#in fairness. the fucking long game here would be kind of funny

[midnightshindig]

What about Ruby and Amanda with a kid super reader

Of course being platonic, the reader is only comfortable being around them since they don't know that they're basically adults trapped in a kids body

Which leads to maybe them helping the reader get out of their shell more with the rest of the guardians, and they help mentor them and such, tho they do still have fun with their brutally honest antics

Just thought this would be adorable in a way

Monster Girl, Robot & Child!Superhero!Reader!! (platonic)

euhghghfsgarweip this is SUCH a cute idea omg

side note but it is SO funny to me that Amanda's va was so clearly told to do a childlike voice (within reason) and Rudy's va is just. Some dude. Also. Fascinated by the implication that despite having Rex's vocal cords, even grown up Rudy sounds like Robot and NOT Rex. At all. It's wild I love it

hcs under the cut!!

Rudy is AWFUL with children

I'd say you're around Oliver's age, maybe a smidge older

Definitely no older than 12

And Rudy just can't get a fucking grip

He has a hard time speaking in terms REX would understand, let alone you

But to be fair you're a good deal smarter than Rex, you actually received an education.

Amanda, on the other hand, is pretty good with kids

she seems like the type of person who is a nonchalant aunt

Probably doesn't see her nieces/nephews anymore due to her....condition(?)

So she's super child about things when you start clinging to her during GotG meetings

She's pretty used to handling Rudy's social incompetence, err, more accurately his anxieties and rough-around-the-edge nature

You yourself are a pretty anxious child

Socially, that is

It's a little funny?

Kicking MAJOR ass on the battlefield, but Bulletproof asks what you think about mushrooms on the pizza he's ordering for dinner and you're like "hhhhhhhidunnomushroomssoundfine"

and you're allergic to mushrooms but wtv

Amanda and Rudy are such a unit by the time you join the GotG (around the end of s2, i'd say) that Amanda taking you under her wing means spending ample time with Rudy as well

As hard as it is for him to interact with you on your level, he finds your quietness and curiosity about the world endearing

Amanda will leave to use the restroom and come back to find you staring at Rudy while he does some weird engineering shit, just absolutely awestruck

After long enough you begin to ask question

"Uhm- Rudy..? Why are you connecting those wires like that? I've never seen you do it that way."

"Oh. This method is more efficient for...." blah blah blah blah blah

and you're paying CLOSE attention

The three of you form a tight little unit

lowkey Amanda's having just a great time fucking braiding your hair and talking to Rudy like you're their kid

not like you're THEIR KID but like

They have a responsibility to look out for you

and that's a comfortable kind of weight to carry when you care about someone

and she loves you

isn't that just the best?

Once you've found a home base in Rudy and Amanda, it becomes easier for you to interact with the other guardians

it's slow work, Rex joining you for movies here and there, occasionally Rae will ask you a question about your day or your thoughts on something and you'll choke out a real response

You finally tell everyone you're allergic to mushroom so please can we get just normal pepperoni please

and they do

I hc Amanda is the kind of person to find harmless pranks HILARIOUS

Like she will whoopie cushion your ass and crack up while Rudy explains he tried to stop her

It makes you kinda raw when they go on dates and you're not invited

but surprisingly, it's less scary with them gone than it used to be

you'll be playing video games or crocheting or working out or something and Black Samson will just.... come hang out with you?

Just to have some company

Or Shapesmith will ask you questions about what human childhood is like

which is difficult to answer because you've never experienced NOT being a child

but it's a valuable experience either way

"So.... do you really lose teeth?"

"mhm!! Here look-" You opened your mouth and prodded at an empty space in your teeth with your tongue "This one finally came out after that fight on Monday, it's gonna take a few weeks for the adult one to grow in"

"Thats..... upsetting."

You grinned an awkward smile, full display of your weirdly small teeth

It made Shapesmith grateful he never experienced baby teeth

After becoming closer with you, it starts stressing Rudy out during fights

He KNOWS logically you're capable

but Amanda is right, he's responsible for you by virtue of being "the adult" and more importantly, being your adult

He starts pulling double duty to make protective wear for you

this man over her like "The padding in your knees, elbows, and skull all need to be reinforced, you could sprain your wrist, Y/n!"

"....Rudy I've had my femur snapped in half before...."

Don't remind him

He cried about it, it was so distressing to have to send an empty robot suit to fly you to the GDA hospital

Rudy never cries

but also he's a little proud you remembered what a femur was

Amanda calls you "Kiddo" but for humorous effect, its hilarious coming from her Loud House ass voice

Rudy calls your by your name, but refers to you as "the child" when talking to other people, or even a "young Y/n"

he just talks weird it isn't his fault!!

Amanda won't throw birthday parties for herself

she has a problem letting her life go well

BUT, she thinks they're important for a kid to experience

your first birthday at a Guardian is incredible

the entire HQ is DECKED in decorations

Rae and Rex team up to try and make your favorite food plus a cake

Black Samson is trying to figure out how to hook his Spotify up to the speakers

Zandale is somewhere explaining birthday parties to Shapesmith

Rudy is using empty robots to continue hanging party streamers in the rafters

and Amanda is holding a big box with your gift in it, beaming with pride as she-- solely-- yells

"Surprise!!! Open your gift!!"

She pushes it into your arms as you stumble under the weight of it

Obviously you rip into it, pulling out some vague but emotionally impactful gift

Probably some childish shit like an easy bake oven (but one Rudy tricked out) or a board game you loved or something

Padding the bottom are miscellaneous articles of clothing

You pull them out and marvel at them, but...

"Amanda these are way too big, these are like.... clothes for a teenager or an adult."

Amanda just shrugs casually "yeah, they were mine but... yknow, not like I'm gonna need them anytime soon."

There's a heaviness in the air before Black Samson yells out

"I GOT IT!!"

and music floods the HQ

A few hours later, all birthday rituals were successfully fulfilled

Most of the Guardians have trickled off back to their own lives, leaving you, Rudy, and Amanda on the couch, watching one of your favorite movies

It doesn't matter though, you're passed out curled up against the arm of the couch

Amanda sits next to you, her head leaning onto Rudy on her other side, himself leaning into her as a counterweight

it's an idyllic scene to be certain

what a great birthday ^^

[lsunstreakerl]

surprise! SH!Charles POV!! this is just little snapshots of him and max through the years before they get together- I was going to put it in chapter 20 but it didn't flow as well as I would have liked, and I like it too much to just completely cut. also I figured you guys would still want to read it lol :)

2.3k words never say I don't love u all

The Dutch boy is being yelled at again. The sky is grey, overcast and drizzling, and Charles has just had a supremely unsatisfying race.

The weather feels reflective of his mood. Part of him wants to stomp his foot that it isn't fair, the other part of him wants to cry. Jules has been teaching him to channel his emotions in other ways, and Charles is enrolled in piano lessons now. Maybe if he bruises his fingers on the keys hard enough it will feel worth it.

The Dutch boy had gotten first, but Charles can see him and his trainer by the pitwall. His trainer is dry under the awning, shouting so loud the tendons on his neck are straining. Charles thinks the other boy's name might start with an "M", and he's standing in the rain, shoulders pulled tight with his fingers digging into his helmet.

His trainer must be very stupid, to let his athlete stand in the rain like that. Then again, Charles also thinks it's crazy for anyone their age to have a trainer at all- most of them are coached by their parents still.

Charles is still thinking about it in the car, helmet resting on top of his thighs.

"Papa? Would I race better if you yelled?"

His father reaches over to set a hand on his knee, gripping it gently before shaking it.

"You are comparing yourself to the other boys again."

Charles frowns. He's not comparing, he's just... noticing some differences.

"But he wins."

His father sighs, and he looks pensive at the road ahead of them.

"So it is about Max."

Max, that's his name. Charles knew that, but he lets the letters roll around in his head anyways, all sharp sounds and blunt edges.

"Charlot, I would not do that to you. I could not- you are my son. I love you."

"I love you too!"

Charles isn't sure what "not yelling" and "being his son" have to do with each other in this context, because he's only ever seen Max with his trainer before. The idea of him with a dad is weird.

Papa likes to tuck Charles in and play board games after dinner with them. He likes to read stories with funny voices and dance in the kitchen with Maman, he likes to point out the different boats in the harbor and watch terrible sitcoms in the living room.

Charles isn't sure he's ever even seen Max smile.

------

"Putain! Stupid son of a-"

Charles chucks his helmet at the wall, and even the dent it leaves behind isn't enough to cool down his anger. Stupid race. Stupid kart, stupid rules, stupid Max-

He peels out of his racesuit, aggressively yanking on a pair of jeans from the floor and a sweatshirt out of his suitcase.

Stupid fucking Dutchie, thinking the whole track is his, and everyone else should just let him by, here comes the future Formula 1 racer-

Charles won't do that, and he's paid the price for it today with a fucking DNF. A DNF, and it isn't even his fault.

The good news is Charles knows whose fault it actually is. The better news is that Charles has a good idea of where to find him. He slips out of the hotel, and he needs to be quick, because Jules and Papa will want to talk to him, tell him kind reassuring words.

Charles doesn't want kindness, Charles wants to fight.

Sure enough, Max is tucked away near the car park, in an old valets booth that's no longer in use. He's in ratty shoes and an even rattier sweater, logo for a local football team long faded.

He also has a mostly empty bottle of gin between his fingers.

Max lifts his head when Charles gets closer, lips curling into a sneer. His eyes are bright and focused, despite how much he's had to drink, and Charles still wants to punch him in the face.

"What, are you here for driving tips?"

Stupid cocky fuck, Charles hates him. His blood is boiling, and he's still pissed off as he slams his hands down, gets right up into Max's face. His breath smells like gin, and there's a slight swelling around his left eye- he must have knocked it into his helmet somewhere.

"Fuck you, you stupid cunt- what is your problem? Why do you think the whole track belongs to you, seriously, what is your deal? Is it brain damage? Can we fix it? Can we fix you-"

Charles is abruptly cut off as Max grabs the front of his shirt and yanks him down, and suddenly there are chapped lips pressed to his, and Max tastes like nicotine and gin, like a vice, like something Charles shouldn't have. Something Charles knows better than to indulge in.

He's kissing him back anyways.

------

Charles is sixteen, and Max is going to move into Formula 1. Charles hates him. Charles hates him because he's arrogant and rude, and he hates him because he doesn't care about anyone else, and he hates him because he had completely and irrevocably changed Charles' life when they were fourteen, and he was too drunk to remember it.

It's a burden Charles bears alone, and it's a memory he keeps tight to his chest. Not even Pierre knows about it, because despite being fourteen Charles had understood that it would be much, much worse for Max if anyone found out.

Sometimes when he's feeling particularly alone he'll light a cigarette. Won't smoke it- just light it, balance it on the windowsill and look outside. He remembers the way Max had kissed him, chapped lips and liquor and desperation, the way Max kissed like it was another fight. Something else to win.

Charles hadn't even been aware he liked boys.

------

The bass at this party is so loud Charles can't even hear himself think. He's pretty sure the walls are vibrating, and also his bones, and his brain too. He's been trying to find the bathroom for ten minutes, and he's hopelessly lost in the dark. The hallway occasionally strobes with flashing lights, because whoever owns this random house they've ended up at throws parties a lot.

Charles had to sign an NDA before he stepped in.

His phone is in a locker near the entryway.

He passes a bathroom with two girls doing lines, and he spots white tablets scattered across the counter.

He's not going into that one- Charles is in the middle of the race season, and he's not a huge fan of pills in general.

He's ended up in a residential wing now, several closed doors and suspicious noises that are definitely sex.

He spots a cracked door and swings it open further, only to stop dead in his tracks, stunned.

It's Max.

It's Max and some other guy, and Max is miles of pale skin and long lanky limbs in the sheets, head tossed back into the pillows, and Charles needs to leave.

Neither of them even notice he's there when Charles takes a few quick steps back, feet muffled in the carpet as he tries to put the door exactly the way it was.

He feels like a voyeur, but the image is burned into his eyelids, the long line of Max's throat, the way his wrists were pinned above him, and Charles' brain short circuits for a quick second, because he's pretty sure now that he's thinking about it, the other man with the curls and tanned skin-

Okay. Max is hooking up with his teammate. That's a choice.

Charles' nose wrinkles as he thinks about it. There are several other drivers Max could've decided to do that with- drivers in their generation.

Nothing against Daniel, it's just. Max has options. Charles isn't even saying it should've been him, because Max could hook up with Pierre and that would be fine.

He's grinding his teeth.

Charles is a liar. That would not be fine, he would have to kill Pierre, or marry Esteban, or something equally as horrific to get back at him.

It's cool. Max can do whatever he wants as long as it's not beating Charles in a race. It doesn't matter that he was Charles' first kiss, or that they're sixteen days apart, or that Charles feels like he's constantly chasing him, always a few steps behind.

It's just-

Charles has been cradling Max's secrets close to his chest for years. The way he tastes, the dark set of his eyes when he's upset, the way Charles has known him since they were little.

Daniel can fuck him all he wants-

Charles knows he and Max have something deeper. He can be patient, he can prove himself, he can make himself into an opponent that Max can't ignore.

It won't even be a question then; of who deserves him. Charles knows he'll come out on top.

------

"Calamar, why are you not just opening the damn bottle."

Pierre is glaring at him, but Charles can't open it now, because they're hanging out at the rooftop pool. Max is on the other side of the pool with Daniel and Carlos and Hulk, and if he sees that Charles actually can open his own wine, he'll stop doing it for him.

Charles is in too deep to lose that now, even if it means floating in the shallow end, frustratingly sober, waiting for Max to notice and come open it.

Normally this plan works great.

Normally, Max is not distracted by three of the people Charles dislikes most at the moment.

Daniel, because walking in on them has sparked a rivalry Daniel doesn't understand and Charles isn't willing to admit.

Carlos, because Max likes an accent and hair with lots of volume, and Charles can acknowledge that his teammate is hot, even if he thinks he's annoying and slightly stuck up.

Hulk, because once Max starts drinking and getting excited about something he goes full Dutchie, rosy cheeks and gesticulating hands, and Hulk likes to enable that behavior.

Pierre follows Charles' eyes.

"You have got to be- fucks sake, give me that."

He yanks away the bottle, and it's open and back in Charles' hands within seconds.

Pierre is still glaring.

"And yet when I do it, you don't give me bedroom eyes."

Charles rolls his eyes as he takes a long drink.

"You don't want my bedroom eyes. And I don't want to hear it, you're still all hung up on-"

Pierre snatches the bottle back again, and when he raises it to his mouth he keeps drinking.

Charles takes the hint.

------

Apparently, Max has decided he likes Charles now, when they're in their twenties, instead of when they were younger, which is when normal people make friends. He does this by finding Charles after every single race and talking his ear off.

They've been calling it "maxsplaining" in the media and around the paddock, but Charles thinks that's stupid. Anyone who knows Max knows that it isn't a post-race thing specifically- Max just likes to talk.

If he thinks he has a listener, that is.

Charles listens.

Charles always listens.

------

"Red flag, Red flag, return to pits."

"What is it? What happened?"

"Come back to pit Charles."

------

Max looks small in the hospital bed. He's pale, swamped in thick blankets. It's technically not visiting hours anymore, but Charles is well liked enough in Silverstone to get snuck upstairs for a few minutes.

The nurse had said he was asleep, and that he was on pain meds.

Charles hasn't been in a hospital since his father died.

------

"You are staring."

Charles startles as Max breaks off his speech about domestic shorthairs, which is genuinely an achievement, because Max really likes to talk about cats.

"Sorry- I am listening."

Max narrows his eyes.

"Are you?"

Charles carefully sets his drink back down on the bar, leans in just a little bit closer. Max had cut the smoking before he went into Formula 1, but Charles can still smell the gin on his breath, the spot on his lip where he's been biting it during the driver meetings.

Charles wonders if he still kisses the same.

"To you? Always."

------

Max is on the roof, the night sky splattered with stars above them. Charles is careful with his grip on the bottle of red between his fingers as he makes his way over, feet crunching on the gravel before he lowers himself to the ground next to Max.

Max turns his head to look at him, mouth twisted in a frown.

"If you are here to gloat I do not want to hear it."

Charles hums. Their thighs are almost touching, and it would only take the tiniest shift, but-

Not yet.

He holds the bottle to Max.

"I can't get it."

Max's eyebrows raise, and Charles catches himself wondering if Max has been indulging him this entire time- if he's just as aware as Charles is that he doesn't need help with the bottle.

"You live in Monaco. You're French-adjacent, you drive for an Italian team- there is no way you cannot open a wine bottle."

Charles just shrugs.

"If you cannot either then you can just say that."

Max snorts, but he's opening the bottle anyways, passing it back over to Charles.

"Here."

"Merci."

Charles isn't sure how long they sit there passing the bottle between them until he tips it back and hears Max laugh softly next to him.

"It is of course empty, Charles."

Oh.

Charles frowns at the bottle before looking back up at Max.

"I have more in my room, if you would like...?"

Max looks back at him, and there's something complicated in his eyes, something Charles can't quite figure out.

He nods.

Charles pulls him to his feet, and they're both giggling as they clumsily sneak through the hallways, back into Charles' hotel room, Charles' bed, Charles' sheets.

Max is gone when he wakes up.

[aaasdgnklm]

AND IT ISNT EVEN ABOUT JADEN. WHAT. IM GONNA RIOT. FUCK ME FUCK ME also yey egg is back :333

watching wemmbus uu ep aaaaaaaaaaaaa yayay

GOD WEMMBU STOP LOOSING UR MACE BRO WTF

I was so not expecting sharpness/conexion to be an actual problem but I love his voice so not mad

BRO HOW MANY TOTEMS DOES SHARP HAVE

ok so sharp is lowkey ass at mace pvp noted

wemmbu: ROOF EGG

egg: whats wrong w the roof?

wemmbu: WE NEED MORE OF IT I MEAN LESS OF IT

ooooooooo breach swapping ehehe

this is actually the stupidest fight ever omg

“your attention span is probably worse than mine” -wemmbu

this seems like so not a threat tbh

WE???????????????

bro the we is back I’m so happy

this will be his fatal mistake I’m calling it

I CALLED IT BRO 20 SECS LATER

‘I will steal the second mace off your dead body trust me’ kinda goes hard ngl

an almost repeating infinite pattern thats a little different this time around? thats not a metaphor trust

ough just realized how much happier wemmbu sounds now that egg is back :(((

ok correct me if I’m wrong but IDT THE FARLANDS IS SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE THIS BRUH

wemmbu: yo we found a guy out here

egg: is he a zombie

wemmbu: uhh bro are you a zombie?

person: *shakes head*

wemmbu: I dont think so

NOT ANOTHER FUCKING EMPIRE BRO IMA CRASH OUT

PZE? PZE?????? IN THIS ECONOMY???????????????

actually wtf is up with the farlands

this is. kinda awful feeling idk if I like this

OH OH WAIT SHARP PULL UP AT THE CRAZIEST TIME

so is wemmbu just gonna relive all his pze trauma in this vid

ok so example number 6532792 of wemmbu sacraficing himself to save others

sharpness is the silliest villain thats genuinely threatening I love him

theyre so cooked 😭😭😭

“wait bro lemme try that” 😭😭😭😭😭?????hello????????????

it is rly funny that sharp is like so confident yet lowkey loosing bcuz he outgears wemmbu so bad so in a fair fight bro wouldve lost alr

SAVING UR ENEMY IS CRAZY OMG WEMMBU NO JUST LET HIM DIE

aw hes learning techniques that arent bloodshed I’m so proud of him

so sharp is actually a kind of goated villain. hes not overly threatening or mean to wemmbu, but hes extremely overconfident, skillful enugh to be a threat, fairly smart, and most importantly he doesnt have a ‘too far’. hes a little bit like early pirate arc jaden, if jaden was less outwardly threatening and more selfish/alone. sharp literally doesnt have anything he wouldnt do for the sake of honor or smthn similar, yes mane and wemmbu and flame and some others will use underhanded tactics to win and theyre not scared of that at all, but its not just that sharpness will be ‘evil’- its also that he wants to win. like he JUST wants to win, he doesnt have a love of the fight like mane or a need to prove himself like wemmbu, sharpness seems to really only care about the end result. he literally doesnt care how it happens, as long as he gets what he wants. not only would he kill someone, hed kill someone with no fanfare and then simply yawn as he walked away. hes also more than willing to just abandon a fight, if he thinks he can come back to it later and win then or if he just doesnt think he’ll win. its funny because on paper sharp and wemmbu kinda sound the same; theyre both willing to do whatever it takes to win, mostly wandering without a specific purpose, are willing to run from a risky situation, and mostly prefer being alone. sharpness however has this kind of apathetic insanity to him that wemmbu is solidly missing the ‘apathetic’ part of, in a weird way sharpness treats it how it actually is, a video game. I feel like wemmbu will have to outsmart sharpness, beyond just in the pvp way. hes not super dangerous, but hes a good side villain :3

[bnhaficsforthesoul]

oh god it has been so freaking long since I did a request here lol but I'll do one because well the requests are open heheheh~ could u pls do sfw and nsfw headcannons for how being in a relationship with the bakusquad (poly ofc cuz i'm a sucker for those babies) would be like??

this relationship started as you had been a part of the bakusquad from the beginning, all of you were very close

but during sleepovers and such you all started to notice just how much cuddling and touching you were all comfortable with

lots of you even sleeping in the same bed together, completely tangled together

a few of you probably even 'platonically' kissed or made out

eventually a couple of you who were brave enough, probably being Kiri, you, and Denki, were able to have a conversation about possibly liking everyone in the group

you decided to bring it up to everyone else, who had no complaints. even bakugou didn't fight it too much

and so suddenly you were all officially dating, spending your last year of high school as a poly group, but you probably kept it lowkey for a while

because you guys didn't know how people would react to ALL OF YOU dating each other, it might seem weird

(even though all your classmates could sense something weird)

from the beginning you guys tried to figure out how to keep this as fair as possible so no one felt left out - talking about making sure everyone had 1 on 1 time with each other, as well as group time together. and doing anything you can to prevent jealousy

it was kind of awkward at first too, because you were all such great friends that it felt weird to try and be coupley, but you all soon found a way to do so

Katsuki gets kind of embarrassed when a part of the group, especially if everyone specifically goes after him to coddle. he does love all of you, and he more so shows this through acts of service or one on one time. Again, he loves you all, but he's better at expressing this 1 on 1

he loves cooking for everyone, or helping you all train, things like that

eijirou is kind of overwhelmed by having all these people who love him so much but he adores it. he's great for when you all hang out together because he's trying to give everyone attention. you'll probably be holding his hand and look over to find him kissing katsuki while also holding minas hand, it's kind of funny

denki and Mina are very excited about everything constantly, they love giving and receiving affection from everyone. they always wanna spend time with everyone. they're both very cute and among the less shy about showing off your relationship

sero also tries to act casual about it and easily gets embarrassed by all the affection from everyone. he tends to prefer one on one time or smaller groups when he's being more romantic

overall it really is just having super caring best friends that you touch inappropriately sometimes

nsfw

you guys definitely waited a good while before becoming fully sexually active with each other

mainly because you all weren't entirely sure how to make it a fair thing for everyone to start off with, and wanted everyone to be equally ready to do it. because honestly you would all most likely be taking each other's virginity

whenever it was clear you guys were ready to, you probably just like had some random chooser or whatever to figure out who would be who's first, that way there was an even amount of none of us know what were doing, and it didn't seem unfair through purposeful choosing

you ended up with denki, eijirou with katsuki, and sero with Mina

it was very comfortable, not super serious and you two probably giggled and joked around as you figured everything out, but it was a good first time. and everyone seemed to agree on their parts

after this, it was kind of free game. Just normal 'fuck when you wanna fuck'. for a while everyone (especially kiri and denki) went kinda on a sex rampage wanting to get to experience everyone fully

for a while it was mainly just duo or maybe threesomes, definitely some like orgy type situations where you're all fucking in the same room just separately, but you guys had to figure out how to approach doing smth with everyone

you probably tried those like train type positions where anyone who has a dick is in someone under them while someone is in their ass, and if you're afab you and Mina would take turns with a strap or maybe both use it sometimes

it takes a lot of experimenting to find comfortable positions and ways to go about it but you're all pretty dedicated to figure it out

but in general, expect TONS of head or like hand action because it's a lot easier to give attention to multiple people that way

[chouxsardine]

Hold Me (1)--- Jake Kiszka x reader

My fic for @seenoversundown 's Valentine's Day Writing Event! I choose the prompt: Play Truth or Dare

Summary: "hold me like you hold your Les Paul, have your way with me the way you play her.” || Your drunk slip-up leads to one of the best Valentine's Day gift you've ever got

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 3547

Warnings (for this part): 18+! Minors DNI, sexual implications, cursing, alcohol, dom Jake/sub reader, guitar kink, bondage, scissors, inappropriate use of guitar strap, pickle slander

Author's note: Remember I said here about a series of improper guitar use fantasy? Well, here's another one! This idea has been circling in my mind for the longest time. Happy Valentine's Day, Enjoy!

🎧: Dirty Little Religion by Warren Zevon

“Come on, y/n, you have to play by the rules. That’s only fair.”

“Oh gosh, please don’t,” you groaned, banging your forehead on the table, regretting every possible decision you have made in the last two hours.

It was a Friday night, Jake and you were throwing your very own drinking party at home. It started out with some innocent cocktails but has somehow soon turned into chugging down straight tequila. To add to the fun, you proposed an impromptu and very informal round Truth or Dare, which, looking back now, was a very bad idea. Yes, your original intention was to fish out some funny anecdotes from Jake, but woe is you—how the tables have turned. Now, you were the one facing the difficult choice between spilling your dirtiest fantasy or drinking a shot of pickle juice.

That dare was definitely devilish, and Jake was setting it up for you to fail. He knew you absolutely can’t stand pickle juice, especially when it’s that bottom-of-the-jar “essence”— evilly green and murky with all the loosened pulp and seeds floating around. Simply one look at it made you sick.

“Pick your poison, darling,” Jake said, making no effort to hide his smirk.

You tentatively reached for the shot glass but immediately gave in as its smell reached your nose. Why trouble yourself? You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t an arousing tingle inside. Simply the way Jake said the word ‘fantasy’ sounds sexy. Talking about the chokehold this man has on you. It was clear that you were fighting a losing battle. To choose something so ghastly over a little spice in the uncharted territory is just straight-up stupid. Plus, you may or may not have had a bit too much to drink. You felt positive that one simple sip of that pickle juice would make you throw up before the alcohol does.

Sensing the silence, Jake’s demeanour changed. He was more than tipsy, yes, but not to the point that it stops him from being attentive to your feelings and reactions. It was a cute, hot little thing he came up with on the spur of the moment that he thought would be fun. It wasn’t meant to put you on the spot. To make you uncomfortable and ruining the moment is the last thing he wanted.

“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t have—”

“I’ve always—”

You opened your mouth simultaneously.

Jake took one look at you and shut up immediately. Your cheeks are flushed, your half-lidded eyes were fixed on him with a familiar look. Your left knee that was previously stretched out was now bent against your chest. Oh.

“Go on.” He whispered.

Fuck it.

“I’ve always felt jealous of your guitar, you know that? Especially when you are away on tour. The way you play it on stage, making all those girls scream for you…And that one time you fucking kissed it to make the vibration like that?” You let out a humourless laugh as your eyes narrowed, “it drives me mad.” The way you accentuate “mad” blurs its meaning, and it makes Jake wonder.

“Mad, huh? Which kind? Mad as in crazy, or mad as in angry?”

The drinking game long forgotten now that it has changed into your worship of Jake. You ignored his question completely as you continue. The words coming out much easier and at a faster pace.

“Or the way you slap it, the way you hold its neck and rock it,” all the images and videos you’ve seen are alive in your mind, overlaying with the sight of Jake right before your eyes, “the way you make her whine and scream.”

Jake’s heart skips a bit at the change of pronoun.

“Did you ever get hard while doing that?” You set down the glass on the table, got down on your hands and knees, crawling towards Jake until you were by his feet. “I bet you did. How can you not?” Jake beckoned and you straddled his lap in one swift motion, holding his face. Your eyes were glassy, your pupils dilated. “That’s when I get so jealous and….and insecure.” Jake frowned at that last word. He never thought of that.

“That’s when I wish I was there, waiting for you backstage. I want to kiss you and tell you how amazing you look up there because you deserve it,” with that, you studied Jake’s face intensely through your droopy eyes before defeatedly dropping your head onto his shoulder, your words muffled and slurred,“hell, you have no idea what I want to do to you.”

“I will if you tell me,” Jake tempted.

You pulled back, staring down at him. You caressed his cheek, your fanned breath tickling the loose strands of hair that frame his face. To Jake, you feel like a warm dessert soaked in bourbon; you looked…delicious. It was the same kind of primal desire that shares the same origin with hunger, the wild biological needs fuming. All your shame and self-consciousness unraveled by the alcohol, coming off like a corset with its ribbons pulled.

“I want you to tie me up with your guitar strap,” your eyes closed at how good it felt finally having those words freed from your mind, “I want you to hold me like you hold your Les Paul, have your way with me the way you play her.”

Jake’s jaw hung open. Damn, alcohol does makes people open up. He was not expecting you to say that and was also not expecting himself finding it so incredibly hot. Practically, whiskey dick, but mentally, he was so hard. Before he could come up with a decent response, your head dropped down again, this time with a heavier thud, and he could feel your breathing change.

“Y/n?”

No response.

He was so glad you finished that last sentence before passing out.

That was some weeks ago and you only had vague memories of the night. You knew that you must have spilled some crazy shit because since then, on several occasions, you have caught Jake staring at you. Well, it’s not like he can keep his eyes off you very often, but you can tell this is different. He would have his thumb and index fingers rubbing his chin, looking deep in thought as if composing a riff, except that his eyes are on you, and there is a predatory smugness that keeps you at your feet.

“For fucks sake, Jake. You’re doing it again! Why are you glaring at me like that?” You have tried fishing it out of him more than once.

“Secret” and a wry smile were the answers you got every time.

Luckily, he didn’t keep you waiting for too long; it was only a few days later when you finally get to find out about it.

Neither Jake nor you are the type of people who would go overboard on Valentine’s Day. In the past, it has always been a cute dinner date followed by a night that is both sweet and spicy. You could tell Jake is up to something this time. He’s been dropping subtle (or so he thought) hints throughout the day.

Evening was fast approaching. You opted for staying in and cooking. Jake made an amazing chicken piccata. (He even used heart-shaped pasta!) Dinner was quick and delicious, Warren Zevon’s record was playing in the background as you did the dishes. A pair of arms wraps around your waist as you turn off the faucet. Jake’s curls tickle your skin. He is humming to the song, and it takes you a second to realize that he was humming along with the record to the lyrics of Dirty Little Religion.

“I have a gift for you, sweetheart.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, as if his intentions couldn’t be clearer. But who says you aren’t equally (or perhaps more) excited?

“Oh love, you’ve been so good to me all day, how could I ask more from you?” You sound innocent, as if completely unaware of the implications.

“M’not asking. I’m offering. My good girl deserves all my loving.” Jake replies slyly.

Jake calling you good girl will always make you knees go weak. You turn around in his embrace and willingly accept his affectionate kiss on the lips before pulling open the dishwasher. ‘Fine. I’ll just finish up here real quick, okay?”

“Of course, and when you do, come downstairs and find me.”

You quirk your eyebrows. “Downstairs, huh?” It looks like he does has some ideas.

“And you better hurry up, sugar.” He gives you a teasing smack on the butt before turning on his heels.

Downstairs means his studio. Your steps are a bit wobbly as you reach the bottom of the stairs and your fingers shiver as they come into contact with the cool metal of the doorknob. Calm down, y/n, you could be getting all riled up over nothing; knowing that couldn’t be further from the truth, your attempt to calm down sounds pathetic. Throughout your relationship with Jake, the last thing this man ever did was disappoint. And if your nose serves you right, you detect a faint smell of magnolia in the air—the scent that was only reserved for certain occasions. God, what has Jake been planning?

On a second thought, you retrieve your hand from the doorknob, choosing to gently knock three times. A gut feeling tells me that the man of the other side of the door would prefer some manners tonight.

“Come in.”

You push the door open. The room is warm and well-lit, looking the same as usual. Jake is sitting in his Corbusier-style leather chair in the corner, fingers steepling together.

“Hmmmm, a girl with courtesy I see. Very well.” Jake commends.

Bingo. You smile coyly. Your praise kink almost made you curtsy to him.

“Already so good, perhaps I have to find something else to reward you with on top of your gift,” Jake says thoughtfully as he approaches you and pulls you in for a kiss, “but first, my princess deserves to live out her fantasy.”

Fantasy? The way Jake says it gives the word a familiar twang that triggers something in your brain. Your mind is racing as it flips through memories from the past few weeks. Looking around you, most of Jake’s guitars are hanging on the wall instead of resting on the stand. A rather odd thing for him to do. And every guitar on the wall has the strap attached, hanging below them and casting snake-like shadows on the wall.

Then it kicks in. Memories of that Truth or Dare night rushes back to you. Your drunken words replay themselves in your mind, clear and loud: “I want you to tie me up with your guitar strap.”

“Oh, Jake, you didn’t—” Your hands fly up to cover your face in embarrassment.

“Oh, but I do,” Jake laughs, taking your hands in his and thumbing them in soothing circles, “no need to be shy, love. There’s nothing shameful about having desires; it’s a very human thing to do.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. I’m so happy that you feel comfortable enough to share it with me,” Jake smile reassuringly, “and I find it hot beyond words.”

Your eyes shot up at him upon hearing it, and Jake’s gaze tells you that he is being honest. Seeing that you’ve relaxed, Jake leads you to stand right in front of his guitar display, his hands resting steadily on your shoulders.

“I’ll let you take your pick, doll. Whichever one that has the honour to have caught your eyes.”

You take a deep breath, feeling like a child in a candy store. This is not the time to get overwhelmed. Your eyes first travel greedily between the guitars, linger over their smooth curves, then you divert to the straps. Jake’s signature ’61 Les Paul SG is standing tall and proud in the middle, paired with the most often seen thin leather strap in back. Moving further right is his SG Classic with the Pinegrove brown padded strap from earlier days, and there’s the black one with the broader shoulder pad which was once used to hold a double-neck but now used on his Coodercaster. You picture them laying over Jake’s shoulder, the way they strain and slacken with his movement, the umbilical cord between his body and his creation. You also imagine the what they would look and feel when wrapped around your waist. The slightly nervous you is inching towards the brown strap—it looks so comforting with its suede texture and its wrinkled surface, and its also wider, therefore leaning towards a cuff rather than a rope when tied; however, the bolder voice obviously prefers the black one—classy, timeless, direct and succinct like a command. It’s thinner, so it might cut into your skin if you are squirming too much (which you definitely will), but isn’t that what you are after? Isn’t that the gist—pleasure mixed with pain?

Jake is being unexpectedly patient, giving you all the time you need to take it in as he resumes his previous position in the chair, admiring your predicament from afar.

“I want that one.” You blurt out finally, pointing at his black strap.

The look on Jake’s face made you suspect that he has known what you’d choose all along.

“Nice choice.” Jake comments, stepping forward to remove the strap from the guitar. You know it’s most likely in your head, but the strap looks different the second that it was detached from the instrument; now wrapped around Jake’s palm, it looks more powerful, it looks like it is determined to serve its intended purpose well for tonight.

“Now go upstairs.”

This time, the command is brusque.

Oh, so the studio is not the final destination. You feel like being on a scavenger’s hunt, following all the clues and getting more snd more excited and impatient by the second. You can’t tell if you are disappointed or relieved that you are not doing…well, whatever Jake intends to do with you…in his studio.

You hands are already touching the door when you heard him again:

“While you are up there, princess, do yourself a favour and strip down to your bra and panties.”

You gasp, but chose not to turn around.

“Yes,” you murmur just loudly enough for him to hear you, “Sir.”

Upstair in your shared bedroom, you do not know how to position your body. You are naked except for your underwear, but the room still seems too hot. You tried laying in bed in a sultry pose—too pretentious, for fuck’s sake, you’ re not shooting porn. You sat down but you kept hugging your knees to yourself—you don’t want Jake to mistake that as reluctance. You are just a bit jittery. God knows how long you’ve been fantasizing this. You tried sitting on the ottoman, but the leather kept sticking to your bum, and it wouldn’t take long before you start sweating and leaving a shame-filled imprint on the seat. You’ve always wanted this, and it’s Jake, there’s nothing to be nervous about, just do what feels best.

Alright, alright.

Following the voice in your heart, you find yourself dropping down to your knees, kneeling on the plush beige rug by the bed. You have your back against the bedroom door. You know it would be impossible for you not to look at Jake’s reaction the moment he see you in this pose, but you are also not sure if you are ready to take that reaction. To you, for now, kneeling feels the most right. For you and Jake, the dom/sub thing in bed is never explicit. Sure, he enjoys you calling him Daddy from time to time and you definitely have got him all whiny and teary for more than once, but this would be the first time that you will be trying restraints. You guess you have always had this fantasy—there’s just something about Jake and his guitar that makes your knees buckle. You are secretly thankful for your drunk slip-up, because you are not sure if you will have the courage to stare into his eyes and say those words sober, even though you know that Jake would never judge you.

The sound of the door opening interrupts your thought. The room is so quiet that you can hear a pin drop, and you are holding your breath. Therefore, even without looking, you are positive that Jake hitches his breath when he sees you. You regret a little for facing away from him. Now you want to see his expression.

“Don’t move.” As if reading your mind, Jake orders. You straighten your back. Jake approaches until he is standing right behind you.

“What a good girl.”

Something touches you. You quickly realize Jake is using the bended strap to trace random patterns on your back. You feel the looped end of the strap at your cervical spine before it circles around your scapula, from where it travels down along your spine all the way to your hipbone, dipping a little into the elastic band of your panties. Jake watches the involuntary contraction of your muscles as they react to the touch, feeling satisfied as he sees the fine hairs on the back of your neck slightly perk up.

You just breathed a sigh of relief when you feel the smooth leather again, this time reaching in front and tracing your clavicle. It stops at the little indentation between the bones, right beneath your throat and inches upwards to your chin, tilt it upward, then finding leverage on the left side of your jaw, Using it to turn your head back.

You run straightforward into Jake’s eyes, which are now the colour of melted chocolate. The dark, mesmerizing, 80% cocoa type.

Your pouty lips and puppy eyes are silently begging him for a kiss. Jake indulges, catching your bottom lip between his teeth slightly as his pulls away.

“Already tasting so sweet, angel.”

Aside from the praise, the tenderness in his tone is unvarnished. This is the voice he uses whenever he checks up on you. This is a sign that you are about to have the talk—the sweet conversation with a fraction of awkwardness before you two try out anything new that gives consent and sets up rules and boundaries.

“I…I really want this.” You pre-empt.

“That’s good to hear,” Jake chuckles. Now he has came around, sitting face to face with you. What looks like a wash bag laying beside his knees. What? He has gone and got a bag for this? You wonder what the hell he has got in there.

“I know it’s been a minute, but do you still remember our safe word?”

“Yes. It’s ‘soundcheck’.” You answer, peeling your eyes away from the bag. The safe word was something you two has settled early on in your relationship. Neither of you has been in a position that requires the use of it, but the simple fact that such a word exists and you are comfortable using it when the situations calls for is reassurance for both sides.

“Good. Use it if you need to. Since we are trying something new today, I suggest we add on to it a bit more,” Jake holds your gaze steadily as you nod, “we are going with colours. Green means all good and continue; yellow means pause, say it if you feel like it’s too much, we will take a break, check in, work things out, and you decide if you want to keep going; red is the big ‘no-no’, say it and everything, I mean everything, stops immediately, no question asked. Copy?”

“Yes, green to go, yellow to pause, and red to stop.” You repeat it back, knowing Jake always requires a clear response at this point. This is starting to sound like those naughty romance novels, although you have a secret feeling that what you’re about to experience is going to be so much better.

“Clever girl,” Jake unzips the bag and takes out a pair of scissors, showing them to you, “these are safety shears. I feel like they’re necessary if I am tying you up today. They are medical grade and they cut through everything. Whatever the reason you need out of the restraints, they get you the quick release. ”

He places the scissors in your hands. You hold on to it, finding its curved blade and matte handle consoling. “Now listen up, if it comes to that,” Jake speaks slowly, his index finger tapping your naked skin with each accentuated word, “I will cut the strap. I don’t care how long I’ve had it or how much it costs. They are nothing compared to your safety. Do you hear me, love?”

“Yes. Yes, I understand.” You heart melts at how serious he is taking this. You knew he must’ve done his research. The colour system and all. “Thank you, Jake.”

“No need to thank me for keeping you safe, doll,” Jake squeezes your hand gently, “now, are we ready?”

Part 2 out now

Yeah! you made it! Thank you SO MUCH for reading :))

any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated. I've never done a taglist before....does anyone want to be tagged for part 2?

my other works: Permission to Fall | Mariner's Complex | Ticked (all my boxes) | Love is a four-legged word | The Lucky Ones | Coming back to me | Warm Honey | He Would

[neverpathia]

*drop these and runs away*

2. (Explore) If you have a least favorite Chapter, then how would you go about changing it?

12. (Explore) What's your favorite Voices dynamic?

25. (Explore) What’s a moment in the game that emotionally destroyed you?

nevvey has a PhD in yappanese so this came out too long, oops

2. least favourite chapter

huh. well I know everyone's been answering the greys for this, and I don't wanna be another member of that echo chamber, but honestly I'm kinda struggling to think of my least favourite right about now. the ones that are great are great, and the ones that aren't as great. uh. they're more or less on the same tier if I'm gonna be frank

fine. I'll cave. it's drowned grey. haven't seen her route yet but in all fairness I don't feel like it, not too interested, already know what happens, and am scared of being scared. with burned grey, at least I can respect the themes at play. the extremes of blind devotion playing into callousness. the crossing of boundaries that one has claimed to demolish. violence to fix violence met with violence. hurt intended to cure hurt.

there's at least more of an emotional reaction there, but with prisoner? you're less obligated to feel something for her, I guess. I'm not saying you're not a fucking traitorous scumbag if you slay pris, but I'm just saying that she provokes less pity and sadness than slaying the damsel. drowned grey to me comes off as pure spook factor imo. it's a tale of vengeance, that's it. there isn't as much to explore there.

drowned grey works as a route but it's not as complex as I would like it to be. and that's fine for the game. it works. but it's just kind of there. I wouldn't know how to fix it because the course of events still makes sense, but it's just. underwhelming. I wouldn't do anything about it but only because I have no idea how.

12. favourite voice dynamic

OH COME ON. YOU FUCKING EXPECT ME TO CHOOSE?????

so it keeps teetering between parahero and smittunist but in the end I've just been writing those things out in my head and the majority of how i perceive it is all fanon. it doesn't matter. nix. nada. nothing.

if we're going to talk about in the actual canon...probably still smittunist. it's hilarious how they interact in thorn. oppy being the same bootlicker as always, and smitten just mindlessly swinging behind GASP HOW DARE YOU and OH YOU ARE SO RIGHT FOR REAL, is just kind of golden. but at the same time it's sweet how smitten makes up for oppy's faults here. and at the same time as much as they contrast and you can still tell that oppy hasn't really changed too much but there's still something there and it's still so unresolved but they still manage to put aside their differences and stuff- plus. funny dialogue. it's gold. it's just gold

but at the same time I recently did den, and I think hunted and skeptic's a bit of an underrated dynamic. there's an inherent trust that's obviously there between most of the voices already, but it's especially highlighted with skeptic's plan and stuff. i can kinda hear them as a grizzled old man and the scruffy little creature he picked up on the side of the road and decided to adopt. he taught him that plans matter, yay. he saw him make his first friend (den in rescue), yay. it's adorable.

but then we also have hero and paranoid giving broken a reality check in apotheosis and like. paranoid losing his mind. broken having lost his mind in the other direction. a confused hero being the only sane man. them powering through together as a team anyway. the two gay uncles and the depressed nephew they got stuck with babysitting. I can't-

[rams my fist straight into the wall and splinters all of my phalanges and releases an uncouth yelp worthy of a soprano] I CANNOT. DON'T ASK ME TO CHOOSE.

25. worst trauma

look. all the pristine cut stuff so far was absolutely devastating, and I am specifically laser-focusing on Happily Ever After with that comment.

but the moment that fucking punched me in the gut and had me doubling over was probably, thorn. yeah because she's my wife and we're married and I can't bear to see her hurt and she's reading this over my shoulder right now and she's beautiful and she's resplendent and

specifically, when you descend down the charred remains of the cabin. you hear just how resigned she is. just how tired everything has made her. and you just look, and see how badly she's been wounded. how she's been hurt. all these raw bleeding cuts and scrapes and scratches and scabs. it's so clear how vulnerable she is, and she's truly ashamed. this is what she's done. this is who she is now. this is what she believes she deserves.

and then all the dialogue options that show how much you don't want to forgive her. just as she wasn't able to forgive herself, as much as she's punished herself instead. like. like MY POOR FUCKING GIRL.

and another one for when her grip on the blade tightens... the lingering spite. the remnants of fear. the urge to distrust. she's leaving behind everything she thought she was and it's utterly ASSRRRGGGHH love you thorn.

[kagiura-akira]

I read this shirashiro series this morning— Bros to lovers saga —and it was a beautiful 16k of two best friends pining for each other and the end kept me thinking and needing more from an established relationship angle so here's... A thing. Idk what to call it. Rambling about shirashiro from the point of view of the end of the second fic in the linked series (read: they've just confessed on the school rooftop after being awkward for like a whole fucking month and they had their first and second kisses up there)

(T rated bc horny teenagers will be what they are, but I don't feel obligated to write more than this)

So I had to ask myself, how do these two handle going from friends to lovers?

I like to think that Shirahama radically accepts it for what it is without thinking too hard about it. He doesn't like doing that. Like at first he refuses to think about why he's into his best friend who's a guy. He can have his sexuality crisis later. He just knows that Tashiro is cute and attractive and funny and...

Ok, we get the point.

So Tashiro and Shirahama have gotten together now? They're dating. What an odd thing to say, but Shirahama is happy that it means he can be with Tashiro as much as he likes. Or as much as Tashiro likes. Which is a whole fucking lot.

Shirahama: where did you learn how to kiss like that?

Tashiro: like what?

Shirahama: like you're ready to eat me alive

Tashiro: I was just doing what felt right

Shirahama: Exactly how long have you been considering eating my face because that felt like a lot more than a month’s worth of being pent up

Tashiro doesn't respond because he can't help but feel like he's being picked on

Shirahama: it's kind of hot

Tashiro blushes from the tippy tops of his shoulders to the top of his head

Tashiro: shut up

Shirahama: absolutely not

Tashiro:

Shirahama: can I come over? Wanna play Tekken 7

Tashiro: why not 8?

Shirahama: don't have it yet

Tashiro: then buy it? It's been out for ages

Shirahama: can't afford it.

Tashiro: ....

Shirahama: I'll be there in five

Tashiro waits for about ten minutes before he starts blowing up Shirahama's phone

Tashiro: did you mean five minutes or five hours??? JFC hurry up

Shirahama: aww is Gon-chan feeling needy? 😘 had to take the dog out sorry

Tashiro and Shirahama sit on the couch once he gets there and Tashiro sits on his left, leaning back against his shoulder, and Shirahama slips his arm around his waist to yank him in closer as he takes his controller with both hands, forming a loop around Tashiro's waist. Tashiro reclines his feet and lies back into him a little bit more.

Shirahama's eyebrows pinch together in frustration. This little shit sitting in his arms is whooping his ass in this match, and nothing he does can give him an edge. Tashiro is talking shit too, and Shirahama has reached his tolerance limit. He grips Tashiro tighter and bites his ear to make Tashiro falter. The smaller boy yelps with a slight jump and fumbles with his controller. Tashiro whines and says it's cheating. Shirahama smiles slyly and only says, "All is fair in love and war"

Tashiro pauses the game, glares at him, then tackles him to the couch to bite him back and not in a sexy way, at least he didn't intend to. His intentions were purely violent with no ulterior motive. But then Shirahama groans and Tashiro decides he needs to hear that again. And that's how Tashiro ends up on top of Shirahama, biting, licking, sucking on his earlobes, his jaw, his neck.

Hands wander and Shirahama finds his way into the back of Tashiro's uniform shirt, sliding up his sides and unintentionally tickling him. It's confusing how Shirahama could have such calloused hands but still they feel and smooth against his skin.

Tashiro is too busy marking up Shirahama's neck. As much as Shirahama enjoys it, he would rather be able to see him, so Shirahama brings his hands to Tashiro's face to yank him up to look at him.

“Kiss me.”

“Kyouji...”

He loves it when he says his name like that, but... He wants him to kiss him more. Like he did before. Like he's hungry and he finally is taking what he wants. Because he doesn't do that enough. Tashiro isn't greedy in the slightest—always doing what other people want but never taking anything he wants for himself.

Shirahama wishes he would.

He links their fingers with his one hand and the other comes up to run his fingers through Tashiro's long hair.

They fall off the couch after getting a little too lost in each other.

They laugh it off and notice their game is still paused, but they want each other more than they care about the game. Everything is new and they're infatuated with the physicality of their relationship. Where touches mean something more (not different, just MORE) and there are a lot of new feelings and perks that come with being boyfriends. An old comfort and a new spark. Shirahama likes to play with Tashiro's hair a lot. Tashiro feels like he's being treated like a dog at first but the petting grows on him and he tends to nuzzle himself into Shirahama's hand eventually like he's trained him.

Then there's the comfort of Shirahama's steady heartbeat. Tashiro could lay here and listen to it forever because it's almost hypnotic.

Shirahama asks him why he's so quiet.

“I'm listening to your heart”

“Yeah? And what's it telling you?”

Tashiro closes his eyes as he snuggles into his hold, grasping handfuls of his soft sweater. “That it's mine.”

“Mn.” Shirahama kisses the top of his head and they fall asleep like that together. On the floor. Shirahama's back feels like he's 80 years old after that but Tashiro feels fine thanks to his nice body pillow boyfriend

[vashsmunch]

I'll be here.

Vash x GN! Reader

Synopsis: you're spiralling, and someone comes to help

Warnings: mentions of self-destructive thoughts, allude to suicidal ideations

A/N: third one i've made of these self-indulgent comfort shit LMAO, but don't judge me.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───  

Suffocating. Stifling. Drowning. 

Your hand flexed, fingers curling in on themselves to try and distract from the feeling of your chest concaving. 

In and out. In and out. 

Rhymathtically and almost robotically, in hopes that it would quell the darkness approaching you. Everything it touched withered away like death itself had grazed them with its bony claws. It was terrifying, at least it should've been. You couldn't help but feel like, at this moment, "death" wouldn't be so bad after all. A graceful ending to the turbulent turmoil that was the hell you were living in. Even purgatory would've been more desirable. 

God, it hurt. It was the type of pain that settled deep into the crevices of your soul, the kind that lay in wait for the day you just gave up. It's a quiet predator, one that doesn't care how long it takes. Patient, deadly, and counting the seconds until your eventual demise. You couldn't even find it in yourself to give a single fuck. 

There comes a point where the pain, the agony, just becomes routine. It becomes as regular as waking up to scroll on your phone, as simple as brushing your teeth. It doesn't hurt as badly as it did before, but you can't help but feel that you'll die with it clutching on for dear life. Maybe you deserved this. Things like this only happen to bad people, right? What are you, if not the most horrible person to ever exist, if this is the kind of pain you were experiencing? 

"Hey... Hello?"

Suddenly, you couldn't breathe. The darkness was closing in, and it was draining every single breath of air out of your lungs. Tears started to build up in your eyes and stream down your cheeks as you shook in fear. It wasn't fair. You were just trying your best. Why does this happen? Why does this always happen? Was your best not good enough? How much longer would you be forced to cycle through this barbaric game the universe decided to play with you?

"Look at me... Please look at me."

You shut your eyes and let out quiet sobs as you felt a shadow overtake your body. It was getting tougher for you to tell what was real, and you couldn't even feel the sharp sting of pain from digging your nails into the flesh of your palm. 

Someone... please. Save me. I can't... I can't keep doing this. It hurts. This hurts.

PLEASE. SOMEONE PLEASE.

A calloused hand wraps around yours, squeezing gently. An instant burst of heat radiates throughout your arm, warming every cold crack that had been seared into the skin.

"Hey."

You look up to see cerulean irises boring into yours, accompanied by a tense expression on the person's face. 

Vash.

The two of you stared at each other as the salty streams continued to pour down your face. You couldn't be bothered to wipe them, to hell with your decency. It was funny, though, with him, you never felt the need to be anything more. Maybe that was a bit selfish because, with you, he was nothing short of perfect. A bumbling idiot who always did his best to comfort you even when his own demons were clawing at his back. But who was the idiot now? The one who said nothing as he took you into his arms, or the one who clutched at his jacket, crying until there was nothing left? You felt him rub your back as he whispered into your ear, and you couldn't even decipher the words. It just felt so good. 

There weren't any words exchanged for a while; whether it was minutes or hours, you couldn't tell. Vash silently picked you up to cradle you in his lap, nuzzling his head into your neck. Slowly, the darkness started to fade away and unsink its claws from the flesh of your shaking body. He seemed to get impossibly closer as you melted into his touch, just craving some feeling of stability. How you wished you could have this all the time, just this comfortable silence. 

"I love you."

You didn't flinch, and one would think you hadn't heard him if it weren't for the way you held him tighter. Because with him, it was never too much or too over the top. Everything always felt right, and that's something you'd treasure for as long as you could. It was Vash the Stampede, after all.

"I love you too."

[meanbossart]

Massive ask compilation time OH LORD

YES, her journals are a fun read. I somewhat wish there was more to her and The Dark Urge's interactions, too - she's wonderfully evil and clearly very attached to you if you're playing as that character, but I had hoped there was more of a reason for her obsession besides just "you were fun to cut up", haha. I remember reading her journal over a couple of times looking for something I might have missed.

His reaction was pretty in line with the Narrator's cues, just immediate rage over what she had done to him - DU Drow may be a masochist but that's reserved for people he cares about! So, her and her posse met a swift end. Also, despite the fact that the whole tadpole thing turned out being for the best, I think he's easily overtaken by resentment over his lost glory-days whenever faced with it so directly (he misses living in obliviousness) - not to mention his profound fear of vulnerability, and of feeling... Small. The way Kressa spoke to and of him would have absolutely shook him to his core, especially by doing so in front of the others.

[MORE UNDER CUT]

THANK YOU so much for your kind words first of all! As for the question, it depends a bit on the timeline; his dislike of female drow, especially at the start of his tadpole'd journey is pretty irrational and faith status wouldn't be of too much relevance, he just thinks It's in their nature to want to put him down and be conniving, and wants nothing to do with them.

Later, and especially post-game, he might at least give them a chance to prove they aren't "like other drow", though it would take him a lot to ever let his guard down entirely - UNLESS you seem like a complete fool LOL he's actually easy to trick into dismissing you as long as you don't mind playing the role of a dumb idiot.

But if not, he'd have an extremely short patience for any attempts to exert authority over him or his actions - or jokes at his expense, or any level of smugness or secrecy. Nymea would definitely feel kept at arms length because of the gender+race combo alone and have to put up with a lot of snideness. Basically, she'd have to treat this 6'4" feet tall freak with kids gloves to ever develop a rapport LOL

But also... The vampirism may "help"? He'd consider her a "lesser drow" for it. In that regard her attitudes toward Astarion would probably come to be relevant. I'm not sure about that aspect of it to be honest!

First of all, this is a hysterical scenario because he Would just fucking put the ring on without thinking about it LOL so thank you for the laugh that mental image just provided me with.

Oh he wouldn't care though. I mean, he dislikes drow in general, but he is a drow (up for debate, but you know, generally speaking) and he thinks he's pretty great. As long as he's still huge and strong he could wake up a woman tomorrow and not give a damn. And, frankly, his dick could turn into a pussy at any point in time and it wouldn't change anything about his character save for having to add a recurring UTI problem to his character sheet - he'd probably have fun with it.

TOTALLY FAIR, I'm very sorry it went past the point of enjoyment for you, but I'm glad you knew when to put it down!!! We're in our hand-holding and elf-smooching era now with the occasional visceral description of violence LOL SO YOU'RE WELCOME IN IF YOU'D LIKE. Thank you for dropping by!

Just putting this here because - I actually haven't decided yet, so that's pretty funny you asked LOL I'm leaning eyes closed though, nothing like a smooch to calm the big weirdo down.

HAHAHAH WELCOME BACK, I've been around this whole time! But I was hanging out on twitter for the most part. HOPE YOU'RE INTO THE DND STUFF LOL

DROW DURGES RISE UP I'll be honest with you friend, DU drow's lore has been as accidental as something like that can be, so much of it has felt completely organic in the way it came up - I guess that's what good RPG does to your brain. The rest of it has just been a wonderful opportunity to develop my writing that I decided to take full advantage of this year. Thank you so much for the lovely message!

---

Aaaaand I can barely muster something to say that feels like an appropriate response, but again I wanted to acknowledge all the sweet compliments people take the time to leave in my inbox. Some of you guys' comments about the things I create blow me away, I think I'm pretty confident in my art but... Damn, makes me so happy to know the stuff I create can hold a little special place to some folks. Thank you all so, so much for taking time out of your day to spread a little kindness around, and make mine a little better.

Again, thank you all for humoring me, have a lovely day folks!

[tooneys-russo]

You Decided For Us

Plot: Riley and Alessia have a messy history. Now that Alessia is back in the UK can they work out their issues?

Previous Parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Chapter 3

As Christmas got closer Riley and Hayley got closer too, they weren’t official by any stretch of the imagination but they were having fun together. Hayley headed back to Australia over Christmas, promising to come back just after New Years, they were facetiming most days just catching up. Riley loved having someone who cared about her and wanted her to be happy as well as making her feel special. Riley headed down to the local field and saw Alessia there, she stopped and contemplated leaving just to avoid having to speak to the blonde. “I can feel you staring. The field is big enough for both of us I think.” Alessia called out as she lined up another ball in front of goal. “Oh, thanks Alessia.” Riley set up some running drills at the other end of the field. Alessia tried her best not to glance over at the girl, both of them in their team kits, she had to admit Riley looked phenomenal in her Arsenal training kit. Alessia did a few laps so she would be able to get as close to Riley as she could without it being obvious. Riley kept looking at Alessia as she ran laps with the ball at her feet. 

Alessia stopped running close to Riley, their eyes locked as Alessia began to walk over. “You going to kill me if we talk?” Riley shook her head. “No. Wanting to kill you has already cost me a game. I made a voodoo doll instead.” Alessia laughed softly and Riley smiled. “I wondered why my chest hurt so much, you must be putting pins in it.” Riley rolled her eyes. “Usually I just aim for your legs. They piss me off the most.” Alessia looked at her confused. “Alessia you are a striker, unless you are on my team I don’t want those long legs scoring goals.” Alessia nodded in realisation. “That is fair enough then. How have you been? Saw you and Raso are getting close, not really your usual type is she?” Alessia played with the ball at her feet. “Not my type? What is my type Alessia?” The blonde shrugged. “Usually blonde hair, blue eyes, around 5 foot 9 inches and someone your age.” Riley laughed. “You think she’s too old for me? She is kind and funny, she makes me happy, Alessia and that is my type.” Riley sighed. “Alessia, we were having a good conversation.” Alessia clenched her jaw. “I saw you at Winter Wonderland. I saw you with her and I can’t just stand here and pretend I am happy for you. I don’t want anyone else being with you.” Riley grabbed her ball. “Alessia, I can't do this again.” 

She began walking to her car and Alessia followed her, Riley leant up against her car and Alessia stood close to her looking into her eyes. “Tell me. Tell me you don’t want me. That you don’t feel anything for me and I will leave you alone. Tell me that you don’t think about us.” Alessia put her hands on either side of Riley’s head, the brunette looked up at the blonde. “Alessia…I…” Alessia leant in and kissed Riley deeply, Riley kissed back and grabbed onto the front of Alessia’s training shirt. Alessia put her hands on Riley’s hips as she deepened the kiss, Riley moaned against her mouth then pushed her back. “Fuck.” She said breathlessly. “Alessia, I am seeing Hayley.” Alessia clenched her jaw. “But…” Riley had tears in her eyes as she kissed Alessia’s cheek and began to walk away. Alessia grabbed Riley and pressed her against the car again. “You aren’t official yet. I know that for certain.�� Riley gripped onto Alessia’s shirt again and sighed. “You asked Lotte.” Alessia nodded and kissed Riley again, the brunette kissed back and wrapped her arms around Alessia’s neck. The striker’s hands slid up the back of Riley’s shirt feeling her hot skin. Riley knew what she was doing was wrong but it felt phenomenal, having Alessia against her body and her hands raking across her skin it was overwhelming. Alessia moved her mouth to Riley’s neck making the shorter girl moan out and press herself more against Alessia. “Oh god Less.” The nickname rolled off Riley’s tongue made Alessia’s knees weak, she hadn’t heard that name from Riley’s mouth since they were together. Riley pushed Alessia away gently. “Did I do something wrong?” Alessia looked so vulnerable at that moment. Riley grabbed Alessia’s hand. “You were good, great. I just can’t do this to Hayley.” Alessia played with Riley’s fingers. “Then dump her.” She mumbled and Riley leant her head back against her car. “Can we just be friends? I want to try this with Hayley.” Alessia dropped Riley’s hand and nodded. “Yeah fine. Have fun with her, I am not backing off though. Also our families are doing Christmas together, which means we have to play happy families. I will be sitting next to you and again I will not be giving up.” Alessia looked at Riley’s lips and the shorter girl drew in a breath making Alessia smirk. “See you in a couple days Riley.” Alessia got close to kissing Riley again, the midfielder swallowing hard waiting for the familiar lips but nothing came. She groaned as Alessia pulled away, she got into her car and tried to catch her breath. 

Riley got to her family’s home on Christmas Eve nice and early to prepare herself. Alessia wore a smirk the whole drive to Riley’s family home, she was meeting her parents there as she wanted to get there a little early. She knocked on the door and Michelle, Riley’s mother, opened the door. “Oh my goodness Alessia Russo! Look at you!” Alessia Michelle tightly and handed her flowers and wine. “Hi Mrs. Griffin it is so good to see you.” She handed the wine and flowers to Michelle. “Please call me Michelle, Riley is upstairs in her old room, you know where it is.” Alessia smiled and headed upstairs to the second door on the right.

She opened the door and saw the brunette laying back on her bed looking through her phone. “You aren’t a very good host, you didn’t seem to welcome your guest.” Riley sat up to the familiar voice and locked eyes with Alessia. “You’re in my room.” She got up quickly and stood by her bed awkwardly. “Great observation Riley. You have a chat with your little girlfriend for Christmas Eve?” Alessia began to step closer to Riley. “She isn’t my girlfriend…yet.” Alessia sighed and put her hands on Riley’s hips. “Why isn’t she locking you down yet? I know if I was her we would be very exclusive, no questions about what we were.” Riley looked up at the blue eyes she missed so much. Alessia dipped her head and kissed Riley, the brunette kissed her back deeply, wrapping her arms around her neck. Alessia lifted Riley up and laid her down on her bed easily, their tongues connecting in a familiar and welcoming kiss. Alessia pressed her body on top of Riley, her mouth attaching to the brunette’s neck making her moan out. “Oh Alessia fuck.” Her hips bucked needing more of the blonde striker, Alessia moved her leg, pressing her thigh against Riley’s covered centre. Riley dug her nails into Alessia’s back making the striker moan and connect their lips again. 

The two pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes, Alessia silently asking for permission to go further. Riley took off her button up shirt and threw it on the floor, Alessia mirrored her actions taking off her leather jacket and tank top. Alessia ran her fingers down Riley’s chest down to her pants, Riley bit her lip and looked up at Alessia. “Can’t get you too naked princess, cause we might get caught.” Riley nodded and pulled Alessia back down on top of her. She felt like she was 17 again with Alessia’s familiar perfume lingering in the air and moans filling her room. The two were so caught up in themselves they didn’t hear the door open. “Hey Riley mum told me-holy fuck!” Riley pushed the blonde off her, Alessia landing on the ground. Riley’s brother Thomas rushed out of the door and slammed the door. Alessia looked up at Riley who covered her face. “Shit.” Alessia stood up and grabbed her shirt. “Well that was certainly not expected.” Riley threw a pillow at Alessia who had a small smirk. “Glad to know that you are strong enough to toss me off you.” She leant over and kissed Riley deeply as she handed her the discarded shirt. 

The two got dressed and headed downstairs, the Russos were downstairs, Giorgio, Luca and Riley’s brother Thomas all had knowing smirks on their lips. “You two have fun catching up?” Giorgio asked and Alessia smirked. “Yeah, just like old times.” Riley was bright red at the comments.

They all sat down and began catching up, Alessia put her hand on Riley’s thigh moving it up and down slowly. Riley struggled to stay engaged with the conversation under Alessia’s touch. The parents went into the living room putting on some carols and catching up. Alessia pulled Riley into the hallway getting looks from their brothers. Alessia kissed Riley deeply and Riley pushed her back. “Less, you are really risking us getting caught.” Alessia grabbed Riley’s hips. “Baby come on, we won’t get caught again. I will be careful.” Riley rolled her eyes and pulled Alessia close and kissed her deeply. “Do you think I could maybe sleep over?” Alessia looked into Riley’s eyes. “You know exactly what will happen if you stay over.” Riley sighed and tugged at Alessia’s shirt. “Yeah I know, I can try to keep my hands to myself. I just want to catch up tonight, show you that I want this.” Alessia put her forehead against Riley’s. “I want you Riley Griffin.” Riley sighed and pecked Alessia’s lips. “I just need to think about it all.” Alessia groaned. “Distance can’t be the issue, Raso plays for fucking Manchester City.” Riley put her hand on Alessia’s chest. “No distance isn’t the issue, it is everything. If I was to give you my heart again and it didn’t work I don’t know if I could handle it.” Alessia kissed Riley’s hand. “I know. I won’t hurt you again.” Alessia and Riley’s lips connected gently. 

During the night as the two families reconnected, Riley and Alessia stayed close to each other throughout the night. As soon as the Russos left Alessia practically dragged Riley upstairs. “What am I wearing to bed?” Alessia went to Riley’s chest of drawers and began looking through her clothes, she grabbed out a white t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Riley grabbed her Christmas pyjamas and Alessia smiled wide. “Well now that is the cutest thing I have ever seen.” Riley rolled her eyes and laid down in her bed and turned on the tv. Alessia laid next to her and immediately kissed her lips gently. They put on a movie and Riley cuddled into Alessia, everything was going well up until Alessia’s curiosity got the best of her. “How many people have you been with since me?” Riley looked up at the blonde. “You want my body count?” Alessia shrugged. “Just curious, I know I can’t be mad but I just want to know. Have you had sex with Hayley?” Riley sat up. “Alessia what the fuck? Are you serious right now?” Alessia sat up staring at Riley. “I am very serious. I hate the idea of someone else touching you.” Riley laid back and covered her face. “Alessia, this jealous girlfriend shit isn’t hot. You have no claim over me! I do not belong to you!” Riley got out of the bed and stood by the window. “Maybe you should just go to your parent’s place.” Alessia got up and changed back into her clothes. “I’m sorry Riley.” Riley turned to Alessia. “How many people did you sleep with at UNC?” Alessia thought for a minute. “A few” Riley scoffed. “A few? What’s that three, five, ten?” Alessia looked down. “Um a few.” Riley clenched her jaw. “I slept with someone six months after we split.” Alessia leant against the wall. “I tried to get over you. Who did you sleep with?” Riley glared at Alessia. “I slept with Jess Carter, Erin Cuthbert, Simone Magill, Alisha -” Alessia stepped closer to Riley. “Alisha Lehmann? What the fuck Riley?! When? What about Hayley?” Riley glared at Alessia. “Get out. You honestly almost had me today. I have fucked Alisha, about six months ago, and yes Hayley and I have slept together. Happy now? Now you can get out I don’t want to fucking see you again. You are a head fuck.” Riley pushed past Alessia and opened her door, Alessia stormed out of Riley’s bedroom and slammed the front door. 

Once football was back Riley spent her time focusing on getting back into the team, the first game of the new year was coming up and she was suspended. The team was playing away to Everton, she went to the hotel with them the day before, which worked out perfectly because she was able to go and watch Hayley play for Manchester City. She was wearing a City shirt with Raso’s name and number on the back. They were playing against Chelsea and it was close the whole time. Hayley was a fantastic player to watch, she was physical in the best kind of way. Alessia saw the broadcast which kept cutting to Riley, and her celebrating when Hayley scored the winning goal in the 80th minute. Alessia turned off her phone and began getting ready for her game. They were playing Aston Villa and Alessia knew that she would be able to take out Alisha during the game. 

Riley met up with Hayley after the game, they shared a kiss and they both posted on Instagram about the game. Hayley was going to go to the Everton and Arsenal game wearing Riley’s shirt even if she wasn’t playing. They sat in a pub with some of the other players from both Manchester City and Arsenal watching the United game. Alessia looked ready for a fight during the game, during a corner she went straight to Alisha and bumped her in the back. “Jesus Russo calm down.” Alisha snapped. “Shut up. Riley told me that you guys slept together.” Alessia bumped her again. “Oh this is about Griffin. Well just so you know Russo she was phenomenal and sounded amazing in bed.” Ella caught onto what was said and stood in between the two. “Less walk away right now. Take back post, I will take her.” She pushed Alessia back ready for the corner to come in. Alessia put in a hard tackle on Alisha, she luckily got the ball first but ensured that Alisha hit the deck from the force of the tackle. In the second half Alessia was able to break away from her defender and scored a gorgeous top corner goal from just outside the box. She made sure she ran up to Alisha and celebrated near her. Alisha bit back at Alessia. “You jealous she doesn’t want you Russo but begged for me?” Ella pushed Alisha back. “Fuck off! She had Riley way before you did! She could have her whenever she wanted!” Ella pulled Alessia back to their half, at the end of the game Alessia avoided Alisha not shaking her hand. 

Alessia got player of the match, she went to the media room for her interview. “Congratulations Alessia on being the player of the match, you had a great game and was able to score that winning goal. We did see that you and Alisha Lehmann had a few words to each other during that game, is that just normal player up against player or is there something else?” Alessia shrugged. “Nah just some in-game stuff, happy to get the win and it is sometimes nice to remind those who play against you that you can take them on. But everything is all good with Alisha, she’s a class player.” She went back to the changerooms and Ella stared at her. “Care to explain what is going on with you and Riley?” Alessia sighed and sat at her locker, she gave her a rundown of everything that happened at the field, then at Christmas. “You asked who she slept with? What the hell Alessia! Are you dumb? I know for a fact that you slept around while you were at college, she did the same which you were both entitled to do! You are an idiot and you are the one who pushed her straight to Hayley.” Ella stood up and went to have a shower. Alessia threw her boots on the ground and groaned in her hands as she thought about how she had Riley back but she screwed it up again. 

The following day Riley and Hayley went to the Everton v Arsenal game, they were sat together in the stands as the game started. They posted pictures together at the game sending the WOSO community into a spin, they sang along to North London Forever and watched the kick off. During the game they would chat tactics and cuddle up with each other, the TV broadcast kept cutting to them cuddled up and Alessia saw them on her big screen. She turned the TV off not wanting to see her ex with her now confirmed girlfriend. Alessia made the stupid decision to make her way to the hotel she knew that the Arsenal girls would be staying in waiting for Riley to get back.

Arsenal won 3-0 with the girls all traveling back to the hotel cheering and singing. Riley got off the bus, having parted ways with Hayley at the ground so she could meet up with the City girls for a dinner they had planned. Riley’s face dropped when she saw Alessia. “Fucking hell what are you doing here Less?” Alessia led Riley to an empty function room. “Riley I needed to talk to you. I want you back, I need to show you that I can be the girlfriend you deserve. I know I fucked up and I ruined it but I want to be better and to take care of you.” Riley sighed and leant against a table. “Alessia, you and I don’t work. We like the idea of each other but as soon as we go to the next step we fumble it.” Alessia was near tears. “Riley please, I love you so much. I am so much better for you than Hayley.” Riley scoffed. “Alessia, we were perfect when we were 17. We are 21 now, maybe it’s time we grew up.” Alessia closed the gap between them and kissed Riley deeply, but before she could process what had happened she had been pushed back and slapped. Riley’s hand stung but not as much as her heart, tears fell as she ran out of the room back to her teammates. Alessia stood in the function room clutching her cheek, alone.

[zombtropolis-central]

Ramble about the lore of the funny plant and zombie game below. Its basically gonna be me going

for like a few paragraphs

I know PvZ's timeline and lore is already weird (its literally a predestination paradox, and they explain nothing ever) but I always think about how the world just handled zombies before there were sentient plants, and the plants themselves and how they became a thing. Now I know there's that 'The Guide to Protecting Your Brains' that has some info, but much like a lot of non-game content for this series, I can't find an actual full scan of it outside of a few low quality pics of some pages on the wiki as well as the transcipts of plant and zombie descriptions from the wiki. So if the book clears up anything, I wouldn't know. (why is it so hard to find supplemental material for this series) I'm mainly going off info from the few scattered iceberg and lore vids on youtube, mainly choopo's video.

First, the zombies. Now we know they've existed for so long because of PvZ2's predestination paradox and Zomboss putting them there. But how did humans deal with them? I assume pre-plant era humans used normal weaponry; and because I doubt Zomboss stayed in the past eras after you beat him in PvZ2's adventure mode, that any zombies left behind in the past kind of just became a non-threat with nobody to command them.

But then we get to the Zombie War of '76. Yeah, Imitater's PvZ almanac entry mentions that there was a zombie war, and its so weirdly specific that I doubt its a joke or not meant to be taken as lore. There's a lot to unpack here.

We know that at least some plants fought in this war, as Imitater was apparently a part of it, and Bloom and Doom Seed Co. was establisted in 1968; but none of the plants we know in PvZ were in that war; because that generation of plants were made by Dave. Now Dave is assumed to be at least thirty six, and NMT has him state that he was a kid in the eighties, so he had to have been born in 1973 (according to my shitty math). So I have to assume Bloom and Doom Seed Co. had plants of their own in the war against the zombies during the '76 Zombie War.

Maybe there were some humans in it too, maybe it was mostly humans and the plants were like some hair-brained back-up plan, given we don't have many plants in the series who could have been in the war aside from Imitater and maybe Colnel Corn. (given his lore in GW2, but I have no evidence for this) I have no idea if this is true, but somebody in the comment section of choopo's PvZ lore vid said that the zombies are immune to bullets, but if that is actual lore then I can imagine why the plants would be there.

Here's another thing about this Zombie War that also fucks with me: Who was in charge of this zombie faction? Because I'm like... 98% sure it was not Zomboss. Now we know that Zomboss and Dave are somewhere in th same age range, because of the science fair incident, and Zomboss does age like a human does from that same science fair (and Bully for You); so he probably came into existence at the same time Dave was born. Now I know the counter could be "Well time travel is canon" but only in PvZ2, and there is not a single world in PvZ2 or PvZ2 China that is even close to being in a 70s war setting, so I can't consider that as a remotely canon-compliant explanation.

And the zombies have been shown to not be able to organize themselves for shit without somebody to command them, there had to be some kind of commander there. I'm sure it probably was Zomboss and Popcap just never bothered expanding on any of this Zombie War, but this random bit of lore compels me so much.

Like where was this war fought? What were the stakes? What was the zombie army like? Did people die? If it wasn't Zomboss leading the zombies in this war, who did? Or was it like a World War Z type 'war' where the zombies just swelled in numbers and overwhelmed whatever location they were in? And most importantly; has anybody made fanfic based on this concept and if so, where can I read it?

[misc-obeyme]

am I the only one who doesn't feel represented when it comes creating female lead in general?? i see rare unique and different female mc or characters compared to the typical female lead of interactive choice-based games.

my mc or me personality is more challenging and rebellious, she has that macho attitude and knows how to push someone's buttons. She is muscular and aggressive with a "what's up bro" and "nah fuck that fuck society" vibe, unlike the soft, pale as snow with "cute elegant clothing, long lustrous hair, slender physique and a quiet pleasant personality" typical female lead. there is nothing wrong with cute gals, they cool, they cool, but they're other gals then the submissive ones.

i do enjoy the game, let's be honest, who can survive simeons charm?? but i don't actually feel myself when i play as mc if you get what i mean. this wasn't only for tomboys tho it was for female mc in general who don't find themselves in mc, not getting represented. i gave my example and my struggling.

I think this is an issue for a lot of otome style games. I find that I don't like playing ones that have an actual image for MC. If they don't use the pronouns too much, I can usually gloss over that stuff, but the MCs are so very different from how I identify as a person that I can't self insert at all. (Not that I would if I could, to be fair.)

In fact, I feel like Obey Me is the only game in this genre that hasn't been as bad. (Well, Arcana was pretty good with this too since they let you choose your pronouns but I haven't played it in a while lol.)

MC is gender neutral by default, so they have that at least, which is more than I can say for most otome games. However, the personality problem still exists in OM and really I'd say it's just as bad as most of the others. Generic OM MC has some funny and unhinged lines, but most of the time everybody talks about how nice and sweet they are. I mean, we all joke about them being the demon therapist, but that's really how it is.

On the one hand, it's kind of annoying because you're right. Different types of MCs just don't exist really. And since the default is often female, it's like the one personality they think anyone female can have.

On the other hand, they're going to have to do this at a certain level. They can't give MC too much of a personality. In the end, they're still going for a target audience and I guess they think most female players are going to want to be portrayed as nice and sweet MCs?

All that rambling aside, your feelings are completely valid. To be honest with you, I don't see this changing in otome style games any time soon. So the best we can do is imagine the story differently for ourselves!

So many times I've been given a set of dialogue options for MC and been like... okay neither Ciaran or I would say any of those things. Here is what Ciaran would say if they were experiencing this moment! Then I choose the dialogue that's closest. Or if it's main story, I choose the ones that I think will raise intimacy lol.

Anyway, I don't think you're the only one. I think this is a pretty common feeling. And maybe one day someone will make an otome or dating sim game where the MC has a more rebellious attitude or is female but muscular. It says a lot about how women are perceived when the "generic" female lead is considered to be a nice and meek type of person. It's an unfortunate circumstance of society.

[ominous-faechild]

INCORRECT QUOTES (Waves's second edition!)

Bringing back an old tag game to entertain you guys since I haven't really gotten anything else out recently,,,

Rule: use this generator to create “incorrect quotes” for your wip

the small text are my personal additions where I think they work well for the character(s) lol

Yesval: Hi, I'm Flavie's emergency contact. Counter Woman: You're here to pick her up? Yesval: I'm here to remove myself as her emergency contact.

Yesval: I won a new phone in a race. Flavie: Huh? What kind of race lets you win a phone, Yesval? Yesval: A race between the store owner, the cop, and me.

Yesval: I don’t even have time to tell you how wrong you are. Benji: Okay? Yesval: … Yesval: … Yesval: Actually it’s gonna bug me if I don’t, so—

Yesval: This is a safety pin. *cuts off end* Yesval: It is now a danger pin.

Kidnapper: I have your partner. Cricket: What? I don't have a partner... Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife bitch and spit in my face? Cricket: Oh my god, you have Flavie.

Flavie, on the phone: I better go…kay, call me later… byeeee! Cricket: Friend of Yours? Flavie: Nope, wrong number. Cricket: ???

Flavie: You have any sunscreen? Cricket: You can't get a sunburn from a bonfire— Flavie: It's for my marshmallow, ya dummy.

Benji: Cricket, you're my best friend. Cricket: Best friend? BEST friend?! Bitch, I'm your only friend. Cricket: I'M THE ONLY ONE CAPABLE OF TOLERATING YOUR DUMB ASS!

Benji: You know guys, sometimes I feel like Cricket doesn't take me seriously enough. Tián: "Sometimes"? Zhihao: "Enough"? Benji: Zhihao: Change that to 'at all' and we'll talk.

Benji: I can't take you seriously wearing that. Flavie: Aw, you take me seriously at all? Benji: Fair point.

Flavie: Protip is you do not feel good about yourself after eating tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce. Benji: What's wrong with you?? Flavie: I literally JUST said I ate tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce?? Pay attention. Tián: No, he means other than that. Flavie: Ohhhhhh. Flavie: I haven't slept in 4 days.

Flavie: If I'm extra sarcastic with you it probably means I'm flirting with you or you really annoy me and I can't handle your crap... have fun figuring out which one.

Flavie: As someone who has a long history of not understanding anything, I feel confident in my ability to continue not knowing what is going on.

Flavie: I'm going to get myself some soup. Zarina: Be careful not to burn yourself, it's hot. Flavie: Pfft, I won't burn myself. *30 seconds later* Flavie, entering the room: I burned myself.

Flavie: What does “baka” mean? Tián: Moron. Yesval: Idiot. Cricket: Stupid. Flavie: The fuck did I do?! Tián, who knew exactly what he was doing: [stifles a grin]

Tián: Small creatures are much more vicious because they have a smaller body to bottle up all their emotions. Benji: Ridiculous. Give me some examples. Zarina: Wasps? Flavie: Terriers? Tián: Benji. Benji: [brb, 'boutta fight a bitch]

Benji: You know what’s funny about Tián? He's my best friend, and anyone who’d hurt him is someone I’d murder, probably.

Tián: honk. Benji: WHAT. Tián: HONK. Benji: WHAT DOES HONK MEAN THIS TIME YOU WHIMSICAL PIECE OF SHIT?????

Tián, at Benji's funeral: I need a moment with him. Everyone: Of course. *They leave* Tián, leaning over Benji's coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead. Benji: Yeah, no shit.

Tián: I’m in love with you. Benji: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork. Tián: I know. Benji: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Hairdresser: How would you like your hair cut? Tián: Preferably with scissors, but a sword could be badass. Aditi: [silently takes notes in the background]

Tián: I have a new hoodie. Benji and Aditi, simultaneously: Wrong. Benji and Aditi: We have a new hoodie. Benji and Aditi: [look at each other, shocked—]

Tián: Not to be nsfw but I want someone to hold me while I sleep. Benji and Aditi: [look at each other, then quickly start playing rock-paper-scissors] Tián: "tHAT WAS AN INVITATION FOR BOTH OF YOU—"

Tián, being robbed: Please! Have mercy! I have a family! A wife and kids… a dog… Benji: Literally none of that is true, Tián. Tián: Okay, but I’m sexy! That’s gotta count for something, right?

Benji, Tián, Flavie, and Zhihao: I came out here to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now.

*during a group project* Cricket: *does 99% of the work* Flavie: *has no idea what’s going on* Benji: *says they’re gonna help but does not* Tián: *disappears at the very beginning and doesn’t show up again until the very end*

Cricket, texting group chat: What flavour of ice cream do you guys want? I’m at the store so be quick! Benji: Moose Tracks is good! Flavie: What the fuck is that!? Benji: *Gasp* How dare you insult moo- Flavie: No. No no not that. What the hell. Why do you spell flavor like flavour. It’s like you have flavor but then this guy shows up and is like “Oui Oui Would you like chocolate flaVOUR or vanilla flaVOUR. Cricket and Benji: what? Flavie: I don’t get it why add the EXTRA u when it’s PERFECTLY FINE AS IT IS!? Cricket: You done now? Flavie: Yeah ok. Cricket and Benji: ... Flavie: ...Can I have the Mint Chocolate chip flavour?

Cricket: Oh my Zarina. Yesval: Don't you mean 'oh my god'? Cricket: You worship your god, I'll worship mine.

Cricket: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake. Zarina: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear. Cricket: ... Cricket: You mean ring bearER, right? Zarina: ... Cricket: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

Flavie: Why is Cricket crying on the floor? Benji: He's drunk. Flavie: And? Benji: He saw a picture of Zarina's husband. Flavie: But he's Zarina's husband. Benji: I know.

I love how you can tell that, between them all, Flavie, Benji, and Tián are the "crazy chaos crew" and everyone else is just dealing with their shit LOL

Also uhhh,,, have two Demonic Magic ones I managed to make work—

(those guys aren't anywhere near silly enough to pull these off lol)

Kestrel: Your lab is in the bathroom? Genesis: Father said this is the perfect place for my work. I’m just now realizing that remark may not have been entirely complimentary.

Kestrel & Eidolon: I am free of all prejudice. I hate everyone equally.

open tag!

dividers by @saradika

[goron-king-darunia]

Annon-Guy: Hope you like this. I feel this does Shadow, Rouge, Omega and Maria justice.

Tell me what you think when you get a chance.

------------------------------------------------------------‐-----------------

Voice Cast:

Shadow: Kirk Thornton

Maria Robotnik: Stephenie Sheh

Rogue The Bat and Abe: Karen Strassman

E-123 Omega and The G.U.N. Commander: Roger Craig Smith

------------------------------------------------------------‐-----------------

Sonic X Shadow Generations - Dark Beginnings; https://youtu.be/S7RTnNygRqE?si=7wV1L1r5lx9u2bj9

The choreography for the fight scenes are incredibly snappy, and Shadow, Omega, and Rouge have that great Team Dark synergy going again. The fact that Rouge wants to manipulate Shadow into doing something as silly as attending Sonic's Birthday Party is kind of funny, but I really doubt Shadow would go otherwise, so fair enough.

Omega constantly calling dibs and being upset when Shadow gets to explode a robot is pretty fun, and Shadow actually visibly pulling the escape pod lever to evacuate the G.U.N. mook was a really nice touch.

Commander Abe grew so much as a character off screen than he did in Shadow the Hedgehog, it's almost insane. But I love that they're paying attention to their own lore here. Also while Shadow was technically in stasis for 50 years, I like that they're still treating the loss of Maria as something that affects him like it's fresh. Because there's still so much that happened between then and now in the time Shadow has been awake, and in a lot of ways he only regained the memories of losing Maria recently on top of a lot of new trauma. So, like. I guess I'm just glad they're letting Sonic characters have realistic trauma again. Like, the comics are notorious for having Sonic's actual children literally disappeared from the timeline because timeline and time travel shenanigans meant they were literally never born, and Sonic has to tank that emotional hit with, like, the sadness of a guy that lost his favorite record collection in a fire and not, like A PARENT THAT HAD ALL HIS CHILDREN DIE IN A FREAK ACCIDENT. "Oh but it all turns out okay in the end they just get born later." NO. Sorry those are totally new kids and even if they were cell for cell the exact same kids that doesn't justify Sonic not being allowed to experience the crushing anguish he definitely would experience because "Sonic's not that kind of character and can't be too sad."

Like, nah, actually. They are funny little haha bouncy super-fast alien hedgehogs but they are STILL FUCKING PEOPLE. You do not get to put one of the literally hardest things a human can experience in the narrative and have the character shed 3 tears and shrug it off. "Oh but it's for kids--" who will grow up into adults and who will lose people important to them. Painting a character who is meant to be a children's role model as a guy who either can or HAS TO shrug off that kind of pain is basically telling kids "you might go through literally the hardest thing there is to experience in life. Don't cry too hard about it okay?" Like FUCK THAT. Not to even mention adult audiences that clearly read the material too who, you know, might ALSO have had such a terrible thing happen to them and the narrative barely gives that thing space to breathe before they go "Okay, everything's fixed now!"

So, yeah, I'm always going to be a little salty with narratives treating death as this cheap thing they can throw in to be like "oh a bad thing happened, but it's gonna be okay." As if death is a thing that exists for 10 seconds and then you get over it. I dunno, I've just never wanted death in narratives as something treated cheaply which is why in my own work I always think long and hard about whether characters need to die, even in my fanfic where my ultimate retcon is usually bringing a dead guy back to life. So I guess I just have mad respect for games and movies and shows that take this shit seriously. I know for a long time movies and games and shows for kids were supposed to be pure entertainment. The bad guy dying is just a way to eliminate the danger, the death of parents or community members or the fridging of women all serve as motivation for the heroes but aren't given much consideration beyond that, or death isn't mentioned at all and characters are subjected to fates worse than death so that darker themes can fly under the radar. And while I think it's noble and perfectly natural to want some children's media that focuses more on the adventure, pleasure, and fun of life and the narrative makes no allusion to or mention of death, I feel like we get so much of the other side of the coin too, where death is a flourish for easy fear and anguish that get plastered over with a happy ending but you're still not asked to consider it.

I think we get very little media that actually addresses something that most humans will go through. The deaths of people they care about. Even natural, expected, quiet deaths are painful. And it feels kind of strange that instead of offering audiences a safe and comfortable place to grapple with that unpleasantness, a lot of media asks us to skirt past it because it assumes doing so avoids the most unpleasantness and pain. And I really don't think it does. Grief, I think, is like a buckshot wound, and you have to do a lot of picking around in painful places to get all the bits and pieces out before any healing can happen. I'm not saying all media needs a designated 2 hour crying session where they play sad music and invite you to mourn the character that died or whomever in your life you have unresolved grief about. But I am saying that I think it's cowardly to not allow the deaths of important characters to haunt the narrative.

I recently had the opportunity to watch the Sonic movie. I know, I'm massively late to the party. I waited for it to show up on Netflix because that's the only streaming service I currently have and I'm morally opposed to and economically prevented from having 12 different subscription services just to watch everything as soon as it releases or else pay every time I want to see something in theaters no matter how old or new it is. And it's a good movie. But it bugged me a bit that the movie spent so little time on Longclaw. We skip all but the direct impact she had on Sonic. Maybe it gets addressed in the second movie. And I know a lot of time passes and it's meant to be his backstory, but we spend so little time absorbing that Sonic was chased out of his home and his initial mother figure literally died or at least seemed to die saving him. She lives on through the advice Sonic follows to stay safe on earth. But we're really expected to believe this tiny kid tanked both the loss of his home and his adoptive mother that easily? The only real resolution we get for that is the parallel of Tom thinking of leaving Green Hill and Sonic being shaken up by that because Tom is thinking of choosing to leave his home when Sonic himself had no choice in that. Longclaw gets one or two passing mentions.

We never see a body in the first movie so I'm assuming it's entirely possible they bring her back later on and they don't want us getting too sad about a character that isn't actually dead. But it still bugs me.

I suppose it's a personal thing for me, but I've always felt like if I have to or want to cause people pain in a narrative, I need to have a reason for it beyond "that's how you make this narrative work, that's the way stories are written." Then again, I'm the sort of person that almost unilaterally writes fluff and fix it fics, so maybe those are just the stories that resonate with me most. Maybe those are the stories I need, and everyone else needs stories where the narrative isn't haunted by characters long past. But, then again I resonated with Shadow before I even lost a grandparent, so maybe it's very little to do with personal circumstance at all. Maybe I just like suffering, any and all suffering, to be acknowledged for what it is and to ask the audience to consider the unfairness of a world where suffering exists because maybe it's just in my nature to want to beg the same from others, to consider how the world is unfair in the hopes that enough of us thinking about it will help the world to change.

[fictionkinfessions]

It's funny, I don't know what to call myself. Like, I'm Jack, from the Borderlands games, but I'm not Handsome Jack. That guy was the headmate who kinda took over our body but it wasn't his fault he was frontstuck. Long story, I think I've told it here before. Point is, I don't remember my last name and canon doesn't give it to me as far as I've seen (I saw one random one thrown in on a link when I googled it but it's not backed up by anything and didn't feel right so yeah, no). So I can't be Jack whatever-my-last-name-was 'cause that's kinda lost to the mists of time or whatever. But I certainly can't be Handsome Jack. And Jack is such a generic name, it doesn't point anyone anywhere or clarify anything. So I'm just kinda stuck when I want to slap a name on anything I say here, that or I pick some kind of tag that's all mine but honestly, that's a lot of work and I'm not up to being that creative. Maybe I'll do it someday. Dunno what it'd be, though, since I'm still not sure what I liked or who I was separate from him. Interesting side-note, I guess I kinda was the inspiration for the digi-clone idea? He said something about how "there's two of us in here, why not have another two, in a way". So that's cool and tbh a bit sweet, in a weird way that I'm not sure anyone but me would see. Oh, and other side-note, fuck people who say my/our "real name" was "John". Maybe that was the name I was given at birth (and maybe some other Jacks don't feel this way) but I went by Jack because that's the name I identified with, both of us did, neither of us was "John" no matter how much those assholes at Hyperion wanted to call us that before he kinda made it official policy that anyone who called us that went out the airlock (he definitely went overboard but to be fair, that policy was never put into action because no one ever did it again, I would've tried to get him to just fire them like a normal boss when someone is disrespectful beyond reason). It wasn't even on our papers at the time of the events of TPS, they just kept using that name because they were ASSHOLES. Thought their asshole-ness was clear but I guess some people don't understand the idea that the name someone goes by is generally their real name. Assholes.

✉

[mad3lyncline]

𝑯𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑪𝑹𝑨𝑭𝑻 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 – 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑬𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 . MORE STARTERS taken from the cscoopVEVO 'highcraft' videos . adjust pronouns as necessary !

i'm kind of enjoying being down here .

well that was just not fair .

dude he's so geared , i had nothing .

a sword . a sword maybe would be nice .

and now he's dead . actually , is he ? no , he's not .

[ name ] , i swear to fucking god . . .

step back ! step back ! get away from me !

i don't even . . . i don't even want it . i'm over it .

we need to fucking sobriety check [ name ] .

i don't know if i wanna be on a team with [ name ] .

dude , nothing's stopping you from killing him .

i don't know , um . . . anything .

i used to be good at this game . a long time ago .

i think his teammate ran away .

oh no . oh no no no no no .

run away , run away ; just run away , it's fine .

fuck it ; channeling my inner demon .

he's running like a coward .

that is pretty much what's going on .

i'm gonna be honest with you , my only goal is to kill [ name ] .

oh shit , where the fuck is [ name ] ?

i'm boutta fuck everybody's wife .

were you actually gonna try and kill me ?

i went on a great pilgrimage , dude .

we just fuckin' dropped him .

i don't have any food . do you have food ?

oh my god , everyone's here , highkey .

wait who the fuck is up there , then ?!

you are actually so fucking stupid it's not even funny , dude .

i got [ name ] on fire .

i shot [ name ] . i shot [ name ] again .

we're gonna be chasing these guys for a while .

pick up their arrows and shoot them with them !