#man i said so much shit under the readmore damn.

[sadisthetic]

hi. this is my dnd character for toonkind dnd that i first made 7 years ago that ive recycled twice now because i wanted to finally play an ongoing campaign with him. for his third life, not only did i give him a design update, hes also has undergone a MAJOR overhaul in terms of personality and backstory tho i kept some bare basics the same (human ranger with urchin background who LOVES swords and knifes A LOT. and that he has an ambiguous age) the overhaul includes the isekai. and that hes a cunt now. but hes funnier now too lol.

im adding some more details and trivia about him under the readmore

so like if it isnt obvious the double isekai is meant to mirror the fact that i fucking played with him in 3 separate campaigns now. its part of him metatextually now lol. he was such a different guy tho. an EXTREMELY LOYAL guy. now hes significantly more selfish. and rude as hell. but hes not that to be mean or malicious. hes actually a pretty nice guy hes just extremely inconsiderate bc he prioritizes his own wellbeing most of the time. its how he had to grow up

copy pasting this tweet i wrote about him "blade at 15 was a guy that shouldve been playing halo while drinking monster but instead hes a guy stealing apples and eating mushrooms off tree bark. miraculously few instances of poisoning all things considered"

he wouldve been a fucking gamer otaku fr. he got isekaied in the mid 2000s and as a kid he fucking LOVED watching dragonball on saturday mornings. if he got to be a teen on earth, he would eventually found the anime and gaming subcommunities online BUT ALAS. he grew up trying to catch fish with his bare hands. or at least he did until he gave up quick and ate weeds.

also. despite the hardships. hes like. fine? somethings wrong with him. but its not trauma. he didnt mourn his parents much although its not like he couldve done anything with their freshly isekaied corpses when immediately hes being chased by fucking beasts. its okay they were like b-tier parents. (hes definitely not a normal person.)

he wandered the woods trying his best to survive alone and in spite of everything trying to kill him (including the shit he ate...) he ended up in a nearby(?) town and things got a bit easier after that. because he could fucking steal to eat real food now. he stayed in the woods on the outskirts of town bc no one showed grace to a thief and just dropped in every so often to swipe shit. steadily he learned forage (through sheer trial and error)

he was highkey a menace. but eventually in his late teens, a traveling party gave him an idea to like fucking. get a job. as something. he managed to make it work as a ranger/guide for hire

he fucking loves booze. he absolutely underage drank. when he could steal it. and later pay for it. and also even though he could pay for things as an adult, he still steals shit if he thinks he can get away w it (he has an absurdly (or at least pretty) high sleight of hand stat)

before he got isekai'd a second time, went through a CATASTROPHIC DIVORCE with an elf woman who he met in an expedition party who became enamored with him after he saved her life. the uh. fallout happened bc blade didnt realize (and still hasnt realized) that hes kinda aro (fundamentally did not understand her romantic intentions and thought she was just a friend wanted to hang out w him a lot. those were dates.) and his ex didnt realize how onesided it was bc she was so love with him. geez.

also. he was from arizona. hes half white half mexican. but with all the time spent not speaking spanish in a different fucking world, it made any spanish speaking skills he had atrophy to hell. it happens and it was bound to happen bc he was so young and had like no reason or opportunity to practice.

also he chose his name. he hated his lame ass name so much he was like "wait. i dont have to use it anymore." but he was 13 fucking years old. anyways he thought blade sounded cool for a name. knifedad happened later when he got his first knife. he still had a bad naming sense. he was 14.

also although his ethics are kinda wack, whats important to note is that he ultimately doesnt want anyone to like. die. its like his policy. save people that he can while trying his best to not die himself

he also has a soft spot for kids. whether hed bc a good dad is debatable but like. i think hed be a nice one

most important note: his longsword is named Darla, his dagger is named Samantha, the knife in his pack is named Nicky, and his newly acquired strange glowy sword is named lucia, and he wants a cool greatsword very very very fucking bad

i drew him in his under clothing also so that i could have a better sense for his body type when i designed his new outfit im adding it here too. he has a shitton of scars bc hes the type that pisses ppl off that they wanna shank him and also he routinely eats shit a lot. a lot of the scars in this sketch are pretty random except for one specific injury for a certain backstory event i have in mind

[nyastyaraspurrtina]

Mechtober post! (Yes, I only just saw the blog and whipped this up on the fly ☹️)

Day 1: Captain

Submission under the readmore!

Warnings: Guns, shootings, death (not treated seriously)

@mechtober-2024

"Captain."

"What?" A tall woman with glasses and blue-tipped hair stood staring at the shorter man. "I'm afraid I didn't hear you."

"Bull-shit. You know damn well what I said, so–"

The woman smiled. Or maybe it was more of a smirk. It was hard to tell. "Really, Jonny, you need to speak up. I can hardly hear you."

"Well, Nastya," Jonny huffed, "Maybe you need to get your ears checked. As I was saying, I am the captain, and so I make the decisions. And my decision is that we are having chicken for dinner."

"I am the oldest, so in terms of seniority, I outrank you. And my decision is that we are having pirozhki for dinner."

"Chicken."

"Pirozhki."

"Chicken."

"Pirozhki."

"Chicken!"

"Pirozh–" Nastya did not finish her sentence, as there was a quiet click, and then a much louder bang as she gasped for air, choking, before falling dead to the floor.

Jonny stood over her corpse, holding a smoking gun. "Chicken wins."

"Actually," countered Tim, passing by them, "we're having tacos. Brian already made them. Oh, and by the way, you're the first mate."

"Fuck you."

[farewllyouth]

okay well it only took me all morning but here's a whopping 25 sentences for the wip challenge poll I ran the other day. @mothmanwashere look what you made me do.

royjamie get together fic, but it's only the angsty middle bit lol. of course if u want to see the beginning or the happy ending u can comment or swing by my inbox to encourage me to keep going bc lord knows I need it. approximately 500 words.

under a readmore bc my lit major ass loves run on sentences

you stirred something in me (i admit defeat)

"You still alive over there granddad?"

Roy grunts, all he can manage at the moment, still trying to catch his breath. Damn Jamie and his youthful endurance and his still-functioning body and his fucking face that Roy knows is all done up with that smug fucking smile.

When Roy manages to work up the nerve to look over at him, Jamie's smiling, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

He looks fucking… concerned or some shit. Not like he actually thinks Roy's old man heart has stopped in his fucking chest or whatever, but it's familiar and he can't quite place it. It makes Roy feel something between anger and discomfort that he can't put a name to, and he's about to open his mouth to say something defensive and maybe a little bit mean, but Jamie speaks up first.

"Mind if I borrow your shower?"

Saved from embarrassing himself further, he points to the en suite. Jamie rolls over to plant his feet on the floor and stand all in one fluid motion. Roy can't help but envy him as an ache starts to settle in his own knee.

Roy hears the water running, and this is the part where he usually starts to fall asleep but he's wide awake, his knee protesting and his mind racing and Jamie's face burned into his memory.

Because there is a memory there, rising to the surface of Roy's hazy brain.

Back when he first came back to Richmond, Jamie had been the only person who hadn't seemed excited to have him back, that same nervous look on his face. And Roy hadn't expected things to change from the way they were before, when he and Jamie hated each other, but maybe Jamie didn't really hate him anymore – maybe he never had, but Roy couldn't let himself look too close at that yet – because he wasn't picking fights, at least not until Roy had forced his hand, and even then he'd only wanted Roy to make him better.

Roy generally isn't good at reading people, but he knows now that Jamie had been expecting something. Braced for disappointment.

Jamie had told him as much, later, after they got into that truly childish fucking fight over Keeley and gone out for kebabs. Roy had been feeling mean and made Jamie watch him eat without letting him order anything. And then Jamie had opened up and told him something really fucking sad, because apparently they did shit like that now.

Thought you were just waiting for a reason to get rid of me, he'd said. Cause Roy was such a fucking arsehole that Jamie had fucking resigned himself to getting booted from the team at Roy's say-so, even though he was trying so fucking hard to be a better teammate and a better man, because he believed they would've chosen Roy over him.

And there's that fucking face again, making his stomach churn both in the memory and in the present.

"Fuuuuck," Roy groans, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Right," Jamie says, suddenly standing next to the bed, half-dressed, hair still dripping, "well, I should probably be off then, yeah?"

[hopeformankind]

RAMBLE TIME!

HEY HEY HEY!!! its your boy, the funny ooc man, but okay so i just. wanna put down a random ramble because sometimes i feel like aot fans may forget just like... how fucking scary erwin REALLY can be once in a while. like. i love my lil funny himbo oaf man but holy fuck in the manga/anime hes ACTUALLY terrifying-- i rambled about this to my friends MANY times before, but i wanna put it on TUMBLR NOW and curse your eyes on this hellsite

SO since it'll probably be long because i know how i can be when i ramble, it'll be under a readmore! this is because i rambled in discord and i have a habit on typing like how i speak HUIWEHAIEA

have fun! there will be mentions of death, injury, government corruption, etc.

erwin is the same man who MADE the long-distance scouting formation, became the first commander to succeed a living predecessor this is the same man who literally KNEW LEVI WAS SENT BY LOBOV-- THE DUDE WHO LEADS THE ANTI-EXPEDITION MOVEMENTS AGAINST TEH SURVEY CORPS ALL BC SHITHEAD DARIUS WAS LIIKE "damn! yall suck"-- AND LET THAT MOTHERFUCKER'S FRIENDS DIE. JUST TO TELL HIM "hey. actually the documents weren't on me at all and i sent them out already so we're getting funding. also. i knew you were going to kill me. get fucked idiot"

HES THE SAME MOTHERFUCKER WHO FUCKING KNEW THERE WAS AN ENEMY IN THE CADET CORPS AND OVERSHARED JUST TO EXPOSE THEM HE KNEW THAT THEY'D GET ATTACKED IN THE 57th EXPEDITION AND PURPOSEFULLY TOLD HIS SOLDIERS DIFFERENT FORMATION PLACEMENTS SO THEN PEOPLE WOULDNT FIND EREN HES THE MOTHERFUCKER. WHO GOT ANNIE CAPTURED FOR A TIME. AND WHEN HE REALIZED ANNIE WAS THE ONE WHO KILLED HIS SOLDIERS? STRAIGHT UP SAID. EYE FOR AN EYE USE ALL THE SPARE ROUNDS HES THE SAME MOTHERFUCKER

WHO LITERALLY GOT ANNIE CAPTURED IN STOHESS AND WHEN NILE WAS LIKE "DUDE I COULD HAVE YOU GET EXECUTED" ERWIN WENT "aight bet yeah but anyway. when i DO die. youre gonna need to set shit up--" HE CONTINUED TO GIVE ORDERS WHILE HIS ARM WAS CAUGHT IN A TITAN'S MOUTH AND HE ALSO AND THIS IS SOMETHING I'D ONLY NOTICED THIS YEAR SLICED THROUGH ARMORED TITAN REINER'S THUMB FROM THE ARMORED SIDE FIRST THROUGH BERTHOLDT TO FREE EREN

AND LANDED ON HIS HORSE FUCKING PERFECTLY ALL AS HE JUST LOST HIS ARM. THIS IS THE SAME MAN WHO PRETTY MUCH, AFTER HEALING UP AT THE HOSPITAL, GOT DETAINED AND INTERROGATED AND HAD THE FUCKING BALLS TO LOOK AT NILE IN THE EYES AND GO "how's your wife? or your kids? :)?" AND LITERALLY GO TO THE FUCKING FALSE KING AND ALL HIS GOONIE ARISTOCRATS

AND _HAS THE WHOLEASS ROYAL GOVERNMENT GET EXPOSED, DURING HIS TRIAL, ABOUT HOW THEY VALUE THEMSELVES OVER HUMANITY AS A WHOLE AND USES THE PLACE WHERE HIS GALLOWS WERE ORIGINALLY MEANT TO BE TO HAVE HISTORIA CROWNED AND THIS MAN NOT ONLY HYPES UP HIS SOLDIERS WHEN THEY FINALLY GET THE RECOGNITION THEY DESERVE BUT HE KNEW THAT HIS SOLDIERS WOULD ONLY FOLLOW HIM AS A LEADER AND LED A SUICIDE CHARGE TO TAKE DOWN THE BEAST TITAN AND MIND YOU: HE DEOSNT LIE TO THEM HE DOESNT COWER BEHIND THEM GOING "yeah no ahaha you'll live i promise!!" HE TALKS ABOUT HOW MUCH HE VALUES THE LIVES OF HIS SOLDIERS, HOW MUCH HE CARES FOR THEM, HOW HE REMEMBERS ALL OF HIS SOLDIERS AND LEADS TEH CHARGE KNOWING FULL WELL HE'LL DIE HE KNEW HE'D GET HIT FIRST AND HE TOOK IT LIKE A CHAMP AND GOT FUCKING TRAMPLED BY EVERYONE ELSES HORSES. LETS NOT FORGET HOW EVEN IF HE WERE HAVING HIS LAST DREAM, HE SLAPPED THE TITAN SERUM AWAY FROM HIS ARM TOO???

ERWIN WAS METAL AS FUCK not to emntion as well he was able to singlehandedly fight against levi and restrain him and told him straight up that his friends would be detained or hurt if he didnt stop resisting and he held back levi's blade when levi STRAIGHT UP POST ACKERBOND AWAKENING WENT TO KILL HIM HE HELD IT BAC WITH ONE FUCKING HAND MIND YOU?!?!?!?!

vvvvv THIS stuff below isn't discord ranting. it's me adding this on in post.

also to add to all of this i feel like something that should be noted (at least by my dumbass) is that, in a way... erwin never really lies to his soldiers. sure, he'll mislead them (telling them different locations of where eren's squad actually is as an example) if it's to protect an important asset within the survey corps, but he never outright lies (only from what i remember though dont take this as gospel). he calls himself a conman and a liar because so many people died under his command when he'd say that he fought for humanity when he really fought for himself all sorts of people fight for themselves in the scouts (eren with fighting titans and him n the buddies seeing the outside world, jean originally wanted to join the mps to live comfortably, etc) and their own dreams... but hteir own dreams are pretty much what is a part of what makes humanity... well. humanity. erwin fought to be able to learn about if his father's theories were right, which is just as equally valid as anybody else's

when he was faced with the option that he could hide behind his soldiers and see what's in the basement, erwin did NOT take that option. it's often in media we'll see corrupt higher-ups that would be cowardly and hide behind their own soldiers who would act like meat shields, or those that would just only use their soldiers for the dirty work. erwin doesn't do that

he acknowledges the choices he can make and gets insight from a third party, and eventually settles with him leading the rest of the recruits. he doesn't say they'll 'live' in these shitty conditions, doesn't say that they're fighting with full-on glory and gonna look badass, he keeps it real and actively leads these soldiers to certain death... but he doesn't cower behind them. he leads them right at the front knowing HE HIMSELF is the first to die

despite how terrifying and fucking batshit insane erwin can be, the completely unhinged creacher he is, he still has a heart and cares for his soldiers (he has intense survivor's guilt, regrets and remorse as he envisions himself on a mountain of their bodies, or seeing them all gathered around him waiting for his next move. he shows clear fear and pain, even a sense of emptiness at the realization that the young recruits would all die from his orders.. not to mention how stoic he had to keep himself as they returned from the 57th expedition and were heckled.

of course, we cant forget stohess and how fucking insane that was (annie and eren shifting, a SHITTON of civilian deaths bc of their bullshittery) and how many people it killed under erwin's orders... but in this sort of situation, it's a 'lesser evil'. either more people die in the long run as the female titan escapes to kill more soldiers and people alike, or capturing her then and there despite how much bullshit occurs

bro is a complicated character. he's stoic and formal and almost graceful in his own right, but also can be completely unhinged, manipulative and undoubtedly a gambling man-- and not to mention borderline suicidal. but that isn't to say he's heartless-- he cares immensely and knows what must come with the role of being a commander: you can't always have a situation where everyone just gets out alive no problem, no casualties, no nothing, there will be situations where it's either one choice or the other, and both are shit, but one will be better in the long run. he held his own survivor's guilt, his own remorse, he's got his own flaws, but that's what makes him so human.

he's simple and complex, got all sorts of layers to him and. man he's fuckin wild

LIKE. I NEEDED TO GET ALL MY THOUGHTS DOWN HERE BC I FEEL LIKE IT'D ALSO HELP ME TOO!!! IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO START UP DISCUSSIONS FROM THIS LITERALLY HMU

[mizuribbons]

v3 liveblogging starts now

start of prologue - end of prologue

spoilers under the cut

:readmore:

here we goooo it's startinggg

"I'm the protagonist-" false information!!! besides you aren't even better than the real protag smh my head /hj

"a classroom?" No shit Mozart or whatever I don't know classical musicians well

that's a very weird pinching noise...

HERE COMES SHUICHI!!!! HERE HE COMESSSSS

HERE HE ISSSSSSSSSSS <3

*my dumbass kissing the screen*

haha butt /j

i should honestly be bonked for obsessing too much over a fictional character... actually two fictional characters.

something about Kaede saying shut up is the funniest fucking thing ever

gray guy's ass /j i do not have a crush on gray guy

"why me?" you signed up for this shit kaede don't act like you didn't (I know I know she doesn't remember blah blah blah)

slapping shit time

Kaede asking the door questions /j yes yes inner dialogue I know no shit

"what?" quote of the year fr

kokichi time

there he is

i accidentally skipped his dialogue waaaaaa

hello sir avocado man

there are 16 gayasses

hehehehehehehe ryoma so fucjing short lmaooo /hj

i don't like string cheese. actually i don't like cheese at all!!!

"we screwed up" the game makers screwed up when making you and your siblings except monodam he's the only good one

just realised my fav monokub is in front of one of my comfort characters and my least fav is in front of the other.... hmmmmmmm

damn maybe monokid mentioned hell at some point idk

kaede really flabbergasted at them being monokubs

yes you were fucking right no shit avocado

off topic but the monokub theme fucking slaps it's an absolute banger

sleepy ass bitch tbh wake up!!! wake up!!!!!!!!!

"forgot" you mean forgor???? they forgor lol

hello again Kokichi :)

"friggin'" you know you can say fucking this is Danganronpa after all

MLG horns + Sailor Moon transformation = V3 transformation sequence

"what am I wearing" clothes lmao

we waking up again soon

we already did this shit!!!!!!!!!

here comes Shuichi 2.0!!!!! insert autism creature yippee

he's so cute fr

aaaand here comes the music

monokubs are back I hate those bitches

i hate monokid most but he's so fucking funny, you're the monster actually why are you scared you lil bitch

wow monokid confirmed stuffed animal

first monokid boner of the game...

you calling the best people ever cretins?!?! honestly stfu monophanie sorry i am obsessed with fictional characters

sixteen sure is a number kaede

skipping the whole ultimate explanation I don't care honestly

monokid rager voice line count: 2

introductions for the second time, you love to see it

star kissing the screen again... that isn't even my fav character

"usually just piano freak" well that isn't nice

baby kaede still ugly as fuck tbh where's her nose and why does she already have a full head of hair even baby peko looked better and she didn't have a nose either

at least she grows up very pretty

"when did this get in my backpack?" 0.3 seconds ago!

smoothie :D

foreshadowing moment

yaaaaaa blueberry smooothieeeee

Kaede is such a hardcore lesbian

going to see avocado man again!!!

clearly you're the ultimate avocado

i forgot to type anything here when talking to Himiko but now I'm talking to Tenko

"you're so cute!" And you're a lesbian

Tenko said her first degenerate males im so proud of her

let's go to best character (Kokichi)

KOKICHI I'M COMING FOR YOU

HERE WE WRE

Here he IS

HE IS HERE

sorry I am very happy

we have all of the best boys in one room (and Kaede is there too)

how couldn't Kaede tell that Kiibo is a robot????

he did it he said "i will see you in court"

yes introduce yourself king!!!!!

he's so silly

HE SAID IT HE SAID ROBOT DICK FUNNY HAHA LINE

why is this man so fucking funny he has my brain in a chokehold

maki rol

hello short cat lover man

oops I forgot to go see miu lmao

news flash: everyone who wears pants is a PERVERT!1!1!1!11!!!1!! more at 9

"everyone knows that only pervs wear hats" himiko: 😐

she wants drugs

THERE we go now we can go see kork

gonna be honest sometimes I forget his name is Korekiyo and not just Kork

bro I don't think your teeth fell out they're definitely right there (also you can't... have... fingernails...)

monokid rager voice line count: 3

"walls are erected" 😳

the wall can be demolished just you wait

ah yes the exisals somehow have wives and kids

you can slap yourself Kaede but don't slap one of my comfort characters. that is a crime against humanity

space idiot time

"not just anyone can get up there" I can /j

here are the monoshits again

BRO PISSES IN THE SHOWER I know it happens it just gets me every time

BRO SHITS IN THE SHOWER again it gets me every time

hello mom aka basically just 2B from Nier (or so I've heard idk I have never played Nier)

time to meet our next autism creature

wonder what this guy's name is

found him right away! after 10 years

last one

im still pissed that instead of keeping it as a generic god so it doesn't offend any religion, they chose to make angie's god the real fucking Polynesian gods

angie still cute though <3

time to go gym lol

im like a cat with the zoomies

another reference thank you blueberry smoothie

honestly??? kokichi so fucking silly I love him (if you somehow couldn't tell)

i think it might be a killing game not sure tho

i will crush you guys with this here exisal

jabroni

hello motherfucker- I mean monokuma

"im not mad" he says firing a fucking lazer

yoooo they said despair

the songs in this game >>>>>

yeaaaaa rock paper scissors

imagine if monokuma ate monophanie

murder very sophisticated

yo the monokuma tongue sprite weird as hell

the rager voice line count is 4

nvm it's 5

*laughs to death*

honestly this is tiring me out but I gotta complete the prologue!!!

"a lie... more like fiction..." that's bc it is lmfaooooooooooo

the first character to attempt a murder talking about how they won't kill is so funny to me

damn they laughing

yes I know what game this is

prologue over guys we can go home now

[lovebishoplosamiguelgalindos]

Bishop Losa and Reader. 18+ and pretty much all smut @withmyteeth enjoy this also @itsjustmyfantasyroom and other Bishop ladies who just love the man like me . I don’t know where this came from but I just started typing it on a Saturday night :readmore: 615 words

You heard the sound of his motorcycle approaching just as you finished cooking dinner . You were getting plates made up when he walked up the steps. “ Something smells amazing sweetheart .” You kissed him and then ran your hand over his face gently. “ Rough day baby?”

“ Being here with you makes it better.”

“ Well why don’t you go and wash up and then we’ll eat. After dinner I’ll give you one of my special backrubs and I might have a little surprise for you in the bedroom.”

He smiled a little. “. I’ll be a few minutes and that backrub will be amazing.” He gave your ass a gentle squeeze and then played with the strap of the cami you were wearing around the house and gently grazing your breast with his fingers .

Then he went down the hall stopping to throw the ball that your cat played with for him.

You heard his dresser drawers open and close and then the shower turning on. He would more than likely change into your favorite sweats and wife beater. You had gotten him a new red one recently so you wondered if he would wear that one tonight.

You got a cold beer from the refrigerator and opened it just as his footsteps came down the hall again along with the scent of lemon and spice from his shampoo and soap .

“ You made enchiladas querida?” His face softened.

“ Yes I thought some comfort food was in order tonight.”

He leaned across the table and kissed you for a moment .

Then he picked up his fork and the two of you began to eat.

His free hand was moving over your thigh under the table.

“ Those leggings drive me crazy baby.”

“ Well after we eat you can show me how much daddy .”

You could feel heat from his touch beginning to spread over your lower body as his fingers moved in circles. Also the coolness of his rings minus the one around your neck on a chain..

When you had gotten married your wedding band had taken its place on your hand . But since it was the first you wore it for sentimental reasons.

You finished dinner and cleaned up the dishes .,

Then he carried you to the bedroom over one shoulder.

“,Well Mr. Losa you seem to have gotten your second wind.”

One of his hands smacked your ass .

“ Are you going to tease me brat ?”

“ Maybe.” You smiled .

When you got to the bedroom he stood you up long enough to take your leggings off that you were wearing and then he let out a growl. “ Is that a thong?”

“ Yes.”

“ And leopard print too ma?”

“ Victoria’s Secret has some new ones online .”

He pushed you gently against the wall and lifted your hands above your head before taking the lacy material and sliding it off of you to the hardwood floor. Then he began to devour you as you stood there and totally took control.

His hands and mouth were everywhere on you and then he slid inside you and rocked your world.

“ Damn.” You wiped sweat off of your face and waited to catch your breath for a moment.

“ El Presidente never let it be said that you don’t know how to satisfy a woman because that was fucking unbelievable Obispo.”

“ Preciosa you’re the only one I give a damn about having in the bedroom but shit I love you wife,”

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom episode 4-7 Thoughts: (under a readmore because, these got kinda long!)

-the outfit danny had to buy for dash's party. CLASSIC 2000S i cannot stop laughing. And also showing up to the party and everyone is dressed like the trio is hilarious. and further proof that everyone looks good dressed goth.

-dash has a closet full of cute lil bear plushies?? LOVE that. adorable. also his response to danny trashing his room fighting a ghost was SO valid if somone BROKE MY BED IN HALF ID BE PISSED TOO.

-technus being like 'oh smart, u should be a tutor!' then later being like 'forget tutor, be a teacher!' :) supportive king <3 I also really like his upgraded suit/design. AND SPOCK CAMEO??? HELLO??

-the music in this show is super. its so funky. I looked it up and the guy who does it, guy moon (awesome name) also did music for other cartoons like fairly odd parents, barnyard, chalkzone, billy & mandy, AND some actual movies like FIGHT CLUB??? the whiplash I got from reading that)

-sam being rich explains a lot about her, actually.

-I know the moral of the episode was supposed to be 'dont ditch your friends for popular people/spend a lot of money on clothes that arent You to Fit In'. but tbh. it wouldve been easy for danny to have been like 'well, okay, ill come but only if my friends can!' but I get. that hes 14. so. not a lot to say there.

-BOX GHOST IS BACK!!!!! also, danny sitting up and wearing the dress/wig/makeup. umm thats how I dress everyday LMFAO. unironically me. (hate the jokes that boil down to 'haha funney man in dress' tho. but this is a look)

-jazz being protective of her brother once again being like NOOO YOU GUYS BETTER NOT STAKE OUT HIS (actually haunted) LOCKER!! shes aware of how people perceive him and she wants to help :( which is also probably why she told dash to invite him to that party even tho she had no interest in going!! she wants to help him out :(

-gotta say im with tucker on the whole 'should danny use his powers to get back at bullies' debate. 100% yes. let him teach kids to fight back. making dash throw his food at paulina out of the blue? no. but when hes actually about to pick on someone? yeah! for self defense? YEAH! if dash and his friends just threw food at him, I think rather than. idk doing sneaky shit with frogs he couldve just threw it back and not pulled punches if they tried to fight. I kNOOWWW its a kids show so they are like 'if u fight back ur just as bad!! violence bad!!' but. theyre HIS POWERS. WHO CARES.

-like my only gripe is that dash really isnt LEARNING ANYTHING WHEN DANNY GETS BACK AT HIM IN THE MOST PETTY INDIRECT WAYS. whatever they had to add a bully psa episode I guess. I hate it and I hate the way cartoons usually handle it because these methods simply Do Not Work. 'aND YouRE USinG YOur poWErs FOR EVill???!' this is Not Evil. even when poindexter takes dannys body, theyre only being 'nice' bc hes stealing soda for them!! bitches deserve what they get (nothing too brutal bc theyre high schoolers but damn, if they pick on danny he doesnt need to be the 'bigger person' he needs to start biting people)

-SAM TRYING TO SMUGGLE FROGS OUT OF THE BIO LAB?? girl in middle school when we had to dissect frogs we could opt out, also, they came to us already dead and preserved...

-sidney's lingo and the fact hes in black and white is sending me. also, danny is a ghost celebrity apparently for being a halfa?? ok. thats interesting to know

-the DENTIST BEING EXCITED ABOUT THE COTTON CANDY FLOOD IS THE FUNNIEST THING SO FAR.

-I LOOOVE the trope of 'wishes gone wrong'. not crazy about the stereotypical genie, or the use of the dreamcatcher looking design. (also, I KNOW theyre scientists but the way theyre handling a cold...are the fentons ANTIVAX)

-the genie. she. whitewished paulina. JKASDFHKJ. (the ghost literally just being hello kitty???? im dying) 'why do i feel that im special and wonderful? because I AM! <3' paulina ilu self worth queen. felt bad for her also getting possessed by (2) boys later who were arguing INSIDE HER. WTF.

-imagine being the guy trapped in his now flying car. he thought danny and tucker were HALUCINATIONS. imagine being trapped in a flying car with two, what you think are imaginary arguing 14 year olds convinced ur gonna die. i WOULD say this dude is gonna need so much therapy, but he seemed totally fine and excited when they landed (I would be happy too if a chicken was on my head. chickens rule) stoner rights

-sam's bat slippers??? iconic. SO cute.

-I think desiree's backstory is so :( do all ghosts have messed up sad backstories?? poindexter's was sad too...cannot imagine box ghost has any kind of fucked up backstory. but what if. his mom got pushed off cliffs by boxes...........a la cruella... anyway her 'no man may lay a hand on me' iconic. ilu

-I know danny has no concept of how much bras cost but my god dont attack tucker with some girls bra. those are so expensive.

-its really. well its not a GOOD THING he went into the portal and got fucked up, but its good danny was the one to do it rather than sam or tucker. because even tho he was being influenced by desiree and kept getting more malicious and it prob wasnt 100% him...he sucked as a ghost like most the people he 'pranked' were innocent ppl just Chillin and he didnt want to help anyone at all. I think danny is the most responsible out of them but also, hes 14 and shouldnt HAVE to feel obligated to fight every ghost. hes a good kid and wants to, but I also feel like he feels like...responsible for the portal turning on?? because his parents did give it up,, but it was an accident and not his fault (if anything, why was the on switch on the inside. why was it that easy. why was there no safety measures. that seems like smth OSHA needs to hear about). like thats my son. hes a good boy. and hes never done anything wrong in his life, ever. if anyone hurts him im killing everyone in this room and then myself. etc.

-danny's curfew is 10PM????? DUDE. when I was 14...shit I couldn't be out that late, I had to be back at like, 8 at the latest, and my parents had to know exactly where and who I was going with, AND i had to call/text them regularly...is this a case of my parents being overbearing, or the fentons sucking??? the only time i could EVER be out that late was if I was at an overnight sleepover or smth...

-the vultures have lil fezes. why do they have fezes...theyre so fuckin funny 'ask him for directions' 'I KNOW WHERE IM GOING' these ghost vultures are my new grandpas. pick them up, put them in the adopt box.

-'I wonder why those guys were trying to waste dad!' THEYRE GHOSTS. YOUR DAD HUNTS GHOSTS. why is that not a conclusion you'd immediately jump to??

-*jazz voice, clearly disgusted* WISCONSIN???

-mrs fenton with the lab coat and leg warmers and PERM. YESSS STYLISH.

-was going to say 'ew billionaire' @vlad but. super valid he used his powers to assumedly steal and cheat to get that money, thats how all billionaires do it! but ew hes a SIMP. and spending your billions on FOOTBALL STUFF?? you are Not Valid overall. I DO respect the fact you have a castle instead of a mansion. in wisconsin. if youre going to be stupidly rich might as well go all out, torches on the wall and all. I DO like his ghost form's little kitty ears. catman. and his cape! every design can benefit from a cape. and how different his forms look, like danny looks the EXACT SAME IN BOTH FORMS ASIDE FROM COLOR CHANGES. vlad's is like,, I could believe they were different people!! also I love the drama. but dude you are fighting a 14 year old. lame. also he was like, telling danny he wanted his mom and him and like, wanted him to renounce his dad?? WHAT ABOUT JAZZ?? bitch. those r MY kids and they are both important and special. I do agree they need better parents but thats not u sir <3

-I thought vlad's 'little badger' nickname for danny came from the football mascot of the packers, but google says they have NO MASCOT?? so now I'm like?? is it because his hair is sometimes black and sometimes white?? I hate to give him props but thats a PERFECT NICKNAME. theyre also tiny and vicious!

-why did I get so excited that Skulker is back!! its been like. 2-3 eps LMAO. AND THE DAIRY KING. ICONIC I LOVE HIM. hes the nicest guy ever :) more nice ghosts please. danny cannot be fighting alone everytime with no ghost buds like every ghost being hostile sucks :(

-mr. fenton knew vlad was controlling him, but a few episodes ago he had no clue danny was doing the same thing...is it something about how malicious the ghost is?? he just seemed to think his memory had gaps the first time, this time he was INSTANTLY LIKE 'GHOST'. then again in this ep when danny did it again he was just slightly confused but not immediately freaking out like he did with vlad possessing him!!

-'my parents will accept ME NO MATTER WHAT' so. so why haven't you come out to them yet, danny?? if you really think that?? if theres no harm, and you're sure??? if vlad is a real problem, wouldnt that make dealing with him easier, to expose him???? SO WHY HAVENT YOU COME OUT YET?? COULD IT BE,, MAYBE YOU HAVE DOUBTS ABOUT WHETHER YOUR PARENTS ACTUALLY WILL ACCEPT YOU??? 🤔 ... 🏳‍🌈 I get why people say He Is Trans. I totally totally get u danny.

-sorta unrelated, but it just occurred to me in one of these eps they go to casper HIGH not casper middle school??? theyre 14?? dont highschools usually do ages 15-18? (I didnt go to hs so I might be wrong, if I am ignore this...) freshmen are usually 14-15, could just be a case of them not turning 15 yet but they will sometime in the school year (I say they because tucker said he was 14 too)? I know the show has 3 seasons, so by the end of it will they be older? thatd be neat but usually cartoon characters stay the same age...I love shows where you can see the characters age and grow up, though...three seasons seems like a long time to spend on like, 1 year...

[veeranger]

can you maybe talk about Va-11 Hall-A? you talking about it a little made me remember i had to play it so i did and I liked it a lot and would like to hear your opinions as I respect you

its only been a few days but i think ive reached all the conclusions about the game i need to. i think VA-11 HALL-A is a really good game and a great visual novel yes its a visual novel dont @ me im right. actually i think its funny the game tells you to curl up with a blanket and snacks like its gunna be a chill relaxing experience because like tonally speaking its kind of not. theres some heavy shit in the game especially near the end and its not the kind of light chatting simulator you might think it is. not saying i think its a stressful game or anything but i alwys thought that was funny. 

anyway heres my real thoughts. im gunna put it under a readmore for spoilers after a certain point

oh also make sure you play the prologue chapter and the anna demo. those are extremely important despite being hidden behind a nondescript menu icon that the game makes no effort to tell you about. thats genuinely my only complaint about the game 

there’s a quote by mike pondsmith, the creator of the cyberpunk ttrpg about how cyberpunk “...can not be about saving the world. You’re saving yourself or your community. The stakes have to be something that involves the player. You can’t just say, ‘The world is craptastic and you can’t do anything about it.’ No. You don’t have to save the world, but you need to be able to save your mother or the apartment you and your friends live in.” 

and i think that ideology was, intentionally or otherwise, probably otherwise because im pretty sure pondsmith gave this quote a few years after VA-11 HALL-A came out, very clearly captured in this story. Jill and her friends live in this terrible shitty city in a terrible shitty world but thats just the setting yknow. glitch city is a backdrop to tell a series of small scale personal stories, not about “surviving in a hellish dystopian” but just...living in the real world. thats just real life for these people you know. every story told in the game is very personal. nobody is blowing up corporate buildings or igniting a revolution its just like, dorothy reconciling her anxieties about being close to her mother, alma’s family troubles, stella and sei’s mutuals traumas and their close relationship, Jill’s grappling with her own life choices. its nothing crazy its very pedestrian and lowkey, its not exactly something you’d expect from a game with CYBERPUNK stamped on the subtitle but it fits the genre extremely well. 

if nothing else VA-11 HALL-A is extremely well grounded in the reality its set in, everything feels lived in and real, like glitch city is a real place you could go to or something. all those newspaper articles about big events right next to articles about some lilim idol or reruns of a nostalgic anime and the danger/u/ posts about weird conspiracies and arguments about stupid weeb shit it just creates a wholesale sense of realism. i once saw someone complain that in persona 5, you only ever hear other students and people in the streets of tokyo talk about whatever is currently happening in the story and at the time i dismissed it as nitpicking but after VA-11 HALL-A i understand that a little better, it creates a game world that only revolves around the player’s actions and story as opposed to a world that keeps turning on its own that your character just so happens to live in. the story of the game might be about Jill and her friends but the world itself is not centered on them, it doesn’t even know they exist. that’s just excellent worldbuilding imo. 

now at this point i want to talk about Jill’s story and please if you haven’t played  VA-11 HALL-A yet and are reading this and you have any thoughts about playing the game please stop here and go play it first I don’t want to spoil this really good story for you.

man i really liked Jill’s story. i had no idea it was coming so the whole thing sidelined me as much as it did Jill when she heard that Lenore died. the way every aspect of the story was handled was so good. i felt the same way Jill did when she lashed out at Gaby for lashing out at her, i felt the same regret she did after she calmed down and realized she screamed at a grieving little girl and i felt the same kind of anxiety she felt when she had a second chance to talk to Gaby and make things right. every note of the story hit for me and it was just good good good. i liked that Jill was able to come to terms with her own poor choices without hoisting all the blame on herself or absolving herself of any wrongdoing either, i liked that she was able to move on and free herself from feeling shackled to her past but was still able to say that she loved Lenore and still does. i liked that it was a gay story even if it was tragic, it was respectful and well written. i also just love love loved how she was able to reconcile with Gaby and start being her big sister again. obviously if you know me you know that’s something i love and so i was extremely pleased with how they were able to continue that relationship. 

just yknow...its like pondsmith said. you cant save the world but you need to be able to save your mother or the apartment you and your friends live in. Jill is able to save herself, save Gaby, not from dying or anything but just like...just from pain yknow. she helps Dorothy save herself and commit to wanting to be with her mother and that in turn helps Anna. she helps Stella and Sei find closure for a traumatic experience in their lives. But even then she can’t save the bar, or save everyone she loves from living in a horrible world. VA-11 HALL-A still closes down in the end but hopefully if you mixed your drinks right everyone you love is able to move forward a little better than how you found them and i think thats pretty damn cool. VA-11 HALL-A is a really good story and its a neat little game. 

oh also i loved Anna she was such a fun presence. make sure you play the Anna chapter after you beat the game!

[nuttyrabbit]

Giovanni Conti Bio

“Nutty, are you only going to show up to post about Archie Sonic and your OCs?” Yes, yes I am

Anyways, I decided to throw together a quick bio for Gambit’s dad because hey I figured his stuff out and I’m doing shit with him now.

Shoutouts to @pidgeonspen​ for doing his design for me.

Anyways, as always, everything’s under the readmore

Name: Giovanni Conti (Real name Brando Romilla)

Age: Approximately 50 years old

Height: 3'4"

Occupation: Auto mechanic/Conman

Location: Unknown, last confirmed sighting in Westopolis. Originally born in Lugaio, Spagonia.

Sexuality: Bisexual, though greatly prefers women to the point of denying any male attraction

Personality: Giovanni's personality is what one would expect from a seasoned conman: charismatic, self-serving, and conniving, the weasel finds success in his trade thanks to his natural talent in dealing with others. To his victims, Giovanni appears to be a charming, compassionate, smooth-talking individual who seems to go out of his way to help others in their time of need. But of course it's all a farce, a way to con unsuspecting victims out of their hard-earned cash. In reality, the man formerly known as Brando Romilla is the exact opposite. A selfish, grumpy, and temperamental weasel "behind the scenes", Giovanni finds himself unwilling to engage with the world around him outside of whatever con he's cooked up or to get out of whatever mess he's gotten himself into this time.

Giovanni's most defining personality trait however, isn't his sardonic attitude or his smoothtalking ways, but instead his paranoia.  Giovanni has spent the majority of his life on the run and it shows.  He often finds himself looking over his shoulder both figuratively and quite literally, hoping that his latest victim hasn't found out about him or that the law or the mafia or whoever he's crossed hasn't tracked him down to enact their revenge.  As such, Giovanni is extremely hesitant to give out his name unless absolutely necessary for the con, even going so far as to make up fake names in emergency situations, though the truth eventually comes out.  In addition, he trusts absolutely nobody and almost always looks for a way to backstab/escape any sort of partnership he's found himself on the receiving end of, willing or otherwise.

All of this being said, it isn't *all* bad for Giovanni personality-wise, for when the weasel finds something he actually likes, one can see a softer, more eager side of him come out. Despite his professed hatred of his previous job, Giovanni has a rather deep appreciation for the intricacies of vehicles and vehicle repairs, even going so far as to sneak into antique car shows to gawk at the new vehicles and reminisce about the "good old days" before it "got so complicated" in terms of technology. Oddly enough, he also loves vinyl.

Skills: Giovanni is of course, an incredibly skilled con-man, imploying a variety of cons and scams to trick people out of their money, ranging from simple "tourist trap" tricks such as "no change", "toll booth", and "free gift", to more complicated ones such as "flat tire" schemes and even reselling stolen/counterfeit items at a significantly marked up price.  His variety in terms of cons is helped by his ability to sell them thanks to his smooth-talking charismatic persona that he puts on during them.  As a result of his occupation he's also extremely adept at pointing out other cons/knowing when he's being duped.  Not only that, but he's even picked up some basic lockpicking/hotwiring and ID forging skills, though they aren't quite as honed as his other talents in the area.

Surprisingly enough, again despite his professed dislike of his childhood job, Giovanni is an incredibly skilled mechanic, being able to assess the issues with (mostly older) vehicles just from a few minutes of observation and testing alone and fixing it in record times. OF course he'll complain about how he's "too fuckin' old" for it, but he'll do a damn good job...and even enjoy himself somewhat.   He claims he would be unable to work on "new-fangled" vehicles such as Extreme Gear but if he were to get the chance, would find that he'd be a natural at it.

Likes: Antique vehicles, wine, the feeling when he pulls of a con, vinyl records, fresh pressed suits, rare steak, expensive cigars, older women, working on antique vehicles.

Dislikes: The law, organized crime outfits, his ex-wife, his kid, getting caught, prison, cheap beer, "new" technology, people who talk too much, his grandfather, working on vehicles (his relationship with auto repair is..complicated), staying in one place for too long.

Backstory: Brando Rombilla was born into anything but normalcy:  born to a pair of younger Spagonian lovers, the result of a tryst gone wrong, he was abandoned on the steps of his paternal grandfather, the widowed mechanic Angelo Rombilla, who would raise the weasel as his own.

Angelo was an old, stubborn, hardworking man who had spent his entire life toiling away as a mechanic, even coming to own his own shop...yet despite it all, he never quite had a lot to show for it, and Brando grew up in not quite poverty, but in...less than modest means

Despite this...unusual situation, Brando would, at least for a time, grow up as any other child would, going to school, making friends, and living as a normal Spagonian child would--at least until he hit the age of 12-13, where his father suddenly and inexplicably ground his childhood to a halt, pulling him out of school and telling him that he was going to be a "working man" from now on, that he'd have to help out at the shop and help put food at the table--and that is indeed what happened.

From then on, Brando found himself working at the modest repair shop, working the front desk, doing oil changes, and learning the ins and outs of auto repair--and he fucking hated it.

Not just because he'd been robbed of the experiences his peers were getting, but it served as a constant reminder of the (at least to him) pathetic conditions in which they lived and worked. In addition, it only served to exacerbate his sheer irritation at his father's stubbornness and near-perfectionist standards.

But over time, as he aged and saw his peers move on to bigger and better things, he realized something else: all this work, all this "good, honest, hard" work he'd been doing, that his grandfather had been doing, that he wanted him to inherit, it was getting them nowhere

The both of them spent years and years doing the same shit over and over, and they were no better off than when they'd started. They still lived like shit, ate like shit, and worked like dogs, and the idea of doing this his entire life revolted him.  Yet when he'd bring this up, he'd just get shouted down, beaten down, and told to get back to work. He loathed it all.

Then one day, around the time Giovanni hit 19--it all changed. In a moment of what his grandfather would call laziness and what Brando would later call ingenuity, he accidentally charged a customer for something they hadn't done--and with it, more money than he should've had.  It suddenly hit him, his way out, his way to actually do something about all of this. It started off slow, an overcharge here, a useless job done there, a job not done this way or that, even some front product sold off of lies.  Before Brando knew it, the shop was actually making money for once, and more than that, he was making money.  And the best part was, that for once, Angelo seemed like he didn't have a stick up his ass. He seemed...happy, over the moon really that things had begun to look up.  Things seemed to finally be getting better!

....until Angelo caught Brando in the act, after which the mother of all shouting matches ensued, of the grandson and grandfather screaming at each other about this and that, about everything--and saw Brando being thrown out of the shop, out of his grandfather's home--and out of his life

Out on his ass with only the money he'd pocketed and the clothes on his back to his name, Brando  by all rights should have been terrified about his future, livid about what had happened, but instead he found himself excited. Now that his grandpappy or his stupid shop wasn't a problem anymore, he could finally do something with himself, and he knew exactly what that'd be--putting to use the same bullshittery that'd gotten him here to begin with.

And so the young weasel found himself hopping all over Spagonia, honing his craft. Whether it be through  pinching wares from stores and selling them nearby at an outrageously hiked price,  snatching and selling bootleg items, or even using his mechanic skills to craft "wonder items" that were quite literally just old scrapyard junk,  Brando soon became quite adept at the art of the con.  However, with that adeptness came attention, and with that attention came the watchful eye of the law, which attempted to crack down on the weasel multiple times as he traveled about Spagonia.

Soon enough, his face and name were plastered on wanted signs, in local papers, and in time, he couldn't run any longer, finally being booked on fraud charges and placed in prison for ~ 3 years at the age of 22.   Upon getting out,  Brando realized that he couldn't exactly do his work here anymore, lest he get thrown back in for good.

But Soleanna wasn't exactly appealing either, especially since the SPD were notorious for cracking down on fraudsters.  He was at a loss at what to do, until he managed to catch a TV broadcast talking about Empire City and it hit him- EC would be the perfect place to disappear and get a fresh start.  It was big, it was far away, and it was full of suckers just waiting to be parted with their money Forging himself a new identity (quite literally) as "Giovanni Conti" , he smuggled himself on board a ship and soon found himself in Empire City, where he almost immediately got to work--and found the results to be not what he expected

While the toursts were complete suckers as expected, the residents were anything but, and he found himself on the run from the law once more--and in addition, the various criminal orgs that made their homes there and had no tolerance for being scammed.   Needless to say, the whole thing frustrated him, and with no other way to vent his frustrations, he turned to drinking, and with it, found himself at a small bar in downtown EC, drinking away his frustrations...and chatting up an equally frustrated, and rather attractive young woman. He didn't catch her last name, but certainly caught her first- Artemis

What should have just been a simple one night tryst suddenly got a lot more complicated once the young woman had tracked him down almost a week  later with some soul-crushing news: She was pregnant, and it was almost certainly by him.  To make matters worse, Artemis was an up and coming politician, someone in the running for the EC City Council, and she would be DAMNED if it came out that she got knocked up in a one night stand, that would ruin her career! Despite Giovanni's attempts at arguing otherwise, she also insisted on keeping the child, claiming that if word got out she got rid of it, it would ruin her career. Threatening to hand him over to authorities, she blackmailed him into sticking by her side for the following 9 months, appearing in front of the cameras as a pictureesque pair of parents-to-be, Artemis embracing the newfound attention and Giovanni absolutely loathing all the eyes on him, and not only that, but also moving in together to her (admittedly) lavish apartment.

This continued up on through the end of the pregnancy and into the birth of their son, who Artemis named "Tai", a (perhaps ironic) homage to an old Apotosian patron of Luck.  From then, things continued normally, well as least as normal as could be for the unwitting parents-to-be, up until the child was around a year old, when Artemis went on a sudden vacation.  Left alone with the child and feeling helplessly trapped, Giovanni contemplated making a break for it, perhaps faking his own death and figuring out the details later, when a hooded figure burst into the home and attempted to shoot both him and the child dead.  Through a near-miraculous stroke of luck though, the intruder's gun jammed, giving Giovanni the chance to brandish a knife and stab them in the jugular.  His heart pounding, his mind racing, Giovanni quickly put two and two together: someway, somehow, Artemis had tried to get the two of them whacked.  Quickly disposing of the body and without really thinking about it, Giovanni grabbed the child and made a break for it, bolting from the apartment and leaving Empire City under cover of darkness, trying to make sure he left no trace that he had left--or was even still alive.

Soon arriving in Westopolis, Giovanni and Tai found a small apartment to squat in for the time being. Quickly settling in, Giovanni quickly fell back into his old ways, and found the people of Westopolis far more vulnerable to his schemes than in EC. Still, the weasel wasn't happy. His "new start" that he'd hoped for had fallen apart before it'd even gotten the chance to get off the ground because of *her*, Artemis. Giovanni's frustration gnawed away at him--not helped by the tiny weasel at home, his little boy--the *mistake* that'd gotten him into this mess.   He often found himself verbally and physically taking out his frustrations on young Tai, even more so when it turned out the little brat wasn't even good enough to help him on cons.  He wished he could get rid of the little bastard once and for all, but for some reason, he just couldn't bring himself to kill him despite his best efforts.

Years went by, but nothing truly changed for the pair, until young Tai was 8 years old and Giovanni found himself on the bad end of a con gone wrong, having inadvertently found himself attempting to swindle an undercover cop.  Rushing back to the apartment he and Tai shared, he quickly grabbed whatever tools he could and attempted to disappear, leaving the young Tai behind for good.

Throwing himself out of the frying pan and into the proverbial fire, Giovanni had managed to disappear and evade the cops---and run right into one of his "victims": "Downtown" Ebony Hare--a "made man" in the Carnades, one of the major local outfits--and someone who he'd given a shoddy brake job.  Ebony recognized the weasel almost immediately and motioned to off him for messing up his car, but after Giovanni pleaded for his life, Ebony spared him-- on the condition that he work off his "debts" to him and the Carnades.

Faced with either paying his dues or paying with his life, Giovanni made the obvious choice and ended up doing quite a few small jobs for Ebony over the course of the next decade and change (approx  13 years) not only fixing his car but also fixing the other vehicles in the outfit--and giving a disgustingly large portio nof the proceeds from his other "work" directly to Ebony.  Once again, Giovanni was trapped doing the very thing he'd been stuck doing since childhood and not only that, but also indebted to a mobster who had no intention of letting him go.  He desperately tried to find a way out, but it was to no avail--until a near miraculous stroke of "luck".

The Black Arms invasion decimated a significant portion of Mobius, especially Northamer, and no place found itself worse off than Westopolis. For most living there, it seemed like the end times as  the city burned around them. But for Giovanni, it was an opportunity to finally disappear--and never come back.

The invasion soon ended, the repairs soon begun, and the Carnades began to operate once more--but Giovanni was nowhere to be found. Despite a thorough search of the city, the weasel had just...vanished, presumably killed by the aliens or escaping to parts unknown after.  

Giovanni's current location is unknown and those who know of him believe him to be dead, but there have been some apparent sightings of the aged con-man.  Some say they've seen him on the outskirts of Sand Blast City, others say they've seen him working his trade with another individual down in the Southern Baronies, and some even say that he's still in Westopolis, working his craft, and sticking close to the headquarters of the East Side Pack, a noted rival of the Carnades.

[sub-hoshi-enthusiast]

can we have sub!Lou calling the reader mommy while she fingers him? Please🥺

Thank you for the request! I mention SF9 in this story, but I don't think I'm ready to open requests for them yet, since I don't know much about them. I have been listening to Pentagon a lot and am comfortable with making imagines for them so Pentagon requests are now open if anyone want to request any.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!Lou, fem!dom!reader, mommy kink, fingering (male recieving)

Love at First Sight

You had known Dawon for a few years now, so you had known all of his friends pretty well. Dawon had also known that you were pretty antisocial and wouldn't talk to people unless you had to, though once you did start talking you didn't really have any problems. He wasn't really one to meddle in one's social life, but he dragged you to a little get together he was having with his friend, Ayno, and the rest of both their bands, claiming you needed more friends. You had met the rest of SF9 and Ayno, but hadn't met the other members of VAV. You threw on ripped jeans and a random t-shirt from your closet, grabbing your leather jacket and putting on your converse after you brushed your hair. As you finished tying your shoes, you heard a car horn honk from outside and opened your door to see Dawon sitting in his car waiting for you with Taeyang and Youngbin.

:readmore:

     "Is everyone else already there?" You asked as you entered the car.

     "Nah, the other members are taking a van to fit all of them and we're meeting in a restaurant close to VAV's dorms so they're already there." You nodded in understanding and continued to talk to the boys about random things until you pulled up to the restaurant. You looked through the window and saw the other members of SF9 happily talking to Ayno and a few other people you didn't recognize. You all hopped out of the car and entered the restaurant, quickly walking over to their table. 

     "Hey guys!" Dawon greeted as you neared the table. Everyone immediately quieted down and turned towards his voice with a smile before greeting all of you. Ayno stood up and walked over to give Dawon a hug before turning and hugging you as well.

     "Guys, I want you all to meet (y/n)!" Ayno said enthusiastically with his arm around your shoulder. The boys you didn't recognize waved at you with a smile.

     "(Y/n), this is Geumhyuk, Baron, Ace, Jacob, Ziu, and Lou." Each waved with a polite 'hello' after their name was said. Your eyes lingered on the last boy for a second before you waved back politely. Damn he's cute. You thought to yourself before he shyly looked away. You took a seat in front of Lou, since it was the only seat available (not that you were complaining). You stole glances at him every once in a while throughout the night, not noticing him doing the same. Dawon, however, did notice the shy little glances Lou would throw your way before his ears turned red and a small smile would spread across his face. Dawon smiled brightly and nudged Ayno with his elbow, making him look up at him in confusion. Dawon quickly gestured to you and Lou, and they looked at each other with determination in their eyes.

     You were laughing at a joke Lou had said as you left the restaurant. You didn't notice how he smiled at your laugh with a sparkle in his eyes. Dawon and Ayno smiled at each other before Dawon told Hwiyoung to get in their car while you were distracted and gestured for the other van to drive away. When you turned back around, you were confused to see Hwiyoung in your seat.

     "Oh, man, sorry. Hey Ayno, could one of you give her a ride home?" Dawon yelled over to him. Ayno smiled brightly and nodded his head, running over to you before dragging you to their van. As Geumhyuk was moving to sit beside Lou, Ayno pulled him out and moved him to the front seat.

     "What the hell are you doing?" Geumhyuk asked Ayno as everyone got situated in the car. Ayno quietly gestured to the rear view mirror, showing him Lou's blushing face as you situated yourself next to him. Geumhyuk smiled giddily, before he got an idea.

     "Hey, Ayno, I'm sure a lot of us are tired, so you could drop us off at the dorms and someone could stay and drive her home." Ayno smiled brightly at the suggestion. 

     "That's a good idea. Hey Lou, why don't you drive her back home?" Jacob was about to protest, saying he could just drive her home since he wasn't that tired, but Ace elbowed him in the side and shook his head no. Jacob looked at him in confusion.

     "I'll explain it to you when we get inside." He whispered to Jacob as they pulled into the dorm parking lot. The rest of the members jumped out of the car before Ayno threw a stuttering Lou the car keys and ran to the dorm room with the other members. You both sat in silence for a moment before you unbuckled and opened the car door.

     "Well, we better get moving. It's already pretty late." You said as you moved to the front seat. Lou nodded and followed closely behind you before cranking the car and driving where you directed him. You were both laughing at a story you told as you pulled into your driveway. 

     "Well, here we are…" you said sadly as you unbuckled. You paused before opening the door and turned to him.

     "Can I have your number? It's just that I wanna keep talking to you and I think we should definitely hang out again sometime soon." He smiled brightly before pulling out his phone to get your number.

     "Yeah, definitely! Except, um, maybe next time we could go somewhere else… with just the two of us?" He asked quietly and looked up at you with a nervous smile and red ears. You softly smiled and chuckled at his suggestion.

     "Are you asking me on a date?" He paused with a panicked expression.

     "W-would you say yes if I was?" You laughed.

     "Of course I would." He let out a breath and smiled brightly at you.

     "Then, yes. Y-yes I am."

     "Great, I'll see you later then."

     "W-wait!" He exclaimed as you moved to open your door. You turned and looked at him quizzically as he coughed awkwardly.

     "I-I'll walk you to your door." You softly smiled and nodded. You paused again when you made it to your door before turning to give him a kiss on the cheek at the same time he turned to say goodbye, making your lips collide. Both of your eyes widened but neither of you pulled away. You slowly closed your eyes and brought your hand up to cup his face. Lou closed his eyes as well and leaned into your touch. He didn't notice the small, submissive whine that fell past his lips until you pulled away. Your eyes widened as you heard the sound and he jerked backwards, covering his mouth after he realized what he did.

     "Fuck, I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I probably weirded you out, I'm sorry! You can rethink the date if you want, I just-" you cut off his rambling as you pulled his head towards you and kissed him again, harder than you had before and pulled away after a few seconds. 

     "Fuck, that was hot. I want you to make that sound again." He whined again as you bit his lower lip and shoved your tongue in his mouth. You groaned against his lips and dragged him inside, kicking the door closed behind you and locking it. You brought him into another heated kiss as you pressed him against the wall, making him let out a low moan at your dominating aura.

     "You sound so fucking pretty baby." He whimpered and felt his legs buckle beneath him at the low growl in your voice. The only thing keeping him up was the tight grip you had on his waist as you bit and sucked on his neck.

     "F-fuck, please…" he whined out and gripped your shoulders as you brought your knee up between his thighs, letting him grind his hard-on against it.

     "Please what? You're gonna have to be more specific, babyboy." He bit his lip at the pet name and grinded his hips against your leg faster.

     "Please fuck me! Please!" He managed to say between moans. You smirked against his neck and dragged him to your bedroom. He was panting heavily by the time you had him pinned beneath you on the bed. You let him catch his breath as you took off his shirt and pressed light butterfly kisses down his chest and stomach. You licked a stripe from above his belly button to the underside of his jaw, making him squirm beneath you with a low moan. You bit down on the junction of his neck to make him moan louder.

     "O-oh fuck, please touch me! Fuck, please mommy!" You stopped your actions for a second as you let his words sink in. You could see his face burn bright red in embarrassment, the redness also visible on his ears and all the way down to his chest. Your pupils dilated at the name and you harshly grinded your hips to meet his. He let out another deep moan at the friction as his grip on your shoulders tightened, leaving marks from where his nails dug into your skin.

     "You know just what to say to rile me up, don't you baby? Fuck- if you keep saying things like that I'm gonna have trouble holding back." You grunted out through quiet moans as you continued to grind your hips into his. He whined and bucked his hips to occasionally meet yours.

     "Then d-don't hold back." He moaned in your ear and moved his hands to remove your shirt and jacket, throwing them to the side as he kissed down your newly exposed chest.

     "Are you sure baby? I wouldn't want to do anything you're… uncomfortable with." You said as you squeezed Lou's ass, smirking at the shakey moan he let out when you pressed your finger lightly over where his asshole was.

     "Please!" He whined out loudly, continuously moving his hips back on your fingers as you squeezed his ass again.

     "Please what?"

     "S-shit- Please mommy! I need you! Want your fingers fucking me so hard I forget my own name! P-please mommy!" You bit your lip to hold back the loud moan you almost let out and moved to take off his pants quickly. He whimpered under you as you palmed him through his boxers and kissed and sucked on his thighs, leaving even more marks. He let out a loud moan followed by a needy whimper when you pressed a kiss to his cock over his boxers. You quickly removed your own pants before taking off his boxers, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach. You left a trail of kisses up his thighs before licking a stripe slowly up the underside of his dick. His eyes rolled back as he grabbed the pillow under his head and moaned at the feeling of your tongue on him. While he was distracted with your mouth pressing kisses to and occasionally licking his thighs and cock, you grabbed lube from your bedside cabinet and spread some over your fingers.

     "F-fuck!!!" He whimpered out loudly as you thrusted your fingers slowly into him. The room filled with his moans as they gradually got louder, until his back arched off the bed and he let out a higher pitched moan (it wasn't that high pitched since his voice is naturally so deep, but was higher than it had been the rest of the night).

     "AH! R-Right there! F-fuck- Mommy!! F-feels so good!" You thrusted your fingers into him even faster, abusing that spot as much as you could. He was moaning so loud you were sure the whole street could hear him. You moved your other hand to start pumping his dick as you pressed your lips to his in a heated kiss to quiet him down a little bit to make sure you wouldn't get a noise complaint. He whined and whimpered against your lips as he felt your tongue move in his mouth, exploring it's new territory before you pulled away. You brushed your lips lightly over the dark marks you left of his neck, making him whimper louder as he squirmed beneath you.

     "Do you like the marks mommy left on you baby?" You asked condescendingly as you sped up the pace of both of your hands. His eyes rolled back in his head as his mouth fell open, not making a sound. Your hand that was on his dick squeezed tightly, making his thighs shake as he let a loud moan fall from his lips. Drool was now beginning to seep out of the corner of his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut in euphoria.

     "Mommy asked you a question babyboy. Do you like being marked up like this?"

     "F-fuck-YES! Ngh- wanna show e-everyone who I belong to!"

     "Who owns you baby? I want to hear you say it." He whimpered before moaning out his answer as he threw his head back and gripped your shoulders.

     "Y-YOU! FUCK- You do mommy!! S-shit!! I'm mommy's property! N-no one else can touch me like m-mommy can!" You felt his dick twitch in your grip and looked down to see how red it was.

     "You can cum now baby."

     "T-thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank y-you!!" Lou started mumbling incoherently beneath you as he moved to pull at his already messy hair with more drool falling down his chin. His hips began bucking against you wildly as his thighs shook. Loud moans and curses fell from his mouth before he came as he yelled out a broken and hoarse 'mommy'. You slowed the pace of both of your hands, letting him ride out his orgasm, before you took your hands off of him. You pressed loving kisses up his neck, over his jaw, and finally landing on his perfectly soft lips. He weakly wrapped his arms around your neck as you pulled the blanket that was beside you up and wiped the cum off his stomach and chest before lazily balling it up and throwing it in the laundry basket. You got up from the bed and moved to the door to get him some water from the kitchen.

     "W-where are you going?" He weakly asked from behind you. You turned around and saw him looking up at you through his eyelashes with glossy eyes. You rushed over and pressed some comforting kisses to his lips.

     "I'll be right back baby, I'm just gonna get you some water, alright." He nodded, pressing one last kiss to your lips before you walked out of the room. True to your word, you returned a few minutes later with a glass of water in your hands. You handed him the glass, watching him take a few gulps before setting it down on the bedside cabinet. 

     "Do you want your boxers?" He looked at you with sadness in his eyes, misunderstanding your words. You grabbed boths sides of his face and gave him a light peck on his nose.

     "No no no no, I'm not asking you to leave, sweetheart. I was just thinking that it would be easier for you to sleep if you had some form of clothes on." He sighed in relief before nodding his head. You picked up his boxers and tossed them to him, letting him get comfortable before you wrapped your arms around him and let him cuddle into you. You heard his breathing slow, indicating that he was asleep, before you kissed his forehead one last time and fell asleep with a content smile on your face.

[banashee]

i"I have way too many stories already planned" I said. “I can’t write in multiple fandoms at once, it will throw me off” I said. “OK so I’ll just get this out of my system real quick” I said. “Well shit, I’ve gotten more ideas now that I’ve started…” I said, determinded to face it - I have a problem. Just a small one… Who am I kidding. Send help.

Also, this is the first time I’ve written for this fandom. I’ve loved and enjoyed TMA for a while now, not just the pod but also fanworks. And now I’m joining in on the fun and you folks will have to deal with it :D ♥

This story got inspired by a conversation on Reddit with Swiftysmoon. Thank you very much for the inspo! This one is for you :)

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edit. sorry about the missing ReadMore cut, Tumblr is programmed like a pile of garbage and removed it after I edited a typo...I’ve added it back in now.

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please mind the tags and warnings

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 Into the Void

Truth be told, Jon never planned on this to happen. Of course not - it is ridiculous and more than a little embarrassing, but he can’t help himself.

See, the thing is, Jon is a restless, anxious person in general. He’ll hide away in his office for hours, typing away or recording statements in solitude, only interrupted when someone actually wants something from him. That, or when Martin brings him yet another cup of tea, checking if he’s still alive or starved to death on his desk.

No kidding - Martin had told him this, once, and although he’d been half-joking at the time, the underlying message had been very clear.

‘Please take care of yourself, you worry me.’ - it had been oddly sweet, and Jon still has no idea how to even react to this kindness.

But the thing is - Jon has nervous habits. While his mind is wandering and he is buried neck-deep in his work, he tends to fiddle. Mostly with pens, or anything else he can reach on his desk. That would be fine - no one notices it, unless they stand right next to him. But Jon had almost choked on the pen he’d been chewing on, lost in thoughts while reading his notes, omn more than one occasion. Mostly thanks to Tim bursting into the room like the whirlwind he is.

For one, Tim Stoker just doesn’t knock. Ever. He enters a room as loud and cheerful as he does anything else, and it can be a bit unnerving. Still, he somehow manages to be a professional and be really good at his job. That and the fact that there is  ‘Chaos’ written all over him makes for an odd combination sometimes, but they’re all somewhat used to this.

So, when Tim suddenly sticks his head into the room with a cheerfully casual

“Hey, Boss!”

Jon startles and nearly stabs himself in the throat with a pen while he scrambles to make it look like he  didn’t chew on it the entire time. He needs to preserve some sort of professionalism around here, even though he feels a little bit lost sometimes.

He glares halfheartedly, trying to keep whatever is left of his composure in place. Tim shoots him a bright smile with finger guns, then he rattles off the information that Jon had asked him for not long ago.

Thankful that he doesn’t have to explain himself, Jon launches onto it.

      As time goes on, things around the institute get more and more weird. One thing adds to the other, and suddenly, they’re at war against worms all over the place. They spend their days at the institute armed with fire extinguishers and in Martin’s case, a corkscrew. Martin even lives there now, which adds a whole different level to it all.

Really, it is not surprising that they rarely ever get any outside visitors down in the archives. They have a bit of a reputation for being weird, and truth be told, Jon can’t find any fault in the people who assume that. If he wasn’t involved - if he didn’t  know  what lurks out there, in the shadows, he’d have thought the same.

Pushing his own dismissive, sceptic act is getting harder and harder these days, but it doesn’t stop Jon from trying.

Even after Jane Prentiss’ attack, Jon tries to keep up that act. It’s clearly faltering now, though, which may or may not be partially due to the fact that he confessed to Martin that yes, he does believe and he is terrified. It’s been an awkward conversation, to say the least, and not just because Jon pretty much asked if Martin was a ghost and despite Martin stabbing him with the corkscrew. To be fair, he’d apologized profusely for that, and while Jon is not happy about it, he is thankful for his attempt to get the damn worms out of him. Just thinking about it still makes him shudder, makes him lay awake at night.

On the plus side, their team in the archives has grown much closer to one another - it eases the anxiety and paranoia, just a bit.

      Jon finds himself busy, not to say, utterly distracted. Time flies, and he takes even less care of himself than he did before. He practically lives off tea, and whatever food is offered where Martin, Tim and Sasha drag him along to.

Jon acts prickly and annoyed as always, but in reality, he appreciates their efforts. Lord knows, he isn’t sure he deserves this kindness, but he still makes an effort. These three people are all he’s got, after all. They’re the only group of allies who have any sort of idea what is really going on in the archives, and that alone is enough to have him lower his walls just a bit.

One day, Jon keeps blowing an annoying, grey-streaked strand of his otherwise dark hair out of his face. He didn’t have the time or energy to get a haircut lately - there are much more pressing matters to take care of. But his hair is currently at the awkward in-between length that he hated years ago, when he decided to grow it out. He’d kept it long, up until shortly before his promotion to head archivist. Only then he parted with the shoulder length ponytail in an attempt to be perceived as more professional.

It doesn’t feel right - never did. And as much as he hates the annoying strands falling in his face, it makes him feel like he is back on the way to himself. Or at least as much as he can these days.

Especially in the face of, well, everything else, it is a small comfort. Right now though, Jon is annoyed - he takes a pen from his desk, and sticks it behind his ear to hold back the constantly falling piece of hair - it works.

Jon only notices the pen again when he is about to go to bed that night - he huffs, places it onto the small desk in his bedroom and then crawls under the covers. Once he is in bed, Jon is waiting for the insomnia and the nightmares to keep him awake, despite his best attempts to fall asleep.

He is long used to both, but the last few months have been significantly more stressful.

The next day, Jon is exhausted. He barely makes it into the kitchen for some coffee, then he drives to the institute, the pen forgotten back home. Oh well - he’ll bring it back in another day - no big deal.

Except, it becomes a Thing, with a capital T.

Jon is chewing on and fumbling with his pens as usual, recording statement after statement and doesn’t exactly realize what he is doing. He hides away, until one of the others drags him away from the desk for inconvenient human needs like food and company, but really, he goes willingly now. All he needs is a small reminder.

The bit of human warmth and company means a lot to Jon, and he soaks it up as much as he allows himself to. Trusting people is a struggle for him. His relationship with each and every coworker is definitely a work in progress, but he is willing to try, anyway.

One night, Martin points to the side of Jon’s neck in quiet amusement.

“Oh, you’ve got ink on you - yes, right there.” he touches the spot behind his own ear. Jon blinks, and when he tries to wipe it away, his hand comes away with yet another goddamn pen.

It joins a small pile of accidentally stolen pens on Jon’s desk back home - he’s been meaning to bring them back ages ago, but he keeps forgetting. At this point, he refuses to drop them all off at once, because that would definitely catch someone’s attention - and attention is the last thing he wants right now. Add in the fact that this is, well, ridiculous and embarrassing… No. Just no.

Jon looks around the room, heat creeping up his face even though there is no one around to look at and judge him - then he opens an empty drawer in his desk. The pens disappear with one swift movement of his arm before Jon slams the drawer shut. There - done.

And this is how, what Jon secretly calls his “Desk Drawer of Shame”, comes into existence.

      Occasionally, a small handful of pens will make its way back into the archives. But at this point, they’re way, way too many to bring back at once, at least not without pissing off Elias. That is, if he isn’t chuckling at the ridiculous and mysteriously high cost of office supplies in the last few months.

At the very least, Jon would be at the receiving end of some good natured ribbing from his coworkers in the foreseeable future.

Jon is reading the last few lines of a statement, when the door to his office opens up after a quick knock. He looks up with a frown, which is more habit than anything at this point, and quickly drops his feet back on the ground. At least, he isn’t chewing on a pen this time.

Standing in the doorway, shooting him a small smile, is Martin and he is waiting for Jon to finish recording the last few lines. Only when the familiar

“Statement ends.” marks the end of the recording session, he starts talking.

“Hi! Uh, did you have lunch yet?”

Jon didn’t, and Martin knows it, but he is trying to go the polite route before his motherhen-mode is activated and he physically drags the man away from the desk in an attempt to make him take a break.

So, Jon smiles back, which still feels a bit foreign in a work context, but he secretly enjoys the spark of happiness on Martin’s face when he does. Not like he focuses on that or anything…

“No, I- I didn’t. Did you have something in mind?” he asks as he gets up and pulls his jacket from the back of his chair. It’s a welcome distraction from his work.

Jon didn’t sleep, again, and he can tell that he is getting sloppy and way more irritable than usual. Chances are, getting a bite to eat and spending some time out of the institute with a friend will do him some good.

On the way out, Jon falls comfortably into step with Martin. Plenty of thoughts cross his mind, and he chooses to ignore all of them. In fact, he’d been so busy staring up at a cluster of freckles on Martin’s cheek that he doesn’t even notice what he tells him about the little café that he was planning to visit. Only when he stops talking, obviously waiting for an answer, Jon nods, hoping that Martin actually asked him a yes-or-no question.

For now, it seems to be enough, and they enjoy their lunch break. Jon is still lost in thoughts though.

That night, he is unable to sleep once again, as his mind keeps him wide awake and Jon is shaking apart under the blanket. There are two new pens on his desk, and it feels like they’re glaring at him. It’s ridiculous - they really are the least of his worries. Jon is just distracted, that’s all.

      There is ink on his neck. Again. Jon swipes at it in mild annoyance, inwardly cursing himself for being so careless. His movement catches Tim’s attention, and then his eyes wander to the pen that is stuck halfway to Jon’s ponytail - it’s for convenience, really - but it’s clearly the cause for the ink scribbles on his skin.

Tim puts the pieces together and grins. He is way too easily amused about this, but to be fair, they get their laughs whenever they can these days. And this is still much better than the silent, angry version of Tim that tends to come out more and more and the last few months. At least, when he’s laughing, he isn’t that.

Small favors.

      The more distracted Jon grows, and the longer his hair gets, the more pens he keeps losing - or more like, forgetting - in it.

He doesn’t realize that he is doing it, really, until someone - mostly Martin or Tim these days, because Sasha is (gone) (different ) absent - walks up and plucks one of the pens right out of his hair in order to use it. Jon should be annoyed, but he can’t bring himself to be. It’s oddly comforting that the two of them are still willing to seek him out. Because that’s what this is - there are plenty of pens around, of course.

There is no need to come into his office, to come close to him just to get office supplies. They’re here because they want to, and that honestly means the world to Jon.

As much as he’d tried to keep them at arm’s length, he’s failed miserably. Thankfully so - things would be much, much worse if they had to deal with everything on their own.

      “Hang on - how many bloody pens are in there?” Martin asks one day, calling over from the other room. He looks up in utter confusion while already cracking up with  laughter.

“Wait, are those-?”

Oh goddammit.

Apparently, that’s what happens when Jon answers absentmindedly when asked for the location of a pen in his apartment.

He needs to renovate his kitchen, because the landlord just won’t do it in any reasonable amount of time, so Jon is in old jeans and an even older T-shirt, packing dishes and kitchenware into boxes with Martin and Tim. The two of them had been kind enough to offer help, so that’s why they’re all piled in Jon’s small apartment on a Saturday morning.

Partway through, they realize that they should probably label the boxes, and soon after, Martin stands in the bedroom, opening not the stationary drawer, but The Secret Drawer of Shame With Accidentally Stolen Pens From The Institute.

“Oh, good lord.” With an audible ‘thump’, Jons forehead collides with the kitchen table. His glasses sit crooked now, and he doesn’t lift his head up while he tries to explain, and despite being flustered, he manages to keep that certain tone of voice that’s usually reserved for work hours.

“I, yes. I may have accidentally taken a pen or two with me and only realized it here. Coming back into work with all of them at once seemed… well. Not ideal at the time.”

“No wonder when you keep storing them in your hair.” Martin comes back, with a handful of pens and a bright smile.

While walking past, he pulls another pen out of Jon’s bun, just to prove his point. A long strand of hair slips forward and falls back into Jon’s face. Meanwhile, Tim has snuck off to peek into the other room out of pure curiosity, then he proceeds to laugh his arse off for the next few minutes.

“You know, we should make it a sport at this point. How much stationary supplies can we steal until Elias catches wind of it?” Tim offers, because of course he does.

It is ridiculous and childish, so naturally, it quickly becomes A Thing.

Anything to get a tiny bit of satisfaction is a valid option at this point, and besides, it’s not like Jon is trying to be sneaky or anything. It just happens , like so many things these days.

      As it turns out, Elias doesn’t care. None of them is stupid enough to assume he doesn’t know - the bastard knows everything, that’s part of their problem. He just never calls any of them out on it - if it is because it’s too unimportant or if he is getting a chuckle out of it as well, they never find out.

At some point, late at night when all three of them had a few drinks, they’re brave enough to joke about what fear entity would be responsible for a never ending void filled with pens (“A.K.A you desk drawer of shame, Jon. Have another drink, you’re annoyingly sober for this conversation.”)

It’s a half-serious debate, and one which they continue every once in a while. Most notably so at the institute’s christmas party, huddled in a corner where they’re mostly being left alone. And if that is mostly due to Jon glaring holes through anyone daring to come close, just a hair away from actually hissing and snarling, well. He didn’t get his reputation of being rude and prickly for nothing.

      All of this turns into fond memories, once everything has gone to hell.

Jon is freshly awake from six months of coma, and the world around him has changed. Martin is barely around and Tim is  dead . So is Sasha, even though they never knew, for the longest time.

All of this hurts badly enough to stop him from breathing every once in a while, and after a series of even more tangled and unfortunate events, Jon finds himself huddled close to Martin on a train.

They’re on their way to Scotland and neither of them talks much, but they’re unwilling to let go of the other’s hand. The air is chilly, even inside the wagon, and Martin is still shivering under layers of jumpers and jackets.

The Lonely has settled deep into his bones, and sometimes, it’s like he is fading away again. Every time this happens, the steady warmth of Jon keeps pulling him back.

Jons hand is smaller and bonier in Martin’s own large, soft hand, but it’s grip is steady and warm. His thumb keeps stroking gently over the back of his hand while he is holding it, and it is the most loved Martin has felt in a long time.

Eventually, he manages to relax enough to doze off for a bit. While his head find’s it’s way down and onto Jon’s shoulder, he can feel the slight poke of a plastic pen that is sticking out of his hair.

Martin almost smiles, and squeezes back when Jon tightens the grip around his hand and settles against him.

    They keep finding the damn things around the safehouse, because frankly, they’re everywhere. And that’s just whatever Jon had on his person out of sheer habit. Lord knows, his hair has grown way past his shoulders by now, and more often than not, he keeps it up and out of the way with whatever is around him at the time.

Mostly, it’s pens.

At first, they��re just  there , and both Jon and Martin have about a million other things to think of and to deal with than a few too many office supplies laying around.

The exhaustion, both physically and emotionally, leaves them absolutely drained and dead to the world.

It is bad enough so that they crawl into bed almost as soon as they have arrived and inspected the small cabin. The question of whether or not they’re going to share the bed isn’t even raised - neither of them is willing to let go of the other. All the way from London to up here, they’d held hands to reassure themselves that they wouldn’t lose each other, and they’re not about to stop now.

It is a lot easier to remind each other that they’re not alone when all they need to do is focus on the breath and heartbeat of one another. Focusing on the heat radiating under the blankets, where they are embracing throughout the night to keep the nightmares and the ever growing anxiety at bay.

They have plenty of bad days when everything just creeps up at them and even talking is too much. Those days, they spend curled up in front of the fire or in bed, holding on tight for as long as they need to in order to feel more alive again.

After a while, they’re able to relax more. Martin is much warmer and solid now, doesn’t fade away into the fog without noticing. It’s happening less and less now - whether or not he will be able to shake off The Lonely entirely, neither of them knows, but he is happy about every step in the other direction.

Jon is just as happy to see him doing better, and he tells him as much over breakfast, smiling as he tangles their legs under the table.

There are two pens already stuck in his hair, holding it up in two buns. It’s probably from when he read a statement from the stack of files and tapes that Basira sent over the other day.

The statement has definitely taken the edge off of things for Jon. Now he can sit at the kitchen table with his boyfriend and enjoy a cup of tea instead of growing weaker and weaker with hunger for statements. As ironic as it is, it makes him feel more human, even though he is no longer fully human. He’s pretty sure of it.

“I love you.” Martin tells him, because it is true and he likes saying it as often as possible, now that he can. It sends a spark of warm happiness through his chest, and it is bright enough to chase away the cold fog that’s still lingering sometimes - just for a bit.

“I love you, too.”

He’ll never get tired of hearing this.

“I love you” they say, as they drink tea in the morning and eat freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven.

“I love you” they say, as they walk hand in hand through the cobblestone streets down in the village, on their way to buy groceries and look at the little local shops.

“I love you” they say, as they step around each other in the tiny kitchen while cooking dinner, distracting one another with kisses until one of them remembers the food or notices the charred smell of something burning. It’s only then that they break apart, cursing and laughing all at once.

“I love you” they say, as they spend nights wide awake, holding on tightly through their grief and fear. They say it out loud or whisper it into the darkness, comforting one another as best as they can.

“I love you”, they whisper through silence and tears, but they say it just as much through smiles and laughter.

“I love you” they say, after every single argument. Their love for each other is strong, so much so that they’re certain they will be able to figure out the rest. Whether that’s the end of the world as they know it or anything else doesn’t matter.

“I love you” Martin says, after he walks up behind Jon and plucks one of the pens out of his hair. There are at least two more, and besides, Martin woke up this morning with a few lines of poetry in the back of his mind. He wants to write them down before he forgets - maybe, just maybe, he can  turn them into  something beautiful.

“I love you.” Jon says, and he pulls Martin closer by the front of his pyjama shirt, turning around just enough to be able to press a quick kiss to his lips. The movement leaves them both in an awkward position, hanging over the back of the sofa with their glasses askew.

Martin has one of his arms wrapped around Jon, who is holding on tight, happily leaning into him with a quiet, happy satisfaction on his face. Clearly, he is enjoying this an awful lot.

No doubt, if it wasn’t for the hold onto the sofa Martin has with his other, he’d have toppled over and fallen right into the smaller man’s lap. And maybe that’s exactly what Jon is trying to do - who knows. He is way more affectionate than either of them would have thought possible, really.

They remain wrapped up in the tight hug, and neither of them wants to let go yet.

                                     Notes:  

Warnings: - Off-screen canon character death mentioned - insecurity - Loneliness - Trust issues - if you want me to add anything please let me know

[burtlederp]

Grant(3), Caleb(4), Caetan(35), Tiburon(49) oops,, its a lot, huh? Your characters are just awesome hAHA sorrYY

Nooo don’t apologize thank YOU!!! I’M sorry for taking so long to respond!!!

Putting stuff under a readmore because holy hell there’s a lot of it

3. What is/was Grant’s relationship with his father like? tw: drugs, drugs, and more drugs; child abuse a la neglect

He’s laying on his back in the middle of his apartment, staring at the domed ceiling overhead. Coherent thoughts are far and few between, his mind muddled by the haze that fills it, fills the room, the whole apartment. Before he’d started smoking, he’d known he’d regret stealing so much weed, but for now, he didn’t. He floated in a peaceful bliss, utterly serene. No thoughts in, no thoughts out. Just smoke, curling and floating around him. Shapes moved amongst the haze, too faint to identify, passing, shifting forms. People, perhaps, walking by, walking around him. Legs passing by, nobody ever stopping to look down at him. People milling about, paces slowing, soon they’re coming and going. They enter the room, they talk, they leave after a brief exchange of currencies. His father is sitting behind him, on the couch. He’s high too, he’s always high, Grant can just barely see the shadows of his father’s hunched form when he tips his head back. His father never relaxed when he was high. He always became even higher strung, if that was possible. He only calmed down when he had heroin in his veins, or something stronger. 

Grant couldn’t see the face of the smoky form of his father. There wasn’t one. In his memory, there never had been. His father in the transient construction of smoke was as accurate as any depiction Grant could have conjured on his own. Never present, never really there, always drugged out of his mind, never sober. Just the same as the haze that filled the house permanently. 

4. Has Caleb ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed him? If so, does anyone else know? tw: war is hell, child abuse a la war is fucking hell, no I’ve not read the Silmarillion I just like the idea of Tom Bombadil don’t @ me

Caleb scrubbed his face on his arm and shivered, pulling the tattered cloth he called a blanket tighter around himself. It’d been raining for days now, with no end in sight, and it had transformed the prairie into a mudscape. He and one other lone figure huddled around a tree that stood tall in the midst of the brown sea, one solitary rise of solid ground, one lone spot of relative shelter. 

“B-beautiful weather, innit?” the other, the stranger, chuckled. It was the first thing they’d said since they arrived. They’d showed up last night, flopping down against the tree and falling asleep. Caleb had kept his distance, kept still, not showing any inclination of actually being alive. He didn’t reply to the stranger’s comment on the weather.

“Not in th’ mood ‘fer talkin’? Thas’ a’ight…” they sighed after a long minute, realizing Caleb wouldn’t respond. “An’ I know yer’ not asleep, ‘cause iss’ too cold t’be sleepin’ right now.” Caleb still didn’t respond. He was wary of the person. There was no such thing as a stranger with ulterior motives. 

“Don’ worry, I got enough words fer’ th’ both of us,” the stranger, a man, Caleb realized over the constant sound of rain, scoffed. Caleb looked heavenward, praying silently. 

Please, no, don’t let him talk, Caleb prayed, but unfortunately the gods were not on his side in this moment. 

“I’ve met a god before. Now, I know what yer’ thinkin’--’you? Dionisio? Seen a god? Ha! As if!’ But I tells ya’, I met ‘em. Hell if I’m to know which one he was or what he did or whatnot, but I met ‘im and he was a fabulous fella. Called ‘imself Tom, of all things. Can ye’ believe that? A god, named Tom! Ah, I hardly believed it myself when ‘e said it.” Caleb sighed, rubbing his face. The man’s name was Dionisio, and he was crazy. Excellent. I’m stuck out here in the middle of nowhere with a crazy man who’s likely going to kill and eat me. 

A distinct crunch cut off Caleb’s train of thought. It wasn’t a sickening crunch, like a breaking bone or the like, but like a bite into an apple, a fresh, crisp apple. Caleb spun around, looking around the tree to see the man, as crinkled and wrinkled and dirty and filthy as he had sounded and smelled, leaned comfortably against the tree. His dark, beady eyes twinkled as Caleb stared at him.

“Mm, I knew that’d get yer’ attention!” he laughed, a hand lowering to his side. Before Caleb could react, jump back from the man’s drawn sword--he realized the man hadn’t drawn a sword at all. It was another apple. He held out the bright red fruit to Caleb. “Go on n’ take it, lad, y’probably more starved than I am!” 

Caleb sat there, hesitating, eyes flickering between the apple and the man, weighing his options. He could take the apple, but… what did he want in return? Was the apple cursed? Poisoned? Was this a trick? He backed up a step warily, like a shy animal.

“Ayee, I’m not gonna ‘urt you! I jus’ wanna give y’ somethin’ t’eat. I swear I ain’t mean nuthin’ by it,” Dionisio insisted, holding the apple out further. Caleb stared, waiting. Dionisio tilted his head, giving a wry smile. “C’mon laddie. I ain’t mean ye no harm, c’mon.” His voice softened as he spoke, getting a little quieter, more gentle, not so rough and abrasive like the coarse mud that surrounded them. Caleb swallowed, his stomach twisting. It’d been days since he’d eaten. He didn’t remember when he’d last eaten. And here it was, food, offered with no strings attached. It was too good to be true. But his hunger overrode his instincts now and he snatched the apple from the man’s hand, leaping away right after. 

“Aye, there we go, there we go, see? An’ I didn’ even ‘urt ye!” Dionisio chortled, watching as Caleb devoured the apple. The old man kept smiling, but it faded somewhat as the small, one-armed boy ate. “Ye been hit as ‘ard as anyone else by this war, ain’t ye?” 

Caleb, chewing, looked up briefly at the man through messy, curly, wet black hair that fell in his eyes. He nodded, ever so slightly. 

“Ye… Ain’t we all…” Dionisio sighed, letting his head rest against th’ tree. “I got more apples fer’ ye if ye want ‘em after that ‘un.” Caleb frowned.

“Why?” Caleb was surprised as the sound that came from his throat was not one he recognized. It was a croak, rough and unused. Though it had been… well, Caleb didn’t even know the last time he’d spoken. He cleared his throat and tried again, questioning the man. Dionisio huffed a laugh.

“‘Why’? Whaddya’ mean, ‘why’?” the old man looked to him with a grin. “‘Cause I want to, and ye look half-dead, and ye barely a child! Ye need it more than I do.”

“But….” Caleb looked down at the core of the apple in his hand. “You could last so much longer if you kept them to yourself.”

“But you’ll last so much longer if I don’t, won’t ye?” Dionisio pointed out simply. “That’s reason enough fer’ me.” A spot of red appeared in Caleb’s peripheral vision, and he raised his head to see another apple being offered to him, Dionisio smiling. Caleb took it slowly.

“No… no other goal…?” Caleb asked cautiously, and Dionisio shook his head.

“None. I jus’ wanna see ye get outta’ this war alive, lad.”

Caleb leaned back against the tree as Dionisio kept telling his story, listening out of one ear as he thought about the apple. Food, so precious in this time of war and chaos, and he’d given it away freely. 

Perhaps there are good people in this world, still… Caleb thought as Dionisio talked and talked and talked, and it rained and rained and rained.

35. How does Caetan behave around people he likes? in a word: badly tw: implied to-happen noncon/r*pe

Caetan drummed his fingers on the bartop, chin resting in his other hand. He nudged his drink around a bit, bored. He didn’t really know what he was here for. Well, he did, he knew very well. He’d been more than busy the past couple weeks, and was yearning for some company. But he wasn’t sure what mood he was in. 

And then someone sat down a few seats from him at the bar and he did a double-take. A man, maybe 6-foot-one, with short, dark hair that was well-kept, well-styled. Lean, well-muscled, but not brawny. His face was narrow, and by god that was the most perfect nose Caetan had ever seen in his life. 

Caetan realized what mood he was in and got to his feet.

“This seat taken?” Caetan inquired. The man turned, looking up at him with deep, chocolate-y brown eyes that made Caetan pray the man said no because his knees were about to give out. The man shook his head, and Caetan tried to slip into the seat without giving away how weak he was already. “You here alone tonight?”

“I am,” the stranger responded, eyeing Caetan somewhat warily. 

“That’s a shame,” Caetan shook his head. “A beautiful creature like yourself on your own on a Friday night? I’d say that’s a crime against humanity.”

The man stared at him, and Caetan suddenly second-guessed everything he’d said or done already. What had he done wrong? Could he fix it? What--

“I’m straight.” Ah. That’s what’s wrong. Caetan’s face fell a bit.

“Well, damn. You sure?” Caetan sighed.

“Very,” the man replied stiffly.

“That’s an even bigger shame, then,” Caetan grunted, motioning the bartender over. “Let me buy you a drink then, to save some face.”

“No thanks,” the man said quickly, getting to his feet. “Have a good night.” With that, the beautiful stranger turned and walked away. Caetan watched him go, and slowly got to his feet, moving stealthily through the bar as the man headed to the door of the bar, and he followed him out into the night.

49. If Tiburon was put into ______ situation, they’d rather die than live to see it through. I had no idea what to do with this for a looong time, ngl cw: cannablism(?), consumption of human flesh, gore, Tiburon doesn’t give two shits about your ‘ethics’, he’s got his own that he’s following; oh and implied kidnapping, planned torture that never happens

It occurred to Tiburon, now too late, that perhaps he was in over his head. ‘Infiltrate the mafia,’ they said, ‘it’ll be fun,’ they said. ‘You surely won’t be forced to torture and kill someone!,’ they said, he thought bitterly as he stood in front of a man tied firmly to a chair, a black bag over his head. His head was bowed inside the bag, but he wasn’t unconscious; Tiburon could hear the man choking on sobs, shoulders shaking. Tiburon had killed people before, he’d eaten people before, he had no issue with that; it was the torture that made him hesitate. Every time he’d killed, he’d taken special care to not let them suffer, he hated suffering.

And now here he was, being compelled to do it. Well, he would be, it hadn’t happened yet. He was trapped in this shipping container, another man standing by the door, waiting, watching, playing witness to Tiburon’s actions to let the boss know he was legit. Tiburon sighed, rubbing his face. What a fucking inconvenience. Six months--six fucking months of work, all down the drain, just like that. He tortured this man, made him suffer, or they would kill Tiburon. Well, they thought they would. Unfortunately, they were currently on the docks, so Tiburon would make his getaway before they ever knew he’d changed his mind about the work. 

He turned away from the sobbing, bound man to face the guard, crossing his arms. The man, at least a head taller than Tiburon and fifty pounds heavier, every ounce made of muscle, eyed him.

“What?” The man’s voice was exactly what Tiburon had pictured--deep, raspy, heavy. Appropriate.

“Nothing,” Tiburon replied, looking away with a sigh. He rubbed his jaw, thinking. He had to cut to the chase before things started getting iffy. He turned back around and walked close to the guard.

“What’re you doing?” the guard grunted, sizing up the supposed torturer while the supposed torturer did the same to him. Tiburon did not reply, not verbally, grabbing the man by the head and pushing him against the wall. The guard barked in alarm and fought back, but Tiburon was quicker and slippery. Before the large brute could get a good grip on him and make the whole ordeal a lot more trouble, he leapt forward and sank his teeth into the man’s throat. The guard’s shout of alarm quickly twisted into a scream, then into a gargled wail that was silenced as Tiburon pulled away, trachea still in his teeth. The guard slumped to the floor, grasping at his own neck with wide eyes, and Tiburon hated it. A swift kick, and the guard’s body shuddered and went still, skull dented. Tiburon chewed thoughtfully on the trachea for a moment, surveying his work, and went to the captive man. The poor creature yelped in alarm at the touch as Tiburon cut through the zipties, but went quiet as the black hood was yanked off. The man’s eyes went wide as he saw the cartilage in Tiburon’s mouth, the dead body, and scrambled backwards with a terrified shriek.

“No, no, no no no please!” he begged, tears rolling down his cheek, one hand outstretched protectively. Tiburon frowned.

“Don’t worry, I won’t, I just figured it’d be cruel to leave you alone in the summer heat. Toodles.” With that, the merman turned and stepped out of the shipping crate, walking to the edge of the water, at some point discarding the trachea (cartilage wasn’t good eats anyhow) along the way. He dove in, relishing the cool ocean saltwater as it closed over his head, pleasant in the summer heat. 

Six whole months… he thought again as he swam away, his legs fusing into a long tail, skin becoming rough, teeth sharpening. Ah well. Now I know; the mafia isn’t worth the work.

[chowtrolls]

A question for my favorite Liam!! Could you tell me a bit about the trolls you've designed yourself? What's your process like?

It kinda depends on the design, I suppose! I’ve designed 27 of my 52 active trolls! That’s not counting trolls I don’t have on my select, like Chello, Veroix, Skulux, Orcais, Kithon, Jahspr, etc etc. Of those 27, 6 are what i’d consider my Original Trolls, ones who’ve been around for years. In those six you can look and see a LOT of myself! I’m gunna put this under a readmore but I’m gunna talk, like, specifically about a few trolls: Bruuno + Chowow, then Jawska + current Bruuno! Doing those ones specifically so I can also talk about my tattoo design process and how that’s changed!

I think Chowow technically predates Bruuno! At the time I was making them, I was really young, like 13? 14? idk. I made them both on a whim- Chowow was specifically made to be paired w/ his matesprit (he was originally gunna be an olive!) and Bruuno was made as the troll version of a beloved oc named Bruno. I put a LOT of my anger issues and trauma into Chowow, as a method of coping with them. I also VERY distinctly remember the day I looked at Corpse and said “I think Chow’s trans.”-> Saying that also helped me realize I’M trans lol. When Designing Chow, I specifically wanted dog ear shaped horns that were unique, in a way. And because Chow was based off my dog Gia...i just kinda looked at her liddol triangle ears and decided his get 2 be that way. His design has stayed...relatively the same, he got a hair cut but he’s always worn tank tops + shorts. Bruuno specifically was always the guy Who Had Tattoos. Bruuno’s muse was relatively dead for a very long time, he really only like Revived in 2018/2019? His original design was based off the OG OC- curly hair, thin as a rail, scattered tattoos that had little meaning. As Bruuno got quads, he got tattoos AROUND those quads, their symbols. I wasn’t very good at making my own tattoos so he had some that i based off musician’s (such as the squares that i think the drummer from TOP has?). As I aged, Bruuno’s tattoos changed ALL THE TIME there is NO rhyme or rhythm to them. I only looked at him and really, distinctly organized it all, when I saw another fuchsia with nice organized tatts, I think his name was Nihkos?? shrugs u_u Loved that mans. You can so very cleanly track my progress in tattoo design by looking at all of Bruuno’s sprites! Which leads me toooooo.............

..........Jawska! Jawska is, at his root, a Bruuno clone. I thought to myself “Hm. I want a Bruuno Clone.” And Thus Jawska Was Born. Typically when I come up with a character, I let them like. Mellow for a bit. In my brain. Rattle them around like a marble in a cup. And sometimes, I have a very VERY specific niche I want them to fill. For Jawksa, I wanted an asexual character whose asexuality was important to him, who was attractive but distinctly unfuckable. Jawska has some very important Design Notes - Curly hair, Distinct Nose, Slit eyes, 3 gills+fin prongs, broad shoulders+chest. I also seriously sat down and thought about his tattoos. His tattoos mean JACK shit. His chest piece + arms? NOTHING. there’s negative meaning. He got it because it looked sick. There’s SOME meaning, in some places- the blackout on his arm covers an old tattoo and the rings on his fingers are to hide the singular ring he once had. While working on his tattoo, i looked at other tattoos and specifically thought about the body parts that SUCK to get tattoos on. Collar bones, elbows, sternum. And I specifically aimed to leave those a little blank, using the negative space to give purpose but also keep in line w/ what people would normally not tattoo. His outfit is specifically something that doesn’t SCREAM fuchsia but doesn’t HIDE it. Like he’s got his fins and his eyes but he doesn’t wear any fuchsia- wears more red! That reflects how he sees himself: as someone on the bottom of the food chain. He isn’t special or important. He’s not royalty, he doesn’t deserve to wear his symbol or his color. He wears rose gold instead of gold because again, he’s not royalty he doesn’t “deserve” the gold, but also because the warmer rose gold fit better with his pallet. He wears baggy pants and a loose fitting shirt to hide his frame. As someone who was in an abusive relationship and someone asexual, he doesn’t want to be seen or perceived, he absolutely doesn’t want people to look at him and be attracted to him. Cargo pants hide the shape of his hips + legs, baggy shirt hides that broad chest. The tears + tank leave JUST enough open for people to not NOTICE what he’s doing! So it seems deliberate. There’s a few small, unnoticeable pieces of his design that work like cogs in a little machine. You wouldn’t look at him and see his low self esteem, or that he’s hiding. Which is what he wants! 

And now back to Bruuno, my beloved idiot. I was going to do Jolene (i really only made jolene because an old friend mentioned there not being a lot of butch women, so i wanted to try my hand at it! another design thing I enjoy is finding niches or concepts I don’t see a lot of, and try to make my twist on them. jolene’s in the process of being a lil reworked design wise so i won’t talk abt her.) but I figured I could explain the bits and pieces of Bruuno now. Any design I make, at least now, tends to be very similar to Jawska- there’s small, unnoticeable bits and cogs, or themes that work together hand in hand. I could honestly sit here for hours explaining all of it. Bruuno is the only Monark who has both horns- even though he was designed first, I had all his “relatives” lose that C shaped horn. How they lost it is different and important to them but Bruuno having both horns is a way to show he’s Different from them. In ANY outfit he wears, its typically loose-fitting or a tank top, right? He has a dorsal fin that he doesn’t like having pressed down, but he also enjoys having his figure disformed. Wearing baggy, open shirts give him a more carefree appearance, which is why he does it often when in the limelight. His more casual outfits tend to be cargo shorts, tactical pants, sweats, and tank tops. He really wears long pants because they hide the robotic leg. Despite that, they are all loose fitting, comfortable, but still have an “edge” to them. He has JUST enough piercings in to have that lil edge but not be seen as a cocky highblood! Enough to impress but not be flashy. His robotic arm is VERY clearly a robotic arm, but it isn’t one that looks incredibly flashy. He’s a gigantic fuchsia rockstar with a million tattoos, of course he’s going to stand out, he has no need to be even flashier with a high tech super cool arm or a billion piercings. Another important aspect is his hair! There’s SO much story behind his hair i won’t even go into it. Bruuno has always had curly hair because around the time I made his design, I cut off my super long hair and suddenly I was left with a mess of curls. In my own experience, people likes touching my hair w/o asking, i’d get teased all the time, I’d get a fuck ton of unasked for comments ( “you’d look better with straight hair.” “boys would like you better with straight hair.” “curly hair looks messy.” gags. die. choke on a dick.) and I kinda used Bruuno to vent that out? I put my insecurity and frustration with my hair into Bruuno. I was too damn depressed to straighten my hair, so I decided Bruuno gets to go through that. He primarily wears his hair pulled back now because he’s also too depressed to straighten it. ok now im too tired to finish this. u_u 

[bisexual-horror-fan]

I associate you with the colour red- bold and passionate; as well as spice and surprisingly pasta from that one part in Man Of My Dreams where Amber orders it despite Freddy’s criticism! I apologise that today wasn’t kind to you, I hope you feel better soon

Hey Bunny! I love that so many people, you included, assoiciate red with me! It is my favorite color! I am feeling much, much better right now! Thanks for the concern Bunny! And YES! I adore pasta and I love so much that part of TMOMD stuck out to you, for those who do not know to what we are talking about it is this part when Amber and Freddy are out to dinner-

I’ll slap it under a readmore for people who don’t care- but for those who do, let’s do this! A snippet from chapter 32 “Eating Out While Keeping Composure.”  from The Man Of My Dreams

----

“You actually get pasta out at restaurants?”

I put my glass down and looked over to him.

Really?

Okay, he isn’t going to acknowledge what he is doing to me yet, that is fine, just play along.

“Sometimes, why?”

“Because it’s a rip off. Do you know how cheap it is to make good pasta? The mark up is huge.”

This is my life.

Currently asleep and dreaming, dressed up in a fancy restaurant, celebrating the belated birthday of my murderous dream demon fuck buddy. Discussing the high profit margin of pasta in said restaurant, all while I am soaking my panties and left wondering if and when he will turn on the remote controlled bullet vibe in my panties once more.

I let out a small laugh, from what he said and from the thought I had over how ludicrous this situation was, before saying,

“Why do you care so much Fred? It’s not like you’re paying for this dinner.”

“Yeah sure for tonight that is fine, but don’t tell me you are blowing YOUR money on this kind of thing out there.”

He gestured in the general direction of the window facing outside, I knew he meant the world outside the one he makes in dreams and I laughed.

“Oh you want to control what I do with my money too Fred?”

The laughing and joking continued on, and on. I was about to retort back at him for something he said when that damn vibe started back up again, making my sentence die on my lips as I struggled to hold back a moan. The waiter was back, fuck it was time to order, look normal, act normal, don’t let on what is happening right now, shit they were looking at me now.

“Well what did you decide on Amber?”

I took a deep breath and closing my menu I offered it up, looking up at our waiter as I said surprisingly steady.

“I’ll have the pasta.”

A nod, the menu’s collected and he was gone, I reached for my drink again when he asked.

“Really?”

“Really.”

---

God I still love that shit. So glad you love that as much as I do Bunny! That whole chaper is one of my faves!

[jackedspicer]

my worst mistake ever was giving shnitzel a crush on rhubarb because once i started shipping them i was toast

under the readmore are silly tidbits and scenarios taken straight from some of my instagram stories. it’s a bit of fun

“canon” stuff

September 27:

“lordy there are some bits and pieces about rhu and shnitzel i havent talked about yet...

for one thing. i draw them together a disproportionate amount bc in my brain they dont have THAT much screentime. itd be a sorta thing where rhubarb is in whichever episode for reasons and if shnitzel happens to be in the same room then we see the gag where he gets all stiff and DUMB [id previously talked about how he had a crush on her so bad that he locks up and gets real stupid. think of mr gar from ok ko. it’s like That.]

except there’s one episode where it’s brought to the table called Shnitzel’s Crush or some corny shit and it’s 11 minutes of the other characters mercilessly embarrassing him

also he literally never says a word about it to her. the whole time. hes silent. he just likes to give her a hand and help her with errands here and there. like carrying the heavy stuff for her stand n whatnot. she thinks hes this big sweet fella so she gives him presents sometimes

and we know hes supposed to be this big stoic guy but we already know hes a SOFTIE so you can obviously see him being secretly sweet on this nice mom lady”

November 16

“i keep thinking about a Funny Moment where mung calls rhubarb over to the catering company because shes ‘just GOT to see something’

the camera is on shnitzel who is just mopping when the door swings open and the bell rings

rhubarb walks past and says hi to him real quick and a couple beats after shes gone he just

shatters like glass

and then it just cuts to whats happening”

-

“i feel like i need to go into detail about the glass shattering

he maintains a straight face the whole time.. completely unremarkable

and after a few moments, in a fraction of a second his whole personhood CRACKS across with a glass shattering sound effect.. pieces dont fall or anything, it would be as if a window cracked all over because of something loud

his face doesnt even change hes just there all fucked up until the next shot”

-

“more than anything i am about gags where he cant function around her... over time they just get more nonsensical and painful.. i already said the shattering one but i also have one where a boulder just drops from under his apron and cracks the ground like he shat himself

the comedy of his suffering is integral to the experience”

October 5

“shnitzel will do all kinds of stupid shit just because rhubarb asked him to. there is literally no limit he just bites his tongue and does it all cause he’s not disappointing her. it’s all harmless stuff but if anybody else asked he’d be like... No

like as for the beach episode thing i posted, she asks him to bring water buckets for their sand castles, and even though part of him just kind of wants to just do the sand castle, he buckles down and brings those damn buckets! and he cant work up the NERVE to sit next to her and build a sand castle anyway so he accepts it. also chowder is there and there are too many things that could go wrong. this is his life”

November 16

“i want you to know tht rhubarb drives shnitzel to work so he doesn’t have to take the bus [this becoming routine would actually be later on but the following bit is what’s in the visible window of canon]

so the first time she gives him a ride is when he agrees to help her carry some heavy stuff for her business

and he goes up to this kind of oldish snail car and shes like ‘ahh sorry about all the bluenanas.. theyre for a bluenana bread i havent baked yet you can just put those in the back seat’ because the car is literally full of bluenanas

-

and it’s this really awkward drive because there are bluenanas EVERYWHERE and the stack of things hes holding is blocking his vision and hes almost dead silent all while shes making momversation

-

i forgot to mention that was AFTER theyd stopped at her house to get the things

she baked him cinnamini rolls as a thank you but she didnt know he was allergic so he sneezes so hard her roof caves in so they have to call his cousin beef stroganoff [a chowder oc i made ironically] and his son banzo [short for garbanzo] over to fix it [this was a reference to a post on here about a landlord’s son bonzo coming over to fix op’s roof with a blowtorch].. he ends up taking the cinnamini rolls as payment

-

well okay it’s not the first sneeze that caves the roof in, first he sneezes and shes like ‘oh no! im so sorry let me get you a tissue!!!’ n when she comes back theres MORE snot so she leaves again and comes back with a BATH TOWEL and THEN he caves the roof in”

November 5

[i was talking about how rhubarb’s dream was to have her own bakery before i led up to this bit]

“and in the scenario that takes place 20 years in the future, theyre married as id said before, except mung daal is telling chowder ‘because you never grew up, shnitzel got fed up and left the catering company!’

and then we see him happily married and co-running a bakery with rhubarb. as if that’s a bad thing

‘you fucked up, chowder. you ruined a perfectly good shnitzel is what you did. look at him. he’s got dignity.”

November 9

[this next bit can be attached to the previous thing i said. it’s an ongoing Thing but it’s only seen when theyre like obviously married onscreen]

whenever rhubarb calls shnitzel by a little cutesy nickname he gets all bashful.. he cant take it bro

this burly 7 foot man gets called ‘pumpkin pie’ and absolutely melts”

---

*this was all the stuff i had so far on various stories that take place “onscreen” since i figured i’d get caught up and start posting all the junk i had lying around. i have other tidbits too that take place between the sorta goofy window of canon and the 20-year timeskip, which i might get into on another post. thanks for reading xoxo i love u

[darling-child-tisarwat]

Morgan Reads Dune: Part 1

So as I previously stated I’m attempting to read Dune again. I read the first two chapters years ago and bounced off it cuz I hated it so much. I still hate it, and will likely continue to hate it, so yes this is a hate-read.

If you like Dune: cool, I can see how you might even though I don’t. You might not want to read this live-blog tho cuz I will drag the hell out of Herbert and dear special Paulie boy.

This isn’t meant to be taken as serious critique. I’m sure there are plenty of people who have given measured and nuanced critique and analysis of the text who know a lot more than me and are way better writers. Dune clearly is a pillar of Old School Sci-fi, etc etc. The purpose of this live-blog is to help me drag my way through the book to finish it so I can say I did it. That’s it. Also, mild entertainment value for Radchdome.

Dune apparently has no chapters which annoys me further so I’ll be going by page numbers. Basically I’ll do a new live-blog post at every big Manual of Muad’Dib quote, assuming they keep happening consistently in the book. I have the mass marker paperback ISBN 0-442-17271-7 if that helps but probably not.

I would do readmores, but I’m gonna have to do most of this on mobile so I apologize for that.

If you want to blacklist this, I’ll tag all posts with #MorganReadsDune.

Anyway, here we go:

Pages 1 through 13:

“A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct. Except at Waffle House.”

Again I’m like 4 paragraphs in and all my brain is doing is smashing two pans together and screaming about how Paul should have been trans and it would have been a much more complex and satisfying narrative. But you know, Herbert.

Actually losing my mind at the names Paul and Jessica. This is not a unique or new thought, but god. This happened last time but it’s so jarring and I hate it. It’s worse juxtaposed to the Secondary World words like Arrakis and Atreides. Paul. Paul! He sounds like he could be on the Jersey Shore. Jersey Shore: Arrakis Vacation. Anyway I’m still on page 1.

“The awakened boy could see a bulky female shape.” 1. The gendered not-asleep human could see with his sight orbs a human person of exact gender that he knew” 2. Writin’s bad

“Gom Jabbar.” My brain: jabberwocky. Never ending gob stopper. Name of a shitty throw away side character in Star Wars.

Actually hold on I love that I read good sci-fi before any of the “old guard” cuz I just keep reading “reverend mother” and being like “Harrowhark’s corpse mom” so that’s who this woman whose eyes have been described with 3 separate terms is now.

“In all the upset during this time of change, the old woman was the strangest thing he has seen.” That’s just how Cishet men are.

Also: Kwisatz Haderach sounds like something Geralt of Rivia could slay with one hand behind his back just saying.

“There has been so many things to learn.” Head full, many thoughts. “Arrakis-Dune-Desert Planet.” Just keep repeating those vocab words Paulie it’s gonna be on the big Spicy Test later.

“Their mortal enemies, the Harkonnens.” Two households, both alike in dignity. In fair Arrakis where we lay our worms. Also the Harkonnens are my fav because if Paul hates them, I don’t.

“Under a CHOAM Company” Chode company, got it.

“The geriatric spice, melange.” OLD SPICE

“Arrakis-Dune-Desert Planet” stop fucking say that I do NOT need to be reminded.

“Arrakeen” CONLANG MASTER HERBERT OVER HERE. He’s said the work Arrakis 5 times on this page.

“Paul awoke to feel himself in the warmth of his bed—thinking... thinking.” What a window into this characters thoughts...he’s definitely having them. Thoughts.

“The faufreluches” And now we are German.

“Arrakis—Dune—Desert Planet” EARTH—SHIT HOLE—BLUE PLANET

Okay I’m not even going to quote this one but the part where he does meditation and Herbert just uses a shit load of ellipses. Extreme Boomer text message energy. “I’m picking up spice at the store... do you need anything... will be home soon... need to talk to you... bye... :))”

“The animal destroys and does not produce” No?? Animals constantly replenish the land when left to in their native environments?? For a book about ecology, this man knows nothing about food webs and sustainability.

“He studied the tallness of her” Herbert just say she is tall. God.

“... He saw the hint of tension in her shoulders as she chose clothing for him...” WHY IS HIS MOTHER DRESSING HIM. HE’S 15.

I am going to imagine Paul has a pair of shoes with little bells on them, and every time he goes somewhere, the words “here comes a special boy here comes a special boy!!” mixes with the sound of the jingling.

Herbert is obsessed with em dashes and ellipses.

“If only she’d borne us a girl as she was ordered to do!” Now-we-don’t-have-time-to-unpack-all-that.jpg BUT ALSO: Paul-should-be-trans Example-1.

“One gestalten flicker” whole book gonna be like this, huh

“Hair: the Duke’s black-black” Paul Atreides has Vanta Black Hair. Harkonnen House Is Banned From Purchasing Vanta Black Pigment

“...With the browline of the maternal grandfather who cannot be named...” Vold... Voldemort??

THE CUBE. “She turned and Paul saw that one side was open—black and oddly frightening. No light penetrated that open blackness.” VANTA BLACK just like Paulie boy’s special hair.

This animal talk shit... humans are animals. The Beliefs and the Philosophies My Dude... simply geriatric.

Paul with his hand in the Cube: “just like Minecraft”

“We seldom administer this to men-children.” Paul-is-trans example 2.

Fist My Box Or Die, Man-Child.

Ok we gonna replace the word fear with the word cum just to get me through this:

“I must not cum. Cumming is the mind-killer. Cumming is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my cum. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the cum has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

“No woman child ever withstood that much [pain].” A-CisHetMan-Wrote-This.jpg Paul’s special boy bells be a jinglin’!!!

My concentrated rage for this book is what powers the box. Also we get into the first titillating bits of ableism text: If you’re human, you can withstand pain and even override it. Get fucked!

“He senses Truth! Could he be the one? Could he truly be the one?” Jingle jingle jingle

Mommy is allowed back to baby boy’s side now that he has passed the Hate and Pain test. As you know women must always be tested for Hate and Pain.

“Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a man’s mind.” Those kids on their damn phones! Ok Boomer.

“You did that on remarkably few clues.” Jingle jingle

“Separating human stock from animal stock—for breeding purposes.” Eugenics! In! Space!

“We look down so many avenues of the past... but only feminine avenues.” “It is said a man will come one day and find in the gift of the drug his inward eye. He will look where we cannot—into both feminine and masculine pasts.” Paul-is-trans example-3 but also, Herbert what the absolute fuck are you talking about.