#like it's so cool to hear what an individual has to say and figure out their worldviews and just learn from them and about them

[cryolyst]

there is never enough time to talk (to you)

we could spend all our waking hours

from our morning routine

to our bedtime wind-down

between every minute free from our daily tasks

between every bite of our meals

no matter if we carve an island out of the busy world

just to sit and talk alone

it is not enough time

not enough time to crawl into your brain

hear the minutiae of your knowledge

every detail of your experiences

all the passing things you wonder

not enough time to let everything i have in me spill

the minutiae of my knowledge

every detail of my experiences

all the passing things i wonder

all the things you make me wonder

[moonstruckme]

request for Remus x reader, or poly!marauders x reader - A reader who seems more dominant in everyday life (managing group projects, generally independent, being a leader, etc.) maybe she's an older sibling or has parents that aren't all that responsible so she's had to take on that role.

But she settles into a more submissive energy with her partner(s) because she feels safe to do so, and lets them take charge. sorry if that's too specific! I hope it makes sense

no stress if this isn't your jam <3

Soft dom Rem you will always be famous <3 Thanks for requesting lovely!

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 651 words

“No, yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” You flash your boyfriend a terse smile as you come in the door, phone held between your face and your shoulder. Remus steps forward to take your bag from you, and you mouth a thanks as you set down your keys. “That sounds like it would work fairly easily with my current plan, I wouldn’t mind incorporating that. No—of course—no worries, I appreciate your help.”

Remus starts to ease you out of your jacket, and it’s a struggle to keep from sighing at the casual care in his touch as you continue talking to the person on the other line. “Okay, are you free to meet on Thursday to finalize things?” You listen. Nod. “Perfect. I’ll get in contact with the others and figure out a time that works.” 

Remus hangs your jacket over a chair and goes to sit on the couch, motioning for you to follow. You make a gesture for one second and take your planner from your bag, grabbing a pen and taking the cap off with your teeth. “So you definitely can’t do after four? No, that’s cool, I’m just making sure.” You scribble down a couple of time ranges. “I’ll get back to you with what the others say. Okay, thanks! Talk soon.” 

You end the call with a sigh, leaving your planner faceup on the table so you’ll remember to call the others later. Remus waits until you’re looking at him before patting his thigh. 

Something unravels in you as you walk over to him obediently, settling yourself in his lap. 

“Hi,” you say, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and laying your head on his shoulder. 

“Hi.” A bit of bemusement makes its way into Remus�� tone at your obvious relief. He rests a hand on the small of your back. “Long day, sweetheart?” 

You hum. “Not bad. I just have this headache that won’t go away, so that made it feel longer.” 

Remus tuts, his other hand coming up to cup the back of your head protectively. “Why’s that, hm?” 

“Dunno,” you exhale, snuggling into him. “It’s getting better already, though.” 

“Hm.” He sounds dissatisfied. A second later, he’s holding you securely to his back, tipping you both forward as he reaches for the coffee table. You hear ice clinking. “Drink this.” 

Reluctantly, you take your face from his shoulder to accept the water bottle. It’s his, nearly full and ice cold. Remus strokes your hair as you sip from it, eyes soft with approval. 

“That’s enough managing people for today,” he says, not unkindly. “You’ve already done most of the work, you can send a text and let them coordinate their own meeting time.” 

You frown, taking your lips from the water bottle. “I would, but they’ll never actually respond if it’s in a group chat. Nobody replies if I don’t message them individually.” 

“They’ll have to figure it out.” He shrugs insouciantly. 

You feel your eyebrows pinch, another argument rising to your tongue, but it evaporates when Remus wraps a long-fingered hand around your jaw. 

He tilts your chin up towards him. “They shouldn’t need you to take care of everything in order for it to get done,” he says sternly. “If they start calling you again tonight, I want you to send them to voicemail. Understand?” 

“Yes,” you reply automatically, and Remus releases your chin as you sigh, letting you ignore the water bottle for a minute so you can fold yourself back into him. 

“Good.” He turns his head into yours, kissing your temple. “You were never going to get rid of this headache if you let them keep pestering you all night, dove. They’re like flies.” You laugh a little, and Remus scratches at your scalp rewardingly. “You can text them in a little bit. Let’s just stay here for a minute, yeah? Try to get you relaxed.”

[rapunzelbro]

Imagine Vox getting flustered by their S/O

I wrote this but it formatted wrong so I made an individual one. MEGA MEGA thank you to @silverhetdanes for helping me with ideas. She’s my cowriter on some stuff when I run out of ideas pls give them a follow. This was a request!!

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Vox is never one to get flustered easily

Being dramatic as hell? Yes without a doubt. But flustered no

You and him met on your own terms with no contract even involved.

Dude just loved your presence and you worked with him with no sort of deal holding you hostage

Eventually hitting it off and you start dating

This means a lot more one of one time and meeting his other friends or associates whatever he refers to them as

Valentino lowkey tries to get you to make a deal with him to be one of his dancers but Vox gets soooo pissed you'll never forget the look at his face, well screen.

But how did he get flustered you may ask?

You were getting ready for your show and doing your makeup in your dressing room and Vox came in unexpectedly

You didn't have a shirt on or a bra

Bro gets so flustered because he has never seen you like this before??

He wanted to wait until you were comfortable before you two got there but holy shit

You look at him and think nothing of it

Vox.exe has stopped working

Dudes screen went full blown glitch mode?

Like you know the screen with the box that moves around trying to hit the corner?

That shows up followed by the 'screen of death' and bro starts overheating?? Hands sparking??

You quickly cover yourself and shut the door behind him trying to figure out how to help this flustered robot.

You trying to take his hands to calm him down like you usually do and getting burned not realizing how hot he was truly getting

“Shit!"

Hearing you say that pretty much shifts his focus on you helping him cool down

“s͛⦚h͛⦚i͛⦚t͛⦚ s͛⦚h͛⦚i͛⦚t͛⦚ a͛⦚r͛⦚e͛⦚ y͛⦚o͛⦚u͛⦚ o͛⦚k͛⦚a͛⦚y͛⦚”

Dudes voice glitching like hell but him focusing on you rather than what he saw helped him a ton

You calming him down saying how you weren't upset he saw you like that

“I just wanted to wait until you were ready"

"I've been ready just waiting for you V."

Dude honestly loves you so much and doesn't want to ruin the one good thing he has going for him

After your show he definitely takes you out somewhere nice to apologize

You two definitely make out and this time he doesn't over heat when he sees you undressed

[henry7931]

Freaky Friday Block Part I

In a quiet neighborhood, 40 individuals one Friday morning all woke up in the wrong body. Although, all of them know each other— none of them are sure how or what happened to cause it. So the mystery begins…

Friday 8:00AM

An alarm starts to sound abruptly.

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

Max:

“Ugh… what time is it?”

*Yawns*

“Wait, what the? Where am I?”

This isn’t my room… my feet they look huge….

Who’s bed am I in? And what’s wrong with my feet?

I climb out of bed and feel my weight hit the ground, my stomp sounds heavier.

I look at my arms, my legs, something isn’t right…

I walk to the door of the strange bedroom I’m in and open it. Looking out in the hallway, it starts to look familiar.

“This is Jacob’s house, what am I doing at Jacob’s?”

Wait my voice? It sounds deeper and has this rasp to it.

I walk into Jacob’s bathroom and turn on the light.

“AHHHHHHHHH!!!”

This can’t be possible. How is this possible? Looking at me in the mirror is… Jacob’s dad, Mr. Thomas.

I splash cold water in my face thinking this may all be a dream but I’m still Mr. Thomas.

I pinch his cheek and the feel slight stubble on his face.

My realization starts to stink in that this is in fact not a dream, I am actually my friend’s dad Daniel Thomas.

I stare into his face taking it all in, Mr. Thomas is a handsome man. At least, I’ve always thought he’s attractive. He’s single with two sons and I’ve never seen him with a woman.

I run his fingers down his arms, flexing his muscles a bit which causes me to giggle.

I repeat back into the mirror, “Hi, I’m Dan Thomas.”

It sounds funny hearing my self control such a deeper voice.

I look down at his chest and then my eyes focus in on his boxer briefs.

Curious, I pull down his boxers and Mr. Thomas’s 10 inch semi hard manhood and huge hairy balls is fully exposed.

“Not bad!” I say checking out his junk from every angle.

I turn around and get a glance of his cute hairy butt. I smack it and start laughing again.

Mr. Thomas is such a serious guy and I never see him act goofy. Making him do things so out of character is kind of a turn on.

I had a moment of fun before coming back to reality. I need to figure out what’s going on and why I’m Mr. Thomas.

But who do I even talk to about this? Should I say something to Jacob or is going to think his dad’s gone mad…

Screw it, I’ll knock on his door.

*Knock Knock*

“Hey Jacob, open up it’s uhh… it’s dad!”

Geez, I’m not good at this.

The door doesn’t open but then I hear a door across the hallway open. It’s Jacob’s little brother.

“Hey dad, what’s up?” he says to me.

“Hey Conner, I was trying to your brother up.”

“Conner? Dad did you just call me Conner?”

All of the sudden, Jacob’s door opens and Jacob is standing at the door.

“What’s going on?” he says with a big yawn.

It takes a second for everything to click but both Conner and Jacob scream on the top of their longs.

“Conner?!??”

“Jacob?!???”

“But… but how?”

“Well I have some news boys, I’m not your dad either. It’s me Max.”

“Max??!??”

Well I guess I’m glad I’m not the only one who woke up as someone else this morning.

Meanwhile Two Houses Down, a guy named Ashton is babysitting his nephew Davy.

Davy:

I woke up feeling weird and for some reason why I’m in Uncle Ash’s bed!

“Uncle Ash?”

Wow! My voice sounds funny!!!

I swing my legs out of bed but then I notice something very different….

My feet look like someone else’s!

I stand up and notice I’m so much closer to the ceiling.

I walk out to the hallway and head to the bathroom.

When I turn on the light, I COULD NOT BELIVE WHAT I SAW!!!

IM UNCLE ASH!!!

I looked in the mirror and couldn’t look away. I’m so much more tall! And hairier?

“Wow Uncle Ash had tattoos?? Cool!”

This is amazing!!! All of my friends are going to be so jealous!!

Wait… if I’m uncle Ash, then who’s me???

Across the street another house with college/ graduate students guys starts to wake up.

Kyle:

“Mhmmm… that feels so good….”

Wait…. My dick feels kinda funny….

“Wow what the fuck?”

My body look didn’t and why the hell am I in Skylar’s room?

I hope out of bed and head to the bathroom.

I know us guys partied last night but I didn’t drink that much to fall asleep in Skylar’s bed.

I get the bathroom and open up the door. Only to find Zeek on the floor with his tongue out.

“Zeek you okay?”

“Woof!”

“What the hell?”

I glance into the mirror only for eyes to get bigger. I see Skylar’s good looking face looking back at me.

Across the street from the Thomas’s house.

Daniel Thomas:

*Yawn*

“Boy that was one of the best sleeps I’ve had in awhile.”

“What a sec.. where am I?”

[suzukiblu]

WIP guessing game: "Robin"

Superboy has existed for about six months at best (five months, two weeks, and six days, but who's creepily spying on their fellow heroes and vigilantes? not Tim, for sure) and was created in a lab full of extremely niche genetic experiments whose creators very rarely bothered making look human, which is probably why he has some weird ideas about certain social norms.

Tim assumes that's why the guy just decided to drop a very annoyed Catwoman on him out of nowhere, anyway.

"The fuck?" he says, though through his vocoder it comes out more like the incoherent screeching of the damned. That being, well, the whole purpose of the vocoder and all. Superboy grins down at him from the nighttime sky all bright and sunny and weirdly adorable, for being a lab-grown weapon and a guy who is technically capable of disassembling Tim down to his individual atoms with, like, a touch and about two seconds' worth of thought.

Not that Tim has been creepily spying on anyone or said anyone's Cadmus files, again.

Also Superboy might not even know he can do that yet, so it's really not a smart thing to mention right now.

"Hey, man!" Superboy greets cheerfully. "She was breaking into that big museum a couple blocks over, figured you'd care about that. As opposed to, like, breaking into some rich asshole with insurance's penthouse. Figured you would not have cared about that."

"The museum also has insurance, for the record," Selina informs him sourly as she makes an art of getting off her unceremoniously roof-dumped ass while looking like being on this roof was her idea to begin with. Because, like: Selina. "And has not properly sourced the artifacts in their new Bast exhibit."

I know, that's why I was on my way to the museum to keep an eye out for you, is what Tim does not say, since Robin is supposed to be a splintered aspect of a mysterious all-knowing city spirit given human form and not just, like, a really dedicated teenager surviving on semi-legal energy drinks and conspiracy-board detective work and the occasional occult ritual to summon the Batman.

What he does do is jerkily cock his head and say, "Preyyyyy?", and let his vocoder horribly mangle the word into a sound usually best described as "unholy avian screeching". Superboy beams, which is not a normal reaction to hearing Robin's voice. Selina just rolls her eyes, but Selina of course knows about the whole "really dedicated teenager surviving on semi-legal energy drinks and conspiracy-board detective work and the occasional occult ritual to summon the Batman" thing.

Like she's never summoned the Batman for anything, geez. Or "Bruce", as an eight year-old Dick Grayson had once upon a time decided to randomly dub him. Tim still can't call the eternal and unsleeping eldritch protector of their city that without feeling like he's going to spontaneously combust, but it is in fact a thing that the Batman will answer to.

Might as well call Pennyworth "Alfie", though.

Jason was even worse at names than Dick, Tim is pretty sure.

"Yeah!" Superboy says, sounding still more cheerful and floating down the rest of the way to the roof to land lightly in front of Tim. Selina eyes him in a way that would end very badly for anyone who was not functionally invulnerable. "I mean, she seems cool and all but I dunno, figured the Bat wasn't big on Cats in his territory. And also the criming. Definitely also the criming."

"How . . . find Robin?" Tim asks. Superboy doesn't have enhanced senses, as far as he knows, so . . .

"Oh, I've been stalking you," Superboy explains. Tim blinks behind his unblinking mask and feels several ways about that statement. "That's what you Bats all do when you're interested in somebody, right? So I figured you'd like it if I did it back."

. . . Tim feels several ways about that statement.

[diorslibrary]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐞𝐭

　 ⌒  　𝗶𝘁𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 　 𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔡𝔢　 　⟡

𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝐷𝑖𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑦 ︵︵ of shifting ﹐ knowledge

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 ｍｉｎｄｓｅｔ

I have shifted over 20 times. people usually ask me how I do it-- and to that I say, there are a lot of factors to shifting. however, the one I lean on is my mindset. my mindset has developed a lot over the years. this has been a project I have been working on for over a year, and I am so excited to share it with you all. welcome to my library.

the shifting mindset; why does it matter? well, lets say you are trying to shift. you listen to subliminal, you affirm, and you lie down. however, you can't feel any symptoms. suddenly, you say to yourself-- "what if I never shift?"

all of these subliminal and affirmations? ripped to shreds! with that one negative comment, everything you have ever done is suddenly worthless. this is because reality shifting revolves around your conscious and subconscious. if your conscious believes that you can't shift, so does your subconscious. then, how will you shift your subconscious to another reality? the subconscious that doesn't even know that that is possible? you are the one in power. do not let it go, do not undermine it.

I am aware of my capability and my power. no, I do not rely on random angel numbers to know that I can shift. no, I do not rely on edits of my significant other to find the motivation to shift. what do I rely on? myself. I am able to shift, and I have many times. I don't need my significant other to remind me of that, because what will my significant other do to push me to my desired reality?

𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗽𝘂𝗿𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲.

shifting for me has always been exploration, not only of other realities, but the topic itself has always been something worth exploring and speaking about. as much as I can talk about my other 5 lives, I can also talk about the fact that there is a reality where I am best friends with Ariana grande and I am Elon musk's adoptive daughter. what if I also told you that I can become fully aware of that reality and more so live in it and come back to tell you all of the secrets behind TESLA?

whenever I got unmotivated, I just remembered what shifting is in the first place. shifting is the power of shifting your consciousness to a whole other reality. what part of that yells impossible once you fully think into it? you can lucid dream and have all 5 senses. now what if I exemplified that into the same explanation? when I dream, I enter my own minds imagination of a distorted world where I suddenly feel, hear, and see every little thing my brain can possibly think of while my body is asleep. suddenly, that doesn't sound as believable as it would if I just described it as dreaming. dreaming is something that your mind does by itself, and shifting is something under your full control. how cool is that? incredible.

this is what I think of whenever I doubt my own abilities. if you haven't shifted, does that mean you cannot shift? if I can't solve a math problem, does that mean I never will? no? I can easily research the formula, then I can figure out every easy step on deciphering the answer to the math question. once I settle into those steps, suddenly, doing that math equation is extremely easy. same with shifting. shifting is complex, because it is an individual journey individualized to each and every shifter in this damn universe. you cannot depend on someone else's method to reach your own goal. that's like seeing a shirt that's a bit too big on you fit nice and snug on someone else, then immediately assuming it would look the same on you. we are all different people.

you have to begin to clear your own path, dont wait on other people to do it for you.

that's all I have to say. for now, at least.

shifting is pretty simple, isn't it?

thank you, come again.

dior.

[wheatnoodle]

i love you, evangeline

og post | p1 | p2 | p3 | p4 | p5

~🌷��~

“so,” dustin says around a mouthful of french toast that has him spewing crumbs everywhere, “can i ask about…y’know…you becoming…you?”

“yeah, sure. ask away. we didn’t do secrets before this,” evie freezes briefly as she grabs a napkin to give him. her face cringes slightly. “sorry about that, by the way.”

dustin flaps the napkin to wave her worry off. “dude, you could literally get killed if you tell the wrong person.”

“way to remind us,” robin rolls her eyes over her coffee mug.

“anyways!” evie cuts in with a clap of her hands. “your questions?”

“oh! right. i wrote them down,” dustin says and pulls out his phone to open his notes.

“he wrote them down,” robin repeats sarcastically under her breath, earning a snort from evie and a glare from dustin that has her raising her hands in surrender.

dustin takes a sip of his orange juice and clears his throat. “okay. did you know before you left hawkins? how did you figure it out?”

“yeah, i knew before i left. i think right around when the whole…vecna thing happened was when i really understood what was up,” evie nods thoughtfully, “like, i always felt…different? or just lost, i guess. and then with starting to find words to put to my feelings, like transgender and dysphoria, it started to feel like maybe i wasn’t so weird. robin and i went shopping and tried on like skirts and stuff and that was wild. and then i started thinking about all the girls i had dated and what that meant, and honestly, i think i wanted to be them rather than be with them.”

“so if you didn’t want to be with them, are you gay? or…i guess straight? like you like dudes?” dustin asks, his brows drawn as he listens.

“y’know, i haven’t really thought too much about it but…yeah,” she shrugs. “i guess i’d say i’m straight since i like men.”

“cool,” he nods with a smile. “damn, so even as a girl, you and robin still won’t date.”

“oh dude, i was struggling helping her out with everything after her boob job. i swear, i was no better than a man,” robin says across the table.

“she wore an ace bandage as a blind fold,” evie laughs, tossing her head back. dustin giggles as he watches robin pick up the newspaper to smack evie with, her cheeks bright red.

“is it only robin and now me who knows?” he continues along with his questioning.

“you two and my dad’s secretary since he didn’t feel like answering the phone. she congratulated me, by the way,” evie smirks at the end. just picturing her dad’s face if he were to hear the news. the rage, the steam coming from his ears. screams that could be heard blocks away as he throws another lamp. and his loyal secretary of 8 years has already congratulated his daughter and told her how happy she is for her. robin high fives her every time she gets to mention it.

“damn! i cant imagine how much that took for you to cal him. nice work,” dustin smiles proudly. “would you ever want to tell more people from hawkins?”

she’s silent for a minute. it’s something she didn’t think she’d ever consider doing. and yet, she can’t outright say no.

“i think so. someday. i hope.”

“i could…ease them into the idea so it’s less of a shock? just like…gauge where everyone’s head is at in regards to transgender individuals, give you two updates, see where to go from there?” dustin suggests with a shrug. robin’s brows raise under bangs. now that’s an idea she hasn’t had yet.

“that sounds…good,” evie nods confidently after a second, a new smile blooming on her face. robin cheers from her seat and throws her arms in the air. “just be subtle! don’t walk in all ‘hey guys, how do you feel about hypermasculine jocks from small towns turning into women who wanna be barbie?’.”

“oh no, you stole my plan word for word,” dustin rolls his eyes. “no shit i’ll be subtle. it’s a shame a side effect of estrogen isn’t intelligence.”

“don’t forget i’m hosting you,” evie warns with a pointed finger.

“yes, mom,” he sighs heavily, “okay, you can stop me if this is too far. you said you got your boobs done, did you get…like…the surgery? like the surgery?”

“not too far, honestly. yeah, i got it about…a year ago, actually! ahh happy birthday to me!” evie claps excitedly.

“does it work?”

“DUSTIN!”

~

“i just don’t get why he hasn’t said anything. he said he would update us what she’s like, i mean c’mon, he’s the first one invited over! the first one allowed over! he promised to text when he got there, what if something happened? did everyone die? him and robin are silent! nobody answers their texts!”

“eddie! will you please just stop? dustin is fine and i am sure he isn’t wooing your fairy princess, love of your life, big stupid crush, ms evangeline,” gareth groans. he’s laying upside down on the couch in his and eddie’s apartment, curls dangling to the ground. it’s been forever of listening to eddie gush about robin’s roommate and now it’s just even worse with dustin staying with them. the least eddie could do is stop pacing in front of him, he’s making him motion sick watching his legs go back and forth.

finally, eddie flips down next to him with a heavy sigh. he takes a long swig of his beer, effectively draining half of it down his throat, before just staring at the ceiling.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. you’re right. everything’s fine. plus, it’d be pretty fucked of him to go flirt with her when i called dibs.”

“you can’t dibs a woman-“

“yeah, yeah, shut up.” eddie lightly kicks at gareth’s shoulder. he sighs again, his finger fiddling with the wrapper on his beer bottle. “…do you think he’s mentioned me?”

“that’s it, i need a knife.”

~🌷🌻~

taggie waggies:

@lololol-1234 @xo-r4e @paintsplatteredandimperfect @homohomohoe @charlies-candid-corner @tartarusfairy @howincrediblysapphicofyou @steddie-as-they-go @bestwifehaver @sexymothmanincarnate @zoeweee @romanticdestruction @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @breadboi66 @shadowofaliar @mollymawkwrites @lofaewrites @estrellami-1 @ronance-is-my-wife @afewproblems @heartsong18 @discount-izukumidoriya @mightbeasleep @bookbinderbitch @justforthedead89 @onehandedbitch @anxiouseds @sunfloweringstories @cyranyx @thegingerrapunzel @hequet @herebedragons404 @magpiemuseum @scheodingers-muppet @the-ghost-in-your-curtains @background-noise-headache @steddieloverrr @punctualhowell @musical-theatre-gay @its-a-me-a-morgan @chronically-stupid-human @stevesbipanic @says-swag-unironically

[resident-gay-bitch]

This is inspired by this post :))

“Padfoot?” Harry asked, scrambling up to the table beside Sirius. He slapped his grubby little hands up on the table that was taller than he, and peaked over it to get a look at what Sirius was doing, “What’s that?”

“These are taxes.” Sirius said calmly, reaching down to grab Harry by the waist and hoist him up onto his own lap, “It’s things adults have to do with money. It’s very boring.”

“Do you have to do writing?” He asked, poking the page with a… green finger.

“Yes, a little bit.” Sirius said, grabbing Harry’s hand to get a good look at it, “Why are all of your fingers different colours, Bambi?”

“I wanted to be a rainbow!” He exclaimed, poking Sirius in the face, “Just like you!”

Beside them, Remus snickered, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Just like me, huh?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah.” Harry giggled, “Like you and uncle Moony.”

Sirius laughed and nudged Remus in the ribs, “Hear that Moons? It’s not just me.”

Remus rolled his eyes and shook his head, “You’re trouble, Harry.”

Harry giggled and smiled up at Sirius, “Do you get to do colouring on taxis?”

“Taxes, Sprout, they’re called taxes.” Sirius corrected, running a hand over Harry’s unruly hair, “And no, it’s so boring. No colours allowed.”

Harry poked out his tongue and blew a raspberry, “Can I help you? Maybe I can make it fun.”

“You can absolutely help me if you like, Remus has to help me too because I’m not much good at this stuff. I reckon you’ll be pretty good at it though, don’t you think?”

“Yeah! I’m good at everything.” Harry nodded, “Mummy says I’m the best ever.”

“Well, your mummy is right. Isn’t she, Moons?”

“She’d probably hex me if I said she was ever wrong.” Remus agreed, “So yes, your mother is always right, Harry. You are the best ever.”

Proudly, Harry grinned and stuck his hands up in the air. Sirius tugged him into a big hug and kissed the top of his head before they settled comfortably in their shared chair.

Harry listened carefully as Remus explained each step to Sirius, and together they figured out how to do Sirius’ taxes.

Once that task was done, Remus left for work and Harry followed Sirius through their little house towards the laundry.

“Can I help, please, Padfoot. Mummy says I’m so helpful.”

“Absolutely you can help me, Harry.” Sirius grinned, opening up the washing machine and pulling out all the wet laundry. “I’ll carry this basket outside because it’s very heavy, but maybe you can help me hang everything out, how does that sound?”

“Okay!” Harry shouted running off in the other direction, “I’ll go get your sunglasses!”

“They’re beside my bed!” Sirius called back, chuckling to himself as he loaded up the basket.

He met Harry by the back door, and the little boy was huffing and puffing from his run throughout the house, looking for Sirius’ sunglasses and his own pair that had gotten lost in the mess of his own little room for sleepovers.

They both put their shades on, looking super cool and awesome in them together, and went outside into the summer sun to hang the laundry.

Harry was very helpful, as he said he would be, and handed Sirius each individual item from the basket so he could hang them out. Harry wanted to help hang things up too, because he said it looked fun, but he was too short to reach the clothes line. Sirius did put the boy on his shoulders at one point to hang a few of his own little socks and undies out.

Harry was very satisfied to be helping. Sirius finds it’s adorable how Harry just wants to hang around him all the time, even when he’s doing perfectly mundane things like laundry and taxes. But he supposed he used to be the same with James.

When they were younger, Sirius would follow James everywhere, and he’d watch when James wanted to do extra homework, he’d watch when James polished his broom, and he’d hang around when James wanted to read his magazines. They were best friends, of course Sirius wanted to spend every waking minute with James.

It fills him with so much pride to be that best friend to little Harry. It makes him so happy to know that Harry likes to plod around behind Sirius, doing the most boring of things, simply because he enjoys Sirius’ presence.

Sirius and James may be the best of friends, but they’re nothing compared to the friendship Harry and Sirius have created. They’re together as much as they possibly can be. When Harry was really little, he’d often get confused and call Sirius “dad”, which only made James extremely happy of course.

After the laundry was hung out, they popped back inside for a spot of tea and muffins before getting ready to head out for the day. Harry put his favorite t-rex shirt on, and the boots Sirius bought him for his last birthday. Sirius also wore his boots, and his T.Rex shirt so they’d sort of match.

They both took their leather jackets and wore their matching “cool guy” sunglasses.

Sirius isn’t allowed to take Harry on his motorcycle without adult supervision (James does not count as adult supervision), so they walked down the street, hand in hand, to the bus stop to head into town.

Harry had a wonderful time on the bus, as he always does. He likes to press his face up against the window and watch the world zoom by. It fascinates him how they can move so fast without feeling the wind in his hair or anything, unlike flying on a broom. He thinks it’s brilliant.

He also had a lovely chat with an older lady on the bus. Harry likes to talk to strangers, which became a bit of an issue a few months ago when he’d just wonder off with them. Luckily none had been of the evil sort and helped him find his family again, but it was certainly a problem. He’s better now though, only talking with strangers when someone he knows is also there.

So when an older lady sat across from them on the bus, Harry got chatting away. She told Sirius he was such a lovely boy, and that he should be a very proud dad. Harry and Sirius both had a bit of a giggle about that, and Harry corrected her by calling Sirius his “bestest friend in the entire world and also my uncle”.

When they finally reached their stop, Sirius had to pick Harry up and carry him away because all he wanted to do was chat with the lady. He was very upset to get off the bus, but Sirius bribed him with a lollipop later, so Harry calmed down.

“What’s this place?” Harry asked as they walked through the double doors of the optometrist.

“It’s where you go to get glasses.”

“Oh…” He furrowed his brow, “Did daddy have to go here?”

“Yep.” Sirius nodded, “He has to come back every so often, too.”

“Why are we here?” Harry asked, skipping along beside Sirius as they walked up to the counter, their hands intertwined.

“Because Moony thinks I need glasses, even though I think he’s wrong. But also… you might need glasses too.”

“Like daddy?”

“Yeah, like daddy.” Sirius smiled, “We have to get a little test done, but don’t worry, it’s not scary, just a bit weird. And I’m gonna be there the whole time.”

“Okay.” Harry shrugged, “Can I get glasses like daddy?”

“You can get whatever glasses you want, if the eye doctors say you need them.”

“Okay!” Harry grinned, jumping on the spot.

When the pair were finally called in for their assessment, Sirius went first to help calm some of Harry’s rising nerves. He sat in the chair and confidently named all the letters the optometrist pointed out to him. Once all his tests were done, and Harry was squirming in his lap, excited and ready to take his own tests, the optometrist delivered some shocking news.

“Yeah, you really need some glasses.”

“Shit.”

“Bad word!” Harry gasped, “You’re not allowed to say that.”

“Bullocks, then.” Sirius corrected, “Bloody Remus, why is he always right?”

Harry was very brave through the bulk of his tests, it was only when the optometrist had to get up close to his eyes did he grab onto Sirius and squeeze his wrist so hard that he has little half moons indented in his skin from Harry’s nails.

Nevertheless, Sirius was proud of him, and he told Harry so much. Together, they wondered through the store, hand in hand, and picked out their glasses.

Harry picked a pair similar to his dads, round, black wire frames that were almost bigger than he was. He loved them though, and thought he looked amazing in them, and Sirius thought he was too adorable to not let Harry get them.

Sirius picked out some semi rimless tortoiseshell glasses that suited his face well, and didn’t draw too much attention whilst still accentuating his eyes. When he asked for Harry’s opinion, Harry just said, “You look really smart!”

Sirius looked back at his own reflection and realised he did look pretty smart, and decided he should buy them because Remus would probably find him really attractive.

Once the glasses were bought and they both stepped out wearing them, they headed down to the store to buy some groceries. Tonight, Harry wanted to help cook dinner with Sirius because they were having a big family tea. Lily and James were coming over, as well as Uncle Wormy, Aunt Mary, and Lele (or, Marlene, who refused to be called an aunt because she did not feel responsible enough for that title. Harry calls her Lele, and is the only one allowed to do so, because when he was smaller he couldn’t pronounce Marlene, or Marls, or Marlie, so he automatically shortened Marlie to Lele).

Harry got to sit in the trolley as they wandered around the store, and he was very helpful when grabbing the food they needed and putting it all in the bottom of the trolley in a very organised manner. All the cold things were on one side, all the not cold things on the other, all the big things at the back, and all the little things at the front. Sirius was very impressed with his organisation.

“What do you think, Bambi?” Sirius asked, stopping by the meats, “Would you prefer roast chicken, or roast lamb for tea?”

“Uhm…” Harry thought, tapping his chin as he inspected the meat isle, “Lamb because it’s bigger and I’m so hungry.”

Sirius giggled and grabbed the lamb, handing it to Harry to organise in the trolly, “Careful, muscle man, it’s heavy.”

“Woah!” Harry wobbled as he took it in two hands, carefully crouching down to put it where he wanted it to go, “It’s okay, I’m getting really strong.”

“Yes you are.” Sirius grinned, beginning to push the trolley again, “You’re almost stronger than I am.”

Harry giggled, very giddy on the compliment. Sirius adores how easy it is to get Harry in a giddy state, he gets so adorably flustered anytime anyone gives him a compliment, Sirius can’t help but compliment him all the time.

Honestly, it’s probably a little selfish of him, but he supposed it’s a good thing anyway, that he wants to dote on Harry all the time. He never grew up understanding what it felt like to be loved, he never had the adults in his life compliment him, or encourage him, or help him when he got things wrong, so he does all these things double for Harry.

It makes him so incredibly happy to know that the little rascal is growing up with such a loving environment around him, and with so many people who care about him so viscerally. So who gives a fuck if it’s selfish, at least Harry gets to feel pure happiness every single day, and gets tucked into bed at night with forehead kisses and story times, and at least he knows what it feels like to be loved.

He can’t help himself when he leans over and scruffs up Harry’s hair, and honestly, darn Remus because now he can see the twinkle of admiration in Harry’s eyes even better. Sirius flicks him on the end of the nose, which makes Harry giggle, and they spin around the corner to continue with their shop.

“We need to remember to get some mint when we go back past the vegetables, so we can make some mint sauce. Do you think you can remember that, smarty pants?”

“I will try my best.” Harry smiles, standing up and facing the front of the trolly to point Sirius in the right directions, because he’s in charge here, that’s the rules, according to Harry. “Can we please get some pudding?”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Sirius smiled, “What are you thinking? Maybe some icecream? Or something warm?”

“Icecream with lots of toppings!” Harry shouted, turning back to look at Sirius, “Can we have strawberries and grapes?”

“Ooh, that sounds super yummy.” Sirius grinned, “And chocolate sauce and sprinkles too?”

Harry giggled, “Yes please.”

“Lead the way, captain!” Sirius bellowed out, and Harry turned to point him in the wrong direction, and they spent the next ten mineuts getting lost in the store.

By the time they got to the register, Sirius realised he’d forgotten the mint.

When Sirius raced back to the front of the store, to find Harry standing there anxiously with fully packed bags and an impatient cashier, he panted out a quick apology, scanned through the mint, and rushed Harry out of the store with their shopping.

“Sorry, Harry.” Sirius grumbled, switching the bags around in his hand to get a comfortable grip on them, “I know you hate being left up there by yourself.”

“She didn’t even want to talk to me!” Harry pouted, carrying a whole bag of shopping by himself. He looked like he was struggling with it, but when Sirius asked if he needed a hand, he promised he was strong enough to carry it himself.

“Well, she must have sucked. Some people are so boring, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.” Harry moped.

“But, if it’s any consolation, I bought you a giant sized lollipop like I promised.”

“Giant?” Harry asked, bewildered as he looked up at Sirius.

“Giant.” Sirius whispered back, like it was a wonderful secret, “It might even be bigger than you.”

Harry laughed so brightly, almost tripping over his own feet he was so distracted by it, “You’re so silly, Paddy.”

“I know, I know, I’m just the silliest.” Sirius laughed along with him, “You can eat it on the bus, if you want. But you won’t be allowed to eat it when your mum and dad come over, or they’ll get me in trouble for letting you have so much sugar.”

“Okay, I’ll keep a secret.” Harry whispered, absolutely delighted by the thought of keeping secrets from his parents.

“Good boy.” Sirius grinned down at him, “Come on, we’re almost at the bus stop.”

On the ride home, Sirius started up a game of I-Spy, which Harry roped a couple of teenagers on their way home from school into playing. They were two girls, each with hair bigger than their backpacks, who giggled whenever Harry said something adorable.

Sirius only stopped giggling with them when one of the girls made a comment about how Harry had a really cute dad too. Which of course, Harry didn’t pick up on and only corrected them the same way he had that old lady earlier today, but Sirius very pointedly didn’t continue any conversation with them out of pure discomfort.

On the short walk back from the bus stop to Sirius’ house, Harry started to struggle even more with his shopping bag. The big day had started to catch up with him, and the little boy started to get tired, tripping over his own feet and going unnaturally quiet. Not only that, but carrying an entire shopping bag whilst also trying to eat a jumbo lollipop seemed to be a very hard task.

“Oh, Harry, would you be able to grab my keys out of my pocket? I’ve got my hands full.”

“Me too!” Harry groaned. He had a tendency to get grumpy when he’s tired.

“Yes, yes, just put that bag down for a second- here, hand it to me, there you go.” Sirius nodded, taking the bag from Harry, “And hand me your lollipop- good boy.”

Harry reached into Sirius’ pocket and pulled out the house keys, finding the right one to stick in the door, “Got them.”

“Great job.” Sirius smiled, handing the lollipop back to Harry, but keeping the bag, “And there’s all your things back, good job. How about some I-Spy?”

“Okay.” Harry shrugged, too distracted to notice that Sirius had kept the shopping bag. It wasn’t very heavy, it just had a loaf of bread, the mint, some crisps, and a punnet of strawberries in it, but that was a lot for such a little boy. Sirius knew he wouldn’t give the bag up willingly, not wanting to look weak in front of his cool Uncle Padfoot, so Sirius has to get smart about these things.

Luckily, Sirius knows his nephew well enough to do these things smoothly.

They played a lazy game of I-Spy the rest of the short walk home, and Harry cheered up a little without the extra weight in his hands. He was pretty happy to be the one who unlocked the door when they got there, and ran inside to greet Libby the lizard.

Libby was a bearded dragon Sirius had purchased on a whim one afternoon about two years ago. He and Harry had been out on a walk and popped into the pet shop so Harry could look at all the puppies and kittens, and when he saw the lizard he thought it was so hilarious and cool that Sirius brought it for him.

When Lily found out, she was furious. James was laughing his arse off, just thankful it wasn’t a cow, because Harry had previously been asking for a pet cow and he knows how easily Sirius bends to Harry’s will, especially when he pulls out the puppy dog eyes.

Lily said Harry could keep the lizard if he wanted, but it had to live at Sirius’ house, so of course Sirius agreed. At age three, Harry had a pet lizard he named Libby because there wasn’t much else he knew how to say, and Sirius took care of it for him.

The pair quickly unpacked all the bags, gave Libby her dinner, and then had a little break after their big day of walking around. Sirius made them both some tea and biscuits, and Harry did some colouring whilst they chatted.

Sirius got started on the dinner preparations whilst Harry continued to do some colouring, still too tired to help out just yet.

In the lounge, they had Led Zeppelin playing on the record player, because they were one of Harry’s favorites. Immigrant Song is Harry’s favorite, he likes to sing along to the “Ah ah aahhhhh ah” part.

Mindlessly, Sirius chopped up the vegetables for roasting, singing and dancing along to the tunes vibrating through the house.

After flipping the record, very carefully, as he had been taught by his uncles, Harry pondered into the kitchen and stepped up on his little helping-out-stool, and layed all the veggies out on the tray and covered them in oil and seasonings.

“Very good job, Harry.” Sirius smiled, taking the lamb out of the packet, “Go wash your hands again and you can help me season the meat, yeah?”

“Okay.” Harry grinned and skipped off to clean up.

Whilst waiting, Sirius turned the oven on to preheat and washed his own hands at the kitchen sink. When Harry returned, they got to smothering the meat in seasonings together and plopping it on the rack over the vegetables.

“Now, whilst that’s cooking we’ll make up the mint sauce, and then that’s all done.” Sirius smiled, “Should we prepare dessert now as well?”

“I think so.” Harry nodded, “Then we can be more fancy, like a restaurant, when everyone gets here.”

“Right you are, Sprout.” Sirius winked at him, grabbing the mint out of the fridge and instructing Harry on how to help.

They pottered around each other, and Harry did a very good job of stirring the sauce as Sirius quickly diced up the strawberries for dessert. And once everything was done, they got started on setting the table.

Remus came home about midway through their process, smiling at the inviting smell of a roast dinner. The full moon was approaching, Remus was even more appreciative of a good lamb roast than ever.

“Hi, love.” Sirius smiled, wandering over to kiss his partner hello.

“Hi.” Remus melted, kissing Sirius’ cheek back, “I see I was right?”

Sirius groaned, “Shut up- don’t Harry and I just look so flash in our new glasses?”

“Oh, look at you!” Remus smiled as Harry started to show off a bit, “Two very handsome men, you are.”

Harry giggled, hugging Remus’ leg, “Thanks, Uncle Moony!”

“Now, go shower and change.” Sirius said, shoving Remus towards their room, “We’ve got dinner to cook and guests to greet. Go, go.”

“Cute apron.” Remus smiled, backing away, “Pinks certainly your colour.”

Sirius flipped him off, one hand subconsciously smoothing over the frilly apron James had jokingly gifted him one Christmas.

Harry dragged Sirius back into the kitchen just in time to pull the roast out of the oven, and it smelt delicious. So delicious in fact, that Harry actually started drooling as he stared at it.

Sirius laughed his arse off, quickly wiping the boys chin before it dribbled down his shirt.

Once they had both calmed down a little, and Harry’s embarrassment had subsided, they got to cutting up the meat and plating. Harry was very helpful in this process, using the little tongs in the shape of dog paws to dish out all the vegetables into serving bowls, as well as transferring the cut off slices onto a platter for easy serving.

Once the table was all set and ready, and Harry was satisfied with how everything looked, he rushed over to put on some good “eating dinner” music as their family started to arrive.

Together they all sat around the dinner table, Harry at the head with Sirius right beside him at his request, and shared a lovely meal together.

James was almost rendered to tears when Harry told him he picked the glasses that looked most like his dads. Sirius had to hold his hand whilst he sobbed over his carrots.

Once the meal was done, Harry begged for another sleep over at his Uncle Pads because they had the best time ever doing big people things tomorrow. Sirius, of course, agreed, and the both of them begged James and Lily for another sleepover. Besides, Sirius had more mundane things to do tomorrow, and Harry always finds a way to make those things fun.

☆ ★ ☆

Anyway, I love Sirius and Harry’s friendship and I also love the marauders just doing normal people things so I thought why not?

This was great because I haven’t been able to write in ages cause some personal shit happened and my mind has been mush ever since and I’ve had all these writing ideas but no motivation or energy to write so this was really really fun. I didn’t put too much energy or effort into it, you know, it’s a pretty basic fic but I still think it’s fun.

Thanks for taking the time to read! I’d really appreciate reblogs and comments, they always make my day <3

[aliensubstance-xxx]

Sanders Sides x GN!Reader HC (& some General ones)

ahhh forgive me if this is a bit clunky! I don't usually do stuff like this but I need to get it out of my brain hah

What they're like kissing you:

Logan is by far the best kisser of the bunch! He starts off a little robotic or unsure, but after a while he starts to experiment, figuring out what you like most and getting good at it.

Prepare to be completely breathless and kiss-drunk and for him to just stand up properly, readjust his tie and go about his day. He's got a schedule to keep, after all.

Patton is a very silly kisser, he likes to press kisses to any and all bare skin (and covered!) he can reach, and will grab hold of you and just smother you in kisses :)

Be wary if he goes anywhere near ticklish spots- he will blow raspberries there

Roman is so dramatic when he kisses you- it's all big gestures, like dipping you or picking you up and pinning you to the wall etc. He kisses you so deeply you could swear you hear a musical crescendo in the distance.

Unless he's feeling more mellow, in which he'll still kiss you deeply, but just...quieter and softer, tipping you up by the chin and just breathing in your space.

Virgil is, obviously, quite a nervous kisser. He'll never settle his hands- he wants to have them all over you at once, on your hips, on your shoulders, clutching your hands to his chest, in your hair, anywhere. He gets flustered quickly too, he'll kiss you deeply and then bury his face in your shoulder (You can feel the heat of his blush even through you clothes) until he can kiss you again.

Oh, and he's a biter. Don't be shocked if you manage to spend some time making out with him and you end up in teeth marks and hickeys (and sore lips)

Remus is...sloppy is probably the best way to describe it. He's passionate and enthusiastic, so much so that your kisses will be all teeth, tongue and spit.

He will also lick you. sorry.

Janus is actually quite the reserved kisser- he's a little embarrassed about his snake mouth when it comes to kissing (He'll never say it out loud.). He does want you to enjoy kissing him as much as possible, so maybe after some snake themed compliments he'll take off his gloves and pull you in by the hips.

Catch him by surprise with chaste kisses as much as you can- he'll make a pleased little rattle/hiss (like a purr?) out of surprise. It's very cute.

General HCs:

Small TW for, minor angst & mention on injury, innuendo and reference to genital piercings on the last one.

Despite being identical, they all actually have very small differences! That being said (and totally making sense)

Logan has the biggest hands- noticeably. Man's hands could wrap around your entire being with ease. ahem sorry. Moving on.

Roman is slightly more muscular (still chubby though. good lord), and has one or two scars he got while in the Imagination and decided to keep!

Janus, obviously, has his scales and his eye. His scales go cross his shoulders, elbows, hips and knees- he's also got a little forked tongue and a glottis under said tongue. (The glottis is what snakes have a the back of their throat- it helps them breathe while swallowing large prey...and in Janus' case-)

Virgil has two tattoos- a ring of thorns around his right finger (Right ring finger for individuality, thorns for hardship and struggle) and an earthworm on his left forearm (Rebirth, especially to do with the life cycle. and he thinks it looks cool. He wanted to get a spider but he didn't want to frighten Patton.)

Patton gets a little cut right under his heart whenever Thomas is genuinely heartbroken- he has a little collection of scars there.

Other than their lobe piercings, Virgil, Janus and Remus all have other piercings!

Virgil has an industrial on his left, his secondaries, and two conches on his right ear.

Janus originally had snake bites (when Thomas was a teen. Janus wasn't always as refined as he is now) and one helix piercing.

Remus' has however many piercings he wants on any given day- he takes them out every night and re-pierces however he sees fit every morning. (This includes his frenum piercing. On his willy. look it up but be warned for penis.)

That's all for now! If you liked my stuff and want to request something (minific, or more hcs) feel free to shoot me an ask :) hope you enjoyed.

[kaiserposting]

Michael Kaiser — On Your Knees

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2.9k TYPE: Humor, Teasing, ERM I think y/n and kaiser might like each other 🤓 WARNING: Suggestive sorry (flirting is only verbal but explicit at times)

Kaiser always looks alright with his hair wet. Not, like, stunning or anything, but passable. Then you know it’ll start standing up in weird ways after it dries a little and he’ll ask Ness to help him with it — which, embarrassing, by the way.

But anyway. You wanted to check out the communal bath after you took a shower, figured you���d be alone because it was already bordering on late, and Kaiser followed you because why wouldn’t he. Not like you value your peace and solitude or anything. He can be such a pest sometimes.

You were telling him what Isagi told you — it’s called a sento and apparently it’s different from the more popular onsen — and he said you weren’t ‘worldly’ and that you weren’t ‘impressing him’ and then some more about how ‘everyone knows this.’ Shithead. You should spit in his breakfast tomorrow, if you remember.

Well, you like sitting in the bath, at least, so you’re not too sour right now. Even Kaiser being right next to you can’t ruin it.

“I like this Raichi guy,” you say.

Kaiser shakes his head a little to show you he disapproves. “Don’t tell me you mingle with them. Also, the guy’s always benched. He’s second-rate.”

“No, listen, he was telling me about this sexy soccer motto he has. I really wanna know what it’s about.”

“You’re embarrassing. If you’re in my entourage, you should act like it.”

“Dude, you’re just mad at Isagi ‘cause he was trending on football twitter more than you were that day,” you say.

“I’m not!”

Very persuasive argument coming from him here. It’ll take a lot out of you to take it apart. He’s fuming about it, too. Maybe it’s not so bad Kaiser came along if you can poke fun at him.

“I don’t know why you’re the favorite on the team, anyway,” you say. “They all die over your corny tattoo and not to mention how much you love showing it off. Not cool at all.”

“You wish you were me. Now you’re being jealous because no one likes you, and it’s making you look even uglier than usual,” says Kaiser, seeming to believe himself if the smug look on his face is anything to go by.

“I mean, I had a girlfriend till recently, you know.” Kaiser rolls his eyes, but you ignore him. He’s always doing this, pretending he doesn’t want to hear you. “She had this botched blue dye job and said things like ‘pussy power,’ with the crystals in her room and the tarot cards and all.”

“Yeah? Sounds great. Did you pick her up after a match, loser?”

You click your tongue and wag your finger at him just to be annoying. “No, I don’t fool around with fans. Seems more like your forte.”

He flicks the offending finger away. “I’ve never done that, you slanderous pig.”

“No, but listen, she didn’t care about football at all. She didn’t even know what a scissor kick is. Ooh, she drove me wild.” You sing the last part, looking up at the ceiling fondly as if you’re recalling a warm memory.

Kaiser narrows his eyes at you, frowning. “You’re one strange individual.” And what a pompous way to put it.

“But anyway, wanna know what kinda tattoo I’d get?”

“I seriously don’t care.”

“A skull with two guns. Hard as fuck.”

“You’re so lame. It’s appalling, and also probably why you got dumped.”

He’s taking the tattoo thing seriously. At least seriously enough to insult you over it. He’s even snickering at you in amusement. His face is always, how can you put it… snide, but he does look a touch more evil when he starts grinning and shit. What a hoot, though. Really.

“Nah, there was this guy. He wore suspenders with plaid polos and these little sweaters over them. They were sustainable. Sustainable. Can you believe it? Sustainable! I didn’t stand a chance.” You poke him on the neck, already distracted from what you were rambling about. Kaiser is going to bring up your low attention span soon, you can smell it on him. It doesn’t take any effort to reach out, though, what with him sitting so close next to you. “This isn’t such a bad spot for a tattoo, actually. I don’t know, maybe you were onto something.”

“Paws off,” he says, swatting you away like a bug. A pedestrian bug, probably, at least in his imagination. “You really wanna fondle me that badly, you’ll use any excuse to do so?”

“Paws!” you repeat, clapping. “You’re hysterical.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes again. He seems to like to do that a lot, at least in your presence. If there was such a thing as competitive eye-rolling, you wager he’d be good at it, maybe even better than he is at football.

“No, but listen-”

“God, I hate it when you say that,” he interrupts with a groan, then contradicts himself by also swinging an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer just to yawn in your face with great exaggeration. The water is way too hot for this nonsense, so you push him away. “Because I never want to listen to you.”

“You’re crazy. Insane. It’s super clinical. Like, really.”

“Yes, I’m sure, unlike me, you’d pass a psychiatric evaluation because I’m crazy and you aren’t. Of course.”

“Imagine-”

“Can you stop topic-hopping?” Kaiser asks, annoyed. See, you knew he’d bring it up. “Does your head ever hurt with how much bullshit goes through it?”

You shush him. He scowls at you like you’re some mold growing in the bath, but you disregard his expression of disdain. “Imagine you’re having a nice day, I don’t know, at practice. Then I barge in with all of my asshole glory, right, and I walk up to you, and for no reason, I say, ‘On your knees,’ instead of greeting you. Isn’t that kinda deranged?”

Kaiser stares at you. To his credit, he’s decent at maintaining a poker face, but once he’s embarrassed, there’s no hiding it, no going back. Because no matter how much he does his usual male posturing or whatever it’s called, his face is all red, the blush even going up to his ears, mouth wavering the slightest bit. “W-What? In your dreams.”

“Oh, do you like getting bossed around or something?” you ask with the sensitivity of a numb toe. “That’s so pathetic.”

It’s quite the spectacle when his skin somehow becomes even more flush. Sick of your leering, maybe, Kaiser whips around, albeit not all the way, and covers his cheek with his hand while peering at you through his fingers. Finally, he decrees, “You suck,” with too much authority.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Forget about me, though. In that situation, do you spit or do you swallow?”

It’s unclear whether you’re getting any gratification out of this besides the satisfaction of flustering him, but you smile in amusement regardless. As if you care about Kaiser sitting there, looking all pretty and nervous because of some nonsense you’d been spewing. Not like you’re crazy about him or anything. That’d be ridiculous. You couldn’t be more unfazed if you tried.

You grab your towel with what you’d call impressive swiftness, then turn around and stand, covering yourself before preparing to go on your merry way. Kaiser pulls you back by the ankle, trying to trip you or something, the menace. Hilarious guy, really.

He is staring up at you in this petulant sort of way, grabbing onto his own towel with his other hand. “Why are you leaving so soon?” he asks, sounding peeved, as if you haven’t been here with him for an unreasonable amount of time already.

“I thought I should give you some privacy since you’re all hot and bothered now,” you say (with this douchebag laugh you have for situations like these, where you’re being a douchebag — self-explanatory), stepping out of his grip. Then you try to imitate his voice, but more high-pitched, accompanying your performance with a few vulgar hand gestures. “Oh, [Y/n], you slanderous pig! I think that’s what you’d sound like.”

“You’re such a lowlife,” he says, before all but leaping out of the bath and trying to maim you right here on the spot, and the only thing to save you from your demise is that he gets lightheaded and almost faints immediately after.

You reach out to pull him up and keep him steady, holding him by the arms. “You can’t be jumping out of the bath like that, man, come on.”

The lack of response concerns you, but after a while, Kaiser gathers his wits enough to say, “I’m going to make you slip, and I’ll be praying you split your head open.”

You burst out laughing. “Do it, then. You don’t have it in you, do you?”

Instead of doing as he promised to retaliate to your provocation, he settles for letting go of you and glaring, before clutching the side of his head and going still again. If there was any medical wing in this goddamn football contraption, maybe you would’ve taken him, but alas. At least you don’t need to worry about Kaiser too much since he eventually concedes and holds onto your arm for support.

The sight of you two stumbling around towards the changing room is probably comedic — uncoordinated as hell, covering yourselves with these flimsy little towels, using the hands not clutching at the other.

“You’re supposed to drink a lot of water before getting in,” you say.

“It’s your fault! You didn’t warn me we were going.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you weren’t invited. Jeez.”

“Oh, whatever.”

You return the tiny towel to the basket, swapping it for a bigger one and making quick work of drying yourself. You’re slipping on your shirt when you ask, “Is your head all right now?”

“I’m fine.”

When you turn around to judge whether he’s being truthful or not, he’s dabbing himself in a manner which is way more laborious, examining his reflection in the mirror as if he’s in some slow motion commercial where the camera will capture a conspicuous water droplet falling down his neck, admiring his jaw from different angles. He makes you sick sometimes.

“I’m not gonna wait for you to finish checking yourself out.”

He shoos you away with a dismissive wave of his hand. Unlike his, your actions most often align with your words, though, so you do walk out of the door. You’re not even ten steps in when Kaiser reappears, now magically dressed.

“Stop rushing,” he says, pushing you out of the way — and for no reason! There’s enough space for both of you in the hallway. You end up lagging a bit behind him. “I’m dizzy.”

“I thought you said-”

“Blah, blah,” he cuts you off, untying his hair and doing a bad job of smoothing it out with his fingers.

You’re rooming with him and Ness, so you’re already headed in the same direction. As much as this stinks, your other option was Gesner and Grim. God, is fucking Gesner obsessed with dick cheese. Of all things, that’s what he’s always talking about. Grim has your condolences, but the problem is out of your hands now.

“Your hairstyle’s ridiculous.”

Kaiser turns his nose up and smiles, coming off as pleased by the insult. “You can only wish to pull it off.” Always preening like a peacock. He’s entertaining. You swear he is.

You hook one of the ends, where it’s the bluest, around your finger, twirling it around and around. “I had a dream about you recently.”

“Aww, I’m on your mind even when you’re unconscious. I could vomit right now.”

“You were in the meditation position, but you were levitating, and the rat tails were holding you up.”

Maybe you’ve committed some kind of utmost offense, because he doesn’t even bother insisting they’re not rat tails this time. “Wow, those are the kinds of things you dream about me? Your brain is defective to the core.”

“What do you want me to dream about you, then? Are you implying something?”

He faces you, and he has this way of looking at you like you’re a blight on humanity. You have an urge to press your palms against his cheeks to check how warm they get when he blushes, but resist it. “You’re so delusional.”

He’s rolling his eyes again.

“Keep rolling them, see where it gets you.”

“What, are you implying something?” Kaiser asks, mocking you, but he seems kind of happy at the insinuation. You’re not about to point it out, though, having a semblance of self-preservation.

“But anyway, your hair,” you say. “It looks good for tugging on.”

He snorts, either at your audacity to speak such things out loud to him, or at the way you straight up ignored his question.

So you elaborate, just so he doesn’t get the wrong idea, “Yeah, like, I kinda wanna grab you and swing you around till you fly outta my grip.”

“What?! As if.”

“It’d be so funny, though.”

“Maybe to other stupid people like you. Dense people who always ruin the fucking moment, for example, that type of thing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, stifling a laugh before entering the room.

The lights are still on when you come in. Ness seems to be reading some kind of book, sitting upright and all. “Hey, guys. You were gone for a while.”

“We were,” Kaiser says, you assume just because he likes hearing himself talk. “All that time I can’t get back.”

You crouch down to get him a water bottle in case he forgot how dehydrated he was (or more likely decides he’s above getting it by himself). It’s rare for you to do something out of the goodness of your heart, so when you turn around to pass it and find him draping himself over the solitary bed — the one you won dibs on in an honest round of rock, paper, scissors — you swear to never do anything nice for him ever again.

“Hey, get off! It’s mine.”

“But I want it,” he whines, as if his word holds more weight than the aforementioned game of rock, paper, scissors, which, as already established, you won.

You’re about to make an earnest attempt at throwing him out of the bed until Ness comes to his defense. “Come on, leave him alone.”

Saying no to Kaiser is exceptionally easy. But going against what Ness is asking? You can’t get a read on the guy. He’s either way too happy most of the time, or is secretly plotting your murders for all you know. You toss the water bottle at Kaiser, leaving him to smirk at your relenting.

“By the way, do you mind if I turn the lights off after I do my nighttime routine in the bathroom? I’m kind of tired,” Ness says.

“Sure,” allows Kaiser. So generous and charming with a winning personality to boot, this guy.

You lean against the bunk bed and ask, “Oh yeah, why are you still up?”

“I thought it might be rude if I went to bed before you both came back, so I decided to wait.”

Damn, now you feel kind of bad for dilly-dallying for so long. You clutch your chest with a tasteful sense of drama. “You’re so perfect. Hey, Ness, you wanna take the top bunk?”

“Wow, really?”

“Why not at this point,” you say. After all, Ness came in second in the game, but gave it up to Kaiser, and he ruined everything already.

“Thanks!” He grins at you before rushing off to do his business, almost blinding you with the sweetness he emits. Your gaze trails after him until he leaves the room.

Kaiser is looking at you with a mix between scorn and disgust when you walk over to his side to retrieve your phone from the bedside table, but you pretend not to notice.

Figuring you have nothing better to do, you take Ness’s previous spot, lying down on your stomach, ready to check your notifications. In your peripheral vision, you see Kaiser take his shirt off theatrically, then he has the fucking nerve to throw it at you. He makes such a big show out of existing.

It’s probably more painless to throw him a glance now than to be stubborn, so you exhale out of your nostril in resignation and turn your attention back to him. Kaiser props himself on his elbow while reclining on his side, posing on the bed, gracing you with a bastard smile. Almost presenting himself like a Renaissance painting you’re supposed to admire in some chaste, intellectual kind of way.

“Wanna know something?”

“What?” he asks, apparently irritated since you don’t seem so appreciative of him right now.

“I think shitty, obnoxious guys like you need to be put in their place,” you tell him.

It really is way too obvious on his complexion when he starts getting shy. He’s like a breathing mood ring. It’s almost fascinating. For a second, Kaiser is incredulous, but then he turns smug again, addressing you with a sense of challenge. “Don’t even joke. You’re not really about it like that. All you do is talk.”

You think you’re gonna start having even more fun together after today.

___

No homo I HATE HIM 😍

[ohcorny]

i need to be a hater on main about scavenger's reign or i will explode. i cannot be alone in this.

now that it's being moved to netflix and people are talking about it again, all i'm seeing is glowing praise and absolutely no criticism of the writing. i will gladly agree with anyone that it's visually stunning. like, a+ in that regard no argument. great looking show, and the worldbuilding of the planet vesta is super cool and clearly considered. i like those parts! but that seems to be all anybody is responding to when they praise it.

the character writing is fucking ridiculous. i could point at any of them individually and go "what the fuck is this" but it's been months since i watched it and i don't like arguing a point i can't clearly remember. but it was the most egregious around ursula so i'm going to focus on her. her character seems to exist just to cause problems for no reason, to the point where she's also the only character we get no backstory on. we never see her in flashbacks on the ship, never learn what she did for it or why she was there, nothing about her at all. she is the only one.

and she is the #1 source of shattering my suspension of disbelief. you cannot tell me that she and sam were surviving together for a month on this incredibly hostile planet, working together every day to call the ship down, to figure out how the world worked and what was dangerous and what they could use.... and then tell me she would turn around and treat him the way she does.

spoilers below the cut

she is so hostile toward him all the time for no reason. she wanders off to go look at a weird plant in the middle of a bramble that crushes you if you don't get out the right way, leaving sam alone on the outside with no idea what she's doing or where she is or if she's alive. and when she comes out and he is VERY REASONABLY upset that she did that and isn't interested in hearing about the thing she saw, SHE gets mad at him and says she doesn't need him.

YOU DONT NEED HIM? THE GUY WHO HELPED YOU SURVIVE THIS ENTIRE TIME? THE ONLY OTHER LIVING HUMAN ON THE PLANET AS FAR AS YOU KNOW, WHO IS THE ONE WHO KNOWS WHERE YOU ARE GOING, AND HAS THE CREDENTIALS TO GET YOU INTO THE SHIP? you have been alone with him for a MONTH, he is your ONLY HUMAN COMPANION, and you think you DON'T NEED HIM?? BECAUSE HE WAS WORRIED ABOUT YOU IN A LOUD WAY?

this could be explainable if there was any real tension between them, or if we're given any reason to believe she actually could survive without him, but there isn't! she fucks up with the spores in the very first episode and would absolutely die if she was alone. sam is never anything but a good leader to her and keeps trying to look out for her, and any time he's "wrong" it's because he showed reasonable caution about the fuckplanet. he gets hurt by the egg parasite because he didn't want to climb into a giant animal's egg sac. reasonable thing to not want to do! when he and ursula get into that argument about her disappearing on him, he gets hauled off by the weird emu for the dramatic irony. because he was upset his only companion in the world disappeared. he never does anything wrong. it's never his actual character flaws that he gets punished for, it's only ursula's ~trusting your instincts~ shit that ever gets him hurt. she is ultimately responsible for his death but the show never acts like it.

so much of the show seemed to be drama for drama's sake. do not get me fucking started on kamen's creature. what was that thing's fucking problem. what was kris' fucking problem?

if i have to ask 'what is their PROBLEM' at every other character's choices, your writing is not good.

[tristomisto]

I didn’t know how much I needed Jonathan Sims to ridicule my decision making skill.

This game felt like a dream come true and was so my vibe, I can’t wait to find all the branching paths but man those endings…

Spoilers from my playthrough and the game’s ending below

TW: Some Gore talk

So my goal was to be as non-violent as possible (almost always choosing to leave the dagger), and while it’s likely you can get this dialogue anyway, it made me weak.

To have a divine entity tell me “you have a gentle heart” when I told it I didn’t want to hurt it anymore. Floored me.

The game also captivated me in the way the voices worked. Because it’s the same way I hear voices in my head. They don’t have control over me, (unlike the game) I know they are fictional and they are more of a nuisance then anything. They just pop in and out to say their piece, even if I don’t want to hear it. I prefer to think of it as my conscience trying to get through to me in a different way.

Any way back to the game, I made a save right before confronting the narrator and got to see most of the endings (I think).

My first was getting back to the cabin with the Voice of the Hero. I left the dagger upstairs to go to the Princess and figure out what happens next. I always asked for her name, and never got one other than then what the entity called itself, The Shifting Mound.

But the Princess gave me a name, she called me Quiet (due to you actually being a god called the Long Quiet, which was a really cool twist). I found the nickname adorable, so in my head I started calling her Shift. My choice, as always was ever the peaceful option.

I told her we could just leave, and she trusted me. I thanked the Voice of the Hero, who stayed behind to look for the others when we decided to leave. Then together, the Princess and I opened the door, and we’re left to interpret what happens next. I think this is the “good” ending or at least mine.

I also love any ending in which the Princess is given agency. If you bring the dagger downstairs to her at the last scene, she offers to stab you with it. Doing so will reset everything back to the beginning of the game, in the hope that things will be different the next go around and the world won’t end. And even if it isn’t, at least they will find each other here at this moment again and again, and both make the same decision.

I love this ending, especially due to the explore options before taking it. I remember saying something along the lines of “I’ll miss you.” And she says I won’t have to, because when I come back, she’ll be right there waiting for me, even if she doesn’t remember.

I also quite enjoyed the endings of becoming gods together. While it’s still good, I think arguably the ending I personally don’t like is the Narrator’s want which is slaying the princess at the end.

In terms of individual branching paths, I love the spectre ending where you let the princess possess you as a ghost, the “hey killer” really got to me. The one where she becomes like a demon girl and just wants to fight is really funny until it gets really sad.

I was also cooked from the beginning because my first path when she started to gnaw her arm off, it unnerved me for a few seconds before I was like “well if I was trapped with no way out I’d probably end like this too.” Then the huge puppy dog eyes she has whenever you’re helping her remove her arm.

Overall 10/10 I love this game so much, and having Jonathan sims as all the voices in my head was a real treat. Will get all the achievements eventually!

And the first romance ending was so funny because I hear Archivist Jonathan Sims narrating with a bunch “ews” the whole time. IM SORRY JON IF I MEET AN ENTITY I WILL GREET IT WITH LOVE AND UNDERSTANDING. I know she started to gnaw off her own arm but I get it!!!

[tunastime]

Sunset in the Heart of that Green Valley

started drumming up an au accidentally with some input from the mutuals beloved. told myself it wasn't going anywhere but this so I had to stick as much as I could into just. this. I SWEAR. < lying

Bdubs can't remember a part of his life without Etho--no matter the shape or profession, the danger or lackthereof. It was always Etho, and himself, and this wild, wasted world. Or, Bdubs watches his cows on the farm. Etho joins him on his horseback ride around the perimeter fence.

(4111 words)

It's a long, slow ride a mile from the wire fence and sparse tree line that borders the ranch. It's nothing but cool wind and wiregrass for miles, soft green and brown as the spring starts to roll in. Soon enough the field will be full of baby calves and their healthy mamas, big brown eyes and full stomachs. Horses too—lots of 'em, kind natured but tough, enough to fight you but not enough to bite the hand that feeds 'em. He'll be able to lift a foal into his arms to stand it upright and watch its mother nose his armpit and look at him with those soft brown eyes. For now, BdoubleO takes that long ride along the border, listening to cicadas sing in the trees. That's not the only thing singing though. Besides the breathing of his horse beneath him and the cattle dog that runs ahead, is the soft, mellow voice of his partner, Etho, humming indistinctly. 

He has his head turned toward the tree line, eyes scanning listlessly for any sign of movement. Just a couple of weeks ago, they lost a handful of chickens to a fox, a thing neither of them could stand to kill even as they went looking for it. From where he rides next to him, Bdubs can see the holster for his revolver strapped tight to his thigh. He's never actually seen the gun, for what it's worth. Not in action. Not even the smell of gunpowder on Etho's leather work gloves. He's only ever watched his thin, strong, meticulous hands clean the individual parts and put it back together. It makes sense why Etho's focus is so drawn to that tree line. He probably doesn’t want it to happen again.

Bdubs watches the curve of his shoulders under the off-white button-up he's wearing. It's loose at his elbows and under his arms, but from the way he slouches, hat tipped back to cover his neck, it's tight across his back. Bdubs sighs—for a moment, that's the only thing that breaks the silence. Bdubs' longing rings out in the stale air, and a chuckle joins the hum of that wordless melody.

"Somethin' the matter, 'dubs?" Etho says, glancing over. He can just hear him through the scarf tucked around his face, tied behind his neck. His hair is tucked under his hat, tied away nearly the same. Its just his eyes, warm and smiling, eyebrows raised, when he looks over. Bdubs scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"No," he says. "Nothin's the matter. What's it to ya, anyway?"

Etho shrugs. He shuts his eyes for a second when he does. Bdubs can picture the little frown on his face when he does.

"Figured I'd ask," he says cooly. "That was a pretty profound sigh."

"Nothin' for you to worry about," Bdubs gripes. He taps Lacey with his heels and she meanders forward, huffing out through her nose. He hears Etho laugh as he pulls away, and it's only a second before Etho's at his side again. He tugs Bdubs' hat over his eyebrows.

"Don't be like that, 'dubs!" Etho pouts. "You sounded upset."

"Quit teasin' me," Bdubs grumbles, swatting at him with the hand not wrapped around the reigns. Lacey patters to a stop as Bdubs slackens on the reigns, trying to grab Etho's hat. Etho ducks his head.

"Bdubs!" He laughs, pushing his hands away.

"Quit!"

"You quit!"

Bdubs huffs again, shrinking back, then straightens. Etho's turned away from him, all of a sudden. Bdubs goes to speak, but as he does, he hears Etho say something so quiet it's felt more than heard. 

It's sunset, he's just realized. The orange light leaks through gaps in the trees, casting gold bars over the wheatgrass and dry dirt. He can see light blue leaking into orange, pink, yellow, blending into white clouds above him. This time, the profound sigh whistles out of Etho's chest. Bdubs bites his tongue. Haloed by the gold light, Etho looks like the type of things only lonely cowboys dream about. The perfect outlaw, or the hardworking ranch hand, or the kindhearted sheriff looking for love. The things you read in dime novels, no matter the flavor of romance. Bdubs feels his heart squeeze, the want pooling in his elbows and the joint of his hips. He won't sigh again, or make any other sound, not as long as Etho watches the sunset. 

"Wow," Etho mumbles. His horse snorts. Etho huffs a laugh, reaching just far enough to pet between his ears. "Wow..."

"It's gorgeous," Bdubs says. He'd be lying if he said he was talking about the sunset.

Etho turns back to him after a beat. Bdubs's eyes flick up to his face, tilting his head a little as Etho's soft eyes linger on him. He can see the indistinct scarring up part of his face, near his eye and eyebrow. Tugging off his gloves, Bdubs raises a careful hand up to Etho's face. There, he tucks two fingers in the space between his cheek and the scarf over his face, and tugs it down. Etho doesn't stop him. In fact, he's smiling just so when Bdubs does. He's got nothing to hide, really—the scarf is for the dust, more than anything else. He scrunches his nose as the scarf falls around his neck.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Bdubs says softly. His hand cups Etho's cheek, thumb smoothing over the rough, scarred skin of his left cheek. Fire. They're all healed burns. His thumb dances over them anyway, like he'd never seen them or brushed them or kissed them before. Two long strands of hair frame Etho's face. Here, Bdubs tucks one of them behind his ear, still moving to cradle his face. The look that passes over him makes Bdubs' stomach fold over. He's smiling, wide and soft, and his eyes shut as he leans into Bdubs' palm.

"Hiya, Bdubs," Etho mumbles. His voice hits a low octave as he whispers. Bdubs flushes. Etho's hand falls to Bdubs' hip, both steadying for himself and for Bdubs' balance, thumb pressed into his hipbone as he leans forward into Bdubs' space. Etho's hand comes to tip his hat back as far as it'll go before it knocks from his head, scrunching up his nose as Bdubs' flush grows a little warmer, a little further over his cheeks and ears. He's smiling, though, and so is Etho. Bdubs can't help it—he was just so damn handsome, that stupid cowboy. Damn him. He keeps himself lingering in Etho's space for a beat longer, tracing out the high of his cheek with his thumb. The sun's still setting, warm and orange behind him. He can't even see stars yet. 

"Can we stay?" Bdubs asks, sighing out his nose. His eyes flick behind Etho's shoulder for a moment, watching the bars of light through the trees. "Just to watch?"

Etho smiles, his eyes going all soft and round like they do when Bdubs says something he particularly likes. Must've liked that, then. He noses Bdubs' palm just a little, looking up into the sky before settling on Bdubs' face again.

"Sure," Etho mumbles. "Why not? Stars haven't even come out yet."

Bdubs grins, knocking their foreheads together, a soft laugh bubbling up in his chest before it leaves him with his exhale. Etho scrunches his nose. 

Leaning forward as far as he can, Etho kisses him. His warm, gloved hand fits over the back of his neck, brushing through the close cropped hair there. His lips are chapped from the dusty air, but they're dry and warm and Bdubs feels Etho hum against his mouth. He presses back and up into him, free hand falling to his knee to stabilize himself. Etho pulls in a fast breath through his teeth and kisses him again, firm but gentle. Bdubs shuts his eyes and keeps them shut, feeling Etho's hand curl against the base of his skull, feeling them work in tandem with each other. It's nice and easy and tender in a way that curls up in Bdubs' chest and rests there, calmly. It's sweeter than anything else he knows, or damn near close to it. 

He smiles against his lips, dragging his thumb in a slow line across the rippled scar on his cheek. He's so gentle with him, Etho is, as he is with Etho, up until the point of course that they're chasing each other around on foot and on horseback and scrapping in the dirt just to prove a point. But here it's intentional. Bdubs rubs his cheek and that scar so Etho knows he wants to feel it He wants to feel where it starts at the high of his cheekbone and ends just under the low dip of his eye, how the uneven surface gives to smoother skin, how it’s all patches of rough and light. He wants to see that it cuts through his eyelid and eyebrow and that the eyebrow never really grew back and his hearing wasn't always that good in that ear. He wants to. He loves him. To love Etho was to love each thing he called an imperfection. 

"I'll be damned, cowboy," he mumbles under his breath. Etho laughs, just a little, from somewhere high in his chest.

"What's that?" he asks, crushing his cheek into the heel of Bdubs' hand. Bdubs shakes his head.

"Nothin', gorgeous."

"Mmh," Etho agrees. Bdubs can tell his face is warm from more than just the desert heat. 

"You liked that, mm?" he says. He leans up to kiss Etho just once, sighing out through his nose.

Etho nods, stilted, still flushing as Bdubs draws himself and his hand away. There's a moment that Etho's hand stays warm and solid on his hip and the back of his neck. His dark eyes sweep over him, the clouded vision of his left still trying to focus on Bdubs' face. A soft smile lingers on his face, lifting the edges just enough to form the smile lines Bdubs loves to kiss. They're there more often than not, still fading as Etho's face softens, as he takes care to wash the grime off and soothe his skin with beeswax. They linger for a second before they, and Etho, draw away, settling back on his saddle and sitting up. He stretches, screwing up his expression as Bdubs hears his spine pop.

"Augh," he vocalizes. Bdubs snorts as Lacey does, shuffling her hooves in the dry grass. 

"Let's get a move on then, old man," Bdubs teases, reaching for his reins and to prod the soft of Etho's knee. Etho jerks, trotting his horse a step away from Bdubs hands. There, he sticks out his tongue, fixes his hat, and tucks the bandana around his nose again. There's that familiar shape—sheriff to outlaw, the line of Etho's eyes honing his gaze to razor sharp. Bdubs sighs, letting himself laugh, before he jerks his head forward, pushing his hat back onto his head. He prods Lacey with the heels of his boots and she steps forward into a jog.

Above his head, the wink of stars begin to shine in the dull, pale blue sky. He can still see the lick of orange light like flames above the treeline, cascading over the red-grey and sparse green hills, framing Etho in a delicate picture. Bdubs grins, eyes settling on his partner behind him. He sees Etho's eyes squint as he presumably smiles. Nudging a little more, Bdubs brings Lacey up to a trot, and further to a canter as he hears Etho laugh, loud and clear across the planes, behind him.

In the distance, he can see the warm cast of oil lamps they lit before they left. As much as Bdubs' bones crave the man not even a few yards behind him, they ache for the cool halls of their house, warm coffee, and the light he can just barely catch in the rising night.

Later that night, Bdubs scrapes congealed fat out of the cast iron skillet Etho cooked in. His body and stomach are heavy with the meal they’ve just finished, beans and pork and cornmeal grits, the taste of whatever last few seasonings Etho had thrown in still lingering between his teeth. He scrubs the pan in the hot water, feeling out what were nicks in the pan and what was dirt. He’d hate to ruin the seasoning they’d just built up on the pan. He raises it from the soapy water after a moment, giving it a good shake as his eyes track over the dusty-grey surface. Clean as can be. As he finishes, toweling off his hands as he lays the skillet to dry, he turns back to the room behind him. 

It’s starting to smell a bit like coffee and a bit like woodfire smoke, the embers of their fireplace and stove fire still filling the room. Etho has tucked himself on the couch, knitted blanket draped over his shoulders and a book open on his folded legs. That was one thing about the desert that Bdubs never got used to—it got cold quickly. The air seeped the heat right out of the ground, right underneath your feet, as soon as the lick of sunshine from the day was gone. Etho had the right idea, curling himself into the smallest spot on their worn couch, blanket drawn tight around him, enough to where only his socked feet poked out. He’d tied his long hair up and away from his face, stark white locks delicately balanced on the top of his head. Bdubs hums as he wanders over. 

Etho picks up his head, blinking slowly at him. His gaze seems far away as it pins on him.

“Hi, Etho,” Bdubs says, scrunching up his nose. “You fall asleep on me after dinner?”

“Mm?” Etho questions. He shakes his head. “No, no, never.”

Bdubs snorts. As he stands beside the front of the couch, Etho’s hand comes out, his cold fingers wrapping around Bdubs’ wrist. Bdubs makes a small, startled sound, but lets Etho tug him forward and onto the couch beside him. He was deceptively strong—it was the one thing nobody would guess about him. Well—maybe not the only thing. Etho’s life, much like his own, was so different compared to the docile, almost domestic, ranch life they’d build together. Bdubs sinks into the couch cushions, and not even a beat later, Etho leans his back against his arm. Bdubs’ hum peters into a giggle.

“Y’know,” he starts. “I’m not sure I believe you. I think you might me lyin’ to me, Etho.”

“Mm? About what?”

Bdubs shrugs.

“Dunno, you looked pretty dang tired a second ago.”

Etho shakes his head, leaning back a little further. Bdubs gets the message. He shifts around until his leg hooks under Etho’s arm, until Etho can settle back and rest his head and back against Bdubs’ chest. The book rests on Etho’s shins now, all but forgotten as Etho tips his head back to take a look at Bdubs behind him. He seems satisfied with what he sees, because he shuffles to get comfortable.

“I don’t know about that,” Etho drawls, a smile tugging at his mouth. Bdubs scoffs. He kisses the top of Etho’s head, hands cupping around his ears to hold his head still. He feels that smile tug at his cheeks a little more and nuzzles his head for good measure.

“Alright,” he placates. “I’ll believe you for now.”

Etho hums, satisfied.

“Good.”

Bdubs lets his hands fall to Etho’s shoulders. As Etho reaches to pick up his book from his lap, Bdubs shifts him a bit more, sitting upright. His hands fall to Etho’s upper back, before he starts to shift his hair, unweaving it from where it had balanced atop his head. Etho seems to pick up on his message, sitting forward a bit as Bdubs begins to comb his fingers through Etho’s white hair. 

It’s much longer than it’s ever been, Bdubs thinks—it must be. He doesn’t think it’s ever been past his shoulders when they were together before, and definitely not when Etho was a sheriff. He’d never get away with hair past his shoulders. It was bad enough that he got so many nasty scars from scrapes and threats and whatever people threw at him. Bdubs smooths his hand down the back of his neck, feeling out the base of his skull. It’s painful to think of what Etho had to get through to get here. His hair must be a testimony to that, the fine, white-blond strands reaching to just past his shoulderblades. Bdubs is careful as he weaves his hands through, tucking stray strands behind Etho’s ears, combing back from his widow’s peak to the base of his head. 

He was a criminal before he was a sheriff—Bdubs remembers that. He remembers it because he was one, too. Pretty damn good. It was hard, though. Hard on Etho, who was just trying to do something with his life, to put his artistry to work, his craftsmanship. When he finally landed a job, the gang was already falling apart. He wasn’t even the first to leave—someone left for a damn sheriff. And Bdubs had laughed, then. He watched Etho set his hat on Bdubs head and felt those now memorized, strong hands squeeze his shoulders. 

He found him again when Etho walked past the tiny 3-by-3 cell Bdubs had managed to worm his way into. Wasn’t that a sight for sore eyes? The fine line of Etho’s jaw cuffed by a high collared marshal's uniform, badge and all, hat pulled low over his eyes. He hadn’t meant to lock himself up in there, but as soon as he was out, he promised Etho he’d never go back. And he never did. He sat himself at the strong wooden desk catty-corner to Etho’s and dispensed justice like he’d never done a wrong deed in his life. They were fair, though. Nothing but fair. No blood but on their teeth or nose or throat. No blood on their hands.

Etho sighs warmly as Bdubs starts to braid his hair. He keeps a firm hold on the strands he weaves in and out of each other, working slowly and carefully as he absorbs himself in thought. He was there for a lot of Etho’s life. But he wasn’t there when Etho got his scar. He only saw it afterwards, during that first time he saw him from that cell. 

Etho had described it late one night, after all was said and done between them, their bodies pressed so close in the same, small bed in Etho’s home that there wasn’t a molecule of space left. He’d let Bdubs trace the valleys and ridges of the burnt skin, tucked his face into Bdubs neck to breathe out a wet sigh. Coals and fire—not an accident like Bdubs had always presumed. He’d weaseled himself out of their gang of bandits, but it’s not always that the life of bandits leaves you. He’d messed up an order for another group, he’d said, when he finally got a job as a metalsmith. Too few bullets. It was a lie. He’d known from the shape of the man's mouth as he’d spoken it, but his face found the furnace regardless. Hot ash, coals, smoke in the back of his throat. It had been a long time since he’d been really able to see out of that eye. It hurt to read. It was too blurry to focus. 

Now, Bdubs knows, Etho focuses and reads just fine. And Bdubs drags his fingers over his skin like it were any other part of him to touch. And touch he did. Hey! He wasn’t ashamed of himself! He spent a good few years loving this man and he was allowed to love him right and true. Whatever Etho wanted, Etho could have. He’d build him a terracotta and tile ranch house, with darkened oak and stained wood floors, a fireplace big enough to hang a kettle in, horses, cows, dogs, cats, wheatfields tall enough to lose himself in. The rolling hills of the valley were endless. They’d find a homestead, a life, friends, family, anywhere they went. And so they went. And they found the ones they’d loved all along just as they thought they would. 

Bdubs cards his fingers through the braided hair for a final time, letting it hang loose and wavy around Etho’s shoulders. He instead maps the rise of his spine with his palm, listening to Etho hum and feeling his heartbeat.

“How’s your book?” Bdubs asks softly. Etho nods.

“Good,” he says, just as quiet. “It’s a real tough read, ‘Dubs.”

Bdubs glances over his shoulder as Etho leans back into his chest, trying to catch a glimpse at the cover. Etho’s tucked the book under his knee, though. He can’t even peek at the type of book it is.

“Mm?” he says. “Is that so?”

“Mmmhm,” Etho drawls. “I’m real deep into some equations that I can’t wrap my head around. It’s this long complicated thing that’s supposed to help determine scale and size of the fractal-izing of light, and how we can use planetary distances to figure it out.”

Bdubs blinks, scoffing. 

“Etho,” he hums.

“I’m trying to figure out how this could be relevant for our growing seasons and how I can best predict rainfall in the valley—”

“Etho—”

“And I’m sure Tango will want to know all about it considering he’s making that huge telescope, don’t you think—”

Bdubs thwaps his head laughing.

“Quit!”

Etho laughs, reaching back to grab at Bdubs hands on his head. They swat uselessly at each other for a moment.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you, Etho?” Bdubs grumbles.

“You’re just jealous because I understand math,” Etho jeers. “It has nothing to do with how smart I am.”

“Sure it doesn’t,” Bdubs huffs. “I bet you read the almanac in your spare time!”

Etho gasps, but the gravitas and dramatic turn he does to worm away from Bdubs is enough to hint that he’s doing it for a reason. He scrambles back, tucking his book behind him as he does. Blue cover. Bdubs doesn’t know many books with a blue cover. Maybe it is the almanac after all.

“How dare you insult my knowledge of flowers, Bdubs!” Etho gasps. “I just know all those things.”

“All those things about the regional weather, too?”

Etho nods, trying to hold back a smile. Liar.

“Mhm,” he says. “All of it. I’ve known it since I was a wee little boy, ‘Dubs.”

Bdubs rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure,” he placates. “Nothin’ to do with how we just moved here a year and a half ago, no?”

Etho shakes his head.

“Not at all. I’ve known it all my life,” Etho says. He can’t fight the smile this time, or the way he draws out the a of his word, his smile growing with it. He finally cracks enough to giggle and Bdubs swats his knee. Etho sticks his tongue out at him.

“And what’s the almanac say about me?” Bdubs asks, watching Etho shuffle back into his corner, looking comfortable. He tilts his head a little, eyebrows furrowing.

“You?” Etho says. “I don’t know. Nothing—I’ve never read it. I doubt they put people in it.” Then Etho smiles, adding: “I can check my book on 100 facts about B-double-O, though.”

Bdubs startles.

“Your book on what?”

Etho snorts, tipping his head back, laughter bubbling out of him. Bdubs jabs him with his socked foot and Etho curls further into himself, still giggling. Bdubs can’t help but smile, though, watching Etho break into a giggling fit over his stupid comment. He rolls his eyes as he peels himself off the couch and over to their bookshelf. Standing there for a moment, feeling the cold seep slightly into his clothes, Bdubs scans for a book. He isn’t sure what he’s looking for yet, but he’ll know it when he sees it. 

In the meantime, he halfway searches for that obviously fake book Etho had mentioned. He snorts, just to himself. A hundred facts, huh?

Plucking one of his well-worn novels from the shelf, Bdubs turns back to the couch. He drops a kiss to the crown of Etho’s head as he passes and Etho is quick enough to pull him down to kiss his cheek. It’s worth it, though, as Bdubs tucks himself back against the other side of the couch and Etho’s legs tangle with his. He loves the stupid smile on Etho’s face too much to care about much else.

[parkerdoeswriting]

Walking Back Home

(Peter Parker x GN Reader)

category: fluff (?) oneshot

summary: Spider-Man has been making sure no one bothers you on your walks home. 

warnings: kinda stalking??? but not stalking stalking (Peter is your best friend and has no other intentions then admiring his crush from afar and making sure you get home safely

word count: 961

A/N: wrote this with TASM!Peter in mind, but works for any which one i guess

It’s dark outside the streets of NYC as you pass streetlights and closed shops. You had been studying with Peter all day and were now walking home. It was quite a cold night, shivering in your thin zip up hoodie as you made your way. Your eyes darted around to make sure there weren’t any individuals following you, your hands clutching onto the straps of your backpack. 

You swear you can hear a quiet THWIP behind you, causing you to look around again for the cause of the noise. That’s when you see a dart of a familiar red and blue suit in the corner of your eye, the suit of an individual that’s been “secretly” following you all week long. You roll your eyes, knowing that the individual is quite relatively harmless, the protector of New York’s citizens. You’ve grown to like him, which is weird considering he doesn’t have an actual face. 

Without thinking, you swing into the nearest alleyway, ducking behind a garbage can, hatching a plan so you can have a talk with the infamous Spiderman. 

To your satisfaction, he had looked into the alleyway from up above and hadn’t seen you, causing him to land in the alleyway and wonder where you went. He looks around for you, turning his back on where you were hidden. 

You swiftly grab a textbook from your bag, using it as a defense against the stranger in the alley. You tiptoe towards the figure, textbook armed, ready to strike. The man swings around quickly, almost like he’d known you’d do that, using his webs to disarm you.

“Woah woah woah” he puts his hands up as if to surrender to you. 

“Who are you?!” you shout at him, spooked from his webs. 

“S-Spiderman!” he replies, staying calm. 

“Why do you keep following me?” your brows furrow as you speak.

“Uh I- I don’t know what you mean” he tries to act nonchalant, his hand going up to scratch his neck. 

“All week you’ve followed me when I’m walking outside, don’t act like you haven’t!” you huff, crossing your arms. 

“Fine… fine! I have been following you” he says nervously. 

“Why?!” you exclaim.

“Because I- I like you and I want to make sure you’re safe” he confesses, stumbling over his words. 

Your eyes widen as you feel the heat rushing to your face, his confession shocking you to your core. The Spiderman likes- you? You stare at him in disbelief, your mouth hanging open.

“Anyways- this is awkward” Spiderman adds, laughing awkwardly, backing away slightly. 

“You… you like- me?” You say slowly, making sure you fully understood what he said. 

He nods slowly, fidgeting a bit as he waits for response. 

“Why?” you cock your eyebrow, taking a step forward. 

“Well ah- you’re cool and very- nice looking and-” he stops his sentence, nervously scratching his neck again.

You feel yourself smiling uncontrollably, looking down at your feet. 

“Sorry, this is probably really weird, having Spider-Man confessing this to you” he laughs softly. 

“I kinda like you too” you blurt out, blushing softly. 

Now it’s Spider-Man’s turn to look shocked, or as much shocked someone with a mask covering their face can look. 

“Don’t act like that, you’re gonna make me nervous” you frown playfully. 

He laughs again, rocking back and forth on his feet as he looks at you. 

“Nice” he replies nervously, giving me a thumbs up. 

“Nice?” Now it’s your turn to laugh, rubbing your face with your hands as you do. 

“I mean- uh” he stumbles, trying to find words. 

Your phone rings in your pocket, your hand dishes it out so you can look at the caller id. 

It’s your mum. 

“Shit” you curse under your breath, answering the phone as you notice it’s past the time you said you’d be home. 

“Hi mum” you say with the sweetest voice you can muster, staring into Spider-Man’s comically wide eyes. 

“Where are you? Are you okay?” she asks nervously on the other line. 

“Yes yes, sorry, me and Pete got caught up in studying” you respond. 

You can see Spiderman head perk up when you say this, but you don’t pay it much mind. 

“Okay, please hurry up okay?” she says. 

“Mhm, see you soon” you smile into your phone, kissing the speaker before hanging up. 

You and him awkwardly exchange glances for a while, smiling softly. 

“Um, if you want, I can swing you home?” He suggests, stepping close towards you. 

“If you don’t mind!!” You respond eagerly, pulling up your address on your phone, showing him. 

He nods eagerly as his arm snakes around your waist, your hands subconsciously wrapping around his neck. 

“Hang on, it’s my first time doing this” he says, aiming his arm up. 

“What do you mean it’s your f-!” you begin to say, getting interrupted by your scream as he shoots up. 

You instinctively grasp onto his neck tighter, burying your face into the crook of his neck. Internally screaming as your stomach does flips, you can feel Spider-Man’s arm wrapping tighter around your waist protectively. 

After a few minutes of swinging, you both carefully land in another alleyway around your house. You take a deep breath as your feet finally touch the ground, making eye contact with Spider-Man once again. 

“Thanks” you smile, holding onto your backpack straps. 

“No problem” he says, rubbing his neck again. 

You look towards the opening on the alley way before looking back to him, giving him a swift kiss on his masked cheek before heading for the exit. 

“Find me soon!” You shout back at him, waving as you disappear into the night. 

As you vanish from sight, he rips off his mask. Spiderman smiles widely, or rather, Peter Parker smiles widely.

[kitasgloves]

"Stolen"

tracklist

— ♬ "You have stolen my heart"

— ♬ Osamu x Reader, timeskip, SFW, fluff, gen reader, strangers to lovers, no beta

Tonight marks the last weekend of the last week of this month until Osamu Miya moves back to his place. He only spent the entire week in the city establishing his new branch in Tokyo, it was a successful opening. This evening was filled with celebration and congratulations for his success, in turn, made his heart full. 

The gold and the glimmer have been replaced, another sun-soaked season fades away. It was under the warm lights did his eyes found you. A nameless individual, a stranger, or rather someone who delivers a strike to his chest. Osamu watches you from across the room, smiling and talking to one of his friends, he suspects you're an invited friend of a friend. 

Invitation's only grand farewells, crash the best one of the best ones. There was clear liquor and people were cloudy-eyed. Osamu knows it's too early to say goodnight, not when he hasn't captured your name. So, he empties his cup of liquor and draws in a breath, with each step towards you making it feel like you were poking his lungs. Osamu stops to feel the quake of his hands, why the hell was he nervous? Why did you make him so nervous?

Was it the way you dressed? Or your picturesque features? Perhaps it's the warm smile on your face, enough to rival the summer's sun. Maybe there was something about your laugh that reminded him of early spring, it gripped his heart so tightly that he merely choked on air. Osamu wonders how and why. You have swiftly plunged your hand into his chest and stole his heart.

He takes a brave step as his eyes never leave your delicate figure. With every step, he can feel his palms sweat, both with anticipation and nervousness. How is it possible to fall for someone you have only seen for the first time? Perhaps you two had crossed paths and he just barely noticed, if that was the case, Osamu felt stupid for letting the first time slide. His approach to you was noticed by the one you were talking to; Suna Rintaro.

"Hey 'Samu"

"Hey"

Osamu choked out a reply as he held himself back from letting his eyes linger on your breathtaking figure. He held his tongue, he didn't want to recklessly dive in and startle you. Suddenly, the immense people in the entire room vanished. Suna goes blurry as he focuses his vision on you. Finally, you meet his grey eyes, and you smile. Oh god, you smiled at him. The look you had in your eye reassured him that you weren't going to push him away and that you were going to let him get close.

"So, you're the Miya Osamu! Great party, Suna decided to invite me here"

"Thanks for attendin'"

"You're welcome! The food's nice"

"Thanks, glad ya enjoyed it"

The exchange was quick but Osamu's heartbeat was even quicker. Your smile grew wider, almost showing your teeth. Your eyes never left his as it caused his stomach to flutter oddly.

"I'm [Name] [Surname], by the way"

"Nice to meet ya, [Name]"

[Name]

The way your name rolled off gracefully from his tongue convinced him that he was meant to say your name. Maybe this infatuation was ridiculous. All you did was behave politely and talk to him nicely and he's here thinking about how to make you swoon. But now that he has gotten your name, you're not supposed to revert into a stranger, are you? Osamu needed to know more. What makes you smile, where you were from, when did you first hear about him, why did you make his chest tight, and how did you manage to steal his heart?

A soft melody played through the speakers to accompany the cool evening, and a few of taken initiative to approach the dancefloor with a partner. Osamu briefly glanced away to watch the people on the dancefloor, his mother and father were there, his colleagues, and even his damned brother with his teammate who happened to be his lover. Osamu felt silly to feel envious of them because he wanted to lead you to the dancefloor but he was afraid it wasn't appropriate. He couldn't handle you declining if he asked you to dance.

Suna subtly slides off to do god knows what and he's left to watch the dancefloor awkwardly beside you. Should he take this chance or take his leave? Osamu contemplated. He concluded that he would be a fool if he let you slip away after the evening without trying to steal your heart as you did with his. He turns to you with an anxious look.

"...Do ya wanna dance with me?"

His voice was barely audible and he thought you didn't hear him, he'll just pretend he didn't say something stupid so he'll save himself from the embarrassment. However, your eyes briefly widened and blinked several times.

"You want to dance with me?"

You clarified. Shit. Osamu gulped as he struggled to play it cool with a nod. He expects a rejection but instead, he receives one of your warm smiles.

"Sure!"

Oh fuck

Osamu thinks. He hasn't thought that far but you were already walking towards the dancefloor, he'd rather die than leave you hanging. The both of you are positioned near Osamu's parents. Standing, you two connected hands and stiffly pressed against each other. Osamu freezes and waits for you to move with bated breath. He exhales when the two of you begin swaying along to the music. 

He couldn't peel his eyes off of you, and he believed you did too because you were gazing at him, seemingly waiting to say something. Osamu can feel your warmth seeping through your hand and your body pressed against his. He wanted to remain here for eternity. With each rapid banging of his heart against his ribcage, a confession threatens to spill from his lips.

"I heard a lot about you from Suna"

"Good things I hope"

"There are, but mostly embarrassing high school moments that I'm surprised he has a picture of"

"I swear, that bastard..."

And you laugh. You fucking laughed. Osamu was astonished at how he hadn't fainted already. His hold on your hand went tighter as he swallowed a lump, praying he swallowed the words he was dying to say too.

"You know, this is my first time talking to you. I've seen you a few times before when I came with Suna to your first branch"

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, you didn't notice me then so I'm surprised you suddenly asked to dance with me now"

"Oh. Well, shit"

Osamu chuckles nervously but you ease his worries with a smile. If it was possible, he felt you press closer to him. His breath hitches.

"It's okay. I just didn't know how to talk to you back then"

"Sorry, but I felt like a fuckin' idiot for not noticin' ya before"

"As I said, it's okay"

"How did I not see ya?"

"Maybe I was hiding behind Suna the entire time"

"...Were ya nervous of me?"

"Kinda, but not anymore"

Osamu smiles at you. His nerves immediately calmed down after the talk. His eyes might be playing tricks with him or the light was shitty, but he could've sworn he saw the tint of pink on your cheeks.

"Yer cute"

Fuck

Well, that was smooth. It was Osamu's turn to blush as he bit his bottom lip to hold back a scream. Your eyes grew wide as laughter bubbled from your chest. Osamu thinks if acting like a fool was the only thing that made you laugh, he's prepared to be the world's finest fool.

"I should say that to you, Osamu"

"Can...can I kiss you?"

The smile on your lips drops as you look at him owlishly. The fear of fucking up no longer bothered Osamu because the next thing you do was timidly nod and flush at him. Without any regard for the people that surrounded the two of you, Osamu leans down to kiss you. And his breath stops there yet his heart continues to beat swiftly. When you kissed him back, it was like a gulp of fresh air. The kiss was brief but tender. As the both of you pulled away, you were sharing a bewildered look.

"Wow...I was definitely not expecting that"

"That was...nice"

"Yeah"

"I like you [Name]. I liked you since my eyes landed on you at this party and I'm convinced that..."

Osamu takes a huge breath. You gaze at him with anticipation. Was he taking this too far? Was this all real? But if one views the entire scene out of his eyes, you and he look like what you both feel; lovestruck. It would seem like a fluke for someone, but never a mistake.

"...You have stolen my heart"

His grey eyes looked at you with a glimmer that you couldn't ignore. Your hand makes its way to his cheek and Osamu melts.

"I'm glad because you stole mine first"

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[tartrat]

Mothigan Headcanons

I really like how mysterious Mothigan is, so i thought it would be fun to share some headcanons, mainly about how i think she's part of a line of people who came in possession of the crypt and how her powers work. I also hid an among us in this drawing.

So I mentioned in my last post about her that i headcanoned that there was someone before her who passed the crypt onto her, so here is that headcanon in more detail.

This mysterious coach is who i call "The King of the Butterflies". However he was dying, someone had inflicted an illness onto him, and so he needed to find someone to replace him. Mothigan stumbled upon the crypt one day and decided to investigate, finding the dying king. She decided to stay and help him. From here she was taught magic and how to control the butterflies. Once the King had taught her enough so that she would continue on the legacy, he succumbed to the illness and died, leaving Mothigan as the new ruler of the crypt and all the butterflies. Though she realised that inevitably she would have to find a successor too, but that won't be for many years to come. Maybe.

She does enjoy this power, and as she learnt more, the more she wanted to carry on the legacy created by those who came before her, and hopes that whoever she finds as her successor, falls in love with the butterflies as she did.

Though at this point she can barely remember her predecessor's face. She can still hear his voice when she falls asleep, guiding her, but otherwise he appears as a shadow with piercing red eyes. She misses him though, even if she only knew him for a short while. She wonders if this was how his predecessor appeared to him, and if this is how she will appear to her successor when she departs. Just a shadowy figure who appears in their dreams.

I tried to depict what one of these dreams would look like with this quick drawing(i used the noise and bloom features on procreate a lot.) I didn't want to detail it too much. I also made the dream version of her predecessor reference a certain cryptid.

This mystery man doesn't have a name, it would be something related to butterflies. i'm not going to tag this post with oc, because he's just a shadow and not really a full oc yet.

The coaches of eternyx have given her the name "The Monarch of Moths", and they revere her as they don't know her intentions. They say if you catch a glimpse of her, you are in danger. However this would be merely an old folktale that has been associated with the rulers of the crypt, and they are not evil in any way. Basically some think that they are cryptids.

I call her a Monarch mainly after the butterfly, i'm unsure if that's the exact butterfly that's used in her design or if its a different yellow and black butterfly, and its fitting as she seemingly has control over all the butterflies in the crypt. (Unless they actually control her?)

Thats about it for my headcanon on her past but I have ideas about how she uses the butterflies in her magic.

Most obvious, she can create portals in the shape of butterflies for her to travel through, much like the rectangular ones Wanderlust and The Traveller create. I just like the idea of her travelling wherever she wants, even if it seems like she rarely leaves the crypt. Also i just think butterfly shaped portals sound cool.

Another idea I have was that she can send individual butterflies off and use them as cameras. This would be most useful for her when she is keeping an eye out for a successor. This would sort of work in a similar way to how Wanderlust watched Night Swan corrupt Sara in yssmiac, except its only one way so no one can see her and its not an actual portal, just a window. (Does that make sense?)

I mentioned this in the other Mothigan post as well, but the Butterflies could be the souls of the dead. They choose to help the ruler of the crypt. They've been around forever, even before the previous king. Whilst the rulers of the crypt use the flow for their magic, these butterflies help heighten their powers.

I think about her a lot, like she's so mysterious that it just intrigues me. That's sort of why i created this headcanon that she inherited the crypt from a previous butterfly related figure. I don't think that she's evil. I think that she mostly just minds her own business and just ended up in this position. Scary Butterfly Lady (complimentary) you are so cool.

Lastly I like making her eyeliner more exaggerated. Like a member of kiss, but she controls butterflies. Thats all i have right now.