#if all of my base needs were met. MAYBE it would be distressing

[actual-corpse]

I wish I was allowed to be lgbt+

I wonder if I would be happier. Feel more fulfilled. Find love, not only external but also internal.

[darthwhorecrux]

Based on this beautiful request from my sister wife @tomitsulikeslemons <3

Another Friday night had come and gone. It was sometime past one in the morning, the dance floor packed, vibrating with hip hop music, and colorful lights weaved through the sea of sweaty, intoxicated bodies. You and your friends had wriggled your way out of the crowd, off to have one last drink, though none of you needed it. That was evident in the way you sauntered through the stuffy air carelessly, a slant in your step, every thought, thing, person, scenario funnier than it really was, reality viewed through a different lens. By the way your friends talked and acted you knew they shared your state of mind, the trio of you fueled off one another. 

What you didn't share with them was your desire to leave this place. Dancing to the latest hits was fun for a while, but your heart craved something else. All night you'd longed for a change of scenery, a specific place in mind. Most of the bars would be closing soon. You'd shied away from bringing it up all night, but halfway through what was supposed to be your final drink, it became now-or-never.

"We should go to the jazz bar!" you announced, beaming excitedly to hide the embarrassed blush coating your cheeks. 

As expected, you were immediately met with resistance, both of your friends giving you eye rolls, exhausted groans and disapproving shakes of the head. 

"Seriously?!" One of them grumbled, unafraid to give it to you straight. "That place is sooo dead. Every time we go there it makes me want to fall asleep," she voiced dramatically. Your other friend nodded her agreement, taking a long, tired sip from her drink. 

"It's romantic and luxurious," you countered. "You just don't know how to appreciate good music." It was your turn to take a long sip now, glancing to the side and raising your eyebrows over your glass. 

"HEY!" She shouted while your other friend simultaneously accused, "oh, please, we all know you're not going for the music."

"Yes I am!" You whined defensively, though you understood immediately what she meant, especially by the shit-eating grin spreading on her face. 

"That's right," your other friend giggled, catching on, the two of them exchanging devious glances. "You only got into jazz because you want the owner's PICKLE!" She chanted the last bit, cupping her hands around her mouth for the whole club to hear, or at least those nearby. 

"It’s not true!" You hissed. "Maybe I just like going somewhere where random men aren't constantly trying to get behind me like dogs!" You took another drink from your glass, nervously chugging.

"Yeah, yeah, none of them can compare to your little jazz boyfriend, we know," your friend snorted. The other joined in her laughter, the two of them like goofy, taunting hyenas. 

"I'm - I can't - that's not even remotely true," you stammered, repeating yourself, crossing your arms over your chest, looking all too interested at the contents in your glass. 

"She's blushing!" They pointed at and prodded your cheeks. 

"My cheeks always get red when I drink!" You snapped back, swatting their hands away. 

"Okay, okay," your friend giggled, waving her hand dismissively to get you to calm down. "We'll go with you."

"Really?" 

"If," she paused for effect, "you admit you want to get the mario coins knocked out of you by the owner."

"You're insane,” you scoffed and shook your head.

"No, you are,” your other friend jumped back in. “We're your best friends! You can tell us! We make great wing women." She grinned and nudged your other friend.

"You do not-"

You were interrupted by her beginning to mock you, words you would never say, altering her voice to sound high-pitched and damsel-in-distress-y, “you’re the only one who truly understands music, Daddy!”

“Let’s listen to some of your jazz while we fuck!” Your other friend naturally went along. 

They carried on, one of them moaning and tossing her hair while the other sang a classic jazz song in a deep, cartoony voice. A group of men nearby started to look over, curious at the spectacle. It was then that you clapped your hands over each of their mouths, silencing their torment.

One of them licked your hand, causing you to recoil. "Sorry,” she giggled. “We're done."

"Well, I'm not interested in going anymore,” you pouted. 

"Don't be so stubborn,” your friend said, taking a quick sip of her drink and stirring the ice around. “Let me finish my drink. Then we can go see your man," she promised.

Your pout twitched, etching into a smile while your other friend winked at you and began to chug her glass. 

Not much later, the three of you took to the streets, staggering along to the jazz bar you adored so much. With each step you found yourself turning inward, getting in your head about your appearance and your general vibe. You hoped your makeup and hair didn’t look too run-down from the night’s activities, or that it wasn’t too obvious in your heavily-lidded eyes that you were far from sober. You even found yourself smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in your long, elegant dress, a piece you had picked out with the intention of ending up here later tonight. The closer you got to your destination, the more you attempted to straighten out, to walk more gracefully and practice opening lines in your mind. Your anxious thoughts only ceased when your trio clicked up to the bouncer, arms interlocked, no need to show him your IDs. You were familiar faces at this establishment after all. 

But then, he wasn’t stepping aside, didn’t lift the velvet rope and gesture you in as he normally did with a “welcome back, ladies.” He stood firm with his hands clasped, forcing a practiced frown as he said instead, "sorry ladies. We're closing up in about fifteen minutes. Can't come in."

Your heart sank. Dramatic as it was, you felt your night had been wholly ruined by this piece of information, by this denied entry. Your friends watched your enthusiastic expression fall, and one of them broke from the group immediately, clacking forward with an aggressive, steely look in her eyes that you knew all too well. 

"So? Let us in for fifteen minutes," she demanded, hands on her hips and chest puffed out. 

The bouncer towered over her, unmoving. "We can't.” He shrugged carelessly. “The doors are shut."

His resolute words made you deflate even more, but further provoked your feisty friend. "Seriously?” She shifted her weight onto one leg, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her heel against the concrete. “Where's the owner? I want him to tell us."

"No, no.” You tugged at her elbow, disconcerted by the prospect of bothering him. You pulled her back into line with you and your other friend. “It's fine. We'll go," you said decisively, not wanting to start conflict at his bar.

"Uh, no we won't.” Once she had a mission in mind, she didn’t back down. She raised a manicured pointer finger in the air. “I didn't walk all the way here to get turned away. We come here all the time, and many of those times we were here past two am! Is this how you treat valued customers?!"

The bouncer still didn’t seem to want to budge, looking bored with the three of you. He rolled his neck this way and that while your friend snapped at him, his mind likely only halfway here. It only added to your humiliation, had you angling your feet in the opposite direction, trying to nudge your friends away, but they weren’t conceding. 

"Yeah, c'mon dude, seriously,” your other friend joined in the fray. “Three young things like us?” She gestured between the three of you. “You need us in there."

"Maybe when we opened several hours ago,” he opposed, letting the slightest bit of irritation slip into his tone before regaining his composure. “I really am sorry, girls, but it's policy."

"Policy? Policy?!” That made your temperamental friend explode, her arms flailing about in the air between them. “What are you, the goddamn police?!"

"It's okay!” You pulled her back again, panicked. This had already escalated too far. “We can come another night! No big deal!” You offered a sheepish, crooked smile to the bouncer, chuckling nervously as you attempted to steer your trio away for the last time. “Sorry for the trouble."

"No!” Your friend frowned, stomping her foot childishly, not yet ready to accept defeat. “You were excited! We're not leaving!"

You sighed, exasperated and uncomfortable with so much confrontation at a place you loved so much. "I'm telling you it's-"

"Is there a problem here?" 

The four of you followed the familiar voice, like deers in headlights, peering up at the owner as he stood at the top of the stairs in front of the entrance in a wide stance, eyes narrowed down at the group of you. 

You froze at the sight of him, breath catching in your throat. 

Shinji.

"No, no boss,” the bouncer scrambled to explain, sounding much less indifferent than he had moments ago. The large man turned small in Shinji’s presence, not so tough now. “Just telling these ladies we'll be closing up soon."

His narrowed gaze slid smoothly from his employee over to the three of you. When his eyes met yours, they softened, his glare reserved for man and man only. "Oh, it's my girls."

You squeaked as your friend shoved you forward, nearly knocking you over the rope. You straightened, just like you had practiced, smiling tightly and waving bashfully up at him. 

"Hey, sweetheart,” Shinji chuckled languidly, slowly beginning his descent down the stairs towards you. “Ya coming in?"

"We're trying to,” your friend grumbled from behind, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the bouncer, eager to pin blame on him. “Are you gonna fire this guy or what?" 

"Whatever you want darlin',” Shinji laughed, unhooking the rope and ignoring his bouncer’s dumbfounded expression. “Come on, then."

Your friends giggled excitedly at the VIP treatment, as if they weren’t complaining about having to come here thirty minutes ago, prancing forward and up the stairs. You lingered behind, murmuring another “sorry” to the bouncer before you moved to follow them. 

Shinji held out his arm for you to take. “I was beginning to think I wasn’t gonna get to see ya tonight.” He eyed your figure. “Looking so pretty too.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” You smiled coyly, taking his arm and letting him lead you inside, careful not to trip up the stairs. 

You were met with the usual scene, dim lighting, gold, reds, purples, the woodsy aroma of whiskey mixed with cigar smoke and expensive perfumes, two men gathered in hushed conversation at the bar, a new couple huddled together in the corner playing footsies, an old one twirling with each other on the floor to a romantic tune, glimpses of lovers and loners alike on the balcony, and your friends already spinning each other around, looking wild and beautiful and catching the eyes of most men in here, however young or old. 

Shinji was not one of them, too busy with his eyes on you. “Are ya thirsty, baby doll?”

Every little variation of pet name he gave you made your chest flutter, the sweet names and phrases like doses of sugar coming from him. It gave you a rush, and you couldn’t get enough. You were an addict, constantly coming back for more. “Can I just have a water?”

“You can have whatever you like,” he responded, detaching from your side to slide behind the bar, his bartender occupied with flirtatious women at the end. 

Shinji made quick work of filling your glass, throwing in a lemon and garnishing it with a small flower. You giggled your thanks when he handed it to you, making him grin adoringly as you sipped from the pretty glass, perched in the stool across from him.  

You were working up the courage to launch into conversation with him, racking your brain for how to start calmly when he made you feel so airy and excitable, when one of his regulars was slinking up to the bar, coming to catch up before saying his goodbyes for the night.

“Hey!” Shinji beamed towards him before throwing you an apologetic look. “I’ll be back for ya,” he assured before he was off, playing the gracious owner. 

You waited impatiently for him to return, not-so-subtly watching as he got trapped in one conversation after the next, getting to know some of the unfamiliar faces before they left for the night or revisiting with returning patrons. Envy burned in your chest, observing them stealing away your time with him when you had been waiting for this all night. 

As the clock neared and then passed two am, despite the fact that Shinji never formally kicked anyone out, most people filed out on their own, some stopping him to thank him or to chat about their night or their most recent heartbreak or how their job has been so shitty and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. You supposed you couldn’t blame them - Shinji was easy to talk to, attentive, humorous and ran a damn good establishment, but you couldn’t help the mounting frustration any time another straggler prevented him from making his way back to you, stealing even more precious time as the night progressed into the wee small hours of the morning. You were getting bitter, silently commanding everyone in the room to please, just leave.

Your friends sashayed their way over to you, one of them faking a yawn. “Looks like it’s closing time,” she observed, throwing you a suggestive look.

“You’re leaving?” Your brows furrowed.

“I mean, yeah,” your other friend laughed. “What? You want us to stay and watch when he…” she trailed off, making a lewd gesture with her hands.

“Didn’t realize you were into that,” they joked.

“That’s not going to happen.” You blushed deeply. “And I’m wondering if I should leave with you.” You glanced longingly in Shinji’s direction, watching him speak with an old pair who were here every week. “He seems like he’s pretty busy. I haven’t really got to talk to him all night.” You looked at your glass of melted ice sadly.

“You have to stay!” Your friend urged you. “You came here for a reason. Don’t pussy out.”

“Do you want us to stay until everybody else is gone?” Your other friend offered.

It was tempting, but you weren’t going to make them sit here with you when they were ready to go. Besides, it seemed like there were only a couple of others left aside from the old couple, and all of Shinji’s staff had already cleaned up and gone. If you were staying, surely, it wouldn’t be much longer until you got him all to yourself. Your friend was right. Now was not the time to pussy out. You’d waited this long, what was a little longer?

“That’s okay.” You smiled, getting down from your stool to hug and kiss them goodbye. “Thank you guys for coming with me.”

“You know we always will. Go get some pickle.” They smacked your butt before departing, waving teasingly to Shinji as they sidled past the chattery old people. 

At the sight of their exit, Shinji looked your way, confirming that you were still there, waiting for him. He smirked to himself before turning back to the old couple, exchanging their last words before he helped them out and down the stairs, returning to say and wave goodbye as the other few remaining people wrapped it up and left. 

It was finally just the two of you, the moment you had been wishing for all night. An upbeat jazz song echoed around the vacant space as he made his way back to your side. He looked a little delirious, dark smudges under his wandering eyes, a few more of his buttons undone, revealing more of his chest. He was probably worn out from the long night. It made him look impossibly sexier.    

“Hi,” he greeted playfully.

“Hi,” you said timidly, pushing down the feral urges rising to the surface. “Again. Those old people have a later bedtime than I do.”

Shinji grinned amusedly at your passive aggressive joke. “I’m sorry for disappearing for so long.” He snuck in closer, whispering, “did ya miss me?”

“Maybe,” you whispered back, heating up under his intense gaze.

“I sure missed you,” he confessed, bringing a hand to ghost over your waist. His eyes dropped to follow the motion. “I like this dress,” he complimented. “Yer a real knockout. I was afraid someone else was going to come and snatch you up.”

“You’re being dramatic.” You reached for your hair to smooth down the messy strands.

“I’m not,” he disagreed seriously, his voice dropping an octave. It was silent for a moment, nothing but the surround sound of jazz, and the transition into a slower and more sensual instrumental. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have to wait for anyone. By the way, how much trouble did my bouncer give ya earlier?” He raised an eyebrow threateningly. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, honestly!” You laughed nervously, looking towards the entrance as you thought of his employee and the way he shrunk down when Shinji came outside. You were shrinking now in your own way, having an inkling that if you said the word, he’d truly get fired in a heartbeat, and you didn’t particularly want that on your conscience. “He was just doing his job.”

“His job is to let my girl in, no matter the day or time or whatever the hell else is going on,” Shinji said sternly. “He’s an idiot.”

“I made it in here. No hard feelings.” You tentatively put a hand on his chest, bringing yourself closer to him, some of your fingers curled against his shirt, and others on his bare skin. 

“Yer too forgiving.” He calmed, his chest rising and falling slowly beneath your touch. 

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“And what about you?”

“Well,” you avoided his eyes as you confessed, “I’m happy now…”

He smiled arrogantly. “Yeah?”

You nodded.

The music played distantly again, reminding you that you were alone with him, the only two around to hear it. Shinji’s hand fell from your waist, coming to rest atop where yours was pressed to his chest. 

“So then, shall we dance?” He asked, grinning mischievously. 

“What?” You nearly gasped, gazing at the empty floor. “I don’t dance - like that!” You panicked, imagining the intimacy of it - his hands on your waist, his body so close, moving in sync with yours to the slow music playing over the speakers. There would be no explaining away your feelings, just movement and lots of eye contact, all body language. You were all talk and no game, wobbling on your heels, sure that you were going to embarrass yourself, that you were going to put his favorite genre to shame, and then it would be all over. 

“Sure ya do,” he chuckled at your jittery state. “Yer just being shy.” He grabbed your hand, pulling it from his chest to entangle his fingers with yours, rubbing your skin with his thumb.

“I really don’t know how to.” You hesitated. “I’ll make a fool of myself.”

He shook his head, bringing the back of your hand to his lips for a chaste kiss. “Let me teach you.” 

Without another word, he was hurrying away, plunging the space into silence. He returned with an old record player, making a comment about the ��real deal” as he set it up. He left again in search for a specific record, leaving you to shuffle in place and twiddle your thumbs, rubbing the back of your hand where his lips came and went. 

While you waited, your thoughts ran unchecked, thinking again about him pulling you along the floor to something romantic, your dress swishing about at your ankles, holding his hand long enough for your palm to sweat in his…your heart hammered in your chest, beating to the wrong rhythm. You took steadying breaths, remembering to slow down, to be smooth as jazz. 

Shinji looked your way excitedly, finally putting the record in place. He rushed back over to you, and so as not to waste a moment of the song, he grabbed onto you immediately, a hand on your hip, and another taking your hand. There was no more time to worry, and only time for dance. 

The music began, like stars twinkling, the language of dreams, while strings crooned in the background. Eyes like saucers, you looked to Shinji for guidance on where to put your free hand. “Up here.” He nodded towards his shoulder. 

You delicately placed your hand where he instructed, tensing at the feel of him, at the tiniest movement of his muscles underneath the soft fabric of his dress shirt. You weren’t able to think about it for very long as your feet were pulled into movement, Shinji taking you with him to the melody. 

Of course, you found a way to complicate it, no matter how simple it was. All you had to do was move your feet where he tugged you, but you couldn’t manage even that, staggering in your heels, but he never let you falter too much, tightening his hand on your hip and his other in yours to keep you upright and in line. “Yer alright, yer okay,” he’d say. “I’ve got you.”

He never stopped, covering the expanse of the floor with his eyes on yours. You still couldn’t quite get out of your head, but it was getting easier as the song progressed. You let both Shinji and your intuition guide you, and as such, your clumsiness slowly faded away, replaced by a gracefulness you never knew you had. When you were starting to get the hang of the easy part, he was releasing your hip, keeping your hand in his and twirling you.

You laughed and squealed, feeling more at ease the more playful he was, all of the stress and the worry cascading out of you with the twirl. It was fun, the feeling of being whipped around by him, your dress and hair twirling too, so much so that it had you cheering, “again!” And of course he obliged you, spinning you around once more.  

Shinji must have been feeling as euphoric as you, opening his mouth to belt out a line of the song.

“You’d be hers if only she would call!”

The words, whether they were just lyrics to sing along to or something he really meant, stunted you. Your smile fell, your expression turning serious and fervent as his eyes bore into yours. He grinned at your stunned expression, encouraging you to listen to the lyrics more carefully as he swayed with you. 

It had you relaxing into the movement even more, the placement of your feet and your body’s responses becoming second nature as you honed in on the music. In this, you found a new appreciation for the instruments and their union, much like the way you united with Shinji now, the bliss when certain notes and sounds came together at once. 

Though the music was peaceful, the moment was intense. Your throat tightened with the way he looked at you, the way he moved you and spun you like you were a flower, the way he sang to you, “you’d be hers if only she would call.” Would he be mine? Does he want to be mine?

It had you recounting all of the times you came in here, how he always greeted you with his signature smirk when you came in and let you stay late, making cheeky remarks about whatever outfit you had on that night or paying enough attention to compliment your hair or makeup, telling creepy men to get lost when they approached you, knowing your drink order and making sure it was never empty, playing your favorite songs, walking you out and telling you that he’d see you next time…he always did. 

And tonight, all that transpired, the same protectiveness and pet names and compliments, but now, the dance. You’d always written off his behavior and his words as his personality, a natural flirt, or maybe just the fact that he needed business, and you were naive enough to fall into his trap over and over again. He was sweet and protective to all the women. After all, he’d told your friend “whatever you want darlin’” at her request that he fire the bouncer, and talked to various women, young and old, before they left tonight. 

You couldn’t deny that on your hard days, you thought about it a little too much, wondered what those conversations with other women consisted of, if maybe you were just his Friday girl and on Saturday he had another little doll staggering up to the velvet rope, batting her lashes and getting him to fulfill her every wish and command, just for the night. It was why you never took any of it too seriously before now, allowing yourself to get excited each night that you visited, but not to take it back home with you, too afraid to have your heart broken.

But being here with him tonight made everything feel real. You weren’t his Friday girl, you were his every day girl. Sure, he gave everybody sweet nicknames, but he complimented you, he searched for you, he stayed behind for you. It had been this way all along, you were just too stuck in your head, letting your insecurities cloud your judgment. If you had just called him, just given him the word, he’d be yours. 

So perceptive, it was as if Shinji knew you were overthinking it all now, worry passing over his features as he observed you. He twirled you again just to see you smile, but instead of spinning you around fully, he ended this one with his chest to your back and his arms wrapped around you, keeping you there for a moment before spinning you back out again, whisking you along and out of the room before you could see the rosiness in his cheeks.

He took you to the balcony, reconnecting with you there, the music still heard from inside as the chill night nipped at you playfully. The lyrics returned, and you strained to hear them as Shinji tucked you into his chest, rocking you more slowly now to keep you warm from the wind whipping your hair and dress around your frame. 

“When your lonely heart has learned its lesson

You’d be hers if only she would call.”

You looked up from Shinji’s chest, searching his face for the truth as the town below you started to settle into bed. 

“In the wee small hours of the morning

That’s the time you miss her most of all.”

Chills prickled your skin as the song twinkled out, the stars overhead now. When it stopped, the both of you stopped moving, but continued to hold one another, staring in silence with nothing but the distant sounds of the world around you and the whispers of an early spring night. 

Selfishly, you had to know. You needed to hear him say it, for your own peace of mind. “Do you,” you hesitated, but his soft, patient gaze brought you the rest of the way, “have feelings for me?”

“I have for a long time,” he answered you easily, seriously.

“How long?” You slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself in closer, looking at him with glassy eyes. 

“Not long after you started coming here,” again, with a quick, steadfast response. “You’ve always been my girl.”

You let your instincts take over, looking at his lips, leaning in the slightest bit, this was the call. 

And he moved in the rest of the way until your lips were pressed together, becoming yours. He didn’t have to miss you anymore - at this hour, when he was normally closing up, heading home to lie awake and think of you - because here you were, finally where he had longed for you to be, with him. 

The kiss was long, but sweet. Pure and wholesome, he kept your lips against his, and nothing more, pulling back to hug you tightly, pressing more tender kisses onto your cheek and forehead. “A long time,” he said to himself again, running his fingers through your hair as he rested his head against yours.

“I’m your girl,” you spoke to yourself too, smiling like an idiot and shivering against him, excited and a bit chilly. 

“Yer cold,” he commented, smoothing his palms down your back.

“A little.”

He hummed, rubbing his hands up and down your bare arms now. “Want to go back inside?”

“No. I like it out here.” You snuggled back into his chest, leaning against him as you observed the lights below and above. “Just keep me warm.”

He started to unbutton his shirt, untucking it from his pants and pulling it off to wrap it around you.

“You took your shirt off?!” You giggled at him in disbelief.

“My baby’s cold.” He shrugged with a smile, pulling the fabric around your naked shoulders before cuddling you back into him. 

“But you’ll be cold now,” you worried, running your hands along his bare chest and arms, exposed to the night air.

“I’m fine.” He pulled you tighter against him, repeating your words, “just keep me warm.”

Content to be here with him like this, finally yours, you reflected on your humble beginnings, when your friends were reluctant to come here with you, and then when they were refusing not to be let in. You giggled to yourself as you thought of them and how they were going to interrogate you about the rest of your night - or morning, rather. You were going to have to tell them the truth. Okay, I admit, I do want his pickle.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆

The weather this evening, that late-summer-early-fall breeze, reminds you of that special night. It’s around the same time too, the wee small hours of the morning. You’re normally asleep at this hour, but missing him more than usual, you can’t catch a wink. 

“What’re ya still doing awake?” Shinji asks when he finally returns to your shared home, peeling his clothes off and leaving them in a pile on the floor. Too exhausted for a shower, he joins you in bed. 

“Missing you.” You wrap yourself around him instantly, moaning softly at the heat rolling off of his body on this chilly night. “Have any dances tonight?”

“Hopefully one now - with you,” he growls into your neck, nipping at the skin there. 

And so, you dance, no music necessary when you both create your own. The only sounds he loves more than his jazz are the noises that come from you when he makes you feel good. Shinji’s too tired to be anywhere but in bed with you, but not too tired to make love as you say goodbye to yet another Friday night. 

[hashimasims]

Apologies for the long post ahead

(that's why I put under a cut lol)

Where do I begin? My name is Minthe Thalzoh and my mother is an Elf and my Father is an Alien!

Wait! Let me start over, sorta, from the beginning.

My father crash landed his ship in my Mother's backyard, one thing led to another and now they're the loves of each other's lives and married. They moved out to Willow Creek to start a family.

ENTER ME!

Wasn't I just the cutest little infant!?!

Anyway . . .

My parents knew even then that I was going to be a genius! Though this could have been because of my mixed species genetics. I hit almost every Milestone ahead of the expected timeline and understood and could do a lot more than a "normal" Infant.

Then I became a Toddler!

Not long after, my sister Kaeleen came around and I didn't get as much of my parent's attention, this upset me understandably but I did know that she was smaller and needed more help. I again met all my milestones and sped through all possible toddler skills before my next Lifestage.

As a child I reached the top of my class within a couple of days and worked through two Aspirations. Mom got pregnant again and gave me another sister, Kira, so I helped Kaeleen as best as I could with all her Milestones and Skills. Soon enough it was time for my next birthday.

Father's distress signal was finally answered (took them long enough!) and his world leaders were sending him - and by extension the rest of us - a rescue shuttle to pick us up and bring us back to Unvahiri. I didn't want to go, I was born on this planet and though traveling to another planet did sound like the adventure of a lifetime I made my case to stay. Father agreed as long as I could pass and graduate high school early and get into college before the shuttle got here. Of course I did it! Did you have any doubts? I got into Foxbury for a Distinguished Degree in Physics and I plan to Minor in Robotics. I even got a full ride! My parents set aside a bit of Simoleons for me once I graduate so I can buy a house and start living the Simlander Dream.

I'm sad to have missed meeting my newest sister, Laryse, in person. She was born on the way to Unvahiri, but I get video transmissions from them from time to time. They hope to make it back for when I graduate but I told them not to worry about it and I would try to set up some sort of recording for them. But that was still a long way away, I still have to pass all my classes first. It's a bit lonely right now but at least I was able to sneak my pet, Voxel, into the Dorm. I think the College Board knows he's here but hasn't said anything - yet.

So without further ado I welcome you to a (my) restart of the Not so Berry Challenge

Beginning|Previous|Next

Watcher's notes: I plan for this to be 99.9% all gameplay based but will try to add in a bit of story here and there for fun but I started this save as a de-compressor for Elucea's story which even though I plan different things and randomly write bits for it (not all will I use obvi) it does get rather tiring some days when I do get into that save file (which probably led to my being more in a building/CAS mood for a bit). I want to actually get through a TRUE challenge for once and I've tried the Not So Berry a couple times and abandoned it but through sharing my Glynnans I have made it to Gen 6 so far and don't plan on stopping so maybe by sharing my NSB gameplay I can complete this challenge for once.

Credits (I will try to remember to leave any pose credits when I use them but I can not guarantee that I will remember since I normally Queue out a scene which a good majority of the time takes 5+ posts and then try to remember to add pose credits when I've finished so I do apologize ahead of time when I inevitable forget same as I have been doing for my story with Elucea):

Minthe and Voxel picture - Cat Travels by @bananasplit-sims

Infant Minthe portrait - Happy Christmas by @simmisstrait

Toddler Minthe portrait - Xmas poses 16 by @simmerianne93

Child Minthe portraits - Family Together by @simmireen

Teen Minthe Portraits - Ordris, Kira, and Shreava (parents with infant) are posed with Portrait Poses 14 by Simmerianne93 Minthe and Kaeleen are posed with Stand By Me (redone) by @talentedtrait

Character Card by @stormistargazer

Minthe's portrait in Character card and banner portrait - F. Model Pt. VI by @sciophobis

[janicekao]

My Forever

Pairing: Count Dracula/Gerard Butler x Black oc (dark smut) Summary: Based off of the movie plot of "Dracula 2000." After years of being locked away, the charming Count Dracula visits New Orleans in the year of 2000. As he wanders away from the loud celebration of Mardi Gras, he runs into a damsel in distress... A young woman on the verge of su!cide whose image absolutely takes his breath away. Warnings: vampire, cnc, n0ncon,dub!c0n, narrative pov, rough s3x, d0m&femsub, agegap, bl00d, vi0lence, smut, su1c1de, murd3r, v1rginity taking, s0mno, s0mnophilia etc. 5438 words Wattpad link

Enjoy my babies <3 -----------------------------------

The year is 2000 and Count Dracula has finally been set free.

Being locked away in a chamber for the last seventy years has dried his body out to a state of decomposed dust. He needs blood, and he needs it now.

A group of thieves expected to encounter fortune and riches as they broke inside millionaire Mathew Van Helsing's property, Mathew being the direct decedent of the famous Vampire Hunter Abraham Van Helsing. Little did the thieves know that Van Helsing's chamber had no riches... The chamber was only used to protect mankind from the evils of a vampire that simply cannot be destroyed.

The thieves opened Dracula's bolted shut coffin and met their immediate demise. Dracula drained each of them of their blood, one by one.

The blood pouring down his throat sends a chill down his spine each time. His crumbling skin turns back into lively-youthful flesh, and Dracula becomes handsome once again.

Awoken! And back to being the womanizer that he's been for thousands of years, he's eager to see what the minxes of this generation will be like... the thought alone hardens his cock and protrudes his fangs.

Before he can enjoy himself and prey on women, Dracula however is seeking revenge... Revenge on the man who captured him and kept him locked away for so very long. And what better way to retaliate than going after his captor's daughter?

Mary Van Helsing, Mathew's only daughter and the latest victim of Dracula's power of seduction and infiltrating one's mind.

She has seen him in her dreams and sometimes even while she is awake. Never knowing to fear the man inside of her dreams, being that each time he comes to her... he is charming, gentle, and even trustworthy.

Little does she know his charisma is all part of the deception. Her life is in jeopardy and now that he has awakened, her dreams are soon to become reality.

As Dracula walks the streets of New Orleans searching for Mary, he is nearly shocked to see the differences in today's women. Shorts as tiny as underwear, blouses as tiny as bras, and daring red lips on faces full of makeup.

Although the sight makes him aroused, he recognizes that the women who dressed like this were once seen as easy. Dracula isn't interested in seducing women that are whores, he enjoys the challenge... The challenge of virtuous women that he is used to seeing when he was awake and roaming the world in the early 1900s. Women who dressed head to toe in long gowns, refusing seduction however would always fail, falling in the arms of Dracula.

Unimpressed with the scantly dressed of Bourbon Street, Dracula feels that maybe his adventures this time will be strictly business... No seductive fun after all, just revenge.

Being that MardiGras is currently being celebrated, the extremely old school vampire decides to leave the racket of loud music and crowded streets behind as he makes his way through the woods, swamp areas, and backroads.

Now in the quiet peace of Louisiana's countryside, he brainstorms his plans that he has for the young and innocent Mary Van Helsing.

He plans to seduce her into sweet sex. He will then have her drink his blood and take her life in a blink of an eye. She will then not only become a vampire, but because of his blood in her system, Mary will be forever attached... Forever linked to the vampire who made her this way, and forever his servant.

During Dracula's walk, he begins to hear the soothing sounds of a lake. He peers through the trees, following the sounds as he longs for the missed breath of nature's fresh air.

He finds this lake, silently enjoying the wind off of its small currents and deeply inhaling its beauty, and then exhaling.

Noticing a bridge that crosses over the beautiful lake, Dracula meets the eyes of the prettiest woman he has ever laid eyes on.

...

"Wow."His breath hitches in his throat, being immediately taken in awe of her presence.

The girl swings her feet off of the side of the bridge as she sits on the bridge's concrete and watches the tiny ripples of water beneath her.

Her hair large and full of black curls, eyes brown, and lips plump... perfectly kissable. But what makes his heart pace the most, is her skin. Tawny and made of silk, however marbled in spots of peach, like the finest China you'd ever see.

Dracula however also notices the sadness in her eyes. Although being at least a hundred-feet apart, he still can see the tears that bubble in her mysteriously dark eyes.

Within a blink of an eye, she jumps...

A suicide attempt.

Dracula wouldn't be himself if he didn't pursue after a woman that caught his eye the way that she did... So just for a moment, Dracula switches his nature from a villain to the hero.

Jumping into the lake, Dracula swims to her, finding her near the bottom of the swampy lake.

Wrapping his arms around her waist feels too perfect for him. Almost like the fitting of the last two pieces of an extremely complicated puzzle.

His determination to save her kicks into high drive.

Although he has many plans of seducing her and keeping her chained to him, at the moment he'd be satisfied with just hearing the sweet voice that will escape her perfect pout when she breathes again.

The two resurface and he swims her lifeless body unto the bank.

Laying perfectly still, the girl doesn't have much life in her. Like sleeping beauty, it's evident that she's inhaled too much water.

Her beauty, so very enamoring and overwhelming, Dracula even hesitates to approach her.

"Magnificent." He coos.

Pressing his strong palms onto her chest and stomach, he begins to pump water out of the girl, watching it pour out of her mouth and down her face.

Hearing her gently cough as she regains consciousness is relieving. However, her wet skin is enticing... Dracula already knows that she will become his, so why wait?

His fingers grace across the vitiligo that perfectly stains her skin as his thumb traces her plush lips and deep onto the bed of her tongue.

Her mouth, so warm... Dracula immediately groans.

The girl's blouse is soaked and as her chest rises and falls with each breath, he can't help but notice her top unbuttoned and revealing the fullness of her breasts and perky brown nipples.

His pale lips press against her neck as his hands gently cup and dimple her breasts. Her skin blushes, drawing warm blood back into her, and damn does it smell good to him.

He wants to drink her blood dry, but he wants to fuck her much more.

Although her eyes are still closed as she finds her way back into consciousness, the girl begins to purr underneath his touch as her malleable tits writhe with goosebumps beneath him.

He smiles, whispering gently against her tiny breaths. "Sweet little kitten. That must feel so good to you, yeah?"

Pressing a kiss onto her lips, Dracula moves down her body into taking her full breasts into his mouth... inhaling and sucking ruthlessly on her flesh.

His fang draws light blood with a nip to her hardened bud. The pleasurable pain makes her gasp, body gently bucking beneath him.

Her eyes slightly peak open and Dracula's immediate seduction calms her worry...

His cock begins to ache in its tight confinements. "Should I continue?"

She hesitates, unsure of why she wants to nod yes, but she does it anyway.

Satisfied with her submissive answer, Dracula immediately drips with his first bead of precum of this century. "Good girl." Grunting out gentle groans, he continues to seduce.

His talon like nail reaches beneath her skirt. He scratches her like a knife from her thigh up to her fabric covered cunt before cutting the lace panty off of her with just a flick of his nail.

Using the soft bed of his palm and fingertips, Dracula's hand dampens as he rubs her plumped cunt until her hips begin to buck.

She gulps. "I-I'm so tired."

Her sweet tone forces him to release his hard cock before it tears out of his zipper. "And that's why you must let me take care of you. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Dovie." Her sweet voice is barely audible.

"Dovie..." Dracula repeats. "The dove... a symbol of peace, innocence, and beauty. Your name is fitting my love.Dovie, I have been needing you."

He leans furthermore against her, beginning to slide his erection back and forth against her slickness. His hands hold tightly onto her hips, waiting patiently for the perfect time to stretch her with his aching cock.

"Hey!" A woman on a walk around the lake with her dog intervenes... "What the hell are you doing to her?"

He ignores her, overly enamored with his newest love.

"I'll call the cops asshole!" The woman refuses to move on. "Step away from the girl!"

Dracula becomes annoyed. He attacks the woman at the speed of lightning.

As he scratches the woman and draws blood from her neck, his seduction is interrupted and taken away from Dovie.

Dovie sits up in the grass, half nude and confused. She gasps as she takes notice to the man she was just enamored with as he threatens to take a woman's life.

"Just say the word, Dovie." A handsome yet dangerous grin appears across Dracula's face. "Say the world and I'll drain her of her every drop of blood."

Fright fills Dovie like hot lava. "What?— NO DON'T!!" She shouts.

...

He clicks his tongue with taunt. "Tsk tsk tsk, wrong word Dovie."

Dracula's fangs latch onto the woman's throat as he empties her body like a juice box. He tosses her into the lake as if she weighed as much as a feather, letting a Louisiana crocodile chomp on her for a Saturday brunch...

Dovie screams in terror, she tries to get up from the grass however her wet sneakers cause her to slip, making her tired frame fall back to the ground.

By time she gets herself back onto her knees, she feels a hand on the back of her skirt, refusing to let her run.

Dracula forces her still with hands gripped around her waist, he kicks her knees wider apart and she becomes frightened feeling the air beneath her skirt where she is clearly bare. Settling himself behind her, Dracula feasts on her fear. Rubbing his even more aroused cock quicker through her pussy lips.

Dovie cries, trying her best not to become so wet for him even though her body has already been conditioned to his touch. She attempts to pry his fingers from her waist, however all it does is force his hands higher... Higher to the point of rolling her hardened nipples through his fingers and making her squeal with unwanted arousal.

The lake is so empty... Calling for help is a waste of time being that the only one who will hear her is the woman's dog running away and dragging its leash.

Her fear overpowers Dracula's seduction, making him having to kick it into high gear. Dracula bites his wrist, forcing the girl to drink his blood. With his blood inside of her, the worry will pass and only obsession will be left. She will be his until it fades out of her system.

Fighting the wrist against her mouth, the first drop of his blood is all she needs before wanting to hold onto him and drink him empty.

What seems to be the finest red wine oozing down her throat, Dovie's eyes roll back into her head. She continues to drink from his wrist and intwines her fingers with his as he allows it.

Her sweet nature is so intoxicating... His baby.Wanting to hold his hand as he feeds her his blood.

The sensation becomes too much for him. As Dovie drinks, becoming more obsessed with him, she arches her back... beginning to tease him as she glides her wet pussy on the shaft of his cock, even pressing his tip into her tight entry as she taunts him.

Dracula's breath is caught into his throat as he fights the urge to release.

He loses.

His throbbing tip releases a load of cum. Jerking forward each time his nut spickets out of him. He watches her pretty brown skin covered in his milky glaze, nearly falling in love as he watches the girl finger it inside of her.

Becoming dizzy, he realizes how long she's been drinking from his wrist... far too long.

He snatches his wrist from her and the girl immediately pleads for more. "Please! I-I wasn't done!"

"Trust me, you were." He gulps, watching his wound slowly heal. "Dovie, how are you feeling now?"

"I feel incredible!" She falls back into the pillow of grass, unworried about the fact that she's soaked from her suicide attempt of jumping off of a bridge.

Dracula became the way that he is from his suicide many moons ago. He hung himself, and for that sin, the good Lord cursed him with immortality as the beast that he is today.

Suicide has a special place in his heart, he absolutely hates that a pretty girl like Dovie was sad enough to take her own life. No one ever deserves that very last feeling a person gets before deciding to commit suicide... A feeling of being so alone and at an all time low.

"Why did you jump off of that bridge, Dovie?" Full with confusion, Dracula asks the question he was curious about all along.

"Oh.." Her smile fades.

She shrugs. "Honestly...Because life just isn't what it's made out to be. Like in literature, or films, and celebrities. It's nothing like it. Reality is being twenty-four, having student loan debt, a nonexistent love life, and a job that pays less than eight-fifty an hour. I just... didn't have a reason to live... I just felt, tired."

"Hey!" She begins to smile again. "Ya know what? I never got your name!"

"I need to know it if I plan on screaming it all night."Dovie pushes Dracula onto his back as she crawls over him and sits unto his lap. Although he's already zipped up, he almost takes his cock out again as Dovie grinds her bare cunt into his crotch.

"Vlad Dracula, but Dracula is just fine." He instantly stops her hips. "Dovie, when you say nonexistent love life, what do you mean?"

"Hmm, let's see..." She sarcastically teases. "A loser virgin! Duh!"

Mmm.

A virgin.

Could she get any sweeter?

Dracula instantly feels the need to make her forever his, but if he does that... it wouldn't help her situation very much.

What the girl needs, is the opportunity to live.

He knows that he's here in New Orleans for one thing... But, what can he do when he runs into a damsel in distress as pretty as Dovie?

He decides to momentarily put his Van Helsing revenge on hold, now that something much more important has come up.

His newest mission: Give Dovie Larson the life that she'd quite literally kill to have.

Romance, fun, wealth, and whatever the depressed girl's heart desires.

——————

Stopping first at a shopping mall, Dracula thinks that maybe the girl would enjoy dressing like the other women he has come across today. Scantly, however intoxicatingly delicious.

With a body like Dovie's, he is sure the world will soon stand at attention as they admire her beauty. She deserves to see herself as something beautiful, not 'a loser virgin.'

Holding each other's hand as they walk through the store, Dracula still manages to draw attention from his overpowering charm and power of seduction.

"How do you do that?" Dovie perks a curious brow.

"Do what?" He chuckles.

Dovie being territorial, rolls her eyes at the gawking women in pure jealousy. "How do you make every woman, young or old, stare at you like that?"

He hasn't a reason to lie... "Don't let your thoughts deceive your eyes... You know exactly what you saw. I am a vampire Dovie, my powers are to charm and to seduce in order to kill."

She freezes in her path. Dracula sighs, patiently awaiting for her to freak out, hate him, and even storm off..

"I know what I saw." She begins. "I know what you are. But I don't believe in your charm and seduction... Are you saying that that's what you have done to me? Is that why I love you?"

Dracula chuckles, sucking his teeth trying to control his growing feelings for the cute girl.

"You love me." He repeats. "Sweet girl, that's only the obsession talking. You barely know me Dovie, but it's okay. It's still nice to hear sometimes, even for an old decrepit blood sucker like myself. But you don't love me dear, however maybe you will after all of this fun we will have today, yeah?"

She blushes. "Yeah."

The two search for overpriced dresses and outfits that Dovie will feel her best in. At one point so obsessed with him, the girl began to beg for his sex in the fitting room.

Dracula becomes even more amused with his powers. His ability to seduce at an all time high the older that he gets.

The older the wine, the better. Right?

But their sex will have to wait, the girl needs to see that there's more to life than bills and depression.

After modeling a few outfits for Dracula, his temptation gets the best of him as he begins to gently treat her body like royalty...

He loves every inch of this girl... The poor old man can hardly take his hands off of her.

Dovie struts around the dressing room in a gothic blood-red and black lingerie set and instantly sets fire in Dracula's loins.

"Perfection." He kisses her skin gently, leaving hickies at her neck and even on the plushness of her breasts and behind. Her skin tastes heavenly.

As Dovie grins, a heartwarming smile of perfectly white teeth, he yearns for her even more.

She coddles his strong arms as they caress her body and she accepts every kiss that he gives. "Is this something we can have forever?"

Dracula's compulsion on women usually has them at his feet like a loyal dog, never has he felt the literal romance that Dovie continues to drown him in.

He gulps. "If that's what you want Dovie."

She smiles. "It is."

Dracula and Dovie head towards the cash register where he begins to show her another of his powers. With just a look in his eyes, he can compel whatever he wants out of any living soul.

The young cashier pops his chewing gum as he rocks out to the music in his headphones, he hardly even looks at them as he continues to scan each of Dovie's new pieces of clothing. "That'll be $1,300."

"You have such nice eyes young man." Dracula persuades. "Can I see them?"

"Yeah dude!" The cashier laughs. "They say I get them from my granddad—"

Dracula immediately compels him through the eye contact.

"Tony." Dracula reads the cashier's name tag as the compulsion keeps him in a still hold. "These clothes... they are free today."

"Yes." The boy almost sounds zombie like. "The clothes are free today."

Dracula grins. "Very good."

Impressed with Dracula's powers, Dovie can't believe all of the expensive designer clothes that they walk out of the store with, her smile is never ending.

"Dracula, you've done so much for me!" She begins. "What can I do for you?"

"Hmm." He begins to ponder. "Well I am quite hungry..."

Dovie begins in excitement. "Perfect! I know this Burger place that is half off during MardiGras—"

"Not for burgers, my dear." He chuckles, gently placing a kiss to the back of her knuckles.

"Oh..." She gulps. "That's right, sorry, I forgot. You're hungry for human blood."

Dracula nods.

She smiles. "Luckily I know just the place for that too!"

————

The compelling doesn't end at the shopping mall, it continues to the Lavrone Palace, the swankiest and most expensive hotel in Louisiana.

Dracula compels his way through the front desk, scoring him and his newest lover the biggest suite the hotel has to offer.

The room... so dark and mysteriously gothic, Dracula feels immediately at home.

"Now this— this is way better than a steel coffin." He stretches his old and tired body onto the suite's mattress.

"Would you just look at this place!?" Dovie squeals. "It's absolutely stunning!"

She takes her shopping bags of a brand new wardrobe into the bathroom, singing with joy and excitement.

Dracula begins to smile.

Just this morning, the girl was taking her own life. Now she is seeing every reason why she shouldn't have.

"Dracula?" Dovie's voice becomes muffled on the other side of the door.

"Yes Dovie?" Dracula yawns, stretching his popping joints on the comforts of the hotel's decorative pillows.

"Just curious..." She begins. "With your blood in me, are we like... connected?"

Dracula grins over her curiosity. "Yes dear. Almost as if we were one. I feel your presence, as much as you feel mine."

He begins to feel aroused, reminiscing on the way that she looked in her lingerie today at the mall. "Dovie my dear, come back out here. Let me see that little red number you wore for me in the dressing room."

She doesn't answer...

"Dovie?" Becoming worried Dracula continues to call for her.

He gets up from his comfortable lounging, slowly opening the creaky bathroom door... Dovie is long gone, and a window swings wide opened...

He sighs in annoyance.

He often forgets the other attributes of receiving his blood. Although his victim becomes infatuated with him, they also have a sense of adventure and exhilaration.

Dovie's burst of energy has her playing games, wanting Dracula to find her with his sense of connection.

Tired and hungry, the vampire rolls his eyes in aggravation, soon following after the girl with his heightened sense of smell.

Through the streets of New Orleans, Dracula closes his eyes and attempts to follow his instincts.

His senses directs him into a night club. Just opening for the evening as night falls, Dracula pays his door fair and soon finds himself in a packed club full potential victims and blaring House Music.

(A/N: play for throwback club aesthetics😙)

Strobe lights aggravate Dracula's sensitive eyes and per usual, the women can't keep their eyes off of him. But, he isn't interested in any of them, only wanting to find his lover and get out of the treacherous dance club.

He senses Dovie... But she isn't anywhere to be found...

Nearly giving up on searching for her, his eyes immediately meet with hers as she struts down the staircase, coming from the second floor.

Her beauty demands everyone's attention and as beautiful as she looks, she deserves it all.

The song even heightens her strong presence. "Be my lover. Won't you be my lover?"

"Hello handsome." Dovie flirts, twisting Dracula's heart in one of her brand new outfits. "You found me after all."

"I told you I would." Dracula gulps. "Dovie, don't leave again."

She smiles. "You missed me? It's okay. I have a surprise for you, and then we will spend the night dancing."

"Dancing?" Dracula laughs. "The last dancing I've done was in 1920, I had just learned the Charleston, and now I'm guessing that's long out of style."

Dovie chuckles as she places a gentle kiss onto Dracula's lips. "We will have to work on it... But first, come with me."

Dracula takes Dovie's hand as she leads him upstairs. The twisting of her hips infront of him puts his head on dizzy swivel.

"Dracula." She begins. "I'd like you to meet my new friend, Ashley. I told her about my handsome boyfriend that was dying to meet her."

"Hi." Ashley begins to blush, already succumbing to Dracula's charm and seduction. "Dovie here told me her boyfriend was handsome, but you... you are extraordinary. There is a private room down the hall, are you guys up to a threesome?"

Dracula hovers over the girl, he smells the warm blood flowing through her neck and kisses where he plans to puncture her skin.

"What do you say Dovie?" He manages to ask within a devious smirk. "Up to a threesome my love?

Dovie knows not to feel jealous being that Dracula's pure intentions is to drink the stranger dry.

She nods. "I'm right behind you baby."

Into the private room, Dracula locks the door behind his ladies.

He cant seem to take his eyes from Dovie as her new found confidence is breathtaking. She sits on the couch, popping a bottle of chilled champagne as she pours herself a glass.

Dovie crosses her silky brown legs, letting the long slit of her dress tease at the opened flesh of her thighs. She waits patiently for the show, not realizing that the real show, is her.

With focus completely on Dovie, Dracula hardly even notices Ashley latched onto his body as her lipstick leaves stains of kisses on his skin.

As Ashley's hand moves into his pants, Dovie becomes annoyed.

She rolls her eyes, swirling her expensive champagne in her glass. "Foods getting cold, Drac."

Her jealous sass turns him on, forcing a grin at the corners of his lips.

"Yes baby, then I'll make haste." Dracula tears the clothes from the girl's body with his sharpened nail.

Ashley gets pleasure from it. Orgasming from the force and expecting a night of insane sex.

"Ohh pretty Dove?"The girl swoons, singing as she chuckles. "Why don't you join us?"

Dovie shrugs. "I think I'll watch, wouldn't want my new dress to get messy."

"Mmm." Ashley coos, arching her back as Dracula drags a welting scratch down her body with his fingernail. "So take it off."

He pierces the girl's skin. Groaning from the taste of her blood as he licks it off at the tip of his finger.

Ashley gasps, beginning to giggle in drunken laughter. "Kinky! Be easy with me okay?"

"Yes..." Dracula lies. "Easy."

Ashley's eyes grow in shock as his fangs protrude and eyes redden as he tears into her jugular... far too late to scream.

Her body goes limp as the blood splatters on each wall of the room.

Dracula continues to drink... Gulping and feasting on a girl who never expected her life to end tonight.

Finishing his meal, Dracula drops the pale and completely drained corpse to the ground, wiping his mouth to rid his leftovers from his face.

Out of breath, he pants... Satisfied and gently groaning as his cock enlarges and tightens his pants.

"Shall we go dancing now?" Dovie questions.

Dracula has other plans...

He takes the mostly full bottle of champagne, throwing it with all of his force as he shatters the glass window.

"No dancing." He takes Dovie's hand. "Just fucking."

Horny and impatient, Dracula refuses the stairs. He wraps his arms around Dovie's waist and introduces her to another of his powers, the ability to fly.

When Dracula is in his form of a bat, he's able to fly with his black leathery wings. However in the form of a man, he glides through the air with impossibly large jumps.

He takes Dovie to the roof of the nightclub. Forcing her eyes open, he promises that when she's in his arms she'll always be safe.

With eyes wide open, Dovie watches as they soar together rooftop to rooftop. The wind through her curls is perfect, and Dracula was right, in his arms... she feels more than safe.

Reaching the roof of their hotel, Dracula and Dovie enter their opened window as the romance begins.

Lips against each other, their kiss is lewd and sinful. They strip each other of their clothes and obsess over each of their bodies.

Strong arms and a plumped-lengthy cock eager to split her open, and a soft curvy body that has never had its cherry popped.

The air is thick and overwhelmingly hot.

Dracula's power to seduce is nothing compared to Dovie's natural power. She's undeniably perfect.

He can't believe it... A woman who cared enough to sacrifice a life for him to feed... He's never had a woman to care for him in his entire life.

Is it possible to find true love within a day?

His tongue glides up her body. Sliding from tongue kisses on her dripping cunt to leaving a trail up her smooth belly and to her puffy areolas and hardened nipples.

Dracula grabs her by the throat. Not to choke her, just to kiss her so deeply that she'd forget whose air she was breathing.

Spreading her legs further apart, he begins to pump his erection into her tight entry. Only his bulbous head penetrating her, however they both near a climax.

Before it's too late, he goes for it... Plummeting his cock into the tight tunnel of her insides, he loses his breath in unbelievable shock of how fantastic she feels.

Light pink blood begins to cover his member mixed with her nectar... How fucking perfect? Two of his favorite things, blood and pussy.

His thumb circles her throbbing clit until she begs him to stop, he doesn't. He grabs her wrists above her head, continuing to torture her pretty little pink cunt until she trembles with orgasm. "Dracula, have mercy!"

"Fuck me Dovie." Switching positions, Dracula lays on his back as the cutie rides for her first time.

Slowly sitting on the aching eight inches of his girthy cock, Dovie hisses and bites her lip as she takes it all.

Eyes rolling back in pure pleasure and ecstasy, Dracula groans as he watches Dovie's pussy stretch around his erection, taking it so far until the tummy bulge coming through her belly is evident.

He grabs her hips and directs how he wants to be fucked, precum already beetling out each time she bucks against him.

The sounds of lewd skin slapping together, has never sounded so good. Dracula's obsession for the girl is overwhelming, wanting to die in this pussy if he had to.

Her purrs are so enticing. Squealing angelic whimpers through the pleasurable pain, obediently submitting to whatever he wants.

Enamored by the bouncing of her flesh, Dracula cups her breasts and runs his fingers all throughout her body. Feeling his cum erupting, he stills Dovie's body onto his lap, forcing his every inch against her cervix as her sopping wet cunt soaks his balls.

Snatching her by the back of her neck, Dracula tongue kisses her. They both watch as his drilling cock slows to a finish and she gushes his hot seed from her tiny battered hole.

His mind fills with thoughts that he begins to share as Dovie sweetly continues to ride him soft.

"You and me, forever." He gulps, gently heaving tired yet overly stimulated breaths. "This everyday, every second. I need this.You and I can rule the world Dovie. Just close your eyes, with my blood in you, you'll wake up and we can be together forever. I'm in love with you... I now see that the only reason for coming to New Orleans was the universe bringing me to you, nothing else."

Dracula cups her face, staring into her large brown eyes with pure infatuation. "The same way that you brought me Ashley... You will bring me more, my sweet girl. Our next victim, a college girl Mary Van Helsing is her name... you will bring her to me."

....

Dovie quietly begins to redress and pack.

So full of himself and high off of the love they made, Dracula lays back into the red silk sheets imagining what else the two of them can do in an immortal life together.

"Dovie?" He finally begins to question her silence.

"No, Dracula... I can't." Dovie disagrees with his plans.

He immediately frowns... If she's able to resist him, his blood has worn out of her system.

"How long have you been off of my blood?" Feeling bamboozled, his tone darkens.

"Since the club." She admits.

"Then why'd you come back here with me? Why did you fake all of that?" He snaps.

"I faked nothing." Dovie explains, whilst her shopping bags in hand. "Can't you believe that a woman would still sleep with you without your compulsion? Dracula, I have had the most wonderful day with you. So much joy, that I actually want to continue to live. Our sex was only something that I could dream of having before today! But, I can't be what you want me to be..."

"But you've already done it?" Nearly wanting to drop to his knees and beg her to stay, he attempts to convince her to be his forever. "With Ashley? You fed me, you must love me as much as I love you?"

She smiles. "I do! I will love you forever for being the man who saved my life! Isn't this what you wanted? For me to change my mind about suicide?"

It is what he wanted... But is it a shame that now he wants more?

So tempted to grab her and force his blood back into her mouth, he just can't do it. He's never felt like this for anyone in his thousands of years of living. Even with all the evil he's done in life, harming Dovie Larson, won't be one of them.

"I'm not a killer." Dovie continues. "I can't continue to bring you victims because the reason that I gave you Ashley, was because she deserved it. Before you found me, I watched this woman drugging women's drinks at the bar... When they began to get sleepy, she continued to bring them upstairs to her private room and assault them. I decided that the world is better off without people like her. So, I hit on her, told her that you and I wanted to have some fun with her... and then you took her life, as she deserved. I don't regret it, but I don't plan on making it a habit."

She's become so strong. His hypnosis long over with and faded, now that she has finally found her own will to live.

Dracula although heartbroken, he is proud.

"Well, where will you go?" His eyebrows furrow, worried that he will never see the love of his life again.

Flashing her heartmelting thousand-watt smile once more, Dovie gives him a final kiss on his lips. "Home."

He watches the girl leave... Strutting like a reborn superstar, Dovie leaves their suite with her bags of luxury clothes. She gives off an aura of immense confidence and joy... it makes Dracula smile.

Soaring out of the window, onto the hotel's window ledge, Dracula watches Dovie catch a taxi and soon forever leaves his view.

With his blood out of her system, he has no way of tracking her... she's just, gone.

They both will never forget each other.

Dracula wished to show the beautiful and innocent girl how to live, what he didn't realize, is that she had done the very same for him.

[stealingpotatoes]

Invitation to talk about Sayuri and Nymie?

:D CAN OF WORMS: OPENED!! i'll tell u abt how they got found as Jedi

ok so Sayuri is one of the students that doesn't rlly go home bc there isn't much to go back to. Basically her parents were Rebellion pilots (or one was a pilot the other a mechanic. kinda unsure) but were both killed in action against the Empire abt 3-4ABY ish. obvs the Rebellion couldn't look after a 7-8yo while fighting the Empire

so the remainder of the squad manage to get her back to her parents' home village/ where she was born. so having like Everything change all at once leaves her pretty ?? and gives her some serious trusting-her-environment issues. her coolgirl "i dont care" persona is very much a result of this bc she's worried abt getting too comfy in smthn. (which is at odds w the OTHER issue she got from this event which is "deathly afraid of flying" an issue not helped if Master "traffic laws are just guidelines" Skywalker is piloting. but she tries 2 act like shes fine)

this is gonna get kinda long so im gonna smack some unposted art here and then go into a readmore

anyway fast forwarding to when Sayuri's abt 13 (roughly 9aby) she's visiting her parent's old squadron on a New Republic bc they'd all come visit whenever she could and after the Empire's fall they did a lot more pick her up and fly her to a base to ALL see her. and they're like omg Sayuri you came at the PERFECT time bc this rlly amazing pilot war hero who's also some like. mystical whatever is here!! he's on his way to some magic place we heard. maybe u can meet him!! which sayuri meets w her usual whatever bc she's not that gassed abt war heroes.

very worth noting that the squad's probably all seen her move shit with her mind, but theyre like oh you know how it is with teenage girls. the "nobody knows what a jedi is" + "the empire existed for a decent bit of her childhood" thing has kept anyone from being like yeahh sayuri should like. talk to someone abt this.

anyway she goes along when the squad are like c'mon let's see if we can see him. ok the only way i can describe this is you know the spiderverse like... spidey-sense recognition thing? that's basically what happens LOL Luke and Sayuri both have a FORCE USER RECOGNISED?? moment and Luke then makes a beeline for her then realises oh shit tiny teenager not jedi. would you LIKE to be a jedi?? and sayuri who hates her village and is feeling the strongest emotional connection she's felt in forever w this stranger she met 2 seconds ago is like okay fuckin sure yeah. and woo jedi!!

i posted my unposted nymie art yesterday but likkeeee pretend theres some here <3

So Sayuri falls into the "one of the Jedi found them thru the force or by chance" category of students who get found. However Nymie very much falls into the second category, which is "CAN SOMEONE DEAL WITH THIS WEIRD SUPERPOWERED CHILD FOR US????"

So 2 things about Nymie: 1. like i've said before, she's from a very rich high class pantoran family. super stuck up, mostly raised by nannies & tutors, but somehow Nymie just didn't get the stuck-up genes like all her (4!!) siblings who are just obsessed w their social standing etc and is instead just :D all the time. 2. her proficiency ig is the living force esp in the 'good at connecting to animals' way (which I think means I legally need to draw her w Ezra).

so the former often led her to escaping her family's stuffy parties and galas or whatever (usually to whoever's house it is' garden or somewhere she wasnt meant to be) to find something interesting. usually a pet <3 one particular time when she was 9 she was following her Pet Sense but couldnt find anything in the house. so she kinda just reached out more and long story short thats how Nymie managed to call this hugemassive beast (i'd tell u what it was if i knew pantoran animals LOL) out of the nearby countryside to her. massively distressing for everyone, all these rich ppl were like "OH MY GOD I NEARLY DIED" (it didnt attack anyone). very funny exciting time for Nymie who was enjoying this new beastie friend til animal control showed up. saddening. everyone is confused bc HOW did that happen

a dude old (and cool) enough to have seen more than one jedi in their heyday (+ idk uni researcher knows his shit) noticed what happened w it going straight to Nymie and overheard her account and realised what happened and was like hi nymie's parents. i think u need to get into contact w the new republic bc thats a jedi right there (which they take and go oo social climbing. we have a jedi child people will think we're cooler. bc theyre assholes)

and yeah im losing steam now but luke shows up and she joins the academyyay!

[angelosearch]

Happy b-day to my girl Rinoa. I wish I had fic or art ready to post today but I don't :(

All I will say is that writing in her perspective for an extended period of time, and therefore looking at her lines and behaviors over and over again, has just really made me appreciate Rinoa as a character.

A few things I love about her:

As the daughter of what we are led to believe are Galbadia's highest ranking general and one of the world's biggest celebrities, Rinoa is privileged. She comes from a position of power and wealth. She could have just lived a comfortable life but she chooses to use her knowledge and skills to help free a country from violent occupation. Doing so puts her at great personal risk, and although she may not fully understand how risky it is, it is extremely brave and righteous for her to do this. This is why I believe Rinoa is not Ultimecia - because at her core, she is someone who places her values over personal gain when she has power and influence. She can be possessed but I don't believe she corruptible (into Ultimecia, anyway).

On her bravery, we all know that Rinoa fears doing things alone. But many times in the game, she does things alone anyway. Bravery is not the absence of fear but the willingness to challenge it, and our girl challenges it all the time!

Further, she makes the active decision to rejoin the SeeDs after Irvine escorts her out of D-District prison. What I realized in writing my fic, which is an alternate timeline, is that Rinoa actually has no established reason to go to the missile base. But you can assign her to that party. And she will do it without complaint. She is risking her life, not to earn money, or to move her mission in Timber forward, or even to spend more time with Squall. She will go because she thinks it's the right thing to do, and because she wants to help Selphie, someone she has just met.

She gives people the benefit of the doubt. There is no denying that Squall is a huge jerk to her at times early game, but she is emotionally intelligent enough to realize that whatever he is projecting is not about her. And then she tries, over and over, to reach out to him. She is so patient. But also, she gives Deling the benefit of the doubt - they were trying to reason with him on the train, not even blackmail him or threaten him, but just have a conversation. She tries to not kill Edea TWICE. She tries to use the bangle to circumvent assassination and then tries to get the SeeDs to find another way to face her. She even returns to Esthar after they were hostile toward her. She believes in the good of people. Maybe that's being naive but if we were all as cynical as some other characters in this game, the world would completely fall apart.

Rinoa is always thinking. She is crafty, she comes up with interesting plans, and she can even be a bit of a schmoozer. Rinoa is only 17, and so some of this is not always executed in the best way; but I think she is extremely intelligent and creative. And, I mean, you GOTTA BE if you can teach your dog all those amazing tricks.

Don't you DARE call her a damsel in distress. She is just as much the hero of FFVIII as Squall is and YES I will die on this hill. Does she get into some pretty nasty situations? Yes. Are some of these situations caused by mistakes on her part? Absolutely. But this girl is far from helpless and goes all out to save Squall, her friends, and ALL OF TIME AND SPACE. She was willing to go to Edea by herself with a bangle that she had idea if it worked to help her friends. She was at peace with being locked away for probably the rest of her life if that meant keeping the world safe. She was willingly possessed by an evil sorceress for a second time after having a traumatic more-than-near-death experience the first time (she hadn't even experienced an Ellone dream before so imagine how scary this entire prospect was??? Like yes you need to lose your conciousness to some future bitch again and then you have to go into this other bitch's head in the past in this dreamscape you've never even been in and then yeah all of time is gonna collapse if/when you come to, you cool with that, Rinoa?). At the end of the game, she physically travels between dimensions/time/space/realities to find Squall and revive him, and then transport them back to their own reality which is obvious savior stuff. But she also saves Squall throughout the game by staying by his side, asking the right questions, listening to him, and giving him validation that, while he doesn't accept, he needs to hear. And oh yeah she fucks up Irvine to go get Squall out of prison. There's a reason they only call her "princess" once in the game - because she's NOT just a princess.

She cute as fuck js not just physically but also the things she says and her mannerisms. She's just so charming! No wonder Squall fell toss-myself-into-space in love with her! Me too tf

Tbh there are more reasons but this post is already longer than I thought it was going to be. Apparently I just have a lot of Rinoa feelings okay?! Okay.

Love you, happy birthday you absolute angel you ❤️

[lukaherehelp]

Playboyy EP3 - Sacrificing Yourself

okey had my girl dinner, I'm going in!

Just like I did last week, instead of a full commentary, we are going through some pointers, which are A LOT in this third episode.

So!

Ladies, gentlemen and nonbinary dieties, we can all take the clown makeup off, we can leave the river Denial, it was roleplay!

I swear motherfuckers I spend the whole week in distressed thinking this was for real, you assholes! You are still the cutest tho

Let's start with them, shall we?

Soong & First

We dodge the bullet of Soong being an actual psyco and jump into "problems in paradise" which FAIR, cause we've barely seen any communication between this two for this first two episodes. Mind you, it could have being off screen, this roleplay adventures had to be talked about at some point... But I feel like that was the extent of their communication.

I want to remind y'all that the Baddie Bunch is a group of young rich kids (all of them are 21), so the Playboyys are bound to have much higher street smarts and wisdom when it comes to life that the twinks. Soong, in specific, is 3 years older than First.

Why am I remarking this? Because First is clearly drunk in love with Soong but his "love" for him is purely based on them being sexually compatible. Is there anything else that they enjoy apart from rough sex? We don't know, fuck I don't even think they know!

And that's were the whole "we can have normal sex for once?!" thing comes from. Soong seems to like First back, to the point of allowing this now broke kid to stay with him even tho he can barely provide for the two of them. That's also the reason why Soong probably is taking more clients than before, even if that means spendid less time with First and paying less attention to him. First calling him a leech when First is now the leech was so ironic...

But First is so drunk on love that he cannot compute Soong not being there with him physically and mentally 24/7. Again, this kid lived in a golden cage for 21 years of his life, he thinks he knows but doesn't know shit about how real life works, even less so when you are at the lower ranks.

If they want to work out, First needs to have a reality check and grow up, learn that a relationship like the one he wants cannot be based soly on roleplay. And learn that life outside his cage is tough and requires "sacrifices".

Staying with them for another second, we need to talk about this:

Now, we are going wild. Rightfully so, this is the first hint we get that is not attached to Nont's investigation. So I wanna throw my two cents about it:

I don't think this is hinting that Soong was involved in whatever happend to Nant. You see, we have being especulating about Nant doing sex work, obviously, but I don't think he ever actually worked at Playboyy at any point. In any case, I don't think this scene hints at that.

My theory is that he probably was doing sex work in a room in the same apartment building where Soong lives. Could have being during one of the first sessions with Dog Man or maybe another client that went way too far. Either way, my two cents is that Soong probably met Nant after aiding him against a problematic client and that's why First crying in distress triggerd the memory: Nant seems like he's pleading, so maybe he thought Soong would rat him out, not knowing that Soong is also a sex worker.

He could have also asked Soong to not tell anybody about what happend, scared that his "secret life" would come out. I'm staying in that theory for now.

We don't have much about this two afterwards: Soong missing First and First being angry and heartbroken about the whole ordeal. So yeah, moving on!

Now, to the Lovebirds™

Teena & Zouey

Oh lord this was hard to watch... But let's talk about it.

Everything starts good, everything gucci. Teena is acting like a "top-tier" boyfriend see what I did there to Zouey even in front of the Baddie Bunch.

And then we get them being cute in private. You know, cuddleling, kiking about Zouey's friends where did I hear the "do you care about my friends?" line before /s. You know, boyfie behaviour... although they are not dating. Nothing wrong about that. All good.

Things start to fall apart as soon as this two sit up and Zouey goes "be my boyfriend! I'm ready to have sex now!". Oh lord.

Zouey clearly likes Teena and wants to be with him. And Teena also seems to like Zouey back. The thing is, due to the Baddie Bunch, Zouey has gotten this unspoken idea (to us) in his mind that to keep Teena, to be his boyfriend, they have to sleep together. But as much as he "thinks" he is ready, Teena and us clearly see that he is not. Teena tells him again that they don't need to have sex, that he doesn't need to "sacrifice himself" for them to be together.

But Zouey pushes through, saying that he "is in the mood", that Teena has "succeeded in making Zouey want him". Baby boy, you have been wanting this man since you first layed eyes on him, you are just cautious, which I applaud you for. But, with a second assertion from Zoueys part, we have Teena taking the lead and being sweet and slowly easing Zouey into what's about to happen:

picking him up to sit him on his lap while he kisses Zouey's temple

observing how Zouey is still cautiolsy touching him

the tiny kiss to the nose

Teena spends the whole time reasuring Zouey that he would not mock him, he knows how inexperienced Zouey is. He's making sure Zouey feels save.

Now, the downfall starts the moment Teena introduces a safe word. Which is always a good thing to have, but no to relay on solely with a first timer, buddy. also wanna point out how I kept singing red lights by skz everytime teena said red light because I'm that unserious

So, when we are "at the gates" of this taking further, hell breaks loose. Zouey asks Teena to go one step further but quickly regrets it. Now, I'm a girly that firmly believes that anything apart from a yes is a no, so Teena being a little pushy after Zouey shows discomfort already made me go nah uh buddy, but I can see where Teena is coming from...?

Zouey is freaking out, as he has done many times and is trying to make him relax again... but it doesn't work. And that's when the unfortunate phrase comes in:

" If we're going to be a couple, we'll have to do this someday. "

First of all, bullshit. You can have a serious relationship with somebody without the need of getting sexual. HOWEVER, and I can't believe I'm about to say this, I have to side with Teena here for a second.

HEAR ME OUT BEFORE THROWING STONES AT ME! Their relationship has being highly sexual from day one, period. Does that mean that the prospect of taking it all the way someday is there? It doesn't... But Zouey did start this encounter with "be my boyfriend! I'm ready to have sex now!". He's the one that put out there that if they date they will get intimate, not Teena.

Now, it wasn't fortunate from Teena's part to be "we should just do it" as if they were treating this like it was a fear to bungee jumping.

And Zouey, again, uses words that have never came from Teena's mouth (that we know of) to express his discomfort with the situation. Yes, Teena said that they didn't need to have sex if Zouey didn't want to. But Teena never said that they couldn't date because they didn't have sex. That last part, has only happend on Zoueys head. And why? Because that's what he has being hearing from the Baddie Bunch.

The scene ends with Zouey asking Teena to leave and Teena, not wanting to upset Zouey any further, going along with his request.

The last we see on the matter is Zouey and First day drinking at uni (god, I miss sneaking beers into art school lmao) while they compare their heartbreak and talk about abuse and consent. That's a whole post on its own and I still have another two couples to talk about to we closing here.

NEXT!

Keen & Captain

Lord baby jesus, we starting strong with this couple.

That "test" to join the rugby team: fuckin disgusting, I hate men. I don't care if it was for the hahas, nah uh. I'm leaving the gym. Fuck this team. But the team being homophobic... Are we surprised? Maybe is my own experience talking, but I didn't expect less from an sports team of a private university lmao

To light up this post a little, I gotta say: couples that share kinks stay together, so that in my eyes makes KeenCaptain endgame no matter the drama that the future holds for us. I'm going back to Delululand.

They are already giving me Brat Captain and I'm thriving, I signed up for this and I'm getting my moneys worth. Also this:

*fourthreactingtotheearthmixearbiteinthemoonlightchickentrailer.gif*

This sneaky little bitch is recording it and, again, are we surprised, we already knew that was going to happen. WHAT I DIDN'T EXPECT was Captain already releasing the fuckin think and hilariously backfiring on him a comedy I tell you. I fear that tape might get out of the confitment of the rugby team and get Keen, whoms both the team captain AND coach, in deep shit. However, I cannot wait to see what Captain will do with the wig and makeup he requested from Nont.

ANOTHER THING before I get into the last couple:

the gasp I gasped, y'all. Kaya, remind me this weekend to make the kiss/fuck count post, I feel like we are going to need another graphic by the end of this series.

ANYGAY, TO THE JUICE PART OF THIS MYSTERY:

Prom & Nont

Nont is slipping, bruh. To a degree and at a speed I'm starting to get stressed.

Almost getting caught by Captain when he's threatening Phop with penknife, asking for the wrong drink at the house, the accidental slap to Zouey and how not in control he is everytime he's with Prom when he clearly doesn't have ANY control on the situation. Honey, you pretty face and cunty ass is not going to work with Master, sorry to break this to you.

That being said, let's focus on the investigation:

Phop had Nant's laptop but is not truly clear to us where he got it since they got interrupted by Captain before Phop could spill the beans.

Nant was obviously doing webcam.

Now, tell me why Nont is adamant that the person that threw the laptop away was Nant's boyfriend? When did we stablished that Nant had a boyfriend? Nont fits right in into this friend group, another clueless boy that lived in a golden cage and is now seeing the darker side of the world.

the name here is Nant's btw

Here we are introduced with Nuth whom let me pull my guide real quick is described as:

Nuth dreams of becoming a sucessful film director one day, but with the lost of a family member, he has become introverted, depressed and unmotivated, making him currently unemployed. This has made him dive head first into the world of webcam. [...]

Nont, whom clearly has a modus operandi with his way of investigating, jumps right into creating his own account in the webcam site and getting in contact with Nuth after seeing that Nuth and Nant used to text throw the website.

Now, Nuth points out some of his fantasies to Nont:

" Meeting strangers, having sex with twins in a small room, the twins make out and lick all over my body, I wear a mask and I'll make them moan like a dog with the camera on. "

Sounds exactly like Dog Man, doesn't it? Way too soon to be suspicious of him tho, so I'm also putting this under the category of red herring. Nuth does panick the moment he sees Nont's face and blocks him, but I'm not speaking on that for now. Too many posibilities.

With Captain's help, Nont is able to recover the video of Nant with Dog Man and I guess he indeed gets stabbed in the video. I cannot imagine what that has to be like. Seeing something so horrible happen to someone that looks exactly like you... But I guess is not a deadly wound since Nont keeps assuming that Nant is not dead? He could be in denial, that too.

Nont, however, still in the mood to go see Master Prom and I cannot blame him and my brother keeps sliping in front of this man whom clearly knows that he's being lied too but clearly is having fun seeing Nont trip on his feet.

"You used to hate it here", "I had to convince you to come", "I thought you've changed enough to drink wine"... Prom is us, we are Prom. We sharing a braincell with this man, whom clearly is the only motherfucker holding a braincell.

god, now I want wine but I don't have any... sad

The "I can have sex in real life, why do I need to join a call?" line? Sir, I'm free anytime you want me too. I don't have any other responsibility than to please you. What can I say, I'm a simple woman.

"I'll make you moan like a dog". Yeah, I would also get triggered after so many dog references pointing at your brother's disappearance, Nont. That being said, Prom catching that Nont has become terrified and keeps making him more scared... He's making his move in this 3D chess they are playing.

This is him pushing Nont to see for how much longer he can keep the façade. But this leads into a really important frame.

I don't know the rest of y'all, but from my friends that are into heavy bdsm stuff I have learned many things and one is that all the toys, props, accessories, ropes, EVERYTHING is stored in the same place. Is more convenient that way and easier to hide from the prying eye.

So unless it got blood on it and had to be thown away, no dog mask for Prom. Neither the harness for what I can see.

we have a full face mask and I feel like that's the mask he was talking about here and in the foreplay video.

PROM IS AS MUCH OF A RED HERRING AS THAT FUCKING CABINET, I'LL DIE ON THIS HILL.

And with that being said, seems like next week we have more heartbreak but also a lot of mix-and-match and I cannot wait. See y'all next week.

Luka out!

[tea-and-secrets]

I feel horrible about this, but it's escalated to a point where this issue could destroy my life if I don't find a way to stop doing it.

So, for some reason, I get these really intense, obsessive, really disturbing fascinations with people. There's no pattern to them, no specific personality type or anything that sets it off, and I have never had more than one or maybe two per year, although they don't usually last more than a few (3-5) months. They're NOT hyperfixations. I've been hyperfixated on people before. For me, it never lasts more than 2 months (usually FAR less) and is entirely platonic, not at all violent or distressing, and doesn't make me upset in any way. I've had hyperfixations and an obsession at the same time, once I had an obsession and hyperfixated on each of his main friends within a 3 month span rapid fire style.

These obsessive feelings are like. Needing to talk to them, intrusive thoughts about hurting them, wanting to find them IRL (even if they live states away), to show up where they are, to call them at ofd hours, constantly imagining a future together, and they're always very romantic/explicit in nature. They make me feel physically ill from how gross they are. They're like nonstop intrusive thoughts of a relationship, but with this intense desire to constantly act on them and a need to be around the person all the time. And not being close to the person makes the intrusive thoughts worse.

It has never happened with someone I have actual romantic attraction to, but it happens even if I don't know them in person or we never met IRL. Usually after they fade I feel ambivalent or cold or just vaguely normal about the person. So basically after a few months of agony it sorts out and I am free usually for 8-10 months. I've never dated someone I have an obsession with. I understand them enoughto know they wouldn't mimic intrusive thoughts if they were genuinely romantic feelings. Plus, they don't last. They always fade eventually and honestly, they seriously freak me out. I don't want to have murderous intrusive thoughts when someone doesn't pick up a Skype call. That's not my idea of romantic.

Usually, I just wait for these feelings to pass, or limit contact with the person, but this time. It's so much worse.

The person is my friend, and way too young for me. He's not a minor, he's just to young for me (4 years younger, its my personal thing). He's taken, not my type, and I've always seen him as a pesky younger brother of sorts, so I never even considered this would happen. Having these feelings about him makes me feel violently ill. I've tried ignoring him and pushing him away until they stopped, but he noticed and I feel guilty punishing him for a problem that's only in my head. It isn't his fault there's something wrong with me. But I dont know what to do. If I told him about it, I'm worried he might think I like him (I don't think I do, I know how my obsessions are and it isn't love) and based on comments he's made, I'm worried he might actually try to rope me into a polycule or shoot his shot with me. Neither of those would be good places for my mental state.

I also really don't want our other friends to hear about this because I have a crush on one friend who's way older than me (we're both adults but we would NOT have gone to high school together ha ha) and I still want to hold out hope that in a few years she might see me as a viable partner (a bi can dream...) which would be jeopardized if she knew I'm basically a freak of nature.

So I need to figure out how to fix this part of me, FAST. I can't keep doing this and I'm scared things will fall apart or I'll lose it trying to fix this but I'm scared of losing everything.

I wish I could just have been born normal but I wasn't and now I have to fix it. It doesn't feel fair, and I hate it, but I want to be normal and not have to deal with this anymore. I want to just be okay, and I don't know how. I just know that normal people don't do this and this scares me. I don't want to hurt people, I don't want to be like this, and I don't know how to fix it, so I just suffered in silence for years. And now I have to fix it and don't know where to start. I just needed to tell someone about it.

.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Small Prince (Vincent/Apollo)

A belated birthday gift to @bellafarallones2 based on something we discussed on discord!

Apollo is not cut out to be an uncle. But at least he did not have to become a father. 

It happened like this: when he and his brother, Indrid, were twenty-two, they were summoned to the throne room by their father. They were not alone, which was lucky as the look in the king's eyes was the kind that seldom bode well for their wellbeing. 

“Would either of you care to explain this?” His father pointed to one of the four other people in the room, a young noblewoman holding a bundle in her arms. 

“Oh dear.” Indrid murmured as she turned the bundle to reveal the face peering out of it. 

“She claims the father was a Cold.”

“The features are unmistakably that of this house. As were those of the gentleman I met at the midsummer ball nine months ago.” The woman’s voice is not afraid, just tired. Apollo supposes she is beautiful.

Not as much as he supposes his brother holds no interest in women. And he certainly would not take someone he barely knew to bed. For starters, they could easily murder him while there, not to mention the fact that most people become attached after such things and the last thing he needs is dead weight following him about. 

He glances at his twin, meeting his eyes behind those garish red glasses he wears. They are seldom of one mind about things. Maybe if Indrid was actually sensible, they’d have agreed on something since the age of twelve. 

They agree on what must be done. 

“He is mine.” Indrid steps forward, bowing to the woman, “I apologize, both for any distress this has caused you and for the fact that I was so outside my senses I cannot recall your name.”

“Clara.” She curtsies. 

“I suppose this calls for a wed-”

“No.” Their father cuts Indrid off, “I have made plain I will not have some common noblewoman on the throne beside you when my time comes.”

Apollo smirks at the anger on Clara, her father, and her guards' faces. 

“But her father wishes to marry her off without offspring in tow. So the boy will stay here and be raised as an heir. He is, after all, of our bloodline. No one will question it if they know what is good for them.”

“Understood.” Indrid offers his arms, “I can take him.”

Clara looks down at the silk-enrobed bundle, pathetic tears in her eyes, “Goodbye, Orion. Be good for your father.”

Just over three years have passed. For the first of them Apollo never saw the brat at all; he was in the care of a nursemaid, with Indrid spending a truly confusing amount of time with him. Gradually, he’d appear in the gardens, first in Indrid’s arms or, later, toddling between him and his bulldogish brick of a knight. 

Apollo takes it as proof father likes him best that he assigned Sir Capra as his personal knight instead. Vincent is the only person who does not bore Apollo to tears or fill him with a desire to gouge their eyes out, is going grey at thirty-three in a way that he wears strikingly well. He is also, much to Apollo’s annoyance, nowhere to be found. 

Indeed, the castle seems rather empty; ah yes, there’s some silly solar eclipse. Vincent asked if he wanted the knight to accompany him to a viewing. Apollo had snorted and said he had better things to do. 

The trouble is, he has now done them. His father is not as omnipotent as he once was, but Apollo still fears being caught idle. 

Something warm closes around his legs and his hand goes for his dagger. 

“Dada!” Orion looks up from where he’s hugging Apollo’s knees.

“I am not my brother. I look nothing like him! I am far more attractive!”

“Uncle!” The word is a bit mushy in that little mouth. More worryingly, it does not cause the little leech to release him. 

“What do you want?” 

It sounded more demanding and less panicked in his head. 

“Play blocks!” 

“Then go play with the wretched things and leave me in peace!”

The boy frowns, then begins tugging on Apollo’s robe, stubby little nails tearing at the golden embroidery on the hem, “Blocks.”

“As soon as we get to them I am locking you in.” He mutters, following the urchin down the hall. He could just pull away and leave him to cry on the floor, but the noise is so horrible and he is not in the mood for a headache. 

They reach the playroom, and Apollo calls out for Vincent once, in case the knight returned early. The Capras are a large family, and the older man thinks nothing of bouncing Orion on his knee or crouching to speak with him if they cross paths in the garden. 

“Make a tower.” Orion says, more to himself than Apollo. He’s seated on the floor, surrounded by beautifully smooth, birch blocks. Apollo sits picking up a triangular one to study it; this is the same set he and Indrid played with as boys. He remembers the feel of them, the smell of opening the toy chest, wood warmed by the sun.

The playroom has changed since then. No longer drab, no longer stuffed with portraits of kings long dead. Instead, each of the four walls is painted to match a time of day; dawn, afternoon, dusk, and night. Orion’s back is to the night wall, making him look as if friendly hedgehogs are convening on him from the painted grass. 

Apollo’s heart twinges and he wills his ribs to close around it, crush it. The boy is an impediment on the way to the throne. He must not become attached to him, see him as anything more than a potential tool or bargaining chip. 

Orion is stacking rectangles haphazardly. They keep falling down after six or so block, and he’s huffing and pouting at them more each time. 

“If you want it to be taller, you must widen the base. Honestly, did my brother teach you nothing?”

Orion cocks his head,confused. 

Apollo sighs, removing his outer robe and rolling up his sleeves, “Watch closely.”

He starts with two rows of ten, then of nine, then eight, the boy gradually disappearing behind them the taller they get. When he’s hit the top rows, Orion stands and wanders around to join him, eyes wide and smile bright. 

“There. See how much more stable this is? I could make it as tall as I please using the same principle.” He glances at the boy, “why do you want it to be tall in the first place? A small stack of blocks is no impressive feat of engineering.”

“Dragon.”

“Excuse me?”

Orion picks up a stuffed dragon from the floor and lets out a piercing yell as he rams it into the tower. The bricks fall in a clatter, the boy laughing uproariously the whole time.

Apollo wants to be furious. As it is he is confused, first by the action and then by the emotion it stirs in him. 

He remembers taking turns with Indrid to knock the blocks down, the two of them seeing if a troll at the bottom or dragon at the top made the bigger disaster. 

“Again!” Orion claps his hands together. 

“You really are a little monster, aren’t you.” Apollo mutters, but does not feel the venom he meant to put into the words. 

Orion drums his hands on his knees and then crawls over to watch the construction. Apollo widens the base more, making the structure more a true pyramid. 

“There, it would take you a siege engine to destroy that.” 

His nephew accepts the challenge, ramming the dragon into it and sending the blocks cascading once more. 

“Again!”

“Very well. But this time, you must assist me.”

The eclipse comes and goes and neither of them notice it, moving from destroying the towers many times over to seeing if they can build a fortress for the conquering dragon out of the wreckage. 

Apollo figures that is teaching the boy the realities of war, in case any asks him why he was wasting his time in such pursuit.s 

Footfalls hurry down the tiled hallway and the door flies open. Indrid stands in it, his knight behind him. 

“Oh thank goodness.”

“Dada!” Orion runs as fast as little legs allow and hugs first Indrid, then Duck. 

“I am so sorry my treasured one, there was a mix up and no one came to watch you.”

“Yes” Apollo stands, draping his robe over his arm, “the foolish child though I was you and waylaid me when I was looking for Vincent.”

“If you laid so much as a finger on him-” Indrid bites. 

“Dragon attacked the castle!” Orion yells gleefully, then turns to Apollo, making grabbing hands in the hair, “up? I dragon now?”

“It…seems you got along.” His brother still looks ready to break his fingers, which would be admirable were it not unnecessary. 

“Indeed. I taught him the finer points of defense construction. Now that you have returned, I can turn my attention to more important things.” 

Indrid scoops the boy into his arms, “Thank you. For watching him.”

Apollo turns, pulling on his robe, “Just do not expect me too again.”

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

He’s not sulking. Sulking is what one does when one is upset, and Apollo is not upset. Vincent being out on a date with someone from the city does not upset him in the slightest. 

A stuffed dragon lands on his face and he growls, whipping his head to the side.

Orion, on tip toe, is peering at him over the edge of the bed. 

“Play dragons?” The boy seems to sense his mood and is already looking like he regrets throwing the toy onto him. 

He picks it up. It would be pleasant to rip the head off. 

Then again, perhaps his nephew will let him take a turn as the beast, and he can knock some blocks over himself. That would be supremely satisfying. 

“Yes, let us shore up our defenses once more.”

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

After that, the boy seeks him out nearly daily, slipping from under the watchful eye of knights and nannies to demand Apollo enable his dragon-based havoc. 

He learns that “Be dragon” means Orion wants him to lay on his back and balance him on his feet, holding his hands as needed so he can pretend he is flying. He decides to use the moments to discuss the finer points of offensive attacks, as well as taking an enemy by surprise. He doubts the boy takes much in, too busy giggling and roaring, but surely no one will think twice about once prince preparing another to lead armies. 

One day, he finds his nephew has been given a small, felt sword. This results in Apollo being given the dragon toy, then chased about the room by the small knight. When he is caught, he takes to falling about dramatically, bemoaning his fate, cursing his luck. Orion thinks it is hilarious. 

“Now” he says after a particularly drawn-out death scene, his eyes still closed, “you must remember, little drake, to check that your enemies are thoroughly vanquished. Indeed, your great great great great grandfather was brought low when his enemy faked his death andAH” 

Orion’s means of checking whether he’s dead turns out to be hurling his whole body onto Apollo’s torso and hugging him. He’s laughing as he does. Apollo puts his arms around him, laughing as well. 

The truth is not often an easy thing to handle. His father insists it is often the harshest things that are true. 

Apollo knows two of them at once.

One: Orion is now the second person other than himself he would truly die for. 

Two: he will never harm this boy. Even if Apollo tries for the throne, he will find some other way. 

The door creaks open and he sits up, Orion still in his arms. 

“Hello your highness” Vincent smiles at Orion, “and your other highness.”

“You saw nothing.” He cannot bear the thought of someone like Vincent thinking him soft, thinking him weak.

“If you insist. But I must say, that is a pity. If I saw what I thought I did, it made me happy to see.”

“Ah.” Apollo looks at his nephew as the boy waves at Vincent. 

“Indeed, since his father and knight are at a function, and his night attendant is delayed, I was coming to offer to read him a story until bed.”

Orion shrieks in excitement and hurries toward the bedroom. It takes some coaxing and bargaining to get him to change into his pajamas, but the two of them–if he’s honest, mostly Vincent–get him settled into bed. 

He should leave, but when Vincent pats the space on the other side of him, he sits down on the soft, butterfly-patterned comforter, shoulder to shoulder with his knight. 

Apollo is not cut out to be an uncle. But he’s certainly starting to enjoy it.

[jorrated]

Some super stray thoughts I had while reading STCO so far:

Knuckles would NOT prioritize his past over Tikal’s suffering are you crazy in the head!!!!

Zak Simond-Hurn’s art is really charming, if it wasn't for the digital onomatopoeias, I wouldn’t mind having this style by a base for an official sonic comic! The design for the red echidna villain however… HM. Not pleasing to the eye.

I like that Ebony are having a bigger role on the fist few issues! But also Ebony’s constantly referring to Super as his friend and doing things to bring him back. Like I get it but also is this going to be her only trait now? Girl…

And porker is going on adventures again. Actually I don’t think they ever explained why Porker went back to being more adventurous in the og comic, participating in Chaos defeat and all. Not against it, and I like to see he still has a bit of bite and wasn't reduced to only a coward, tho it would’ve been cool to see at least a comment on how hes back on “adventuring”.

It’s cool to see Amy dealing with grief over Jhonny (I’ve given up trying to write his name correctly, too weird for me), but IDK. Amy probably was the best grounded character in that situation, so it feels weird to see her distressed over it? I don’t know how to explain it but in my eyes, Amy’s grief for Jhonny would definitively be more melancholic than scary/guilty. I’m glad they are trying to flesh out Amy more, but it doesn’t feel very cohesive with the comic to me. And Jhonny-zombie the killer… a bit tacky but in a funny way.

WHO…. Designed Vichama. I just want to talk. Tell me why you made him look that way. What is that. What went through your head. Dude. I get that Ebony has considerably more anthro body features than the other animal characters, but I feel like Vichama crosses the line into the “gross valley”. If he were drawn closer to how Zachary is I probably wouldn’t care, he probs would’ve looked like an Archie character. But the bulging muscles are kinda upsetting to look at. Cover up man.

So Shadow was created by some enemies of the echidnas. Noted.

Big and the Drakon prosecutor are actually really cute. I like them. Knuckles trying to break Ebony’s spell on Tikal is making me fume. HE WOULDN'T TRY TO DO THAT!!!!! He maybe would be a little desperate trying to trigger some memories but he wouldn't knowingly hurt someone to get information!!!! There is a pannel tho in this part of the comic that makes Knux ask “Where is Porker” and then “Where is the emeralds”. THAT is Knuckles to me, checking in on people before anything else.

Knuckles not being able to carry Big is bullshit. KNUCKLES PUNCHES ROCKS IN HALF LMAO. It’s fine I assume they need to be separated for a reason.

ROUGE STICK LEGS. Somebody please give my girl a double cheeseburger with extra fries and a big gulp of soda.

Actually I love that Rouge is a cunt here. Girlboss!!!! Stole this dudes emeralds AND left them to die, queen shit. Didn’t work but she did have the intent to kill them.

Big wouldn’t eat his friends….. He’d never eat Froggy, and DP (Drakon Prosecutor) even tho looks like a fish, Big considers a friend. BIG WOULDNT THINK ABOUT EATING HIS FRIENDS!!! HE IS A KIND BIG GUY!!!!!!!!!!!! ← most egregious mistake until now. Fucking funny tho can you imagine dying by vore They kept Mighty funny, that’s good.

MMMMN. I like that Sonic is consistently arachnophobic. Really nice continuity. How he first met Shadow tho… It felt underwhelming? Like yeah we know they were going to meet some time but IDK. The framing/pacing is weird to me. Either have them meet quickly at the start of the issue and Sonic is like “IDK WHO that guy is but I don’t like him!!!” or have them meet at the end of the issue, but only show Shadow in shadow (lol) to hook to the next issue. Shadow’s bland ass “I am Shadow” has the same energy as two kindergartners introducing themselves first day of school.

Shadow’s personality is interesting tho. I like him being a bit cocky but not too much, it’s a good take on him, plus he bounces off Sonic pretty well. I do wonder what the hell they’re going to do with him tho.

Awn… acknowledgment of some of the chaotix families… Blockhead Bill my dude

Tikal being given more of a spotlight is neat. It doesn’t give her much, but it’s refreshing to see her thoughts and intentions. However, I can’t help but think that she was mainly inserted to aid Knuckles and be a well of angst. Like IDK, Knuckles has moments mourning his past, or wondering if he will ever understand his ancestors, and Tikal well… She sees things rather than feel? If that makes sense? Like in this comic she is able to see a bit of the past and think “wow this is horrible! Must be a nightmare!” but she doesn’t feel despair? Or anything much? The only moment so far she felt despair was to make Knux Angst, like “ooooh shes suffering so we need to wipe her memories, that means Knuckles wont have his backstories :(“. Smells fishy.

Oh wow, Shadow has an actually interesting backstory here. It gives a reason to follow Robotnik, hate Sonic, not give a shit, aaaand its ambiguous enough you can probably pull off whatever. Fucking congrats STCO writers.

Fave image. What the fuck are they even doing here. Freaks.

Hm. No thoughts on Shadows maybe death. Thematically it’s interesting and all, but we don’t get enough time with him to give a shit. Unless I’m reading it wrong it seems like Shadow is sacrificing himself to save Robotnik, but IDK.

Grimer develops a situatioship depression.

2007 ANTI-ASIAN RACISM. BAD.

Bro what’s with this Knuckles characterization. He would NOT be mean to Tikal. If anything he’d probably be a bit overbearing, trying to give attention to her even if she didn’t want it. I get trying to tie him living his whole life alone being overwhelmed and feeling frustrated that Tikal can’t give him answers, but he wouldn't treat her like crap what is this. I like Porker’s and Knux bro moment, but that doesn’t make up for treating Tikal badly for no reason. Where’s her catharsis? She’s probably just as confused and desperate as Knuckles but she doesn't get any of these moments. Sigh. This idea could’ve definitely worked if Tikal was pushier or more imposing, but like she doesn’t do much, so Knuckles just snaps and it feels off. Knuckles’s stories are probably the issues with the biggest potential, but the writers for sure squander him the most, whomp whomp.

“One of Sonic’s fears is seeing Amy settle down with someone else” no it isn’t shut the fuck up. And the fact they put this on the same level of fear as Jhonny death is deranged.

The tonal whiplash between character comics is p funny honestly. You’ll have one really serious comic followed by a comedic one, lil bit of a mood killer. I guess STC also did this, but to me it at least wasn't jarring like this. Like how am I supposed to process Big getting shot, after Knux and Tikal experiencing the worst nightmare of their lives, living the trauma of seeing million of dead echidnas, after Vector put angel island as a security fund for his ship LMAO.

SONIC CHARACTERS HELPINH OUT THE POLICE SFAJHBJHBWRKJBJB??????!!!!!!!!????????????????????!!!!!!!!!????????11111111!!!!!!!111!!!!111!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hate this actually.

These Shorty and Tekno comics…… I don’t know what it is about them but god. I just don’t like them! Firstly that now it seems they are a completely separated duo from the rest of the team. Like They don’t interact with Sonic or Amy or whatever. Secondly.. Shortfuse is TOO nice. It doesn’t feel like him where is his tantrums??? And this isn’t a diss on the artstyle itself, cause I think it looks pretty nice and cute, but I don’t think it’s really fitting for the characters? Tekno and Shorty look like they’re in a shoujo manga.

I really like how Sonic is now a loser LOL. He got canceled to hell and back.

Finally Rouge makes and appearance. Kinda only realized how little she showed up during the SA2 adaptation.

Grimer destroying Sonic’s reputation is actually kinda nice. I like that they acknowledge his Robotnik situationship depression, tho I think it’s a bit over the top have him be behind EVERYTHING. Still like it tho. Go gross boy go! (Also the art in this issue is REALLY solid, wow, Zak Simond-Hurn really is my favorite artist from the STCO group).

At some point I think I need to stop complaining about Knux’s characterization. But I Do Not Like How They Write My Boy. Doc Zach is still serving cunt so that’s great. Go grandpa go!

It’s kinda awesome to see how the issues expanded through STCO’s run, but I think having so many stories at the same time kinda makes stuff bloated. Like I’m sure I’ll forget some parts of this, even if they are short bits. Like do we really need to follow 2 sonic stories and 2 amy stories at the same time? I think it would’ve been better to pace this with a limit of 3-4 stories MAX per issue. And then once a character story is done, release the next story with the same character. Sonic and Knuckles are kinda always going to be there, having the biggest pull on the comic’s lore and story, so the other ones could cycle out between amy, tekno, shorty, tails, sonic’s world, chaotix, and so on. I haven’t read some of the other non-sonic stories like decap n attack, but those could be thrown in the cycle too!

Actually I love that DP is just hanging out in Big’s restaurant. It’s goofy I really love it.

I wonder how old Sonic’s gang is supposed to be here. Like in theory some years have passed in the comic, but how many. It’s not important at all but Amy is seen drinking wine with Chrysalis and it’s like?? Is she a kid?? Is she an adult?? Is she underage drinking? Again it’s not a big deal, and I don’t even think these characters need a specific age but IDK this was odd to me.

Oof the multiple stories at the same type problem came instantly. I like how Amy acknowledges the losses of the group, Sonic is “evil”, Jhonny is dead, Tekno is missing and stuff, Porker has PTSD and cant fight… But like. That feels so weird when you have a story right next to it with Amy and Tekno together!!! This is why the pacing and bloating feels whack, the comic has continuity with SOME of the stories but not all so its confusing. I know the OG comic had moments like these but because it had less stories per issue, it was way less noticeable, and usually were one-off stories I think.

And on the topic of Porker, I did mention before how he just kinda.. went back to being more adventurous? But know the comic insists that he can’t do it? Man this is kinda messy. I don’t mind Porker starting to become more adventurous again and then maybe regressing a bit in recovery, being too much for him, but it doesn’t feel like that is what it’s being intended here. It feels like someone read STC and maybe skimmed on STCO and then wrote this, so it feels out of place? Like you have porker in the first issue of STCO going on a mission no problems at all, but then on another issue he goes on a mission to blow up an eggman database or smth and hes freaking the fuck out being nervous all the time. Like which is it!!!!! I don’t mind him progressing and regressing on his trauma but at least acknowledge or be consistent with it! Is it because the underwater mission didn’t involve Robotnik? Is that it? Who knows.

I get that Knux and the crew planned to bait Zachary and shit, but like, then why did they act like that in the previous issue? Like the plan was to break the shield so why did Porker said to Knux be careful about it? Girl. This information is only given to bait and switch the audience and it doesn’t work. Porker and Knux have no reason to pretend to not have a plan when they are alone what.

Tails working with cops I’m going to kill myself.

Oh so like. The special zone is dead for real. Like for real FR. Jesus. Could’ve let the characters grieve a bit huh.

Really liked the #250 issue (Tho its funny that I complained about the number of stories per issue, and then #250 has ONE story LOL)! It’s awesome to see the different arts from the varied artists on the STCO team. And even with my complains and whining, it’s an impressive project full of love, good to see stuff like this!

TURBO TURBO TURBO MY BOY TURBO!!!!

The art on this issue is great but some of the flow of the dialogue is off, as in, sometimes I don’t know which speech bubble I’m supposed to read next, cause usually you go left to right, but it seems this story follows top to bottom for speech bubbles and left to right to panel. Not awful but it did throw me off, and it does fuck up the pacing.

um. hi shadow? ok.

(Only read until issue #250)

[questionableratatouille00]

ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʜᴜʀʀʏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ (ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴇ)

Pairing: Stucky

Summary: Steve remembers all the times he couldn’t breathe.

Warnings: Major Character Death, angst, illness, PTSD, let me know if anything else needs to be tagged.

Note: this is for my ‘Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes’ square on my @marvel-smash-bingo card!

It felt like he couldn’t breathe. When Bucky had been captured. Taken.

And as he stormed the Nazi base, when Bucky wasn’t with the other soldiers, that feeling only intensified.

Part of him wished Bucky was dead. It was wrong, and he knew it. But he still hoped. He hoped that they’d just shot him, and he fell, and he died. Just like that. Gone. No pain, maybe didn’t even know it.

He hoped that Bucky had left him. Quickly.

Steve had no family left. Well, that’s not exactly true. He had Bucky, and Bucky’s family. But did that really count?

He had Bucky, Bucky’s little sister Rebecca, Bucky’s mother Winifred, and even Bucky’s asshole of a father, George. Well, George was only an ass sometimes. Sometimes he was a wonderful person and a true role model, but he wasn’t exactly the greatest. He could be violent, on occasion.

Not violent like Steve’s on father was before he left, but George Barnes wasn’t shy about beating his children as a punishment.

But it was hard. It was hard, when he got back from that awful HYDRA base. HYDRA, they called themselves. Nazis.

It was hard, when he and Bucky shared a cabin. It wasn’t even really a cabin, but it wasn’t a tent either. It had just enough room for two cots. It was by no means large, and Steve was by no means small. Not anymore.

He could see the look in Bucky’s eyes, the longing, the fear. He was safe now, he was rescued. But the battle wasn’t over. And Steve could tell by that very look in his eyes meant that the battle would never really be over. Not for Bucky.

He’d known about shell-shocked soldiers returning from war. He knew one, even. Mr. Raynor.

The man was older, and lived not too far from Steve. Steve and Bucky, really, considering how much time Bucky spent there and how he even paid most of the rent.

Mr. Raynor lived alone. No family, no wife, no children. Neighbors would bring him food, sometimes, when they could spare it. He became a social outcast, not unlike Steve.

Steve never really interacted with the man, but he knew that the man wasn’t some kind of freak like some of his neighbors seemed to think. Steve didn’t have any real conversations with him, but he’d seen him in passing. He’d seen the look in his eyes.

And he saw that same look in Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes as they stared at him.

“You don’t look like you,” Bucky told him.

“..I am, though. I am me.” Steve said awkwardly. He didn’t know what to say to that.

“I guess.” Bucky answered back.

That had left Steve feeling worse than he already had been.

He met with Colonel Phillips, got thanked and yelled at at the same time, and then walked right back to his cabin. To Bucky.

He was lying down. He laid on his side, facing the entrance as best he could from the placement of his cot. The two cots were on other side of the entrance, and there was about a foot of room between the ends of the cots and the back wall.

“I can’t lay on my back anymore,” Bucky confessed.

“No?” Steve sat on his cot, pulling off his boots.

“Makes me see things. Things that aren’t there. But they used to be. I remember them.” Bucky wasn’t looking at Steve. He was looking down, so his eyelids looked almost closed. Closed, like his eyes would’ve been in a casket if Steve hadn’t been there when he was.

Steve had no idea what Bucky meant. But he had a feeling the way his brain seemed to be scrambled had something to do with the Nazis that had tortured him.

“I want to go home.” Bucky said suddenly, looking up at Steve.

“I know.” Steve frowned.

“I didn’t wanna come in the first place. But they don’t want me to go, and I can’t leave you. I can’t.” Bucky seemed to be getting distressed.

“You don’t have to. I’m right here. We’re together. And we’re—we’ll make it home. Together.” Steve vowed. Bucky’s eyes watered.

“I just wanna see my ma.” Steve’s heart shattered at the words.

“I know you do. And you will. I’m going to get you home.” Steve promised. You. Not us, his mind reminded him bitterly. Steve couldn’t just leave. Not now. Not when he was basically property of the government and still had a few shows to do. Not when he’s stuck in the army, in the war, in the middle of the one thing that could tear him and Bucky apart any day.

It was clear Bucky was trying to hold in his sobs.

Steve stood, in his undershirt and more comfortable pants, and walked towards his closest friend.

Changing in front of Bucky wasn’t weird. They knew each other well, they were both grown adult men and were in the army. Stuff like that didn’t matter anymore.

Bucky reached for him, and Steve crawled into his cot with him. They barely fit, and Steve was worried that if he moved a bit too much the whole thing would collapse under them.

He took Bucky in his arms.

“You’re warm.” Bucky murmured.

Sharing a bed wasn’t weird for them either. For other men, sharing a bed was a strange thing when it wasn’t necessary. But Bucky and Steve weren’t like most of the other soldiers.

When Steve was smaller, Bucky would share his bed to keep him warm on cold winter nights. It worked for them.

“Yeah.” Steve whispered back.

“I’m scared. M’not..not like I used to be. Nothing is. You aren’t. I’m not. The world isn’t.” Bucky’s brows were furrowed.

“I am too,” Steve breathed. Bucky was right. He would forever be different. And Steve would be, too. He wasn’t smaller. He wasn’t sick, he wasn’t even sure if he smelled the same for Christ’s sake.

The world, obviously, had changed. The war, the fact that they went from Brooklyn to Europe, how instead of candy shops and apartments, life had changed to trenches and gunfire.

Nothing was the same. Not like it had been.

“Remember our first day of school? Back when we were younger?” Steve asked suddenly.

“Kind of?” Bucky replied.

Steve remembered. He had been terrified. He couldn’t do a whole lot due to his various ailments, but being the smallest kid in his class didn’t exactly make it better. Making friends was hard. He couldn’t play the sports with the other boys. He obviously didn’t fit in with the girls.

But he did fit in with Bucky. And that was enough.

“C’mon, Stevie. It won’t be scary. I promise.” A very young Bucky had assured him. His mother had given him a similar reassurance that morning, but his nerves weren’t that easy to be convinced.

Bucky was a year older. They wouldn’t be in the same class, and that scared Steve to death.

“You promised me you’d get me through the day and back home, safe and sound.” Steve murmured against Bucky’s hair. “I’m gonna do the same.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” Steve swore.

“Fuck!” Steve gasped as he climbed on the outside of the train. Bucky was fine. He was going to go home.

“I just wanna see my ma.”

“Grab my hand!” He shouted, clutching the bar on the side of the train.

Bucky was holding on to an identical one, and he reached for Steve. Their fingers brushed.

And then Bucky jolted. He was falling. He was right there, and Steve had almost had him, and then he was falling, falling, falling.

It felt like time was moving slowly, as cliche as it sounds. He heard Bucky scream. Bucky was leaving him. Steve had lived through so many winters, had survived so many illnesses, just to stay with Bucky. To not leave him. He’d risked his life getting that serum just so he could be with Bucky. He’d lived through war just to be with Bucky. To not leave him.

But here they both were. And Bucky was leaving him.

Please, God, he begged. Let him die. Let him die quickly. Steve couldn’t breathe.

He hoped Bucky would fall and hit his head and that would be it.

He could only imagine Bucky, lying cold and half-dead in the snow for several agonizing hours.

But the train kept moving. Breathless sobs wracked his body. He couldn’t breathe. Fuck, he couldn’t breathe. Not without Bucky.

“Steve?” He knew that voice. He spun around, watching the one person he could never lose begin to fall to the ground.

Bucky’s legs, the legs that had carried him all his life, began to turn to ash. The ash went up his torso, up his chest, up his face. Until he was nothing.

Steve raced towards the pile of dust that was once his beloved.

He grazed his hand over it. He would scream, cry, punch the ground if he could. But he couldn’t breathe. That same breathless feeling that had been with him throughout his entire life—whether he was sick in bed or on a train in the Alps—filled his body again. He clutched at his heart, wondering when it would stop working due to his lack of oxygen. But it never did.

And that made the whole ordeal even worse. He couldn’t breathe.

A/n: thank you for reading! Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

[ladyhoneydee]

this peppermint winter, this marshmallow world

Zelink | College AU | 5.8k

At the end of the second swallow, she finally opened her eyes—and caught Link in the midst of a sip of his own. Watching her. Why did the warmth in his eyes look so…different? Had he ever looked at her that way before, in all their years of friendship? Maybe it was just the glow of the streetlamp they stood beneath, transforming the snow into glittering fairy dust and the ambiance into spun gold. If they left this place, if they took their walk as planned, perhaps the clear blue moon would return them to the same light they’d always been cast in. Why did the thought of that make her chest so tight?

Written for @pastelsandpining as part of the Hateno Hideout Secret Santa! If you like the best-friends-to-lovers trope, nonverbal trans guy Link who is acting veeeery oddly all of a sudden, and confused, investigative Zelda, this one is for you.

Read it on AO3, FFN, or under the cut!

Zelda knew something was wrong with Link from a mile off. 

It didn’t matter that she was stuck behind the front desk, explaining to a frazzled-looking first year that no, they did not have any private study rooms available at this very minute, and they would have to wait twenty minutes or so until something opened up. From the moment her best friend strode into Castleton University’s Gaebora Library, his snow-dusted green beanie pulled down tight and chin tucked in low, she could tell that his mind was running a mile a minute on some topic or another. He always tended to crunch in physically when he was mentally distressed, after all. 

As the student surrendered with a grimace and set off towards the staircase—no doubt heading for one of the public sitting areas on the quiet upper floors—Link lifted his chin, and Zelda met his eyes. The whites widened, the pupils expanded. Then his gaze promptly dropped back to the laminate tiles underfoot.

Zelda’s suspicion rocketed through the ceiling, the five floors of the library over her head, and the snow-laden roof shingles high above. With the exception of particularly awkward or emotional conversations, Link had never struggled to hold eye contact with her before. Heck, they had practically lived off of staring contests back in high school. Even now, five semesters into university, new friends invariably asked if she and Link were dating based solely on how annoying about eye contact and making goofy faces at each other they were.

Still, there was no way he could actually avoid her, even if he wanted to. Not when she was on front desk duty, and the only student worker on shift who knew Hyrulean Standard Sign Language. After all, Link never came to the library to study, only to pick up books. Nonverbal as he was, it was easier to focus in a private place than somewhere people who couldn’t understand HSSL might try to talk to him. 

His fingers stuttered through her name-sign for a moment before smoothing through the rest of his words. “I have an interlibrary loan to pick up? A Walk in the Lost Woods by K.-I.-A. H-E-R-M-O-S?” His finger-spelling of the name was quick, but she’d been signing since elementary school and reading Link’s words and letters off his hands for nearly as long; it was nearly impossible to trip her up at this point. 

“Sure, I’ll just need to grab it!” Zelda’s voice brimmed with enthusiasm to cover up her suspicion. “For your Environmental Philosophy course, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah. Got an essay due next week.” 

Well, at least he was making conversation.

“Tonight is such a mess,” she complained. “I swear I’ve had five different students try to get me to find their books for them instead of just following my directions. It’s like everyone’s brain cells died over winter break.” 

A smile cracked through Link’s slight frown and downturned brows. “So now they’re killing yours in retribution, huh?”

“Mm-hm! Which is exactly why you should get us coffees from Piper’s and meet me on the quad for a walk when you’re finished studying and I’m done with my shift!” She beamed at him.

Just like that, alarm swept his face clean of the soft warmth it had held only a moment prior, and his gaze darted away from her once again. He rubbed his hands on his pants before replying, as if wiping off sweat—which was weird, given that he’d just come in from the cold, and hadn’t been wearing gloves. 

“Oh, I don’t know…”

“Come on, please?” she wheedled. “I’ll need something to resuscitate my poor, dying brain cells. And you’re my chosen hero of the hour.” She smiled in the winning, bossy way she’d learned from a childhood cultivated by a single dad who was not only a hardass entrepreneur, but also had moonlit as the president of the PTA at every public school she had attended. 

She’d learned other things from Daphnes, too. Like how to pursue a lead when something seems fishy—and how to throw someone off the scent of your true intentions until the opportune moment. 

The trick was to pick a reason that was still genuine, just not the whole truth. 

Link sighed, his gestures slowing and taking on weight to emphasize his put-upon tone. “If you insist. But— I’m bringing hot chocolate, not coffee.” Her pout was met with a stern, wolf-eyed stare. “I don’t care if you live off of caffeine. It’ll be after ten before we’re both done for the night, and I’m not dropping money on your addiction when I’ve got perfectly good cocoa mix in my dorm.”

Zelda let out a ponderous sigh of her own. “Fiiiine.” She placed her hands on her hips. “You’re no fun, you know that?”

“They say that the chosen heroes rarely were,” Link shot back, his gestures short and snippy, but punctuated with enough flair that she knew it was from sass rather than actual upset. “I’m just living up to your expectations.”

“Sure, hero.” She smirked. “Let me grab that book.”

As she swiveled her rolly chair around to scan the loan shelf for his book—Nayru’s love, did none of the other student workers this semester realize they were supposed to label the books with the requester’s name to make things easier?—Zelda mused over Link’s odd behavior. He’d brightened up, sure, but for him to hesitate over spending time together…

Well, the last time that had happened, it was right before he came out to her as trans the year they turned thirteen, and he was terrified she was going to hate him forever. 

When she spun back around, Link was fervently tapping his fingers against the wood of the front desk, expressions dancing over his features so quickly that she couldn’t make them out. He remained wordless and reticent while she checked out the green-bound hardback and passed it over, before throwing her a tight smile, waving awkwardly with his free hand, and walking out the door at an even brisker pace than usual. 

He hadn’t even paused to tuck the book away in his backpack.

…It was fine. It was. He’d been wrong back then—she could never hate him, but especially not for that —and no matter what secret feelings he was keeping close to his chest right now, he’d be wrong this time, too. She loved him too much for any other option to stick. Like snow falling on a manhole cover, any trouble between them would melt away before it had the chance to build up. 

She would make sure of it.

--

One of the downsides of working at Gaepora Library was that even at the end of the long, grueling evening shift, Zelda couldn’t leave until she’d scrubbed the floor. 

The reasoning was understandable enough, she supposed—given the building’s late hours, the CasU custodial staff were all done for the day by the time the library closed, and the slush and salt dragged into the lobby would damage the library’s century-old hardwood floor if it sat on them overnight—but that didn’t make her job any more enjoyable. The snow outside was pretty and all, and she couldn’t wait to go out in it with Link later, but did every student need to track slush in on their boots? They had a mat in front of the door for a reason!

Dimly, she noticed the clomping of winter boots approaching the front doors. Zelda glared down at the dirty rag in her hand and scrubbed even more vigorously. Surely the late visitor would notice the “CLOSED” sign she’d propped up in the front window, or the fact that nearly all the lobby lights were off, or her scrubbing the floor, and correctly assume that they should come back in the morning.

The door before her swung open. 

Zelda reared back from the sudden blast of cold. Wrath simmered in her veins, and she snapped her head up, ready to give this person a piece of her mind. 

“Excuse me, but the library is actually closed for the eve—”

Link. 

His nose was red from the chill, and his shoulders shook with mirth. Immediately, all of the frustration that had been coiling like smoke in Zelda’s lungs throughout her shift whooshed out of her with a deep sigh.

“Nice floor,” he signed. “Very clean.”

“If you step on it, I might have to kill you.” 

He laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He’d obviously stopped by his dorm since the last time she’d seen him. His rugged leather-and-canvas backpack was nowhere to be seen, and he’d swapped out his slate-blue quilted jacket for a snowquill-stuffed puffy coat. This time, he was actually wearing gloves, and his omnipresent green beanie was pulled as far over his ears as it could manage.

She smiled fondly. Some things never changed. They might be twenty and sleep-deprived from annotated bibliographies and slideshow presentations instead of ten and sleep-deprived from playing video games under the covers all night, but Link would always get cold faster than she did.

Link, unaware of the nostalgic origins of her affectionate stare, gave her a hesitant smile in return. “I left the hot chocolates outside. No food and drinks in the library, and all.” 

“Aw, you’re such a good boy,” she cooed. “You rule follower, you.”

To her surprise, he flushed redder than the ruby studs in his ears. Gloved fingers twitched wildly in the air for a moment in a clear nonvocal stutter before he pressed the tips together so hard that she almost thought she could see them quiver from the strain. 

The pause in the conversation was disjointed, alien. Like they were metronomes running on two different beats per minute, instead of the unison they’d always shared. 

“Are–are you ready to go?” he asked eventually, and Zelda’s brows shot up. Was he just not going to address his reaction? What was going on? 

At her lack of reply, his eyes darted around the lobby, and he filled the void himself. “They’re gonna get cold if you take much longer. Slowpoke.” Even the teasing insult was added on belatedly, as though he was reading off a script of their usual interactions and had nearly forgotten the last part of his line. 

Well, if he wasn’t going to be normal, she would just have to pick up his slack. 

“Oh, I’ve been ready! In all ways except the physical.” She waved the damp rag in her hand pointedly. “Give me just a minute.”

The nod Link gave her was heavy with relief, and she realized he was grateful she hadn’t called him out on his weird behavior. Well, he was going to be in for a rude awakening once they started their walk and the interrogation began. 

One rag rinsed and squeezed out, one desktop computer logged out and turned off, and one book-stuffed messenger back hauled onto her shoulder later, they were out the door. 

--

Zelda was grateful for the hot chocolate before she even took a sip. The lightweight knit gloves she kept in the pocket of her winter coat were not cutting it against the chilly wind and swirling snow. Central Hyrule wasn’t particularly known for being a cold region of Hyrule—not with places like the Mt. Nayru region of Lanayru and the entirety of Hebra as competition—but when winter settled in over the wide grasslands, it truly did settle. So when she plucked one of Link’s ceramic travel mugs off the bench, the heat that sunk into her fingers was entirely welcome. 

“They’re dark chocolate with peppermint and marshmallows,” Link signed. His gestures were harder to decipher when made one-handed, as the other was occupied with his own mug; still, after a lifetime of communicating with Link in all kinds of one- and two- and even no-handed situations, she could parse them rather well. “I made them both the same so that you wouldn’t have to make any decisions. Or complain if I made the decision.”

“Aw, you’re so kind. The great hero, saving me from my own agency.” She sent him a sly look.

“Hey, how many times have you texted me just to ask me to pick something for you out of decision fatigue at the end of a long day?”

“Too many to count.” She nudged him in the side gently. “I am grateful for that, truly.”

“Oh, I know.” His elbow bumped her in return. “Now drink your hot chocolate, you mooch.”

“ Yeah, your mooch,” she shot back, and took a sip. 

If she’d been looking at Link at that instant, she might have seen how his lips parted and trembled at her words. But Zelda’s eyelashes had fluttered closed from pleasure the moment the sweet, minty richness hit her tastebuds, and the moment passed, unseen.

“Mmmmm, that’s the stuff.” Unconsciously, she poked her tongue out to collect the scant remaining droplets of chocolate from her lips, before going back in for another greedy gulp. The warmth, the velvety texture of half-melted marshmallows slipping into her mouth, the cool echo of mint that lingered even after the sip was gone—it was like a green firework going off in her mouth, cascading sparks of comfort all the way down to her stomach.

At the end of the second swallow, she finally opened her eyes—and caught Link in the midst of a sip of his own. Watching her. 

Why did the warmth in his eyes look so…different? Had he ever looked at her that way before, in all their years of friendship? 

Maybe it was just the glow of the streetlamp they stood beneath, transforming the snow into glittering fairy dust and the ambiance into spun gold. If they left this place, if they took their walk as planned, perhaps the clear blue moon would return them to the same light they’d always been cast in.

Why did the thought of that make her chest so tight?

“How are the brain cells?” Link signed.

“Huh?” She blinked, owl-eyed. 

He laughed. “Okay, so they’re obviously not—” His hands fluttered in the air for a moment. “Oh, what was the word you used before…”

“Resuscitated.” She narrowed her eyes.

He ignored it. “That’s it! Resuscitated. Obviously your brain cells haven’t been resuscitated yet.”

“I think your presence might be killing them off, actually.”

“Well, I can always leave if that’s what you’d prefer…” His words were lighthearted, but something glittered in his eyes. Something that turned her stomach and reminded her what, exactly, they were there for.

“No!” She flinched back at her own outburst and thought fast. “I mean, no, obviously I don’t want you to leave. What I want is to go on a walk with you through the Green.”

“The Green?” If she hadn’t been watching him so closely, she might have missed him nervously biting his lower lip. “I thought you said the quad. And I don’t know if it’s a good idea to go all the way out there. I mean, it’s going to get pretty cold tonight.”

“The cold front isn’t supposed to blow in until midnight, actually. I checked the weather earlier. It’ll be totally fine—no more snow or cold than we’re already getting.”

Link looked up, but the sky was inscrutable. It was impossible to tell if the clouds above were thick and heavy with snow or light and mobile; if they were on their way out or if more lurked on the horizon. His brow furrowed.

“Besides, I can always keep you warm myself,” Zelda joked. It was a quip long-familiar for them—their friendship had always been one of touchy-feely affection—but instead of the habitual glomping hug or taking of her hand, Link only gave her that same frightened rabbit stare.

“Or not.” She laughed awkwardly. “Again, the weather shouldn’t be a problem anyhow. Even for you.”

“Ha, ha,” he signed sarcastically, and she could have collapsed with relief. “Make fun of me for having a normal response to abnormal temperatures.”

“It’s my solemn duty as your best friend to make fun of you,” she said through a cheeky grin.  “So? Are you in?”

Link sighed, and it was like she was seeing the action in double: the put-upon, overdramatic performance, and the actual release of trepidation it concealed. “...Yeah. Yeah, of course I’m in. Always.”

Always, even if the whole evening had been strange and discombobulated so far. Zelda took a deep breath and let it out. They would get through this, no matter what was churning inside his head and spilling out like steam over a hot spring. It was him and her. Zelda and Link. Always.

“Perfect.” She smiled at him, softer than the gently falling snowflakes. “Shall we?”

“Yeah,” he said, and the smallness and lightness of his motions let Zelda know her feelings were reciprocated. “Let’s take a walk.”

--

The Green was the closest thing CasU had to a nature reserve. It must have had some sort of official name, but Zelda hadn’t looked at a map of campus in years, and every student she’d ever heard talking about the place just called it the Green. Even the professors and administration did, as if they realized that no one would know what they were referring to unless they adopted the students’ language. 

But regardless of what one called the hundreds of acres of green space that hugged the entire western border of campus, a walk on one of the well-trodden footpaths along the river, through the woods, or across the meadows was always an enjoyable way to spend a few hours. Between Link’s Outdoor Education major, Zelda’s multitude of Biology internships, and the hours the pair had spent avidly mapping every trail themselves during their first semester, they both practically had the land memorized. 

Still, it was only practically, never wholly, because there was always something new to see. 

Even with three years at CasU under her belt, the Green’s beauty in winter never failed to strike her. Although it might have benefitted from a temporary renaming, given how everything besides the tall, old conifers sprinkled amongst the leafless oaks, maples, and aspens was blanketed in pure white snow. The branches criss-crossing over their heads were completely coated, as if the goddesses had dipped them in marshmallow fluff for a wintry treat. 

“It looks completely different,” Link signed. He took a sip of his hot chocolate. 

Zelda had to agree. The last time they’d hiked through the Green—nearly a month ago now, between finals, winter break, and the hectic first week back—a chaotic mess of decaying leaves had carpeted the forest floor, and they’d had to watch their step or risk tripping over a well-camouflaged root. The soil had been wet and slick beneath their feet from rain, and sprinkled through the tussocks of browning grass crumbled huge, frost-blackened mushrooms. Now, the whole world glittered beneath the silver rays of the half-moon, illuminating dozens of squirrel, rabbit, bird, and deer tracks that ran beneath the tree trunks—tracks that could only have been laid since the snow began falling, less than an hour ago. 

How strange, that the season of death felt more lively than the long, damp months that preceded it. 

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. She wasn’t sure why. The hush just felt right. 

When Link looked over at her, eyes soft and wide with wonder, and nodded, she knew he felt it too. 

They reached a split in the path, a familiar crossroad. Left would take them further into the woods; right would take them to the meadows on the northeastern edge of the Green, before curving back in the direction of campus proper. 

She turned to Link once again. “What do you think? Right?”

“Wrong,” Link joked. “Nah, totally, let’s go to the meadows. It’ll be easier to get back to our dorms from there anyway.”

“It’ll be nice to see how they look, too, with the snow. By morning all the skiers will be out, and it won’t be nearly as pretty.” Zelda grinned good-naturedly. ‘All the skiers’ often included Link and Zelda in their numbers, after all. 

They swung off to the right, pointing out how the makeup of the forest changed as they got closer and closer to the meadows. When they both finished their final swigs of cocoa, marshmallows glazing pillowy sweetness down their throats, Zelda offered to stow their travel mugs away in her backpack. After all, Link had made them himself in his ceramics studio last year; it wouldn’t do for them to break! 

Still, even when the heat from the mug in her hands was gone, Zelda felt warm down to her core.

Books always said that winter was quiet, but Zelda couldn’t help but feel that was exactly wrong. It always felt, to her, like more. Brighter, with the snow reflecting the moonlight back up to dazzle their retinas and aid their journey. Freer, with the song of the wind more obvious as the fresh powder muffled any of the typical forest sounds. Sweeter, with the clean crispness of snowfall settling on the tongue. The beautiful more ness of it all filled her up, until she felt just shy of bursting with contentment.  

And then they crossed into the open air with its swirling snow and stars, and something in her chest, something brilliant and winged and joyful, rose and broke free of its tether.

Her head tipped back and her mouth opened wide and she drank in the moonlight, the starlight, the north wind. Arms flung wide to embrace the night. She twirled, twirled, twirled, basking in the coldbright good until it blurred into streaks and her dancing feet stumbled their way into a deep, clinging snowbank and she tripped—

Arms around her. Warm but not warm; body heat covered up by a wind-chilled shield. Soft but not soft; sturdy compactness muffled by puffy down. Her body was motionless, but her vision spun like the orbit of some wild planet. Its sun: the green beanie. 

“Nice catch,” she said breathlessly. “Have you considered sports?”

One hand lingered on her still-swaying waist, holding her steady. The other lifted to her cheek, its touch tender. His woolen glove itched as it traced letter-signs against her cold skin.

“D-U-M-M-Y.”

“Rude.”

With a deliberately hard blink, her vision finally stopped spinning. Link’s face was before her: nose and cheeks ruddy from the cold, bemused smirk on his lips. It was strange to be staring up at him for once. She hadn’t done that since they were eleven, when she shot up like a beanpole and didn’t stop growing until halfway through high school. 

Noticing the change in her gaze, Link retracted his hand from her cheek, instead hovering it between them where she could make out his signs. “You know, spinning around like you did when we were little is a lot more dangerous now than it was then. Kids have way stronger bones.”

“I drink my milk, thanks. Lon Lon Ranch is coming in clutch for my bones.”

He gave her a deadpan look. “Sure you do. Because I’ve definitely seen you get milk at the cafeteria even once in the last two and a half years.”

“Well…there was milk in the hot chocolate, right?” She raised a brow at him.

“Nope. Box mix and water.” His stare was positively gloating.

“You’re awful.”

“ Yeah, your awful,” he said, and then, as if the terrible, adorable pun had flipped a switch in his brain, his jaw went slack and his eyes bugged. Zelda had about one second to get her feet beneath her before he dropped his arms and stepped back so abruptly that she would’ve fallen again, had she not felt the tension seize his every muscle. 

As it was, she still stumbled. Her jaw clenched, but she forcibly relaxed it before meeting Link’s gaze again. 

In the time it took her to recover, he’d taken two steps back, a distance that yawned between them like an abyss between their feet. His arms were wrapped tightly around his stomach, as if he was about to be sick—or protecting his soft, squishy bits from a nearby threat.

“I think it’s time to tell me what’s going on,” Zelda said, voice soft but clear.

Link was already shaking his head. She waited for his hands to rise into place, for him to uncurl his hedgehog self and speak, even if it was a no, but they didn’t.

“Link, it’s obvious that something is wrong. You’ve been acting wei—” She cut herself off; reconsidered. “... different all night. I’m not judging you, I’m worried. You’re my best friend. I want to help you, if it’s something I can help with.”

The head-shaking slowed, then gradually ceased. He peeled his arms free from his torso. When his gaze met hers, her heart twinged at how ashamed he looked, with his shiny eyes and the redness of his face that she knew surpassed what the cold alone could do to his skin. 

“Do you promise you won’t judge me? Or get mad?”

“I promise,” she vowed. “And Link,” she smiled at him gently, “if you think I would judge you for anything, you’re ignoring thirteen years of experience.”

He let out a juddering sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. Okay. Okay. So the thing is…” His gestures trailed off. He tried again. “The thing is…it’s…I…”

“You can plan what you want to say first,” Zelda murmured. “No hurry, as long as I do get to know it eventually.”

He nodded jerkily, gaze settling on the churned-up snow between them. When his hands began twitching in loose, tiny gestures, Zelda turned her own gaze to the sky to give him privacy. 

The snow had begun falling faster since they’d begun their walk through the Green. She could hardly see the constellations between the shadows of the clouds above. The Ocarina, the Hero of Winds, the Chosen Lovers—all her favorites were out of sight. She could barely make out the three stars that formed the belt of the Princess of Light. 

A tap on her shoulder. She looked over at Link, whose face looked a little more settled, a little less panicked. 

“I’m ready now,” he signed. The motions were steadier, and she felt the tension in her unknot the tiniest bit. They were Link and Zelda. They’d be okay. 

She nodded encouragingly. 

“You’re right that there’s something wrong,” he started. “Wrong with—with me. At least I think it’s with me, because there’s nothing you’ve done wrong that would have done this, at least I don’t think so, I can’t think of anything, but—” 

He cut himself off, dropping his hands fully back to his sides before raising them again. 

“There is something wrong with me. When I’m with you. It started…” His gaze left hers and focused on the stars above, remembering. “I think it started during finals week. That night we pulled the all-nighter. I thought it was just because of how tired I was…but then it happened over winter break, at the solstice bonfire. And it’s only gotten worse since then.”

Zelda’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. Nothing wrong with her, yet it only happened when he was in her company? A gust of wind rocked them both, and for a split second, she wished it would carry her away.

“I just feel so…so weird,” he burst out, hands flying into bigger shapes than they had all night. “Whenever we’re together. My heart beats so hard, and I feel it everywhere. And my knees get all shaky, and my hands get all shaky—which really sucks when you need your hands to communicate, by the way—and my brain gets all fuzzy, and my stomach churns.”

Oh. Oh, he was…

“And it makes me feel awful, because you don’t deserve me acting so weird with you, but sometimes you get close, or you say things that just make–make it stronger, and I just can’t help it!” He shook his head wildly. “I think I must be sick or something!”

Her heart thrummed in her chest at the same time as she had to bite back a laugh. She’d been worried all this time, and all along, he’d—

“Link,” Zelda said carefully. “I don’t think you’re sick.”

“Yeah?” He looked hopeful. “What do you think it is?”

“Well…” How to phrase this delicately? “Do you remember Malon? From high school?”

“Of course! I mean, she was my first girlfriend, how could I forget her?”

“And do you remember how you felt when you two first got together?”

“Yeah, being with her always made my heart…flutter…” He broke off, and Zelda could see the gears start turning in his head, spinning faster than even the snowflakes falling thickly around them.

No turning back now.

“Link…have you ever considered that you might…love me romantically?”

The denial was immediate, words flying from his fingers. “I can’t like you! We said we’d never date back in, like, middle school!”

Her chest swelled with fond amusement at the silliness of the rebuke.

“Link, that was almost a decade ago. We’re completely different people now. Way smarter, emotionally competent, physically attractive people. ” She grinned teasingly. “You had that terrible haircut that made you look like a coconut back then, of course I wouldn’t date you.”

“A coconut,” he repeated, gestures spiky with his derision. “Like yours was much better! You had that little pageboy cut for years.”

“Yeah, and as my best friend, it’s really your fault that I looked so bad for so long. You really should’ve warned me.” 

“My fault! You—” He broke off. After a couple of moments, he continued, gestures smaller. “You mentioned my hair, but…isn’t it also, you know, because of your sexuality?”

Zelda laughed. “I wasn’t even fourteen yet when we made that pact. I don’t think I even knew what a sexuality was.”

“No, I mean…” He scuffed his foot into the snow. “Now. You wouldn’t be into me now, because, you know.”

Zelda’s brows furrowed. “No, I really don’t. Can you be a little more clear?”

“Because…you’re straight?”

She blinked. That was not what she had expected him to say. “Link, that means I like men. You are a man. Of course I could be into you.” 

Link blinked at her as if she had just delivered an entire lecture on the precise chemical makeup of the secretions of tireless frogs and their utilization in the pharmaceutical industry. “I…yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” A smile spread over his face, slow and steady, until he was positively beaming. “You’re right! You could be into me!” He froze. “Wait, but are you into me? You already know how I feel, so…”

“‘Know?’ I practically figured it out for you,” she teased, then took a deep breath. “To be honest, I haven’t thought about it before, because I’ve been so happy to be your best friend. I’d have been happy to be that for you forever, as long as I was by your side. But you…seriously, Link, if you’d want to give us a shot romantically, I’d be so down for that.”

“Really?” he asked, starry-eyed.

“Yes,” she answered simply. “It’s another way to get to know you, to be close to you. To be happy with you.” She shuffled her feet. “I love you, Link, and I’d love to love you even more. Why wouldn’t I want to take that chance?”

The smile he gave her warmed her right down to her frosty toes. The two paces that had separated them for the entirety of their conversation disappeared in a flash, as he clumsily crossed the snow between them. 

“I could be your best friend forever, too,” he told her, “but I’d also like to be able to make out with you.” 

One hand reached up to cup her face, and Zelda tilted her chin down until their cold-reddened noses brushed. 

Nayru’s love, if Link’s heart had been hammering like this every time they’d touched for the last month, he was even more of an oblivious dummy than she thought.

But he was her oblivious dummy. Platonically, romantically. Eternally.

“We should get a start on that, then,” she murmured, watching his eyelashes flutter at the feeling of her breath on his face. “Time’s a-ticking. Snow’s a-blowing.”

Link let out a wordless groan, shifting the hand that cupped her cheek to instead twine demandingly through the hair at her nape, and signed rapidly with his free hand. “Gods, I love that smart mouth of yours.”

She wasn’t sure which one of them moved first, if it was Link’s hungry mouth or her own that bridged the gap. Whoever it was, it led to an intoxicating, insistent push-and-pull; the sharp press of Link’s teeth against her bottom lip; the sensation of the smooth muscle of his mouth as she traced her tongue along his own. 

He tasted of chocolate, peppermint, and marshmallow. Sweet and warm and familiar, just like him. 

Her best friend.

Link.

When they pulled apart, gasping for breaths that stung their lungs with the chill, she could feel that same fluttery something from earlier whirling in her chest, ablaze with joy. 

“That was…” she breathed. 

“Yeah,” Link agreed. His eyes were half-lidded, heavy with desire, as they traced over her face. “It was.”

“We should do it again, as soon as possible.” Zelda pressed a kiss to the lobe of his ear, tugging the ruby stud there softly with her teeth and luxuriating in his ragged gasp. How glad she was that Link had never chosen to let the holes close over; that he could look in the mirror and see how they suited the him he was now, rather than who he’d been when they were first done. 

“I think I’d rather—” he signed, and the shapes were fuzzy with the shaking of his hands, “—do it again somewhere warm.”

It was so unexpected, Zelda couldn’t help but release his ear in a full-body laugh. There was her Link, her precious, lovely, cold-hating Link. 

He’d continued despite her fit of giggles, although a smile had curved the corners of his mouth as well. “Seriously, you said the cold front wasn’t coming in yet, so what’s this?” He gestured at the snow whirling around them, which admittedly was coming down rather hard. And maybe the wind blowing in from the north was a little strong. 

“I never claimed to be a meteorologist,” Zelda sniffed. “And…didn’t I say I’d keep you warm?”

“Not warm enough!” Link dodged as she attempted to brush her icy nose into his warm neck. “Hey! Keep that thing to yourself!” 

As she chased him down the path that would take them back to campus, laughing wildly and stumbling where the drifts were too deep, Zelda couldn’t help but grin. The magic spell hadn’t broken when they left the streetlamp after all: they had kindled it all by themselves. It didn’t matter where they were. At his side, every flurry could be fairy dust.

It was him and her. Zelda and Link. 

Always.

[peanutgolds]

Asks by AO3 Commenters pt 11(Last part!)

Ask #193

Asks by Human:

“To the spirits, found anything emotionaly scaring on the internet yet? For both Saf and evils.”

Adrik: I haven’t been o-on internet for l-long, so… well, Stephanie had a horror movie online on the tv for some reason. One of the scenes involved little girl being decapitated in a car wreck…I screamed like a g-girl. I’ve seen movies and analog horrors on this phone thing, but in my time it was mostly movies and books. As ironic as it sounds, Psycho was actually very terrifying in my time frame.  Rita: seeing anything about genocides of any type.  Lucas: There are these…well, you’ll make fun of me for it, but there was these makeup edits, and one was based around pyrophobia. You can see where this is going…I saw it, it looked like a burned, melted face and I remembered running in after Ma…that’s probably how she looked after I was blown up… 

Lillian: anything gory. 

Sergei: graphic documentaries. 

Drakov: I managed to come across a news video clip involving a murder, and it was in an alley…not particularly scarring, but it reminded me of Scarlett’s death and what got me here.

“Andre would be into gore videos, wouldn't he?”

Andre: I watch them and I rate them based on how accurate they are. I am what you would likely considered a, hehe, gore artist myself~?

“How often do people try to hurt personifications that cause problems or distress for them, like for example Puppeteer? Maybe someone traumatized didn't appreciate her work so they tried to bash her skull in in a fit of mad rage. Or I guess they aren't even aware that the personifications is there at all while they do their work.”

Nutty: People don’t usually see the personifications, they usually disguise themselves. The pendant bearers see the personifications because there’s instances where they either need to be involved with them or the personification wants them to be. Puppeteer is petty and she wanted them to see her and put a face to what they see. She wanted to be seen while she saw them. Greed let himself be seen in full form by Mikhaïl because he saw Mikhaïl as a profitable business partner. Death, however, usually stays hidden because people are afraid of him. If the Collision didn’t happen, Stephanie and the gang would never have met him. They hide for this specific reason, because people will attempt to stop something if they see the person. They try to bargain. 

”Just remembered Stephanie likes listening to loud music. What does She listen to?”

Stephanie: Pretty much anything that’s catchy and something that usually isn’t too explicit. I have my exceptions to the rule but I try to listen to mild stuff. I usually listen to rock music. Me and Lucas, for example, have a similar taste in rock music. I listen to my music on full blast, so something like rock or broadway is heard only when I have my earbuds on. Jean has to come in and notify me on things. 

“Was Stephanie ever properly diagnosed with anything? How did her family members react?”

Louise: We know she’s autistic, and so are we.  Stephanie: We didn’t get too much reaction. They are thinking of taking me back up because of the trauma, though, to see if I now also have trauma.

“So, Stephanie is one of the few people in her friend group who had good parents. Were they fully good parents or did they also have some mild hangups of their own?”

Nutty: Her parents are great. They hold her accountable for misdeeds and praise her for good things. They listen when she has a complaint, and they trust each other. They have a very close knit family. 

Ask #194

Asks by Human:

”Glutony, what do you see in Otello? His rampant womanising, endorsement of child labour, or being so greedy he'd die before buying himself medicine?”

Gluttony: Lust has been asking me the same thing since he got here in the 20s! Lust says he’s brash and pretty sexist and greedy. Lust also says he’s sort of homely, but I don’t know… I just always liked him. I just assume I thought he had a heart under there.  Death: Oh God, she’s just like Steph and Sofania, and they are all screwed!

Steph: Hey, I don’t like selfish guys. 

“Also since you've said he is pretty promiscuous, shouldn't Lust know him well already?”

Nutty: XD I haven’t thought of that detail, not when I made that animatic, but he would be aware of Otello’s actions, and would have drawn him towards them. Lust probably doesn’t remember him due to him having other things to do. 

“Similarly, how does Lust feel about all the other cheaters/ promiscuous people. You know Kira, Yulia, Beatrice, Lola, Arman....(Others I forgot)”

Lust: I don’t like that Yulia woman. Lola and Beatrice, I like. Kira is annoying. Arman needs to rot. Otello is…Otello. I’m not best friends with the guy but I’ll work with him if I have to.

“I just figured out that I don't know if Otello was a cheater.”  Nutty: He was. I’m currently going with an idea he was somewhat avoidant with everyone, so while he’d ignore Martina and Vincent, he’d be going out with different women on some nights. 

“How did Lust die?”

Nutty: I think this would be kind of awkward, but probably an STI of some sort, and he died in his mid-20s. He no longer has it as a personification obviously, since he doesn’t have any ailments.

“Lust what do you think of Yulia being your possible replacement?”

Lust: God no- That would be fine if she wasn’t a creep. If she was just a promiscuous person, that’s fine. But she has hurt people in ways that cross a line.

“Lola, there is one lady personification with orange hair, I think you'd like.”

Lola: Really? What’s her name?

“Were Stephanie's parents diagnosed as autistic before Stephanie was, or was she diagnosed and they then got tested?”

Stephanie: Around the time I was found out. I don’t remember when, specifically.

Ask #195

Asks by Human:

“If a trans person was to die, would they have the body they had in life or would they have the body they would be more comfortable in/ that would fit them better?”

Nutty: I haven’t quite thought of that one. I would assume it would depend if they changed their body, they’d have that body in the Spirit Realm. If they haven’t transitioned in the living realm, they have the same body in the Spirit Realm. It depends on the body they die with. 

“Have you ever tried redrawing your old art?”  Nutty: I’ve done it a couple times. One of the redraws is on my da account. It’s the one where Right’s hair is a mess. 

“You've said Nari is a fallen spirit, what did she do?”

Nutty: I was thinking she’d be a thief of some sort, and died in a high speed chase with two of her friends. She’s got a good heart, she just fell into the wrong crowd. 

“"Lust says he’s brash and pretty sexist" How sexist are we talking about?”

Nutty: Probably as sexist as some men were at his time period. He’d probably come across extremely sexist. Someone could actually tone that down for him, perhaps. 

"Lust also says he’s sort of homely" What do you see "homely" in him, Lust?”

Lust: He’s not hideous but he’s still homely as hell. He’s got a round face, his complexion is kind of odd, and his hair is the oddest color I’ve ever seen in my life. His face has a bunch of scars, he needs to get rid of the facial hair.  Nutty: He’s homely in comparison to all the other personifications, he’s not the usual concept of “pretty”, and Lust tends to kind of tease and make comments about him over it. He doesn’t know Otello is actually kind of insecure about his looks, despite what the latter claims about them.

“Were Sin personifications inspired by Hazbin hotel and Helluva boss?”

Nutty: Well, yes and no. Lust was going to be a character before the others were drawn. Zinta and I already wanted Love and Lust to be a relavent plot point in the story, so Lust is the first one I drew. Wrath came about earlier on, because Wrath was originally going to be male, if memory serves. My sister inspired me to draw Envy, because she was making versions of the sins, and I asked her if I could make my own version of Envy. Otello and Kira being Greed and Pride came about when me and Zinta were talking about the story and I wanted to make the Sin Personifications. I think Sloth and Gluttony came about after that because what’s the point in having all the others without Sloth and Gluttony. There is probably some influence from the Vivziepop universe, since Lust kind of has some traits similar to viv’s version, XD. Lust is a little bitchier in mine, tho, despite being the closest in personality to Viv’s Asmodeus. I kind of want the personifications to be somewhat separate from the sins, tho, since they were all human at some point, with Lust and Envy being the only “halflings” in that space of the tribe. Gluttony was a German noble who died in the 1400s, Greed was Otello, Wrath was a serial killer in the 80s, Pride was Kira, and Sloth was a lazy, stoner like man in the 60s. I don’t know if I want to make him a squatter or what yet. Point aside, they probably were more influenced than anticipated, or less. I don’t remember, XD.

Ask #196

Asks by Human:

“Pam, is there something you are actually scared of?”

Puppeteer: I’m not great with spiders. I don’t remember anything else right off.  Nutty: We haven’t talked about that. We might just do that. 

“How curly is each of the curly haired character's hair? Since your art style is like that it's kinda hard to see and I am curious.”

Nutty: Well, Gluttony’s hair is so very obviously curly. It’s still like big black corkscrews on her head. Adrik and Stephanie’s is also pretty curly, but theirs, especially Steph’s, are long enough the curls are stretched out and are more like waves. That’s why Stephanie’s doesn’t look curly at all. Adrik is supposed to be a little more obvious, bc I’m supposed to be curling the tips of his hair up to look like they are curling at the ends a little more. I don’t remember to draw that detail, XD. Right’s is just like Stephanie’s, and same with Louise and Marianne’s hair. Kira’s is kind of curly, but Adrik gets his curly hair from Mik. Mik’s hair would be extremely curly if he had it cut short. 

“Lust, how are you going to say Otello has weird hair colour when yours looks like that? Also I think that skintone is normal in some parts of the world especially Mediterranean, so you might have done a twitter oooopsie 🤭. He does need to get rid of the beard tho.”

Lust: Because mine’s not the same as it was when I was alive! I was a dishwater blonde when I was alive, and so was my sister. My eyes were round and brown! Then you have Otello and his purple hair! I’ve seen pictures of him, he hasn’t changed much. And, I did not intend to sound racist with that comment. Otello always looks like his blood pressure is up, so his face seems redder than the rest. And, yes, the beard is disgusting.  Gluttony: Lusty, I think it makes him look very distinguished.

Lust:(gags)

"At the very least “plain”." “Wait, does that mean all the other characters are pretty?”

Nutty: Most of them, or they are compared to Otello. Lust and Love are absolutely gorgeous in appearance. Envy is pretty, Sloth and Ruth are, and Kira is. Deception, Karma, Glee, Fate and Time are all good looking. Death isn’t gorgeous, but he isn’t exactly ugly. He just looks older than what he is. Knowledge looks like an older woman. Gluttony is pretty in this, too, very pretty. I want Otello and Gertie to be a beauty and the beast situation, where Gertrude is very pretty and also very open, while Otello is on the homelier side and is more discrete. I also kind of wanted to break the mold of “pretty” for the characters because I felt like a lot of the characters are good looking. I wanted to sort of break that trend. I mean, Right was “homely”, when he was a kid, but then that cancels out bc I have it hc’d in the story he became extremely good looking as he aged. Lucas was the same story. I mean, they aren’t all tens or anything like that, vova for example isn’t as much of a winner in the looks lottery. Arman was pretty ugly. Adrik isn’t as pretty as his father, but in our story he definitely isn’t ugly. Stephanie and her family are pretty, and most of our villains are pretty(drakov is probably going to be a ‘hot villain’). I think the anthropomorphic characters have different standards. For example, Rolfe and Wendall are probably more plain, but Rachel and Rita are pretty. I haven’t really thought of that much. Otello is the first one in both HCs for actual existing characters or ocs ive pitched to actually be somewhat fugly. I guess I just don’t see it with many of the characters. I def don’t see it for Ivan, obviously, XD.

Ask #197

Asks by Human:

“I was wondering, what do your friends think of my fanart and Can'tpick's OCs?”

Nutty: I did tell Zinta about Pentrenko and Reznov one time when I mentioned canonizing the two OCs. I don’t know if I told Wingbeat. Zinta seemed cool with that. I showed both them and my sister your fanart, they all liked it. 

“I was also curious what did you think of inside out 2.”

Nutty: I haven’t seen it yet, but I want to. Badly, actually. Waiting for it to get on Disney Plus where I am. 

“Why do you draw some of your characters with shirts so low cut?”

Nutty: Mostly the artstyle. Technically I should be drawing Ivan and adrik with turtleneck sweaters or just sweaters of any kind, not v-neck tees, bc that’s their outfit. Nadia technically wears a gray blouse under her coat, with 50s style pants. 

“Are you ever going to draw your characters from your original book?”

Nutty: I plan on it. I did draw my protagonist before, bc I remember showing it to Username on discord. I just haven’t posted her or anyone else bc I wanna publish this book professionally if I can do so, and so I want to keep it somewhat discrete for copyright reasons. I’ve drawn the main character, but I want to keep it private. I don’t know if I can publish it if I talk about it. I might just post it on here. Thoughts? 

“Is Kira just narcissistic or does she have NPD?”

Nutty: we heavily intend to have Kira be NPD, because psychologically speaking, people who exhibit NPD are usually spoilt or abused. Kira was very spoiled and we thought it fit her perfectly. In the story there’s a lot of different conditions, and it was a far cry from the trauma, anxiety and depression we usually write. 

Ask #198

Asks by Human:

“Wait, did Otello actually do anything about Glutony's crush on him?”

Nutty: I don’t think he would. He’d just let her have a crush. It is easier to exploit. But there’s other reasons he’d let it, too. 

“Does he even know about it? How does he feel about it?”

Nutty: He doesn’t know. Or he didn’t at first. He harbors being flattered about it, because she’s not just paid to like him. She’s genuine, but it also scares him, because he’s avoidant as all get out. 

“Does he like her? (Obviously he wouldn't want a relationship with her, but as a one time thing)”

Nutty: He actually does. He really likes her. He thinks she’s sweet and in his secret words, “adorable”.  He would never tell anyone that, as everyone would assume it is a one time thing. He tries to keep it that way, keeping their relationship outside of co-workers as a one night stand, because he’s afraid to make anything out of it. He worries it could wind up broken. He thinks she just wants his money. That’s what he always tells himself so that way he keeps himself out of relationships. 

“Can personifications have any ailments? Physical or mental.”

Nutty: Definitely. Pride has NPD(Kira, after all). Otello actually has PTSD in his own way like the main cast, and also has an avoidant attachment style(not an ailment per se, but something I’ll associate with it). Death is technically autistic with mild trauma. I might have Fate possess a sort of arthritis in her hands. Stuff like that. 

“Is Lust a cheater too?”

Lust:(face contorts in shame) I was. That’s one of the ways I am now Lust. I was supposed to be married to a lady when I was alive. Good natured gal, but I turned around and messed with some other pretty dame, because my arrogant ass thought, “plenty of me to go around”. The encounter wound up ruining what I could’ve had. I would up getting sick and dying, and I am remembered by almost all in my time period as a whore with no heart. I don’t cheat now…I think it is the most warranted thing in getting out of this. 

“Stephanie, what kind of student were you behaviour wise? Ever lit something on fire in the classroom?😁”

Stephanie: Never set anything on fire, but I was rather…animated and snarky. If I wasn’t upbeat, I was cranky. I was also shy. It’s less noticeable now but it was really noticeable when I was a kid. 

 

Ask #199

Asks by Human:

“Are you a fan of roadtrips, Nutty? I ask cause the group is nonstop on a roadtrip (I made this question after coming back from a 17 hour roadtrip WE WERE STUCK IN TRAFFIC FOR 5 HOURS! AAAAAAAAAA!!!!)”

Nutty: I love to travel around, bc I personally don’t do it too often. I’ve always wanted to see the world, which is a reason the group goes everywhere. I’m sorry you got stuck in traffic for that long, goodness gracious. Being stuck in one place is always the worst part, tho. Personally, I’m a very animated person irl, so I always have to be moving. If I am sitting for too long I go stir crazy, XD. 

“Any new lore from Can'tpick?l

Nutty: He’s been getting me into Warhammer lore. Me and him have been doing an RP of an AU with said lore. It’s pretty fun. He’s made lore for the RP, such as these soldiers having the strength of characters like Lucy and Flash. 

“How's Can'tpick doing anyway? Haven't seen them around in a while.”

Nutty: I’ll let him answer this one personally, but me and him have mostly been talking, and I haven’t really heard too many bad things. 

“Does being a child of a personification make you more likely to be chosen as one?”

Death: You could say that. As a child of a personification, you have the abilities of one from birth. Usually they don’t appear until you die, or they are minor details. However, we’ve had some strays. Deception, Knowledge, Honesty, Greed, Wrath and Happiness are all strays.

“Does it mean you are more likely to have powers?”

Love: Yes, it does. However, I will point out, if you are a halfling, your representation isn’t decided. In me and Lust’s cases, ours was determined by our most noticeable trait. I was always caring towards everyone, and I love giving people a chance, so that’s how I became Love. My brother, Lust…well, you can guess what did him in.

“Adrik, Dmitri, Lucy, Vova, opinions on going to therapy?”

Lucy, Vova and Dmitri: Hate it.  Lucy: Nothing against getting help, I just don’t do all that talking shit. I am not used to talking about my feelings, so I would rather not do it.  Vova: i think Lucy took the words out of my mouth. Stephanie is okay, never really have any problems with her, I like her pretty well, but it’s always awkward to talk.

Dmitri: People dont have to know everything about me. It’s uncomfortable to just go out and say, “Hey, my father beat me and I was shot by my girlfriend, and now I’m a perfectionist”. It’s so awkward to have to bring it up.  Adrik: it was odd at first, but it actually helps more than I thought. I was scared of therapy at first because I thought the concept of therapy was still shock therapy, lobotomies and other types of abuse. I’d been hurt enough already. But talking things out to someone who listens actually seems nice. 

“Was Leo also Autistic?”

Nutty: I’ve considered it but I never pitched it because I feel like Leo being neurotypical would be a good excuse for Kira to play favorites with him. She’d use his “normal behavior” as an excuse to compare the neurodivergent Ivan, Adrik and Isaac to belittle them.

“How long does it take for Kira to copy someone's ability?”

Nutty: Not long, like, half a second. You don’t know she does it until she uses your power against you. It’ll be shown here soon.

“Is Otello getting the Vova treatment? Aka star as a horrible person, but you decide to soften them up.”

Nutty: Yes, he certainly is. I hope you don’t mind, XD. Why don’t I do that with any other female characters? It’s always the boys, XD. He’s been getting the vova treatment for a few weeks now. That’s what happens when I make a backstory. It’s like if I have to make them pure evil I can’t make them angst because I get too attached to the character. But yeah, Otello’s being marshmallowized. 

“Is it hard for you to write non autistic characters?”

Nutty: it’s probably harder than I notice. I don’t think about it, I just write them the way my friends and I see them. I wouldn’t think it would be too hard. Usually if I intend for someone to be autistic I project onto the character. I make sure to specifically add little details to make it pop out more than the others, since sometimes there may be autistic traits in the neurotypical characters, even in the ones that are in the canon fandoms. One could argue Henry is selectively mute bc of autism, but I see him to only have kleptomania. With neurotypical characters, I dont intentionally add those details, but with autistic characters, I think of their stims, what their special interests are, what bugs them. 

“Steph, Lucas, ever had a tactile hallucination of an ant crawling on you?”

Stephanie: Sort of. Mostly on my legs. 

Lucas: I…what?

“Izzy, ever feared someone put a camera somewhere and was spying on you? 👀”

Isaac: More like thinking someone was going to break into my house through the window and take me away. So I always had heavy curtains over my windows. At least before I got into the liquor.

“Since it's the 200th chapter lets do another one of these, do you or the characters have anything to ask us readers? Do you have anything you would like me to draw? ( If you don't that's OK too)”

Death: I think Nutty might’ve asked this before, but is there anyone here that you like the best? Any one of us you can’t stand?

Nutty: What was your favorite show or cartoon when you were younger? Has it ever influenced your writing style? 

Adrik: Any of the characters you wanna know more about?

Otello: Any old retconned ideas you wish stayed in the Final Cut?

Nutty: as for if there’s anything I would like you to draw, I’m not sure. Maybe Petrov or Romano art. I don’t have anything specific though, I apologize. Oh, there’s a question. Do I apologize too much? 

Ask #200

Asks by Human:

“What does Arman think of men of other races? He doesn't mind the women for ... reasons, but what of men?”

Nutty: I don’t think I’ve really thought of it or talked with the others about it. Im going to make a little placeholder detail and say I don’t think Arman would care, since he isn’t discriminatory with women. I think he’d just like anyone he can control. 

“Wait, what would he think of femboys?”

Nutty: Most of the older ones, like Arman, adrik and Vincent would think they were women at first glance, so I think Arman might not discriminate that, either.

“Also Kira, Yulia, don't know if I have told you this, but he is into men too.”

Kira: Ugh…

Yulia: I never expected that…

“I was going to ask how do you like media where the cast of characters is basically just a bunch of horrible people, but then I remembered you were getting into Warhammer, lol. Hows that going?”

Nutty: it’s been a bit since we talked about it, but it was pretty interesting what we’ve spoken of.

“Please tell me people killed by lightning get those cool lightning scars in the afterlife 🙏🥺”

Nutty: I haven’t thought about that too much, maybe in their full spirit forms. That one can be open to interpretation. 

“Do you have those drawn personas for your friends too? I don't mean like Raz, I mean like the cat thing you use as your profile picture. Did you ever imagine them for me and Can't pick?”

Nutty: I have. Zinta’s is a Tiger, Wingbeat’s is a dragon, Bugsie’s is a cat like mine, and I have a couple other friends joining the cast as vas, artists and writers I need to make personas for. I haven’t thought of some for you and can’t pick despite you guys technically being new cast members as well as readers(I consider you guys as such since you guys have come up with lore that we’ve canonized, like Dimitri), but if you guys give me a favorite animal, a color scheme and some favorite fandoms, I can make personas you guys can use. 

“I ask cause whenever I talk to you I picture you as that persona you use as a profile pic. How do you even picture me and Can'tpick's when talking to us? The thing that pops into my head when I think of him is an image of his username in the comments section. Is that what pops into your head too when you think of us since you have basically nothing more to work of off? Or do other people not have images of people or something relating to those people pop into their head when thinking of them?”

Nutty: I don’t think I have. I’ve wondered what you guys might really look like but visual associations, not very much.

“Do characters with sensory issues have problems with them when in combat? Like for example if someone sensitive to loud sounds heard a loud sound while fighting, would that cause their performance in combat to suffer? And how much of a problem would it be? I know it doesn't bother Adrik, but what about the rest? Would their enemies trigger them on purpose if they knew?”

Lucy: Sometimes bright lights mess with me. Messes with my Dad, too.

Ivan: I don’t like loud noises. Takes my mind off of things, but it also makes me more aggressive, so, plusses and minuses. 

Stephanie: Just my perfectionism and when too much is happening at once. And grainy stuff…yeah, that’s freaky. 

“What are Stephanie's sensory issues? I just remembered I never asked.”

Stephanie: humming sounds mess with me a little. You won’t hear that in combat. Grainy shit, like sand…that sucks. I don’t like dangling from anything, not even my bed. Stuff like that.

Ask #201

Asks by Human:

“Do you draw your own comic panels or do you get them from somewhere? Cause I have seen a few comics with same comic panels. I don't mind it, I'm just curious if I am right.”

Nutty: It’s a bit of both. It’s a digital deal that technically sets them up, but I digitally cut them-if I do another drawing tutorial I can show you. I don’t draw them myself, but I do use a digital deal on the site I draw on, and sometimes I just save my art, erase the art and then recycle the panels. That’s why in the comics they sometimes twin. 

“Have you finally watched Avatar? I ask cause I think there is a character you would be particularly fond of 🤭👀”

Nutty: Not yet, but I still wanna! (Said the same way as “I’m not, but I still don’t wanna!”)

“How often do you think of your story and lore for it? Cause you sometimes come up with a lot of lore pretty quickly.”

Nutty: That’s one of the main things that occupies my brain. The way lore is made goes two ways: one is, When I get ideas, I pitch them to the others, and then we come up with more ideas, which ones we like as they are, which ones can be modified or detailed more, and what is going to be scrapped before it gets written. Either that, or I will get fixated on a certain character or concept and then snowball different ideas to demo or throw in, and some I just make and casually write it in before demoing. Sometimes I demo it to an AI bot for practice reactions or imaginary scenarios before me and my friends come up with the official scenes . Otello’s backstory is an example of this. I was already making stuff for it a few days before I told Zinta about it, lol. So, usually, I’ll come up with a ton of ideas and then demo them all to the others, and if they agree with the ideas, we add them and vice versa. If they pitch an idea I agree with and we all like, it makes it in, such as Lucy being Andre’s sister, that’s Zinta’s handiwork. In fact, a lot of Lucy’s backstory is. Zinta is basically my co-writer in terms of lore and world building. So, we act out the ideas and modify them, and that’s how the story is made. I think I’ve reiterated this a bunch, XD.

“How has life been for Baron in the world of the dead?”

Baron: Shit. I wanted to come here and find Mum and Lucas, and where do I end up?! All alone, anyways. Lose lose situation there. On the plus side, though, the teenagers here like me, I’m a good drummer and street fighter, and girls like me~.

“Where did he even end up?”

Nutty: I’m thinking Baron is a Fallen, obviously not as low as Isaac or adrik, but he’s not exactly high up. Baron has done some stuff. 

“Is Otello torturing Mik still cannon?”

Nutty: Oh, yeah, that’s not going out. He’s going to be the main villain in one of the future arks. Also, it’s not so much torturing-it’s still abusing, though. 

“Lola, did you ever actually like Lucy? And what did you like about her?”

Lola: I did at first. I liked how feisty she was. She wasn’t submissive, and back then, she had heart in her job. Mostly for her son and brother’s sake. 

“Do you ever feel guilty for cheating on people?”

Lola: Not really. I get bored very easily. 

“Hiiiiiiii Leo! How are you 😊? *Pinches cheek* do you like being the second most responsible person in your new group? Aww, you seem so sweet! Here, take some nice candy from a stranger!”

Ivan: I wouldn’t do that Leo-

Leo: Thank you! I doing good! (Nibbles on candy) Don’t worry papa, it’s candy bar!  Ivan: I will if it’s poisoned. Hey, is that poisoned?! 

Ask #202

Asks by Human:

“Can Razzie turn their head 360°?”

Nutty: Razz can turn its head 360 degrees. It’s one of Razz’s demon abilities. Its real name is also Milenko or Mil. Razz is going to be a nickname given to it by its father and siblings.

“In a chapter of head canons fic you've said Stephanie has paranoid tendancies that drive Lucy insane sometimes. What paranoid tendancies does she have? Besides checking locks constantly and the like. Also, how much does she do stuff like that? Or is it the "has anyone placed spy cameras around my room" type of paranoia?”

Stephanie: Just the way my mind warps things at times, I will think something is out to get me. I can’t have curtains up, I’m always afraid people are angry at me or frightened of me, or I think I’m too cruel, when I actually am a bitch I think I’m always like that. I’ll always have to know where everyone is. I need to check up on the babies. I’ll check under my bed in the winter to make sure there’s no holes in the house where mice have gotten in, stuff like that. 

“Lucy, do you ever just grow yourself a claw to open a mailbox?”

Lucy: I’ve done that. Stephanie always asks me how that doesn’t hurt. The dumbass keeps forgetting her keys! 

“If Dmitri has a sensitive scalp, does he have trouble with combing his hair?”

Dmitri: I’ve had to acquire a tolerance for brushing it, but нет, I don’t like it. So sometimes, I take forever just to brush my hair because it hurts. People wonder why I go to bed at 8:00 and wake up at 4:45 on workdays. Makes me ever so grateful I do not have my father’s hair. (Shudders) the man could hardly get a brush through his hair!

Ask #203

Asks by Human:

“How's stuff with Can'tpick? Haven't asked about him in a while. Any new lore?”

Nutty: Things have been good. We’ve been busy and so haven’t talked much, but when we have, it’s been pretty good.

”How's your book going along?”

Nutty: Unfortunately, I haven’t worked on that one in weeks. Maybe even a month or two. I will try to get that finished though, one of these days.

“What do Lucy and Copper like to do together?”

Nutty: I may have to flesh this out more with Zinta since he basically made Copper, but I assume besides the bar and driving around with Theo, among other less innocent things, I remember Zinta saying something about cage fighting but I don’t know if he still wants that for them.

“I have asked what body would a trans person have in the realm of the dead and you said it would depend if they had changed it or not while they were alive. Are there at least doctors who can perform gender affirming care in the spirit realm?”

nutty: I actually haven’t thought of that. Maybe there would be. It would make things more comfortable. 

“How would Lucy look as a dude?”

nutty: probably similar to how she looks now, just with less feminine traits and a stubble and slight goatee. 

“Do Stephanie, Lucas and Isaac sometimes have trouble with recognising wether the danger is real or if they are imagining it?”

Stephanie: We’ll, sometimes I can’t always catch when someone is a bad person until they do something.

Lucas: Not really. I mean, my best friend tended to be a juvenile delinquent, I don’t think I’d catch onto danger until it’s blatantly obvious.

Isaac: All the time…that’s part of why I got into drinking, among the other things. My mind is messed up.

Ask #204

Asks by Human:

“Stephanie! How does it feel to be the type of person to always try not to burden others with your mental health struggles even though they would gladly help you? Cause I can't relate at all. I'd whine to the high heavens and back about the mildest inconvenience my dumbass brain caused me to anyone that would listen. You're a much nicer person than I am.”

Stephanie: I try to tell people…about the smaller things. I can go on and on about that F I got in third grade, but I haven’t said a word about Lacey kidnapping me and dying. Or about getting smacked in the eye with an ice ball Dmitri formed. Or about watching my first and currently only boyfriend leave me because he had no choice. 

“Also did little Milo (Steph's son as far as I remember) inherit her anxiety, OCD and autism?”

Adult Kioku: He’s so much like his mother, it’s kind of frightening. He worries about everything…and he stims a lot. He’s also like me in the aspect of his worrying. I worry, too. That’s how I know how to work with Stephy. 

“Milo, how's Stephanie as a mom? Does she listen to you? 😁 I hope the trauma doesn't cause her too many challenges in parenting. Or overall adulthood.”

Milo: My Ma? She’s great. She’s very supportive of me and holds me accountable for wrongdoing. She listens to my side of things, but she still gets very anxious. Isn’t that suppose to be Pops? She can be a bit…at least I feel she’s a little overprotective at times. She watches around me like a hawk. But Grandma and Grandpa do, too. Ma says that Grandma Louise acted just like her when my mom was a kid. Didn’t make my grandma trust her and my aunt any less. Makes sense. My mom holds my grandparents in very high regard. My mom tends to get startled very easily, and she always looks exhausted. She doesn’t let me engage in fighting with the rest of the family yet. She says someday. When? I’m twelve. The same age she was when she got her powers. 

Adult Kioku: You haven’t gotten them in full force yet. When they fully come in, we’ll talk.

“Would Milo go to a normal school or be some form of homeschooled?”

Adult Stephanie: Well, me and Kio spoke about it. He’s currently going to a normal school, because we are doing him like my parents did me. He goes to a normal school until he grows into his powers. Then he decides if he wants to stay in normal school like I did, or if he wants to do homeschooling. 

“Ao3 fanfiction curse got you yet? Cause this year has literally been the worst one of my life. Why am I catching strays, I just occasionally do fanart T-T.”

Nutty: AO3 fanfic curse? What’s that?

“What's your favourite and least favourite one of my works now? (If it's a tie, you don't have to pick just one)”

Nutty: I don’t dislike any of them at all. My favorite has to one of the Kira ones(she’s doing that one pose), or that animatic of Vince and Otello. The lowest ranked one, while I loved them, is probably the one with Natalia on Adrik’s lap. I obviously don’t dislike it, not even a little, it’s mostly due to color differences. I am not going to harp about it, lol.

“Man, haven't done this one in a while. I hope you had a nice month cause I found out I probably witnessed child abuse 💀.”

Nutty: I’m sorry, WHAT?! Where’d you find that out?!

Ask #205

"What's Stephanie's favourite musical? I remember you mentioning that she has one."

Stephanie: I like SO many. But, I think I would have to say Oliver! I love the music and characters. Either Annie, Mean Girls or Hairspray are close second.

"You said you thought you had anxiety, but figured it was probably just your autism, is it the same for OCD?"

Nutty: probably.

"What kinda haircut would Lucky have?"

Nutty: I would say the same hairstyle as he does back when he was Lucy. I think it is a fairly neutral hairstyle.

"How do you draw fat characters in your artstyle?"

Nutty: not very well, XD. I try to draw characters that are on the chubbier side broader than the skinny characters. I think I want to make all the bodies more accurate to what they look like, tho. Most of the characters have gone vivziepop mode and are incredibly skinny. 

"How severe would Stephanie's PTSD be after all the adventuring? Cause some people have it so bad they end up on disability."

Nutty: probably had enough to a point of causing herself harm. One idea we've talked about is Stephanie picking up a secret vaping habit when she got older, mostly to cope with what happens to grigori. I also think she'd work herself way too hard to the point of weakness. She still tries to downplay it, acting like her nightmares are normal.

Ask #206

Asks by Human:

”How does void feel about his evil children? Like, he is abusive towards the ones who don't do what he wants them to, but how is he towards the ones that do? Is he like, "you don't defy me, so you don't get to eat dinner", or "here is an ice-cream for burning that orphanage, Vortex"?”

Nutty: Kind of. It’s very obvious who his favorites are. For the most part, Void doesn’t treat them like his children, they’re more like his soldiers and projects, hence some of them having inhuman names(Calcite, Abyss, Vortex, Cobra, Nebula, and Akuma). His favorites are Abyss, Vortex, Nebula and Akuma since they are the full bloods and the most willing to do as he says. He’s the “closest”, however, with Akuma since they are the most similar. Since they are his favorites, he gives them free rein to do whatever the hell they want, while trying to make the other six(seven sometimes with Dolores)bend to his will. 

“Are there male succubi? Or in this case incubi?”

Nutty: There is. Technically Vortex is an incubus, since his and Abyss’ mother is a succubus. So I’m possibly considering one of those two’s abilities would be seduction. I also temporally contemplated the idea of one of Vincent’s…ahem, whoopsie siblings being part incubus as well but it wouldn’t fit in the story much at all, it would just act as something to reinforce the idea that Otello was a rampant womanizer. 

”Are Alex and Mil trans or can demons just be born without a sex?”

Nutty: They’re basically non-binary/agender respectively. Demons could be born without a gender, but those two are partially human so they’d still have a gender. I’d be an Interesting concept for void to possibly dead-gender them, too. Long story short, Void is VERY sick. These were once again details my friends initially suggested for their respective characters. Also, Alex may not appear as much in the story since I haven’t really been able to talk much about the character with the friend who helped me create them, and I don’t feel to comfortable writing with the character when I don’t have immediate permission. 

Ask #207

Asks by Human:

“Is it part of your artstyle that glasses look as if they are glued onto the head, or is it just you drawing them badly? Or does little Stephanie have those glasses that are attached with an elastic strap like water goggles? Also what happend to her glasses in the mean while?”

Nutty: Gee, thanks. (XD just kidding, it was hilarious) But jokes aside, probably a bit of both. I’m not that great at drawing glasses, but it also fits the style. Stephanie’s glasses are normal, she didn’t have the strap on them. As for what happened to her glasses, I’m thinking somehow her powers caused her to no longer need them, but at the same time, you’d think it would eventually work on Rolfe, too, as well as Jean, Lucy and Louise, so I might have it be either something strictly with the idea that only the leaders get that, or maybe she grew out of her prescription and no longer needed them, or, possibly the most realistic option, her dumbass just chooses not to wear them. I’m going to possibly most likely pick the leader idea, because maybe due to being a leader, she needed keener senses. 

“How does Mil feel about necromancy now?”

Mil: I’m sort of mixed on it. I would rather only use it for emergencies, if I think someone is in dire need of it, but if I get nervous, I accidentally hurt them. I’m happy I have it, but at the same time ashamed. Some of the dirty looks I've gotten over that shit. That and my sperm donor decides that’s all I’m good for.

“Did he ever play a prank on someone using necromancy? I originally thought he wouldn't, but if he had done it so many times, he probably stopped being so disturbed by and since it's not going away, might as well play with it a bit.”

Mil: Well, I used to pull small pranks on my sister, Abyss. She hated it. Vortex didn't mind it, though. Still, my brothers and my sister Dolores were all like, “hey! Stop! You’re scaring the shit out of me!” 

“Also wait, I don't think I got it, does he like puppet them, or are they like zombies doing their own things?”

Mil: More like zombies, I’d say. I practically reverse their death, so they can kind of do whatever they want. Don’t worry, though, they don’t eat brains, most of them, if they are decayed, I can sort of reverse the decay to some degree. They just look slightly grayer is all. 

Ask #208

Asks by Human: 

“This might be a bit messed up, but have you had any experiences with abuse? I don't believe only abuse victims can write about abuse or anything like that, just want to know for... God damn, there is no easy way to phrase this, I guess accuracy reasons. If I can learn something from this reasons? Is that better??? I hope to God that you know what I mean and that you don't hate me for asking this. (If you don't know what I mean, ask me, this is one of those situations where a misunderstanding can cause problems l) Also if it's something you don't want to answer for whatever reason, you don't have to.”

Nutty: No, I haven’t been abused. I don’t know what you mean by accuracy reasons if you mean the depictions are inaccurate or too accurate, but the way it is portrayed is based off of experiences from people I know irl as well as some research ive done on the subject to enhance accuracy. So, if you mean uncanny accuracy, that’s why. If you mean it’s inaccurate, I apologize for the inaccuracies and will try to portray it better. Of course I don’t hate you for it.

And onto the more lighthearted stuff:

”Since people are already dead in the spirit world, does a good number of them just go crazy with alcohol, drugs, cigarettes, sweets, etc; basically anything that would have killed you or been unhealthy in the living world?”

Nutty: oh my god, yes. That’s how the Personifications kinda do their thing, too. Adrik has also had moments where he smokes like a freight train to cope with his guilt. 

“Also since it obviously doesn't kill them, can it change their appearance? Can you get fat cause your bottomless pit of a stomach only held back in the living world cause you didn't want to die from clogged arteries?”

Nutty: No. usually whatever unhealthy things happen when they're alive don't apply. This is because those symptoms usually lead to what can kill them. They can manage getting healthier, though. 

“Stephanie, ever got bullied? (If this was already mentioned, I am sorry)”

Steph: I have before, yes. Nobody wanted to believe me when I told them about the pendants. Got nitpicked for my autism every now and then, too. But mostly for the pendant thing.

“Sonny! Not a question, rather a request. CAN YOU GET OF OFF ME A BIT AND GO BOTHER SOMEBODY ELSE?! I need to do work dude 😭😭😭, I'm like a week past the deadline.”

Sonny: I’m so sorry, Human. I could try to lay off, but next time I show up, don't let me in if you are working. I hate to mess with people like that. It was an issue as it was for me when I was alive. Real bummer if I did it to someone else and they let me. 

Ask #209

Asks by Human:

Who are the other YouTube channels under "featured" on your channel? I know who Zinta is, but are others people you work with too?

Nutty: the one with the orange cat is my friend and one of the ones who works with me. The others are just friends of mine who I support. I need to update bc I have more people involved. 

"Sonny, can I be the new sloth personification when you quit? I promise, I'll make the world more productive by being too lazy to do my job."

Sonny: Hmm, I can talk to Death and Miss Nature. Lemme see what I can do, Flower Child.

"What would Stephanie think of Steven universe (the character) and Charlie from the Hazbin Hotel? Now I want to see them meet."

Nutty: She'd love them! I don't know as much about SU as I do HH, but I can see them getting along. It'd be fun to draw a crossover but I'd struggle with the art styles. I've tried to draw the vivziepop style but when I am deliberately trying to draw it it doesn't look good. I tried to draw vox as a human and it didn't turn out how I wanted him to. Charlie and Steph act so much alike, so they'd get along.

"What does Stephanie think of babies? Both human and animal ones.

She strikes me as one of those people to rescue injured animals of the street and try to help them."

Steph: I love babies. I have gotten good at taking care of them, too. I like animals too, but I can't just take them all in. I'm soft for cats and dogs.

"How tall is she?"

Steph: 5,8.

"How do animals look in your art style? Is it the same as irl or is there some stylised version?"

Nutty: I try to draw normal animals in a slightly more realistic style, bc I can actually pull them off. However due to the design they still have a certain look to them.

"Are you a Christian Nutty? (I'll 100% understand if you don't want to answer)"

Nutty: I probably shouldn't be saying but I am. Don't worry, I would never push it onto anyone. But that is why there's a few references in saf. I do want to make the Spirit Realm concept more ambiguous, though, but so far, the only storylines in religion I know are obviously Christianity, and then Greek, Norse and Native American mythology, which I also implement. Why do you ask? I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable.

[yermes]

Also do you do readings currently? For free I meant. I wanted to ask someone about this weird situation. I have doubt on this person that maybe they could be the one, cuz I feel I love them unconditionally without doing anything. The one strong sign I had about them was, I was talking to this one friend of mine who's spiritual. We were basically talking about love, relationships and soulmates and twinflames. I never told her about this person who I have feelings for. And she gets a dream next day about me that I'm telling her that this person is my twinflame in her dream. This is not only the one sign but had many more. And the general tarot readings also resonated alot.

Plot twist: I haven't met or talked to them yet. But I know who they are. There might be some past life connection according to previous tarot readers I went to.

What do you feel about this? I would love to hear your opinion!

🐱~

I hate to do this to you but the idea of a twin flame was an egregorical idea created by a new aged cult leader in the 1970s which popularized and became a new aged idea based upon an ancient greek myth. While I think new ideas in the occult and interesting and as a chaos magician I do love innovation I think the concept of twin flames get thrown around a lot by scammers and frauds. Im not sure exactly who you spoke to so and I hate to be a hater but its perfectly normal to have a crush on someone you haven’t spoken to. But while I think that the idea of a twin flame can be kind of a quack idea at times I think the real validity to the statement is many people have a hard time finding divinity in self and oppt to find divinity in others as a type of projection almost. while I think its human nature to want to turn towards wholeness and somehow a s/o or others are thrown in for ideas of individual spiritual awakening and wholeness I do not think they are needed. I think what you are describing is a projection and a crush people are drawn to each other for a plethora of reasons and I would feel out all of the mundane first before jumping into anything magical.

For a reading I got a mountain and a key I think you have some type of block or distress or some kind of issue in your life ATM and you see this almost as a solution, though not quite a solution but an escape. I think you should try talking and getting to know this individual first again we are drawn to people for many reasons most of them being quiet mundane. I think I would try talking to them and using maybe do some self reflection to understand the draw if you are interested.

I know this is psychological paradigm coded and it’s probably not what you want to hear but like yeah.

[lilkatzz-alt]

the following is a work of fiction based of a tweet that made me angry. cw // delusions , vent

I very rarely commission art anymore. I make all of my money by drawing for others, and it all goes to bills. But once, just this once, I had an opportunity. An artist I like with a cartoony style befitting of my character discounted their comms just enough that I could justify supporting them. After all, I can't really feel guilty about a luxury purchase if it's cheap and helps someone else, right?

Communications were smooth sailing; I gave them my ref and payment and they told me their turnaround time. They seemed really nice and even told me they liked my art ;w; (they didn't follow me back though but it's fine haha). It's getting pretty close to the deadline, so I'm really excited to see what they did with my character.

I'm just scrolling Twitter right now and... oh! Message badge! I kind of expect it to be a client, but it's them! The artist! My art must be ready!

"Had a blast working on this ^^ Thank you for commissioning me!"

The sentiment was followed by a link. I clicked it, and was met by my character. But....

Why is the mouth blacked out?

It almost looks like some sort of rendering error. I mean, it's FULL 000000 BLACK with no details. It's supposed to be open and happy, but it's just the silhouette of the expected expression.

My first thought is that I've slipped into an alternate reality, one where this is normal! Or maybe I actually asked for this? Did I ask for the mouth to be blacked out? No, I wouldn't do that... That's illogical. I don't feel so good.

"Hey!" I ask them, "Do you know what's going on with the mouth?"

The seconds seem to stretch on. I need an answer before my mind begins to act up.

Typing...

"I'm sorry? I don't know what you mean. Are you unsatisfied with the piece?"

That's. Not good. What. Why-

I look back at the piece.

The eyes are big and round, so bright and happy. The cheek fluff is big and had amazing highlights. Everything is clear and done with purpose. But the mouth... It's like someone cut it out with a lasso tool. If the artist didn't do it, then..... Then I must be going crazy.

I quickly navigate to my character's toyhouse page. Am I hallucinating? Will the other pieces have a problem too? No, they're all fine. My sweet summer child, staring back at me hundreds of times over, mostly renditions from years past. She's happy, and she's okay.

I quickly attempt to rationalize. This can't be a computer glitch; I don't know much about computers, but I know this. It can't be a hallucination; I don't actually experience those, I just fear that I do. So then....

Is the artist lying?

If this is a joke then it's not funny... my heart rate is elevated, it's practically psychological assault. I message them again.

"Here's what I'm seeing on my end. You don't know anything?" Attached is the same photo they sent me.

No response.

I start to hit the arms of my chair to keep myself busy while the anticipation eats me alive.

Suddenly, the worst possible outcome:

"You can no longer send messages to this person."

The tears start unprompted.

"nononononononono they're lying they did this they hurt me i DIDN'T EVEN GET MY ART. WHAT GIVES?"

My dog approaches me and lays her head on my leg. She knows when I'm in distress, but I'm not in any mood to be comforted. I ignore her and frantically swap to my alt account to check the artist's profile. And it looks like they've started causing quite a scene.

"I’m on my knees Begging y’all to PLS add an open mouth view on your ref sheets OTL Doesn’t have to be complex! Could even be a disembodied tongue and single tooth. PLEASE JUST PUT IT SOMEWHERE I hate having to guess the colors and most likely get it wrong 😖"

Wh- They didn't-

I check back in our DMs. I had given an older ref because it had fit the style better. On closer inspection, no tongue ref.

"Her tongue is just pink.... how hard would it have been to ask...."

I refresh.

"if you give me a mouth-less view ref sheet, I’m going to passive aggressively color any open mouths on commissions pure black. That’s it. And not even off black so u can see the lines. FULL 000000 BLACK. NO DETAILS Check ur refs :U"

P- PASSIVE AGGRESSIVELY?????

I'm in shock. They thought that not delivering the product I paid for, blocking me, and scaring the SHIT out of me was a form of PASSIVE aggression????? And they say "check ur refs" like this is some sort of PSA? Like we're supposed to want to LISTEN to them after being blatantly threatened with vandalized art? I'm furious. I'm furious and baffled, but at least I'm no longer scared.

At the end of the day, I'm just happy the artist told on themselves so that no one will commission them any time soon.

A refund sure would be nice though.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Reader | Till Death Do Us Part? pt. 3

type: angst warning(s): depressive thoughts, gloomy, mentions of war, mentions of death and loss word count: 1.9k words summary: based on this request: Azriel is shattered over the loss of his mate, his life no longer makes sense until one day when he sees her again. He cannot believe his eyes–this is his mate. Only problem she does not remember him or what they once had and moreover is now part of his sworn nemesis’ court–the Autumn Court. 

masterlist

—all rights reserved—

“I don’t understand,” you breathe, your forehead laying in furrows. What could he possibly be referring to?

“You really don’t remember at all?” The spymaster’s voice is so stern, so empty of warmth. It feels like he is crumbling inside and you feel like you are the reason for it.

But what could you have possibly done?

“I think you confuse me for someone, Azriel.” It is your voice that draws tears to his eyes. He hasn't heard it in so long, but it is still so lovely, so beguiling, so beautiful — his absolute favourite sound in the world. 

“I do not.” “You do. We have never met and you claim to somehow know me. I think you might have mistaken me for someone. I am from Autumn, I have never been here. It would not make sense, Azriel.”

Azriel takes a step forward, somehow looming over you but not in a threatening way. “You are from here. You are not from Autumn. You are from the Night Court. This is your home, this is where you were born. Where we met and fell in love.” Fell in love. The words hang in the air between you, stretching out. The blood rushes in your ears at what he is insinuating. It cannot be possible. You draw in a deep breath, feeling like you are getting suffocated by all this information. You want to tear at your dress, allowing more air in your lungs. 

Azriel must have noticed your distressed expression because he reaches for you, but you quickly pulls your hands away. 

“You died in my arms and now you are somehow reborn.If only I could prove it somehow.”

You died? You think he is speaking in fever. The spymaster must have gone mad. 

“There is no proof. Because there has never been anything between the two of us. I don’t know you, Azriel. You are mistaking me for someone. Or you are going mad. But I am not who you think I am.” “But you are!” Azriel’s voice is loud, louder than you have expected it to be, hollowing in the room, bouncing of the walls. You shudder – not because you are scared, but because of the power in his voice. He seems like he really means what he is saying that…that disturbs you a little.

How could this all be possible? There is nothing like rebirth, is there? “I have a friend and she knows a lot about history, ancient history. And magic, the magic of the Cauldron, the magic of Prythian. We could ask her.” The tone in which Azriel has spoken his suggestion is hopeful. His eyes move over you, assessing how your body reacts to it. Often movements and what a person’s expression says speaks louder than what actually leaves their mouth. 

“I also need to talk to Eris,” you finally say after a moment of silence. Of course you need to talk to him. If Azriel really means what he says, Eris has to know. Maybe he can also help.

“You don’t need to involve him.” Azriel steps forward, eyebrows furrowed. HIs siphons glow when his power stretches our like a dark cloud.

You push of the desk behind you, stalking towards him. “You can’t tell what I can and cannot do. Eris is my High Lord and I have to and want to involve him. He has a right to know.”

The spymaster closes his eyes for a long moment. Then they open and he glances past you, his throat working on a swallow. He assess the office. Rhys’s office where he where questionings and meetings often take place. He looks at the wall of books, calling to every rational part in himself to convince him that he has to let you talk to Eris. He hates Eris with his whole being, but what you say is true – he cannot tell you what you are allowed to do and what not. It is your own decision, your choice.

“Now?” You are irritated and glance at him through narrowed lids when he finally looks back at you. Your breath once again catches in your throat when you are met with the warm hazel of his eyes, his features softer now. “You want to talk to him now?” “I think it is a good idea. I just disappeared with you that is not quite appropriate, you know? He has a right to know.”

Azriel slowly bows his head, extending his hand. “And then we will talk to Amren?” “Who is Amren?” This tears at Azriel’s heart but he does not let the pain show. You truly don't remember anything of your past life. “A friend” he says in a tight voice and watches how you take his hands, your soft palm brushing his callused skin, your hands perfectly fitting like they always did. 

He smiles a little to himself but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you, also not the light blush staining his cheeks. Voluntarily or not, you smile as well, loving how your small hand fits his big one. 

Azriel opens the door with his other hand and for a moment you question yourself why you so easily took his hand. Haven’t you always been rather reserved when it came to males? Never allowed any physical contact because something has always been holding you back? Now, whatever that thing has been, is no longer holding you back. Lets you old his hand without further thought and that does something to you. It makes you think. Think that he might be right. Could it be that you—

“Where have you been, Lady—“ Eris eyes fall to your and Azriel’s entangled hands and he stops, eyes going wide. You quickly pull your hand out if his hold which leaves both you and Azriel with a sudden cold feeling. You shudder slightly, something like pain and disappointment reaching you from—? From somewhere? There is this sudden tangy taste in the back of your mouth and you have no idea where it comes from. Yes, it probably is your own emotion but then…it is so strong and poignant like you are feeling someone else’s feelings as well. 

“We had some business to discuss, High Lord,” Azriel says in a serious tone, his expression stoic. 

“Something I need to discuss with you as well.”

Eris furrows his brows even further, but slowly agrees. 

**********

“His mate?!” You can’t really place if he is outrageous or just shocked. But Eris paces around in the same office you have just been in a few minutes ago. His hands are thrown up in despair and he looks at you like you have grown another head. “What the hell? Is this a silly joke you came up with? How should that be possible?”

“Azriel is summoning a female called Amren. Maybe she can clear everything up. But I don’t understand either, High Lord.” While you talk to Eris, Azriel has informed Rhys and Feyre, Cass and Nesta, everyone. Cass is currently picking up Amren while Azriel waits outside the office so you and Eris can talk. Later on he will bring you to the Moonstone Palace. 

“And he said you died.” “He did. And that I was reborn.” “That is not possible.” “I said the same, but he is so sure.” Eris shakes his head and moves closer to you. “Would you want it?” He swallows and examines your face. “Would you want it to be true? To be mates with him?” One shoulder lifting, you shrug because you have no answer. No and yes. Azriel seems like a genuine male, kind and respectful, but then he is a stranger to you. You don’t know him–maybe you do? You feel like screaming, your head pounding and blood rushing in your ears. This is too much, too overwhelming. Too much is happening, too much information is in your brain. 

You inhale a deep breath when you feel like fainting for a moment. You need answers and a solution to all of it, you know that if no answers was found that night it would suffocate you. 

For a moment longer you talk to Eris and he is a good male, so he agrees to you meeting up with Amren but only under the condition of him joining as well. 

Azriel winnows first Eris and then you to the Moonstone Palace. He wants to give you some time alone to think. And he wants to have some time alone with you to talk once again without the others.

“I am sorry I am putting you through all of this,” Azriel says when he appears again, the nest of shadows slowly vanishing from around him. He moves closer to you, extending his hand once again. “Are you alright?” “I am, but I just want the truth, to know what this is all really about.” Azriel nods and offers you a small smile that you return. When you take his hand he brings you closer to his body, keeping you safe when he shadow-winnows away. You draw in his scent, the smell to familiar it has your chest warming. You more and more start to think that he might have said the truth. He might be right. 

Your eyes widen when the shadows and dark mist disappears and revealed to you is the most beautiful palace you have ever seen. The Moonstone Palace. 

It is made of moonstone and is perched above an enormous mountain. The halls are wide and open with towering pillars and gossamer curtains, swaying in a breeze. 

There are no windows so magic must keep the palace warm. 

Your lips feel a little dry when your turn to Azriel with wide eyes. “It is beautiful,” you breathe and Azriel wants to say that you are beautiful, but he holds back. It wouldn’t be appropriate now. 

Loud voices already reach you when you near what is soon revealed as the dining room. You enter alongside Azriel and are met with Rhysand and Feyre, High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, and some other people. None of their faces rings a bell, but somehow they all feel familiar. This thought makes the content of our stomach sour because you have an inkling what that means. 

“Hello, Y/N,” Rhysand, High Lord of the Night, says and inclines his head. Your curtsy as well, eyes jumping from one person to the other. 

Feyre moves a hand over her mouth, inhaling a deep, shuddering breath while a female next to shakes her head in disbelief. 

“This is madness,” you breathe and feel a presence step closer to you. Azriel. But not only Azriel. Also Eris steps away from Rhysand and nears you. “I think we need some answers now,” your High Lord says, loud and commanding. His jaw is clenched and his eyes trail over your face, stopping at your eyes. “Y/N deserves answers and a solution.”

You look at Eris, offer him a small smile and then glance up at Azriel, eyes narrowing in on his when you feel something in your chest warm. Like some ancient power comes alive. Your body is filled with warmth, electricity flooding your veins.

It is then that a small female with raven black hair enters the room. She wears a feline grin on her lips, eyes aglow. “Hello, Y/N. Seems like someone has conquered death. I brought something for you.”

She lifts her hand, the rectangular canvas she is holding. May eyes widen, I cannot believe what I see. Because what I see…is me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess