#ignore my crappy coloring

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

(loosely based of the time my friends stole my phone and took 50 pictures)

pov your roommate is working but you found a funny cat video

just a quick lil doodle comic for @sunnyys-jarss's roommate au; it's really cool and if you haven't checked it out already do so, they're awesome and their ideas are amazing!

individual frames under the cut:

[crapimgay]

I drew this for @chiotri-loves-davekat

They don't know about it yet bc they're sleeping

Inspired by this post by @michaelnotholden

[thedrotter]

i saw this trend and it reminded me of Yuuichi okay i had to do it ... featuring Yuuichi's heart on the back: for once they get along on the topic of mayonnaise

[inmaki]

gojo showing off your back scratches to geto

( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .

contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)

everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.

a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.

there was only one thing ruining his peace.

all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.

despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.

"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.

right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.

great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—

"i fucked her!"

suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.

big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.

"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.

"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"

unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"

"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"

at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.

"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.

"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.

it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."

suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.

a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.

"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.

turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."

it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.

not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.

and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.

"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"

an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."

"huh. surprised you could last."

as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."

geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.

even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—

satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"

he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."

over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.

maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.

mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)

© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[lazywriter-artist]

Really cool uncle here to give you a bunch of dangerous weapons gifts

He’s cleaning out the armory- new year refresh and all- mortals can use custodes weapons right?

He’s so pretty…

Pretty pretty man….

Close ups

[ooftale]

‼️ FIRST POST OF 2025 BABY ‼️

And yet again ITS DIMENTIO !! EVERYBODY CHEER

YET yet again I drew dimentio for another gift exchange in the same server I've always done these for! This time it was for @/anotherwalnut here on Tumblr!

Anyway im pretty proud of this drawing actually,,, I'll let you know that I only colored the background Art that you see in Castle Bleck in-game, I drew everything except those, I found the things themselves on here! @/pianokantzart drew and posted these, saying they could be used by anyone! So I did because. You are NOT seeing me drawing those things. Never (plus they did them SOOO WELL look at them. They make my drawing 1000× better)

ANYWAY ignore some crappiness on the cubes and the probably impossible lighting in game as this place is surrounded by a dark void, I wanted to use nice lighting!!

[lunaxamans]

Sooooo I've been wanting to share this since December!

Ignore the crappy quality of the pictures, the wrinkles in The Boys, and the unevenness -- as you can tell my kitten - Rumi Moon -- kept trying to help me take these pictures.

I wanted to share because one of the potential prizes for @moonknight-events MK Bingo are one of these sweatshirts. A girl decided she did not want to Wait to see if she won bingo -- she wanted to sit in bed wearing one of her husbands' sweatshirts WHILE she wrote said Bingo prompts -- SOPE she bought herself the Spector sweatshirt, got the Lockley sweatshirt for Christmas from her sister, AND got the Grant sweatshirt from her best friend for Christmas.

In case this is still one of the prizes for MK Bingo -- I wanted to share that these are completely customizable, you choose the name you want, and the color of the text and the fabric. They range in size all the way up to Unisex 5X which are what these are. As far as the sizing goes, some sweatshirt colors run bigger than others. I'm a big girl and Marc's which is in the color "Ash" is super nice and roomy. Steven's and Jake's are a little bit more snug even though all three of these are Unisex 5X. They DO have more than just grayscale colors -- originally I was gonna get Steven's in "Sand" but they were out of that color in my size. I saw a beautiful Jake version with black fabric and purplish pink text. If I'm not mistaken you can even use like a hex code color of your choice.

I will say -- as you can see -- Marc's text in black fades pretty quickly. I have worn him the most cause he's the most Comfy so more washes of his, but it was noticeable even after the first wash. So beware that there is some fading that happens.

They're all SUPER soft and cozy and warm. So IF you're thinking this is the prize you want come the end of the MK Event, I can vouch that they are WONDERFUL. And if you're like me and want to go ahead and buy yourself one -- or three -- feel free to hit me up with any questions you might have.

At this point, I don't even care if I win Bingo now, I'm in it purely for fun and for the great prompts I was given.

All my love!

@spacecowboyhotch && @juneknight feel free to reblog this and/or send me questions you might have about the ordering process for the winner in April!

-blows endless kisses-

[opiopal]

(Alr gang so I technically use a situation/au I put my own mc in for this post, and is written in a way that my mc would be… however I WONT be using she/they for this, I will be using the usual they/them so you guys can enjoy this crappy angsty au in the pov of your mc as well)

can I share a concept/au I have for OM with you guys??? Cause I think it’s pretty cool if I say so myself,

hear me out..(and also sorry if this is already a concept, if it is I just haven’t seen it before lolol) a human becoming “infested” with sin when in the devildom.

now lemme explain:

basically, if a human is in the devildom for a long period of time, a particular sin will begin to fester and leach onto the human. It picks out whatever the human is feeling the strongest, and feeds into that. Kinda turning them into living embodiments of the sin.

now for the example of this idea I shall be using the au of my mc experiencing this, I will also be using the headcanon that devildom food isn’t very appealing to look at,(yes ik it just looks AMAZING in game- but I ADORE the hc of the food actually looking horrifying, and it also adds to the idea I’m about to type so I will be using it)

[[TW for those who may need it: this will involve descriptions of food, food avoidance, borderline ED behavior, attempt of consumption of other people/living creatures, neck injury, and vomit/throwing up, if you are sensitive to any of this PLEASE do not continue further. This WILL NOT be my usual silly or quirky post. ]]

(no it is not as horrible as I’m making it out to be in the TW, however I’d rather you guys assume the worst going in and then be relieved going out.)

Since mc had gotten to the devildom, they… haven’t really been eating much. its not out of rebellion or disrespect as luci claims it to be, but really its out of pickiness… back home they weren’t much of a picky eater, so they never really had this issue before! But all of the food was either an unnatural color, had a horrifying name, had a billion eyes and legs, or was still moving and squirming around! But- they didn’t wanna be rude and ask for something else when they’re only a guest, so they just.. eat what looks like wouldn’t eat them back and try to suck it up.

they’re honestly getting by on school lunches really, there was more options there, but the only thing they could even look at was cut fruit and different breads, so that’s what they ate. They filled up their plate with fruits and breads and just prayed that whatever meat or protein that was made for dinner was something they could stomach eating…

for days and weeks they were always hungry, it gnawed at them from the inside out, it was hard to focus on school, and despite being a fantastic student in the human realm they were pretty average at RAD. Because sitting in class or at the HOL or ANYWHERE AT ALL, all they could focus on was the growing pit in their stomach. as the school year progresses the brothers slowly begin to notice. Maybe mams tries to encourage them to try some ramen he got at the store, or levi offers different kinds of chips, which of course they accept and eat because it’s the closest thing to normal that they have access to. the most concerned out of everyone however, is Beel. He of course joins in on offering mc food and making sure they’re able to eat something, but as time passes he starts to notice something in them. At first he can’t describe it, but they seem.. off.

But one day mc just, suddenly seems to no longer have this worry about what they’re eating- in fact, they’ll eat just about anything! The first time they manage to completely finish a meal the brothers are of course ecstatic, and mc attempts to also be happy about it but they end up rushing off to vomit everything up in the restroom. They hadn’t eaten so much in so long, that when they had finished their plate it was just too much food for their body to handle. Along with that mc just couldn’t ignore the awful bluish hue the food was. Which all together made their stomach churn. But- after that, despite the brothers concerns, they’re almost right back in the kitchen to eat something else.

and this is how it goes for a while, mc ignoring the brothers concerns about their eating habits, and mc slowly beginning to just- eat and eat and eat. But of course their body just can’t handle the rate in which food is coming so they keep throwing up but they just can’t seem to stop. They’re just so so hungry. And they just can’t believe they went this long without something filling their stomach. Eventually they become nearly animalistic at dinner, often forgetting to use utensils and nearly biting anyone who appeared to be reaching for their plate. Really it felt like another Beel had moved in. And the brothers tried to joke about it, maybe attempting to hide their concern, but they could hardly ignore how concerning this behavior is.

One day is particularly horrible for Mc. They just can’t seem to eat enough. They had about four servings at breakfast and still felt painfully empty. They could hardly manage. Snacking in between classes hardly helped, and they often caught themselves spacing out at the people around them. it first started with mammon. Since he was always around they began to notice how… wonderful he smelled. Despite the fact that he was awfully scrawny his stomach and thighs had plenty of meat on them.. no what were they thinking? That’s totally insane!? Why would they even have these thoughts in the first place- but after their sudden intrusive thoughts, they started to scope out everyone they saw. Beel had a lot of muscle and would be hard to get their teeth through.. though a good steak knife would fix that. Besides his stomach area had plenty of amazing tender flabby flesh to work with. Levi had little to no muscle at all. And with how tall he was there was plenty of fat, just more evenly spaced out.

They couldn’t help but drool even at the sight of most of the brothers. Staring at them like they were roasted pigs.

then it finally happened.

a loud high pitched scream rang through the halls of RAD. Students rushing towards and away from the source flooded the halls as they either hid in classrooms or quickly exited them to see what was happening. Of course mammon and luci were the first two there, mammon having just been a classroom away and luci was simply just automatically rushing to break up whatever was happening. And there they were. mc had a student pinned to the ground with their jaw clamped tightly around their neck. Despite the fact that their human teeth were supposed to be nowhere near strong enough to break demon skin- they managed to use enough strength to dig straight in. They jerked their head around like an animal, attempting to rip the chunk of flesh out as the students nails desperately clawed and dug at mc’s shoulders and arms in an attempt to pry them off. quickly the two brothers run over and manage to get mc away from the student, blood quickly splatters onto the ground from both the student and mc, of course mostly from the student, thought the amount that mc spits out of their mouth was enough to make people believe they were secretly vampiric.

the brothers drag mc home and quarantine them in their room, only really allowing Beel inside since he 1: understood this level of hunger, and 2: could very well manage to restrain Mc if they got violent again. It was hard to be upset at them, they were crying and guilt ridden, constantly spewing out that they “didn’t know why they did it- they were just hungry and they couldn’t stop themselves- they don’t know what’s wrong with them-“ so, the brothers didn’t know what else to do rather then keep them home while solutions were being searched for.

thankfully, since the cast of OM is only stupid half of the time, they quickly managed to figure out what is happening and how to solve it. However it was hardly fast enough to avoid poor Beel from becoming covered in bite and claw marks from Mc attempting to eat him whenever he wasn’t looking, though thankfully, since he is a creature full of love, he managed to keep his cool and clam Mc down enough to eat something that isn’t him.

in the end, the brothers(and diavolo&barabtos) make sure that mc gets food that they can stomach, the student they had attacked thankfully made a full recovery(due to being a demon the injury wasn’t too fatal), and yippie!! Yahoo!!! Happy ending and more stuff for luci to loose sleep over!!!!

[pickingupmymercedes]

And just like the sun, we will rise - Lewis Hamilton

warnings: slight mentions of nudity, w14, Mercedes team post 2021, angsty

wordcount: + 1k

a/n: This is my first fic here. I have been reading somethings here for a while now, but never quite really had the courage to post. So, kind of doing something I never thought I would.

Please, do send me thoughts, notes, ideas, corrections, anything really, I would love to hear you guys.

You walked into the en-suite defeated, head hanging low, throwing your shoes, bag and computer in the nearest surface, deep breath finally leaving your lungs after what felt like a lifetime of holding it in.

You all went into Sunday on a high, Lewis’ pole felt like a dream finally coming true after 2 years. Your promise to him finally a reality. A light at the end of a very dark and twisty tunnel, at last, shinning bright enough to be followed.

But, like it had happened for the past 2 seasons, the race came and the car showed its true colors.

A meeting with Toto and the legal team of AMG got you stuck on track longer than Lewis, so a quick hug and hushed kiss before telling him to go rest was all you two shared in the very public and busy garage.

You got to your hotel only hours later and in need of a good shower, a crappy tv show, a snack and something to make the guilt less pungent. 

You found him laying peacefully asleep in the sofa set in the corner of your bedroom, still in the pants he left the circuit. His phone, open on Instagram, on his hand. After tough races he’d usually crash like that, especially the ones neither of you would return home the same day, that night in hotel rooms reserved to the both of you only, you and him and whatever it was that was weighting on your minds and hearts.

You lightly ran your fingertips in his arm, watching as his eyes fought to open and focus on you, a lazy smile spreading through all his features.

“Hey, go to bed”

“Hi there, stranger”

“Things took longer than expected, I’m sorry”

“It’s okay.” He mumbled while getting up and pulling you tightly into his arms the second he steadied himself, that was before he felt you stiffing up at his touch.

“Hey, you good?”

“Not really, but I’ll be better after a shower, promise.” You pleaded into his neck, cutting him mid-sentence, hoping he would let it go, just this once, and ignore the unbearable ability he had to read right through you.

You sneaked from those strong arms, with quite some resistance, and gave him a sad smile in return before heading to the quietness of the bathroom, the safety of the shower pouring scorching water on your skin until the prickling sensation numbed your mind.

He was so quiet you only really realized he had gotten into the shower with you when he cleared his throat behind you. You sighed; you knew he wouldn’t let it go that easily, not after today.

 “I can’t promise to have all the answers, but please let me in” his voice made even smaller by the sound of water hitting the stone flooring.

 “I got way in over my head” You whispered after a while, turning to him and letting him really see you for the first time since that morning. He was met with a serene look on your features, a certainty he was certainly not expecting.

“I promised you something I can’t physically give you Lew. I can’t guarantee the team’s going to be back in winning ways, I’m sorry, I really am.”

Your statement didn’t really shock him, he had contemplated that quietly a few times before. But for the first time since he’s met you were openly admitting to him, in the secrecy of that bathroom in a hotel somewhere, that you were giving up.

“Talk to me.” He knew how to handle with angry, moody, sassy, overjoyed, happy you, but his fiercely headstrong girlfriend giving up wasn’t something he was used to.

You had thought about that from the moment the w14 got beaten right after the first corner of the race and it had eaten at you for hours until you couldn’t hold it in anymore and had talked to Toto in between meetings. He didn’t look surprise by it, he didn’t even seem sad, he had known from the get go in 2022 Mercedes wouldn’t be able to breach the gap and give Lewis the title he’d been stolen, at least not in the time the AMG board had set for Lewis.

“We don’t know where to go from here, losing those 3 positions at the beginning just showed we don’t have a p1 car anymore. We haven’t had one in a while huh?! I – I’m not sure we’ll get one in time… for you.” You serenely put you realization before him, looking at his features and posture, trying to read his reactions before he shook his head and took the step to close the distance between you two, bringing you out of the water and into his naked torso.

“That title dream was lost in 2021 babe. I told you that already. I’m in the sport for something bigger, and we – I, I need you with me on that, okay?”

“Okay” You whispered looking up at him, the certainty in his features enough to get you by that night.

Hours later, in the mess of the sheets, his warmth and the first rays of sunshine signaled the worst was over, and the tattoo on his back made sure to remember you that someday you two would, eventually, still rise.

[saphiccarma]

Title: i loved you like the sun

Relationships: Reader/Natasha Romanov (One sided), Maria Hill/Natasha Romanov

Warnings: Brief/Vague mentions of abuse.

You gripped your backpack straps nervously as you stared at the new school. After just moving to Ohio, your family moving around constantly due to your father working for SHIELD, it meant another new school. That was nothing new, but still you hated the feeling.

Without a parent here to support you, you had to find your classroom on your own. Bright colors greeted you upon entering the classroom, and a bright, cheery teacher. This was the type of room you expected for kindergarten - the bright colors, motivational posters...all that good stuff-, but fourth grade seemed a bit old for that.

After being greeted by your teacher, who adorned circle glasses and had her brunette hair pulled into a low bun, you were sat in the corner with a blonde girl behind you and a red-headed boy, who kept picking his nose, next to you. Crinkling your nose in disgust, you settled in and awaited a lecture from your teacher who had too pitchy of a voice for your taste.

Throughout the lecture the girl behind you, you think the teacher called her Caroline, kept kicking your seat and catapulting spit wads at you. They fell the to floor silently, a few sticking to your hair. Once again, the bullying was nothing new.

After finally being released for lunch, you ventured towards the cafeteria with your lunchbox in hand. Scanning the area for a quiet corner you couldn't quite find one, the best place being a spot in the back occupied only by a blue-haired girl. You scanned the area one more time to make sure there were no more seats available for reluctantly heading over towards the girl. The blue-haired girl glanced up at you as you sat on the farthest end of the bench. She looked you up and down with green eyes, almost a blue-shade but still green, before looking down and doodling on her notebook.

Electing to ignore her, you plucked your lone orange out of lunch bag and scarfed it down - being the only thing you've eaten all day. The girl eyed you weirdly, making you realize you probably ate the orange like a rabid animal, but at this point you could care less.

"Do you need more food?" her quiet voice spoke up.

You whipped your head up to look at her with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.

"I- um- if you have some," your lips felt heavy when you tried to force words past your lips as her caring eyes gazed at you and passed over half a sandwich.

"Aren't you hungry?" you asked, "and thanks."

The girl shrugged, "Eh, you seem hungrier."

"Thanks," you mumbled, "My name's Y/N."

There wasn't a response for a long moment, before eventually the girl replied, "Natasha."

"Nice to meet you, Natasha."

<_____________>

Throughout the next few weeks, you and Natasha slowly became friends. Very awkward friends. You, being scared to make a friend for fear of having to move, and her being...you didn't actually know, she just didn't seem keen on making friends. Maybe she was just shy.

Your cheek ached subconsciously as you wandered into school the next day. The hand shapped bruise forming under you hoodie was a testament to the rough night you had, and the bruise on your cheek wasn't easy to cover up with makeup. Natasha greeted you quietly in the halls before narrowing her eyes at your cheek.

She grabbed your chin and turned your head side to side, "Are you wearing makeup?"

You slapped her hand away, "No."

With a huff you started walking away.

"I know you’re lying," she accused, "I can see the tiny little grains of makeup. Crappy makeup."

You exhaled through your nose, "I'm not wearing makeup Natasha."

Natash glared at you, making her annoyance clear, before stomping ahead towards class. You puffed up your cheeks in frustration before trailing after her. After taking your usual seat and pulling out your notebook, you glanced at Natasha across the room. Even though you could tell she knew you were staring, she always did, the blue-haired girl kept her head ducked and was doodling in her notebook. You decided to do the same, or you were planning to but the girl behind you kept chucking spit wads in your hair.

By the end of class, you are certain that at least three crumbled up, wet, paper balls had slid down your back. Snatching up your backpack and pulling out your lunch, you marched towards the cafeteria and took your usual seat. For the first time in a few weeks, you and Natasha sat opposite each other and didn't talk.

Just as you were about to eat the cookie you had been saving for a few days after receiving it from a family friend, your mother not allowing you any and you had to sneak this one, Caroline came and plucked it out of your hand.

"Hey!" you scrambled out of your seat to try and grab but the girl danced away with a taunting laugh.

"Give it back!"

Caroline shoved half of it in her mouth, chewing mockingly, before dropping the other half and squishing it with her foot, "Oops."

Your face burned red when you noticed at least half the cafeteria was staring, no doubt noticing your screeching. Just as you were about the sulk back over to your seat, a mop of blue hair shoved Caroline to the ground.

Natasha stood above her with crossed arms and a scowl firmly implanted on her face, "You owe her a cookie."

"No, I don't," Caroline contradicted.

"Yes," Natasha disagreed firmly, "You do."

Something in Caroline changed, you weren't sure what, but she nodded quickly before scrambling to her feet and nearly running away. Natasha turned towards you, her eyes glittering with concern.

"You, ok?"

"Fine." you responded, your voice curt.

"Are you made at me about earlier?" Natasha asked as you both took your seats once more, this time sitting a bit closer.

"Maybe," you shrugged, "I also thought you were mad at me."

"Oh..." Natasha trailed off and cleared out the air in cheeks, contemplating her response, "I'm not mad at you...Sorry."

You blinked owlishly at her before replying, "I'm sorry for being stubborn too."

She smiled at you, a small, genuine one and you smiled back. A small ache developed in your chest, one you couldn't quite place.

That was the only fight you ever had with her, and for the next two years Natasha would be your best friend. She would be your sun in the dark. 

<___________>

Overtime, you and Natasha hung out more. You read together at the library, went to the Starbucks down the street once a month to get drinks with allowance money, and sometimes you two snuck out of your houses and laid together in a tree staring at the stars. It was the same tree every time, this one near the school. You would both dress in your school clothes and bring your backpacks before sleeping next to each other in the tree.

"Natasha?" you asked one night after the first day of fifth grade, gazing at the stars through the leaves of the tree, "Do you think we'll always be like this?"

"Huh? Where'd that come from?" she turned her head to look at you and lay on her side.

"Uh- well-" you shrugged awkwardly, "Just thinking out loud."

Natasha thought for a moment before propping herself up on her elbow, "I doubt we'll be together forever. Isn't that what growing up is all about?"

"I guess," you murmured.

The two of you brewed in silence for a moment, you gazing up at Natasha from where she had propped herself up her elbow, and her looking down on you with kindness in her eyes.

"I don't think I want to grow up," you whispered into the dark.

"....neither do I."

Natasha shifted to lay down and you both casted your gaze back to the stars. There was that small ache in your chest again, one that made it feel like your chest was about to explode with some overwhelming feeling, but still you couldn't place it. Not after having known Natasha all those years.

"I wish we could be like this forever," you announced.

You thought you heard Natasha sniffle slightly before she replied, "Me too."

<_______________>

Despite being friends all throughout fourth grade and half of fifth grade, you and Natasha had never been to each other’s houses. Not once in the entire near two years of knowing each other had you gone to each other's houses. Neither of you brought it up. Group projects were done at the library or the park, you met up at Starbucks down the street. It was never mentioned why home seemed to be avoided.

However, you had met her mother - a brunette woman with stern eyes but a kind voice. She smiled at you and asked about your parents and your life. If you enjoyed school. If you father ever talked about his work (You didn't mention that he was nearly never home, and the times he was wasn't used for work). What your favorite color was. All the basic stuff. You decided you liked Mrs. Melina.

Natasha's little sister was with her the day you met her mom at the park. Her younger sister, a blonde who was named Yelena, was a bright girl with a toothy smile. She babbled to you about horses, one of her favorite animals, and her favorite TV shows, and how her daddy was going to take her on a big adventure one day. (You missed the way Natasha winced at that last one, and her eyes fogged over slightly.)

Then one day, Natasha invited you over with a hesitant smile, "My mom was saying if you and your parents wanted to come over for dinner next week...."

"Um-" you rubbed the back of your neck, "My dad isn't due to be back for a few weeks, and my mum works all nights." The second was a lie, your mother didn’t work.

"Oh," Natasha deflated slightly before brightening back up, "You can come over still if you want."

"I would love to."

There was that tiny little feeling in your chest that made it feel heavy with emotion as you accepted her offer, but you still couldn't place it.

With spring break coming up, you and Natasha didn't see each other as often, neither of you having excuses to leave the house. Despite that you were both determined for you to come over for dinner.

After practically buzzing with excitement you snuck out of the house, your mother passed out on the couch with her arm slung over her head, and made your way over to Natasha's on your bike. She had told you her address, so you were able to figure out where it was.

When you arrived, there was a new car in the driveway and a moving truck. Hesitantly you creeped up the steps and knocked on the door. It took a moment before it swung open to reveal an elderly lady with gold rimmed glasses and grey hair. She smiled at you kindly, but with confusion in her eyes.

"How can I help you sweetie?"

"Um..." you fumbled slightly before responding, "I'm looking for the Romanoff household?"

The woman tilted her head slightly before hollering back into the house, "Jaime!"

A young man, maybe a few years older than you came skidding into view, his hair disheveled, "Yes, grandma?"

"Have you heard of the Romanoffs?"

You nervously fiddled with your thumbs.

"Oh!" the boy perked up, "they were the family who lived here before us."

"Do you maybe know why they left?" you asked.

"No, sweetie," the woman glanced at you with pity, "I'm sorry if you knew them."

"Thank you," you whispered, "I'm sorry for wasting your time."

As you started to walk away the older woman stopped you and told you to wait. She walked back into her house for a moment, her grandson following, and it took everything in you to contain your tears to before you left. The woman came back with a baggie filled with chocolate chips and passed them towards you.

"Take care," she murmured, "Eat some more. You're looking skinny."

You thanked the woman profusely before hopping on your bike.

Tears streaked down your face as you biked back towards your house. Natasha just left . She left and didn't tell you. Natasha was your best friend and she left without telling you. That hurt more than your mothers punches did. For once, you thought you made real someone, someone you thought you could dare to call your best friends. Yet, she left without a word.

It was hard sneaking into the house without sobbing violently and waking up your mother, but once you made it took your room you collapsed into heaving sobs.

You had made friends before, but none as good as Natasha. She defended you, she gave you extra food, and you looked after each other. Then she just up and left. With a surge of anger to rushed to your feet and yanked all the photos of the wall of you too. You tore them down and threw them in the trash. All but one.

Carefully, you cradled one photo in your hand. It was your birthday - one of the only days your father visited. He heard about Natasha and offered to take you two out. You guys went to a trampoline park, and after being sweaty with messed up hair ate pizza and birthday cake.

This photo stared you and Natasha smiling wide toothy smiles, you missing a middle top tooth, and arms wrapped around each other. Cake frosting was covering your faces, and your father was laughing behind you - his hand on his stomach and the other holding a cake platter. The photo was taken by a family friend who dropped off the cake.

You tucked that into a drawer by your bed and decided you wouldn't think of Natasha Romanoff anymore. She was gone and there was nothing you could do about it.

<__________>

Deciding to take after your father, you joined SHIELD straight out of collage. With straight A's and a good word put in from your father, you got accepted immediately. You quickly climbed the ranks, being level five by the time you were twenty two.

Then you heard a name you hadn't heard in a long time.

"Bro-" one of your bunkmates and teammates, Connor, exclaimed, "did you hear about the crazy assassin they brought in? Apparently she's from this place called the Red Room and Clint Barton brought her in even though he was supposed to kill her."

"I heard she has over 50 assassinations," your other teammate, Carmen murmured.

After finishing the year of rookie training, you had been assigned four teammates. For the last three years they had been your team and bunkmates. There was Connor, Olivia, Marcus, and for a while Clint Barton was part of that. You were probably the closest with him, but you were all a team - and dare you say friends. Then Clint Barton got reassigned to Agent Coulson's team and he was replaced with Barbara, Bobbi, Morse.

"Clint said that he just couldn't kill her," you chimed in. Clint still kept in contact with you, texting nearly every day.

"Does anyone have a name?" Bobbi asked as she waltzed in wearing a lab coat.

"Woah!" Marcus exclaimed, jolting upright from where he sat upside-down on his bed, "Where'd you come from."

Everyone ignored him, per usual, before Connor responded, "Natasha Romanoff, well Natalia Romanova, but I heard she changed it."

Time seemed to slow for a minute. Natasha Romanoff...you had heard that name before. Natasha Romanoff.....

It came back to you in a rush.

A mop of blue hair.

A tentative smile, but still wide and cheerful none the less.

A girl standing up for you after you got bullied.

A photo you still kept in your safe-keeps box.

A sun shinning down on your really crappy life.

Nearly two years of friendship thrown out the window.

Natasha Romanoff, you best childhood friend. Really your only childhood friend. She was back and apparently an assassin. And in SHIELD.

Well this threw a wrench in your plans to completely forget about her.

<_____________>

Over the next few years you watched Natasha Romanoff climb the ranks of SHIELD, then you watched her become an avenger. Her hair was red now, so different from her short, blue mop of hair. Her eyes were greener, not the blue-ish green they used to be. Her features were more defined, obviously. No, you were not stalking her, but when your old childhood friend joins your workplace, anyone would keep up with what they were doing. Right? Right.

You and Clint still texted frequently texted, but he never brought up his Avenger friends, so you never brought up your old connection to Natasha.

When SHIELD crashed, you were lacking a job. Severely. That was your entire life. Ever since you dad passed a few years back, you had no home to go to. Your mom was out of the question, so that ruled out any family. However, Clint invited you over for Christmas, and you had been going for every major holiday since. Until he mentioned he would start bringing Natasha over, every year after that you made an excuse not to go. Clint was starting to get tired of it.

But regardless, SHIELD was crashed, and you couldn't go stay with Clint. The chance of running into Natasha were too high, and you didn't want to burden him like that. Then, after you barely scrapping by with rent on your new apartment, Clint texted you.

    Clint Barton - 10:27

      Hey Dummy, I found you a job

You pulled out phone before typing a reply back.

    You - 10:28

      Where?

    Clint Barton - 10:28

     The Tower. Tony's, really the whole team, is looking for someone to help run backend (SHIELD may have crashed but we still have missions) and do paper work for us (ever         since Tony hired Maria a few days ago, she's been on top of that). I can tell him I got a g'all for the job if your interested.

You hesitated. Working at the tower and running backend would mean you would have to interact with Natasha, but you also didn't have a choice. You needed that job because soon enough you wouldn't be able to pay rent.

    Clint Barton - 10:31

      Tony says he's willing to give you an apartment in the tower for free

Your reply was instant.

    You - 10:31

      I'm in.

<____________>

Moving into the tower wasn't difficult, you had minimal stuff - a few photos of your and father, clothes, plus your keepsakes box. You pinned the photos up in your room, a luxurious space with a floor to ceiling window on one wall, cream colored walls, a walk in closet, and bathroom attached. The clothes were placed in the closet and you shoved the keepsakes box under the queen sized bed.

At first you tried telling Stark it was too much, but he shook his finger in your face and said, "Too late. Besides I need you on stand by in case we need anything."

Clint told you that you should come to dinner tonight on the 98th floor - the communal floor and eight floors above you -, so that you could get to know everyone. You showered, now letting your hair smell of strawberries and lavender, and dressed in casual, but nice clothes. A black blouse and dark blue jeans with some flats. Work casual more like it.

When you arrived the entire avengers team was staring at you, all but one. Everyone was there, Clint, Tony Stark, Thor Oddison, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers. The only one missing was Natasha.

Rogers stood to greet you, "It's a pleasure to meet you miss..."

"Y/L/N," you introduced, "Y/N Y/L/N."

He stuck out his hand, "Pleasure to meet you Ms. Y/L/N. Steve Rogers."

You shook his hand firmly in return.

"Cap, when you're done being a gentlemen can we eat please?" Tony called out, his tone overdramatic.

Steve walked you over to the table and pulled out a chair for you.

"It is nice to meet you lady Y/L/N!" Thor exclaimed as he served himself a large portion of spaghetti, "I'm sure we will get along nicely."

You smiled kindly in return, "I'm sure we will," you glanced around once more, mainly for show before asking, "Where's Black Widow?"

"Oh, she's out with her girlfriend," Tony threw out casually, making kissy faces, "They're probably sucking face right now."

"Can we not at the table?" Steve asked as he elbowed Tony.

"I second that," Banner interrupted.

"I think it's quite sweet that lady Natasha and lady Maria find joy in each other!" Thor announced.

The entire time your head was realing. Natasha had a girlfriend..? For some reason that stung, deep and hard. It cut straight to your heart and laid heavy in your chest. Her girlfriend was Maria, you assumed Maria Hill. A feeling, akin to jealousy (but it couldn't be jealousy, no way. You didn't get jealous over relationships.), kindled in your chest. Maria had always gotten what you wanted. You had trained with her in the academy, she always had better grades. And now...she had your childhood friend. That was fine. You were fine.

Dinner went smoothly, you all conversing with each other. When you were done you excused yourself, cleared your plate, and said you wanted to get an early start tomorrow so you were going to turn in. Steve smiled kindly at you and offered to walk you back to your room. You declined and made your way back to elevator. Just as you were about the hit the up button the door dinged and out stepped Natasha Romanoff and Maria Hill.

For a moment your brain forgot how to function. Natasha wore a red, sleeveless shirt with a black skirt and matching heels. Silver earrings lined her ears, with a gold necklace. Her hair flowed down in soft waves and curled inwards at her shoulders. Her face looked like it was carved out of marble, her jawline perfect and cheekbones beautiful. Red lipstick highlighted her lips as she laughed at something Maria said, and her cheeks lit up in a rosy red.

Her eyes, green as ever, darted towards you stepping towards the elevator and her eyes widened.

The two of you stared at each other for a long moment, everyone else forgotten.

"Y/N?" she questioned, her voice no more than a whisper.

"Natasha." you greeted with a curt nod, "I was just going to my room."

You strode past them, the ache in your chest gone and filled with a familiar feeling - anger. Years of anger, anger at her for leaving when you needed her most, leaving without telling you, and not even bothering to look. You had searched for months, with what limited resources you had. And here she was, with a girlfriend and being an avenger.

Her voice called out to you as you stepped into the elevator and you saw her rushing towards you as the elevator door closed.

<____________>

Once you got to your room, you promptly pulled out your keep-sake box and dug around in it for a special photo. Pulling it out was the photo of you and Natasha on your birthday, your dad in the back. You traced your finger over the scratch marks, and all the little details on the photos. Tears sprang into your eyes as you remembered those days.

Natasha really was your only friend. When you needed her most, the days when your father left more, and your mother started drinking more. She was gone, and you needed a friend. You don't think you made friends after that, other your bunkmates and Clint.

But now she was back in your life.

God you were so stupid to accept the job. You should have just found somewhere else. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Y/N...?" a voice called through your door followed by a hesitant knock.

You didn't want to open the door, but if you were going to work here you might as well talk it out. With slow, heavy steps you walked over and opened the door a crack to reveal Natasha.

"Can I come in?"

You opened to door further to let her in and she took a look around.

"I see you haven't decorated much."

"I didn't have much to decorate with," you shrugged.

She sighed, "Y/N..."

"What do you want Nat?"

Natasha flinched slightly, "I get your mad at me. I left without a trace. I'm- I'm really sorry for that," she ducked her head, "but- I really didn't have a choice."

"Was our friendship even real? Or were you just using me to get closer to my dad?" you accused. You heard about her mission once she joined SHIELD. Natasha had been sent to Ohio, undercover, to gather SHIELD date.

"If you want it to be real," she mumbled.

"I do," you whispered, "but do you think it was real?"

"I think it was the only real thing about that mission."

You sighed and rubbed your forehead.

"Look- I want to start over. Re-do," she proposed and stuck her hand out.

You smiled at her familiar antics, anger forgotten (you never could stay mad at her), and stuck your hand out to shake hers, "Y/N Y/L/N"

"Natasha Romanoff," she smiled back at you.

<___________>

A few years later you were standing in a pale red dress, not pink, and holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Natasha Romanoff, do you take Maria Hill to be your bride?"

You wished Natasha would look at you the way she looked at Maria.

"I do," the red-head murmured.

"You may kiss the bride."

Cheers erupted as Natasha and Maria kissed, slow and soft. Natasha's white dress spilled out behind her, not too long, but still beautiful and matching Maria's black suit.

Everyone migrated to the ceremony and you tried to be happy for your best friends as they shared their first dance. Over the last few years you had become really close with Maria and Natasha, although you and Maria had a bit of a rockier start - even rockier than you and Nat. But you got along eventually.

That ache in your chest resurfaced, that one feeling you didn't think you would ever identify, but it was still there. Natasha twirled in her wife's arms as Wanda leaned over to you.

"I can hear your thoughts," she whispered, her accent thick, "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

Wanda gave you a look, "You love her do you not?"

And suddenly, that ache in your chest made sense, "I guess I do." You realized that feeling was love.

But Natasha was married and happy, so that would have to be enough for you.

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

i went out the other day and ran across some nice dresses so ofc i had to draw @sunnyys-jarss's roommate au boys in them! (If you haven't checked out their au, do so, they've got a fun blog at @ask-the-atwr-au!) Forgive me for the poor form of dresses and poses; I'm not very used to drawing people in formal clothing, so this was good practice!

(without color under the cut)

[kkukverse]

his dandelion

pair: Taehyung x athlete!reader (fem.reader)

genre: high school au, childhood friends au

warnings & ratings: mentions of injuries | fluff, angst

word count: 4k

author's note: happy birthday, winter bear.

You were both thirteen when Taehyung wanted to be your friend.

He sat next to you in art class, only with his dark charcoal pencil as his utensil. He drew peculiar lines and shapes and sometimes portraits. Your teacher loves them but you cannot understand it. 

Your teacher once said that he would’ve made an astounding art prodigy if his arts were to be seen by the world. She said his talent is hidden in this crappy little island. But Taehyung doesn’t really mind it, he once whispered to you, “I like it here, I don’t think my art is that big of a deal anyway. It’s not like I’m Van Gogh or something”

You laughed along because at thirteen years old, you never knew nor cared about a guy named Van Gogh. Taehyung used to tell you about that guy. Not wanting to look ignorant, you used all of your extra pocket money to get into Mr. Lee’s cyber cafe. Using the internet to find out more about the man Taehyung always talks about. 

You were confused, for someone who painted in vibrant color, Van Gogh is actually a sad guy. 

Unlike him. Taehyung was a vibrant kid and you noticed he only used dark colors in his paintings. You always paint everything in red and yellow. Those are your favorite, probably because of your field and track jersey. Since you keep seeing those colors, you tend to use them the most.

One day, on your practice day, Taehyung sat spreading his legs on the bench. Quite close to you but you still squint your eyes. Unsure if it’s actually him or just some other boy who wore the exact baggy beige pants that you always see on him, why is he here? Maybe he’s waiting for a friend. 

You just finished a total of five set a hundred meter runs before you realized that he is actually looking at you. From almost a yard away from him, you waved your hand “Taehyung?”

“Yea,” one arm on his knee, the other one waving back at you.

“Waiting for someone?” you yelled, hoping that he can hear you.

“No one, just watching you,” Taehyung answered.

You jog closer to him, because you think you misheard that he was here watching you, not waiting for someone. Wait? 

“What?” You pant while wiping sweat on your forehead. 

“I said, I was watching you running,” he beamed, looking up at you. He was holding back a laugh seeing your face twitch in confusion.

“There isn’t any particular reason. I was just nearby when I saw your team having a practice.” 

“And somehow you decided to stay?” You asked.

“I am curious. I really wanted to see you in the field. I saw you in your jersey all the time after our class. I never gets to see you in action, so yea, I decided to stay and watch you,”

“Well, that’s…”

“Too weird?” Taehyung scooted to provide you some space on the bench. His big hand lightly taps on the free spot, luring you to sit next to him.

“No, not really. We just don’t really talk in class and I was just..shocked?” You’re making sure there’s a gap in between your thighs and his because you’re conscious of your sweaty smelly self. 

He chuckled and you stared at his boxy smiles. There it is, the infamous smile that swooned everyone in this little island.

“Silly, I thought we’re already friends? At least I considered us friends the moment you let me borrow your yellow paint.” He turns his whole upper body, fully facing you now. 

The yellow paint was a cheap one. It was not even that bright. In fact, all colours in the paint set are dull and pale. It was affordable and your mom did her best to buy it. Bless her heart. Taehyung uses your yellow paint for the dandelion he drew. What you didn’t know was, he may purposely draw the dandelions so he can talk to you. 

“Oh yeah.” You agreed along.

Crap. I’m so sweaty like a pig right now, you thought. 

“Let’s make it more clear, can we be friends?” Taehyung smiles at you.

“Sure,” was your only answer. 

Dammit you can feel the sweat running down the valley of your prepubescent beasts and you wanted this to end before Taehyung can see it through your thin jersey. 

Since that day, Taehyung never missed a day of your practice. Just sitting all by himself on the bench until it’s over, and after that you walked home together. 

At seventeen, he wiped the tears and kissed the pain away.

If Taehyung was told to rate three of his hardest moments in his life, number three would be sending you off on the ferry to town. 

You have become a successful athlete, number one track runner in your hometown representing your school. You were always away for running events.

Once a month, you’re cruising on the ferry, off to the big city. It pains Taehyung to watch you go out of the island where he is still stuck there. But he insisted on sending you and picking you up. Because that way he can soothe his heart by sending you safely and knowing you will always come back home.

Just like any other month. Taehyung is waiting by the station on his bike. Ready to pick you up.

He is imagining your silly face with a gold medal on your neck. “Taetae I won! Again!” Like any other month. Taehyung can’t help it. He has grown to care about you a lot. He has become your number one supporter, always there at the finished line.

Taehyung knows by heart the schedule of the ferry. The ferry leaves at seven every morning and the last trip from the town is always at before five in the evening. He knows the schedule like the back of his hand. It’s a small island. Nothing really goes wrong. Except if there is a storm or if the sea is unpleasant. Which was rare. 

He knows that the journey took two hours. It’s always two hours back and forth to the big city. Somehow right now his watch is pointing at seven. Later than usual. He kept himself calm by picturing you running to him. 

His eyes lit up the moment he saw the ferry. He patiently waits until every single one of the passengers is out of that ferry. Just like any other month, he predicted your loud scream can be heard by now.

 Except, this time it was silent.

The ferry was here but he couldn’t hear your giggles, his heart was beating fast. Something is not right.

Standing up straight, he runs to the ferry. Calling for you. 

His frantic eyes caught a few people still coming out but he couldn’t find you. What happened? Times like this makes him more anxious because he couldn’t call you. At seventeen, having a phone in this little island is a luxury. Promising himself to get a phone soon with the money he collected from part time jobs.

One hand on his hip and the other is rubbing his face, he broke into a cold sweat. His mind is moving too fast with questions. Were you left behind? Did something happen to you? Are you alone?

Just before he almost turned around and grabbed his bike to look for your coach or your mom, he saw a solemn figure at the back side of the ferry. 

His second hard moments in his life is watching you injured.

His heart beats like a drum when he sees you in crutches, one leg is wrapped and head down looking at the floor. He walks with a heavy heart to you, whispering your name as if calling you out loud would break your already fragile state.

“Hey, look at me,” Taehyung says softly as he holds your chin. Prompting you to look up to him. He gasped after his eyes set on your face. Your lower lip is busted and red with dried blood, your eyes are swollen, which he assumes from crying. He hates that he was right.

His greatest fear, your tears.

“Taetae,” the break in your voice is stabbing Taehyung all over the place.

“Shh, It’s okay, you’re okay.” He cupped your face with his hands. As gentle as he can. Eyes frowning seeing you in pain. Taehyung wishes there are things such as transferring pain because right now he wants to take yours.

“I lost,” you sob, letting tears and snot rolling down your face. The sting on your lip is the least pain you can feel.

“Oh dear, it’s just one lost. I’m sure you did your best.” Taehyung cooed as he wiped your tears and snot.

“No, it’s not gonna be one lost from now on. I tripped and fell so hard. It’s gonna take months to heal,” you hiccups and Taehyung swears this is the sound that breaks his heart the most and he vows to keep you away from it.

“I’m gonna miss the nationals, Tae what am I gonna do?” you wail. Breathing becomes hard. With hiccups and sobbing and a blurry view because of the tears, you’re breaking down in his arms.  

“Shh shh, take a deep breath for me. Come on baby, don’t scare me. Please, please breathe.” he puts his forehead on yours. Hoping to ground you back to him. Thumbs rubbing softly on your cheeks.

The term of endearment didn’t go unnoticed by you. Baby.

“Taetae,”. You were still sobbing as you leaned on him.

Taehyung is terrified, he never saw you cry this hard. He doesn’t know how to calm you and it kills him to not be able to do anything to lessen your pain. So he kissed you, softly. On your forehead, on your cheeks, on your eyelids, on your nose. 

The traces of his kisses feel like a feathery touch. And your sense is following his trails. Closing your eyes you’re no longer sobbing. Only soft whimpers fill the space.

“There we go. No more tears, baby.” Taehyung is relieved now that he can feel you breathing at a steady pace again. “Let’s go home,” he hesitated when his eyes landed on your lips. Swollen red from the biting. 

You noticed the lingering stare and with a beat of the heart you crashed your lips on his. Seeking comfort and warmth, Taehyung is soaring high. The kiss was like a warm wave. Languid and soft. Taehyung is so gentle. He peppers soft kisses around your busted lips. 

“Don't wanna hurt you,” he breathed. Pulling himself from the kiss, he rubs a soft circle on your cheek. “Let’s go home,” he added. 

He piggybacks you home first and comes back again later to pick up his bike and your crutches. From that day onward, you both knew that you aren’t just friends anymore.

You have been itching to get your feet back on track and once the cast is off, you swear you’re gonna spend every evening running. It wasn’t ideal since the injury was bad and you were advised to stay put until it completely healed. 

But you were so determined to get back on track because your only goal is getting into nationals. You have planned it out. Since you don’t perform well academically, running is your only golden ticket out of the island. You got to join the national teams. You must.

The evening after you took off your cast accompanied by Taehyung, you asked him to drop you off at the track field.

“What are we gonna do in the field? You’re not planning on running aren’t you?” Taehyung speaks with scrunched eyebrows. 

“Taetae, please. I really missed the track.” You pouted and he’s a goner.

“No running!” He pointed his finger at you. You smirk before pretending to bite it. 

“I’m serious. No running,” he gently flicked your forehead. “We’re just gonna take a walk, okay?” he hums, turning around to make sure you’re securely safe on the back of his bike.

“I promise.” You squeezed his waist, an answer yes I’m alright back here Taetae.

You have no idea how much you missed the track until Taehyung helped you down from the bike. The sudden gush of air fills your lungs like you’ve come up from drowning. Taehyung can sense that you’re become quite overwhelmed. His hand enveloping yours as he kissed your temple.

“Come on,” he whispered.

Rahhhh!! Rahhh!!! 

The chant of the crowd broke a smile on your face. You missed it, you missed smelling the old burgundy track, feeling the burn from the sun, the sweat and the satisfying burn in your lungs when you reached the finish line. 

You missed a certain someone waiting there. With his ridiculous boxy grin, and his booming cheers, muting other sounds and you can hear nothing but his voice. 

It is so hard to be the one sitting in the audience instead of being on the track.

Taehyung left you for a minute to buy some lemonade and you desperately need him to ground you. Otherwise you’d be a crying mess. Yearning to be on the track but your almost healing leg is holding you back.

It is an annual event, something like sports day for the people in your island. It wasn’t even a big event, unlike the ones you used to compete in. But your heart hummed in a painful tone. You’re jealous of those who can run freely on the track you held dear to your heart.

A soft tap on your shoulder broke you from wallowing in self-pity. Taehyung sat next to you, hands holding two cups of lemonade. He knows coming here is not a good idea but you woke up so early and dressed up to be here. He doesn’t have the heart to say no.

Seeing your frowning face, Taehyung started to think maybe he should’ve said no or maybe brought you somewhere else but here.

“Hey, did I tell you that Miss Choi is helping me submit my art to the National Art School?” Taehyung winced at his futile attempt to distract you. No, Taehyung, this isn’t about you. He bit the inner cheek. Handing you a cup of lemonade before he could think of anything to turn back the time.

“No way,” you gasped. He knows you’d be excited for him. But he didn’t expect how your face would just glow in excitement like this. He was glad. 

“Taetae! Why did you just tell me now? How could you!” you punched his shoulder. It doesn’t hurt a bit. Taehyung is still lost in your happy smile. 

“Ah, I'm so happy. Finally, Let the city people look at your art. They're gonna praise you Taetae!” You smile adoringly and Taehyung hated that he had one thought you wouldn’t be happy for him.

“Yea, but I’m not sure yet what piece I should submit. I’m not that good and nope before you can scream at me let me finish,” he raised his finger on your lips. Just managed to stop you from gasping out loud. 

What an outrageous statement! Kim Taehyung’s arts are the most magnificent arts. Though you have no clue how to appreciate art, you would break hell if people couldn’t appreciate his art.

“It’s a tough competition, even if my piece were received and reviewed, the chances of me getting in there are slim. There are so many talented artists out there, baby. Let’s not have high hopes. Not to mention I haven’t had a decent piece to submit yet.” he sighed. Shoulders slumped and he emptied the lemonade in one go.

He is nervous.

Looking at him, you squished his cheeks with your hands. “Look at me,” you demanded.

“Your art is the most breathtaking art I have ever seen, Kim Taehyung. And it’s a lot coming from me, who is practically blind when it comes to looking at paintings. I have zero knowledge about art but I know for sure, yours are gonna blow some minds. There’s people out there who studied arts, they will look at yours and be amazed by them.” You said.

“And you will always have good arts, they’re not just decent. You always said when the inspiration comes, it comes. Don’t pressure yourself,” you whispered as if it’s the only secret between you and him. And you’re selfish, not wanting to share the moment with the rest of the crowds.

Taehyung didn’t know how a heart could break until that night he received a call from your mother.

“Taehyung, she fell. Again.” 

The static noise filled his ears as he ran to the jetty. It was midnight and there’s no ferry to take him to you.

Stupid, stupid girl!

He cried while banging his chest. He could’ve prevented you from going. You told him you wanted to participate in a tournament. It was not even a month after you recovered. Teahyung did think you were so stubborn to go because apparently it was for a scholarship. You were hellbent on going because you knew, the moment Taehyung got accepted to art school, you will be left alone. 

You wanted to be in the city with him. You were so sure Taehyung would get accepted and the only way to be with him is to get the sports scholarship and join him in the city.

Taehyung was unsure at first. You just got better. He was scared that one slip could jeopardize your whole dream. Again, he hated that he was right.

Your mom was sobbing when she called him. “She can never run again Tae, her muscle was torn and there’s no way we can afford a surgery. She hasn’t woken up yet, she was under a high dose painkiller. I don’t know what to tell her Tae.”

Taehyung wished he could calm your mom but he couldn’t. Not when he was crying too.

You always tell him the same dream of yours. Joining the national team, go to the Olympics. Becoming the fastest runner of the country. Run until you can never feel your legs anymore. With him always telling you he’d be on the finish line. Cheering you on and on. And now the dreams will stay as dreams.

He couldn’t control his anger and thinking about your pain, he collapses on the ground. Letting the tears touch the ground. It wasn’t until he was collected enough to ride the earliest ferry to town. To come to you.

Taehyung stays by your side nights and days. Helping your mom as you don't have any male figure in your life. His parents understand it and he is thankful for that. They know how much you meant to him and they were so proud to see their son has been such a reliable shoulder especially in this trivial time for your family.

He was the one who meets up with the doctor with your mom. Discussing the recovery plan, and just being there to be your pillar. You were so quiet on the first day he arrived. The dark circles under your eyes and the hollow stare is tearing his heart apart. 

Not saying much he helped feed you, and carried you to the bathroom. You were still quiet, though Taehyung tried to engage you in small talks. He makes silly jokes, the repeated jokes you always laughed at only to be received an empty response from you now. 

“Tae, I wouldn’t know what to do if you weren't here. Thank you so much, son.” Your mom cries to him. Taehyung was so heartbroken to see your mom keep crying as he himself couldn’t do much to ease the pain. 

“She’ll get better, she is strong.” He said. It has become a mantra every time Taehyung sat alone, thinking about you.

One day, when the doctor allowed you to go home, you reached for him. Mumbling, “Taetae, will I be okay?” your voice was strained, rough and broken. Eyes still staring into the void but your hands held onto him so tight. Like you’re so afraid if he lets go.

“Yes, you will. You’re a strong girl, you’re my strong girl,” Taehyung replied without hesitation, kissing your forehead in hopes of banishing the negative thoughts from swallowing your mind. 

“But I can’t run anymore. What’s the point? I am no longer a runner.” 

“Maybe there’s another opportunity for you. Maybe we can try other things, I’ll help you,”

You scoffed, he sounded silly and unrealistic. “I am nothing without running. It’s my only purpose, Kim Taehyung.” 

He winced at his full name used by you. “I get it but you shouldn’t lose all hope. There are other possibilities for you out there, we just have to push harder to look for them. I believe in you.” Taehyung pleads.

“You don’t get it. All my life, one thing I am sure about is the track. I beat the time every time I’m on the track and now I am defeated with a broken leg and a stupid brain. Forget academics, you and I, we both know how terrible I am at learning. I’m not you! You’re a prodigy in everything. You have people who want to buy your art. I only have the track to stay valid so no, no one gets it. Not even you!” you were seething through your teeth. 

All of the pent up anger and frustration were let out to the one person you cared about. It’s too late to regret, now that his face shows nothing but hurt.

Taehyung feels like being punched in his gut with your words. How could you, when he himself couldn’t sleep a wink from the day he heard about your injury. When worried about you every time you were at a tournament. When he can barely sit still watching you running on the track.

He couldn’t say anything after that. He knows whatever comes out from his mouth will only make it worse. You were devastated, he got to understand that. You need time and space, and you will be okay again. 

Ever since you arrived home, you refused to meet anyone. Not even Taehyung. You were angry and most of all you were just sad. You wanted to be mad at something, something to blame but you couldn’t find it. 

Maybe it was yourself, maybe if you weren’t so stubborn, maybe if you waited a little longer. 

Taehyung did not give up. You were pushing him away and he didn’t move a flinch. He realizes he is being a pushover but you need someone. You were stubborn, through and through. You don’t have to come out of your room to talk to him nor him entering your room like he always does, but you know he’s around, he is home. 

He even followed you and your mom to your routine physiotherapy. But you ignore him. A part of you feels selfish and guilty for treating him this way. Another part is, you think you’re dragging him down on this stupid island. You tried to distance yourself from him, but Taehyung didn’t care. He stays stuck next to you. 

Even though you went to school all by yourself, Taehyung always follows behind you quietly. You didn’t talk to anyone and yet he still comes to your locker to help you carry your book. 

You forgot about his art submission, until one day he came up to your room. Knocking softly. He didn’t speak but who else would be in your house other than your mom. You opened up to see him holding a big white canvas under his arm.

He turns it to you, showing you a painting of a girl in her yellow and red jersey. The girl is running in a field of dandelions.   

“I want to submit this but I need you to see it first. You are my muse, you are my girl. It kills me to see you in this state and I want nothing but the very best of you. I used to cheer for you on the finish line but this time let me run by your side. Let me help you. If I get accepted, I will make a lot of money and I will make the best life for you, so you can stop worrying so much. We’ll learn together, just let me in.”

[svnny-days]

The First Snow

pairing: luke castellan x gn!reader

w.c: 1k (got a tad carried away, oh well)

content: fluff?, gn!reader, reader is a little… dumb(?), not in camp... or canon tbh, it snowed !, established relationship, there's like... two swear words, readers favorite color is green because that's my favorite color (duh)

warning: not edited, i was writing it literally right before i went to bed so if something doesn't make sense... ignore it <3 I also got the idea for this from a prompt generator, so 🤷🏻‍♀️

For the past couple of days you have been wanting to go to your boyfriend’s home, but it’s been snowing. And it’s been a little while since the two of you had last seen each other, since you’re too busy with school work and your jobs. So, when you finally got a proper day off, you jumped at the opportunity to visit and relax with your lover.

Now, instead of walking to the front door and being a normal person, you decided to have a little fun with all the good packing snow around you. You had made a small snowball and thought it’d be a good way to get your boyfriend’s attention if you threw it at his bedroom window. You giggle to yourself at the thought of his confused face after you throw it and it makes a loud ‘thud!’ on the glass. You take a second to compose yourself before aiming and… there’s no thud. No indication of the snowball hitting anything for that matter. You look down at your hand and find it empty before turning back to look at the window where your snow-covered boyfriend, Luke, is now staring at you with a blank face, “What… Is wrong with you?” 

“Ah! Sorry, I didn’t think your window was open! It was supposed to be this cute thing, I was gonna throw the snowball at your window and supri-” You’re cut off by him laughing. He was laughing? Your brows furrow together as you move closer to the window, to him, and notice the lack of screen. Then you notice the rest of his room, it’s cozy looking with all the decor and dark, navy blue sheets and blankets on his bed. “You… You’re not mad, right?”

“No sweetheart, I’m not mad,” He shakes his head and helps you in through the window before closing it for good. His curly, brunette hair sags and drips a bit from the now melted snow, “I just can’t believe you thought it’d be a good idea to throw that instead of tapping on the window or knocking on the front door,” there’s a hint of amusement in his voice as he takes a seat back on his bed, binders and books sprawled on the blue sheets, some wet from the snow and others untouched completely.

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU HAD IT OPEN WITH NO SCREEN?” 

“You could’ve actually looked?” He responds with a cheeky grin gracing his features. 

“Oh whatever, Castellan,” You roll your eyes and plop down on his bed beside him. Your eyes scan his room, taking in your surroundings. As you look around you notice a familiar bracelet sitting on his semi-cluttered desk, “Is that the friendship bracelet I made you… when was that? 3 years ago?” You take notice of the way his cheeks flush and he hesitates to answer your question. You shake your head in response as you work to move his books and papers off his bed, “Look, I don’t care that you kept it, but gods it hurts my eyes to look at.”

“Are you calling your own handiwork an eyesore?”

“Yes! Because it is!”

“Nuh uh.”

“Did you just say nuh uh?” You shake your head at him as you set his stuff down on his desk, swiping the bracelet in the process. You move back over to his bed and reach for his hand, gently sliding the piece of crappy handmade jewelry onto his wrist, “If I wear mine 24/7, you have to wear yours all the time too.” 

His face contorts to a look of confusion as his eyes move from your face to your wrist where he sees the matching bracelet to the one you placed on him, “You… You actually wear yours?”

“Well yeah! Why wouldn’t I?” You tilt your head in confusion.

“Well I just thought that…” His voice trails off as he fails to find the right words. You look at him expectantly as your hands motion for him to ‘spit it out.’ Luke lets out a soft sigh before shaking his head, his brown curls bouncing with the motion, “I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d keep it.”

“Luke, honey, we’ve been dating for what… a year now? Do you seriously not know me that well? What’s my favorite color?”

“Isn’t it forest green?”

You smile at him and press a soft, chaste kiss to his cheek, “Okay, I guess you can have a pass this time.”

“Oh yay. How lucky of me! I looooove freebies,” Luke rolls his eyes, the sassy man apocalypse got this one too… You shake your head at him and sigh while ruffling his hair with a smile. And that’s how the two of you decide to spend the rest of the day. Bickering, throwing sass, and making the smallest things out to be bigger than they are because that’s just how you two are.

Hours later, the sun was starting to set, making the sky explode in beautiful shades of pinks and oranges. “You still never explained why your window doesn’t have a screen in it, or why it was open. I mean do you seriously need your window open when it’s 5 degrees outside?” You ask as you look up at him from your spot in his arms. The warmth of the blankets and his body wrapped around yours are enough to lull you to sleep but you fight it back, forcing your eyes open. Luke’s chest rumbles as he laughs softly in response to your question. “Let’s just say a little birdy told me you’d try to come over today,” 

“So you’re telling me you took the screen out of your window and left it open for gods know how long because a quote unquote little birdy told you I was coming?” 

“That’s what I said, yeah.”

“Sometimes I wish you could just tell me the truth!”

“I AM telling the truth,” Luke huffs and sits up, the blankets around you moving with him as he disentangles from you. You sit up too, following the warmth of his body in a desperate need for it to be wrapped around you once again. “You just don’t want to listen to me because I sassed you one too many times.” 

“You wish!”

“Oh so now you want a sass off, is that it?”

[zemkzone]

So, it's Thanksgiving, and I'm spending it alone in a country where it isn't even a holiday. I'm in a mood because of a lot of things this month (not just the Terrible Awful Crappy 5th).

Buuuuuut I wanted to spread a lil cheer, and be thankful for this hellsite and all the ColdFlash creatures I've met while scrolling through here--@theroguesharlequin @hardwiredweird @notquiteinsane @hautecoldture @softboydepot @simpledontmeanpeachy to name a few (while I'm still vaguely sober). So here's a snippet of a scene I've been tinkering with for That Rare Arctic Thunderstorm, which is hilariously set on Thanksgiving 2015. Not the final version, of course, and yes, there are... redactions marked by brackets ([])... but hey, HAPPY TURKEY DAY, 'Murricah! And to the rest of you, early happy weekend!

“Right on time, Doc,” [Len] drawled, opening the front door for Henry Allen. “Len, good to see you, son,” Barry’s dad said, a genuinely pleased smile on his face as he handed over one of his two large, heavily stuffed tote bags. He was all bundled up in cozy fall colors. “Happy Thanksgiving! Mike and Avigail send their regards—along with fresh sweet potato latkes, jelly doughnuts, and something called… borekas?” “Huh, here I thought a pit-stop at the Birnbaums’ would take you longer.” Len turned to hit the elevator button, trying to ignore the funny way the endearment made him feel. “I wouldn’t be late for my first Thanksgiving as a free man,” Henry remarked as they stepped into the elevator car. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” “You and Scarlet both, Doc.” Len would have shrugged and smirked, but in the face of Henry’s warm smile, he couldn’t manage enough nonchalance. “I think we’ve known each other long enough for you to start calling me Henry.” Barry’s dad clapped his shoulder with his free hand. “I’m actually glad it was you who came down to get me. I wanted a moment alone with you, to thank you.” “For what?” The elevator doors slid open on the top floor, but Len’s feet refused to move. Henry seemed to notice his discomfort and let go of his shoulder. “Barry’s always been a kind boy, sometimes too kind. I know today—the original plan and the new one—was all his idea. You didn’t have to go along with it [...] but you did. So, thank you.” For one extended moment, Len couldn’t speak. [...] Len had agreed and been thanked by Barry repeatedly in several different ways already, but he hadn’t expected understanding or gratitude from anyone else. He got his mouth—and his feet—to work again right as the elevator doors started to close. He stopped them with his palm, gesturing for the older man to step out ahead of him. “Henry… Did Scarlet ever tell you my four rules?” Barry’s dad smiled and quirked his brow curiously. “No, he didn’t.” “Make the plan, execute the plan.” Len stepped out after him. “Expect the plan to go off the rails,” he opened the door to the apartment proper, “throw away the plan.” Henry laughed with delight as they stepped inside, again clapping a hand on his shoulder. “With rules like that, you two will be just fine.”

[universallydestinytaco]

Drowning My Sorrows (ONE-SHOT)

I felt like making a vent-y hurt/comfort one shot where after Charlie, Alan and Glep get into a fight, Pim fails to resolve it and sends strange texts over the group chat that have the gang scrambling to get there. Ends with an happy ending, I promise.

TW: PTSD, P*nic Att**k, Mentions of Ab*se + Victim Bl*m*ng, The Ab*se of Alcohol as an Unhealthy Coping Mechanism and an all-to relatable nightmare sequence. Read at your own risk.

The sun began to set for the day as Pim came inside his house after work as he usually did, turning on the lights and evoking a warm, cozy vibe for he was trying to feel for a sense of comfort, but he felt so drained after that bungled attempt to peacefully resolve that nasty argument between his co-workers ended on a sour, defeated note. He tried to take his mind off of it with a curling up on the couch with a blanket, a cup of warm tea and turning on one of his favorite shows with the little boy and his pastel-colored alien family…but on nights like this, it failed to break him of his shaking palms and his beating heart which was getting worse and worse as he ignored it.

“What do you know about it, squirt?! Keep your goddamn nose-er, whatever you have between your eyes out of it!”

The memory of the irritated Charlie telling Pim to back off reminded him of another memory that plagued him for years, when he finally forgot about it and began to heal it seemed to finally come back to haunt him after all this time. Whenever his mom would hear he got into yet another “fight” with another family member, he would be punished even if he did nothing of note to make them angry in the first place. Whether it be a long lecture that could be boiled down to “It’s your fault for being unhappy.” or among those lines, she would cherry pick anything to somehow make the connection that it was Pim’s fault and he deserved it all while hammering it over his head that it was immature to not be positive over even the worst things that happened to him. Did he really deserve all of that to happen to him merely for telling any of them to leave him alone when they started it? Pim tried to think of happy memories he had with his friends, taking yet another note from his mom…but always came back to what happened before he left work…..

Pim couldn’t take it anymore, he needed something to soothe the pain by making him forget. Pim promised himself he wouldn’t do it again, over and over, but the feeling of spacing out with alcohol was (even if temporary) a wash over of relief, simply forgetting about everything bothering him even if it would leave him throwing up with a hangover the next day. No wonder his mom loved her wine so much.

….

Charlie was playing Rust on his PC, accompanied by a bag of chips and his second ice-cold can of Monster, tuning reality out best he could in his crappy studio apartment…his flow got disrupted after he started hearing his phone blow up he tried to ignore it, but knowing the exact extent of his friends’ irreverence it had to be the funniest obscure meme from 2005 or something. He picked up the phone and opened up the group chat to be greeted to a wall of texts, where he started reading the first two initially figuring it was just going to be Pim apologizing for butting in him that verbal smackdown he and his other two coworkers had….the rest of the text, on the other hand, started to startle the yellow critter as it progressively got more personal. The last text was sent as he was reading the rest, and when Charlie read the last one, it sent him in a panic. He started spamming the chat begging Pim to respond, apologizing for his behavior earlier but despite Pim being marked as active, none of the texts that Charlie had been desperately beaming out from his fingertips were marked as read…after waiting five minutes or so, Charlie who was anxious with sweat finally received a message, but it wasn’t the one he was expecting.

Alan: The hell are y’all in the chat doing waking me up at this hour for? >:(

Charlie’s hopes of reaching out to his best friend were dramatically dashed, as tears pricked in his eyes. Charlie wasn’t the touchy-feely-type of guy, as he hid his emotions like a “true” alpha male but in this particular case, how could he not? He really screwed up this time, leaving Alan and Glep furious at him and Pim….he really shouldn’t have lashed out at the sensitive little guy. Sure he butt-in while he was trying to make a point but at least he was trying to peacefully bring him back to earth. Charlie felt the tense vibration of anxiety in his palm when texting Alan, typos and all.

Charlie: Sc r ol hp noq scroll yup noq shit scroll up now Alan: FUCK Glep: (=3=) zzzz (>0<) !! ???? Alan: EVERYONE MEET ME AT PIM’S HOUSE ON THE DOUBLE.

Charlie shoved his phone in his pocket, trying to hold back tears as he ran out of his apartment and zoomed out the door as he almost felt as if his world was crashing down right in front of him. Pim was the first true friend he ever had, if it weren’t for him he wouldn’t have gotten out of unemployment and while he never showed it all that much, he was deeply touched by all the thoughtful little messages Pim would leave for Charlie on a daily basis letting him know he was loved. He could have spent all that time an energy keeping up his stoic image to return the favor, then again he always had trouble communicating with meaningful words to those he cared about.

….

Sometime after his erratic breakdown, Pim blacked out. Everything prior was a blur to him, not that his memory was all that clear to begin with. His eyes were shut, but he could visualize how he felt: tied up in vines of roses and dangling upside down as the thorns pierced his skin and the blooms snickered, laughing and repeating in echoey siren calls reciting all the worst memories he had and the more he struggled while swinging to-and-fro, the thorns dug deeper and the siren calls spewing from the blooms got more colorful. Pim was in absolute agony, but as he would come to think of it, it’s always been this way. Even when he left that wretched household, he still couldn’t escape. The siren calls turned into his mother’s voice, chiding him for being so “immature” as to let all the negativity get to him, and why Amy or his brother Damien where far more grown up for repressing all their issues and not pushing them on anyone else and that Pim was just the spoiled baby of the family who had it easier than everyone else and was the last to be upset about anything. Pim felt his shattered heart pierce through his chest like broken glass and dripping all over the place. No matter how hard he tried with every trick in the book he could think of, he couldn’t stop feeling this way…his family was right, he wasn’t a normal functioning person, therefor he was a problem for everyone else. Who would want a mistake like him around anyway? If his own family saw him as lesser why would anybody give him the time of day?

….

Pim was in that weird stage between being awake and asleep, his eyes were closed while vaguely hearing all-too familiar voices whispering. For some reason he felt cold and damp, shivering on the floor…just what on earth did he get himself into this time? Once he opened his eyes he found himself wrapped up in a familiar red hoodie like a blanket, he found himself surrounded by unexpected company. Not only were two of his co-workers and a Mr. Boss where there and displaying worried looks, Pim looked up and witnessed the most emotional guest of all…he never saw Charlie this devastated before, tears flooded his eyes like a faucet as his stoic “alpha male” facade crumbled before his very eyes. Then Pim suddenly remembered everything that lead to this and once again Guilt, being the legendarily confrontational bitch it’s been long-fabled as, struck him in the heart with her shiny golden dagger. He was scared to say a word, knowing from experience he would be harshly scolded for acting out like that, but considering the people here where showing more genuine care for him, he knew they’d at least understand.

“…I’m incredibly sorry, I was being very selfish upsetting you all like that, you all deserve better and I won’t ever scare you like that again.” Pim sheepishly spat out while starting to cry…. just then all four of the guests immediately burst into tears with Charlie’s being the loudest and most pained in the room as the other four all rushed towards him in support for a rare group hug. Pim and Charlie cried themselves to sleep as the other three stayed at the formers’ place all night to comfort him. ….

That morning while Charlie and Pim where still asleep on the couch, the bigger critter still cradling the smaller, Alan whipped up a hearty breakfast variant of his iconic grilled cheese sandwiches as Mr. Boss was making cowboy coffee all while Glep was helping in-between. The two were awaken by the delicious aroma permeating the house. Everyone sat down in the living room to enjoy breakfast as more cheerful conversations recalling humorous past events lit up the room like a candle to a lamp, Pim wriggled out of Charlie’s hoodie feeling like a butterfly releasing from it’s isolating chrysalis to feast upon the meal of which was lovingly cooked up and served. “Feeling better?” asked Mr. Boss in a warm, Grandfatherly tone. It wasn’t like how his mother used to ask that same question, since it was less-so making Pim “back to normal” so that her mood wouldn’t be soured but rather out of genuine care and concern. For once Pim was aware how loved he was, and while it was normal for people to fight and have misunderstandings, unlike certain people Pim was aware he and his merry group where actually committed to listening to each other.

“I never felt better.”

[ravel-puzzlewell]

Hi! Do you mind elaborating on what you meant by "tiefling politics" on that wotr vs bg3 post? Just curious, ignore if you want

its about the fact that bg3 has a lot of tiefling characters, somehow more than wotr, and huge theme of like hells and connections to demons\devils and somehow manages to say absolutely nothing interesting about it.

in wotr we have examination of tieflings fitting into human society, ostracization and (literal) demonization of them, where even if some of them would want to help in war against hell, they are scared (frex, group of tieflings thieves you save which you can ask to help u and they are like are u kidding me, crusaders will torch us). woljif in particular is a deconstruction of selfish chaotic neutral tielfling rogue archetype, his story both exploring how both he was pushed into being a criminal bc he had no other options, but also interplay with how he then himself tends to dismiss his own agency in being able to decide for himself and choose better, forever excusing himself with "well this is a crappy hand dealt to me", his survivalist attitude of everyone for themselves vs desire for community, how when given a smidge of stability and access to decision making in council, he tries to awkwardly, but eagerly advocate for societal improvement for all tieflings, and this is one of his most sincere moments - and gets laughed at immediately, etc etc. and speaking of community, v interesting intersection between "good" and "bad" marginalized groups of mongrels vs tieflings, with Lann being self-righteous about both his moral superiority and how mongrels "have it worse", while ignoring that mongrels - and he himself specifically - are mistreated literally bc they are mistaken for tieflings.

btw if anyone wants me to talk more about mongrels vs tieflings thing, hit me up, i think there was a interesting stuff, even if not properly dramatized

meanwhile in bg3 being tiefling largely means nothing? like the refugees would sometimes like drop a line out loud about how tieflings should stick together bc humans won't help them, but like that's it. the refugees could literally be humans running from war or blue cat ppl from avatar running from capitalism and nothing in the plot or characters would need to be changed. tieflings is just cosmetics for them, like idk its cool to have colorful NPCs with fire eyes and sexy horns. And even companions wise, you know I love Karlach and tried to romance her, but being tiefling is just looks for her, its not meaningful. It doesn't matter for her backstory, she could have been a strong human from poor background who was sold out to idk, underdark. like it sucked bc she was forced to do violence and everyne was an asshole and she couldn't see sun, but otherwise it being Blood War specifically doesn't come into play. and like. Blood War has famously huge effects on ppl with hell heritage! I'm not saying she should have been Valen Shadowbreath with entire plotline about struggling with blood war calling, but like. idk, something?

my point is that tieflings and hell has a lot of lore and like, FLAVOUR in this setting, which were not explored at all. these are just ppl with horns and generic Bad Place.

and then like. devil essentialism. bg3 has central motive of how evil races are not ontologically evil, but like, devils are. sdfghjk. apparentely mind flayers can fight actual mind control if they are V Special, but all devils/demons are evil with no exceptions. karlach was in hell for 10 years and never met a single sympathetic devil. the closest one he had mocks IS Evil when we meet her in game. and I actually liked Raphael (transition could've saved her), but there is nothing particularily interesting about him, he's also straighforwardly evil. this severely limits how interesting interactions with hell are. in wotr there is a wide range from reformed succubus to most evil sadists, with every shade in between, which allows for complex stories, like that that fucked up love between that betrayer dwarf and demoness who seduced him. she's legit evil, but she also has actual twisted affection for him, and he knows she uses him, but he was pushed too far by humans and chooses her anyway. this background story is honestly has more depth than wyll's and mizora relationship, where shes just evil and he's straighforwardly martyr. when mizora offered to have fun wink wink, i immediately knew she's gonna Evil It. and she did. and she didn't even get anything out of it! it was just staining your soul to be evil:3 like ok, but boring tbh.

and like yeah war with hell is central plot of wotr, obviously it has a lot more to say and explore about it, but like. bg3 didn't HAVE to have to include so many tieflings and have us follow their stories through all acts. it didn't have to include hell in "no race essentialism" game if it didn't want to talk about it. it chose to, and when game has big chuncks of content about smth connected by a theme, i expect it to say smth about it? anything interesting? eh.

btw, this is not to say i think wotr's writing is perfect, far from it, i can talk for ages of my problems with that game's writing, but this initial phrase was from shitposts specifically comparng things in wotr to bg3, so