor sounds with his mouth, Tails rolled a toy airplane through the long, wild grass. His tongue poked out as he accidentally blew raspberries amidst his very serious airplane noises.

“Pfft—” Sonic’s laugh nearly sputtered out of him, cut off only by the fact that the kid heard him and froze.

Ears swiveled in his direction, but Tails couldn’t see him through the trees from his spot on the stump. The toy airplane fell to the grass with a soft thump as the baby fox squirmed and tried to hoist himself up into a sitting position, his two blue boots dangling just over the edge as his bare hands planted themselves on the wood between them to support himself. One tail flicked up and down with excitement while the other twitched limply against the tree stump, like it didn’t know it could lift itself up like its twin.

“Mom?” he called out, and the hope in his voice ensnared Sonic’s heart in a vice. “Mom!”

“Ah, sorry, little guy. Not mom.” Sonic stepped out from behind the brush with his hands up, a sheepish smile on his face. “Just me. Long time no see.”

His tails immediately wilted as the bright-eyed, eager expression on his face retracted into something shy and pensive. But not scared, Sonic noted. There wasn’t a trace of fear in his eyes.

“Remember me? I stayed with you during that rainstorm the other night,” Sonic added, hoping to jog the little guy’s memory, but he didn’t actually know how long it had been since that night. 

He didn’t have Silver’s neat little time travel gizmos. His comm couldn’t pinpoint where he was in time, only in space. Which meant he couldn’t stay long, because if Tails or anyone else tried to ping his location, it’d probably come up blank. 

The Tails sitting in front of him drew his legs up, curling into himself a bit the closer Sonic got. Okay, well maybe he was a little afraid. Sonic stopped short of reaching the tree stump, hoping a reassuring smile would get him the rest of the way.

“My name’s Sonic. Sonic the Hedgehog. What’s yours?”

Tails stared at him for a moment, until his gaze slowly slid past him to focus on the tree line behind him. Sonic planted his hands on his hips and canted his head back to see if anything was there, but aside from the buzz of insects and rustling of flickies in the leaves, the forest was still. No one else but the two of them smack dab in the middle of it.

“…Mom?” Tails whispered, grabbing onto one of his tails to hold.

Sonic’s smile slowly slid off his muzzle. In all the time he’d known Tails, he’d never once called for his mom. Not a single cry. By the time he came into Tails’s life, whatever innate trust he’d had for this faceless person had completely evaporated. There was only one person Tails had ever called out for, ever cried for, ever searched for when he was lost or scared or lonely.

Sonic swallowed thickly. “I don’t know where your mom is, bud. You waiting for her?” Tails nodded with the most intense certainty, his ears flopping forward and back with the force of it. “Did she… did she say when she’s coming back?” 

This time Tails pursed his mouth as he thought carefully about his answer, his pensive expression the same one he’d still make to this day when he debated how to explain something to him. If he should explain something to him. If he should give his big bro a glimpse into the inner workings of his big brain, or if it’d be easier—safer—to keep it all to himself.

And just where’d he pick up that particular trick?

But this Tails was young enough—hadn’t been hurt enough—to trust someone who looked like a grown-up, so he slowly shook his head in response, wide blue eyes gazing up at him like there’d be some sort of prize if he answered all the questions correctly. 

Sonic’s brow furrowed. “Do you know how long it’s been since you last saw her?”

“Long.” The small, squeaky voice was so matter-of-fact, Sonic nearly fell over with the sheer amount of joy a single syllable filled him with; his little bro’s attitude had been baked into him from the start.

“I’ll bet,” he huffed out a chuckle, choosing to sit cross-legged in the grass so he wasn’t towering over Tails like some kind of threat. “You like planes?” Sonic glanced meaningfully at the toy plane still discarded in the grass.

Tails glanced down at it, the tip of his tail in his mouth as he gently chewed on it. “Mmhm.”

Though Tails had long-outgrown the habit of chewing on his own tails, Sonic would still occasionally catch him nibbling on the ends of pens and pencils when he was deep in thought or starting to get hungry. Or, at least, he used to. Back before Sonic had been captured and Tails had been out on his own for six months…

“I like ‘em, too,” Sonic piped up with a grin. “Probably my favorite way to travel! Second to running, of course.”

Tails blinked at him, head canting to one side. Sonic’s smile grew and he scooched forward a couple inches, steadily closing the gap between them.

“Y’see, running’s sort of my thing. What kinda things do you like to do?”

Tails glanced down at the toy plane again, then up at the sky. He pointed shyly at the white, puffy clouds slowly floating by overhead. Sonic followed his gaze, unable to help the way his smile crooked to one side.

“You like to watch the clouds?” Sonic filled in for him, beaming when Tails nodded. “Me too. You ever look for shapes in ‘em?”

The little guy’s brow furrowed. “Shapes?”

Sonic laughed as the perplexed, and ultimately unconvinced, expression remained fixed on Tails’s face. “C’mere, I’ll show ya!”

Unceremoniously flopping onto his back, face turned towards the sky, Sonic patted the grass beside him. Though they were mostly shielded by the thick cover of trees, a light breeze still wafted down into the clearing and carried the salty scent of the sea with it. The stands of grass tickled Sonic’s side as he laid back and took a deep breath, listening for the familiar patter of eager footsteps following his lead.

Except they didn’t come.

Sonic pushed himself up onto his elbows. Tails was still curled up atop the tree stump, chewing on the tip of his tail as he watched him with worry in his eyes. Worry that had no place being there in a kid so young.

So Sonic cracked another smile. “Don’t worry. The floor’s not lava,” he teased, but it was something the toddler obviously didn’t understand. “It’s safe, bud. I’m not gonna hurt ya. Promise.”

Tails’s gaze darted to the treeline again, searching amongst their thick trunks and low-hanging branches before snapping back to Sonic. “Mm… s’pposed to wait here,” he mumbled, his words sounding a little thick as some of his syllables slurred together in a mouth that was still so small, but ultimately what he’d said was clear enough for Sonic to understand.

His smile slowly faded as he processed the simple explanation; the same feeling rising in the back of his throat as when he sat with a sick Tails in the cabin while the kid asked if he could go home. “Your mom tell ya that?”

Tails nodded. “Wait here. Be good.” His little face scrunched up in a look of pure, earnest determination. “Wait here an’ be good, then mom will come back. She said… she said.”

But she wouldn’t.

No one would.

And maybe Tails already knew that. Even if he didn’t want to believe that someone he loved would leave him, he’d always been a smart kid. Tails’s tiny claws caught in the fur of his tail as he clung tighter to it—like he could physically cling to the hope that his mom would still come back if he did this one thing really well.

If he did his very best.

“Look Sonic, I made this for you!”

“Sonic, I’ve made some adjustments to the Tornado’s aerodynamics, so her base speed has more than doubled! Pretty cool, huh?”

“I made a radar to help us track the Chaos Emeralds faster!”

“I still need to optimize your Extreme Gear’s turning radius and acceleration for your next race. It’s not good enough.”

“The Cyclone still has a ways to go in terms of balancing its different modes of transport. It’s just not good enough at land or air travel yet.”

“I’m wildly inconsistent. I’m just a burden to you. I’m not good enough.”

Not good enough.

Sonic’s fingers dug a little firmer into the soft, damp soil beneath the grass. “Well, I mean, ya gotta get off that stump sometimes. What about when you get hungry? You leave to go get food, dontcha?”

Tails stiffened, fur frizzed up like he’d been caught with his hand in the proverbial mint chocolate chip cookie jar. “Don’t tell,” he pleaded, eyes wide as panicked tears welled up. “I’m sorry—”

“Woah. Hey, hey, hey,” Sonic sat up straighter so he could lift his hands, using them to make a calming gesture as Tails’s little chest started to heave with each little gasp. “Easy there, bud. I’m not gonna tell her.”

“…Not?”

Despite the storm brewing just beneath the surface, faced with further confirmation that Tails had never truly felt safe or wanted, he refused to scare the kid with its intensity. Offering up a kind smile and reassurance, Sonic held up a finger to his mouth. Like they were keeping secrets from some nameless authority figure they’d never shared. 

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Tails’s ears perked up and the grip on his tail eased up. “M’kay…”

“M’kay,” Sonic mimicked, smile growing as he watched Tails scrub at his face with the fur of his forearm. “C’mere, kiddo. Watch the clouds with me.”

Tails looked at him for a moment, then scooted closer to the edge of the tree stump. He swung one leg over, then the other, his little boots scraping against the bark as he eased himself down. He was a little off-balance as he toddled over. Both arms splayed out to steady himself as one tail flicked up and the other was dragged behind him, still as limp and awkward as it had been on the stump.

Sonic’s gaze narrowed in on it immediately. “Didja hurt your tail?”

Tails paused and craned his neck back, wobbling a little as he tried to look behind him. “No,” he answered simply.

“Then how come it’s not up like your other one?”

Tails reached behind him and picked up the limp appendage, hugging it to his chest. “Doesn’t do it.”

Sonic’s frown deepened. “Let me see it.”

Tails didn’t even hesitate. He let go of his tail as he waddled right over to him. He turned his back to him, giving him complete access to the part of his body he protected the most. Sonic was the only one he’d learned to trust with them over the years, but he’d had to earn it. 

Sonic gently ran his fingers through the fur, watching his baby brother’s posture for any sign of discomfort. He didn’t flinch, but his good tail started wagging almost immediately, thwacking Sonic in the side of the face. 

“Careful with that,” he chuckled, catching it in a loose hold when it smacked him again. “You could take someone’s eye out with one of these bad boys. Here, hold onto this for me.”

He waited for Tails to grab onto his eager tail, hugging it hard when it wiggled uncontrollably. “S’tryna get away,” he giggled.

“Oh boy, better get a good grip. It’s a slippery one, that tail,” Sonic laughed, using the distraction to his advantage as he palpated along the base of the weaker tail with his fingertips.

There was barely any muscle to it, and the fur was patchy and matted, flattened in a way that his other tail clearly wasn’t, even though his fur overall could’ve used a good brushing. But it wasn’t injured, no welts or bruises or cuts. It was just… weak. Like it was developing slower than its twin. He’d caught a glimpse of it that night where he was sick, but now that he was getting a good look at it, the differences between the two were stark. He couldn’t imagine why; Sonic’s brain literally wouldn’t let him conceive of a situation where this would happen—where Tails wasn’t allowed to use one tail to the same extent as the other.

Whatever had caused this had reversed itself by the time Sonic met Tails, both little propellers of equal strength. At least, he thought they were. To be fair, he’d only been eleven and he hadn’t looked all that closely at them. And Tails barely let him patch him up from where he’d been smacked around by bullies or badniks in those first few weeks.

Idly petting along the length of his tail, Sonic stilled when it spasmed against his palm. Just looking at it, he’d have thought he accidentally pulled on it or snagged his fur, but there was a gentle rumbling sound emanating from Tails’s chest that assured him otherwise. Sonic flicked his gaze up to see Tails watching him, a smile on his face while he purred openly. His tail jerked in his hold again. It was trying to wag.

Sonic’s shoulders sagged, his own smile lopsided as he let his tail slip from his grasp. “All clear. Time to park those two tails of yours right here on the runway.”

Tails squeaked as Sonic nabbed him around the middle, but dissolved into a fit of giggles as he was lifted up and plopped down on the grass next to him. Kicking up one leg over the other, Sonic laid back once again, arms pillowed behind his head as he let out a contented sigh. Beside him, Tails laid back and wiggled a bit to get comfortable, both tails swept to the same side so they wouldn’t get pinched underneath him. He tilted his head up to look at the sky, the same color reflected back in his eyes.

“Shapes?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’re gonna look for shapes, little buddy,” Sonic hummed. “Go ahead and tell me what ya find.”

Tails considered the sky for a moment, then pointed at a blob above them. “Oval.”

A sharp laugh burst right out of Sonic. “Sorry, sorry,” he wheezed when Tails pouted at him. “Not those kinda shapes, pal. I’m talking things like flickies or flowers or chili dogs! But good first try. I’m thinking that one looks more like… a whale.”

“Whale?”

“Uh-huh. See the tail?” Sonic removed one hand from behind his head so he could trace the oblong cloud as it faintly curved upwards at the end, making sure Tails’s eyes followed where he pointed. “And there’s its fin. And the wispy bits at the top are like the water shooting out of its spout.”

“Spout,” Tails echoed, blinking up at it like he was trying to solve a puzzle. 

“Yeah, you know. Like when they come up from the water and all that mist sprays from that hole on top of their heads like…” A devious grin spread across Sonic’s face before he looped his arm around Tails and dragged him close enough to blow a raspberry against his cheek with a loud, “pbbbbbbfffft!”

Tails squealed, legs kicking as he squirmed about instinctively, but made no move to pull away entirely. The ticklish sensation buzzed through him like a bunch of tiny butterflies; the feeling silly, unfamiliar, and almost overwhelming all at once. He eventually pawed at Sonic’s muzzle, pushing it away from the fluffy, baby fur of his cheek, but he was smiling and laughing as he looked over at him, eyes shining with delight.

“Was that funny?” Sonic snickered.

“Yeah!” Tails beamed at him, his tails beating an inconsistent rhythm against the grass. “You’re funny.”

“I’m funny?” Sonic feigned offense. “Excuse me, but seems to me like you’re the funny one, wiggling around over here like a cup of sparkle gelatin!”

“No!” Tails squeaked, curling up when Sonic poked him in the tummy. 

“No?” Sonic eased back, reminding himself to reign it in a bit so he could figure out if the “no” was just in play or if he was serious. 

As much as he wanted to give this little guy something to smile and laugh about while he was out here on his own—and it was so easy, it was almost intoxicating when he hadn’t seen his brother’s smile in weeks—he didn’t want to overwhelm the kid. But as he let him go and pulled back, a panicked look flashed in Tails’s eyes. His smile fell and a fear that was too big for a guy so small replaced it as he froze up.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Sonic lowered his voice, but even that didn’t stop the tears from suddenly sprouting in the corners of his eyes. “Was that too much? Sorry, kiddo. Not really used to you like this. I don’t know your limits.”

Tails didn’t answer him, probably because he didn’t know how. He was a baby, after all. Four-year-old Tails had often had trouble expressing how he felt or what he wanted. And heck, even ten-year-old Tails was still facing that particular issue. He couldn’t expect a maybe-two-year-old to know…

Tails’s tiny paw reached for Sonic’s arm, the light touch barely registering as anything other than an itch before his fingers curled into his fur. Sonic stared at his hand for a second, then immediately darted to his face. Tails sniffed, muzzle quivering as he held back his tears.

Always sucking it up. Always putting on a brave face. Always trying to be a big kid, like his big bro.

Even when he was just a baby.

“It’s okay,” Sonic repeated, his arm curling around Tails again. “I’m right here, it’s okay.”

Tails nestled against his side, nuzzling his face against him with a shiver and a barely suppressed whimper. “Mom… dad…”

The storm returned with a white-hot flash of frustration and resentment. Sonic directed his glare at the cloud whale lazily floating past them, since he couldn’t look the people responsible for this in the eyes. Not that he particularly wanted to. If they never crossed paths, his and Tails lives would only continue on for the better. That was one thing he was still certain of. There was nothing in the universe that could convince him otherwise.

Not even the baby who desperately wanted them.

But he didn’t know any better. They were all he knew. 

Releasing a long sigh, Sonic let go of the past and pulled himself back into the present—or, well, two-year-old Tails’s present anyway. He patted Tails’s side, then ruffled his fur a bit when he cuddled closer. His fur tickled as he rubbed his little face against his ribs, so Sonic scooched him up a bit more until his cheek was pillowed against his shoulder.

“Sorry if I scared you, bud,” he hummed, watching as one of Tails’s ears twitched from the lull of his voice. “Didn’t mean to. You’re safe with me, okay? When I’m around, I’m always gonna do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Tails tipped his head back to watch him, silently absorbing his words, even if he didn’t understand them. But as Sonic looked down at him, he saw his four-year-old brother snuggling up to him in a storm and his six-year-old brother falling asleep on him during a movie and his eight-year-old brother trying to be strong for Sonic as they lost another friend… He could see all of Tails in the way he looked at him, every moment where he let Sonic see a little of that vulnerability he always tried so hard to hide.

He could even see his ten-year-old brother, hundreds of miles away, determined to bury that vulnerable little kid for good, somewhere Sonic would never find him. And that was fine. If that was what Tails wanted, then Sonic wanted that for him. He wanted Tails to feel confident and capable and every bit the hero Sonic saw in him every day.

“And even when I’m not here… when you can’t see me? I’ll still be with you. Wherever you go, whatever you face, you won’t have to do it alone.”

Tails sniffed, then lifted his head to gaze up at him. “Pomise?”

Sonic’s breath hitched, his eyes as wide as saucers as the fox kit who’d only known him for a few minutes at most looked at him with nothing but trust. “Yeah. I promise.” He had to clear his throat, then tugged Tails up to sit on his chest. “You’ve got no idea just how stuck with me you are, keed.”

“No idea,” Tails repeated, shaking his head with the utmost seriousness a two-year-old could express.

Sonic’s laughter traveled through him and right up into Tails, the two of them shaking with it. The feeling of being bounced about coaxed a few giggles out of Tails and he nearly slid off his unsteady perch. But Sonic’s hands supported him, holding tight so he wouldn’t fall.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Sonic choked out as his laughter petered out on a breathless sigh. “Don’t ever forget that, okay?”

“M’kay,” Tails agreed.

“M’kay.” With one hand remaining on Tails’s waist, Sonic lifted the other to poke him on the tip of his nose, grinning at the way he went cross-eyed from following his finger. “I’m gonna follow up on that in eight years, y’know, so better work on committing that to memory, stat.”

“M’kay.”

“I mean it. There’ll be a test and everything.”

“M’kay.”

“You’re so agreeable,” Sonic sighed, closing his eyes as he laid his head back, leaving the comfortable weight of the baby fox on his abdomen. “I don’t think I know what to do with a little bro that actually listens to me.”

He felt Tails squirm a bit, one knee digging into his ribs as he attempted to scoot further up, then a finger lightly tapped Sonic on the tip of his nose. One green eye cracked open, immediately greeted with a pair of pleased blue ones and a wagging fox tail. Despite the fact that it was pinned beneath him, pressed into the grass, Sonic felt his tail give a jerky little wag, too.

“Shapes?” Tails asked.

“You wanna look for more shapes in the clouds?” Sonic waited for Tails’s eager nod before turning him around and laying him back in the grass beside him. “You got it, bud! You need a redemption round, after all. Let’s see what kinda shapes you can find this time.”

Tails hummed, contemplative gaze fixed on the clouds for a good minute before he pointed slightly to his left. “Floor!”

“Floor?” Sonic squinted up at the cloud, making sure he was looking at the right one. “Oh, ‘flower!’ Yeah, that does kinda look like a tulip flower. Good eye, kiddo.”

Tails nodded proudly. “Mmhm. Floor.”

“Flower,” Sonic repeated, and even made the sign for it, touching each side of his nose with his fingertips, like he was smelling a flower.

“Floor-er.”

“Close enough,” he chuckled. “Oh, okay, now that one looks like a crab claw. Like from a crabmeat.” Grinning devilishly, Sonic made a claw-like grabby motion at Tails with his hand while the little guy laughed. “Or, y’know, an actual crab.”

They watched the clouds, picking more shapes out of them until Tails’s stomach started growling. Sonic quickly sped through the forest to gather up whatever kind of fruits or vegetables were available on the island, eventually settling on some peaches, plums, and cherries. He grabbed them from the other side of the island, so as not to take from anywhere Tails was likely to forage on his own. He liked the plums and peaches, the sticky juice staining his muzzle as it dripped from his hands. He kept trying to lick his fingers clean while Sonic wiped the fur around his mouth so it wouldn’t bother him later when it dried. He didn’t care for the cherries as much, but Sonic still left a small stash of them and the leftover peaches at the base of the tree stump.

With a full tummy and sticky paws, Tails let out a big, squeaky yawn before he curled up on top of the tree stump. His tails covered him like a blanket as he settled down for a nap, giving Sonic just the out he needed. He’d been debating how to head back to his present time without sounding any alarms for Tails. He honestly wasn’t sure he’d be able to if the kid just looked at him with those sad eyes, like he was being abandoned all over again.

But if Tails was asleep, then maybe this would all have felt like just a dream. Sonic had just wanted to check on him after leaving him so abruptly that first time, and then he figured it couldn’t hurt to give him one good afternoon. There would be so many days where he’d be on his own after this, so many months before their paths would cross. One afternoon where a stranger showed him kindness and played with him wasn’t going to break the time stream, but even Sonic knew it couldn’t really go further than that.

“I’d break time lines for that kid.” His own words echoed at the back of his mind, the certainty he’d felt at the time faltering when faced with the sleepy face of a baby fox who wasn’t supposed to have met him yet. It wasn’t so simple.

Sonic waited until Tails’s breaths were deep and steady, arms wrapped around the weaker tail while the stronger one blanketed him with its fluff. Smoothing down his bangs with his thumb, Sonic gently stroked the top of his head and scritched behind his ear.

“Love ya, little bro,” he whispered.

Things would be okay, Sonic reminded himself as he backed out of the clearing, picking up the two emeralds that were his ticket back to his time. Because they were okay in the present. Even if Tails wouldn’t be there when he returned, they would still be okay. Eventually. They always came out on top. Sonic still believed that.

If there was anything he still believed in above all else, it was Tails.

So, to be fair, when he left the Poloy Forest that afternoon, it had been with the intention that this wouldn’t happen again.

But then, Sonic the Hedgehog’s impulse control wasn’t his claim to fame, was it?

---

A/N: Anyway, just wanted to say thank you again, 0vergrown, and that I appreciate you so much! I'm so happy you're interested in this little side plot I've got brewing and all the angst potential that it holds <3 I have so many little scenes I want to write for them, you have no idea! Hope this scratches a bit of the itch for more of these boys who need so much therapy. So much...

And thank you everyone else who's also interested in this idea! Much love to all of you!

[sweetheartsofpanem]

She Fell First - Soft Things Survive

Previous Part

we get to see more of Y/N’s real personality here:’) i think i may love peeta and Y/N’s dynamic better than haymitch and Y/N’s lmao also i literally did a whole mapping of like how old her parents would’ve been during haymitch’s games and how old they were when she was born for it to like make sense that she’s 20 years younger😭 there might be mistakes in here but idk i’ve literally only gotten 3 hours of sleep these last few days, i’ll check for mistakes when i wake up later

warnings: refer to series masterlist

pairing(s): refer to series masterlist

word count: 3.17k

series masterlist | main masterlist

It starts with the ceiling.

Not in any grand, earth-shattering way. Just the way the light hits it in the early hours—soft and golden, stretching across the plaster in gentle streaks. You’ve been lying there for what feels like hours, blanket bunched at your waist, one arm flung over your eyes. Your thoughts are loud. Too loud.

You move your arm. Stare at the ceiling again.

Okay. So. Something’s wrong with you.

Or not wrong, exactly. Just—something. Something you can’t name, and that fact alone is infuriating.

You haven’t slept much since the lake.

Every time you close your eyes, you’re back there again: sunlight skimming the water, Katniss and Peeta laughing somewhere behind you, the cold lake biting at your skin. And him.

Haymitch.

In the water. With his arms crossed and his usual scowl, scar catching the light in a way that made your breath catch.

Not because it was a scar. Because it was his.

You groan and fling your other arm over your face.

Why does he make you feel like this?

It’s not normal. It can’t be normal. Your heart does this thing now—stops, then stutters, then tries to catch up all at once when he looks at you. It’s inconvenient. It’s confusing. You want to be near him constantly. You want to hear his voice, even if it’s grumbling. Especially when it’s grumbling. You want to know what it would feel like if he touched your hand and didn’t pull away.

You stare at the ceiling like it has answers.

It doesn’t.

You sit up slowly, dragging your hands over your face. Your hair is a mess, your heart won’t stop thudding, and you’re pretty sure you’re going to die unless you figure out what this is.

You need Peeta.

He’ll know what to do.

You’re not even fully sure if you brushed your hair. You just pull on a hoodie and stomp across the Victor’s Village lawn barefoot like the ground offended you. The sun’s barely up—early enough that the dew still clings to the grass, that the air smells like wet stone and lavender from Katniss’ herb garden.

You don’t care. You’re on a mission.

Their front door isn’t locked. It never is. You throw it open and march inside.

“Peeta Mellark,” you call, already halfway through the living room. “I need your brain.”

There’s a startled crash from the kitchen, followed by a muffled, “Jesus—Y/N?”

You appear in the doorway to find him in pajama pants, holding a wooden spoon like it might save his life. There’s something bubbling on the stove behind him, and flour dusts his chest like he lost a fight with a baking tin.

He blinks at you. “Do you… want toast?”

“I want clarity,” you announce, dramatically collapsing onto one of the chairs at the table. “I think I’m dying.”

Peeta lowers the spoon very slowly. “From what?”

“I don’t know.” You wave a hand. “Something horrifying. It’s making my heart do this stupid fluttery thing and my stomach’s being a weirdo and my brain keeps playing flashbacks like it’s a Capitol propaganda reel.”

He turns off the burner with a sigh and grabs two mugs from the cabinet. “How long has this been going on?”

You drop your forehead to the table. “Since the lake.”

Peeta pauses mid-pour. “Oh.”

You lift your head slowly. Narrow your eyes. “Why’d you say it like that?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You said ‘oh.’ That’s definitely something.”

He sets a mug in front of you. “And who, exactly, is starring in these little mental flashbacks of yours?”

You take the mug and squint at the steam. “No one.”

He waits.

You groan and let your head thunk back down. “Haymitch.”

Peeta doesn’t laugh. He just sips his drink calmly, like he’s been expecting this since the dawn of time.

You lift your head again. “Peeta.”

He hums. “Mm-hmm?”

“What the hell is this?”

“It’s called a crush.”

You stare at him. “No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“No. It’s—he makes me want to be near him all the time and also run away screaming.”

“Crush.”

“And sometimes when he says things, I forget what words are.”

“Classic.”

“I think about him more than is legally allowed.”

Peeta sips again. “That’s the one.”

You stare down at your mug, horrified. “This can’t be happening.”

He reaches over and pats your hand sympathetically. “Welcome to the club.”

You sit in stunned silence for a long moment.

Then: “Ew.”

Peeta finally laughs.

You take a long, scalding sip of tea like it’ll burn the feeling out of you. “Okay, but maybe it’s not a crush.”

Peeta leans on the back of a chair, looking entirely too smug. “Go on.”

You gesture vaguely with your mug. “Like—he’s my friend. Right? He’s Haymitch. I trust him. That’s huge for me. It’s probably just a trust thing. Maybe I feel weird around him because of, you know… trauma or something.”

Peeta tilts his head, all faux sympathy. “Because nothing says unresolved trauma like wanting to sit closer to someone every time they breathe.”

You glare. “I do not—”

“You do. You orbit him like a plant that needs sunlight.”

You clutch your mug tighter. “Okay, but maybe I just—like him. As a person.”

“I would hope so. You called him your emotional support grump last week.”

You look away. “That was a joke.”

“Was it?”

You scowl into your tea. “Look, I think it’s just because he gets me. And it’s rare. And it’s confusing, sure, but not romantic. I mean, my heart doing the whole skip-a-beat thing could just be—panic.”

Peeta stares at you.

You nod to yourself. “Definitely panic.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

He puts his cup down, comes to sit beside you at the table, and props his chin on his hand. “Yesterday you literally said, and I quote, ‘he makes my brain go fuzzy and my limbs feel like pudding.’”

You groan. “I was joking!”

“You were not. You were staring into space like you were watching a slow-motion Capitol soap opera.”

You narrow your eyes. “I think you’re making this worse.”

He smiles. “I think you’re in denial.”

“I think you’re enjoying this.”

“Deeply.”

You slap his arm lightly. “I hate you.”

“I know.”

You sigh, dragging your fingers down your face. “What do I even do with this?”

Peeta shrugs. “Nothing. Just… let it be what it is. Crushes aren’t terminal.”

You mutter, “Feels like it.”

He nudges your foot under the table. “You’ll survive. He’s not exactly going anywhere.”

You lift your gaze to meet his, finally quiet. “You really think that’s what this is?”

Peeta nods. “Yeah. I really do.”

You stare at your tea again, watching the steam curl up from the rim.

“Oh no,” you whisper.

Peeta pats your hand. “There it is.”

You drop your head to the table with a thud. “How am I supposed to see him after discovering this horrifying fact?”

Peeta leans over, peering at you. “Like you always do. With your whole face and everything.”

You lift your head just enough to glare at him. “This isn’t funny.”

He smiles. “It’s a little funny.”

You groan and bury your face in your hands. “I have a crush on Haymitch Abernathy. Haymitch. Haymitch.”

“Trust me, you’ve said it enough times to make it real.”

“I feel like my entire brain just committed treason.”

Peeta rests his chin in his hand again. “You’ve been making heart eyes at him for weeks. I was starting to think you knew.”

“I thought I was just… emotionally unwell.”

“Well, yes, but also—” He dodges the piece of bread you throw at his face. “—and you have a crush.”

You groan again, flopping back dramatically in the chair. “I can’t just casually hang out with him now. He’ll know.”

“He won’t.”

“He will.”

Peeta raises an eyebrow. “Y/N, the man once tried to climb onto your roof to fix a shingle and fell asleep halfway up the ladder. He’s not exactly tuned into nuance.”

You throw an arm over your face. “What if I blush?”

“You won’t.”

“I might.”

“You definitely will.”

“Peeta!”

He grins. “You’ll be fine.”

You peek at him from under your arm. “You swear?”

“On my bread flour.”

You snort. “That’s sacred.”

“Exactly.”

You sit up slowly, clutching your tea like it might ground you. “Okay. Okay. So I have a crush. I just… won’t do anything about it. Easy. Simple. Fine.”

“Famous last words.”

You shoot him a look. “I’m going to deny this until I die.”

Peeta grins. “I’ll carve it into your gravestone.”

You sigh, leaning back against the chair again. “This is a nightmare.”

He nudges your foot. “It’s kind of sweet.”

You glance at him, eyes narrowed. “Don’t say that.”

“I won’t. I’ll just be here, silently judging.”

You groan again, dragging a hand through your hair. “I hate feelings.”

Peeta lifts his cup. “To feelings.”

You clink your mug against his. “May they die in a fire.”

You sit in silence for all of three seconds before your face twists again.

“Oh my God. He’s literally only four years younger than my parents. This is so gross.”

Peeta chokes on his tea. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

You clutch your forehead like the weight of your revelation might actually crush your skull. “What is wrong with me? There are young people out there. People who don’t make dramatic noises when they sit down or threaten puzzles.”

“He’s Haymitch. That’s what’s wrong with you.”

“I need a lobotomy.”

Peeta raises his eyebrows. “And here I thought you needed therapy.”

“Both. I need both.”

He sips his tea, far too calm for your spiraling. “Hey, for what it’s worth… you seem happier lately. Calmer.”

You squint at him like he just suggested something offensive. “So you’re saying the problem is that he makes me feel good?”

“I’m saying the bar is on the floor and Haymitch tripped over it into your heart.”

You drag a hand down your face. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“You want toast for the road?”

“I want to go back in time and not feel like this.”

“You could just avoid him forever,” he offers, ever so helpful.

You blink. “You’re right. I’ll fake my own death. I’ll move into the woods. Change my name to Pinecone.”

“Pinecone?”

“It’s a strong name.”

“You’ll last three hours.”

You sigh and lean forward again, resting your arms on the table. “What if it doesn’t go away?”

Peeta just smiles at you—soft, kind. “Then it’s not just a crush.”

You groan for the sixth time in ten minutes. “I hate you.”

He grins. “You love me.”

You shove his shoulder. He shoves back, gentle.

And then he says, “Hey.”

You look up.

“It’s not a bad thing. Feeling stuff. Wanting something good. It just means you’re still here.”

You nod, slower this time. “Still here.”

A pause.

Then—

“Still grossed out by the age thing, though.”

Peeta nearly spits out his tea. “Pinecone, please.”

The floor creaks behind you and you both glance up just in time to see Katniss shuffle into the kitchen, hair a mess, eyes squinting against the morning light like it’s personally offended her.

“Why are you guys being so loud,” she mutters, voice gravelly with sleep.

Peeta doesn’t even blink. “Y/N’s in love with Haymitch.”

You make a noise so high-pitched it might only be audible to birds. “Peeta!”

Katniss stops mid-step, blinks once, then zeroes in on you. You attempt to melt into the table.

She frowns. “You’re being weird.”

“I am not being weird,” you lie, instantly and with conviction.

“She’s being very weird,” Peeta confirms helpfully, grinning behind his mug.

Katniss just stares at you, arms crossed. “Your face is doing a thing. The thing where you’re lying.”

You throw your hands up. “I am not in love with Haymitch!”

Katniss raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t say you were.”

You freeze.

Peeta sips his tea. “Oh no.”

Katniss narrows her eyes at you like she’s trying to solve a particularly annoying puzzle. “Wait. Are you?”

“No!”

She tilts her head.

You crack. “Maybe! I don’t know! I came here for answers and instead I’ve been bullied for thirty minutes!”

Katniss stares for another long second, then walks to the counter, grabs a cup, and pours herself some tea like this is the most boring thing she’s heard all week.

You watch her, waiting for her to make fun of you or say something awful. Instead, she just shrugs.

“Could be worse,” she says.

You blink. “…What?”

She glances over her shoulder. “He likes you.”

Your throat makes an uncomfortable, traitorous little noise.

Peeta goes, “Wait, what?” at the exact same time you say, “What?!”

Katniss just sips her tea. “Don’t ask me for details, he hasn’t said anything. You two just flirt like idiots. It’s not that hard to see.”

You cover your face with both hands.

Peeta looks far too pleased. “This is the best morning of my life.”

Katniss yawns and leans against the counter. “I need toast.”

You peek through your fingers. “Can we pretend this conversation never happened?”

Katniss shrugs again. “Sure. But he’s probably thinking about you right now. With your dumb face and your lake hair.”

You groan into the table.

Peeta pats your back. “You did this to yourself.”

You stand abruptly, nearly knocking over your chair in the process. “I have to go. I need to be alone. To process.”

Peeta blinks. “You’re being dramatic again.”

“I’m being normal about a catastrophic revelation.” You clutch your hands to your chest like you’re starring in a tragic Capitol opera. “I’m going to bury myself under a blanket and think about my life choices.”

Katniss, already halfway through a piece of toast, says, “Tell Haymitch hi.”

You point a finger at her, eyes wide. “No.”

She shrugs. “He’s probably outside.”

Peeta stifles a laugh behind his mug. “Good luck with your… emotions.”

You spin on your heel, ignoring the snort Katniss doesn’t even try to hide, and storm dramatically toward the door—because if there’s one thing you’re allowed today, it’s a dramatic exit.

You're halfway to your house when you finally look up from scowling at the ground.

And immediately freeze.

Because of course he’s there.

Haymitch is sitting on your porch, legs stretched out, flask in hand. The chair creaks slightly as he tips his head back against the siding. He doesn’t notice you at first—his eyes are closed, face tilted toward the sun like he’s soaking it in.

You hesitate, already halfway turned back toward Katniss and Peeta’s. Go back inside. Flee. Pretend you forgot something.

Then he cracks one eye open and looks right at you.

“Morning,” he says, voice low and scratchy from disuse. “You look like someone just told you your house burned down.”

You blink. “Uh. Hi.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Something wrong with your legs or are you planning to stand there and stare all day?”

You scowl, forcing your feet to move. “I’m walking. Look at me go.”

“Impressive,” he mutters. “Really showin’ off that coordination.”

You step onto your porch, trying not to look like a person freshly struck by the realization that she might be in love with the grumpy man currently roasting her in flannel pajama pants.

He watches you settle into your porch swing like it’s a normal day. Like you’re not falling apart inside. Like your heart isn’t beating in your throat for reasons you don’t want to examine too closely.

You stare straight ahead, voice carefully even. “I came home to be alone.”

He takes a lazy sip from his flask. “And yet, here I am.”

You glance sideways at him. “You’re always here.”

Haymitch meets your eyes, something unreadable flickering across his face. “So are you.”

Your stomach does something annoying.

You look away first.

You want to go inside. You should go inside. There’s tea to be made, and laundry you could pretend to fold, and an entire house you could pace just to burn off the nervous energy clawing at your ribs. Sitting here on the porch isn’t helping—especially not with him three feet away, looking entirely too comfortable in the morning light.

And yet. You sit.

“You look like you’re contemplating something real stupid,” he says, not even looking up from the flask he’s fiddling with.

You blink, drag your gaze away from his profile, and try to assemble your thoughts into something that doesn’t sound like I think I like you and it’s ruining my life.

“Just thinking,” you say.

“Dangerous habit.”

You hum, forcing a casual tone. “Was debating going inside.”

“You should,” he says. “You look twitchy.”

“I am not twitchy.”

“You’re twitchy,” he insists, nodding sagely.

You narrow your eyes. “Maybe I was gonna go inside. And now I’m staying just to spite you.”

He smirks. “Knew the stubborn streak’d kick in eventually.”

You lean back against the porch railing, folding your arms. “You always this annoying or is it a skill you’ve been perfecting?”

“Oh, honey,” he says, flashing you a grin. “This is me being charming.”

You bark a laugh—short, sharp, unexpected. “Terrifying.”

“Works on some people.”

You do not let your face react to that. You do not let your brain react to that. You simply look out at the road and pretend your skin doesn’t feel too warm, like every word he says soaks a little deeper than it should.

Silence stretches. Easy. Familiar. Murderous to your current mental state.

Eventually, he shifts, glancing over at you again. “You’re not gonna start doing something weird, are you?”

You blink. “Define weird.”

“I don’t know. Like, start crying or confessing your undying love or something. You’ve got that look.”

You choke. “What look?”

He waves a hand. “The talking-about-feelings look.”

“I do not have that look.”

“You do.”

“Take it back.”

“Nope.”

You glare at him. He looks far too pleased with himself.

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter.

“Aw. I missed you too.”

You roll your eyes and tip your head back against the swing. The sky above is clear, soft blue fading into late afternoon gold.

Haymitch settles deeper into his chair, opening his flask and taking a slow sip.

You glance at him, trying to sound snarky. “Why are you even on my porch?”

“This chair is more comfortable than the one on my porch. Plus you usually aren’t awake this early so I don’t have to deal with you being a brat.”

“So I’m ruining it?”

He tilts his head. “Enhancing it. Just barely.”

You exhale, pretending that doesn’t feel like a compliment. “You’re in a good mood today.”

“You’re easy to bother. That helps.”

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. And when the silence falls again, you let it. Even though your pulse is loud in your ears. Even though your hands fidget in your lap. Even though you could absolutely get up and go inside right now.

You don’t.

You stay.

Next Part

[milkkytxars]

(This is not going to be like my other posts but I think it's nice, bear with me for a bit)

Something I said got a bunch of likes on twt a few days ago, but I can't stop thinking about it so I wanted to expand on it a bit! (And I like rambling on about these things, nothing you can do on twt I assure you, this gets a bit lengthy)

Here's the interaction for reference:

OK SO! First things first: PV's awakened form, one way or another, IS a direct representation of the Fount of Knowledge. Or well, at the very least it's what we've been shown to be the most idealistic form of him.

We can't know for sure how the Fount of Knowledge actually was like or acted, because Shadow Milk will never get vulnerable enough on screen to let the audience know such things, but if the statue of him is anything to go by (and not a fabricated lie) then we have something to work with.

The Fount of Knowledge has a key opening in the middle of his chest, and coincidentally, he's also carrying his soul jam on his staff which has the form of a key. This could be interpreted as him having the answers that others' (cookies) can unlock.

However, if we pay closer attention to the pictures, we'll see that the Fount's key is a bit "weird"

As you can see, not only are there two teeths in the key, but there's also a large space from the end of the staff to the point where the first teeth appears.

If someone were to literally try to insert this key into Fount's keyhole to try and get it open, it would pierce through Fount! The key is simply too large, and it doesn't seem like complicated teeth would actually fit inside the hole either.

Now, let's see Pure Vanilla's staff!

As you can see, he only has one teeth right at the bottom of the key. This is how most functional keys look!

One interpretation could be that Fount never actually held the key towards true knowledge, which is a fault that made him fundamentally imperfect towards his greater purpose. Another reason why he fell into deceit in the first place.

Pure Vanilla, however, as holder of the light of truth, also holds a functional key as his staff. He carries that truth with him and plans to open up a path to himself and keep finding out new truths of the world.

His key isn't going to open all keyholes, just as the path he leads isn't going to let him find everything there is to know, but if he holds the truth close to his heart (therefore, the soul jam at his chest) he will continue to follow the light.

But let's circle back to Shadow Milk.

He is the beast of deceit, and he hides so much of himself that you could even call his whole current identity a lie, as if he was trying to be deceit incarnate just like he once was the representation of knowledge.

Let's remember now, that we can interpret the key hole on his chest when he was Fount as an opening to himself, and therefore, to knowledge.

Basically the truth of himself, if I'm making any sense with this.

When he turns into Shadow Milk though, where does he hold his soul jam of deceit? Right where the keyhole was! Essentially, he's obscuring the truth of the world and of himself with lies.

Now, what does Pure Vanilla say at the end of BY8?

He says that he is the one who can understand him best, that he's the only one who can understand Shadow Milk.

And while it's mentioned that it's because of their shared soul jam, this is not the only reason why.

Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla are very important to each other, in whatever way you want to see it. They're essential to each other's story and development.

In the end, the reason why they can understand each other so well is because they're pretty similar. At least in the way they feel, or have felt, about the world.

There's a reason why Pure Vanilla turned into Truthless Recluse after all. Even if it was for a short amount of time, those were still his real feelings, and they mirrored Shadow Milk's own.

The fact that Awakened Pure Vanilla holds a key is to find his own truth, and this fact cannot be diminished. However, I think it would be a disservice to his character and their relationship if it's not also acknowledged that Pure Vanilla's truth fundamentally involves Shadow Milk's true self too.

Fount of Knowledge, as much as that's a discarded persona, it's also a part of Shadow Milk he cannot erase. And Pure Vanilla understands this the same way he understands that Truthless Recluse was a part of himself too.

Pure Vanilla's staff as a key, exists to unlock the hidden lock Shadow Milk has buried deep into his past. Because Shadow Milk's truth is also Pure Vanilla's truth.

That's why he embraces deceit, because Shadow Milk is deceit. And Pure Vanilla tries to make Shadow Milk embrace the truth too, that's why he asks him to be his friend.

Pure Vanilla is truth, so by asking Shadow Milk to be friends with him, he's asking him to embrace truth.

This entails Shadow Milk accepting his past, which Pure Vanilla has the key to unlock now with his awakening and the arduous journey he underwent in the spire to find himself. A key that has long been tossed away by Shadow Milk when he stopped being the Fount of knowledge.

Therefore, while Pure Vanilla's key can't crack open every lock in his way, it is designed by default for its priority to be opening Shadow Milk's heart/soul.

(One last thing would also be that Pure Vanilla's staff, from having a light, technically is also traversing through the darkness in Shadow Milk. I don't want to go into too much detail because this is better explained by this post, go check their stuff out on both of their accounts, it's really good!)

♪♪♪

Anyways, that's it, thank you for coming to my Ted talk. Maybe I'll post another analysis in the future if this is well received lol (I have this idea of PV's awakened form being Fount's but reverse if that makes sense???)

Bye now ❤

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Animal reference photo compilation concept test!

I've been saving this project for a new website I'm planning, but that's been delayed by the grindstone of capitalism, so I'm going to set up this part early. This is the concept test for a repository of reference photos of a whole bunch of different species of exotic animals.

For every 50 or so photos I take of an animal, there's generally only a couple that I like and are also in focus and also framed correctly. But that led me to realize... all those slightly blurry or off-center photos are probably a great set of references for people interested in general shape/form/movement for their art! So I'm setting up of the idea before fully committing the time into making it happen.

I've been going through my photo backlog and pulling out the shots I think will be useful for art references. Lots of them show posture, facial movement, close-ups of feet or eyes, and walk cycles, but also other behaviors like jumping or drinking. They're not perfect - there's often stuff out of focus or reflections on the glass - but I think they'll still be useful for art?

The link below is to the Dropbox where I'll host these photos until I eventually get that new website/project up and running. Right now I've got folders of four species uploaded for this test: California Condor (CW for carcass feed photos), Jaguar, Komodo Dragon, and Moose. Please go check them out and tell me what you think!

~~WADTT Animal Reference Photos Dropbox Link~~

What I'm looking to learn from y'all is:

Is this type of reference photo repository useful / worth doing?

Do these photos work or are they too blurry/wonky/there's too many?

What things would make a project like this better? (Caveat, it has to stay on Dropbox for now).

If this turns out to be as useful as I'm hoping, and the photos work, I've got a whole bunch more species to upload.

[soularsss]

Drawing Likeness: with Tem!

okaay since a few people actually showed interest in me sharing a bit of what I've been doing to figure out how to really capture likeness, specifically Temuera Morrison, I figured id do my best to write it out

I am also going to entice you with some of my recent clone art! (oooh some of it is unreleaaasedd)

I am putting the whole thing under the cut because I have a feeling its going to be long:

Read more!!!

a couple disclaimers before we start

-This is not some definite post about how everyone should be drawing clones, nor is it in any way claiming that this is the right way. This is just my musings as I stare at a mans face for way too long and try to replicate it

-I am inexperienced. As kind as you all are to me, drawing real people is relatively new to me, capturing a persons identity through their features is difficult for anybody, and I am no different. I have watched many a video on likeness and had my share of classes, but If im being honest, i rarely put it into practice successfully. So there'll probably be errors in this post or things i will come back to in a few months and wish I had said/done differently

ANYWAYs you guys get my vibe im just here to ramble and today we are rambling about mr copy paste. I am doing this for Law, my clone boy, because I plan on delving further into oc fanart and I want to put effort into representing him correctly!

SO LETS BEGIN

Before even deciding what specific pose of a person I want to draw, I tend to grab a bunch of references and compile them like so

(all of these can be found on my pinterest)

Why so many? Well, we are about to delve into facial features, so when we are dealing with photos we have to take into account that there are an abundance of circumstances that will influence how a persons face will appear, some of these include:

focal length: All of these are taken on different devices, and focal length can play a big part in distorting faces

age will play a part, your face changes a bunch throughout your life!

lighting, while not as major, can muddy the waters and make it difficult to interpret facial planes and features

SO, to make sure we get a proper grasp of what's really going on, I like to make sure we have lots of options to compare and contrast with.

Next up! What I like to do is block out the main facial features with colour on different layers, the features I block out usually are the general face shape, eyebrows, eyes, nose and lips. But what you are looking for is the defining features of a person, so that could include other things! Maybe a scar, or some particularly prominent cheekbones.

I dont have any rhyme or reason when it comes to picking my colours, all that matters is you can see all the shapes clearly.

Now I may be biased, because Ive been staring at these for 4 hours, but notice how it still looks like Tem? :D

Anyways, now we can break these parts down, and you'll see what I mean about compare and contrast:

We'll start with isolating the facial shape, putting all these next to eachother you'll notice they arent exactly the same (partly because of my shoddy work) But the distinguishing features run through each shape! Namely the very soft rectangular shape I sketched out in the bottom right there. Along with his soft, wide jaw structure.

I did the same for the rest of his features!

You'll notice I highlight the prominent shapes and ratios,

When drawing anything, it is important to start from the very base shapes and build up.

When drawing something you want to look like someone, those shapes relative to other shapes is what makes it look like them.

I didnt use the same technique with his eyes and lips, but I wrote out some helpful info for them! More importantly for his eyes.

When drawing eyes, I find the most important part is where exactly I draw the creases, (along with the overall shape of the eye itself) it is important to understand where those will present themselves with hooded eyes.

NOW, with an understanding of his facial features in place, lets take a detour to colours:

before I start, a couple things to note:

-Temuera morrison versus the clone troopers in the animated shows:

While I love the animated shows they don't exactly stay close to their source material. Im going to link here to an excellent post discussing whitewashing specifically in relation to the clones.

Temuera is Māori, of Te Arawa (Ngāti Whakaue) and Tainui (Ngāti Maniapoto, Ngāti Rarua) whakapapa, and also has Scottish and Irish ancestry.

The Māori people are the indigenous Polynesian people of mainland New Zealand (Aotearoa). Māori originated with settlers from East Polynesia. Māori people often vary in skin tone, Skin colour doesn't determine ethnicity. There's often a correlation but it's not a requirement.

But that is a tangent! What we are aiming for is to stay true to Temuera.

Bringing back my reference photos from before, Ive colour picked a buncha values and theyre all over the place. Why doesnt this work?

Similarly to earlier, you have to take into account the photos themselves. Many things like lighting, colour grading (when it comes to filmography) and makeup, can alter how a skin colour presents in photo.

You can attempt to get true to life by swatching from certain places on the face. Here I've tried to pick some photos with good lighting, and I've also tried to avoid overly lit/shaded areas.

Tem has a very warm, tan skin tone, Instead of colour picking I tend to try and replicate it myself, but I do often bring in references to make sure Im staying true to the source!

a brief intermission to talk about colour theory, something I myself struggle with alot. Often, when putting in flat colours without a background, I will forget to make sure the colours i intend to use will work with the skin tone i have picked! (something that is apparent in older works of mine, not just in relation to clones, but in general, the colours I end up with stray largely from their original sources and it is something I am doing my best to keep in mind and improve in! Although I don't think i am nearly experienced enough in the topic to say I have succeeded yet lol.)

anyways back to Tem :))

Now we can put all of that into practice! Things to keep in mind when drawing out a piece next to a reference like this:

the distance between the eyebrows? how far down his face does his nose go? Basically just, in relation to eachother, where do all those shapes we found earlier, sit?

The screenshot above is from before I did it myself, but instead of directly tracing from the reference, a handy trick I use it to complete your sketch first, and then overlay a traced version to see where your inconsistencies are! Alternatively, you could move your sketch over the image, but I didnt do it that way so!! uh!! im sure it works exactly the same!!!!

When it comes to a final illustration, or any sketch that isnt a direct study, of course you can push and pull and stylise! You'll see below that I'm not exactly 1:1 to my reference photo either.

The important thing with stylisation, or at least my own personal understanding of stylisation is that you need to thoroughly understand the thing you are stylizing! "You need to know the rules to break them" and all that. While shapes, lines and rendering can change, when it comes to drawing someone, and making it look like them, you have to make sure to keep their core features true to source. Caricature can capture a persons vibe whilst drastically exaggerating features, but it will only look like them if you KEEP THOSE FEATURES!!!! SHAPES!!! AHHH!!

But that is just my perspective on the discussion of style versus realism, please dont take is as Law, I dont know what Im on about half the time!!

anyways, after fixing your sketch, add local colours!

I rexified him because why tf not! But this is where you can go crazy with that clone personalization!

And then here is a very very barely rendered version (if you guys want me to explain how i RENDER that would need to be a completely different post, and I havent had anyone ask about it yet so who knows! maybe one day) But I digress, hopefully you learnt something new through my ramblings! It has certainly helped me organize my thoughts and I have also found some areas I would like to focus more on in the future to improve my own art!

TLDR: In order to understand an object, be it a face or a building or literally anything, you have to break it down to its simplest forms, understanding LARGER shapes will help you immensely in the long run

If you guys like this sorta content do let me know! I'd be down to do similar things for armor/anything really, I am very anti gatekeep so really anything at all you want to know! Send me an ask :))

also if you see a spelling mistake.. i don’t know how that got there