#i wonder if anyone is on rn anyways?? o no
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razzle-zazzle · 1 year ago
Text
Brothers
9650 Words; Between AU, pre-canon
TW for death
AO3 ver
Gristle Junior was seven months and eleven days old on the day of his first Trollstice.
Or rather, he was seven months and eleven days old on what would have been his first Trollstice, were it not for the lack of trolls. And the day had started so well, too, anticipation electric in his veins as he bounced around his father’s room. He had been so ready to taste true happiness!
But the Trolls were gone, fleeing underground despite the best efforts of Chef’s underlings. Not a single Troll had been recovered, Gristle had been told, and from what little he had been able to see of the commotion—from the swinging shovels and pickaxes he had glimpsed in the plaza as he was being shuffled away from the action—supported that notion. Surely, if Trolls were being found, then surely there would be much less frustration.
But the day passed without a single Troll eaten. Gristle’s father, for who he had been named, had taken him aside to calmly explain that with no Trolls, Gristle would never be happy. Not ever. Nothing else could possibly work.
To a Bergen less than a year old, such words were absolute. And why should Gristle doubt his father? The King had lived for decades, an extent of time which felt like an eternity to Gristle Junior. Surely, if there was anyone who could know everything, it would be the King.
Gristle was seven months and eleven days old on the last chance he would ever have to know true happiness. The date clung to his mind, the damnation of eternal misery heavy in his chest. To a Bergen so young and inexperienced with the world, there could be nothing worse.
Chef was disgraced. Not a single Troll recovered, in all of that mess? Her exile was quick and loud—Gristle watched from the castle door with his father as Chef was bodily thrown through the gates, shouting curses he strained to hear. With a sigh, Gristle moved to turn away from the door, prepared to ready himself for bed.
“Your Majesty!” Two Bergens hailed down his father, bowing the moment the King’s eyes were on them. “We found…” The Bergen on the left had his hands cupped together oddly, perfectly concealing whatever would be inside. With a nudge from his partner, he bowed again, holding out whatever it was to the King. “We found this at the tree’s edge.”
Gristle Junior turned back towards the door, pressing against his father’s legs to peer at what was so urgent it couldn’t wait for daylight. The air was thick with anticipation as the Bergen’s fingers slowly parted, revealing what was delicately clasped in his hands.
It was a Troll.
Gristle’s eyes widened. His father inhaled sharply, peering down at the tiny shape curled in the palm.
The Troll stared up at them with wide eyes, curled in on itself and shaking. It was so small. How did creatures that small even exist?
The King hummed, leaning in further. Gristle Junior was quick to imitate, peering at the tiny Troll even more intently. This brought to light a detail that had been previously overlooked—a detail that seven month and eleven day old Gristle had no filter against pointing out.
“It’s gray.” Gristle said, peering down at the thing. Tiny, too. Could something so little really bring him happiness? “Is it sick?” He poked at the Troll, and it flinched back with a hiss, tail clutched in its paws.
“Inedible.” Gristle Senior growled out. He turned bared teeth to the pair before them. “Your effort is appreciated.” He said, “But there’s no use for a Troll that’s gone bad.” The King sighed, moving to reenter the castle. “Do as you wish with it.” He dismissed. “My son and I…”
Gristle Junior reached for the Troll. “It’s so small.” He whispered, staring down at it. Small and gray and baring blunted teeth in an approximation of a snarl… He looked up at the pair, eyes wide. “Can I have it?”
The Bergen holding the Troll hesitated, before tilting his hands towards Gristle. The Troll squeaked as Gristle scooped it up, voice tiny. Gristle squealed, clutching the Troll and running back inside, the rest of the world forgotten.
The Troll turned bewildered eyes up to Gristle. It trembled, shouting as Gristle turned a corner, but Gristle paid no heed to anything but the sheer novelty of his idea. His very own Troll! There was hardly much of a plan in the toddler’s head, but a simple idea was all Gristle really needed at his age.
Gristle bounced into his bedroom, Troll in hand. He moved to set the Troll down on the desk—
“Son!” Gristle Senior’s voice was seldom so loud—but when it was, it commanded attention from everyone in the area. And indeed, Gristle Junior turned his attention to his father, the Troll still squirming in his hand. “What are you doing?” Gristle had never heard his father at such a loss.
“Keeping it.” Gristle Junior said.
Gristle Senior walked across the room and peered down at the Troll on the desk, trapped between Gristle Junior’s hands. “A pet is a lot of responsibility, son.” He pointed out.
“You say the same about being Prince.” Gristle Junior responded.
Gristle Senior jolted slightly, taken aback. “That… is true.” He conceded. “But it’s a Troll.” He poked the Troll in question, sending it stumbling backwards onto the ground. “It will just get eaten.”
“But you said gray Trolls are inebidable!” Gristle Junior lifted the Troll—his Troll, up with cradled hands, pressing it against his chest. “That they’ve got no use, which means that eating them can’t do anything!”
“Inedible.” Gristle Senior corrected gently. He lowered down, to be closer to his son’s eye level. “Son, be realistic. The kingdom just lost all of its Trolls. Trollstice has been a tradition for more than a century. The shock of no more Trollstices will make the people desperate.”
The Troll stared up from Gristle Junior’s hands with wide eyes. Tiny claws too small to do any damage dug into Gristle Junior’s hand.
Gristle Junior huffed. “But they gotta listen to you, Daddy. You’re the King.” The people had listened when the King declared Chef exiled; Gristle had witnessed just that less than an hour ago. “If you say that my Troll is inedidible then nobody will eat it!”
The King sighed, tired and heavy. “You’ll need something to keep it in.” He advised. As his son cheered, he turned to the door, and made his way across the room. Once Gristle Senior reached the doorframe, he turned back to his son one more time.
“If I wake up tomorrow and find that thing is running around the castle, I will feed it to Barnabus.” He threatened. His face immediately lightened, and he left the room with a single, cheery, “Goodnight, son!”
Gristle Junior nodded at the closed door with the utmost seriousness. He turned back to his Troll, who he set on the desk gently. “Hear that?” He asked. “You stay in here, or else.” With that, Gristle propped his face up in his hands, leaning forwards. “My name’s Gristle. Yours?”
The Troll crossed tiny Troll arms and glared up at him. “I’m not telling.” It said, in a voice that reminded Gristle of the mice Barnabus ate.
“Then I’ll just give you one!” Gristle chirped. “How about… Trolly!”
“No.”
Gristle frowned. “You’re getting a name, no matter what.” He huffed, poking his Troll in the side. The Troll stumbled a bit, but remained standing. “You’re so grumpy.” Gristle noticed. “Just like… a Bergen…” He trailed off, something approaching realization creeping up his throat.
The Troll snarled. “Not a Bergen!” It insisted, tail smacking the desk.
Gristle stared. “You…” His eyes lit up. “You and I are gonna be best friends.” Gristle decided, poking his Troll again.
The Troll’s response was simple. Gristle yelped, yanking his hand back. The Troll fell over, rubbing at its mouth with tiny paws, and Gristle stared at the tiny teeth marks on his finger.
The Troll glared mutinously, as if daring Gristle to come within biting range again.
Gristle nodded. “Yep! Best friends!”
+=+=+=+=+
Gristle Junior was nine months and two days old when he learned the Troll’s name. He had been poring through a pet care magazine, oo-ing and ah-ing over the different kinds of pets that Bergens kept. From alligator-dogs like Barnabus to even frog-crows!
He had hit the section for small pets, though none of the kinds commonly kept by Bergens were as small as a Troll. He looked over at the custom cage his father had had commissioned for his Troll, from the pod taken from the abandoned Troll Tree to the sandy substrate in the basin. As usual, his Troll was down on the substrate, pressed into the corner while it worked its way through safflower seeds.
“Look!” Gristle held the magazine right up against the cage bars, pointing at the circled bird perch. “How does a swing sound? I bet you’d have a lot of fun with it, Trolly.” He didn’t expect a response—the Troll rarely ever spoke back, content with glaring and darting away when Gristle reached into the cage.
Which meant it surprised him all the more when the tiny creature spoke. “Branch.”
Gristle opened his mouth to continue speaking—stopped. “What?”
“Branch.” The Troll repeated. “My name is Branch.” Its eyes were locked resolutely on the sandy substrate, shoulders hunched and tail thwap-thwap-thwapping against the corner.
Gristle gasped. “Oh!” He’d never thought—he—Branch—
“That’s a weird name.” Gristle finally decided, leaning in. “Are all Trolls named like that?” He couldn’t quite read well enough to digest all the books he’d found about Trolls (or that had Trolls on the covers), so his only real source of information was what former Troll-handlers Chad and Todd (or was it Todd and Chad?) could tell him, when he saw them. Which wasn’t often.
Branch gave Gristle a deer in headlights look, a helpless sort of “how-would-I-know” conveyed through body language alone. Paws clenched and unclenched against the seed held between them.
Gristle shrugged, and went back to the magazine. “So,” He said, “You never said if you wanted a swing.”
“Don’t bother.” Branch huffed. “I won’t use it.”
+=+=+=+=+
Gristle Junior was five years old when his father led him into his study for the first time. The younger marveled at the book-filled shelves and neatly organized desk, at the candle holders set into the wall and the banners hanging down—this room was his future.
“My son,” Gristle Senior began. “What you will be starting today is a time-honored tradition of Bergen Royalty.” His voice had a practiced lilt, a deep timbre made of years of self-assurance. “For no Monarch rules Bergentown alone—it is the duty of Princes and Princesses to run the kingdom in concert with the reigning monarch.”
“Whoaaa…” Gristle Junior hopped up and down to see atop the desk. “I’m a Prince!” He realized, whirling around to face his father. “So I have to help you run!”
Gristle Senior chuffed. When he spoke, there was pride in his voice. “And that is exactly what you will start learning today.” He lifted his son with one arm, sitting down behind the desk and settling Gristle Junior in his lap. “Now,” He pushed a stack of books from the edge of the desk to the center. “Here are the best volumes to start with…”
The lesson continued on throughout the rest of the morning. After lunch with his father, Gristle Junior returned to his room with the stack of books he had been given, ready and willing to learn. He pushed open the door, and made his way over to the desk right next to his bed.
“There’s so many books I need to read!” Gristle lamented. “How am I ever going to learn it all?” He’d have to, though, to be a proper Prince of Bergentown. And he would! Bergens were tough, and royal Bergens were said to be the toughest of all! So Gristle would be the best Prince! No book could defeat someone as tough as him!
He was starting with history. But there was so much! He held out the book to Branch’s cage, showing off just how thick it was—and it was all pre-Trollstice, too!
Branch squinted at the tome, then returned to his digging. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. Which was weird, because Trolls were supposed to live in trees—every book Gristle had read on them said so. But the pod in Branch’s cage—taken directly from the Troll Tree, no less—remained just as empty as it always had. There was even dust building up along the top!
“I mean, how in the world am I ever going to remember all this?” Gristle slammed the book down on his desk, prying it open. He was glad for Branch—the Troll was a good listener, in the five year old’s eyes.
The Troll in question poked his head back up, ears twitching. “Are you going to read it, or are you just gonna complain?” He asked, before going back to the hole.
“Right.” Gristle turned his attention back to the book. Slowly, he began, sounding out the words as best he could.
“The first re-cor-did history of Bergenkind dates back to… three… fow-sand years ago.” He began. “When Fow-ler the First wrote the… the first ever Law.” He continued reading, stumbling over words while Branch continued digging. Gristle let the history wash over him, entranced in the task set before him. Hours passed, and Gristle found himself being called down to dinner before he even registered that so much time had passed.
Three days later, Gristle found himself staring at a worksheet in frustration. He was supposed to fill it out without looking at his books, and he was struggling.
“UGH!” Gristle threw his head back, clutching at his hair as he seethed. “How can I remember the name of the first Bergen to write a law but not when?!” He smacked his head against the desk, groaning in frustration. The urge to go to his shelf and pull out the relevant book itched down his spine—but he had to hold strong! A good Prince knew how to look things up, but a great Prince could recall whatever detail was needed when it was needed.
Oh, how was Gristle ever supposed to be a great Prince?
“The first recorded history of Bergenkind dates back to three thousand years ago.” Branch said, casually breaking the frustrated silence. “That’s what your book said.”
Gristle looked at Branch’s cage, where the Troll was busy jotting stuff down on a scrap of paper. Gristle then looked over to the book on his shelf. Slowly, he pushed out his chair and went over to the shelf, opening the book to the first page.
“That’s…” He turned back to Branch. “You’ve got a good memory.” He said, returning the book to the shelf.
Branch muttered something that Gristle didn’t quite catch. Gristle shrugged, and went back to his worksheet. He’d have to read aloud to Branch more often, if Branch could remember stuff so well.
With a hum, Gristle continued on with the worksheet. It probably wasn’t in the spirit of the challenge to have a friend who could remember a lot of words, but Gristle wasn’t concerned at all with that notion.
He continued to talk to Branch as he worked, something light in his chest with the knowledge that Branch really was listening.
+=+=+=+=+
Gristle Junior was six years old, and he and Branch were having a real good row. The kind of row that, had they been proper siblings, would have only been able to be settled by some proper Bergen roughhousing, with weapons and property destruction. A real riot-causing dispute.
It was hardly their first disagreement—Gristle had the faint bite scars all over his fingers to prove it. But it was certainly frustrating, born from weeks of buildup over a simple fact.
“It’s not healthy! Trolls are supposed to sing!” Gristle gestured to the book in his hand, which was way more useful than all the cookbooks he’d found. It actually went a bit into Troll health and growth, detailing all the ways and times that Trolls could become inedible. As Branch was, and had always been gray—or at least, as long as Gristle had known him—the book in question proved very useful.
“Well I don’t!” And that was the crux of the situation, the simple fact from which all of this had spawned. “And I never will!” Branch’s stand was resolute, unshakeable, even in the face of all of Gristle’s Princely Rage.
“But you have to!” Gristle insisted, gesturing again to the page he had the book opened to. “Trolls that don’t sing—this book isn’t very nice about them!” He was fumbling, he knew, but he didn’t know how else to say it. The book said that gray Trolls were to be removed from the Troll Tree and disposed of immediately. It didn’t say why, and Gristle was still a child—he didn’t question the words presented as fact. As far as he could tell, a Troll that had gone gray was just… it wasn’t right!
“You’re supposed to be happy.” Gristle pushed. “You’re supposed to sing, like a regular Troll.”
“Never gonna happen.” Branch insisted. “I’ll stay unhappy, just you watch!” He crossed his arms with a huff, tail twitching angrily.
“That’s not good!” Gristle responded. “You have to get your color back eventually!” The book said nothing about whether Trolls could regain their color after losing it. But it wasn’t right, for a creature so intertwined with music to never make a single note. And if the book said to get rid of gray Trolls…
Gristle cared about Branch, more than he could feasibly admit. The castle staff were fine, and his father was his father, but Branch—Branch was a friend. Someone Gristle could talk to who would actually listen, no matter what it was.
The book said it wasn’t healthy for a Troll to go gray. Gristle was going to be King someday, in the far distant future, and he’d be responsible for all of Bergentown. Even sooner, he would be a fully fledged Prince, responsible for helping his father with Bergentown. If Gristle couldn’t even take care of one tiny troll, then what were his chances of ever being good at what he was literally meant to do?
“And then what?” Branch gripped the bars of his cage, rage in every inch of his body. “You’ll eat me?”
“Of course not!” Gristle could never! Branch was… Branch was his friend! Inedible by Royal Decree! Gristle would sooner eat Barnabus!
“You’re lying!” Branch yelled back. “The moment I become edible you or some other Bergen will be serving me up on a silver platter!” His tail lashed about wildly, tears bubbling up at the corners of his eyes. “Because that’s all Trolls are to you!”
Gristle flinched back. He… he refused to admit it, but Branch had a point. Trolls were the only way that Bergens could ever be happy, and they had spent generations with a holiday dedicated to that very thing. But…
“You’re different.” Gristle insisted. Branch was his friend. “You’re not… you never sing and you’re always unhappy.” He huffed. “It’s like you’re barely a Troll at all!”
This time it was Branch’s turn to flinch, tail falling flat against the ground. “Maybe you’re right.” He said quietly, turning away from the bars.
“Branch, I—” Gristle reached out, only for his hand to fall back down when Branch glared at him.
“Fine, then.” Gristle grumbled. “We’ll just be unhappy together.” Between the two of them, Branch was the only one who had even a chance to ever be happy—Gristle would never get to eat a Troll with all of them gone, but Branch… Branch was a Troll. If anyone would ever get to be happy, it would be the creature who was quite literally made of the stuff.
“Fine!” Branch sat down hard on the substrate, arms crossed and turned away from Gristle. “Unhappy together!”
It felt like a promise, like a finality.
It felt like Gristle was failing hard at this whole “taking care of others” thing.
+=+=+=+=+
Gristle Junior was seven years old with a form in his hand. He stood before Branch’s cage, expanded over the years to include deeper substrate and a small climbing tree. The… well, it felt weird to call him a Troll, when he was nothing like Gristle’s books, but what else could he be called?
A Bergen. At least, that was what he’d be if Gristle’s idea went through.
“I’ve been learning about law.” Gristle began, with no real preamble. Branch looked up from his orange slice, ears twitching, but made no comment. “And I found out something interesting.” He took a deep breath, and glanced at the memo in his hand. “Adoption Laws, Section Two. In the case of a non-Bergen being adopted by a Bergen or other being of Bergen citizenry…” Gristle hurriedly looked at the memo again, “They are considered, in all aspects of the law, a Bergen, with all of the rights and restrictions that such a designation entails.” He let the memo flutter down to the floor and looked down at Branch, who was staring up at him with wide eyes.
Branch clenched and unclenched his paws against the half-eaten orange slice in his lap, tail flicking behind him. “...what.”
“Listen.” Gristle leaned in close, holding up the form in his other hand. “If I adopt you, then you wouldn’t be in any more danger of being eaten!”
Branch squinted. “Aren’t you a little young to be a parent?” He asked, orange slice seemingly forgotten in his lap. “And I’m older than you.” He pointed out, somewhat bitterly.
“Ew! No! Not as a son!” Gristle waved his arms wildly, then pressed the form against the bars again. “As a brother.” He clarified. “Because… you’re more of a friend than a pet,” Gristle explained, “And it’s not fair to keep treating you like one. A pet.” He carefully gaged Branch’s expressions, watching as his face flickered through a series of emotions. “All you’d need to do is sign on this line…”
“It can’t be that easy.” Branch groused, tail flicking faster. “Bergens don’t do ‘easy’.”
“Well,” Gristle rubbed at the back of his neck, “We would have to get approval from Dad for it to go through.” He rallied, clenching his free hand in a fist. “But that’s easy! I mean, he let me keep you!”
“As a pet.” Branch stressed. He set the orange slice aside, brushing off his paws as he stood. “That’s totally different.”
“And that’s why I want to do this!” Gristle unlatched the cage door, not bothering to reach in—he had long since learned that Branch hated being picked up unexpectedly. Better to let Branch come out of the cage on his own terms. “Because what kind of Prince treats his friend like a pet?”
Branch’s expression fell, his shoulders hunching. His paws clenched and unclenched in the rhythmic way they often did, his tail flicking. Carefully, slowly, Branch clambered out of the cage, climbing down the flipped out door to settle on the smooth wood of the shelf. Gristle held out his hand, palm up, and Branch hopped onto it, letting himself be lifted over to the desk.
Gristle laid out the form. He’d double-checked every word to make sure it was exactly what he needed, and all that was left was to sign it and have it approved. Gristle had already signed it, his name penned in only slightly messy ink. Penmanship win!
Branch pulled a tiny quill from his hair, hopping up to gently dab it in the inkwell on the desk. As Gristle watched, Branch kneeled down in front of his line, and carefully signed his name.
“Think that’ll be enough?” Gristle asked.
Branch hummed. “Maybe…” He tucked the quill away and went back to the inkwell, hopping up and leaning so far in that for a moment Gristle feared he’d fall in. Branch kicked the side and lifted himself back and out, clambering over to the form and slapping right next to his name with his paws.
Two inky paw prints, right next to his name. “That should do it.” Branch decided, satisfied.
Gristle nodded, offering his hand again. As Branch hopped onto his palm and clambered up Gristle’s arm to his shoulder, Gristle grabbed the form carefully, blowing a bit to make the ink dry faster.
“Let’s get this done!” Gristle declared, running off to go find his father. It wasn’t the first time Branch had left Gristle’s room, nor the first time that Branch had ridden on Gristle’s shoulder. But it was the first time since the belled harness had been made that Branch had left the room without the jingle of bells signaling his every movement. Gristle realized it was weird, actually, to feel the weight on his shoulder and not hear the sound of bells he’d come to associate with that weight. But the harness was from when Branch was still a pet in everyone’s eyes—it wouldn’t do to make Branch wear it now.
And really, Branch was like a Bergen, in a lot of ways. He never sang or danced, he was disagreeable—even the gray of his short fur was similar to the average Bergen’s dull tones. Whenever he had something to work on, be it the den he’d dug or even old worksheets Gristle tried to downsize for him, he took to working on it just like a Bergen: with a grumble and the focused spirit that allowed Bergens to create sturdy walls and buildings. And he had interesting insights, too—Bergens disliked great heights, so even the castle couldn’t get very tall, but it was Branch who gave Gristle the idea to suggest subterranean expansion when the King presented the age-old issue of expansion logistics. Which was just funny, because Trolls lived in trees—yet Branch never once touched the dusty pod hanging in his cage.
Branch settled down on Gristle Junior’s shoulder, tucked just below Gristle’s ear. Gristle found a sudden bounce in his step, a mix of anticipation and excitement in his veins. Yeah, this whole adoption thing was a great idea! Maybe even the best Gristle had ever had!
Finding the King was easy—it was just before lunch, so King Gristle Senior would be just finishing up with the final petitioners in the biweekly levee. Normally, Gristle Junior would be sitting in his own princely throne beside his father, to listen and watch and get a general idea of how a levee worked—but he had… kinda skipped it, what with how eager he was to try out the adoption idea. Not that that was a major issue—Gristle Junior wasn’t meant to fully step into his duties as Prince until he was ten.
Still…
“Ah, there you are.” King Gristle Senior groused, shifting slightly in his throne. “Care to explain why you missed today’s levee?”
Gristle Junior stopped short, nodding his head in a bow. “My apologies, Father.” He kept his tone careful, regal, like he’d been taught. “I found something that needed attending to.” He explained, head still down.
Gristle Senior snorted. “Well, out with it, then.” He waved his hand encouragingly as his son looked up. “What grand idea did you come up with this time?”
Gristle Junior’s mouth pulled back in an odd way, and he fought the strange expression off of his face. With a simple flourish, he drew out the form, holding it out towards his father. “This.”
Gristle Senior took the form, glancing it over. His expression remained neutr—his eyes widened, as the contents of the form properly registered. The King’s expression scrunched, turning thunderous, before going down to mere annoyance. He turned that annoyance upon his son, and all but sputtered out, “What in the name of Berg is the meaning of this?!”
“It’s an adoption form.” Gristle Junior explained, pressing his hands together. He felt Branch shift slightly on his shoulder, and he held out a palm. Branch took the offer, sliding down Gristle’s arm to stand upon his hand, small and gray and steady.
“I can… see that.” Gristle Senior hissed through ground teeth. “But…” His expression became just as lost as the night that Gristle Junior had first met Branch. With a deep sigh, Gristle Senior looked down at his son and the Troll.
“Letting you keep a Troll as a pet is one thing,” The King began, “But adoption? Of a Troll? Are you insane?”
Gristle Junior felt oddly gobsmacked. “It makes sense.” He tried, unable to keep childish uncertainty from his voice. “Branch is the most unTroll Troll ever, he’s just like a Bergen and I think it’d be best if he was called as such, because then nobody would even think to eat him!”
Gristle Senior sighed, heavy and tired. “That’s not a good enough reason.” He started. “Son, do you have any idea what would happen if that… thing were to become your brother?”
“It’d be a serious crime to eat him.” Gristle Junior responded easily.
Gristle Senior brought up his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, grumbling too low for Gristle Junior to make out the words. “...of all the—” With a rumbling groan, Gristle Senior regarded his son with a firm—but not wholly uncaring—expression. “You’re a Prince, my son. You can’t just go adopting every creature you see fit.”
“It’s just Branch.” Gristle Junior pushed back, “He’s already close enough to a Bergen, what’s adding the legal distinction going to do?” He shook his head. “This will all work out, Dad, I know it. I just need you to trust me.”
“Son, be realistic.” The King groused. “If that thing becomes your brother, then that makes it a Prince. There’s no way a Troll could be a Bergen Prince! Trolls are all about loud parties and sugar and silly games—they’re simply unsuited to laws and regulations and the hard work required to run a kingdom!”
Gristle Junior’s mouth opened—to say what, he wasn’t sure, but air was being forced up from his lungs and defiance was roaring in his heart, ready to burst out what would surely be a useful and clever retort—
“I can do it.”
As one, Gristle Junior and Senior turned to look at Branch. Branch took the combined attention with hunched shoulders, his tail clasped in his paws. “You want me to learn how to help run a kingdom? Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll learn.” He dropped his tail and crossed his arms, expression firm.
“I don’t want you doing anything of the sort.” Gristle Senior growled, but Gristle Junior was already rallying.
“He can! Branch is smart, Dad, he’s where I got the idea for underground expansions from! He remembers all the stuff I read, and he listens, and he’d make a good Prince!” All of his reasons were true and proven—which meant a lot, for seven year old Gristle Junior.
“Preposterous!” Gristle Senior began—
“If you think it’s so preposterous,” Branch’s voice cut through the room like alligator-dog teeth through mice. “Then why not bet on it?”
Those three words echoed in the sudden silence of the room, bouncing off the vaulted ceiling and tangling up in the eaves. If there was one thing Gristle Junior knew his father could not resist, it was a wager.
Indeed, Gristle Senior’s face had turned contemplative, his hands steepled before him. “A bet, you say?” Something like satisfaction slithered its way onto his face. “Hmm, I think I see what you mean. A trial period, of sorts, is that it? To find out if you could even come close to being a Prince?”
Branch nodded.
“Yeah!” Gristle Junior agreed. “If Branch can prove himself then you have to let the adoption go through!”
Gristle Senior snorted. “Sure, fine.” He waved his hand dismissively, before turning his attention to Branch. “But when that little creature fails to keep up the pace, I’m burning that form and you’re going to put any wild ideas of adopting Trolls out of your head for good.” He glared down at the pair, lips curled in a derisive snarl.
“You have three weeks.” Gristle Senior declared. “Better get started.”
+=+=+=+=+
Gristle Junior was seven years old when he became a brother.
The wager had been… not as hard as Gristle expected. Branch had thrown himself into the challenge with a fervor that was only seen with master artisans undergoing hefty commissions. It had taken a lot of work, in those three weeks, but at the end of it all—
The cage had to be redone, renovated into a proper bedroom. The castle staff found itself expanded by two—Bernice and Groth, who had been hired to aid in the fiddly and sometimes frustrating art of turning tiny, Troll-sized writings into something that could be read by the average Bergen. Branch needed new clothes, and a proper bed, and a shelf for all of the Troll-sized copies he’d made and was making of the various books on Law and history and regulations, and had to attend meals and levees and lessons with Gristle, and—
It was so much. Gristle had known, when he had drafted that first attempt at an adoption form in the castle library, that things would change—but he had never quite imagined the sheer scope of it all. Suddenly, his brother was accompanying him everywhere, riding on Gristle’s shoulder or flinging himself through the halls with his hair. Gristle had heard some of the staff discussing pathways for Branch, where he’d be safe from being stepped on—
There was so much.
But…
Gristle had never had a brother. He had had a friend, in Branch, but it had taken so long for them to really get there. And now, despite how it had felt like the world was ending on that fateful failed Trollstice, all those years ago—
Gristle couldn’t imagine that day going any other way. He didn’t want to imagine a world in which he never met Branch, who was surely a Bergen in Troll skin. Branch was his friend—no, his brother.
“Hey, Branch?” Gristle rolled over and looked at the shelf that Branch’s things currently resided on, at the cage hurriedly covered with a sheet in an approximation of a proper room with real privacy. Late at night, in his unlit room, it barely looked like a cage at all. “Do you ever think about the day we met?”
Branch’s voice filtered down from the shelf. “Not really.” He admitted. “Why should I?” There was something oddly bitter in his voice. “It’s the day I was left behind. Again.”
Gristle Junior wasn’t sure how to unpack that. Or if he ever should. “I won’t leave you behind.” He promised, “‘Cause brothers stick together.” It felt like such a simple truth, to the seven year old Bergen.
There was silence from the shelf. It stretched on, almost uncomfortably so, feeding into the static of the darkness filling the room.
Gristle huffed. “You really are just like a Bergen.” He commented, “Always miserable.” He chuffed, something light in his chest that he didn’t fully register. “And that’s why you know we’ll always stick together.” He said, staring up at the darkness clinging to the ceiling.
“Unhappy together, then.” There was something soft in Branch’s voice—he must have been tired after such a long day.
Gristle sighed. Unhappy together. It sounded like a promise, like a finality.
It sounded like he was finally getting the hang of this whole “taking care of people” thing.
+=+=+=+=+
Gristle Junior was ten years old when he was properly crowned Prince.
The day had been rife with tradition, from a breakfast banquet stocked with imported delicacies to the event itself out in the plaza. The old Troll Tree, withered from its abandonment, stood tall in the center of the space, dominating the whole scene no matter how Gristle Junior tried to look at it.
He fiddled with the clasp on his cape—his Princely cape, paired with his new crown to signify the change in status. The festivities weren’t exactly celebratory—the whole ceremony amounted to more of a town meeting, but with the best catering the royal kitchens could provide. Bergens of all kinds wandered about the plaza, taking advantage of the free food while Gristle Junior—Prince Gristle Junior watched on from his father’s side.
Branch—no, it was Prince Branch, now—stood to Gristle’s side, on a small platform made entirely for the occasion. His own blue cape and silver crown had to be custom-made, instead of passed down, but neither of the brothers were bothered by that fact.
“I still don’t understand how Glixry managed such tiny details.” Gristle commented, focusing in on the silver metal of Branch’s crown. “It even has tiny metal leaves!”
Branch reached up, touching the edges delicately. “It feels so weird.” He decided. “But… not bad.”
“Of course not! You’re a Prince now!” Gristle assured him. “Stand tall and proud, like a proper Bergen.” Gristle commanded, repeating the words he had heard so many times.
“Yeah…” Branch let his paws fall back to his sides, almost hidden under the edges of his cape—but Gristle didn’t miss the way they clenched and unclenched repeatedly.
Branch was older than Gristle, true. But the fact remained that he had started learning later, so it had been decided to crown them both when Gristle came of age, and not a moment sooner. So here they were, brothers crowned together, all of Bergentown around them.
There would be so many more responsibilities, now—Princes helped the reigning monarch run the kingdom, after all. They’d still have to learn as they went, but—
Gristle breathed in deeply. The Bergens—his people—they were all miserable. But they were hardworking and honest, and Gristle would do his best to be the Prince they deserved.
Gristle turned to look back at his brother, who was fiddling with his own cape clasp. Glixry had repurposed one of the bells from Branch’s old harness for the clasp, and even now it still faintly rung as Branch slowly paced around his little platform.
There was an odd expression on Branch’s face, satisfaction and an oddly melancholy contemplation firming his brow. Gristle huffed, snapping his little-big brother from whatever thoughts he was lost in. Gristle offered his hand, and Branch rolled his eyes before hopping onto Gristle’s palm.
As Gristle lifted his brother high above his head, something proud surged in his chest, light and electric in his veins. His face twitched in that odd way it sometimes did, but Gristle ignored the feeling in favor of looking out over his people once more.
He was going to be the best Prince Bergentown had ever seen! He and his brother both!
+=+=+=+=+
Gristle Junior was eleven years old when Branch finally pupated.
His book on Troll growth said that Trolls pupated when they were twelve or thirteen. It also went on about how Trolls were utterly inedible in this state, wrapped in their cocoons as their bodies changed and matured.
That Branch’s pupation had come late according to the books was worrying. That it had come at all was a stark reminder of the fact that, for all of his Bergen-like traits, Branch was in some small way still a Troll.
Gristle peered at the dark gray hair cocoon for the umpteenth time. None of his books said anything about whether Trolls could still hear in there, or even what really happened to them outside of “maturation”—all the book really cared to go over was how to identify a pupation cocoon, and that they couldn’t be eaten.
“Even if you can’t hear me,” Gristle began, settling back down with an interesting book he’d found—some kind of romance novel where none of the characters actually got together in the end. He’d heard the librarian going on about how it was a contemplative piece about the nature of connections, so he’d picked it up to go through. “But if you can’t then I’ll just read this book to you all over again when you’re out.”
The cocoon gave no discernible response. Gristle decided that that was fine, and began to read. He made it through a chapter and a half before being summoned for dinner with his father, and he gave the cocoon one final glance as he left the room.
“I see your… brother isn’t joining us again tonight.” Gristle Senior commented, as the first course was brought out.
“I told you, Dad, he’s pupating.” Gristle Junior huffed, licking sticky roe off of his fingers.
“Yes,” Gristle Senior nodded. “Trolls do do that, I’ve heard.” He went silent as the second course arrived, digging in with royal fervor. A few moments later, and he spoke again. “Hopefully this whole thing doesn’t set him too far back.” He commented airily, dabbing at his face with a napkin.
Gristle Junior scowled over his plate as a servant exchanged it for the bowl of soup acting as the third course. “Branch always keeps up.” He asserted. “And we won that bet fair and square, so you can’t go back on your end no matter what.” He sipped from his spoon with a pointedly royal slurp.
“And I have no intentions of backing out.” Gristle Senior slurped just a little harder. “I’m just curious.” And with that, the conversation was over.
Gristle stared down at his soup. Branch would keep up. He would. He always did.
+=+=+=+=+
Gristle was eleven years old, and he was getting concerned.
Nineteen days. The books said that Trolls only pupated for a week, tops. But it had been nineteen days since Branch had disappeared into the spun cocoon, eyes glassy and unfocused. Nineteen days of a silent cocoon.
Gristle had long since finished that first romance novel, and the book on fence safety regulations, and was almost halfway into a book on the history of anchovy farming. And the cocoon still remained!
The worry was starting to affect his Princely duties, too. Maybe it was because he was used to working alongside Branch, and the absence was getting to him, but there was no denying it: Gristle was concerned. But what if trying to crack the cocoon open early ruined everything? What if he was supposed to crack it open, and he’d missed the deadline? What if being gray really was bad, and Branch…
Gristle didn’t want to think about it. He really, really didn’t.
The sun had long gone down when Gristle finally put his books away and retired to his bed. He glanced at the cocoon one last time before extinguishing the lights, worry like a rock in his gut.
The night passed. The sun rose again, creeping into Gristle’s bedroom through the window until it smacked against his eyes. With a groan, the eleven year old sat up, shading his eyes with a hand. He glared at the offending celestial body. “Every day.” He muttered. “Every day, you do this.” He was about to continue—
“Are you yelling at the sun again? Really?”
Gristle yelped, jolting hard enough to fall off of his bed entirely. He flailed wildly, scrambling to clamber back to his feet, frenetic energy in every inch of his suddenly-impossibly-awkward limbs.
“Branch!” Gristle leaned up against the shelf, examining the shredded remains of the cocoon through the door of his brother’s room. His little-big brother stood beside it, already having pulled on some pants. “You’re okay! You were in there for really long!”
Branch shrugged, walking over to his wardrobe. “Well, I’m here, so you can quit your whining.” There was a fondness in his voice that had Gristle rolling his eyes.
“Your tail’s still gone.” Gristle noticed. A lump settled in his gut, hard and heavy. “Branch…”
Branch turned around, twisting to look and confirm Gristle’s words. “Eh.” He shrugged, and turned his attention back to his wardrobe. “‘S not like it matters.” He decided, picking out a shirt to wear under his cape. “Bergens aren’t supposed to have tails anyway.”
Gristle winced. It was true, Bergens were tailless—but if they had tails, they certainly wouldn’t—
Gristle shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that. “Sooo,” He started, as Branch was securing the belled clasp of his cape. “How do you feel?”
Branch carefully placed his crown back upon his head, then walked in a small circle. “I don’t know, stronger?” He tried, holding his paws out in front of himself and examining them. “I think my balance is better, actually.” He noted. As if to illustrate the point, he did a twirl, his cape flaring slightly with the motion. “My face feels kinda… hm.” Branch pressed at his jaw with his paws, before shrugging it off. “Whatever. Are you gonna get ready, or am I doing all your work for you today?”
“Oh!” Gristle whipped back around, running for his own wardrobe. “Right!” As he shrugged on his own cape, clicking the clasp into place, he turned back to glance at the shelf holding his brother’s room.
Gristle sighed, all of his worries abated. Why would he ever worry? His family was just fine, and would be for a long, long time.
+=+=+=+=+
Gristle Junior was thirteen years old when he finally had to admit it.
He’d always hoped he’d get his father’s height, that he’d be able to stand as tall as the average Bergen in his adult years. But it had become clear that he would always be half average height, always doomed to needing steps to get onto the taller chairs.
It wasn’t the end of the world; Bergens could come in a range of shapes and sizes. That Gristle was so short wasn’t that big of an issue.
But Berg, did it feel like it! Gristle had spent his whole life looking up to his father—metaphorically and literally! And he was probably going to be stuck looking up forever!
“What are you moping about now?” And there was Gristle’s little-big brother, padding along one of the many paths set into the castle walls. The masons and carpenters had done good work with those paths—when Branch wasn’t running along them, they looked like simple wall decoration. It was real classy.
“I’m never gonna be tall.” Gristle grumbled, allowing himself a moment to lean against the wall in despair. Then he remembered who he was talking to, and hurriedly pulled away, flailing his hands as he tried to recover. “I mean—not that being short is a bad thing—”
“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there.” Branch groused, holding out a paw. “Because from where I’m standing, you are not short.” He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms in front of him.
“I am, though.” Gristle lamented. “Most Bergens are twice my size. I mean, just look at Dad!”
Branch rolled his eyes. “At least you’re not Troll-sized.” He hopped down from the path along the wall to land atop Gristle’s head, just next to the crown. “Gotta count your blessings there.”
“I dunno,” Gristle started, swiping at his brother as the tiny Bergen pattered about on his head and ruffled his hair, “Maybe being Troll-sized would be nice. I could ride Barnabus around the halls with you.” He didn’t fully mean it—being the size of a Troll in a castle made for Bergens constantly forced Branch to find workarounds to even the simplest of things. But if anyone could manage it, it’d be Branch.
And Gristle had to admit: the idea of being able to ride on an alligator-dog, even one as old as Barnabus, was really cool. But Gristle was too big for that, and too big for his old trikes—all while being too small in so many other ways. It was like he was caught between, stuck at a size that would annoy him forever.
Branch dodged away from Gristle’s hand easily, chuffing when Gristle accidentally sent his own crown flying down the hall. Gristle growled, running after it, shaking his head in an attempt to throw Branch off. But his brother held on easily, always infuriatingly good at roughhousing despite his size.
It just wasn’t fair.
But, as Gristle replaced his crown on his head, and as Branch slid down to settle on Gristle’s shoulder, Gristle brushed away the annoyance.
It wasn’t the end of the world. Not by a long shot.
+=+=+=+=+
Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when the unthinkable happened.
His father, King Gristle Senior, who had always been an unshakeable force, strong and proud in a kingdom full of strong and proud Bergens—
Gristle Junior couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true. It just—it wasn’t supposed to happen like this!
But there was nothing that could be done. His father had fallen ill three months ago, and, despite every effort from every doctor in Bergentown, despite all of the King’s strength—
Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when his father passed from illness, gone overnight like a snuffed candle flame. Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when the title of King passed onto him, far too soon—he should have remained a Prince until he was a proper adult, until he was married with children who would become the Princes and Princesses that would help him run the kingdom—
Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when his world shattered for the second time. The funeral was held out in the plaza, barely a week after his father’s passing. The same plaza as Gristle’s first and final Trollstice, as his and Branch’s official crowning as Princes. It felt as though every major life-changing event in Gristle’s life happened here, the caged tree looming over it all like a shadow.
It still… it just couldn’t be possible. His father couldn’t just be… gone.
Gristle returned to the castle in a daze. Some distant part of him knew that he would have no choice but to take up his father’s crown, and soon, but—
The rest of him was sinking slowly, the grief thick in his throat and veins and head. The fog was all-consuming, pulling Gristle into depths of unhappiness he’d never thought possible.
Gristle had believed his first and last Trollstice, the day where he lost any chance to ever be happy, would be the worst day of his life. Oh, how wrong he was.
Gristle didn’t know how long he laid like that, staring up at the ceiling of his room without seeing anything at all. It was as though the world around him had well and truly shattered, and now the pieces had all fallen away out of his reach. Gristle floated on the nothing for what felt like an eternity and now time at all, the mire in his head growing thicker with every passing second.
“Hey.”
Gristle rolled over on his bed, pressing his face into the comforter to block out the rest of the world.
“Hey.”
What was the point? Gristle was never supposed to be King at fifteen. He’d probably mess it up, bungle the whole thing, and then all of Bergentown would be just as dead as his father.
“Hey!”
Gristle groaned, shoving his face into the comforter. He didn’t have the time or patience for this, his whole world was falling apart, why couldn’t he have a good cry about it in peace—
Something small landed inches away from Gristle’s head. He didn’t even need to look to know who it was—only his little-big brother could land so lightly.
“Hey, idiot.” Branch pushed at Gristle’s chin, lifting the Bergen’s head off the bed by a few inches. “Chin up.” He demanded, baring his teeth.
Gristle forced his head back down onto the comforter. “Leave me alone.” He growled.
“Mm, nope.” Branch declared, moving around to pull at Gristle’s ear. “You’ve been in here long enough,” he sniffed, “And you need a shower. C’mon.” He pulled, and Gristle had to put effort into staying in place.
“No.” Gristle grumbled. “Just let me rot.” Every inch of his body ached with the grief clinging to his bones, and the very thought of getting up and doing anything made him want to vomit. The whole world made him want to vomit.
“Can’t let you,” Branch said, his voice edging into genuine worry. “C’mon, at least eat something?” He tugged at Gristle’s ear again, darting away as Gristle irritably swiped at him.
“I said,” Gristle pushed himself up ever so slightly, just so he could look Branch in the eye, “leave me alone!”
Branch shook his head, paws clenching and unclenching. “You’ve been alone.” He said. “I can’t leave you. Brothers stick together.” There was something heavy in his words, some deeper meaning than a childhood promise.
“And how are you supposed to help?” Gristle asked, sitting up fully. “What could you possibly do to make this better?”
“Not let you smell like a rotting carcass, for one.” Branch snarked. His expression immediately softened. “You need to take better care of yourself.” He urged. “Letting yourself rot only makes it hurt worse. Please.”
“And what would you know?” Gristle accused. “You and Dad barely even liked each other!”
“You think I don’t know what grief feels like?” Branch spread his arms wide, tears beginning to bubble up in his eyes. “My Grandmother was eaten on Trollstice before you were even born! DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO GRIEVE!”
Gristle flinched back. All of his vitriol drained as Branch panted. “You…” Branch never talked about that, about those four years he’d spent in the Troll Tree. Gristle’s throat tightened as a wave of emotion hit him anew, his eyes beginning to sting.
“It hurts.” He sobbed, for lack of anything better to say.
Branch’s anger melted away. “I know.” He said, sitting down. “It hurts, and you want so badly to just curl into a ball and wish the world away—”
“But you have to pick yourself back up.” Gristle finished. “Because people are counting on you.”
“Because nobody else will.” Branch added softly.
Gristle sobbed, breathy and uneven. “I miss him so much, Branch.”
Branch nodded. “I know.”
“I’m not ready to be King!” Gristle’s face was wet, now, hot and sticky with snot and tears.
Branch nodded again. “I know.”
Gristle sobbed again, his whole body shaking with the motion. He opened his mouth, but no words came.
“It’s not okay,” Branch offered into the silence, scooting forwards, “And that’s okay.”
“It hurts.” Gristle whispered.
Branch nodded. No more words came, and Gristle continued to cry. All of his misery poured out, raw and real and painful, and Branch remained right in front of him the entire time. When Gristle finally ran out of tears to cry, he flopped back down onto the bed, and two paws pressed against his cheek.
The silence stretched.
Slowly, Gristle breathed. In, and out. His chest was still strung taut and raw, his face was cold and sticky, and his throat stung from the effort of crying so much. He had never felt so low. He knew the grief was far from over.
As Gristle breathed, Branch clambered up onto his chest. He kneeled down, and held out a paw.
“Unhappy together.” Branch offered. “Shit sucks, but it sucks less when we work together.”
Gristle inhaled, his breath choppy and uneven. “Unhappy together.” He agreed, offering his finger for Branch to shake. He sobbed again, and Branch wrapped his arms around as much of Gristle’s hand as he could manage.
Gristle Junior was fifteen years old when his father died. And it sucked, and hurt, and Gristle wasn’t sure he’d ever really stop grieving.
But, at the very least, he wasn’t alone. It wasn’t much, but that simple fact helped.
+=+=+=+=+
Gristle Junior was twenty years old when Chef returned.
The day started as any other, really. Wake up, get cleaned and dressed, find his brother already awake and poring over details from the latest construction updates in the new quarter. Have breakfast, Branch darting about to steal off of his plate as he stole from Branch’s, like proper brothers would do. Go through the castle halls greeting everyone, Branch walking along the various small walkways lining the walls and arching up across hallways like tiny bridges. Prepare for the biweekly levee in the throne room.
It was as the final petitioner was leaving that it happened. A Bergen that Gristle only vaguely recognized emerged from behind a potted plant, swishing her cloak ominously as she all but marched towards the throne.
And then Gristle recognized her. The chef’s hat, the lavender tint, the wicked gleam in her eyes. He glanced to the throne beside his, and anxiety germinated in his chest at the sight of Branch still as a statue, eyes wide and locked onto Chef.
“Were you behind that plant the whole time?” Gristle asked, for lack of anything else to say. He realized immediately how stupid that sounded—but Branch made no comment on it, which was so unlike him that Gristle’s uncertainty ratcheted up another notch.
Chef grinned as she reached for the zipper on her fannypack. Slowly, she opened it, and a sweet harmony emerged from within.
Gristle gasped, the rest of the world forgotten. If Branch had any reaction, Gristle didn’t notice it, too entranced with the sight before him.
For in Chef’s fannypack was a handful of Trolls, bright and colorful and singing.
This… this could change everything.
No—this would change everything. For all of Bergentown! Finally, Gristle Junior could live up to his title, could be the King that brought happiness back to his people!
If he had bothered to look back at the thrones, he would have seen Chef glaring daggers into his back.
More importantly, he would have seen the look of utter uncertainty on Branch’s face.
45 notes · View notes
tbaluver · 12 days ago
Note
Hello 👋 love your work so much ❤️. Anyway can I request a scenario where the MC and l&ds boy were adult film actors or porn-stars if you prefer, like what each boy is like on and off camera.
P☆RN STA-A-A-A-AR- The Love And DeepSpace Men
pairings in order: Xavier x fem!Reader, Zayne x x fem!Reader, Rafayel x fem!Reader, Sylus x fem!Reader, Caleb x fem!Reader context: what it's like filming with your lover and behind the cameras genre: MDNI, smut smut, flitthyy but with aftercare a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ thank you for supporting my works! srry i took a while writing this req i was going and forth with this during school as well so i hope i did this justice! if not ignore this for now ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) i also added what they're like when they're filming by themselves i hope thats okay! and i hope you enjoy reading! (∩˃o˂∩)♡
any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier:
tags: male masturbation, backshots, p in v
Solo Video:
Xavier is a well known porn star who prefers to keep his face and identity hidden to keep a low profile in public. With one hand subtly lifting the camera to focus on the bare lower half of his body, just enough to see the full view of his thighs twitch and tremble while the other hand strokes his length slowly, occasionally moving further down to cup his balls.
His viewers tuning in to his new video often see him lying comfortably on his bed, his sculpted body glowing under the light of his camera. His pretty pink tip glistened, making his viewers wonder how long he was going for when he made the video. Envy sparks among them as they wish they could be his bunny plushies resting beside him, wishing they could trade places. He knew what he was doing placing them there.
Soft whimpers escape his mouth as he pumps faster and faster, his chest rising and falling. You can tell he was so close from how his breathing stutters through the camera. Oh how badly the viewers wished they would get a glimpse of his flushed face. They would pay so much more if he’d let them.
Breathless, quiet pants of your name slip from his lips as he struggles to keep his voice down. He could feel his climax coming near, his orgasms building deep inside him and finally releasing his warm cum in thick spurts all over his defined abs.
The video cuts off there making viewers want more. The rest of his channel is filled with teasing mirror pics showcasing his defined physique while wearing his signature grey sweats. His fat cock makes an outline through the thin material while his large hands wrapped around his phone to carefully cover his face.
And his most popular videos? They’re the ones featuring you, his personal favorites.
On Camera With You:
The top of your dress was unbuttoned and tugged down to expose your breast. Your breast pressed against the window, exposed to, well, the backyard of your shared home with Xavier. He would never risk letting anyone catch even a glimpse of your bare body, hence why a lot of the videos that include you are covered or blurred out. The bottom of your dress was slightly pushed up, just enough to have Xavier sink his fat cock inside but also to slightly cover the curve of your ass.
He buries his head into your neck, your moans fogging up the window. “Mine..” He whispers in your ear, the sound of his hips slamming in and out of you relentlessly against you drowned it out. He drills into you harder, deeper, his mind focused on how wet your cunt feels around his dick.
His cock was hitting you so deeply that you felt like he was splitting you in two. “X-Xavier..!” You moan out, his hands travelling between your thighs to rub the bundle of nerves between your legs to give you that sudden stimulation. His hands caress the soft skin of your ass while he peppers sweet kisses down your neck as you both chase your high.
His hands make their way to pinch your perked nipples roughly as you press harder against the window which would leave a foggy mark later. You're almost there, from the way you’re clenching around him and the way he feels your thighs shake around his hand. All the pure sensation he was giving you was turning your brain into mush, your moans turning into incoherent babbles.
He angles his hips so you can feel his veiny fat cock hit right against the spongy sweet spot inside of you while continuing his animalistic pace. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach tighten again, waves of pleasure rushing through your body as you cum on his cock. With one final hard thrust, his cum seeps into you, filling you up to the brim. He rides out his orgasm, his hips stuttering.
He keeps his head nestled against your neck as you both catch your breath, his hands still resting on your hips. “You think you could do that again for me honey?” His warm breath brushes over your skin. You realized it a little too late but you’ve forgotten saying his name on camera would reveal his identity to the public.
“Mhm..” You hum weakly, your chest rising and falling as you tilt your head just enough to catch a glimpse of Xavier. Honestly, he could’ve easily edited that part out, but he’d rather film with you over and over again. For now this little video will be for you and him to keep.
Behind The Scenes With You:
“Did you feel good? Do you want more?” He asks, making sure you were one hundred percent satisfied and content. He isn’t asking for the video but rather if you still want to go on just for your pleasure. He doesn’t mind at all, he’s more than happy to keep going for as long as you want him too.
And once you were completely satisfied with your needs, he’d carry you to the bathroom, peppering you with so many sweet kisses. He sits you down on the bathroom counter as you both wait for the bathtub to fill and get to the perfect temperature. He dampens a rug to help clean you up, while admiring every inch of your body while pressing soft reassuring kisses to any surface he can reach. 
“Does this feel sore?” He asks softly, massaging your thigh after witnessing you tremble from today’s filming. And if it did, he’s quick to massage any sore spots while making sure there were any markings on your skin that needs tending too.
When the bathtub is finally filled to the perfect temperature, he carefully lifts you, stepping into the warm water together. He gently helps you wash and dry off. Afterwards, he slips you into one of his shirts that were way too oversized on you but perfectly comfortable.
He helps you settle onto the bed, adjusting your pillows just right before sinking into the bed right beside you. Thankfully, today’s video didn’t require the bed or you’d both be stuck on the couch waiting for fresh new sheets. He seriously thinks you should get more from how often you two make videos, but you both often forget.
With a soft chuckle at the thought, he grabs the blanket, tucking it around you both. His arms slip around you, pulling you closer as you two drift off into a peaceful sleep.
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Zayne:
tags: male masturbation, p in v, reader riding zayne
Solo Video:
Most of Zayne’s solo videos feature him sitting in his office chair alone in his dimly lit room. His camera is usually propped up and behind it would be his computer playing a video you filmed touching yourself a while ago. When he’s by himself, he doesn’t remove every piece of clothing but when it's with you, it’s different. He often leaves his button up shirt unbuttoned, just enough to to reveal his defined muscles. His sleeves rolled up to show the scars on his arms, making viewers wonder if they were from you.
Even as a porn star, Zayne remains reserved, often cropping his face out just slightly in his videos, giving viewers a glimpse of his jawline to imagine his lips parting and his eyes shut from the absolute pleasure he was giving himself.
But to him, it would’ve been better if you were here.
Soft quiet groans slip past Zayne’s lips through the camera as his hand drags along his shaft faster now. He squeezes his fist even tighter, pumping faster into his sensitive hot pink tip as his cum spills out with uneven pants. His chest rising and falling, sweat coating his skin that made him glisten. The video ends like that with no outro, leaving viewers to look at the blank screen as they try to finish imagining sinking into his throbbing cock.
They can imagine all they want but the only way to know for sure is by clicking on the next few videos of you two together.
On Camera With You:
“You can do it, I know you can. I’m here.” He murmurs, his lips barely brushing by your ear. Both of his large hands rest on your waist, gently making soothing circles on your soft skin as you slowly sink into him inch by inch.
He was always so gentle and patient with his touches just as he is behind the cameras. Unlike the men you would see in stereotypical videos who rush into things quickly and end up finishing first.
A strangled whine travels up your throat once you finally let yourself down fully onto his cock. There's no doubt that he’s big. He’s so big that it makes you whimper every time he’s in you, splitting you open each time, making viewers completely jealous.
You both agreed it’s best to keep your faces hidden, unless of course you choose otherwise. Oftentimes, after filming you both make sure to blur your faces or crop them out the video. It’s truly a shame they’ll never have the view you have. His cheeks and ears are completely flushed, his lips swollen from all the kisses and biting, and that small pussy drunk smile he still has on whenever he watches you ride him.
“Are you okay?” He whispers, his large hands smoothing over your back. You nod against his shoulder, resting your forehead there for a moment. “Take your time,” He murmurs quietly, pressing a soft kiss at the top of your head. You always manage, every single time. However if you did want to stop, he would with no hesitation. Your hips shift in little experimental ruts, grinding slowly.
Once you angle your hips just right, you pull your face away from his shoulder, sitting up slightly. You whimper loudly, bouncing up and down on him faster. He knows you want to moan out his name but for the sake of the video and his identity you can’t. But he doesn’t mind starting all over again if it means he’ll see you like this again.
He never gets tired of the sight he had in front of him. If this was an addiction then don’t bother him finding a cure. Your body was glistening with sweat as you moved up and down on his length. And the way your face contorts from the pleasure you were getting was beautiful to him.
His hips stutter up involuntarily, instinctively, begging you to give him more. An intense amount of pleasure begins to flood you from the slick drag of his cock inside you, opening you completely and letting him get deeper inside of you. Your panting and whining drown out from the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin in the room.
Your movements started to get sloppy as you desperately chased your high and with one final drop you completely buried yourself in him, your orgasm washing through you. Zayne’s hands tighten on your hips as he follows suit, cumming with a low groan. You could feel his cock pulse, stuffing your cunt full.
You melt on top of him, your chest rising and falling in sync with his as he rubs soothing circles on your back. You tilt your head slightly as he pulls you closer, his lips reaching for yours. “Thank you,” He murmurs against your lips. His body relaxes against yours as he rests his chin gently on top of your head.
Behind The Scenes With You:
The steady rhythm of Zayne’s slow breathing pulls you back to reality but his gentle caress trailing up and down your back almost lulls you to sleep on top of him. “I’m going to grab a few things to clean us up, love. I promise I’ll be quick okay?” He whispers softly. You nod slowly against his chest, too relaxed to say anything more. Gently, he lays you down beside him, propping the pillows behind you to make you more comfortable.
You watch his broad figure walk towards the door, a small smile tugging at your lips as you catch a glimpse of the marks you made from your film today. You let your eyes flutter closed for a couple minutes. However, it doesn’t last long when you hear the soft padding of his feet return and feel the subtle shift in the bed.
He comes back with a glass of cold water and a damp rag. “Come closer, you should drink,” He murmurs, slipping an arm under your back, lifting you slightly to help you sit up. You lean into him, sipping the cold water as he carefully brings the glass to your mouth. “Done?” He asks as he watches you pull away from the glass, your body sinking back into the softness of the bed. “Spread your legs a little, my love. I need to clean you up.” He sets the glass down beside the bed, brushing the damp rag over your inner thigh.
“Not too sore anywhere? How about here?” He asks, carefully massaging any tender spots, making sure he didn’t overdo it during filming. He watches your reactions closely, relief washing over him when you shake your head, offering a small smile.
“‘m okay Zayne, I promise.” His eyes soften, a tender smile curving on his lips too as he rubs your inner thigh in slow reassuring circles.
“Let’s take a quick bath, and then we can rest, okay?” He says softly. You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck as he effortlessly lifts you, cradling you against him as he carries you to the bathroom.
The water was already running. He’s prepared everything so quickly, just like he promised. As he helps you settle in the bathtub with him, you catch a glimpse of a neatly folded set of clothes on the counter after your bath.
Once you both finish washing off, he gently helps you dry off before turning his attention to himself. He grabs your favorite oversized shirts on the counter, the ones that always smell like him, pulling it over you.
After you’re both settled in comfortable clothes, he lifts you effortlessly, earning a small giggle from you. The walk back to the bedroom was short, just a few steps really, but he can’t help but love taking care of you.
He carefully sets you down on your side of the bed before climbing in beside you. He tucks the blankets around both of you, his arms pulling you closer. You rest your head against his chest, pressing a soft kiss at the top of your head before nuzzling closer to you.
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Rafayel:
tags: male masturbation, backshots, p in v
Solo Video:
Rafayel is absolutely shameless whether he films with you or by himself.
He smirks when he sees more viewers coming in to join his stream. Sweat drips down his chest as his biceps flex as he bumps faster. “hah-i bet you like this don'tcha? filthy girl.”  Viewers flooded into his stream with compliments while some typed how they wished it was them instead of his hands. “Yeah? Am I making you feel good? You wish you were on this cock huh?” They typed promises in the chat how they would make him feel so good but Rafayel doubts that. He doesn’t need to even think about if they’d make him feel good because with you, he already has everything he needs.
He knows you’re watching so he must perform a good show for you while you’re away.
His head falls back slightly while his eyes remain half-lidded to watch the numbers go up. He lowers his gaze, watching his hand stroke up and down his cock, concentrating on his sensitive tip. His sweet moans echo through the livestream when he cums hard again. A few whines slip out of his slips as he watches his hot cum overflowing to his balls and onto his hand.
He pants, a smirk playing at his lips as he glances back at the stream. He reads the chat, viewers begging for one more round while he cleans himself up.
“Thanks for the tips everyone. Catch me and my cutie new video next week.”
And just like that, the livestream ends.
On Camera With You:
“fuuuuck you feel s-so ah! good cutie,” Rafayel lets out a loud pornagraphic moan, his grip on the camera unsteady as he struggles to focus his view but also to get the perfect shot of your ass bouncing off his dick. 
Ah, this position is one of his many favorites. He has your ass up in the air while one of his hands grip your hips tightly that will probably leave a bruising mark on it the morning after. Your back curves with your face against the plush of the pillows, it was a breathtaking sight and no one can ever take it from him. The viewers can look and touch themselves all they want but they can never have you.
Rafayel looks down to where you’re both connected, stretching you wider than ever before. The sight is mesmerizing and he can’t stop his moans from slipping out. 
His hips slap against yours while his hands roam around the soft surface of your back and your ass, occasionally giving it a tight squeeze. “mmmngh Raf-!” Your moans muffle through the pillow as pulsating pleasures send signals down to your core.
“Did you hah- like that pretty girl? Do mm- you want more? I’ll give you more,” The loud smack of his pelvis hitting your ass fills the room and each stroke he was pulling you down deeper onto his cock. He can’t take off his eyes on your pretty pussy and how it just swallows him up so perfectly. 
“feels ‘s good ‘s good-!” you slur your words which means he knows he’s doing it right. your muffled whines and moans and the wet sounds of your cunt were spurring him on. His heavy balls stains with your arousal as they slap against your puffy clit. Hearing you feel this good because of him, the way your pussy feels wrapped around his dick, it was too perfect.
One of his free hands trails down to rub your sensitive clit while he pounds into you harder. He lets out a small whimper when he feels your cunt start to tighten around him and the way you’re quivering means you’re close. “Look so pretty takin it, take it all for me yeah?”
The orgasm rips through you, soaking his cock. His hips stutter momentarily, thick white ropes of his cum paint your walls. He nearly sinks on top of you but instead he rolls onto his back, pulling you right beside him to see your pretty face.
He smiles warmly at you, brushing the hair away from your face as he turns off the camera, not caring whether he captured anything good at all. All he knows right now is that you’re perfect. Everything you do is perfect.
Behind The Scenes With You:
You two lie side by side, his nebula eyes staring right at yours, a soft smile never leaving his lips. His hands moved gently over your back as your limbs were tangled together. “How do you feel?” He whispers, his gaze never leaving yours.
“Good,” you reply, smiling back at him.
“Likeee realllyy good or just good?” He teases, both of you laughing. He grins, brushing his hand over your cheek. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” You nod as you watch him rise, his touch still lingering on your skin before he leaves.
You watch him leave, a small smirk curling on your lips as you watch his bare ass walk on full display before he disappears completely.
When he returns, he extends his hand to you, helping you drape yourself around him as he lifts you effortlessly into his arms. The bathroom smells like your favorite soap while bubbles are gently rising to the surface of the water. He carefully guides your tired body into the tub,  letting you sink into relaxation. “I’ll be right backkk cutie, just stay right there!” He boops your nose with the soapy bubbles, flashing you a wink before quickling walking away.
It takes him a few moments to return and when he does, he joins in right behind you. You relax, leaning your back against his chest. His hands help gently wash your sticky body with soap and water before washing his own. “Is this good?” He whispers, his warm breath fanning over your ear, earning a hum of approval from you.
After helping you finish drying off and getting dressed, he lifts you gently, carrying you back to the room where the sheets and blankets have been replaced by him, so you can rest in a freshly made bed.
He sinks into the bed with you, not letting you have a single moment to pass without wrapping his arms around you, earning a soft giggle from you from his clinginess. He tucks the covers around you both, his forehead gently resting against yours as you both begin to drift into a sleep. The perfect footage for the channel slips from his mind, he’ll worry about that tomorrow.
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Sylus:
tags: male masturbation, size difference, p in v
Solo Video:
Sylus is often mischaracterized even in the industry. He doesn’t talk much in his own videos, leaving a lot of people to fantasize what he’s like in bed. Is he rough? Does he mind vanilla? What would he say to you? 
Well that’s only for you to know and hear.
His solo videos are often him sitting up in his dimly lit room, his legs spread enough to give the viewers a glimpse of his bulging veins on his inner thigh. He keeps eye contact on the camera while his large hand drags along his length. He found this, well, boring, without you. All he could think about was the money he’d make from this and the pretty outfits you’d been eyeing at the mall that he’d surprise you with. It’s a shame really, knowing that it would be easily ripped apart by him.
He imagines pleasing you, his tongue tasting your folds while you whine and babble about the clothes he got you, completely shredded. Those pretty little sounds were cute to him.
He imagines rolling his hips against you while your nails claw at his back as you hold on tightly to him. Sylus curses under his breath as he increases his pace on his hand. His eyes fluttering shut, his jaw clenching. His fist pumps into his sensitive tip, helping him closer to his orgasm. A deep groan falls from his lips, his hot cum overflowing in his hands.
The video ends there, offering viewers recommendations of his popular videos. The ones featuring you and him everywhere. And he wouldn’t want it any other way, showing off his beloved and how good you make him feel.
On Camera With You:
“S-Sylus..” you whimper, nails digging into his skin when he pulls out and slides back in slowly. Your head spins at how full you already feel, unconsciously tightening around him. He’s just so much bigger, bigger than what the viewers see on the screen. A groan rumbles in his broad muscular chest as his grip on your hips tightens. 
Inch by inch, he stretches you wider, stuffing you full of his cock. “Are you alright?” He whispers softly, not an ounce of teasing dripping in his tone as he checks to make sure if you’re okay. It was quiet enough that the camera can’t pick it up, intended only for you to hear.
You hum in approval, “K-keep going, please Sy more” your hips wiggling to signal him to keep going. He begins thrusting in and out of you, each stroke deep, brushing against your walls that felt so so good. Your viewers loved this. They loved watching his monster sized cock disappear into your pretty cunt. His size difference compared to your small frame turned people on while maintaining to be gentle and careful, quite different from the usual videos you would see in the industry.
“You’re doing so well, sound so pretty” he praises while he shallowly thrusts in you, the sounds in the room were so lewd from the squelching of your wetness. Each drag of his cock makes you feel every ridge and vein as he pulls in and out, earning soft mewls from you. “I’m gonna go faster now okay baby?” he murmurs waiting for your response.
With a breathless yes please sy, is all he needed to hear before he slams his entire length back in with a single thrust making you cry and babble incoherent words as he pistons in and out of you. Not even the tight grip you held onto him made you feel secure. He’s hitting depths that were only possible for him to find, each thrust sending shockwaves through your entire body making you chant his name brokenly. 
“Just like that,” he coos, pressing wet sloppy kisses down your neck. It’s too much. It’s too good. Your loud choked sobs captured by the camera as his tip mercilessly drills into that sweet spongy spot over and over again. “That’s it..C’mon sweetie give it to me”
Your walls clench around his length, waves of pleasure continue to wash over you as Sylus fucks you through your high. With a few final thrusts, he sinks his cock as deep as he can, his hips stutter momentarily, trying to milk every bit of his seed into you.
His body melting against you, both of you sticky and exhausted. Both of you breath heavily, the room filled with the sound of your uneven breaths. Once the high clears from his mind, he lifts his head, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before softly pulling out. He doesn’t ignore your whine from the emptiness, gently soothing you with sweet praises and showering your face with tender kisses.
With one last kiss, he whispers, ‘I’ll be right back’ before turning off the camera to save you both some time to edit. Whether or not that final, intimate moment stays on film is your choice but the care he shows you behind the scenes remains unseen, something just for the two of you.
Behind The Scenes With You:
“I’ll be right back okay sweetie? Do you need anything?” He sits beside you on the bed, his large hand gently squeezing your thigh. You shake your head, offering a small and weak smile before he stands up and disappears from your sight.
A few minutes pass and he returns a few things in hand. He helps you sit up slowly as you take a few needed gulps while he gently cleans you up with the damp rag, massaging any area with some oils that he thinks is sore from the past scenes you’ve recorded for today.
You lay back down, letting out a deep exhale as exhaustion floods your body. Your eyes were growing heavy, nearly fluttering shut but Sylus stops you. “No yet sweetie,” he says softly. “I’ve got a bath running, and then you can rest okay?” He hovers above you, showering you with kisses just enough to keep you awake. With a weak ‘okay’, you give in. He carefully slides his arms around you, lifting you up and carrying you effortlessly to the bathroom. He checks the water temperature, adjusting it to your preference and once he’s satisfied, he carefully lowers you both into the warm, soothing water.
After the bath, he lifts you gently, carrying you to the counter by the sink to keep you from standing. He carefully dries your hair before grabbing one of his oversized shirts, the one you love so much, slipping it over your head. Once you're settled, he takes a quick moment to dry off, grabbing his robe before turning his attention back to you. He carries you to one of his many rooms, as the one you two filmed today needs to be cleaned.
“Would you like anything else?” He asks softly, helping you lay down on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. You shake your head, pulling at the fabric of his robe to come join you. A low chuckle escapes him as he joins you, sitting up beside you and letting you snuggle closer to him. You rest your hands against his chest, feeling the rise and fall as he tucks you in. Editing the video can wait, right now it’s just the two of you.
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Caleb:
a/n: his is shorter bc im still trying to figure out his personality but i wanted to include him ! tags: reader jorking caleb off
On Camera With You:
The camera was propped up by your kitchen table, near the windows so the natural lighting can capture his defined abs. You stood behind his seat, your fingers teasing his abs, tracing the lines as you go lower and lower. This was how many retakes by now? You stopped counting after the fifth one, losing track of how much he came too fast. The clips were too short but they were handy if you wanted to keep them to yourself, which you will.
“p-please, i need you,” Caleb whines once your finger lines over his waistband. His cock happily awaiting your touch beneath his boxers, again. “make me feel good, only you can. i’ll do good this time, p-promise.”” he’s already a whimpering mess and you haven’t even started yet. 
He helps you tug down his sweats along with his boxers, his heavy cock springing upwards to slap his torso from its release. His cock was so hard he thinks he might explode and you can tell his frustration from the tip of his cock, all hot pink and swollen just for you.He was already leaking again and you hardly touched him there.
You carefully wrap your hand around his shaft, stroking his cock up and down. His head falls back, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips rock slightly up into your hand, meeting your strokes. He’s trying so hard not to finish early again but how can he not when just your hand already feels so good. 
You pump him faster, leaning over with your other hand to squeeze his balls, your nails softly grazing onto the sensitive flesh. He lets out a loud whine when you twist your wrist around his glistening tip. “‘m gonna cum, fuck ii’m so ah! s-sorry!”  He whimpers loudly, spilling all over your hand with a pathetic whine. “I’m sorry..one more time..” He looks up at you with pleading eyes and who are you to say no? At least this time it was at least ten seconds longer than the last one
Behind The Scenes With You:
No matter who was more exhausted after filming, he always insisted on cooking you a delicious meal, despite any protests you might have. Sure he could easily order take out and have it delivered but he personally found it better to have a home cooked meal for a girl he absolutely loves who treats him so well.
But first, he’d make sure you were both freshened up, helping you slip into his favorite shirt, one that was oversized on you. Dressed in nothing but his grey sweats, he’d start up the stove, chopping vegetables to make the flavor pop. If you didn’t listen and rest in bed as he asked, he’d scoop you up effortlessly, ignoring your complaints as he carried you back to your shared room.
When the meal was ready, he’d bring over a tray with your favorite dishes, setting it right in your lap before settling right beside you.
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expelliarmus444 · 16 days ago
Text
If texting were a thing in the 1890s: pt 3
Sebastian: OMINIS COME INTO THE BATHROOM RN Ominis: uhm...why Sebastian: there's a centipede cornering me HELP Ominis: you fight giant spiders, goblins, trolls, and inferi and you're telling me you draw the line at...centipedes? Sebastian: could you just shut up and come kill it Ominis: ugh fine
Ominis: Sebastian texted earlier asking me to kill a bug for him in the bathroom. I get there and I hear him literally crying in the corner like a baby. thought i should share that with you MC: ew omg i would've screamed Ominis: ???????? you guys have literally KILLED people MC: no their blood is on ranrok's hands not mine Ominis: bruh
Duncan: hey MC ;) was wondering if you'd wanna..idk go out some time MC: uhm no thank you Duncan: this is what i get for being nice to a mudblood MC: EXCUSE ME? MC: bro duncan hobhouse called me a slur bc i don't wanna go out with him wtf Ominis: interesting. Ominis: hobhouse. Duncan: who is this Ominis: if i hear you ever mutter a word towards MC again i will freeze you, slice you into pieces, and feed you to a pack of starving mongrels. actually if you even breathe in her direction i will throw you into the lake with a bunch of dugbogs and let them rip you to shreds. am i clear? Duncan: omg ??? Ominis: better be clear. don't tell anyone about this. anyway fuck off i'm blocking you now. MC: did you threaten duncan????? Sebastian: no but i'm jealous of whoever did MC: wtf???? who could it have been then MC: wait
MC: Ominis wtf Ominis: what MC: threatening duncan is soooo not like you Ominis: wdym i hate him Ominis: i'd do it again. i'd pay to do it. i'd spend the rest of my life doing hard physical labor on a goat farm until my body is about to give out if it means getting to shit on him one last time MC: and here i thought you were doing something nice for me Ominis: that too ig
Sebastian: OMINIS HELP IN THE UNDERCROFT MC: OMINIS ITS SERIOUS HELP PLS OMG Ominis: what happened????? Sebastian: centipede in the undercroft Ominis: are you fucking joking this is ridiculous Sebastian: PLEASE Ominis: no Sebastian: why not Ominis: quit being a baby and just kill it bro Ominis: acting like ur not grown with a sweater of chest hair on you is crazy MC: this is me finding out Sebastian grows chest hair MC: O _ O ew Sebastian: now you really have to kill it since you wanna air me out like that Ominis: no. MC: you won't do it for me? Ominis: nvm im coming Sebastian: WTF???????? Ominis: be there in 5
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mustangbby · 1 year ago
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Can i have eula,kujou sara and navia reacting to their s/o who endured a lot and manages to rise from the ashes time and time again?
-> destruction, a vicious cycle
synopsis -> no matter what, you can never catch a break. being brought down, rebuilding yourself, and being brought down all over again is your cycle of life.
a/n -> my first official request yayyy!! ah i was so happy when i saw this in my inbox because i'm only creative when it comes to drawing i seriously cannot think of anymore prompts..... anyways everybody feel free to send some in fhajdkdkks they'll likely get done by same/next day!! sorry if this was misinterpreted i cannot focus on anything rn and it's been like this for the past few days
warnings -> mentions of injury, reader showing evident signs of wanting to give up, crying, mostly angst
w/c -> 1.3k
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eula 
she gets that feeling. more or less better than anyone else you know would. considering her horrific past, she would wake up and go into the day blindly, not knowing what there is to come for the next string of long hours. she’s been rejected by monstadts people, by her own family. 
so when you express your feelings to her, she gets it. but she’ll still do her best to comfort you anyways. 
so, she started paying more attention to the things you do and the interactions you have with people.
the first time she witnessed something was when you had tried oh so hard to gain the trust of the acting grand master, jean, just for it to all crumble down due to a silly rumor that an immature guard decided to spread around the favonius headquarters. it had caused a lot of backlash on your part from the cities residents and from all of the knights and the vision holders that are affiliated with them. 
and then, once you regained her trust and worked day and night to get the residents on a good t with you, your family decided to shame you for no reason whatsoever, and bringing another issue you worked to fix for yourself into your life.
it felt rather draining, being unable to catch a break. one thing after another, one day at a time. life felt like a cycle to you at this point. 
whether you had a brutal injury in combat and had to work endlessly (or at least to what felt like it) to prove your strength to yourself and the world once more or simply had to regain trust, you were genuinely tired. 
so, eula tries to take the burden. at first, she tries to take in entirely, but you both knew that wouldn’t be possible. she wasn’t the one injured, or the one who was mere seconds from being roughly escorted out of the city. she couldn’t necessarily shoulder that without being the one in the position. 
but what she could do was allow you to cry and express your emotions to her when you’re in the safety of your own home. you both knew that she wouldn’t turn on you for your life cycle. she was the only person you felt you could genuinely trust at the time and you felt really grateful to have someone as wonderful as her. 
she’s been making it much easier for you to live now, and she’ll proceed to do so throughout the rest of the time the world gives you two. 
kujou sara
you understood she didn’t have much time to listen and understand what your life is like, and all of the traumatic and upsetting stories that go with your name. she’s constantly out, fulfilling her loyalty to the esteemed shogun and leading over the tenryou commission, and she doesn’t come back until late most nights, if she even does come back. you completely understand what she does and why it’s so important, and she always tries so hard to make you feel loved and that she has time for you. 
but you haven’t had that chat about yourself with her yet. and you don’t know when you will.
she first picks up on something being not right when you came home, trying so so hard to fight back tears and nearly failing. you excused yourself to the shower, allowing the tears to spill due to the water muting your cries. 
but she knew. she knew something was up, and she wanted to ask you about it, but at this very moment was one of the first times she thought she couldn’t make up the words to confront you. so when she does, it sounds more like a demand then a question. you both knew that it wasn’t supposed to sound that way.
once you told her, she nodded, getting up and making you some tea to try and soothe you. she didn’t try to pressure you into relaxation, or to tell you to be calm. because telling you that would be unfair. she’s not that way, so why should she force you to be? 
like eula, she’ll keep a close eye on you sometimes. the first time she witnessed what she had at first thought was your downfall, she tried to keep herself composed as you struggled to get the blade out of your stomach. 
it was one hell of a journey to get you back on your feet. not only was this weighing down on you, the thought of disappointing sara or being a burden to her (considering her 5 hour stays at the hospital nearly every single day) haunted you. corrupted your sleep, and corrupted your mind whenever she was helping you through your physical therapy work. 
once you were back on your feet, it seemed like another thing after another happened. you were asked so much out of the citizens of inazuma city, and even yelled at, until you snapped at one of them and it was the headline in the papers. even guuji yae looked into it. then again, you worked to build yourself up again.
no matter how vicious the cycle, you knew you always had sara there to support you. 
navia 
she wasn’t stupid, she knew something was upsetting you, but didn’t want to ask. since the loss of her father she’s learned certain ways to cope, and she just thought you were using your ways to cope, too. 
but she realized it was much more than that.
you two had heard rumors of someone going around and pickpocketing people, taking mora. so, considering she wanted to try and solve such a mystery, she asked you if you’d like to accompany her, and you agreed. 
the person who did it was a fontaine citizen who had been doing this for years to survive. the woman lived on the streets, occasionally stealing food from food stands when they came out, or threatening cafe owners into giving her what she wanted. 
considering the fact that she could be considered mental, she framed you. and you were the one who had to face the repercussions. 
thats when navia really started to realize that this wasn’t the first time something this horrible has happened to you, considering your reaction to the whole situation and how you brushed it off whenever she’d bring it up. you had a 4 month sentence in the fortress, and though it used to be something like 4 years, navia made a deal with wriothesley into shortening it due to false accusation. 
but once you got out of the prison, it seemed you couldn’t catch a break from tragedies. from things you didn’t even know you were doing to things people made up lies about, you felt that you constantly had to prove yourself to the people of the city, to prove that you weren’t a horrible person whose only interest is stealing peoples things and hurting others. 
navia would let you talk for as long as you possibly needed, listening extra hard when you mention some more disturbing topics that you barely got back up from, but managed to anyways. she understood the comparison when you mentioned how it feels like a never ending cycle of devastating events, and how you were tired of always being forced to be the bad guy in situations you didn’t even know were happening half of the time. 
she’ll settle your cries with a nice warm hug (if it gets to the point of crying) and makes sure she can help you in any way you need when another one of these incidents happen. she knows she’ll never be able to make it all go away, but she tries to at least make it less of a weight to carry around when you two are together.
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jealousmartini · 6 months ago
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Hii, one day I came across ur acc, and I loved it! Even the aura I scripted for my kpop drs, is the same as yours but with some different things lol Today while still deciding some things to add to my aura, I realize that I REALLY wanna create some drama. Like me and an idol having beef, or me defending myself bc a female iodl wants to beat me up idk but I feel like i'm the only one lmao. I see everyone wanna be friends with their idols and their s/o but I wanna be an idol specially to know all the drama going behind the cameras, the HOT tea. Like did 2 male idols ever beat the sh#t out of each other back of the MAMA building during awards shows? Or how do idols ever go to parties with out being caught? And if so, do idols who are minors go to parties?? Bc I'm a minor rn, and I'm going to shift with my age, and I LOVE parties 🤩 but I'm not gonna script things like "all idols can go out freely" bc I wanna see the raw thing, how idols actually live.
Actually I just came here to ask u if u have any drama with another idols in ur dr, or if u plan to script anyone. And if so who and why? 🧐 But I ended speaking too much lmao. Anyways, love ur account 🫶🏾🫶🏾
OH MY GOSH ITS YOU! I REMEMBER WHEN I FIRST SAW YOU LIKE ONE OF MY POSTS BUT YOUR PFP THREW ME OFF CUS I THOUGHT IT WAS ME LMAO😭😭😭
ANYWAY HEY SWEETHEART IM SO GLAD YOU LOVE MY BLOG❤️❤️ AND OHH MYY GODD I LOVE THIS ASK SO MUCH I HAVE SO MUCH I WANT TO SAY SO ILL BULLETPOINT THEM
«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»
DRAMA, CONTROVERSIES, AND SCANDALS.
DATING RUMOURS
First I'll start off by saying Taehyung and Jennie were 100% dating back in 2017-2019 and those pictures taken of them were definitely real.
And speaking of BTS members dating other idols, the biggest controversial dating rumour circulating BTS is if Jungkook and Chae Kyung are secretly dating because of the amount of references we've have made about each other and the candid pictures taken of us hanging out
Other than him, I do have like 5-6 dating rumours with other idols too but "KyuKook" or "Rookie" is the most popular ship surrounding me in my reality.
Also I kind of have a thing for controversial ships can't lie. I am a freak for older men (AS LONG AS ITS ONLY THE MEN I LIKE LMAOO😭😭) so I do not care if fans ship me with yoongi or jin or whatever cus I may or may not have scripted it but that's none of your business.
BEEF RUMOURS
Now see me personally I don't have any real beef with any idols but more with anonymous haters. There are countless meme clips of me responding to haters cussing them out and fact checking them it's actually hilarious how I am 85% of the reason why O.M.G is called the messiest group.
Yeah no beef rumours for me
IDOLS GO PARTYING
No one actually understands how much I love this topic because in this reality, I am not big on parties but I wish I liked them so ive scripted in my kpop dr that I enjoy parties (I also scripted I'm a bit of a lightweight just to be dramatic) and I have always wondered how idols got away with sneaking out to parties some of the time unnoticed.
Of course not always because of those candid pictures of idols walking together and dancing in a club but the idea of it is so exciting to me plus I don't really gaf if a fan sees me and I get hate for it lmao. I'm out here dancing and being shipped with YOUR "oppa", and YOU'RE🫵🏾 not!
If anything, I am looking forward to those candid pictures cus I love the attention so nah I'm not scripting "idols can go partying freely" I LIVE FOR THE DRAMA. GIVE ME THAT ADRENALINE RUSH🗣🗣‼️
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for-ships-that-never-sail · 7 months ago
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LISTEN
I’m on the ✨ #LukolaEndgame ✨ hopes and dreams delulu (but hopefully not actually delulu) train 🚂 just as much as the next person here
BUT ALSO
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I wouldn’t be mad at this?? 👀
Like…. He’s a handsome man, and if Nic intends to respectfully climb him like a tree, I GET IT. 👀🤤
See below for more Lukola positive thoughts though…
👇🏼
SO Nic has already mentioned Eamon by name (as a friend) in at least 2 or 3 interviews during the recent press tour… She’s also said she very much believes in the friends to lovers trope that is just as applicable here…. Andddddddd I’ve seen Nic hug A on video in a very friendly way (not that she wouldn’t hug her or be nice to her even if she didddd want L rn) and I also just saw someone’s theory on the Lukola tag about Nic’s “shit or get off the pot” paddle hit side eye vibes potentially being about her just giving L friendly advise on his stuff with A, which I can technically see as plausible…
So yeah, I know those ideas are gonna pisssss people off, but I’m just saying…. It would be a gorgeous love story for Lukola to one day be endgame, BUT in the meantime, I can see their current situations being all of thisss^
NOW in terms of my personal hopes and dreams of Lukola actually being endgame… I see it the way I see #Beliza 😅
Is anyone here from THOSE days?? When we used to look at #Bellarke and say, “if Bellamy is not supposed to be in love with Clarke, someone needs to tell Bob to stop looking at Eliza like that” (because we thought it was justtttt an acting choice)???
And then BAMMM
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Out of absolutely fucking NOWHERE (I mean for some of us crazies that were following too closely it wasn’t 100% out of nowhere… but I knooooow that’s how the majority felt) they’re about to be filming the last season of the show and they’re just like yeah so GUESS WHAT GUYS I MARRIED MY BEST FRIEND and everyone is like ??? 🤯 I mean y’all were definitely close friends when you were shooting and doing promo every year for sure but like when the fuck did you become actual bestttt friends irl??? When the fuck did you start dating???? When did you even decide you’d get married?? Cause just a few months ago we were still seeing both of your other public shipssss!!! (Let’s also fully jump over THAT drama 👀) And then they were just like, so ummm we kissed after our first date and we just KNEW this was ITTTT so we got married 2 seconds later cause like why wouldn’t we?? We are best friends and soulmatesssss ✨🌈🦄 🥰🦞
Anyway
That’s how I imagine Lukola to one day become official 🤷🏻‍♀️ Like they’ll date other people openly, and then suddenly OUT OF THE BLUE they’re MARRIED and everyone’s fucking confused AND elated! Lol
I do wonder if already having been so intimate with each other as Polin (unlike Bellarke, which, let’s just not think about that anymore either 😫) would delay or speed up Lukola if this were the case.
Like either it’ll speed them up because they know they LIKED all of THAT 👀 so by the time Bridgerton is officially coming to a close they’ll feel comfortable enough to stop being so professional about their relationship and acknowledge the 🐘 in the room and get on itttttt and get married 4 dates in… ORRRRR it will slow them down because they would continue to think they LIKED IT only because they were experiencing emotional residue from being too in character as Polin. Meaning the show would have to end and they’d have to actually part ways for a while, and they’d have to miss each other a LOTTT, and realize it wasn’t just Polin that created all this 🌩️ energy 🌩️ between them, and then one of them would need to just jump in the deep end and be like, so uhmmmm I thought I was feeling the tingles cause I was just super into being Colin but maybeee that wasn’t ittt…. so do you, errr… wanna??? 👀
My concern with option 2 is that it has higher potential for “ships that pass in the night” vibes 😫
So
GOD I humbly pray that it’s actually the first version, and that they’re just sowing their wild oats until Bridgerton is nearly over, justttt because they don’t wanna accidentally fuck up any work dynamics, and that as soon as the official end is in sight, they will just get married two seconds into dating irl AMEN 🙏🏼
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unintentionalseductress · 7 months ago
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oh this is so fun. i’ll bite
obviously jjk is the current hyperfixation so we got so many lining up for the train: satoru, suguru, kento, CHOSO <— massive fucking emphasis on mother fucking choso, aaaaaaand toji.
i feel like choso will explore every last inch, take his time with exploring but the second something touches his cock, he’s busting. satoru and suguru are like tag teaming. high fiving, gonna try n both fit in one hole at once. kento would try to be polite. like my god, why would anyone?? but he lingers long enough until he can’t control himself. and toji just going for it. doesn’t even read a sign, sees this seat is open and takes it
levi from attack on titan. he’s like that’s fucking gross what the hell. but when he’s sure no one else is around he’s going roundssssssssssss. he’ll be at it for awhile. erwin can get it too.
resident evil i need leon kennedy, jill valentine, carlos oliveira, and ada wong. JILL MOST OF ALLLLL but everybody is welcome and would do wonders on me. absurd bioterrorism gonna go down with these bodily fluids
young coriolanus snow from the hunger games prequel………. he has a lot of demons upstairs and ill exorcise them with this puss—💥💥 he’ll be so mean with it
I NEED THE BILLY LOOMIS AND STU MACHER GHOSTFACE SPECIAL!! THE DOUBLE FEATURE WOMBO COMBO!!!!!!!! i don’t care if it gets bloody, they won’t ever forget my favorite scary movie 😤
shane from stardew valley. need that gross, traumatized old man to play into some very bad daddy issues. (i’d fuck any of the bachelors and bachelorettes tbh, but i need that dirty fuck most of all rn)
anyways. how you doing tonight? what’s your favorite color? we really breaking the ice huh😭😅
Hello! Sorry that I was late in getting to this. Such a yummy reply! I love seeing people just break out with all their F/O's. JJK Men, Levi, I had to google some of these people but I can see why you'd want to be their free use!
Not familiar with Shane but damn, I read his Wiki entry and he sounds like a stereotypical grumpy man who's yelling at kids to get off his lawn 😆😆😆
Thanks for playing!
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muuurder · 5 months ago
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I’m coming here after your gf’s propaganda, hi >:D
Could I ask about Modern AU (Gaalee)? *O*
(also while looking for your AO3 account in your carrd, I found out that the link is not working!! Just so you know è_é (there is just the “s” missing gbizeubguebgz))
Hehehehe You mayyy. Also thank you!! I'll be real honest I am pretty sure I have one fic on my AO3 Account.
Okay so this specific Au I have plans on writing a fic about but I do not have it written out just a loose plot with elements in my noggin.
But essentially it focuses on trans! Gaara raised in modern day with a conservative cop father.
After the death of his mother, things proved to get harder and his father began to dive deep into his work. Only time he's present is when he's home usually drinking. He's not exactly a good cop by any means. He has a temper and he has his stern beliefs and he quite literally hates his fucking kids, but he especially hates gaara who has always been tomboyish, always the reminder of his failures, and ever the stubborn mule even when he is trying to stay out of Rasa's way. Gaara was never one to listen, he always marched to the beat of his own drum anyways.
After a particularly nasty incident where Rasa went a little too far on the job, Rasa picked up the three kids moved them closer to the city (coughcough Konoha.) Gaara ended up getting involved with drugs, and between the dangerous mix of everything he becomes a spiralling mess as per usual, targeting anyone who breathes at him wrong or he percieves as a threat of sorts. On one ocassion, Our beloved Rock Lee (star track runner, i'm debating on making i'm former head of boy scouts or just a kid who goes to a dojo that Gai totally owns.) ends up getting involved for justice reasons (He's autistic your honor.) and it ends with Gaara beating him with a lead pipe. Obviously charges are pressed and Gaara is sent to a psychward and given community service instead of going to juvie (I do not know if this is even fucking possible tbh but I like it.) While Gaara is in the psychward ( I am so sure there is another reason why he got sent there but w/e I can't remember rn), His father dies in a shoot out with a notorious criminal in the area (wonder who that could be.) Leaving these kids slapped into foster care while things are figured out as Temari isn't old enough to care for her three brothers. Yashamaru works to get custody of these kids in time but in the meantime, it's rough and Gaara is picked up from the psychward not by family. He is picked up by a foster care agent (social worker???) and he is made to serve out his community service. There he meets Naruto, who is also doing customer service for vandalism and they do fight and Gaara forms a baby crush. There is alot that happens around here and then there is a time skip essentially where things change once Yashamaru gets custody of these kids and they find a new normal with a crusty white dog. Gaara gets a safe space to heal and explore who he is.
The plot really begins picking up down the line where essentially gaara post moving away from the city with yashamaru back in their home town, He decides to move back to pursue college. he wants to get into therapy to try to reach others like him and Naruto integrates him into his friend group (or tries rather Gaara is pretty stand offish even if kankuro and temari have done so easily) and Gaara keeps fucking running into Rock lee against his will. Lots of healing, lots of forced proximity for healing reasons. Slow burn. It's a very loose plot I'm still fleshing out. We may see nods to the Moss because I wish I was joking here, That fic altered my fucking brain chemistry. I am still figuring it out. I do know that the main relationships i plan on showing/mentioning are: Gaalee, kakagai ofc, shikatem, kankiba, the polycule themselves narusakusasu, nejiten, hinata is a lesbian idc, and so is ino also perhaps past sakuino I am really excited for this fic ngl but I want to like do everything justice so I don't want to publish till i finish rewatching naruto and refreshing everything so I can figure out what elements I want to bring in and the like. Ngl y'all can ask more about this fic I have thoughts of scenes that would be so cute. HEHEHEHEH THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!
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meowriddler · 1 year ago
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Heyyy!!! Started reading your Edward stuff a little while ago and omg I love your writing! Was wonder if I could possibly request something with our boy Klitzy with a plus size!reader? Maybe Klitz finally has the balls to confess to reader and reader like rly rly likes him back but they’re like “but why me?” cause they’ve never really had anyone like them before? maybe they’re worried Klitz is just prancing them or smth? I’m projecting majorly rn I’m so sorry 😭
A/n: My beautiful lovely anon I deeply apologize for how late this request is, thank u for being my first request I really do hope u enjoy this ( also ur not projecting or anything luv dw )
( big shoutout to my best friend sky for helping me with this 🫶🥺)
Warnings: a hint of angst, both reader and klitz are a bit insecure
From the start~
Tim Klitz x plus size reader
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Another year passes by and he still hasn’t uttered those three little words to you. You and Klitz have been friends ever since freshman year when you first came to the school, and being the new kid sucked with no one to talk to, you settled on just giving up. As all hope was lost, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. Looking back at the source, it was a cute but awkward-looking boy with this bowl haircut that his mom most likely did herself and those tiny little glasses that made him look more nerdy than ever. He flinches back as if you were the one who tapped him on the shoulder. He offers you a sheepish smile. His voice cracks a bit before speaking (that made you giggle). "Um, you must be the new student, well, obviously you are since the teacher literally just introduced you”. "Um, ok, that was a dumb question. "Anyways, I’m klitz,” he offered his hand for you to shake while smiling that damn smile, giving you butterflies.
That was how everything started. He introduced you to Matt and Eli (you had to admit you did not like Eli at the start with his crude comments on your body, which made Klitz want to throw hands with him).
But today was the day Klitz felt brave enough to confess to you (also from the constant harassment he gets from his friends to finally confess). He had everything planned out; he had texted you the night before to meet him in this beautiful park. Hopefully the green scenery would be romantic enough for you.
While Klitz was waiting for your arrival, he couldn't shake off that dreadful feeling of you not liking him back. In a way that he liked you, that is. He was ridden with overzealous anxieties about his confession, breaking your friendship apart. Too many what-if's and but's are running through his mind now, making him shake his head to get rid of the thoughts going through his head. As you showed up in the distance, his gaze averted to where you stood. There you were, in all of your glory, looking as breathtaking as ever. Kliz's vision started dissipating, but he drew in a slow, deep breath to keep his cool. 

In the distance, you saw Klitz standing beside a park bench, detailed with wood and well-constructed metal. You could feel yourself getting nervous as well as he was ever since you got that text message from Klitz. The night before was still plaguing your mind with overthinking, wondering what could have been so important that he would have wanted to meet you at this really nice park all alone. 

You walked towards him, your hands fidgeting slightly as your eyes scanned the park until they landed upon him. 
"Hey, Klitzy!" 
You cheerfully say this despite the nervous churn in your stomach. You might have been thinking that he had finally found out your feelings towards him, which is causing you a bit of panic, wondering what he might think of you. 

"O-Oh! Hey, y/n, you actually came." Klitz seemed a bit surprised. "H-How are you doing?" 
“ God, why can't I just talk right for once?" He thought to himself when he spoke nervously, facepalming internally.
You softly laughed at his nervousness, which was reassuring to know that he too was nervous.
"I'm doing great! "What about you?" You said it with a nervous but inviting smile on your face. Your cheeks made your eyes squint slightly whenever you smiled. 

"I'm good; thank you for asking." His smile was uncertain, but a genuine one at least. His fingers tapped the side of his leg nervously while he looked at you, occasionally looking away.
"It's no problem," You two stood there for a bit until you broke the silence in the park. "So why did you want to meet up?" You asked curiously, hoping that it was something silly like a school project. 

"Well, um, I-" Klitz's eyebrows tensed slightly, feeling nervous and unsure of his confession. He took in a deep breath, which made you seem a bit confused about what could have gotten him so jumbled up. His eyes were closed for a moment, opening as he exhaled. 
"I-I know it's a little sudden, but I've always had feelings for you." You could feel your heartbeat quicken just as much as he was starting to when he said these few words. 
"Ever since we became friends, well, actually ever since I first saw you," Klits let out a nervous laugh in between his speeches. "I've been afraid to say anything. I didn't want to ruin our friendship, but I don't want to be just friends. His face was a bit red as he stumbled over his words. A slight moment of silence was shared while you looked at him with curious, nervous, widened eyes as he confessed to you. "What I'm trying to say is that I like you, y/n."
You stared at him for a bit more as a smirk crept onto your face, starting out with a giggle then progressing into a humbling laugh.
"Wait, why are you laughing?" Klitz's face went from nervous to confused, feeling a bit defeated by your laughter at his confession. It took him a few days to even build up the courage to even invite you to the park in the first place. "What's so funny?" He was genuinely confused about why you would be laughing at him. 

As your laughter died down, you looked up at Klitz, who wasn't laughing with you; he was looking at you quite hurt and upset with your reaction. "You're joking, right?" You questioned me with a raised eyebrow. 

"I-" Klitz was looking at you with his mouth slightly open, letting his eyes flutter for a few blinks. "No, I was." He shook his head and sighed sharply before shaking his head. "You know what, never mind." Klitz turned on his heel to walk off before he could make a fool of himself any longer until you grabbed ahold of his wrist before he could storm off anywhere.
"N-No, Klitz Wait, I'm sorry." You holding onto his wrist sent a striking feeling through his spine, making his heart flutter ever more. He turned back to you slowly as the hope in his eyes returned when you stopped him from walking off. 

"I didn't know if you were joking or not; I never get asked out genuinely." You held onto his wrist a bit longer before he turned back to you, letting go of it when you came face to face with him again. "I wouldn't have thought that someone would really have eyes for me." You muttered under your breath, seeming a bit sorrowful but pleased to know that the person you liked had genuine interest in you. 

Klitz tilted his head slightly in a bit of confusion. He was still anxious, to say the least, but he was more interested in what you meant, showing a hint of concern for you as well. "What do you mean?" 

"Well, Im.. y'know." You looked down and shrugged, seeing your body discourage your thoughts on his confession. "Not fit for societal standards." 

It took him a moment to process what you meant until he had an 'aha' moment, noticing that you were commenting on your body. Klitz was a mess, to say the least. The effect you had on him should be a crime, the way his whole body broke into a cold sweat at the slight attention you so gracefully offered him. Klitz never viewed himself as a good-looking hell; he even considered himself ugly, but seeing you act this way baffles him. Who wouldn't want to be with you? You always found ways to light up a room with your presence alone, always finding ways to make him feel better about himself. It upsets him greatly to know you don't view yourself the way he sees you because you're anything but special. He could still recall the day he first laid eyes on you, as if Cupid flew in and shot an arrow through his beating heart. 

"Y/N, you are beautiful; you don't have to worry about so-called'societal standards." His eyebrows tensed, looking concerned about your self-image. "Don't take me as someone who would think that about you." Klitz moved a bit closer to you, feeling compelled to hold onto your hand to comfort you and as a way to show how passionate he felt towards you. 

"I'm just afraid that you would see me as I see myself." You muttered, looking off towards the plains of the park while the birds chirped a subtle song.
Klitz's nervousness never failed to return; he wanted to compliment and reassure you so desperately, so he held his breath, his shoulders tensing up as he gazed at your stunning complexion. "However you see yourself... I'm sure it's just you overthinking." Klitz quickly turned away with a reddened face. "If you could only see how you look in my eyes, you'd understand why I'd ever confess." His voice was ridden with nerves, making him stumble upon his words. "Come on, grow a pair; this isn't the time to be nervous." You couldn't tell, but he was slapping himself in the face inside his mind.
You suddenly felt a pair of lips collide against yours. The kiss was a bit clumsy but sweet, no less. You were shocked, to say the least, but that didn’t stop you from smiling at the kiss, and soon your eyes fluttered to a close. You rested your hand on his cheek and let out a blissful hum, still enraptured by the intimacy you both were sharing. But eventually u pull away feeling so many emotions at the same time, good emotions, though u look up at klitzy, who was now wearing the same expression as yours but slightly different, it looked worried as if he didn’t think u might’ve actually liked him back before u could utter anything out klitz starts spitting out apologizes like there is no end to them.
I-I’m so sorry I-knew this was a dumb idea a-and I shouldn’t have k-kissed u like that I-I’m really sorry. Before anymore pointless sorrys could come out of his trembling self, you tugged down the collar of his shirt, now facing you at eye level, as you gently placed your soft lips on his, making sure to put every single loving molecule that is in your body through that damn kiss. As you slowly separated from each other, you look up at him.
Nothing but admiration was behind those small dorky glasses he never grew out of; no words were exchanged between you, just loving glances as you lean onto him, touching temples. You whisper back to him those sweet three little words Kiltzy was aching to hear.
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He finally grew some balls and said those three words 👍🤓
A/n thank u so much for reading I really hope u enjoyed this ( I apologize if klitz sounds too ooc it was my first time writing for him ) don’t forget to drink some water👹
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temtamtom · 1 year ago
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so cool to find hetalia fans from different countries! Where in Italy are you from? What headcanons do you have about the boys? And what human names do you use for them? I’m so curious!
Hi!
Technically I’m from Lombardy, but I’m from a town that’s riiiight on the border of Emilia-Romagna. So in terms of culture (and dialect), I have more in common with the nearby Emilian city than Milano. But I don’t live in Italy for a majority of the year, I actually live in France!
Anyways onto the more interesting stuff- some thoughts/headcanons on their names:
I use ���Romano” and “Feliciano” for the twins’ human names! Both of these names originate from their childhoods
As was customary in Ancient Rome, Romano, being the eldest son (though still a twin ofc) would have gotten the same name as his father. Like Rome, his name was Publius Romilius Romanus (+ any agnomen or nickname that the people around him would use). As time went on, Romano stuck to his cognomen and it soon turned into “Romano”.
Feliciano’s childhood name was Gaius Romilius Felix, and over time Felix turned into Feliciano.
I like to think the twins use each other’s old, Roman names when they’re being petty with each other ebchbsd
A small tangent, but still related to names- in a lot of my human AUs Rome is technically “Romano Sr.” But I imagine his friends gave him the nickname Romolo (or Romulus, for the bit) and it’s stuck for years.
None of the brothers, Seborga included, have a middle name.
For modern last names, I currently use De Cesare but I’m still sorta on the fence about it? I do like it, but I wonder sometimes if I should go with something else. Also, I think the twins had different surnames pre-unification. I still haven’t decided on what they’d be, though.
There’s a lot more I could’ve gone into, especially with Roman naming conventions, their ancient/childhood names, etc. but I think I’ll leave that for a future post if people are interested in knowing more :o
I really do wanna share other headcanons but I’m sorta blanking rn because the question is very general 😅 If you or anyone else want me to talk about specific headcanons (pets, relationships, sillier things, historical stuff, etc. etc.) feel free to ask! Don’t be shy, I love talking about these idiots
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abiiors · 2 years ago
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idk if youre taking reqs so only if you are ❤️ can you write a little something of ross getting a sexy pic from his s/o? xx
it seems, i only have two emotions rn -- sad and horny. anyway, have some phone sex 😌
minors dni!!
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ten minutes to go. 
that’s what the stage tech whispers to them while ross stands at the side, watching their opening act serenade the crowd. she’s good, really good. one of the indie artists their label picked up along the way. unfortunately, she’s not good enough to keep his attention on her when his phone dings in his pocket. 
or it could just have to do with the fact that it’s not the usual ding. it’s the special one he has set just for you. to his dismay, it’s not a call, only a text. but he steps away from the lights to properly look at it. 
it’s an innocent enough notification. 
[attachment: one image]
but his heart speeds up as he clicks on it. knowing you, he knows that the photo is going to be anything but innocent. and oh how right he is…
his breath hitches when he sees the sexy black number, lacy and translucent, deep enough to show almost your entire boobs to him but it cuts off right as he gets to the good part. that, however, is nowhere near as scandalous as the lower half of the photo. because your panties are clearly not on you. no. they are right next to you. and the photo cuts off just above where your hand is buried suggestively between your thighs. 
the second text comes five seconds after the first one. good luck, my darling. i miss you xx
before he knows it, he’s hitting the call button and making his way hurriedly to find some quiet, secluded dressing room. 
“you little minx,” he breathes down the line as soon as you pick up. he’s already half hard in his trousers, and your breathy, seductive giggle doesn’t help matters. ross can’t help but palm himself lightly at the sound. 
“hi,” you speak into the phone, mischief dancing in your tone. “just wanted to wish you good luck before the show.”
he hums, leaning against a wall in the dark quiet room, “and you usually call to do that…”
“well, i was a little busy…”
he can practically imagine you twirling a strand of hair around your finger, one long fingernail combing through your soft hair. he’s been dying to touch them again, dying to feel your fingernails scratch on his back while you moan and scream his name over and over again. 
“what were you doing?” he asks. and then, shamelessly unzips his trousers. 
he’s painfully hard by now, aching and desperate to feel you around him. but since you are currently in another country, he has no other option but to touch himself like a sixteen year old boy. the thought of you doing just the same drives him insane. 
“nothing. just wondering how it would feel to have you here right now… to feel your fingers instead of mine.”
he hears your breath quiver on the last words. it’s almost enough to drive him crazy.
wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, he lets your uneven breathing wash over him. this is so irresponsible, so reckless. he only has nine minutes, for fucks sake…
but ross can’t help himself, not when it comes to you. 
“thumb on your clit,” he says, “just like i do. you want to feel good, don’t you?”
he can practically picture you nodding, forgetting that he can’t see. he can picture your thumb on your clit, smaller and softer than his fingers but enough to make you moan softly. 
“i w-want to feel good,” you gasp. 
the risk of the situation makes it even hotter. anyone can walk in on him right now, anyone can hear the filthy words and sounds that come out of his mouth. he can feel it as he pumps himself, relishing and groaning, imagining that it’s your hand instead. 
“you’re dripping wet for me right now, aren’t you love? getting off on my voice,” he teases. beads on precum bubble up his tip and he spreads them over his length, imagining your wetness on his cock. he remembers it too well, knows that it’s been too long since he’s felt it. 
“ross, i need…” you trail off, half a sentence ending in a moan, as you lose your train of thought. that always happens when he rubs circles on your clit. that's what happening now as you do the same.
“i know baby,” he grounds out, lightheaded from how good it feels, how good you sound. “just three more weeks now before i fuck you till you can’t remember your own name. is that what you want?”
“yes,” you breathe into the phone, “my fingers don–don’t feel like yours do.”
he knows they don’t. some primal, male part of him relishes in the fact that no one can fuck you as well as he does. his cock throbs in his hand, his body is ready for a release, so desperate now that your moans have become erratic on the phone. but he misses the wet, filthy and obscene sounds when you’re both close to cumming. he misses all the ways you cry out for him. 
“fuck, fuck, i’m going to cum,” you cry out into the phone, “please.”
ross hisses, fisting himself hard now, he’s close too, he can feel it. all your moans go straight to his dick bringing him closer and closer to the edge. and to hear you so hot and bothered, to imagine your slick dripping down your hand as you think of him and cry out for him does unspeakable things to him. 
“go on darling,” he hisses, struggling to keep his voice down, “let go for me.”
it’s a shame he can’t see the face you make when you orgasm—mouth slack, eyes rolling to the back of your as you arch your back off the bed. he can imagine your legs trembling as you gush on your hand, clenching around your own fingers, whimpering at the way it feels. it’s too much for him.
with a strangled grunt he cums into his own hand. hard and hot, semen spilling down his hand, wet and sticky, almost how you would feel. his knees go weak, the phone almost slips from his hand when he remembers how you taste. 
he has tasted you so often that he can recall it perfectly now, almost make himself delude into thinking that he can feel it lingering on his tongue. 
“did that feel good ross?” you ask, panting and barely able to get the words out. “it felt so good for me, your voice…fuck, baby it was so hot.”
it takes him a few more seconds to recover, breathing heavily, as he tries to find some tissues for himself—a half empty box, lying on the cluttered table. 
“shit, love,” he laughs, lightheaded from the sensation, from your voice, “shit, how am i supposed to go perform now, huh?”
you giggle in response and almost as if on cue, he notices another incoming call, this time from adam, then he notices the time and a slew of curses fly from his mouth. 
“three more weeks,” you say, “now go and smash it out there. i’m watching the livestream. who knows,” you click your tongue, “maybe i’ll go for a round two…”
ross laughs, zipping himself up again and hoping that the others can’t tell what he was up to, shit, a minute before the show. 
“three more weeks,” he says and hopes that muscle memory is enough to get him through the show. 
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sunshine-omega · 2 years ago
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Hello, Cumin here, thanks for the response and as a neurodivergent person yeah that makes sense
anyway NEW QUESTION (I have lots of those take your time please be patient): how would an alpha nesting work normally? I know how it works for me rn, but I wonder how others may nest, and tbh I'm looking for ideas
hey Cumin! please don't worry at all about sending lots of asks, they make my day :)
Alpha nesting really depends on the person! I know of a lot of miscecanis alphas who nest just as enthusiastically as omegas, as well as alphas who nest to a lesser degree, and alphas who don't nest. My alpha likes to nest sometimes, but her definition of nest doesn't include nearly as many blankets and pillows as mine does :P i think that her favorite kind of nest are the ones that i make though, and when she cuddles up in them, she considers that nesting for her as well.
I can't speak for other miscecanis folks, but I headcanon that alphas (and betas) in a/b/o would nest for similar instinctual reasons as omegas, but they might have different behaviors around their nest. some ideas:
alphas tend to be territorial about their den, and if that alpha is a nester, they are likely to be even more territorial about that nest
alphas with an omega mate might be less likely to build a nest because omegas tend to be so proud of making nests for themself and their mate
omega nests might be pretty fluffy with lots of pillows and blankets and scented items-- I feel like alpha nests are less fluffy, but have even more scented items to remind them of their pack or their loved ones
alphas only nest in a place where they feel absolutely secure. omegas and betas keep private nests too, but they might be more likely to also nest on the couch or somewhere less private like that
if you think that an alpha's den smells strongly, wait till you smell their nest
bonus hc: beta nesters are known for nesting in unconventional places like under their desk, and they are the best at incorporating boxes, tables, shelves, etc in order to keep their favorite things within reach of the nest
if you're looking for nest building advice, check out these posts!
my post with a guide to building/writing nests
post about nesting materials
post about hot weather nesting
at the end of the day though, please don't worry about doing it wrong. there's literally no way to do it wrong, because nesting is about what feels good to you. there's no right way for an alpha to nest compared to an omega or a beta or anyone else. if you're a nester, then nest on :)
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2econd-of-1sts · 28 days ago
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QUEEN QUEEN QUEEN QUEEN
I NEED HELP
DESPREATLY.
Maria hummed softly as she did her eyeliner. When was the last time she had let anyone taker her out? She couldn't recall. But that's fine because here she was, about to get picked up by Alejandro Vargas. The Alejandro Vargas...Her fucking Boss. What was she doing? This was her boss and all her New rookies would be right...but she liked him. A lot more than she should've for someone like herself.
Ay, dios mio, who cares? She thought as did her hair, just a simple ponytail...or should she leave it down? Let him see the curls? She hummed, took her hair out and, for a moment, saw her mother. She gulped and quickly put it back up. There, Maria...now you look like your Tia Sarita. And she's pretty enough.
She walked out of her bathroom and heard a car pull into the driveway. Alejandro. She threw on some black heels and giggled. Why was she giggling? Fuck. She was happy...couldn't let him know that. A knock on her door. She opened it and saw Alejandro in a tuxedo. She quirked a brow up "Y que es esto?" she asked, grabbing the poorly tied tie. She quickly redid it for him and saw how it made him smile.
"You said somewhere fancy...Si o no?" "Hmm, Si...I did, but-" "No buts, vamos! I even got out the good car." Maria blinked. He had other cars? "Well. The one car i don't use for work. Sports car," he rambled. And she listened. They walked out to the car and Maria blurted out, "Camaro, two thousand and eighteen, right?" Alejandro quirked a brow up. "You know about cars?" Maria blushed and looked down at her heels. "Not a lot...just, some models and standard facts."
Alejandro chuckled and opened the passanger seat's door for her. "Well, hop in if you want." And she did. She got in, sat down, buckled up and hummed. Clean...new air freshener...soft music playing when he turned on the engine. Okay...she had to give it to him. This was looking to be a very good impression on her. She smiled and asked, "So where'd you buy this?" Alejandro hummed and said, "Off of Rudy's uncle. He was going to scrap it, but i told him i'd take it and fix it up. Wasn't really all that bad, but still."
Maria nodded, "Why was he gonna scrap it?" "Someone brought it to his junkyard." "Ah..." Maria nodded again. Alejandro hummed and smoothly turned the wheel-wait. What? Why was she looking at the way he palm was laying on the steering wheel? The way his fingers let go of it and the way he moved said palm with the wheel as it turned.
Get your head together, Maria.
She hummed softly and looked out the window. Fuck, say something or this will be one hell of an awkward drive. "So, where are we going, anyways?" she asked, Alejandro chuckled and said, "You said not to tell. So I'm not." and Maria fake pouted. Alejandro snuck a glace over to her and sighed, he was such a weak man when it came to her. "It's a good place, trust me...they have pretty good food...nothing on my cooking, but edible enough." Maria laughed. "Says el hombre who can't even bake cookies." Alejandro groaned.
"Will you ever let me live that down, Mi Amor?" Maria shook her head, "No." Alejandro sighed again and parked the car. Wow. Fast driver. Wonder what else he's fast at? Wait-no. Fuck no-"Maria...Essstaaas biieno orr?" Alejandro dragged out uncertainly, she nodded and said, "Si, si, just uhm..." she looked down at her heels. Alejandro took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "You don't have to say. Vamos."
He took her hand gently and she let him. Alejandro felt like he was walking on eggshells the whole time he was holding her hand...he didn't know why though. Well, maybe it's because you've seen what she can do, Estupido, he scolded himself. He chekced in for his reservation and got lead to a private table.
LIKE UHMMMMMM IM IN A BLOCK RN.
alsooooooo, DONT MARRY ZEUS, THE GOD AWFUL WOMANIZER.
@valscodblog IM ACTIVELY S C R E A M I N G I LOVE WHEN I GET TO SEE ✨WORDS✨
NDKSKKFKWOFUABCKAO PLS QUEEN I AM ACTIVELY SQUEALING OVER THESE TWO DORKS I WANT THEM TO FALL IN L O V E AND BE H A P P Y 😮‍💨🙏🙏🙏
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narwhalandchill · 7 months ago
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(soo ignition teaser thoughts ig)
hmmmm im ngl the trailer itself as a like prelude to what is coming in 5.0 intrigue and plot wise is like. compared to the region teasers that came before w lazzo and overture. its just. its kinda bad im sorry KWKJKWDJKWDJK like okay cool seeing the new cast and production value is high as always (+ music) but its such a middling teaser for the story itself?? it feels like a powerpoint presentation of the cast more than anything narratively coherent with an inherent draw and mystery
like theres mavuika speaking to the flame thingy (xbalanque that u? "one entombed in the primal fire" perhaps????) with some intrigue i suppose as well as her brief thing w capitano. ororon also appearing to be working together or aligned with capitano given theyre standing together there which could make for an interesting plot thread but beyond that its very.... eh. its not giving us a lot to grip onto ya know???? and thats rly a shame especially since i also felt that way abt the teaser in the 4.8 livestream. i wish we got more
and sure theres a tournament wahoo but like. its really Not helping to hype up that thing when half the introduced cast isnt being like "OMG the tournament!!!!1!1 this is HUGE!!!1" (or even. "oh no this is BAD!!!1" to set up basic conflict. like why would they dread it?) but instead just. "oh right... the tournament 🙄🙄" like who thought that was a good idea 😭😭 if the PEOPLE of natlan dgaf abt the big plot event happening then how am i as the viewer supposed to feel majorly invested in it . wow theyre tossing a ball around . wow nobody wants it guess ur tournament is having a bit of a PR issue in the making mavuika lmao
anyway i wouldnt even call myself a true capitano glazer despite being a fatuiHQ enjoyer on the side but like. that hmph still carried welcome capHIMpeaktano truly o7 JWDJWDJKDWJK also did yall see the. anemo-ish turquoise flare when mavuika is confronting (?) him? wonder if thats a thing with her flames or is it implying cap as anemo or sth.... i think itd fit him decent enough but ya. looking forward to HIM for sure
(+ congrats to him for losing the goofy timbs from arles animated short lmao like his design looks so fucking sick now)
character design wise uhhhh. well theres the obvious huge fucking issue here and while id say that hoyo p much already showed their true colors on the matter with sumeru that doesnt rly. make it any less disappointing and egregious wrt all the cultures and peoples theyre So willing to gather inspiration from in all possible aspects Other than the diversity of the people themselves. like its just... bad and such a shame but also not very surprising unfortunately.
(and really it just. looks especially bad given they clearly Can put melanin on people its just... enemy mobs only.)
beyond that i kind of dont have anyone that super catches my eye rn??? mainly because . well leaks moment eek but its basically official info now so basically. xilonens existence as a geo and a 5* (which like . u dont need leaks to guess she will be im sorry jdwjdw) was leaked a bit ago as well as the patch she should appear meaning. im actually in chiori rerun savings mode since its very high chance that she will be back w xilonen if anyone. so thats my plan for now kjdwjkdwjkdwjk
in terms of the actual cast i do like kinich and ororons designs v much, the design motifs of the latter especially are interesting bc those eye-like patterns are almost giving quantum symbol (= black hole imagery) to me???? and thats V interesting especially if hes actually working w capitano and the fatui. now him being a cat boy or whatever animals ears those turn out to be isnt like sth thats huge for Me personally but i do think hes valid and also W for anyone whos into that, congrats guys im happy for u ! but like fr itd be such an insane twist if hoyos Finally introducing the void quantum abyss whatever element w him (and maybe cap too.) bc that symbol Rly is looking Curious. or then hes just electro lol. for kinich its like. yeah fair he might be xiao-tighnari-gaming from minecraft ill admit that but. i do like the color scheme and his outfit a lot JKWJKDJKDWJKD so like i forgive it
w the girlies i overall find them all like. quite nice but so far without any personality + lore known its hard to settle my complete thoughts on them just yet. tho citlali being pink is super refreshing for genshin since we do have a shocking absence of it so like shes definitely one im drawn to, chasca looks interesting and like she could play a bigger part plot wise (maybe?) so that might be neat. both her and citlali being cryo is kinda surprising?? but cool. maybe ill get to unbench my shenhe and play some cryo teams again lmao freeze has been dead in abyss for so long now....
xilonen again w the kemomimi isnt sth im particularly into or not into but she looks cool, depending on personality and how her kit synergies turn out (+ assuming the chiori rerun, the fate of those pulls too), i might try for her as well? theres an Energy to her i like it. if she has proper Attitude and flair thats gonna be a massive bonus for me
mualani i think is rather bland to me, sth about her outfit and design just doesnt click for me even if the shark thing from the teaser before is neat and everything. the chibis are never sth im actively drawn to but like both do look okay, im kinda hoping kachina could be a lynette moment for 5.x and end up a free 4* since her exploration roomba looks p fun
anyway then theres. mavuika and i. well at least the design wasnt. That concept art one (ThoseWhoKnow...) . so instant massive W improvement solely on that basis holy fucking shit but ehhhhh im sorry i still dont know how to feel abt the very modern like. biker bodysuit thingy. im not a huge fan of the bodysuit type designs anyway so its not that surprising but still. her eyes + hair is absolutely stunning tho like not a question at all.
tbh in a way i kinda feel like having too many Thoughts on her design is kinda just unnecessary bc like. shes the archon. of Course the kit is going to be insane so i will get her anyway (UNLESS a pyro onfielder JKWJKJKWJKWJKWFKJ like god please no). and in terms of like is her design and energy from what this vid is giving us good enough that i wont like. Actively resent having to get her for meta and strong teams??? Absolutely. so in that sense ig its all cool lmao
but yeah. idk i just think as a teaser for the upcoming story its rly a shame how weak this felt for me???? like sure overture ended up being a bit of a misleading teaser since it gave the impression of arle as this mastermind of the fontaine AQ which didnt rly happen but it still served as a source of hype and intrigue. and yes lazzo is sth that can Never rly be beat in terms of how out of nowhere it was and how fucking insane the whole harbinger reveal went (+ elogia cinerosa existing) for lore and long term hype but its just. unfortunately those 2 are the regional teasers this natlan one is supposedly meant to parallel and it just didnt deliver anything comparable to those for me
like still looking forward to natlan and seeing the rest of its cast (like im fairly convinced the flame thingy might be xbalanque and hes gonna be a big deal ultimately or sth) and where it goes and all its environments but this trailer didnt rly. grip me the way i wouldve expected it to. which is unfortunate kdjkdwjkwjkdwj but yea thats all
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imjussaiyan · 1 year ago
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Anyone else have a sibling that HAS to have ALL the attention and is entitled as fuck?
My sister is so fucking entitled it makes me sick. And she’s fake on top of it all.
So I know accidents happen and it only takes one time to get pregnant. And I know you’re wondering why this is an issue and you’re probably thinking I’m an asshole.
Well, we live on the family farm with our parents because this country is a hellscape. She was going through trade school, which fine I get them supporting her through that. However, her boyfriend lives here too (that’s partially my parents stupid mistake) and neither of them have a job or source of income.
Like. At all.
My parents FULLY support them financially and otherwise. And they had the fucking nerve to get pregnant and KEEP it..? On someone else’s dime? In a home that there is literally no room for a good damn baby? With a broke ass, dead beat ass fiancé..? Because of course they’re engaged. Idk how they’re going to get married or with what money. She wants to do that before she has the baby. L O FUCKING L.
Oh, but there’s more. Not only did my parents and I pay for her trade school, she slacked off and took too many “personal days” because she was upset about social things at school. Which created MORE fees adding up to 2300 dollars. Which I paid so she could graduate. Bitch. You are almost 22. Shut the fuck up.
ON TOP of that, I found a nice little manufactured home for a low price and showed her because it was cute. Not that I can afford it, but it’s fun to window shop and the bitch says, “I should have mom and dad help me with that.”
Our parents cannot afford to do that. And I told her so. She then gets all sad and butthurt. Like, excuse me? We literally grew up poor as dirt and she thinks our parents are just going to buy her everything? I know they spoiled the fuck out of her and that’s partially why she’s such a selfish brat, but honestly, it’s her personality.
But wait. THERE’S MORE.
Not only is she pregnant on our parents dime, she signed up for state insurance incorrectly and was just going to give up even after our other sister told her exactly how to do it and offered help. Her response? “Oh, mom and dad will pay for it.”
WITH WHAT MONEY, BITCH?!
She does next to fucking nothing around the house and is overly fucking sensitive about anything and everything. She’s also a little bitch ass know it all and she literally has no fucking clue about how anything in this world works, including her own body. Yes. She doesn’t even know how her vagina works and she decides to have a god damn baby that no one can afford.
And now I’m the asshole because I’m NOT excited. Nor do I have to be. She lied about “the condom didn’t fit right.” Then why did you do it? Especially when she KNEW she was ovulating..?
She tried to have a kid with her last fiancé under the same exact circumstances, but aborted that one because she realized it was a bad idea. Mind you, I’m the only one who knows this. If my hyper religious parents found out, they’d go ballistic. Part of me wishes I hadn’t protected her from that. Anyway, she did this shit on purpose. I know when she’s lying and she can’t even keep her lame ass story straight.
I am so done with her rn.
**** UPDATE
He finally got a decent job. Even though he could’ve been working a meager in between one instead of relying on my family for everything for over a year… but whatever I guess. At least he’s got a job now.
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leglessstreetlights · 2 years ago
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it happened broskis!! i'm 17 now!! and life is a hellscape :DDDDD
genuinely though, i need to take a moment to look back on the past year and thank the rottmnt fandom for everything it's brought to my life, and all the joy it continues to bring. i joined the fandom sometime in december after seeing a meme, and that led me down a whole fuckin rabbit hole. i had no idea that i would get to meet the most wonderful people, and have the chance to improve my art skills and writing skills in a community that is so earnestly friendly and such a safe space for me. i have no intentions of stopping contributing to it any time soon, but it feels amazing to know that i'll always have this space to think back on as a warm memory in the future.
everyone here is so kind, and creative, and it really helped me in a time where my mental health was fucking terrible and the only thing that helped was drawing fugking turgles sduyfgkusdyfhasdifukh i love you all, i cherish your friendships, whether i know you through discord, or on here, or if i've never spoken to you before, but you've enjoyed the things i've made, you're amazing and i love you
(special shout-outs to my besties, bc y'all made me feel so welcome here and i never would have imagined being able to do this shit w/o y'all: @shittygaypornmagazine @teainthesnow @intotheelliwoods @beeceit @thetacoshellturtle @last-hourglass @dandylovesturtles @cartoonhostage and coral but idk what coral's tumblr is lmao, and anyone else in the discord i'm forgetting rn bc i have a terrible damn memory, but ily anyways, y'all are great and i'm so fugking glad i met u <33333)
also also, i've never talked to them before directly but @wraenata you are an angel and i would die for you and so would every other artist here, we love you, we cherish you, you're the favorite Person <33333
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