#impulse drew this when i was trying to get to sleep

[sepiasys]

Oh, before I forget

I (🦊) tried to like. Headspace shit. And I ask 👑 stuff bc we're all so obsessed with him ig 🙄 (He honestly stands out the most, even tho he like. Never or rarely fronts.)(It's cuz he's british /t /j)

But yeah I asked him smth and he like. Bro did a shush gesture. I dont even remember what I asked??? But it was smth when we were gonna ask if he wanted out, like. Try and TALK and see if he was interested in fronting (since everyone wants him out 🙄). But yeah no.

This version we have in our head just likes to be a cheeky bastard sometimes ig =_= Even tho most of the time he. Like... isn't.

Also thinking about if we tried to use music as a trigger for him (which like doesnt work), it would have to be something at a slower pace, lower bpm or smth. Most of us can't rlly handle anything slow though. Probably related to adhd or some shit idfk

Idk man.

[elliesfreckle]

over & out | radio au |

▶• ılıılıılılıılıılı. 0

📟 : record one 𖣠

⏯ synopsis : you’re a voice on the other side of the radio. she’s your wrong frequency — a mistake. a fortune, maybe, at the edge of a devastated world. you never told her your name. she never asked what you looked like. but when the nights get colder, in a world full of silence, you keep talking.

⏯ pairing : ellie williams & fem!reader

⏯ content warning : swearing; canon tlou after outbreak world;

⏯ word count : 2k

⏯ a/n : well its nearly 5 in the morning and you know what. i dont know either. i've never written this kind of things before, i've never posted on tumblr, english is far from my mother language (pardon me ladies), im pretty unpopular on socials, nervous, chaotic, and i like bleeding on paper/my laptop keyboard! but still! im hopeless for ellie. this idea won't leave my head. first chapter is pretty short ig, im trying to escape my writer's block and i really enjoyed writing it!! and i hope you will enjoy seeing ellie the way i see her, and love her the way i do. any feedback is deeply appreciated ♡

Late august comes with heat. It clings to Ellie’s strained shoulders, sticky and heavy. It traces, tries to count her freckles—however they are countless—along toned arms smeared with dirt and dried, rust-brown blood.

August loves her wild auburn hair in a way winter never did; autumn will love it soon as well.

Ellie’s shrouded in sunset; she’s walking, worn-out converse stirring the red dust of the road. Somewhere nearby, crickets cry—this sound is louder now than the groaning of the horde that follows.

Well, yeah, she’s fucked. She’s cooked.

The sun is dying in copper ribbons that bleed across the hills. Tonight she probably won’t be sleeping on Joel’s beat-up backyard couch. She’ll make him worry, all over again. Shitty daughter; shitty fighter. Ellie exhales through clenched teeth, a curse slipping past her lips.

What started as a short detour outside patrol range turns into a very Jackson-style mistake—impulsive, selfish, and stupidly brave. She left that morning with a rifle, a half-full canteen, and a lie. “Just getting some air.” she said.

Truth is, she’d grown tired of the noise.

She loved them all, this whole damn town but she still needed air. Space. Silence. Her boots and the grass, the weight of the rifle over her shoulder, the tension she feels as she draws a bowstring. Cicadas’ little noises, ivy climbing the bones of old buildings, birds startled into flight. This was life.

That’s all this world still gives them. And Ellie takes it all. She’s not lonely, she’s at peace (Ellie tells herself that’s true).

She drew a doe in her journal before it bolted. Scribbled a few lyrics, hummed a half-finished melody on her way back.

Then the infected came as they always do. Too many. Too fast.

She fired. Ran. Got lucky. Then unlucky: her ankle still aches, new scratches will heal in a week; she stopped notice things like these long time ago. But then, as if by some cruel mercy, Ellie got lucky again.

Now here she is.

A building, mostly intact. No time to identify its past usage. Some old-world thing—windows shattered. The kind of place no one in Jackson would step into alone. Ellie kicks the door in anyway. What’s the alternative? Be torn apart outside—or inside. Her shoulder throbs. Her chest heaves. She looks like she always does, post-fight: like a ghost. Like an evil spirit clawed from Hell.

But in fact she’s just a girl looking for a little quiet.

The door slams shut behind her with a dull clang. For a moment, there’s only her breath—heavy, uneven—and the echo of silence. That kind of silence she feels in  her teeth.

Ellie stays still. One hand still clenched around the rifle, metal warm against her palm. It’s been heating up with her—from the run, from the fight, from the fucking August sun. Now it hums quietly against her skin, like it’s alive too. Tired. Overworked. Just like her.

Ellie shifts the weight of it, closes her eyes and listens. There’s a knife in her pocket, just in case. But no footsteps echo inside. No snarls. Just her breath, the soft ringing in her ears, and the rifle’s warmth seeping into her bones.

The infected are out there though—pacing, maybe sniffing for her. She can almost feel their weeps hanging in the air. That’s why Ellie drags a metal shelf against the door, clicks on her flashlight, and scans the dark lobby.

“Don’t tell me I’m stuck in a fucking high school…” Ellie mumbles with a crooked grin as she sees the scenery.

Thick dust and old footprints mar the faded linoleum. A tattered banner hangs crookedly on the far wall, the mascot barely visible under layers of grime. “Welcome Back, Seniors 2013!” Someone drew a smiley face on it once. It’s half-erased now. Like everything. Beside Ellie, a faded broadcast schedule peels off the wall. “Friday at 7 PM — Indie Night with DJ Alex".

“Did you manage your Indie Night stream, Alex?”

Talking to herself helps. At least she’s still funny as shit. There is no one in the whole world more distant from that meaningless school crap than Ellie. She has empathy, sure—but not understanding. The outbreak took that from her.

She moves on instinct, flashlight jittering as she climbs creaking stairs. Second floor smells like paper rot and something sweet—candy left to die in someone’s locker. Powder floats in the thickness of air, caught in the shafts of light leaking through boarded windows. It’s golden hour outside, and in here, the hallway glows mild, like cider: amber and rich as honey. Ellie takes a breath, and this is what past tastes like—curdled forever time, sweet and gone. It lingers on the tip of her tongue.

At the end of the hall, she finds it: a narrow door with a peeling sign barely clinging to the wood.

Room B33. Broadcast Club.

The sight gives Ellie a strange chill—a flicker of instinct telling her to stay far from that door. Never open it. Run away right into the embrace of the infected instead of stepping inside.

Dina calls it intuition. That gut-wrenching anticipation. Or probably Ellie is just starving and hasn’t eaten since morning. More likely.

She doesn’t believe in intuition. If bad things happen, they happen with no warning. Life is too cruel to send omens.

Ellie opens the door B33 with the full force of that unique Ellie Williams blend of bravery and recklessness. Inside, it feels like time machine. It’s still and weirdly intact. Like someone used to live here—someone who cared a little too much about the room, and the equipment. There are two chairs. A desk scarred with pen marks and age. A dusty mic arcs from the soundboard like a neck craning for attention. Coiled cables. A plastic bin full of old cassette tapes. Handwritten labels:

“Indie Hour (April)”

“Sarah’s breakup advice”

“Prom mix”

“The Friday joke war” (“Oh, this one I could’ve won”, Ellie mutters, her fingers covered in dust sliding through the bin.)

One tape is buried with a warning sticker “KEEP OUT!!! — cringe singing.”

Ellie scoffs, low and dry. The world burns, but cringe survives.

All these messages from the past suddenly hit hard. These little pieces of lives long gone, turned into ashes. Maybe being trapped in a haunted house feels like this. Not scary but endlessly sorrowful. Ellie was never part of it, yet the ache of nostalgia still catches in her chest. Life is unfair. She’s eighteen. Maybe she wants her own prom mix. A girl to ask. Then her deserved breakup advice. And a damn joke war trophy.

The truth is, she never had a choice.

She circles the room. There is a shelf of manuals, a chipped coffee mug with “DJ Charlie” flaking off the side. Not a room—just a box of broken memories. Ellie kicks an empty candy wrapper and sighs. She could’ve been home by now. Eat dinner. Watch a silly movie with Joel. She groans angrily.

“Fuck this school. Fuck the clickers. Fuck the outbreak.”

A beat.

“Just fuck this world.”

In the middle of her mental breakdown, Ellie glances at blotches left by humidity on the paneled walls—and then notices a compact generator tucked beneath the desk, like the most precious treasure in this room, if not in the building itself. Had she gotten lucky again? Its wires still ran into the back of the control panel. Ellie starts it with a gentle turn of a key. For three seconds, she wonders whether it’s alive or dead.

“Please work,” she whispers almost kindly. And it leans into her kindness like a stray cat remembering how it once was tamed. It sputters. Chokes. Then hums. A warm, low vibration—oddly similar to purring—settles in the floorboards.

Then the broadcast room gets its pounding heart back. Lights flicker overhead. Bathed in yellow light, Ellie is wrapped in comfort. The soundboard buzzes awake, all knobs and dials glowing faint amber. Ellie steps forward—she’s barely seen anything like this in her lifetime. It might be useful for Jackson. One of the radio monitors springs to life, blinking with static lines and a shaky signal. Ellie has no idea how to use it.

She slides into the chair, exhales. How had nobody found it before? How is it still working after all this time? Is it dangerous to touch? She’d become so wild. Suspicious. Distant. “Man is a wolf to man,” she has read it in a book. She grew up being a wolf to everybody.

Ellie bites before being bitten.

She never liked wolves.

There is a sign painted in red above the front wall:

“On The Air”

On the table, she finds a long-forgotten dried-out marker, and a sticker on the cork board “Hi! My name is Charlie :) ps. Alison, stay away from my cookies, I save them in case of an apocalypse.”

“And where are your cookies now when I need them so bad, man? Probably rotten, yeah? Like, ‘bout ten years ago.”

Ellie rubs her face, forgetting she’s caked in dirt and blood. She doesn’t look at photographs and other belongings pinned on the board.

Ghosts shouldn’t talk to each other.

She tries to wipe her hands clean with a piece of red cloth, it seems like it was a flag once. “Go Eagles!” Does Ellie like eagles? She considers it as she gets her journal from the backpack. She sketches a quick image of what she thinks an eagle looks like. She concludes that she likes cranes more than eagles.

Radio keeps talking to her in its quiet, delicate manner. Smooth hiss of interference sings gently like a lullaby. Like a lover. Ellie’s fingers brush over the tuning dial. The second she slowly turns it, the desk lamp starts flicking. The diesel might run out any moment. That would be a pity, but Ellie could deal with it. She had nights way more terrible than this one is going to be. She clicks further without special thoughts, without intention and hope. She’s bored and tired. Dina would know how to treat this thing right. Ellie’s just pressing buttons to kill time. There is another note—Charlie, or whoever left that, is getting annoying—“if you can’t hear the signal—reload the broadcast at 95.2 FM.” Ellie narrows her eyes to read scribbles and grins. She rests her head in her palm.

“Fucking radio. Buddies really had hope.” Pure irony in her harsh voice, then a yawn. Last useless click before turning it off and getting some sleep.

Buzz. High-pitched whine.

Then:

A voice. And it's yours.

Ellie jumps up in her chair, half-sleepy. Her fingers release the dials and buttons, heart strangely pounding.

The voice is faint. Female. Crisp, but wrapped in static. Like it’s traveled too far through too many silent lines.

“…I repeat, AA40B, answer my call. Report the situation. Have you got any troubles? This is channel ninety-four point seven, if you’re suddenly unaware. Lisa, if you don’t respond your mother will fucking murder me. Slowly.”

Ellie freezes. Every hair on her arm stands up, sweat on her palms. She leans closer. Her heartbeat is thumping, but not from running, nor from the horde—now something else, something heavier—sinks into her chest.

A living voice.

Not Jackson.

Not recorded.

Alive.

She blinks, slowly, and mutters under her breath.

“…what the fuck?”

And this is the moment when one ghost meets the other.

[gay-dorito-dust]

i need more viktor fluff 👉👈 maybe some nightmare hurt/comfort if possible?

It was hard to remember having a nightmare once you wake up, almost as if it has never happened but yet the unsettling feelings of panic, distress and fear would still thrum through your veins as a reminder that what you experienced wasn’t the most pleasant.

Viktor’s body awoke him from his nightmare as he found himself struggling to catch his breath and calm his heart that was threatening to leap out of his chest, when came your voice from beside him.

‘Viktor?’

He winced, knowing that he must’ve woken you up from your sleep but upon looking at your face, you didn’t seem to mind the disruption at all, if anything you looked to be more concerned with him and his distress that came off of him in waves. ‘Are you okay? You’re looking a little frazzled there.’ You say barely above a whisper as you wiped the perspiration from his forehead with a featherlight touch that had Viktor leaning towards on impulse, closing his eyes as he recognised that he was within safe company.

‘Just a nightmare my love, nothing you should worry yourself over about.’ He finally says for the first time that night, focusing intently on the gentle caresses you give his cheek which felt like a thousand kisses within a single caress, before reopening his beautiful eyes to get a better look of you. Your eyes were half lidded, aching for the sleep he drew you from and creased pyjamas from constantly shifting for a better sleeping position, but you still looked beautiful to Viktor in the light of your bedside lamp; highlighting your features to make you look even more like an angel.

You raised a brow, not at all entirely convinced. ‘If you know me at all Viktor then you’ll know that I’ll always worry about you.’ Viktor sighs as you shuffled closer to him, pulling him into resting his head against your chest and you rubbing his back soothingly. You were too good for him but he couldn’t help but be selfish and melt into your embrace, listening to your steady heart and wiling his own to follow by example until your hearts were beating in a calming unison. Viktor felt selfish for keeping you to himself, but no one else loved him like you did and he didn’t want to loose that; Sure he overworked himself and that meant he didn’t have much time to spend with you, something he still feels incredibly bad about, but when you hold his face and kiss it like you’ll never do so again it made him believe he was worth being loved.

‘Sometimes I wish you didn’t have to worry over me.’ Viktor admits as he closes his eyes again, they felt heavy like lead, and your presence and warmth did nothing but make him all but ache for sleep. ‘I’m not worth it.’ He adds softly, thinking you didn’t hear it but unfortunately you did and you kissed the top of his head while tightening your hold on him. ‘You’re more then worth my worry Viktor, and you’re even more worth my love too while we’re at it,’ you began as you rested your head atop of his, ‘you have no idea how beautiful and pretty you are to me that I often loose my breath near you, and don’t even get me started on how attractive you are as your solving equations and writing notes down like your life depends on it.’ You felt Viktor stiffen in your hold and rubbed his back in response.

‘I honestly have to try my hardest to not just fucking kiss you senseless when you’re hard at work.’ You chuckle to yourself as you remembered all the times where you couldn’t help how you felt towards the scientist hellbent on bettering the lives of the less fortunate, an admirable thing indeed and you couldn’t help but fall harder for his heart like you did with the rest of him. ‘God you’re so fucking beautiful that I fell at the first sight of your amber eyes and your voice. It’s like an angel singing in my ears and I’ve needed let up since.’ You finished.

Viktor didn’t know what to say, you left him speechless with your raw emotions towards him, they left him warm and weightless in the best ways imaginable, and he knew that no matter what he’d say you would always finds words and string them together so eloquently that it leaves him having to accept your words as the uttermost truth. ‘You sure you weren’t a poet in a past life my love? For it seemed that you can weave poetry without even having to try.’ He says softy as he looks at you with a smile, gracefully accepting a kiss that you planted on his lips, feeling himself becoming whole just by the sound of your laugh.

‘No, that’s just love speaking Viktor.’ You replied softly. ‘It tends to make you do things and say things that you didn’t know you could. It can make you brave but I can make you reckless at the same time, love is a double edged sword that can either enlighten your look on life or darken it.’ You kissed his lips again, smiling to yourself when you feel him chase after your lips to give you a kiss of his own. ‘And you Viktor have brightened my life in ways that I thank everyday that I have you in my life.’ You finished as you looked deep into his amber eyes and seeing your forever in them as you rest your forehead against his own, breathing in unison as the nightmare that haunted Viktor vanished within your light.

‘And I am thankful for you being in my life, my light and my muse.’ Viktor replied as he took in this moment in hopes of engraving every last detail into his mind, mainly for his own selfish purposes, before sleep overcame his mind as he buried himself back into your chest and slowly but surely drift back to sleep. It didn’t take long for you to follow suit as you kissed his head and got yourself comfortable before feeling sleep overcome you too. So you tightened your hold on Viktor and welcomed sleep in hopes of seeing him there waiting for you.

[vixstarria]

A night at the inn (part 3)

Vampire bites as an aphrodisiac edition

Part 1 (fluff to smut) ~ Part 2 (just smut) (Is it required reading? Ehh... But you might as well, no?)

This one gets a bit deranged.

Astarion x F!Tav/F!Reader x Halsin

18+, smut, threesome, porn no plot, dirty talk, oral sex, PIV, blood drinking, soft dom Astarion, Astarion being a little shit, Halsin being rudely awakened in order to fuck nasty style again

Approx. 3,000 words this time (I uh... I don't know)

AO3

The first thought in your mind when you regained consciousness was “did that really happen?”, along with a flashback to the two elves in and around you. Halsin’s gentle, towering bulk. And Astarion finally allowing you to pleasure him, if only a little bit.  

You picked up the sound of Halsin snoring on the other bed. His favoured wildshape was all too fitting - he certainly sounded like a bear now. Weren’t elves supposed to trance? Silently? 

...So it happened. It really happened. ...It was going to be an interesting day.  

You opened your eyes. 

Astarion was already awake, lying beside you and admiring you through his lashes, a light smile on his face. It deepened when you met his gaze.  

Your immediate impulse was to ask him about last night, but you held your tongue, instead looking for answers in his eyes.  

No darkness, nothing that resembled shame or regret... Only warmth and affection as he softly ran the back of his fingers down your cheek until they reached your chin, to gently tilt it towards him, drawing you for a kiss.  

It was soft at first. Just your lips brushing and lingering on each other’s, until with a soft sigh he drew you in deeper. 

He traced the inner edge of your upper lip with his tongue. It tickled, and you parted your lips, letting him in. You tried to brush your tongue against his, but he retracted it as soon as you moved. Only once you held still did he return with his tongue, running it in circles around the tip of yours, running it up your tongue’s underside, teasing. It was so distinct, it was almost... 

You gasped with a sharp intake of breath when you realised what he was doing.  

These were the motions of your tongue on the head of his cock last night. This whole kiss was a vulgar, teasing reminder of what you’d done for him. His way of showing you that he hadn’t forgotten about it, that it’s been on his mind. 

Gods... It felt so obscene. 

You moaned as he brought your naked body closer to his partially clothed form, holding you close, a fire starting to reignite between your legs already.  

His lips split into a grin in the knowledge that you’d caught on, and he broke the kiss, giving you an unabashed look full of lust. 

“Will you let me do it again?” you whisper, hoarsely. 

“In time...” he replied. “For now there’s more I want to do to you.” 

“To me?” 

He grinned, mischievously, then glanced at Halsin’s sleeping mass.  

“For both of us to do to you, actually. If you want to try something new?” 

“Now?” 

“Why not?” 

“For one, Halsin's still asleep,” you said. Astarion rolled his eyes at you.  

“Psst, Halsin. ...Halsin. ...Halsin! ...HALSIN!” Astarion hurled a pillow at the groggy druid, who somehow managed to catch it in midair before it smashed into his face. 

“Hmm?” a low rumble reverberated in his chest as he stirred awake.  

“Do you want to try something?” 

“...What?” 

“It’s a yes or no question.” 

“...Yes.” 

Halsin, still half-asleep, opened his eyes to observe the two of you as Astarion turned back to you, rolling on top and continuing in a louder voice.  

“See? Problem solved. Anyway. I was thinking... You say your body stays sensitive around the puncture wounds for a long time after I bite you,” he said, running his fingers delicately along the wounds on your neck. 

“It’s still tender,” you nodded, relishing his touch. 

“Tender how?” he asked softly, lowering his lips to the marks on your neck.  

“It feels... sweet. Like I don’t want you to ever stop touching it,” you said, closing your eyes and revelling in the sensation. “I don’t know how else to describe it.” 

“A vampire’s bite has aphrodisiac properties,” offered Halsin. “It is well-known.” 

“What if I were to bite you somewhere more... interesting.” Astarion began to kiss further down, grazing you with his fangs without drawing blood. Halsin, more awake now, propped himself up on his elbow to lie on his side.  

“Where?” you breathed as Astarion continued on his way down, pausing to suck on a nipple. He only smiled and kept trailing soft kisses down your stomach, gradually pulling the covers off you as he went lower, until he reached your upper inner thighs.  

“What if...” he purred, starting to run his tongue along your outer folds, making you moan and spread your legs wider for him. “I left a gentle little bite right here...” He continued to run his tongue on your skin, just between your opening and your thigh. “Do you think you would like that..?” Before you could answer, he added: “Oh, and it’s incredibly distracting when you’re so wet while I’m trying to talk to you,” before plunging his tongue inside you as you gasped.  

“Did you wake me merely so I could watch?” Halsin asked, reaching down to stroke his growing erection. 

Astarion gestured for him to wait. 

“Do it,” you moaned. “Bite me there.” 

Astarion continued to lap at your hole, running his hands along your thighs, holding them open.  

“Stop teasing, damn you!” you hissed. 

Astarion chuckled and moved his head to lick you just outside your opening, sucking your lip into his mouth. Suddenly his grip on your thighs tightened and before you knew it, you felt a sharp icy pang. You whined as he continued to suck, this time drawing blood. The pain quickly dissipated and turned into a titillating sensation that spread throughout your sex.  

Astarion lifted his head, sitting up and inserting two fingers into you.  

“Now how does that feel, darling?” 

“Good... So good...” you groaned, spreading your legs wider for him, bucking your hips to ride his fingers. It felt like an insatiable, throbbing itch, his fingers your only salvation. 

“I must tell you,” you heard Halsin. “I overheard some of your remarks about wood elves earlier. And you would do well to trust me that few of my brethren are as depraved as you.” 

Astarion ignored the druid, absorbed in watching you writhe.  

“Do you like it? Do you want more? You do, don’t you... We can give you more...” You whimpered as Astarion continued to slowly fuck you with his fingers. “But first... What if I bite you somewhere else?”  

His tongue returned between your legs, licking higher and higher, until it circled your bundle of nerves.  

“Just a tiny little nick, right above your sweet nub. I’ll be very careful, I promise,” he murmured right against your clit, in between licks, as you mewled. “I’ll be gentle... And then I’ll kiss it better. I’ll kiss it, lick it, suck it better...” 

“I stand corrected... None of my people can rival you in perversion,” said Halsin. 

Meanwhile, your fingers were tangled in Astarion’s hair as he continued to tease you with his fingers and tongue. As good as it felt, the only word in your mind was ‘more’.  

“Do it,” you say, hoarsely. “I want to know how it feels.” 

Astarion chuckled, turning to Halsin. 

“You druids have an intrinsic urge to tend to helpless creatures in need, do you not?” Astarion said, as Halsin continued to stroke himself. “This helpless creature is about to be in great need.” He looked up at you, hungrily. “Try to hold still, my love.” 

This time the pang made you yelp and lurch up in shock, your hands grabbing at the bedsheets. But the pain subsided as quickly as it came on, replaced by an unquenchable burning need.  

It throbbed. It pulsed. It begged to be touched.  

Astarion did as he promised licking and sucking on your clit, his cool tongue like a salve, but before you could find any kind of release, he abruptly rose, pinning your arms above your head as you groaned in protest. 

“My, look at this predicament you’ve gotten yourself into again, pet...” 

“Please... please... anything... I’ll do anything you say.” you begged. Your need could not be ignored like this. You tried to squeeze your legs together for some friction, but he was keeping your legs spread open with his own thighs. Maybe if you told him what you wanted he would cut this agony short..? “Touch me... Fuck me... Anything..!” 

“What did I tell you?” he said, turning to Halsin. “But my sweet,” he said turning back to you. “You said you wanted to know what it felt like. Maybe we should leave you like this so you can study and savour the sensation.” 

“Astarion?” you managed, swallowing hard. 

“Yes, darling?” 

“Fuck you, Astarion,” you hissed through your teeth. You turned to the druid, looking him in the eyes and bucking your hips in desperation. “Halsin..?”  

“Give her to me,” the druid growled. 

“Oh no! There will be no mutiny! Make no mistake, I’m still the one calling the shots here,” Astarion laughed. “...But seeing as you’re all so eager – sure.” He released your hands and raised you into a sitting position. “On the edge of the bed,” he gestured to Halsin, the druid complying without another word. “And you...” he held you by your jaw, his voice lowering. “I’ll let that slip by, but if you want me to allow you any relief, you will behave.” 

You nodded, whimpering. 

“Now do you want to ride his cock?” 

“Yes,” you panted. Astarion just raised an eyebrow and didn’t make a move. “Yes, please, can I?” 

“She’s yours,” he said to Halsin, with a smirk. 

Suddenly you were lifted and found yourself on the druid’s lap on the opposite bed, your back against him, both of you facing Astarion.  

“You can fuck that needy hole of hers all you want, but don’t touch her between her legs,” he said, reclining to admire his handiwork. 

You were gliding your slit along Halsin’s shaft, covering his erection with your juices. It was something, but not nearly enough. 

Halsin lifted you and began to ease you onto his cock, once again slowly, inch by inch.  

“You don’t need to be so gentle,” you groaned.  

“No no, slow and gentle is exactly what she deserves right now,” Astarion interjected, as you swore under your breath. “And don’t you dare touch yourself,” he said to you. You knew better than to defy him, and clutched at Halsin instead. 

Halsin’s hands remained on the undersides of your thighs, your legs opened wide for Astarion’s devouring eyes, gripping you as he worked his cock inside you, raising and lowering your body along his length. It was agonisingly slow, and though it appeased the itch from Astarion’s lower bite, somewhat, it did nothing for your throbbing clit.  

“You said you’d kiss it better, you fucking liar,” you threw at Astarion, your voice thick.  

“What did I say about behaving?” said Astarion.  

“Astarion, it hurts without you,” you groaned. “Please? My love..? I’m begging you.” 

Astarion sighed dramatically, finally getting off the bed to kneel on the floor in front of you. 

“Well we don’t want you in pain,” he murmured.  

Finally, you felt Astarion’s mouth on your swollen sex, as he stroked your clit with his tongue. A moan tore from your throat as Halsin sped up the bucking of his hips, his thrusts in time with the strokes of Astarion’s tongue. This. This was what you had been craving so badly. The druid stretched and filled you completely, while Astarion’s tongue brought you to the edge of madness. And you could do absolutely nothing but accept and embrace what was happening to you. It wasn’t long before your whole body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, Halsin holding you tightly against him.  

Once you’d regained your senses, you noticed that somewhere along the way Astarion had completely discarded his pants, and was now stroking himself with one hand, as he rubbed a thumb over your oversensitive clit.  

“Hmm,” he hummed, studying it. “I don’t think it’s better yet.” 

You nearly screamed as he went right back to sucking on it, alternating that with quick flicks of his tongue. 

“Shh, sweet one...” Halsin breathed in your ear, placing a hand over your mouth, and lifting your hand into his hair with the other. “Yank on it hard if it’s too much. Can you do that?” You whimpered a ‘mmhmm’ as you grabbed a fistful. 

Halsin leaned back on the bed so you were half-lying on top of him, your head thrown over his shoulder, as Astarion held your thighs open. 

Astarion showed you no mercy as he lapped at you. Halsin sped up again, as you let out keening moans into his hand, losing your mind. There was no easing and relaxing into this - this orgasm was forced out of you, and you loved every second of it. Within a minute you came again, your thighs twitching violently.  

Halsin groaned as you spasmed around him again. 

“I cannot do this anymore... If she clenches around me like that again I will lose it.” 

The druid slipped out of you and you were once again gliding along the length of his shaft, rubbing yourself against it.  

Astarion lifted his mouth from you, wiping your wetness from his chin, as Halsin raised you back into a sitting position. 

“He’s been so very patient with you, pet. Do you want to show your appreciation?” 

“How?” you whispered, licking your lips. 

“I think you already know how,” he murmured. “Come here. On your knees.” 

You all but collapsed on the floor next to Astarion, your legs unsteady, looking up at Halsin.  

“Taste him,” Astarion encouraged you. “You haven’t yet.” 

“Oakfather preserve me,” Halsin groaned as you took his engorged, leaking cock into your hand. You were facing a dilemma. You didn’t think you could fit him into your mouth without dislocating your jaw. Instead you began by licking your juices off his length, savouring your own taste.  

“Good girl,” Astarion purred next to you, sliding two fingers into your still throbbing pussy, as he stroked himself with his other hand.  

You moaned and moved up to the head of Halsin’s cock with your mouth, licking up his precum, as the druid brushed your hair off your face and held it back for you. No, this wasn’t going to work. Instead you worked him with your hand as you moved down to lick and suck on his balls.  

“I’m close,” Halsin groaned, throwing his head back, his fingernails scraping against your scalp. 

“Suck on the head,” Astarion whispered beside you, continuing to dig his fingers into you, rougher now. “You can manage it.” 

You moaned as you worked the tip of his penis into your mouth, slurping and sucking around it, wetly. This much you could do.  

“Good...” Astarion whispered hoarsely, moving behind you. He was starting to shudder as he bit down on your shoulder, not hard enough to draw blood, continuing his efforts to tear another orgasm out of you. He couldn’t have been far himself. “Make him come.” 

Halsin’s cock twitched and pulsed in warning as you continued, the druid’s grip on your hair tightening.  

“Swallow,” Astarion commanded, just as the druid finally spilled in your mouth. You glimpsed a few more strokes of Astarion’s hand from the corner of your eye, and you felt Astarion’s spend land in spurts on your back.  

You sat back with a frustrated groan. His fingers inside you hadn’t been enough. 

“My poor little minx...” Astarion murmured, catching his breath, kissing your neck up to your ear from behind you. “I know what you need. You’ve earned it.” He moved his hand to finally rub your clit again, massaging it roughly and deliberately. “Can you come for me one more time?” he whispered in your ear. “And here, let me taste him too.” 

You came completely undone once Astarion’s tongue swirled hungrily against yours, as he continued to methodically work on your swollen clit, moaning and whimpering into his mouth through your climax.  

“I don’t think I can walk,” you said a short while later, relaxing in Astarion’s embrace after he'd cleaned the better part of your combined cum from your body. It was mid-morning by then. Miraculously, no one had come to bang on your door to try to get a move on, but then again anyone in the vicinity of the room would’ve immediately understood what was happening inside. 

“Shall I go tell everyone you’re unwell, darling?” Astarion asked with a grin. 

“Don’t you fucking dare speak to anyone about this or me, you’re staying right here,” you said as he laughed “...I don’t think they will be impressed that we’re all delayed because I’ve been fucked into incapacity,” you added.  

“Oh on the contrary, I think they will be VERY impressed,“ said Astarion. 

“I’ll go tell them you’re currently indisposed. ...A tad more tactfully. And I’ll see to it that a bath is prepared for you,” said Halsin, getting up and getting dressed. 

“Thank you, Halsin... You are a blessing,” you said, shutting your eyes and falling back against Astarion as he left kisses along the side of your face.  

Halsin hesitated at the door.  

“Before I leave this room, I must know... Once this door shuts behind me, is... this-” he gestured at the three of you, “staying behind as well? Or can the future hold something for us?” The druid would accept whichever answer you gave him, but you could tell he was a hair’s breadth from a pained expression.  

You and Astarion exchanged a look. You had gotten good at silent communication. It was Astarion who finally spoke.  

“It doesn’t have to stay behind. You’ve been better for us than you might realize,” he shook his head with a small smile. “But let’s talk about that later.”  

“I am glad,” Halsin said, smiling, before leaving. 

“You think catnip is difficult to live down?” You groaned again, once Halsin was gone, twisting and hiding your face in Astarion’s neck. 

“You should be proud,” he chuckled, hugging you tighter. “How do you feel..?” 

“Fine, right now... It still throbs a bit, but I can ignore it. But it's been coming on in waves, I don’t know if there’s another coming or how big it might be.” 

“Let me know if one does, I’ll take care of you,” he whispered, kissing you.  

“Astarion?” you murmured, breaking the kiss. 

“Hmm?” 

“Can we do this again? Just the two of us? Later.”  

You both knew what you meant by ‘later’. 

“Greedy...” he smiled. “But yes. Once all this is behind us and we can just lounge in bed all day and night.” 

“I can’t wait,” you whispered. 

~~~~~

Astarion's, Halsin's and Tav's story together continues in 'Sweat'

AO3

Series masterlist

~~~~~

Tags: @twirlywhirlywriting - Hi! You are the reason this happened. I wasn't really planning on a part 3, but it clicked in my brain. Hope it's close enough to what you had in mind. I couldn't really give Halsin a more dom role though, as I think Astarion would lose his shit at this point.

@littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy

[starshinewritesalot]

Steve X Reader X Garrett - [Best of Both Worlds]

SFW, GN!Reader, canon-faithful writing and fun times all around

Steve hasn’t had much action in his life, relationship wise. Always alienated in school, maybe had a few flings in adulthood, but people always sought him out for a good time rather than a real commitment… But then there was you.

Something about you, when you stumbled into the Overworld alongside your other roundling friends… You stood out, not in the way that Henry did but… Something else.

Dawn and Natalie were indifferent, Garrett was more than infuriating, but you were a surprising addition to the crew in the fact that you took a shine to him and his architecture almost instantly.

When he spoke you listened, even seemed impressed with his talent. No one else seemed to care about the time and effort that went into this world, most of it being done by his hand. It was nice to feel appreciated, to feel seen.

As a modern gamer yourself you took to the mechanics of the world almost instantly, Steve was almost flustered albeit impressed. He'd be in the middle of explaining something as simple as a crafting table with his usual gusto, and then boom! You'd just make one yourself. Tools? Easy. Armor? Easier! And mining... Hoo boy, he had to keep you from strip mining through an entire mountain, despite how much he'd love to join.

"You found iron already?! It took me forever to get out of the stone age!"

Since you weren't such a try-hard like Gar-Gar he was happy to nurture you and Henry's creative impulses, though the Garbage Man himself was rather jealous of how quickly you got a handle on things (and especially how you got ahold of Steve's attention. He couldn't tell who he was more jealous of, truthfully).

During a late night campfire session you even had it in you to ask about his life before the Overworld.

“Steve..?”

“Yeeeees?”

“What was your life like before the Overworld..? I know you said it was boring and all, but what made you choose to stay here for so long?”

If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was running from something.

He drew a deep breath in as he laid next to you under the stars, pursing his lips together. Despite being such a silly guy, you could tell there was a lot more going on underneath his braggadocios exterior.

“In my world… Well, our world, I was very lonely. I knew no one would miss me, so I stayed here where I found purpose. There was nothing I couldn’t do, nothing I couldn’t build… The sky's the limit. You know how expensive it is to build a house in the real world, kid?”

His tone was joking but he wasn’t necessarily wrong, it was a cruel world outside of the cubes.

“Yeah, I know… Sucks not having more people like you around though. The real world sure could use a Steve or two.”

He chuckled, hands clasped over his tummy, but his laughter was short lived when he heard a fake gag coming from the tent you originally shared with Garrett.

“Ugh, are you two sapheads gonna be up all night? Tryin’ to get some beauty sleep in here!”

Garrett had not been a fan of how close you and Steve had become over the course of this adventure. At all.

Leading up to the discovery of the portal, Garrett had been scheming of ways to ask you out without making it seem too obvious.

Your job had you fly out to Chuglass for a higher position in the company, but once you got there you found out the position they offered had already been taken somehow. This was after you’d already spent your savings moving and flying of course, so you were actively trying to save up so that you could get back home soon.

You swung by his store pretty often to sell some of your old junk, you knew he was lowballing you so you’d either have to heckle or concede to seeing one of your previously precious relics up on the shelf for double the price you sold it a week later.

Even so, this had become somewhat of a ritual for the two of you. As more of your boxes made the trip across the country you’d visit again, the cycle would continue. Although he was a stingy ass, there was an odd charm to him that you couldn’t quite place. Something that drew you back to the store far more than the prices.

As you leafed through some of the used CDs he kept replaying scenarios in his head, trying to figure out how he’d go about asking you on a date.

“Hey person who I argue with and resell shit from constantly, wanna go on a date? Not like you have many other guys to select from since most everyone else around here is a middle aged loon!”

“No, no, that’s terrible…” He murmured right as you had pulled out a CD you were interested in.

You shot him a glare in response, presuming he was judging your music taste.

“No, not you,” He waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head. Before the two of you could get into it, Hank walked in and the whole cube thing happened. There went his one and only shot of asking you out prior to this fiasco, and he blew it just like he does everything else.

It's not as though it got particularly better in the Overworld either, left and right he kept making a fool of himself.

While you excelled at crafting, mining, and combat, he was bumbling around like an oaf trying to talk to sheep and wielding buckchuckets. He'd never been more embarrassed, and exceedingly unwilling to admit it at that.

He wagered that he must look like a real dumbass in your eyes. A real Boo Boo the Fool. That may have been true to some degree, but unbeknownst to him it only endeared him to you more.

The lengths he'd go just to one-up you and Steve were comical, it was kind of cute seeing him act so cocky and then pout right after when it went awry.

You wanted to console him deep down, but you knew that would just make him feel justified in his petty antics so you refrained, wrestling back a bemused smile all the while.

Steve felt the same exact way, even if his macho exterior wouldn't allow such sentiments to bleed through.

I mean, when was the last time he had another man his age around? Even with Garrett's hidden indentions, Steve enjoyed their little banter and pseudo-rivalry. There was no competition really, but it was nice to see him try!

And, while the average observer may think Steve was annoyed or felt disrespected, it was truly the opposite. You may have recognized Steve from a different angle, but Garrett quintessentially met him on his level. Mano y mano, if you will. He saw him as a worthy competitor and acted accordingly, he didn't treat him like some dopey accountant who couldn't do anything for himself, no! He treated him like a man... Steve liked that.

With all of this in mind, it still didn't prevent tensions from rising. You and Garrett got into a spat that night at the campsite, since he conveniently liked to act up when you and Steve were having genuine moments together. The night ended with you switching to Steve's tent, MUCH to Gar-Gar's dismay, and the very next day a brawl broke out at the nearby village that caused you to separate from him, Steve, and Henry.

Dawn and Natalie tried to comfort you as best they could, Nat being pretty oblivious to the obvious romantic tension sizzling like hot lava chicken between you and the other two men on the team.

"I'm just worried about them, we left things off really shitty... Me and Garrett, then you and Henry... It's like we just can't stop fighting..."

"Ugh, that toolbag could start a fight with a baby if he wanted to. He'll get over it, and Henry... I just want him to be safe right now. I think... Well, I hope Steve can do at least that..." She seemed to be lost in thought as she helped you row the boat you crafted while Dawn read the map.

"There's a fork up ahead... We need to take a right..." Dawn murmured as she studied the details of the map, furrowing her brows at the big red section up ahead. Maybe the woodland mansion was past the mushroom forest..? Could be possible...

The ride was quiet for the most part, but while you and the girls were peacefully sailing the boys were fighting for their lives trying to out-fly the piglins. Sadly you had to miss out on Steve and Garrett’s midair kiss, but you never anticipated that you’d only reunite with one of them later in your journey.

Steve laid there motionless on the bed with Dennis curled up at the foot of it, the rise and fall of his chest being the only sign of life. He was healed, peaceful, and he looked so beautiful just lying there beneath the sun and getting some proper rest… His survival brought you peace, but he lack of a certain someone’s presence was still very concerning.

After a while of you sitting at his bedside Dennis got up and began to lick Steve’s beard, the old man slowly stirring and eventually giggling at the ticklish feeling. “Dennis! It’s really you!” He sat up and gave his faithful companion some good scritches, grinning at the pooch. As he turned to you his expression softened, not necessarily in a bad way just… Different.

“And you, Y/N…”

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but he knew now wasn’t the time… The battle wasn’t over, and he already knew what your first words to him were going to be.

“Where’s Garrett?”

“Gar-Gar, he’s…” He trailed off.

Nat, who was seated next to Henry on his bed, looked over at you with a grave expression.

“I don’t know,” Steve finished softly, casting his brown eyes onto the ground. “He fought bravely, but the piglins had us surrounded. He… Sacrificed himself to save Henry and I. He lived and unalived like the warrior he was.” He nodded solemnly as you covered your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes. “N-No, it can’t be…”

He put a hand on your shoulder tentatively, he half expected you to shrink away but to his surprise you threw yourself onto him, crying into the crook of his neck and holding him tight. He hated to see you this way, but he also felt honored that you’d choose him as a source of comfort. He ran his calloused hands along your back doing his best to console you. He was pretty torn up about it himself, but he didn’t want you to see that side of him yet. Garrett wouldn’t want him crying over it anyway.

Dawn and Natalie did their best to be supportive while you were grieving, hell even Henry was trying to cheer you up. There was nothing they could do though, as the only thing that could sate your sadness was bloodshed and revenge.

You crafted yourself a pair of diamond nunchucks in Garrett’s honor, making it your mission to tear through every piglin in sight. In your rage you’d adopted some of Garrett’s mannerisms and cockiness, even stealing some frags from Natalie as you fought alongside her. It was annoying but you were going through it, and it was too late to argue with too many important things on the line right now.

With the raging emotions at the forefront of your mind, you didn't think to question sending Henry to go get the orb despite being the only child on the team. He was the only one not drowning in pork right now, so you kept up the good fight while he scaled the nether portal by his lonesome. Although it seemed the war had been won, a blast from The Great Hog sent Henry flying. The thought of losing another team member so soon after the other sent a pang of shock through your chest, but that wasn't going to happen... Not on Garrett's watch.

The Garbage Man swooped in valiantly, saddled beneath a Ghast using his arms to steer the beast.

For a second you couldn't tell who it was, but upon recognizing that pink tasseled jacket and long flowing hair it dawned on you that your brave knight managed to beat the odds and survive!

After him and Hank's brief reunion and acquisition of the orb. you called for him--nay--screamed for him, shouting his name until he landed nearby.

As the piglins crumbled around you he came running, hugging you first out of everyone else. He swooped you up and swung you around, laughing like a madman.

"I thought I'd never see you again..!" Everyone aside from Steve, who was busy finishing off Malgosha, surrounded you in preparation for the epic group hug that was about to happen. They wanted you two to have your moment first though.

"Y yo tu, which is... Me too, in Spanish," He placed a rough hand on the side of your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb as he gazed down at you lovingly.

"Te amo," You murmured softly.

"... Whuh?"

"Te amo," You reiterated.

He nodded, though still maintained a confused expression.

"That means I love you in Spanish," You raised a brow at him, your wistful smile curling into a frown.

"OHHH right, right... Yeah, love you too babe," He leaned down to give you an amorous kiss, his scruffy beard tickling your face as he held the back of your head firmly.

Henry gagged jokingly, Natalie crossed her arms and shook her head, and Dawn simply smiled and nodded. "Oh, I been knew somethin' was goin' on with those two."

Just when the kiss began to last long enough to get awkward, Steve arrived in what remained of his diamond armor, a solemn look on his face. He cleared his throat when he grew near, prompting you and the Garbage Man to separate. The two of you looked at each other and then at Steve, happy and yet... Almost guilty.

He smiled, it was pained, but a smile nonetheless.

"It's about time, you two... You always bickered like an old married couple," He glanced at the two of you as he knelt down to pet and sing to Dennis, a truly heartfelt farewell ballad. You and Garrett held hands the whole way through, but you knew things didn't have to end this way.

Garrett untangled his fingers from yours to approach Steve, the two of them locking arms like they did when they first met. "I respect your decision to stay, but out there I don't have too many, uh, friends my own age."

Steve shook his head, "Nah, you'll be fine. You have Y/N now," He gestured his head towards you, wearing an expression of defeat. Garrett had beat him in the battle to win your heart, fair and square... That's what he thought at least.

"Go on home Gar-Gar, you two can keep each other warm on winter nights, take Dennis to the beach during the summer, all that fun stuff..."

To your surprise, Garrett held Steve's face just as he had held yours, swiping his thumb in the same way.

"If you say so brochacho, but if you ask me... Every good movie series is a trilogy. Think about that," He released him, gaze lingering on the turquoise bloused male for a little too long before hooking an arm around your shoulder and walking towards the portal with you.

Natalie's parting words and yours from the campsite lingered with him as he watched you and the gang walk away together, the gears slowly beginning to shift in his mind.

"We could use some of that magic in the real world."

"The real world sure could use a Steve or two."

"Every good movie series is a trilogy. Think about that."

He took one last look at the Overworld, something told him this wouldn't be his last time here but for now...

"Ah, screw it. It's about time I craft something in the real word that I can call mine."

He ran after you guys and into the portal, nearly tripping into you and Garrett on his way out.

"Steve!" Everyone shouted in unison, crowding around him and suffocating him in one big hug. While the others pulled away you and Gar-Gar looked at each other knowingly, nodded, and then each planted a big wet kiss on each side of Steve's face--much to his surprise.

His face flushed as brightly as redstone, whipping his head back and forth to look at you both in disbelief. "What the--?! Y-You two... This whole time?!"

"I thought it was kinda obvious, I just didn't say anything," Henry shrugged and walked off ahead of everyone else, having no desire to sit here and watch all three of his mentors kiss at the same time. "I second that," Dawn agreed, staying by his side to make sure he didn't wander off again. "I... Honestly had no idea," Nat sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, lingering briefly before letting you three have some proper alone time in the mines together.

"Wow... For a second there I was scared I lost the two of you as friends, but now," Steve chuckled. "It seems I have both of you in a very different way."

"It was a hard choice for a while," You admitted, rubbing his belly gently through his unisex cyan shirt. "But then I realized I didn't have to choose at all. If you're building a house and can't decide between spruce or birch, just use both."

"Yeah, what they said... I didn't win gamer of the year by only playin' one character on the roster," He gave Steve's stomach a firm pat, grabbing the flesh and giving it a little shake earning a small "oof!" from the older man.

"C'mon you guys, lets go home."

As all of you walked off into the sunset without any real idea of whose house you'd be heading to, the future seemed bright for the three of you. Normally thinking far ahead filled you with a sense of dread, but after surviving the challenges of this life and the perils of another you realize that meeting both of these men at the same time in your life truly is the best of both worlds.

[sailornymph]

hihi! hope you’re doing well :)

after reading your yandere!bruno piece, it got me thinking about what it would be like if, after meeting Capri reader and seeing their relationship with Bruno & how protective he is, the members of the Bucciarati gang became platonic yanderes for reader? like who would be the most likely to become a platonic yandere? i personally feel like it’s between Narancia and whoever Bruno asks to watch over reader the most when he has no other options and can’t look after reader himself. could i get some headcannons please?

tysm <3

we’re not obsessed, we’re protective; bucci gang

synopsis — after seeing how overprotective bruno is of you, the rest of the gang starts to spiral a little.

content warning — platonic yandere behavior, threats of violence, no one lets you walk alone ever again

♡ narancia ghirga

— it all started when bruno said, “stay close to her.” and narancia took that like an order from god. if she mattered to the capo, she mattered to him. forever.

— he doesn’t think of you romantically — to him, you’re family. sacred. like a shrine he guards with a knife in his boot and a juice box in his hand.

— calls you “big sis” when he’s being sweet, “bruno’s girl” when he’s reminding others not to get cute.

— treats you like a princess, a saint, and an endangered species all at once. you once tripped and he called bruno mid-panic.

— drew an entire comic about saving you from kidnappers. it was 13 pages, color-coded, with a special move called “flaming loyalty uppercut.”

— believes everyone outside the team is a threat. the mailman, the post office, a lady who once asked you for directions — all suspicious.

— cried when you let him hold your umbrella. said he’d never forget the moment. you were just trying not to get soaked.

— once ran across the street and shoved a stranger for saying “hey” to you. then bought you a smoothie like nothing happened.

— bruno once said “she’s under our protection,” and narancia now recites it like a war motto. he will bite people for you.

— 8.7/10 — overly attached little brother energy. feral loyalty. zero romantic confusion. just reverence.

you open your door at 6:48 a.m. narancia is sitting cross-legged on the steps with a backpack, a switchblade, and a bag of corn chips. he perks up the second you appear.

“you’re awake!” he grins. “i brought snacks.”

“…did you sleep here?”

“nah,” he shrugs. “just keeping watch. bruno said to stay close.”

you sigh, motioning for him to come inside. he follows you into the kitchen like a shadow, glancing at the windows, the hallway, the cabinets.

“you know,” you mutter, pouring coffee, “i can handle myself.”

he frowns. “you’re not supposed to. not when you’ve got people like us.”

“like us?”

“like bruno. and me,” he says, serious now. “you’re with our capo. that means something.” you glance at him.

“you make him softer,” narancia says quietly. “happier. and i don’t want anything to mess that up. not just ’cause he cares. but ’cause i do too.”

you soften. “…narancia—”

he digs something from his pocket. it’s a hand-drawn “protection license,” covered in doodles, with your name written in glitter pen and “approved by the squad” underlined in red.

“i made this official,” he says proudly. “no one gets near you unless they get my okay.”

you try to laugh, but he’s completely serious and somehow, that makes it feel safe. ridiculous. but safe.

because narancia may be impulsive, dramatic, and half-feral — but his loyalty runs deep. and if you’re important to bruno, then to narancia? you’re everything.

♡ giorno giovanna

— giorno wasn’t supposed to care. you were just “the woman our capo protects.” another liability, until you smiled at him — not out of fear, not out of obligation, just… kindness.

— he doesn’t love you, not like bruno does. he knows you belong to the capo, and he respects that line like sacred ground. but that doesn’t stop him from building a fortress around you in silence.

— he starts subtle, makes sure you’re driven everywhere, adjusts the team’s routes so you’re always near backup, reroutes danger like he was playing chess.

— keeps files on anyone who interacts with you more than once. the florist, your dentist, a neighbor who waved too long — all categorized. all watched.

— you mention a headache? you wake up with tea and rare herbs on your doorstep. a stalker follows you? they’re gone by morning. no explanation.

— you once told him you felt “safe” around him. he didn’t speak for a full minute. when he did, it was only, “good. that means i’m doing my job.”

— doesn’t smile often, but when you call him dependable, his entire expression softens for half a second.

— respects bruno’s attachment to you — but watches closely to make sure you’re treated like the treasure you are. not because he doubts bruno because he doesn’t trust fate.

— gold experience healed a paper cut on your hand once, and he didn’t let go until he was sure you weren’t in pain. you were just trying to open mail.

— 9.5/10 — surgical obsession. terrifyingly polite. sees himself as your guardian, not your equal.

you wake up to a fruit basket on your balcony. lemons, lavender, honeycomb — everything you’d ever mentioned liking. no note. no name, but the placement is too deliberate to be random. you already know who sent it.

you find giorno later that day, standing beside a fountain, talking business with bruno. he glances at you once, nods slightly — like a prince acknowledging royalty — then returns to his briefing, you wait.

later, alone in the courtyard, you approach.

“the basket was you,” you say flatly.

he doesn’t deny it. “i’ve heard citrus helps with fatigue.”

“you’re not my personal doctor, giorno.”

“bruno entrusts your well-being to all of us.”

“and did bruno also entrust you with terrorizing the delivery man who flirts with me every tuesday?”

giorno looks at you. calmly. like he’s calculating.

“he won’t be back,” he says. “he disrespected you and by extension, our capo.”

“he asked for my number.”

“and he did so knowing who you belong to.” a pause. “i consider that suicidal.”

you fold your arms. “you can’t control everyone around me.”

he steps forward, gently — not imposing, but exact. his voice low. measured.

“i don’t control them for me. i do it for bruno. for this team. for balance. and…” his eyes meet yours, steady as glass, “because losing someone like you would shake more than our morale.” you don’t respond.

he takes your silence as permission.

“besides,” he says, voice dipping softer now, “i’d never take you from bruno. but i will destroy anything that tries to take you from him.”

then he walks away, not looking back and you stand there, holding a lemon from the basket in your hand, realizing you’re protected not by one monster — but many.

♡ guido mista

— the moment bruno told him “she’s under my protection,” mista took that personally. if the capo cared, then she was family. and family? you protect with your life.

— his loyalty to you is loud. affectionate. insanely overbearing. calls you “sis,” “queen,” and sometimes “madonna” in the way you’d address an actual deity.

— he’s convinced no one else is qualified to keep you safe. not even bruno. “our capo’s amazing, yeah, but he can’t be everywhere at once. that’s where i come in.”

— texts you hourly. not even to talk. just to check if you’re alive. if you don’t respond within 10 minutes, he assumes you’ve been kidnapped and begins forming a search party.

— keeps a separate holster loaded with bullets “in case something touches her aura wrong.”

— once tackled a guy for brushing your shoulder in a bakery line. later claimed it was a preemptive strike against “unspoken disrespect.”

— the sex pistols adore you and bicker over who gets to ride in your pocket. they’ve chewed through someone’s shoelaces for making you frown once.

— you once gave mista a casual thumbs-up and he told everyone it was “the best day of his life.”

— bruno had to pull him aside once and say, “tone it down.” he nodded. toned nothing down.

— 9/10 — a loud, clingy golden retriever with a glock. devoted to bruno’s girl like it’s holy law.

you’re trying to make it to your favorite café in peace. it’s a short walk. harmless. but today, as you reach the crosswalk, a hand grabs your elbow.

“yo, slow down! you almost walked into a suspicious breeze.”

you turn. “mista, are you stalking me?”

“‘stalking’ is a harsh word.” he pats your shoulder. “i prefer ‘shadowing.’ sounds cooler.”

“i told you i just needed some fresh air—”

“and i told bruno i’d make sure you got that air without being poisoned, stabbed, or flirted with by men who don’t deserve you.”

you sigh. “you do know i’m with bruno, right?”

he throws his hands up. “exactly! which means you deserve security on par with a vatican treasure. if anyone disrespects you, they’re also disrespecting our capo and that makes it my business.”

“…mista.”

he leans in, lowering his sunglasses. “have you seen how our capo looks at you? the man’s got blood on his hands and sugar in his eyes. i’m not about to let that get messed up by some random loser with cologne and audacity.”

you blink. “that’s… oddly poetic.”

he grins. “sex pistols helped me workshop it.”

you look down. they’re all peeking out of his jacket, waving at you. number five blows you a kiss. number two salutes.

you pinch the bridge of your nose. “you’re all insane.”

“yeah,” mista says, already putting an arm around you, “but we’re your kind of insane.”

and that’s how you end up escorted to the café by a man with six sentient bullets and enough confidence to slap fate in the face — all because bruno said, “look after her.”

and mista? he never does anything halfway.

♡ pannacotta fugo

— bruno’s authority means everything to fugo — and if his capo trusts someone enough to let them into his personal life, that person must be protected. relentlessly.

— he treats you like a diplomatic miracle. he doesn’t flirt, doesn’t touch — he just hovers nearby, watching, calculating. protective paranoia turned full-blown obsession.

— once snapped a pen in half when someone asked if you were single. like didn’t even look up from his book.

— keeps a detailed file on your daily routines. he insists it’s for “security reasons.” it includes your grocery preferences and known food intolerances.

— has absolutely memorized your blood type. “just in case something happens.”

— constantly internally fighting the urge to lash out at people who make you uncomfortable. when he does snap, it’s brutal, fast, and without warning.

— talks to himself about you. out loud. in public. has absolutely scared strangers doing this.

— once had a full-blown meltdown because you got a paper cut and didn’t tell him. he screamed at bruno. screamed at himself. screamed at the knife.

— he doesn’t worship you the way narancia or mista do, he reveres you like a paradox. something warm that makes his mind spin. something too precious to exist near violence, but too important to leave unguarded.

— 9.2/10 — quiet until he isn’t. respects you, fears for you, and would absolutely kill for you if bruno snapped his fingers.

you’re sitting at the hideout’s kitchen table when fugo walks in, holding a mug, staring at the ceiling like it insulted him.

“what’s wrong?” you ask.

“nothing,” he says tightly, setting the mug down with unnecessary force.

“fugo.”

he exhales through his nose like a bull. “someone told me you walked home alone last night.”

“…it was two blocks.”

“two blocks is all it takes for someone to follow you,” he snaps. “two blocks is the distance between safety and headlines.”

you blink. “i didn’t mean to—”

“you’re the capo’s woman,” he growls. “you think we can afford for something to happen to you? what would that do to bruno? to the team?” you stare at him, startled.

he realizes he’s raised his voice. again.

fugo turns away, dragging a hand through his hair. “sorry. i’m just… i can’t focus when i don’t know you’re safe. it messes with my head, everything goes sideways.”

you soften. “i didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“i know,” he mutters, looking down. “that’s what makes it worse.”

you reach for your tea. he grabs it first.

“…let me check the temperature,” he says, suddenly composed again. “it might burn your tongue.”

you narrow your eyes. “you think i’m that fragile?”

“i think you’re that important.” he hands the cup back.

as you sip, you watch him slowly sit across from you, arms crossed, foot tapping under the table — not because he’s angry. because he’s thinking of all the ways the world could hurt you and how many ways he knows how to hurt it back.

♡ leone abbacchio

— abbacchio didn’t like you at first. not because of you, because of what you meant and you made bruno soft, vulnerable, and distracted.

— then you smiled at him, not to manipulate, not to flirt. just… gently and something cracked in his chest like an old door giving way.

— now, he treats you like living proof that something pure can exist in their world. he hates that and protects it like it’s his job.

— has eyes on you at all times. maybe not physically, but definitely through moody recordings and synced patrol routes. he checks in without checking in.

— denies everything. “i didn’t buy her groceries.” “i didn’t follow her to the bookstore.” “i don’t care what she’s doing.” (he does all of it. constantly.)

— speaks about you in third-person like you’re already dead and he’s trying to justify his trauma. “she wouldn’t make it out there without us.”

— if someone so much as glances at you too long, he glares them into submission. you once asked why he was staring at a waiter. he said, “he breathed too close.”

— will sit in the same room as you in total silence for hours just to make sure no one messes with you. calls it “background protection.”

— absolutely refuses to say anything nice directly to you — but if someone insults you behind your back, he’s the first to knock teeth out.

— 8.9/10 — terrifyingly loyal. emotionally constipated. never says it, but you’re the only one who matters besides bruno.

you’re sitting on the hideout balcony, reading, when you hear the chair beside you scrape back. abbacchio sits without a word. no greeting. no eye contact. just… presence.

you blink. “hello to you too.”

he sips from a glass of red wine. says nothing.

“you okay?”

“fine.”

“…you sure?”

“you think i’d be sitting here if i wasn’t?”

you roll your eyes. “no, i think you’d be shadow-watching me from across the street with binoculars.”

he snorts. “not worth the effort. i already know your schedule.”

you pause. “…that’s creepy.”

“that’s safety.”

you look at him. really look. the frown lines, the bags under his eyes, the way his shoulders only relax when you’re in view.

“bruno doesn’t ask you to watch me this much,” you say softly.

“bruno doesn’t have to.”

silence stretches. he finishes his wine. you sip your tea. then he says, low and blunt, “you’re his and what’s his is mine to protect.”

you blink. “so i’m property?”

he glances at you. for once, his voice is almost… gentle. “you’re peace and nothing good lasts unless someone gets their hands bloody keeping it intact.”

you don’t respond, but he doesn’t need you to because when it’s time to leave, he walks one step behind you. not beside. not ahead. just close enough to catch you if something goes wrong because leone abbacchio doesn’t ask to be trusted, he just is.

[feelslikepants]

I was writing something completely different, but there was a picture of Illario with a beard and this came out instead. I have no excuses and I need none - he should have a beard all the time.

Pairing: Illario x Bellara, established relationship Rating: G

The door to his bathroom bangs open, handle slamming against the door hard enough that Illario is sure it's going to leave a dent on the wall. The bounce back nearly hits Bellara in the face, but she catches it and barges her way in.

"What are you doing?" Illario asks, annoyed.

Bellara attempts to grab the razor from his hand but she can't reach as he holds it above her, even with those cute little hops she tries. He assumed that when he heard her fling herself out of bed, it was because she woke up inspired and was rushing to pull something apart or fix something or leave more ink and paper notes strewn across his previously immaculately kept room. Not because she wanted to burst in on him when he was finally recovering from a contract and three long days of traveling.

"Trying to - just hang on, come on," Bellara says and wiggles her fingers as she stretches up, balancing on her toes.

"I have no idea what you want to accomplish here."

"To stop you from shaving."

"I can see that much," Illario says and swipes his free hand across several days of stubble. "But what I don't understand is why."

"Oh." Bellara plants her heels back on her floor and blinks up at him. "Because it's hot."

Despite his best efforts, she tells him that he's handsome often but without any special regard for what he's wearing or how he's styled himself. For the first growth of a beard to have inspired that reaction - he's not sure what to do with that.

He leans on his initial impulse to be offended, pitching his voice up haughtily as he declares, "I am always attractive, cara mia."

"Right, right," she agrees, and he feels a little outraged about her tone. "But this is extra hot. Can you keep it?"

Her face is open and eager and sincere, and Illario thinks this is how he ended up with his space and life invaded, no privacy to be found even in the bathroom apparently. Still, he hadn't known before how nice it is to have someone genuinely worried about his well-being, to being welcomed back with a kiss and warm body plastered to his back to help him sleep, and he thinks (privately) that some frustration is worth it.

"You want me to have a beard," he says flatly.

"I mean, if you don't mind?" Bellara suggests. She bounces a little in excitement, fingers curling in his nightshirt, then blurts out, "I found this new serial. The main love interest is this guy that seems like he has a dark past. We don't know what it is yet, but I have a couple of ideas I can tell you about later. Anyway, he's definitely the bad boy type, a little mean but in a flirty way - he kind of reminds me of you? Oh but the best part about this one is that they drew illustrations for it. I don't know why more stories don't have that! So there's a drawing of him, and he has a beard - it looks so good!"

"You want me to have a beard," he repeats slowly, "because a fictional character you like has a beard."

"Well, not when you say it like that." Bellara fidgets under his gaze and frowns, but she can't stop herself from trying again hopefully, "But also, you know, you look really hot like this."

Illario mutters out a curse, then sighs, "My cousin is the one with a beard, not me."

He doesn't realize how vulnerable that sounds until her expressions eases into understanding, and he has to clench his jaw to stop himself from clawing the words back. Instead of leaving him to shave after that though, Bellara takes the razor from his relaxed grip, gaze turning speculative.

"Lucanis doesn't have to have a beard though."

"And what does that mean? Just what are you planning in that devious little brain of yours, hm?"

"Nothing!" Bellara protests. "I just bet we could convince him to get rid of it if that helps. Or, you know, you can both have beards, and you can be the hotter Dellamorte with one."

"…Fine. We'll see how it goes. For now," he warns, but he doesn't think Bellara hears him over the sound of her cheering.

"Thanks!"

She drops the razor in the sink and tosses one arm around him eagerly as she pushes herself up on her toes to kiss him, the other hand stroking through the short hairs on his jaw with a happy noise that sits warm in his chest. He hasn't had a beard except for a month in his twenties he'd rather forget, but something neat and trim, he thinks, he can work with that, make that fashionable. And if his new facial hair encourages Bellara to throw herself at him half-naked in the mornings and squirm enticingly - well, that's just the price of being unbearably attractive, Illario supposes.

[whereispearlescentmoon]

A ficlet based on the idea that the snails just hang around after the end of the session and also reflect their respective players true feelings. (yes I saw the one someone made earlier about Pearl’s snail with Gem but I had this written already and I’m not gonna not post it just because someone else posted the idea first.)

Pearl was, frankly, sick and tired of the snails. She kept checking the seams of their new base to ensure that nothing can get in. Her fingernails had bits of debris caught underneath them from each time she ran them over the corners, over the grout holding the cobblestone walls together, over everything. Grian said the snails won’t want to kill them anymore, but Pearl wasn’t taking any chances. Cleo and Scott seemed content to have theirs hanging around, and even Impulse wasn’t as wary, but while she thought they were cute at first, it’s a little less cute when they’ve killed you twice.

“Aw look at it! It loves Scott!” Cleo cooed happily. Pearl was actually trying very hard NOT to look at Cleo’s especially. Like Cleo, it was stitched together of green undead flesh. But unlike Cleo, Pearl had no affection for it and thus her disgust overpowered anything else. When she did take a glance at her teammates, Scott was happily patting ZombieSnail’s shell as it snuggled into him. Snailjor was similarly content to curl up against Cleo, who was petting it almost like a cat.

Impulse was reacting a bit more normally in Pearl’s opinion. ISnail was following him around as he changed into a more comfortable set of clothes to sleep in (cargo shorts are very practical, but not very soft), occasionally nudging at Impulse’s ankle. It made Pearl ache to be back on Hermitcraft, with Olive getting in her way as she tidied up. They had to stay the normal length of the session though, even if they had cut the killing short. It would be a few more days before anyone could go anywhere.

Then there was Pearl’s own snail. It was, frankly, nowhere to be seen. It seemed to want as little to do with her as she did with it. Oh well. Another soul bound (that is what Grian had called them, right? It seemed like he was making things up to torment Pearl specifically at this point) rejecting her. Whatever.

Maybe she had spoken too soon, she thought, as a light rustling came from outside the walls. It was followed by the sound of those stupid propellers the things had been using to fly around all session.

“I’m not in the mood, dude,” Pearl called out, as she, like Impulse, searched their chests for the sleep shorts she had brought. As her back was turned, she could hear the snail still approaching, and sighed as its cold and slimy body nudged against her leg. “Seriously, can you just-“

Her words caught in her throat as she looked down at the snail. Instead of the brown shell, navy blue jacket, and oddly long hair that she had been running from all session, there was a light orange shell and little set of overalls. Gem’s then. Pearl crouched beside it, eying it suspiciously. She still really didn’t get why Gem was so angry at her, but it couldn’t be a good sign that her murder snail was here.

“What’s up little Gem?” Pearl asked, putting her hand out. The snail, predictably, bit her, drawing blood with its oddly sharp teeth. Pearl drew back with a yelp, curling the hand into her jacket. “Dang it! Jeez Louise Gem, if you wanted to kill me outside of session time, wait till we’re back home at least,”

And home had been odd, frankly. It seemed like Gem might have been avoiding her on Hermitcraft. The Life Series wasn’t normally like that. It got kind of fuzzy when you weren’t in the server proper. Only a couple of weeks after Pearl had slaughtered them both in Double Life, she had been planning with Impulse and laughing with Cleo. She had done some clean up for Scar the same week she had put up a wall between her and the Clockers. Hell, even right after Secret Life her and Gem had hung out like nothing was the matter, chatting about the series casually. Something about being back here had dug up feelings Gem had clearly chosen not to address with her, and could Pearl really be blamed for that? No, she decided, and she wouldn’t take Gem’s snail letting out those feelings like this either.

“Whoa, what happened?” Scott had come rushing over at Pearl’s yelp. She sighed, gesturing with her now bleeding finger. Scott hissed through his teeth, “Woof, that’s nasty. What did you do to tick off Gem’s snail?”

Pearl growled, frustrating welling up. “The same thing I’ve done to Gem! Nothing! It came up to me to bite me! I literally didn’t do anything!”

Scott put his hands up, looking for all the world like he didn’t believe her.

“Alright, alright, let me look at that finger then, don’t want it to get infected. You’ve already lost more lives than you can afford.” His tone was joking, but Pearl couldn’t help but be a little hurt. She wasn’t trying to lose lives! Really! She didn’t want to win, but she didn’t want to go out first. It was just hard with the wild cards to find her normal footing.

Usually in these games her biggest strength was the ability to hide and outlast her opponents, but the twists had made that impossible. She was a good fighter, could hold her own when inevitably there was only a handful of people left and she had to fight, but she usually avoided getting involved until then. Now, she might be dead before those final bloodbath days, when the whole server was red and all was going to hell, even happened.

While Scott took the time to properly clean out the cut, the snail nudged at Pearl’s ankle again. She shook it off with a frustrated huff.

“See what I mean? It’s trying to come up to me! What am I supposed to do about that?” Scott finished wrapping her finger and looked down at the snail, which seemed frankly uninterested in him, beady green eyes fixated on Pearl alone.

“Maybe it’s like an abused cat,” he proposed, “It wants to show you affection but when you do it back, it starts hissing and biting. You’ve just got to let it come to you and pretend you don’t even notice it,”

“Or, we could leave it outside the base and hope it goes back to Gem?” She suggested, hopefully. Scott gave her an exasperated look.

“Didn’t it fly over the wall to get her in the first place?” Pearl pouted and huffed, crossing her arms.

She titled her head to get a good look at the snail. Her right eye had gone red tinted and it made it harder to see out of, forcing her to crane her neck at odd angles to see with the left. The Gem snail had come crawling back and was circling the log Pearl had sat down on. Every subsequent circle, it got closer and closer, until it was brushing Pearl’s leg. Finally, as Pearl sat still so as to not provoke another attack, it settled on the log beside her, leaning its weight against her thigh. Pearl ignored it pointedly, holding back a shudder at the weird feeling of its slug-like body.

It wasn’t until the next morning that the Gem snail finally left. Pearl had barely been able to sleep, halfway between comforted and afraid of the thing snoozing beside her. She didn’t want to provoke it. She hadn’t wanted to provoke Gem. Maybe she was doing all of this wrong. Or maybe Gem was. Either way, she just wanted to go home and have things be normal again.

Somewhere, in the forest, Pearlescentsnail found a tree and climbed up it to sleep. She looked around, making sure there was no one else there, sank into her shell, and stayed there until the session ended. She went out alone.

[letsgetrowdy43]

Lucy loves reading at night and when Connor spends the night he asks her to read to him.

Au Masterlist!!

I think the first night he ever stays in her apartment is such a big deal to the both of them because it's the first relationship-like intimate thing they ever did.

She had just returned to her apartment, after a long night in the university library, with tired eyes as she dropped her book bag on her kitchen counter trying to be careful not to wake her sleeping roommates.

She finally opened her phone to see the final score of the Blackhawks game as she entered her bedroom, changing into a fresh pair of pyjamas she found his contact and sent him a short and sweet text about the loss. He responded right away which threw her off because it's eleven at night and he's still awake even after a game, so she tried to politely pry into why he's still awake.

“Just can't sleep :/ bad last few days” he responded as she stared at the message for a few seconds, trying to figure out what path to take and then quickly sent a text back. Hitting send on her impulsive text as fast as possible so she doesn't chicken out, “You can come up to my apartment if it'll help you sleep :)” Her eyes widen at her boldness as his response bubbles popped up in the corner of the screen. “Be there in a few.”

She waited for him at her front door, a grin on her face as she let him in, a soft smile on his face as he took in the look of her in pyjamas. A soft smile on her lips as she stood on her tiptoes to peck him on the lips as his hand found her hip.

The air felt a bit tense as they treaded in the unknown waters of their growing relationship, a comfortable awkwardness sitting in between them as he grinned tiredly at her. Their fingers intertwined as she led him to her dimly lit bedroom, motioning towards the side of the bed for him as she crawled into her own.

“Can I uh- sleep without my shirt?” his face grew warm as her sweet smile was replaced with a smirk. She pretended to ponder as she got comfortable under the covers, “I prefer you shirtless,” she said cheekily as he rolled his eyes and rid himself of his shirt before crawling in next to her.

She immediately clung to him as she rolled over and right into his arms, a content smile worked its way onto her face as her fingers drew little shapes on his chest, "you okay?" "Just stressed, I'll get over it," he whispered as her brows furrowed in concern. "I wish I could fix all your problems for you," she said as her hand impulsively moved up to sweep his curls in the right direction her hand remained on his bare chest as she looked up into his eyes.

He smiled softly, a little taken aback by the vulnerability of their conversation, "There's a lot more than I let on," he whispered with an exhausted sigh as she shook her head. "I wish you'd talk to someone about all of it, I think it would help a lot." He smirked as she pressed a kiss to his shoulder, "but then I wouldn't have an excuse to come crawl in your bed," he whispered as she smiled up at him and pressed another kiss to his lips. "You don't need excuses, I always want you around." "Well now you're never getting rid of me," she smiled and shrugged as she rolled onto her back.

they sat in silence for a second as she looked at her bedside table to see the book she needed to finish for her journalism class sat on the edge. "Can I read a chapter of my book quickly, I need to get it done for a class," she rolled on her side to see him nodding with his eyes closed. "read it to me," he whispered as she sat up and he rolled over to hug her lower body closer to him.

She opened her novel and started to slowly read the first few pages, before she heard a soft snore leaving his lips, her heart swelling at how peaceful he looked before she sat up a bit to mark her page turned her light and finally got comfortable in his arms.

-

-

-

[kittycatred]

watching your process with making the ghost live is honestly kinda amazing-

AWWHWH THANK YOU SO MUCH ???? (sorry im using this as an excuse to ramble now about my story stuff for this blog :3)

ive been half worried that its too obvious im making it up as i go or that i dont have anything planned for it, and i actually nearly held off on this arc for a bit longer

cause around the beginning of this blog, right around when i started the minecraft saga is when i had the idea of "ooh red's been possessed twice in canon, i should make them possessed again on the blog !!"

and fun fact: after the cave saga, i half debated on keeping red in minecraft longer, and finding a portal that then took them back to monster school, and i half debated on would herobrine possess them again ?? but i was super unsure so i had red go home, and because that saga i just wanted it to end at that point lmaoo

and ive had the idea, until yesterday with the rain in red's room i was trying to think of a way to make it go away without just "oh it randomly went away" just cause i like to be silly with stuff if i can think of it !! then i thought "ooh this would be a perfect setup for the possession stuff !!!"

and i was trying to figure out what could possess red, i considered herobrine but like i said ooc in tags a bit ago he's semi canonically redeemed, or atleast not an active threat from helping with fighting king and being a teacher at monster school and i had no idea how to spin that around (and...i dont know how id roleplay herobrine too LMAO)

i considered minecraft mobs, not any specific ones, but because of the cave arc red wouldnt be going in minecraft alone for awhile and it wouldnt make sense for a random mob to show up so that wasnt done

so then i thought....hmmm what if i make a ghost character ??? no plans, just a ghost stick figure, that possesses red, except in contrast to how red types and red's personality, ill make them kinda like a polar opposite to red ??

that was my ONLYYYY BASIS

and like red i can be impulsive so i went with it

annnd....wanna know another secret ?? :3

these posts ( 1 2 3 4 ) WERE ALL IMPROVED. ENITRELY.

all i knew was "okay red's gonna meet the ghost, and gain enough trust with it to sleep and then the ghost will possess him"

literally after i drew one thing, i had no plan i just kept trying to base off "hmm what can i do heree ??" and same with the dialogue (that im too scared to reread because i made all that at midnight and i glanced and saw one grammar mistake but i dont wanna remake those posts or edit themmm sooo </3)

but it wasnt until the 3rd post where i had the idea of ghostie pointing out red's insecurities as to why theyd make the deal in the first place, because in the post of red talking about being a cat in response to cho's ask, they were a little vulnerable at the end and were all "i hated it because i was coddled !! not cause i hate the attention but i want to be capable of myself !!" sorta thing until they switched topics instantly thats another idea i wanted, of diving deep into red's insecurities but i didnt wanna repeat of "reds all nighter crashout" as to seeing red's thoughts so i decided to mash those concepts together :3

another scrapped idea i had, was building off of red's whole "floaty hands and anon things ?? im either crazy or these are ghosts !!" and i nearly had "ghostie" talk to red at first in the form of asks, since you can send asks to yourself, but i felt like that would get confusing that its a character im playing and not an actual anon

and building off of that idea aside from the anon asks part, i almost had ghostie try to "befriend" red at first, and then red would open up to them throughout the night and then theyd offer the "i can help with that!!" then possess them the next morning

buuut im really glad that my direction with making ghostie a character is going well !!! because it is entirely improved from the second i start typing LMAO

which, i do improv alot for red !! given it is a roleplay blog alongside askblog, but i am just super glad im not fumbling too bad with improving and ENTIREEE CHARACTER as i go :'D

this is. a very huge ramble my bad.

but as you can tell i think ALOT about this blog, and even though it is quite literally in character for red anyways, once i finish one story/arc thing i always try to come up with the next thing, even if it means improving as i go like if i didnt go with this arc, the other plan i had was involving the monster school students, i 100% want to have red interact with them sometime still, i just 1) dunno how to draw them easy enough to redraw alot and 2) i dunno how to roleplay as them YET. but im so glad i finally got to do the possession arc AND also have red face their insecurities, because the thing about red, or how i write them here, is they will be avoidant as EVER in expressing sappy deep emotions, but in the way of "everythingggg is fineee wooo!!!" sorta thing or brushing them off, thats why for me to deep dive into red's thoughts i had to have them pull an all nighter last time /silly

quite honestly 80% of this blog is me looking at past little things here and stringing them together like one of those conspiracy bulletin boards, but its so fun to just improv build off of prior things, which i was SUUPER hesitant on at the start of this blog but now its just super fun for me !!! literally ill go around thinking of how to incorporate as much as i can to tie everything together on this blog, the only thing i havent been able to do that with is the ruben's lead bodysuit saga a LOOONG while back but ill probably come up with something or how to end that, since rocketcorp isnt so much of a threat anymore ?? for now atleast. but ill figure that out sometime

OKAY ILL ACTUALLY END THE RAMBLE HERE THOUGH sorry i just. think alot. BUT IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE HOW IM IMPROVING GHOST !! :3

[thefandomenchantress]

Gahhhh I'm such a Stacy x Liam shipper I love them so much. I know they never interacted, I know Stacy is barely even a character in season one, I know there's basically zero content for them, but I love them so much, I swear Stiam is probably in my top three Liam ships at this point.

Like. Their characters are both primarily centered around some sort of romance-related gimmick, and one of Liam's main complaints to Jake was that he wouldn't just ask out his crush. And what does Stacy do that nearly every other character fails to? Work up the nerve to confess her feelings to her crush. Which makes me think that in terms of romance, Stacy would be one of very few people Liam would respect.

And their dynamic is just so silly to me. Stacy would be energetic or upbeat in a way Liam would find very amusing, but she would also encourage a sort of genuineness from Liam that he doesn't usually have.

They'd both be dumbasses in slightly different ways, where Liam is more grounded in reality and as such has a little more common sense, and Stacy has more emotional intelligence/awareness, but both are equally head-empty when it comes to more abstract concepts and school things (they could help each other study oooooh). Stacy would be a little impulsive, and Liam would go along with her silly schemes, only for them to realize too late that maybe whatever they're doing isn't the best idea. And they both can be smart, but only with the proper motivation.

I feel like they'd be just similar enough to get along, but also just different enough for them to complement each other and help the other grow. Liam by being a little more logical and bringing Stacy down to earth when needed, and Stacy by encouraging Liam to express his emotions and interests more. Stacy is definitely more of a romantic and would want to plan out a bunch of stuff for them to do, and Liam would indulge her while also making sure she rests or doesn't get too upset when things don't go exactly the way she imagined them to.

Plus, a few fun headcanons I think are silly:

-Stacy seems like she'd be the type to really like romance novels, and I think it would be extremely funny if she got Liam hooked on them, too (He would read over her shoulder for hours while insisting that he is not invested).

-Stacy being naturally warm and Liam always being cold (He has tried to give her his jacket multiple times and Stacy always turns him down, because he starts shivering as soon as he takes it off).

-I feel like Stacy would probably be the one to catch feelings and confess first, and Liam wouldn't be too sure if he felt the same, only for him to fall very hard after they go on some dates (and be embarrassed about that, because he was convinced that this stupid puppy love thing he always made fun of Jake for would never happen to him, and that whenever he liked someone, he would be very calm and collected about it, which he is not). (I'm in the process of trying to write a fic for this scenario mwahaha).

-If they got together, I think they would both be okay with the other being kind of clingy, because they themself are also clingy. This applies both figuratively and literally, since I feel like both are shown to like physical affection.

-That being said, Stacy would like PDA, and Liam would find it slightly embarrassing, but not embarrassing enough to stop him from going along with it just to annoy the hell out of Henry and Drew.

-Liam usually teases Stacy for...Well, basically anything, because he thinks her reactions are funny, but Stacy can very easily turn it around on him if she wants to, and she finds his reactions just as funny, if not funnier, since he's usually so smug.

-Stacy wakes up a little earlier than most people, whereas Liam would sleep all day if you let him. Suffice to say, Stacy does not let him.

-Stacy is basically the only person who can touch Liam's hair without getting in trouble. Henry sees this and is appalled at Liam's favoritism. Liam tells him that he would also be allowed if he actually washed his hands.

-I think the concept of Stacy finding Liam's dirty jokes funny is extremely amusing, because all the other characters would think Stacy is innocent and naive and probably wouldn't even know what he's talking about half the time, only to be swiftly proven false and question everything they know about her after she starts giggling about a "that's what she said" joke. Or even worse...A "your mom" joke. It was at that moment they realized those two are perfect for each other.

...I think that's it, I just wanted to ramble about this ship for a little bit because I love them so much you guys don't understand ahhhhh. Like at this point I like them more than most other Liam ships, possibly even more than Henriam.

[sunnynwanda]

Trouble of Mind: Part 1

Part 2

It's been a week. A week since Hero did something unacceptable. It wasn't exactly forbidden, more like a rule they imposed on themselves for ethical reasons. No matter how much they needed information reading Villain's mind was always out of the question.

They did it a week ago. Amidst the battle, for no particular reason. A thought had flickered behind Villain's gaze only to disappear in the dark pools. And Hero followed. Unconscious at first, an impulse that drew them in. That was the biggest mistake they had ever made. And it backfired.

Villain had no idea why they jerked away so quickly and accepted defeat just so they could escape. The contents of Villain's psyche traumatised them. The things that Hero saw inside their consciousness were disturbing, but what they found deep in Villain's unconscious mind sent reverberating waves through their body. Hero hasn't been able to sleep ever since - countless nightmares served as their only companions for seven long and lonely nights.

Hero sighs, brushing their hair back from their forehead. The sleepless nights were taking their toll on them. Dark bags had settled under their eyes, heavy with the knowledge of the secrets held in Villain's mind.

They hadn't attended to any of the challenges presented by their enemy in the week that ensued. It was not because of the lack of proper rest but rather rooted in their inability to face them after discovering things meant to be hidden. They hadn't left their house at all for the risk of running into someone they knew. Hence why the knock on their door didn't surprise them. They remained quiet for a long moment, waiting for the person to leave, and when the knocking seized, exhaled in relief and returned to their couch for another attempt of rest to turn into torment.

Except it did not. Hero lets out a content sighs, turning so that they are now lying on their back. They yawn, stretching to snap their muscles in place. It feels like a heavy burden has been lifted off of their shoulders. It's only when they try to open their eyes, that they realise something is off.

"What the f..." A hand on their chest prevents them from sitting up, then presses them back down. What the hell?

"Shh, it's just a compress," a familiar voice fills their ears, only increasing the panic. "Don't freak out."

"Villain?" Their throat goes dry. They reach for the cloth that's covering their eyes and forehead. Villain is seated by their bed with a glass of water ready.

"Drink this," Hero shakes their head, propping themselves up against the headboard. With a sigh, Villain takes a sip. "See? It's not poisoned. Just drink it, it'll help."

"What are you doing here?" And what am I doing here? They could bet they were on the couch a few minutes ago. How did Villain get into their apartment and move them without them waking up?

"Helping you deal with the consequences of your own actions," despite the sarcastic tone - Villain seems genuine in their concern. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Pardon?" They jolt, almost jumping in place. No one knew Hero had that ability. Villain couldn't possibly know. Right?

"You shouldn't have read my mind, babe." Hero's eyes widen in shock. Villain shrugs nonchalantly, taking the cloth from their hand. "My past is too much to handle even for myself."

"How did you..?" A million questions are circling in Hero's head, yet they cannot form a single full sentence.

"Gosh, for a mind reader, you are quite dense," Villain shakes their head, then presses a palm against Hero's burning forehead. Their fingers are gentle and cold, Hero almost leans into their touch. "Did you think I wouldn't feel you in my head?"

"I-I'm sorry," their heartbeat is accelerating, which doesn't help the fever, so they take a deep breath, attempting to steady themselves. "I really am. I didn't mean for it to happen."

"I know." Villain dips the compress into a bowl of ice water, then brushes Hero's hair back, wiping their forehead and temples. Hero lets out a content sigh, allowing their eyes to fall shut. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"What for?" They can feel the cloth against the bridge of their nose, then right behind their right ear.

"Help, obviously," Villain tilts their head for better access. "When was the last time you slept?"

"You know the answer to that," is all they can muster, their body relaxed under gentle touches. Villain nods, ignoring the fact that Hero's eyes are closed.

"Put a cold compress on your forehead and ice cubes on your pulse points - that helps." They stop their manipulations, and Hero has to stop themselves from huffing in complaint. Instead, they open their eyes to look at Villain. "I use essential oils and sleep in complete darkness when it gets bad."

"Do you have them often?" Hero's voice is barely above a whisper, but Villain hears.

They nod with a heavy sigh and focus their gaze on Hero's ear, which is crimson red. They wonder if it's a reaction to the cold or their touch. "That's what failed brainwashing does to you, babe."

Hero freezes for a second. When they finally speak, their voice is coarse. "I'm sorry."

Villain offers them a quiet smile before getting up. "Come find me if you still can't rest," they say over their shoulder and vanish before Hero has a chance to thank them.

Hero knows they've made a mistake. A mistake that makes it hard to breathe and almost impossible to sleep. One that led them into the dreams and nightmares of their nemesis. One that gave them a chance to repair the damage they've unearthed and - potentially - heal Villain's troubled mind.

They know they've made a mistake, so when the sun begins to set on the horizon, they knock on Villain's door.

Part 2

Masterlist

[volkodava]

Hello my Tumblr friends! Some of you liked the idea of Postapocalypse!AU, as well as the Junpei design I drew earlier. So I pulled myself together and drew portraits for the entire main cast of characters. I must say that they here are closer to the age of P4AU. It was challenging but fun to come up with designs and backstories for them that overlapped with the originals. Although I still haven't thought through some details… But I hope you will enjoy!

FeMC/Minako/Kotone

Yes, this AU uses a female protagonist. She emerged from the Wasteland and all she knows is that she had some important mission. She is cheerful and always believes in the best. There are "XXII"-shaped scars on both sides of her head, similar to a brand. She seems to know what this is supposed to mean, but she won't tell anyone.

Status: Unknown

Yukari

The best long-range power of SEES. She lost her father due to the fault of Mitsuru's father. She was looking for Mitsuru to take revenge, but instead she found her best friend. She can often be bitchy and sometimes too straightforward, but no one heals other people’s wounds better than her. She received a scar on her face from an unsuccessfully broken bow string.

Status: Alive

Junpei

He makes bad jokes and swears a lot to hide his insecurities. Creates chaos almost everywhere it appears. He seems rude and ill-mannered, although he is a hopeless romantic at heart. But if you really make him angry, he destroys everything in his path (ask Takaya and Jin, oh no, sorry, no one will ask them anymore). Ultimately, his concern for Chidori allows him to shed his clown mask and show a different side of himself.

Status: Alive

Fuuka

A mechanic girl found by SEES in a sand labyrinth. She suffers from strabismus, but this did not stop her from completely restoring Aigis and collecting several more useful items for SEES. Has a phenomenal memory. Probably the only one who never started a conflict first.

Status: Alive

Aigis/A.I.G.I.S.

Initially, it was a cleaning robot, on which someone put a yellow wig and a ribbon. It rusted in a landfill for a long time until FeMС found it. Gradually he begins to become interested in the world around him and acquires a desire to find out what a person is and how to be one.

Status: Functioning

Mitsuru

Official leader of SEES. Several years ago, during a shelter fire, she lost her father and was injured herself. She hides the burned part of her face under her hair. She is cold and difficult to compromise, but always acts as a negotiator between gangs of raiders, trying to extract the maximum benefit. Has many useful connections in Port Island.

Status: Alive

Akihiko

Fan of fights without rules. More reasonable and less impulsive than Junpei, but if the two of them are together, then somewhere nearby there is trouble that they got into. Lost his little sister in a shelter fire and still tries to drown out those memories with alcohol. He often misses Shinjiro. Perhaps he was Mitsuru's partner a couple of times, but in the Wasteland no one cares who sleeps with whom.

Status: Alive

Shinjiro

A wandering raider that periodically joins SEES and then leaves. Akihiko's former friend. Little emotional. Lost an eye in one of the raider skirmishes. He tends to evaluate people by their usefulness to society, but in the end he admits that he was wrong too often. For some time he was dependent on Strega's help, but later this developed into enmity. Alas, this did not end well.

Status: Dead

Ken

Practically the “son of the regiment”, he was found at one of the temporary sites along with the body of his deceased mother and taken into the care of SEES. Refused to move to Port Island, choosing to stay in the shelter. Having already seen a lot of things he shouldn't have seen, he wants to become stronger to change the world. Gets close to Shinjiro, reading him as a fatherly/brotherly figure. Nevertheless, he gets very angry when he is overprotected.

Status: Alive

Koromaru

Good boy. One day he just showed up at the shelter and everyone just accepted it. He warned everyone about the attacks several times, after which he received a collar and his own bowl. A good fighter, he always follows those who go on forays into the Wasteland. Perhaps the only one who simply enjoys life.

Status: Alive

[icarustypicalfall]

Commander's last love

part 6

masterpost • ao3 • fic masterlist • like pls :')

note: sorry i got carried away

tags: @unicorngirly1

“Been loving you and I can't get enough”

Mission [A2626]

Location: [CLASSIFIED]

Time: 20:11:04 - 27/10/2022

Commander Phillip Graves sat outside, gazing up at the dark sky, a sense of chaos filling his mind. The weight of his responsibilities weighed heavily on him, like bullets of steel piercing his insides and wreaking havoc on his entire being. He blamed his current state of confusion to some family issues that had been troubling him, causing him to retreat from the room and avoid facing the elephant in the room. He chose to escape, once again.

In truth, weariness clung to his soul like a persistent parasite, making each limb feel burdensome and each step a sonnet of fatigue. It seemed as if even the stars conspired to dim their light upon his happiness. General Shepard died, Soap too. Bombing the base is no longer an option. And amidst this conflicting mix of emotions, he found it difficult to determine whether to celebrate or mourn.

Phillip was utterly exhausted. Even with a full night's sleep and proper meals, he still felt drained of energy. Numerous concerns and worries plagued his mind, making him long to crawl away and hide somewhere beyond anyone's reach. He was accustomed to stress and heightened adrenaline levels, but this time felt different. He felt weak, fragile, and it pained him to admit that he was breaking.

But then, he realized that you wouldn't have embraced him if he hadn't been so distressed. You embraced him, faults and defaults, embracing his mistakes and his past. The question lingered: would you embrace his future as well? The overwhelming sensation of love filled Phillip's heart, a feeling that differed from anything he had ever experienced before. Hugging you was a revelation, as sweet as a spoonful of honey dripping down his throat.

He absentmindedly touched his ribs, as if seeking the lingering warmth left by your hands when you drew him close that night. It was hard for him to believe that it had actually happened, and he held onto you tightly, fearing that you would slip away like everything else in his life.

But you didn't.

Your arms wrapped around him, taming his demons and making him feel sane, if only for a fleeting jiffy. In that moment, he could catch a whiff of your perfume and feel the softness of your back against his palms. He closed his eyes, as if trying to capture that sense of eternity within your embrace.

He wished it could last forever, but as soon as you let go, his impulsive nature kicked in once again. He rushed out of the room, disappearing into the dark hallways, leaving you sitting on the floor, wondering what on earth had just happened to him.

Tonight, the air was chilly, with a moonless sky and a hint of a cold breeze. It mirrored the coldness in his heart when he had first arrived at this place. Yet, in the presence of your existence, the walls he had built around himself crumbled. Phillip sat outside, his mind consumed by thoughts of you. He never thought he would admit it, but deep down, he knew that his attraction towards you went beyond mere liking. Perhaps, just perhaps, it was love. However, his prideful ego refrained from affirming it, and instead, he chose to fixate his gaze on the serene beauty of nature.

It was almost ironic how the peaceful scene before him contradicted the turmoil within him. Oh, how he longed to make sense of the motion picture he had been trapped in for nearly four decades.

The wind toyed with his hair, finding its way under the cotton shirt he wore. He shivered, feeling goosebumps rise on his skin as he pondered whether this reflective session would leave him sick and unwell.

Then, he heard soft footsteps approaching him. Light, like the steps he imagined you taking. Over time, Phillip had learned to judge people not by their words or appearances, but by the way they carried themselves, the way their hands moved. Those two aspects were revealing, capable of betraying even the best of actors.

He felt a weight settle upon his shoulders, and a delightful scent of cinnamon and vanilla reached his nostrils. He wondered how it was possible for someone who had spent days in the field to come back smelling of sunshine and rainbows.

He turned his head to the side, and there you stood, your unmasked face taking his breath away. It was almost as breathtaking as a mother's smile. For a brief moment, he feared you could hear the frantic beating of his heart in his chest. He admired the soft features of your face, surpassing the beauty captured in a renaissance sculpture. His gaze fell upon a scar on your cheek, a wide and unmistakable mark stretching from your eyelid to your ear.

You handed him a blanket and removed your mask, revealing the full beauty of your face. If this were a fragment of his imagination, he would have wished for this dream to stretch out for an eternity or two.

You coughed, raising an eyebrow, and took a seat beside him. "What's the matter?" you asked, curious about his sudden change in demeanor.

He smiled, his eyes softening in awe. Phillip was a tough man, but he had a deep appreciation for beauty. It consumed him and captivated his mind. He looked down, as if the weight of his sins prevented him from fully admiring such a godly sent gift.

After a moment, Phillip spoke, a gentle smile adorning his face as he stared at his muddy boots. "Nothing, sweetheart... You're..."

A slight sigh escaped your lips as you whispered, looking away. "Yeah, I know." The past still stung, and despite the passing years, you were still hurting. "You..."

He interrupted you, locking eyes with you. His tone was commanding, affirming, just like when he gave orders. His words were enough to silence any doubt. "Beautiful... You're beautiful... I better not hear you say or think otherwise again." Phillip let out an awkward laugh as he realized what had slipped from his mouth. He continued, rubbing his neck in both embarrassment and amusement. "You must have blinded someone on the field."

A blush crept onto your cheeks and ears. You smiled awkwardly, realizing that his affirmation and compliment were genuine. You nodded, gazing into his captivating blue eyes that were already lost in your own.

He murmured, squinting his eyes. You were a mystery to him, a box he had never dared to open. He could only wonder what lay hidden behind those walls you had built. "That is one tough scar, sweetheart. You must have had a serious altercation with someone, didn't you?"

You laughed and nodded. "Sort of."

Phillip insisted, his hand reaching out to touch yours. His palm was calloused from years of working in the fields, yet it felt comforting as it gently enveloped your own in a reassuring embrace. "Care to tell me how you got it?"

You sighed, knowing that you would have to reveal the truth sooner or later. Keeping secrets would only leave stains. You smiled and nodded. "Tell me how you got yours first.”

He smiled, gazing into your eyes with pure admiration. He muttered softly, "It was a bullet... I didn't see them and... well... I nearly lost my ear. But you see, sweetheart, they only took a tiny bit of it."

His chuckles resurfaced as you delicately traced your fingers over his healed cheek, feeling the softness of the scar. With a sense of both observation and clarity, you took his trembling hand and gently held it against your face, cradling your chin.

Phillip swallowed hard, holding his breath as if his hands were grasping the essence of life itself. He didn't want to lose it again.

You whispered softly as his thumb trailed over your own scar, "That was a long time ago, back when I was a rookie. It was from a knife... Things got really messy.”

He hummed, absorbing your words and allowing them to sink in. His eyes never wavered from yours.

"We all want to forget that night, and whenever someone sees my face, all they see is the memory. That's why I never take off the mask. We've all had enough of the past."

He frowned, gripping your hand tightly and squeezing it, wishing he could bring you back to reality. "That's terrible... You're making them happy, but you're depriving yourself of so much."

"I know, Phil. I don't want to remember either," you replied, nodding understandingly. He didn't want to push you further. The silence settled once again, but you felt the urge to break it. You had spent so long in the shadows that you had forgotten what the sun looked like.

Phillip held your hand, studying your almost identical hands. The only difference being that his was larger and rougher, while yours still retained the softness of youth and femininity. He noticed a dark, prominent mark on your hand.

You nervously laughed, slipping your hand from his grasp and mumbling, "I burned my hand a long time ago. Must have been really clumsy."

You had to leave, and quickly. He couldn't know. Not yet.

Standing up, you looked around, avoiding his gaze. "It's getting late. I should get some rest. I have some rookies to train tomorrow."

Phillip watched as you retreated back inside, wondering what had just transpired. Inside him, every fiber of his being radiated with happiness. He couldn't believe he had gotten to know you a little better, even though your last statement had made you tense.

Frowning, he once again felt lost. Nothing seemed to solve the mystery of his existence. His mind fixated on the burn, the one on your hand, so similar to...

His head snapped up, and he frantically searched his uniform for the picture he had found in the archive room some time ago. He always kept it with him, gazing at the faces every now and then.

Phillip stared in shock at the picture, finally connecting the dots. The hand, making a peace sign, belonged to you. It was almost ironic how he had never noticed that detail before.

The burn mark was unmistakable. How was he so blind?

He was now faced with even more questions. Why did you avoid talking about the incident? Who were the two other people in the picture? What on earth was happening in this place?

[cadybear420]

OTP Relationship Asks for Evie and Aiden

Started working on this about a year ago. I could do an ask game but... might as well finish what I started. Also I lost the Source unfortunately, so there's that. But the questions themselves are still here lol

1. Who most initiates PDA?

Usually Evie, she can not keep her hands off of her man. Aiden sometimes likes to relish the attention and praise, other times he likes to initiate it himself and return the affections.

2. Any sleep habits either had to get used to?

Sometimes Evie tosses and turns while trying to find a sleep position that isn't making her uncomfortable and that can get a bit irritating for Aiden. Evie also likes to stay up later sometimes, whereas Aiden tends to fall asleep a bit earlier and doesn't stay up late quite as easily.

3. Hot and Steamy or Soft and Tender?

Yes.

4. How did they first meet?

Berry High. If you've played the game you technically already know. But there are a few differences + headcanons, kinda. I elaborate on it here.

5. What is their love language?

Both of them gravitate towards pretty much all 5 of the love languages. Aiden's favorite to receive would have to be words of affirmation, and Evie's favorite to receive would probably be quality time.

6. When did they realize they loved each other?

Evie realized she loved him not too long after they became official, but she wanted to give it time and let it sink in, not wanting to rush things.

Aiden realized he loved Evie during their after-promposal picnic night, but he wasn't able to say it until prom.

7. Who is more sentimental?

Evie. She is able to focus on the present and future, but she also places great value on preserving past memories as it helps her see how far she's come.

Aiden has generally always been more of a "focus on the present" kind of guy, but has also come to somewhat share Evie's value for this.

8. What’s one way their personalities compliment one another?

Both of them are very passionate about their hobbies: Aiden with his music, Evie with her sports and writing. Even though they don't really engage in each other's hobbies, this sort of passion and dedication is something they can relate to each other on and thus they can share their passions with each other better. In fact, Aiden's passion is what drew Evie to him in the first place.

See also: Their parallels and them coming full circle

9. How are their personalities different?

Aiden grew up in a semi-strict household and, for the most of his life, has been very reserved and focused on his music. He's often been a lot more shy and quiet. Sometimes he's proud of his skill and dedication, sometimes he sees himself as a failure or not good enough.

Evie on the other hand tends to be a bit more free-thinking and less openly insecure about her own artistic passions as well as her GNC identity– she'd grown up in a more relaxed household. Though not everyone in her past schools was easy to get along with, and that did some damage to her social skills. She's tended to be a bit impulsive at times.

10. What are some non-sexual activities they do together? 

Basic cuddling and kissing, usually involving Aiden in Evie's lap.

Evie listening to Aiden perform music. Sometimes he'll play a song he composed, other times he'll do a cover of a song that Evie really likes.

Dancing with each other. Their favorites are ballroom/waltz dances and sexy sensual dances.

Watching favorite movies with each other (and geeking out over the really really good soundtracks when they come up).

Simply cuddling under a blanket and dozing off in each other's arms during a cold day. This often results in them having a very intense and exciting lucid dream together.

Massaging each other.

Bathing or showering together. More often than not, it gets a little more steamy, but they also really enjoy scrubbing each other down, washing each other's hair, and (for baths) watching a movie together.

Cooking food together and then pigging out on whatever dishes they just made. Evie tends to like simpler and more basic dishes, but sometimes with a little twist. Aiden usually enjoys what she prepares. Even when it leaves him stuffed to his head afterwards, because Evie likes to give him tummy massage.

Shopping. Aiden usually finds shopping boring, but when Evie's with him (and it's a store that at least one of them is invested in), it's anything but that. Their primary shopping trips generally involve going to clothing stores and Aiden getting dressed up in all the cutest little numbers that they can find– he LOVES the attention and praise he gets from Evie when he wears stuff like midriff tops and short shorts.

11. Which member is more physically affectionate?

Both of them equally, though I think Evie can be a bit more hyper-affectionate.

12. Which member is more verbally affectionate?

Probably Evie. Aiden does like to his feelings verbally too, but it is a bit more difficult for him. He also really adores stuff like praise and compliments and words of affirmation from Evie, so she kind of goes out of her way to give him that, and he does enjoy reciprocating.

13. Which member steals borrows the other ones clothing?

Evie has her own set of crop tops she likes to wear to show off her abs. Although Aiden owns his own crop tops, he sometimes likes to "borrow" from Evie.

14. Are they an introverted couple or an extroverted one—AKA would they prefer to go out to a party or event together or would they rather stay in?

They're kind of a mix of both. They love parties and social events just as much as they do staying in. What matters to them in the end is just spending quality time with each other.

15. Who is more likely to make an impulsive decision and who is the voice of reason?

Evie has usually been the one to do or say something without fully thinking first. She tones down on that a bit, but Aiden does play the voice of reason to it when she does.

16. Who stays up way too late and who tries to drag them to bed?

Evie sometimes has more difficulty falling asleep earlier. She might stay up in bed listening to music, playing games, writing, etc. while Aiden is asleep. He never feels the need to drag her to bed, though.

17. Who fell in love first?

Although Aiden was the first one to confess his love, Evie was technically the first to fall in love with him. She'd fallen in love with him sometime around when they first became official, Aiden fell in love with her during their post-promposal picnic.

18. What song fits them perfectly?

Oh boy. I can not even begin to list all the songs that vibe with them.

19. How do they deal with being away from each other for a long time?

This hasn't usually been a problem for them, besides when Aiden graduated and started at Terman U while Evie was completing her senior year at Berry. But they'd always manage to keep in touch and talk regularly via text. Occasionally they'd phone call or video chat each other.

In fact I once had a random headcanon that Andy Kang from ILITW also went to Terman U after he graduated high school (by my calculations it's fair to assume that they both graduated the same year), and he and Aiden were placed in a dorm together. And while the two do bond, I'm also just imagining Andy getting slightly annoyed with how Aiden will often spend long periods of time on a phone call with Evie. Like he's happy for him but he's also like "dude chill", IDK lol.

20. Who holds a grudge the longest?

Neither of them, really.

21. Which of the two is quick to speak and which one is quick to listen?

Evie and Aiden respectively. But it usually depends.

22. Who gets more easily embarrassed?

Aiden. Obviously. Though I guess it kind of depends.

23. Who overthinks the most?

Both of them, but probably Aiden more.

24. Which of the two is the most competitive?

Evie, but it's in a very lighthearted way.

25. Who’s the most stubborn?

Usually Evie.

26. How do they comfort each other?

[1] [2] [3]

27. What random everyday object/activity makes them think of each other?

Evie can not look at anything music or music-related without thinking of Aiden.

Eggplants kind of make Aiden think of Evie. Same first initial, purple is Evie's favorite color, and... I think you know why else he makes the association.

28. Do they get along with each other’s friends and family?

Scott is of course very chill, though sometimes his dad jokes can get a bit embarrassing.

Glen and Bridget used to look down upon Evie back during the whole Isa drama, but after that they've become more accepting and have grown to have a lot of respect for her.

29. What is their sex life like?

At this point now I have a ton of posts about it. But here are the basics.

Neither of them like traditional mainstraight sex roles/acts. Both of them far prefer pegging, as well as Evie fingering Aiden.

Evie has major bottom dysphoria and never wants her "lady bits" touched aside from friction from wearing a strap-on or grinding Aiden's ass. Nor does she ever want to experience being penetrated– it's an incredibly discomforting idea.

Aiden is lukewarm at best to the idea of penetrating and having his genitals touched. At the very most, he's okay with Evie occasionally squeezing his dick for a little bit while she pleasures him. And maybe her giving him oral with the use of a flavored condom (and even then it's a huge "maybe" for both of them), but that's it.

They take turns taking the lead, depending on how they each feel. Evie loooooves being a service top. Sometimes they do it more slow and tender, sometimes they do it hard and rough.

They also like to use other toys such as vibrating eggs/plugs, non-strap dildos.

They also enjoy forms of sexual intimacy other than intercourse/penetrative as well, such as grinding, sensual dancing, body massage/kissing/worship. Aiden loves having his perineum stimulated.

Evie in particular loves to shower Aiden's body with attention, and he absolutely adores being made to feel sexy and desirable like that. He wears lingerie for her a lot as well, and seeing Evie's breath become ragged at just the sight is another thing that really gets him going.

Even outside of the bedroom, many of their other displays of affection can be fairly sexually/sensually charged. Evie sneaking a squeeze to Aiden's ass, Aiden dressing in a cutesy slightly revealing outfit that makes him feel confident and that he knows will make Evie's pulse race, Evie gently brushing her fingers along Aiden's waist/hip/thigh, Aiden sashaying his hips a little when he walks in front of Evie, Aiden swaying and rolling his hips side-to-side while dancing with Evie, Evie deliberately flexing her abs and biceps in front of Aiden, getting a bit extra close against each other when Evie hugs Aiden from behind or when Aiden straddles Evie's lap or when Evie rests her head against Aiden's chest, and much more.

Some more in-depth headcanons: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

30. What is their favorite place to kiss the other? (Cheek, hand, closed eyelid, neck, nose, etc.)

Aiden has an affinity for kissing Evie's jawline, neck, biceps, and abs.

Evie has an affinity for kissing his cheek, forehead, the top of his head, collarbone, stomach, hips, butt, thighs...

31. What’s the relationship like? Smooth? Rocky?

Mostly smooth. They've come across the occasional rocky challenge, but it's mostly easy for them to get through it.

32. How do they resolve their arguments?

Communication. Simply talking out the issue with each other, listening to each other's sides of the situation, etc.

33. Who has the most nightmares and how do they deal with them?

Evie's a little bit more prone to nightmares. Aiden hugging her like a mama cat with her baby can be very soothing to this, though.

34. Do they give each other nicknames?

Evie loves to call Aiden: Darling, Baby, Babe, Baby Boy, Babygirl, My King, Princess, My Princess, Sweetie, Cupcake, Love, Honey, Honeybun, Honeybuns, and probably more that I'm forgetting about.

Aiden loves to call Evie: Sweetheart, Darling, My Muse, My Love, and probably more that I'm forgetting about.

35. What movies do they enjoy watching most?

There are a lot but here are some significant ones:

The Incredibles: Already a major favorite of Evie's, and it was the first ever movie that the two had watched together. Evie invited Aiden to her house a few days after the homecoming dance and they watched the movie together that night.

The Matrix movies: More favorites of Evie's, and also something they watched early on into their relationship. They have mixed feelings about the fourth one, though.

Fantasia (both the original and 2000): Aiden's favorite Disney animated movies, obviously.

Mulan: Evie's favorite Disney renaissance animated movie. Aiden considers it the Disney's second best musical movie (first best is Hunchback of Notre Dame, unless you count Fantasia as a musical IDK).

Aladdin (both the original and the live-action): Guilty pleasure movies because Evie is obsessed with the soundtracks. Aiden can definitely see why and agrees with her. Also they maaayyy somewhaaaat fit the Aladdin-Jasmine dynamics, somewhat.

Tangled: They had a random Tangled phase for a bit, taking place some time after prom. They don't anymore but Evie kind of holds the movie close to them.

Mean Girls: Another favorite of Evie's. Fun fact, the first time I played HSS I'd named my MC "Cady Heron". Eventually I changed the name to make it a bit more personalized. And yes, that is how I chose my Tumblr username, from hearing Scott call my MC "Cady-bear" all the time.

James Bond movies: Evie loves the whole aesthetic of James Bond and other secret agent/spy movies. They both love the soundtracks, especially the opening themes. They sometimes like to do karaoke/duets/solos of some of the opening themes (Thunderball, You Only Live Twice, Skyfall, Goldfinger, Diamonds Are Forever, Tomorrow Never Dies opening & ending, No Time To Die). Aiden may also do a recreation of the "From Russia With Love"

And probably a lot more I'm forgetting about

36. How’d they meet each other’s families?

I mean if you've played the game you technically already know lol. Aiden first met Evie's dad after he asked her to hoco, and Evie first met Aiden's parents when she went to see him after he got suspended.

37. What do they like the least about each other?

Something Evie doesn't like about Aiden: The way he sometimes has downplayed compliments and can be self deprecating. And also sometimes his humming can be a bit disruptive when she's trying to focus on something.

Something Aiden doesn't like about Evie: Sometimes her impulsive tendencies can get him by surprise and be a bit much for him.

38. What was their most memorable date?

They really can't pick just one.

39. What other couple would your OTP get along with the best?

Michael & Maria (who get together as a QPR in my headcanons) are the couple they're closest with. Jade & Caleb and Nishan & Sakura are close seconds though.

I also have a headcanon that a year after they marry, they move into a small apartment in San Francisco for a while. While there, they end up becoming neighbors with my MAH MC Peggy Stone and Tyler Woods (who is her boyfriend), who have made a permanent move to there a couple of years earlier. The two couples become close friends very quickly, and stay close in touch when Evie and Aiden move back to Cedar Cove.

40. Who makes the other smile with almost no effort at all?

Both of them, but mostly Aiden. Him literally just existing makes Evie smile.

[marshmallowprotection]

Hello mr lettuce man im back 🔙

Ive been playing Zen's route (for the first time ! >_o ) and i made my CMC!

His name is Romeo. Some crumbs:

So he's a little bit stupid but more so reckless and impulsive. He does urban exploring and stupid little vlogs and plays the bass guitar

Hes always sneefing around interesting things and doing stupid stuff like trying to jump fences or get into private places just because he thought of it and it sounds fun and maybe he'll find something cool..

I dont know where hes from yet but hes not from korea. I think hes there to study. Hes studying graphic design.

He saw the mr lettuce man request as a fun sidequest. Hes so full of whimsy. That's why hes downloading sus apps with 0 reviews to meet cute guys . He got more than he bargained for!

As you know Zen is a little fragile masculinity guy but Romeo is the new RFA guy so hes more polite and curious with him at the beginning than he would be otherwise . Then he realised hes really fun to talk to! Oh no! Hes gonna get the cooties! /Lh

Heres some sillies. I drew a silly pfp for him . Gotta take a selfie im the weird apartment im in amiright guys #exploring #gonewrong #arg

Oh, I don't think I've seen an MC who does urban exploring before. That's actually fitting since most reasonable people aren't going to travel to a secondary location unless they want to find out what's in that strange building over there. The apartment is kind of odd to me because we know V owns the building, and I'm certain other people live there, but how many? Did he give Rika that entire floor when she asked for the room? That would make sense, but that makes it seem like the apartment is such a liminal space.

He's got a t-shirt that says "I went to explore this spooky ass building to find out if the Lettuce Man was there... and all I got out of it was a boyfriend. I STILL DON'T KNOW IF LETTUCE MAN IS REAL."

I hope he and Zen go exploring together! Zen probably did a bit of that when he was homeless, not by interest, though. He had to find places that were safe to sleep at night, so he knows that places that most people think are scary or haunted, really aren't. They're just a place where people go to stay warm at night. But, it would be cool to see him explore new places with Romeo and say, "You know, there's not really a ghost in that building. It's my buddy messing with punks. He makes a damn good street pancake, babe."