#people I mention lel

[homiro]

It look like to what lol this ai is on as many drugs as I wish I was. What kind of Asian are we talking here, champ. Because if it's middle east then okay yeah maybe you're onto something. Other tries with other pictures gave me Spanish (closer) and another gave me British (not so close) but it kept giving me Asian with different pictures and I'm like fam specify please. Asia is pretty damn big.

This looks like a mugshot and I think that's kinda funny. Happy Halloween.

Mini rant under the cut.

I'm ugly I know sorry for the jumpscare. My hair is falling out I also know that. Thanks, I don't have money to fix that. I don't say this to fish for anything. And when even on Facebook someone makes an account to call you ugly you know you're right. I think the only times anyone said I wasn't ugly were when they thought I was a trans girl or a cis guy who just so happened to be androgynous. The moment people realise I'm afab they go all out in pointing out how ugly I am. And I wish I was making this shit up. And it's amazing how transphobes will go all you lovely beautiful girl uwu when they realise I'm transmasc afab intersex to try to make me a butch woman or something or binarists will have a full body reaction to me when they realise I'm intersex so like I try to put my face out there to try to come to terms that this is what I look like and can't do anything about but I genuinely look at myself and just see ugly fucking thing that confuses people

[klimtskuss]

how many siblings do you have? did you always have to share a room?

Just one and yeah until she moved out we've always shared a room. We've also shared a room with my mom until I was like 8.

[mai-mai-lim]

"Excuse me, Mr... Min? Henry Seung-jae Min?" "Stickmin." "... right. Mr Stickmin, are you aware of the Toppat Orbital Station and its existence?" "What about it?" "It seems that the clan itself has gone quiet for more than 2 weeks. There are no raids or any activity coming from them. Suspicious if you ask me." "..." "Do you happen to have cause this... situation?"

hmmm i itched to draw henry with sunglasses for a while now and doodled him chilling on the beach or smth. halfway i realized: wait a minute, isnt this just free man henry?

also enjoy this little dialogue, just wanna bring back my henry's name headcanon heh, have fun thinking who's the other person talking

Without sunglasses and some tidbit about Henry's real name below:

he looks like he's annoyed lmao

also Henry doesnt actually dislike his real name, just that well, criminal life and all he rather not hear it. Only times he doesnt mind are in timelines where he's actively in the gov, but he still prefers only close friends and lover(s) call him seung-jae

ps: in toppat timelines he completely buried the name down to the earth's core >:)

[dannystheone]

more lee deadpool!!!!! i love how u write him and wolverine sm<3

aww thank you so much! It took me a second to think about what I wanted to write lol but here it is!

this is just a little somethin somethin nothing special lel

and sorry this took so long to come out I haven't been feeling motivated to write and I've been taking dress to impress on roblox very seriously LMAO

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FROM THE MOVIE/ Cursing, shenanigans, fourth wall breaks, nastiness, mentions of alcohol, mentions of BDSM

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE!!

A Who Dun' It Mystery! (Lee Deadpool/Ler Wolverine)

Logan wakes up to find all his beer gone from the refrigerator without knowing who took it! Can Logan withstand all of Wade's antics to get a straight answer?

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"RAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

Birds flew out of their nesting places and whole houses shook on their foundations from the roar uttered on this peaceful morning. Squirrels, bugs, birds, pretty much the whole cast of Bambi ran for the hills to escape the terrifying beast.

Aside from one simple sleeping man and his adorable companion. That simple sleeping man was none other than Wade Wilson, otherwise known as the Merc with the Mouth, Marvel Jesus, People's Sexiest Man Alive in 2010- although in my opinion he was snubbed for 2008- and his adorable companion was Dogpool, of course.

Now, sleeping soundly, dreaming of Vanessa, Thor, and a certain web-slinger- Deadpool snored contently while the angry footsteps of the terrifying creature stalked to his bedroom. The angry creature better watch where he steps because Wade turned his room into a snow globe last night! And no, not the kind from the gift shop, although I'm sure if you ask politely, the gift shop worker would be more than happy to help you make this kind of snowglobe with a crisp 20 dollar bill-

The door was thrown open with a slam; the terrifying creature was revealed to be The Wolverine! Now is this story the one where the boy gets the monster at the end? Maybe an intermission of some kind-

"Shut the fuck up." Logan stalked toward Wade on his bed, careful not to step in a certain spot of something on the ground, and grabbed the papers Wade was reading aloud. Logan flipped the papers around to see the cover page, 'A Who 'Dun It Mystery!' Written by dannystheone''. Logan growled and threw the papers to the side of the room. Wade put his hands up innocently and looked at Logan.

"Someone's delightful this morning. Did you finally catch the bad kitty you chase in your dreams boy, huh? Or did you find my stash of catnip? Do you have more dog energy or cat energy? Let's ask the audience." Wade turned towards the camera, but Logan grabbed Wade's jaw and forced him to look him in the eye.

"Who the fuck, in this godforsaken household, drank the last of my beer?" Logan asked with a deathly calm. Wade lifted an eyebrow at the suggestive hold Logan had him in and spoke with his cheeks squished in his grip.

"If I answer the question, that'll take up one of your three wishes granted by the great and powerful Genie-Pool! And no, we're not using Robin Williams's rights for this one, but we can use Disney's. Would you like to use the wish to answer that question? Remember, one of my rules is I can't make anyone fall in love with you, even me, pretty boy~" Deadpool blew him a smooch as Wolverine snarled and pointed a finger in his face.

"A real. Fucking. Answer. You fucking moron. Who the hell drank my shit? Or I'll get the answer out of you." Logan threatened. Wade giggled like a girl, fanning his cheeks at the suggestive implications. Well, what Wade interpreted as suggestive anyway.

"Oh, you naughty little honey badger! Now I'm starting to think of what you'll do if I don't tell you~ Do we have a Tek Knight-type setup somewhere in the house? I should really invest in something like that-" Wolverine's temper got the better of him as he unsheathed his claws and thrust them forward. Deadpool jumped as he sacrificed a unicorn plushy to take the brunt of Wolverine's claws. The unicorn's fluff puffed out everywhere as Logan's claws stabbed the plushy.

"Nah ah ah! No claws in the house mister! We can't make all the furniture in the house red to cover up the bloodstains that come from claw-related incidents- although that would certainly be on brand. Could you imagine a couch designed by the guys who made the Deadpool X-Box controller? I might need to patent this million-dollar idea." Wolverine stared at him incredulously as he sheathed his claws. Deadpool looked to the broken unicorn plushy with a sigh and tossed it to the side.

"Jesus Christ, you're a yammering idiot. Your ADHD has ADHD, for God's sake. Will ya just tell me who drank my fucking beer already? I'll only hurt them a little bit..." Wolverine was clearly exasperated, but Deadpool had energy for days when it came to messing with his Wolvie-bear.

"Mmmm, I dunnooo... what do I get if I help you? A gratuitous turn-down service, perhaps? Almost as gratuitous as that lovely callback~ I hope you all at home reading this enjoyed that-" Deadpool said lovingly.

"Alright, that's it," Logan said aloud. Wade was cut off as Logan threw his legs over Wade and straddled him damn near on his ribcage with his arms pinned to his sides, effectively trapping him.

"Woah woah woah big boy! Establish the safe word first before you engage! We went through the BDSM guidelines together! You disregarding everything the BDSM subreddit taught us makes you no better than P-Diddy!" Deadpool looks to the camera. "Too soon, you think? I think it's in good taste."

Wolverine rolled his eyes as he begrudgingly started wriggling his fingers in Deadpool's ribs. Deadpool was currently wearing a white t-shirt with cartoon cats all over it and classic white boxers with red hearts all over them. His usual attire that gave him a little protection from Wolvie's tickle attacks was at the dry cleaners after the last job he had.

Logan realized very early in his 'relationship' with Wade that sometimes Wade needed to be tickled to be cooperative. He had no idea why, he had never met someone like Wade before so he assumed the weirdness and the absurdity of it came with the territory.

Additionally, with the no blood rule in the house and an elderly woman as their other roommate, this was the closest thing to 'violence' that Wolverine could use to take his aggression out on Deadpool. Wolverine had to admit, it felt good sometimes to take it all out on him like this. Logan's fingers scribbled and scratched in Wade's ribs, Wade immediately breaking out into peals of laughter.

"L-Lohohogahahan!! Wahahait wahahait wait!" Deadpool was caught by surprise, and thank GOD he was wearing his mask because he was blushing redder than the material his mask was made of. It always caught Deadpool by surprise when Wolverine randomly tickled him like this, only because it was so out of left field for his character. Almost as if this isn't a regular thing that would occur in the MCU and only occurs in the minds of degenerates on the internet.

"I WIHIHISH thahat wehehere the cahahase!! If ihihihit wehehere, I wohohouldn't behehe gehehetting tihihihickled rihihight nohohow!!" Deadpool yelled at no one in particular. Wolverine sneered as his fingers dotted Deadpool's ribs with an accuracy only experience could give. He wasn't feeling playful this time around, he just wanted an answer to where his beer had gone and he feared this was the only way he could get it.

"You wouldn't be getting ti-... be getting this treatment if you would just tell me who drank my damn beer. You always make it hard on yourself." Logan sighed and continued to tickle the merc. Deadpool swished from side to side on his bed as well as he could with a whole hunk of Hugh Jackman and adamantium skeleton on him.

"Awhahahaha!~ Yohohou stihihihill cahahan't sahahay thehe wohohord?! Yohohou're sohohoho cuhuhuhute!~" Wade teased, causing Logan to bristle and dig his fingers in further as retaliation. Even when Wade was in the throes of being tickled, he still managed to fluster his Ler. It was a superpower at that point.

"I got a different word I can say. Who the hell drank my goddamn beer?" Wolverine snarled, Deadpool still twitching and shuffling from side to side as the tickles came from either side of him.

"Nohohohot a wohohord! Thahahat's ahaha sehehentence! Haharvard DOESN'T wahahant yohohour lohohocation!" Deadpool laughed more genuinely now from his own joke than the tickles he was receiving. Logan growled from not having his question answered again and forced his fingers into the small spaces of Wade's armpits and vibrated his fingers into them. Wade shrieked and started belly laughing now.

"How about you tell me the location of my beer, huh? Think you can do that, Bub? Did Al drink it? Did you? Answer me!" Wolverine shouted over Deadpool's loud laughing. Deadpool tried squeezing the spaces that held Wolverine's fingers, but it just made the fingers tighter and closer to the skin, so either way it sucked.

"I dohohon't drihihink beheheer! I ohohonly drihihink thehehe fihihinest Aviahation Gihin!-" Wolverine's hands were lifted from Deadpool as Deadpool turned to the camera with a bottle of Aviation Gin appearing in his hands. -"Which you can now purchase from any local liquor store near you, including the Limited Deadpool Edition. Thank you for choosing Aviation Gin. Sincerely, Ryan Reynolds." Wade put the bottle back from its mysterious spot where it was before and assumed the exact same position he was in before with Wolverine's hands back in his armpit spaces.

"Then who the hell drank it? This can aaaall be over as soon as you tell me who did it!" Wolverine asked again. You would think he was beginning to lose his patience, but Logan was actually calming down from his previous place of anger now that he had an outlet to take it out. Wade was the unfortunate (or fortunate, whatever floats your boat) recipient of that, however.

"I cahahahan't! I wahahahas swohohorn tohoho sehehecrecy! I swehehehear!!" Deadpool sounded genuine this time, but Wolverine wasn't having it. Logan took it a step further and took his fingers to slide them up Wade's signature mask and started fluffing his fingers over his neck and the bottoms of his ears. He knew this was a secret spot that wasn't touched very often and found it by mistake, so it should be doubly effective here.

"Yeah? Well, I've done plenty of interrogating in my day, breaking down my victims and having them submit. S'aaall a matter of time now..." Logan attempted to sound intimidating but to Wade, this was just silly.

"PFFT! Hahahahaha! Ohohokahahay, whahahatever yohohou sahahay, Fihifty Shahades Of Grehey! Ohoho I'll suhuhubmihit ahahalright! Ihihif thahahat's whahahat yohohou wahahant!~" Deadpool couldn't help but laugh at his own hilarity, which just pissed Wolverine off.

Logan took his fingers from Wade's neck and took them down to his collarbones, to which Wade exploded. Wade was weird in the sense that his ticklish spots were never consistent. One spot would barely get him to laugh in one tickle session, and the next session that same spot would break him. Only ever adding to just how bizarre he was.

"You'll submit it you don't want to die first. Looks like you already got one foot in the grave from how hard you're laughing. Who swore you to secrecy huh?" Logan started gently pinching Wade's collarbones, which drove Wade up the wall. His legs started kicking and his head started whipping back and forth (with Willow Smith just out of frame).

"NOHOHO nohoho no! Okahahay okahahay stahahahap!! Ihihihit wahahas DohohohogPool! Wehehe rahahahan ohohohout of wahahater sohohoho I gahahahave hihihihihim the beheheheer!!" Deadpool spilled his secret, causing Wolverine to stop.

"You did what? You gave my beer to the sock puppet?" Wolverine got off of Deadpool, standing up and off to the side to let the merc breathe. Wade held a hand up to his chest while he caught his breath and turned to Logan.

"FIRST OF ALL- the gorgeous munchkin's name is DogPool, or- alternatively, the Messiah, if you'd like."

"Never calling him that-" Logan interjected.

"-Second of all, I only did it to be the best caregiver I could possibly be, without going to the store or getting any sort of grocery delivery service. Have you seen what a DoorDasher will do to your food if you don't tip? It's enough to make a 4-Channer fall to his knees, and that's saying something." Deadpool hauled himself up into a sitting position at the edge of his bed while Wolverine stood with his hands on his hips.

"You're ridiculous, you know that? Why couldn't you give it water from out of the tap?" Wolverine asked, sounding genuine. Deadpool gave him an incredulous look even through the mask.

"What kind of Fantasy/Disney/Fairytale-Land do you live in where we're rich enough to have drinkable tap water or rich enough to own a Brita? You think any of the money from the movie actually made it into our pockets? Ryan, Hugh, and Shawn pooled all the money the movie made together to fundraise Ryan to get back on his feet after the absolute disaster that was 'IF'. Regular tap water isn't good enough for my ray of sunshine, so I chose the next best option." Deadpool picked up DogPool sleeping right next to his bed and offered him to Wolverine to hold.

"Don't you want the best for the little chicken noodle?" Deadpool asked sweetly. Wolverine quirked an eyebrow at the dog with the tongue sticking out of his mouth. Dammit, it was so ugly and pathetic looking it was somewhat... cute. He didn't know how the dog managed to do it, but whatever his tactics were, they were working. Wolverine rolled his eyes and gave the dog's head a pat. Deadpool squealed at the display.

"Yaaay! My kitty and my puppy making up. Oh, we're all happy, aren't we? And yes Wolvie, your next six-pack is on me when I do eventually go to the store. Those 1000 bottles of baby oil aren't going to buy themselves. Two jokes in one fic folks. How we feeling about that? Go ahead and tell Danny in the comments or reblogs below." Deadpool said, putting DogPool back on his oversized bed.

"You're going to the store immediately if you know what's good for you." Wolverine threatened. Deadpool stood up from his bed and looked at Wolverine sympathetically.

"Oh, honey bear... when have I ever known what's good for me?" Deadpool asked in a loving tone.

Wolverine answered with a deadpan expression and merely unsheathed his claws quickly with a loud SNIKT.

Jumping with a loud yelp, Deadpool hurriedly ran out of his bedroom, hopping over the puddle of mysterious liquid on the floor before leaving the house for the grocery store.

[torturedfujoshidepartment]

Okayyyy but like... You gotta give some love to my nasty, dirty, downright stinky boy Pete 🫴🫴❤️‍🩹

General dating hc for pete

(epilogue !)

Cw: mention of blood/gore, cutting, pete being a fucking weirdo lel

(´･Д･)」

Rating: suggestive

🩸you probably both shared a loved for horror

🩸maybe a little too much on his end…

🩸he’s kind of a hypocrite when it comes to saying shit and doing the complete opposite

🩸” all these women are a bunch of low life whores”

🤍”what?”

🩸”no, not you doll”

🩸he doesn’t take relationships seriously so you must be really special if he’s not going around and sticking his dick in people

🩸please indulge in this man’s weird fetishes, he’ll love you even more

🩸he’ll call you doll regardless of gender

🩸he will tease you over everything

🩸(please fake cry to make him feel bad)

🩸will make you watch those mondo shock films

🩸pausing at a particularly gruesome scene and pointing out all the details

🤍”can we watch something else, like My blood valentine…”

🩸”nah”

🩸this man loves making out with you

🩸making you sit in his lap as he grabs at your thighs

🩸 "God damn... you're somethin' else, you know that?"

🩸as mentioned in other posts he’ll probably beg you to let him cut you

🩸if you do let him please set boundaries, his ass would cut a hole in you and fuck it

🩸pete behind closed doors is surprisingly clingy, especially if you work long hours and don’t get to see each other often

🩸if you point it out he’ll just huff and roll his eyes at you

🤍” someone’s clingy today…”

🩸”shut it…”

🩸WEAR!! HIS!! CLOTHES!!!

🩸he loves it when he catches you wearing his hoodies

🩸he’s gets a lil weird about it tho…

🩸”you smell like me…”

🤍”shit, do I need to shower-“

🩸”NO”

🩸he’s gross

🩸 but he’s your gross boy sooo ^_^

[thegamingcatmom]

Do you think Mother Miranda likes swimming?

Additionally, what kinda swimwear would she have?

I love that one. 🤭

Right so, I did mention in one post that she likes bird baths. But swimming? I actually don't think so. Not particularly. It's just so...wet, lol. A different kind of wet than the nice, warm baths she takes then and now.

The only occasion where I could see her taking a quick dive is when her wings require some extra attention. But, even then, it's more of a *flaps her wings aggressively* to make sure the water reaches every nook and cranny. It can hardly be called "swimming".

Much like this. :3

(Crows suck at swimming btw. I looked it up, lol.)

As for her swimwear-

The first thing that came to mind was black and short, lel.

The black fits, but I'm not sure how much skin she'd be willing to show. Probs a lot more with her s/o, but in an open space for everyone to see? I think she's someone who views those things as sacred, also because of the time period she comes from.

Which-

(Source: https://www.visualmood.com/blogs/blog/the-history-of-women-s-bathing-suits-a-journey-through-time?srsltid=AfmBOoo9dOWwAS6SVGe4TMAyEoqkgor2scRiaMANvQRObG4n15MRu-bt)

Ofc I looked that one up too, and it´s really quite interesting.

(I love history.)

Miranda was born sometime in the late 19th century (around 1870 to 1899, probs closer to 1900 though), which means she likely would´ve gone for something that covers most of the body. Just like the Mad Priestess we know and thirst for today.

(She´s so damn fine.)

The only things exposed are her hands and face sadly. Granted, that´s quite the norm for a priestess outfit and doesn´t necessarily tell us anything about her personal preferences, but I still think her swimwear would be of similar design (meaning: full body).

Why? Well, she chose to parade as The Priestess. It wasn´t something that was given to her or decided by the people. She did it because it allowed her to take full control over the village and its inhabitants, ensuring that nobody would question her or her methods.

And why would nobody question her or her methods? Because, back when the village was just a village, the belief in divine beings was strong. There was no technology or modern medicine to rely on, so people resorted to praying in times of hardship (sickness, poverty, crop failure etc). It gave them hope and stability, and Miranda took full advantage of that.

In fact, I wouldn´t put it past Miri to be the one responsible for sudden outbreaks of sickness or the cattle perishing of some mysterious illness. She´d then swoop in as The Priestess, telling them a sacrifice was due (aka: a new specimen to work on), and, SURPRISE-

Mysteriously cured.

BUT, I digress-

It all comes down to her time period, basically. I´d like to think Miranda is a woman who values and clings to the old ways (except when it comes to medicine) and, back then, it was all about modesty. Something we see reflected in pretty much every village woman - they´re covered head to toe.

...And she´s also possessive af, let´s not forget that. I doubt she´d much like if her s/o ran around half-naked. Some things are meant for her eyes only, and vice versa. 🤭

(Miri got high standards that she expects her s/o to follow. I don´t make the rules. 🤷🏻‍♀️)

With that said, I could see her going for something like this:

(Source: https://h5.lazada.com.my/products/women-swimwear-for-girls-one-piece-swimsuit-with-chest-pads-long-sleeve-bathing-surfing-swimming-suit-i2966475023.html)

...She´s mayhaps making a compromise with the legs here.

(And she will deny those puppy eyes having anything to do with that down to her very last breath.)

.

.

.

...Not me being unable to get Miri in a diving suit out of my head now though. 😭🫠

Thanks a lot for your ask! 💋

[tiredemzz]

Basically me rambling about my version of Ben in my AU- enjoy :)

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BENJAMIN ‘DOVER’ DROWNED HCS IN MY AU:

- Ben is basically a fan of anything, legit mention exe games and this boi will run towards you and say “YOU HEARD OF EXE GAMES?! So have I!”

- Legit hates his childhood, his dad (I mean come on, who wouldn’t?)

- Do not call him Benjamin, he hates that name bc it reminds him of his dad- who wasn’t a good man towards Ben

- Ben owns a drawing tablet that he hides from the creepypasta’s bc he doesn’t want to be teased about having a drawing tablet

- Drinks soda or juice, hates drinking water. Doesn’t mind drinking chocolate milk tho.

- He vibes to basically FNF music, metal/rock music and video game music. Think of Mic of Time, he loves that FNF mod sm. Also Terrible Fate- that’s also an FNF mod that he likes!

- He legit can’t cook or bake anything, he doesn’t trust himself in the kitchen.

- He’s not a perv, he’s sometimes a gentleman bc slender teached him on how to act like one.

-He’s also 16-17, so basically a teen. Not a 12 yr old.

-Big fan of creepypasta land, laughs at the Ben character that he sees but when he sees the MLP video.. he’s like ‘this Ben guy is a brony? Respect.’ Any RPG maker game would catch this boy’s eye, for example Ao Oni.

-A mama’s boy, 100%

-Bi basically, pronouns are he/them/him. Also he’s 5”6-5”7 basically.

- A childhood friend of Anon’s, also Jeffery! (Please do not ship Ben and Jeff bc Jeff is aroace in my AU.)

- Definitely used to Anon’s rambling and loves it sm.

- Wears fucking baggy clothes, no questions asked.

- Basically acts like a younger brother towards Jeff and Sal :)

- A Sally Face Fan, he basically can relate to Sally Face. Also he relates to Finn from adventure time, he relates to anyone with his hair color pretty much.

-Basically owns graphic tees, he loves graphic tees.

-Favorite weather for him as to be winter and fall, he hates summer sm.

-His parents got sadly divorced and he personally would rather head to his mother’s house, then stay with his horrible father.

-He’s also a sweetheart sometimes <3

-He changed his last name to Dover bc he hates the last name named Lawmen but it slowly came his middle name lel

- He wears precings, no questions asked.

- His voice sounds like a glitch almost, a bit deep but not to deep. It’s a little bit high pitched.

- He still uses cleverbot to mess with the players that uses it to try and summon him.

- He doesn’t go though other people’s electric devices but he would do it to mess with his victims, not the creepypasta’s that are in the mansion.

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And that’s all u need to know about my version of Ben in my AU <3

[randomnameless]

I recently saw some nice Cyril discussion/posts on the dash and I remember why, despite liking his Ashe support, it still rubbed me in a wrong way -

Sure it's a nice support where he ultimately finds a friend, but...

Ashe of all people?

Ashe's who's all "I want to be a model knight like Lord Lonato", the very same Lonato who tried to kill the person Cyril loves the most and came to see as a surrogate mother?

In the same vein, Cyril is the ward/son of the woman who gave the order to kill Lonato, and killed Christophe, Lonato's son and Ashe's beloved brother.

Considering Ashe might not be the kind of person who would blame Cyril for what Rhea did (even if CF!Ashe... well), would Cyril accept to be helped and ultimately become friends with him without having to tackle this issue?

Cyril "her enemies are my enemies" would be mature enough to engage in a conversation and friendship with the son of someone who wanted to kill Rhea?

Also, thinking about Ashe... Lonato became chummy with the Western Church after Christophe's death, and we know the Western Church hates the Central Church because they're not xenophobic enough.

So, Ashe's dad joins a xenophobic group, but the guy still strikes conversation with an Almyran (and a Duscurian)? Or he admires Lonato but dismisses his association with the xeno group as, idk, "ramblings" or not being something serious and doesn't follow/listens to him when he goes on Western Church rants about how Almyrans and Duscurians shouldn't be in Fodlan (or at least in Garreg Mach?) but then what is he admiring in the man?

Like, can we imagine Ashe writing a letter to his dad and gushing about Dedue and mentionning how he made an Almyran friend... or Ashe would know better than to write those things to Lonato since Lonato turned xenophobic after associating with the Western Church?

Likewise, if Cyril told Rhea he became friends with Ashe, would she be worried about it, because as Lonato's kid, he might want to target her through Cyril to get revenge for his brother and father?

I don't remember the "nickel meme" that well rn because it's late lol, but it's still weird how 2 of Cyril's support completely elude what I'd call "character essential writing" to give instead a generic support - Hilda learns how to not be racist anymore without adressing her House's issue with "captured Almyran children who are fed once in a blue moon but still have to work themselves to the bone to be able to eat", and Cyril learns what friendship is, without adressing the small issue of "the man you admire tried to kill the person I care about the most and is part of a group who hates people like me because I'm a foreigner".

Masterful character writing everyone.

i swear it's not like I have this scene in some AU plotbunny where cyril and ashe disagree about lonato in the lonato mission, and cyril believes that he has to be "there" for ashe because of this friendship thing and he wants to help/apologise after calling Lonato trash since he's somehow like "Ashe's Lady Rhea" so he joins the group during the Lonato mission

but like, in this AU Rhea herself went to confront Lonato because this nonsense has been going on for too long and it must stop before too many people die, of course Cyril is caught by Lonato's forces who try to pull the "a son for a son" nonsense (+ calling cyril with a racist slur), Rhea having none of his bullshit (tfw people pulled the same shit using Willy back in the days!) and ultimately crushing him to rescue Cyril because you.never.ever.threaten.her.family. (especially not her children! She couldn't save Lycaon so this time she'll protect (lel) everyone). More Rhea BaD shenanigans, Cyril and Ashe's friendship deteriorates (Ashe'd feel xtra guilty since he told Lonato in his latest letter that the CoS doesn't preach the same things as the Western Church does since his Almyran friend is close to the Archbishop herself!) even more, Dimi's ideal that peaceful/bloodless resolution of conflicts is in shambles but maybe a convo with Rhea that this ideal is something that should always be sought, and yet rulers should use force/authority when needed and it's up to him to learn when force is necessary.

[straycalamities]

Still confused on how this AU will work on a fandom wide scale; can you elaborate on that? You mentioned not everyone has to be familiar with MH to join in but IDK how we could participate if we don't. You see my confusion lel

that's because it's not a Marble Hornets AU, it's a slenderverse AU and the thing with slenderverse stuff...be it series, args, or whatever, is they always have their kinda own version of the lore

think about how all the onceler askblogs have their own take or spin on the original onceler. it's like that but with slender-lore in general and how it works. you don't always need to have seen The Lorax (2012) or read the book to enjoy the askblogs and this will be the same gist. it's not as involved as if i, say, made a Magnus Archives AU or something. with that you definitely would need to research TMA to be able to join in or follow along in an engaging way

so this au will be pretty n00b-friendly. me and the bestie came up with our own version of the lore we'd like to use and that's what will be established in a way that everyone will get the gist of what's going on and can play inside of it and be on the same page!

you can like look up on whatever websites that list out all the vague versions of the lore that are out there and you'd be on equal footing with everyone else tbqh is the goal

it's like how Truffula Flu is pretty easy to grasp because it's Zombie Apocalypse Genre. and all the specifics about it are homebrewed so you can get it from the people who started it or came up with things along the way. same idear just different horror genre. though this one is more niche, it's just as easy to pick up the rhythm and tone and it'll have the same amount of freedom

[starflungwaddledee]

Hey star! Me again! How does your starstruck shipganza work? Do we just submit an OC to ship with Starstruck? I'm very much a dumb dumb so I don't know lel

hello boa!! great to hear from you!!

and omg nonono you're not being dumb or anything, i was pretty vague about this previously and only kinda mentioned it off-hand in tags. the idea behind the shipaganza is to help me explore some different dynamics (more or less romantic) with starstruck to see how i feel about shipping her as a whole, and so i was admittedly pretty nervous and wiffle-waffley about it overall.

but if it helps, i am allowing both canon suggestions and OC suggestions for the starstruck dee shipaganza! now that it's a full 'event' i should be more transparent, so here's a few rules!

🎀 any suggested characters must be adults in a suitable age bracket. this goes for OCs and canon characters. consider starstruck dee to be in the 25-35 age range; i think she could smooch into an older bracket, but i would not go younger than this. 🎀 when suggesting OCs, only the creator/owner of the oc can suggest that oc, unless you get clear permission from the creator. if an artist suggests a sona in particular, then for the same reasons as above, i explicitly need the artist to be an adult. 🎀 no nsfw at all. flirty characters are great. bullies are fun (something tonally similar to the marx prompt, for instance). but i have a hard enough time even making the orbs smooch non-platonically; anything else is clearly going to be out of my ballpark. 🎀 very very few of these prompts are going to be considered canon to starstruck's storyline, and i'll specify any that are (such as bandee's). this is even less likely with OCs, though i might be open to that in the future after the event. this event is just for fun and silliness! 🎀 when suggesting OCs, especially if i don't know you or your oc well, please please give me some info about your oc and why you think they'd work. like, would your oc make a move that starstruck fails to notice? are they accidentally dating? do they share an interest? is your oc a hopeless pining romantic, are they a charmer, are they a bully, so on and so fourth! a link to a reference is also good! try to remember starstruck's characterisation when suggesting as well; remember that it's very important that she doesn't get along great with most waddle dees. otherwise i might have a hard time responding to you! 🎀 also... please don't suggest your ocs just because you want me to draw them. i'll likely take more general/platonic oc interaction prompts in the future. please only suggest an oc for this event if you genuinely think you have a fun potential ship dynamic to explore. i am much more likely to draw canon character prompts and ocs from folks who have interacted with me regularly (such as yourself, boa). i'm fairly aware of my regular interactors and of course my mutuals, so i'll be able to tell if people are just popping up out of the woodwork trying to get free art out of me.

i hope this helps a little and i appreciate your interest!

this sounds like a lot of rules, but it's mostly just things to keep in mind. i'm more flexible with canon character recommendations because there's a bit more to navigate and get right when it comes to OCs, but i'm none the less willing to ty it out! hopefully it's just something fun and silly i can share with folks to celebrate the month!

[homiro]

Want something spookier than this? Lol. Boo. Jumpscare with my mood and fug mug.

I'm in dire need of funds but not quite ready yet to venture into offering tarot readings. I don't feel right in charging even a cent when I'm still so wary of it. Still journeying. I may start in a while after doing some tests and I surely will offer it for free first to see how I feel and how to best go about it without being able to use physical contact.

But if you have some change to spare, well, I'd be appreciative of it. My legal birthday is soon (this week) and I need money for meds and therapy which I skipped last time because I had no money welp but I want to get better and while the appointment is free, going to the city is not. So yeah well the options to support me are in my carrd. And I'll remember anyone who helped in case I go forth with the tarot readings and offer a free one (not exactly free but still) in case you're interested. Just let me know your Tumblr username since I've locked a lot of things to protect my peace for me to reach out.

I have an ed and tapering hasn't been working because I have too much stress going on. And I can't find a job aside from sporadic freelance gigs that pay very little. Plus I have no talents to show for aside from this last resource to the spiritual things I have been running from my whole life but since realising that tapping into that helps a bit in understanding myself, 've been trying to find my way into it and it's been hard but helpful. I just need time to adjust and learn more.

What doesn't help is that I can't find a job and the ed has been getting worse because of family bothering me about it. And this is something I'm revealing here for the first time, one of the reasons I developed this ed among several, none of which include not wanting to be fat, is that I have gone through periods where I couldn't eat properly because we had no money. We had to ration food and everyone was angry and there were constant fights and screaming. I eventually started eating less and less until it spiralled into a full blown ed because I was saving on the money and becoming even less attractive in the process which meant safety.

I don't want this to be a sob story or whatever. I isolate as a way to cope with how poorly I've been doing mentally, but I need help. And it sucks to have to ask for it but I have no choice. I think I want compassion more than anything, because I feel like I'm free falling with no safety net. And I'm just opening up about the realities of what can cause eds, since people seem to think it's always fatphobia. I was never fat, I used to be stocky and loved it because I love martial arts and it was good for that, now I'm just a mess. I'm not underweight but for my body type, I definitely look like I am. Especially because I'm intersex, so my body already looked weird before and now it looks weird in a different way.

And well, thanks in advance in case you can and decide to help this ghoulish creature.

[woman-respecter]

heystephen absolutely is antisemetic somebody added to their post talking abt taylors concert being canceled due to terrorist threats by bringing up the double standards that people only care when this shit affects goyim but didnt utter a peep about the nova festival and then proceeded to point out that it was actually very likely israeli intelligence operators that notified taylors team abt the threats and heystephens response was "honest to god shut the fuck up" so.. also they just mentioned you on their post calling you pointing out their antisemetism as "bizarre" and "wild" cuz you know a hit dog's gotta holler

took me like 5 seconds to find the red triangle on their blog too lel. and i saw them criticizing me lmao, just gonna be the bigger person about it (other than answering this ask haha)

tho i must say, i bet if they were accused of something they actually took seriously, like racism or transphobia or whatever, they would prob be less flippant about it

[mai-mai-lim]

(You look, different. You ARE different. Are you... me in a distant universe?) "I guess. Could ask the same about you. All I see is that we just happen to use a specific name."

So i lied. i thought im skipping this year's THSC anniversary but i happen to have another idea (not the idea i mentioned in my rambles im keeping that for next time) and i thought to whip it up quick with the canon guy and my super oc-fied henry.

Never would I thought to liking a game series about sticks for almost 4 years, kind of, i wasnt too active in the fandom until early 2023 cause i mainly focus on crossovers interactions for myself lel

but coming full on back and staying in the fandom is a decision that i wont regret, cause this fandom, especially here, is how i met my closest friends in recent times, i made a fandom OC that people like, and its also where im comfortable to show my headcanons

Thank you to the community for all the works ya'll made, happy 4th anniversary! <3

[thehistoriangirl]

Where the Woods Brought Us Together [2]

I’m sorry guys  🚩 something happened and I found more plot than I thought it’d be, so I cut this final part in two because I reached 12K and I was only halfway done  🤡 🤡 I think the other half will be posted in one or two weeks :3 Anyway, I hope you like it ^^

Viktor x Fem!Reader-----/Magical Forest AU/------8.4K----SFW (but check tags just in case)

First Part here!

Part Three (Final Part)

Synopsis: There was a time when the forest and the village lived in balance. The humans went to the woods to harvest its fruits and cut down the dead trees from where luxury furniture was carved, and in exchange, the people would venerate and protect the wood’s heart, giving offerings and humming chants, telling them stories. Those times are long gone. Only remaining the fear of the immortal and powerful woods that rule over the village, only foolish woodcutters and valiant explorers dare to approach the forest. Except for the solitary family that lived in the little cottage at the edge of the woods. A lineage deeply connected to the trees and the creatures who hide inside them. The village knows—but anyone is sure about how deep the bond runs. Nevertheless, you're willing to try for the sake of saving the villagers from their demise. Perhaps, with some luck, you can convince the forest and its guardian of giving their mercy, praying the cost won’t be too high.

Tags: Spooky Forest (??| Angst| Mentions of Death and Illness| Friends to Lovers| Eventual Smut (next part lel)| Viktor as Machine Herald but make it cottagecore (TM)|  Eventual Happy Ending| Mentions about the arrival of a plague| Domestic Fluff|

The woods were always silent for those that didn’t know what to look for in those sounds. But in reality, the forest was always moving, shifting, and calling.

It was calling you, and you felt it—in each branch moved by the wind as if it were whispering your name; in the songs of the crickets heard across the fields, only interrupted by the howl of the owls posing in the trees near your cottage.

Even in the sudden, startling cracks of branches that gave away the presence of someone—something—lurking nearby.

You were having dinner with your back toward the entrance door, windows slightly open to let the summer air filter inside, the smoke of incense and laurel put in the window sill keeping mosquitos from entering.

You heard footsteps running down your stairs, which made you jump, dragging the chair away from the table, spoon still grasped in your hand.

The little kid you were treating from chickenpox, Mat, was pale and looked as if he wanted to cry. His black hair pocked everywhere in the wrong direction as he run to smash his little body against your chest.

“What happened, little one?” you shushed him, passing a hand through his hair.

“There’s something outside,” he whispered, afraid his words would be heard by the intruder.

Your hand froze while your head turned toward the front door. Only darkness could be seen, amorph, elongated shadows from bushes and trees. You patted his head one last time. “Go upstairs, I’ll go check.”

Mat shook his head, brushing his locks against your bare arms. “No! What if it’s something dangerous?”

You smiled. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Besides,” you commented just for him to let you go. “I have to go check now before your mother arrives, yes?”

The sole thought of his mom getting attacked by the roaming creature circling the cottage was enough for him to let go of you.

“Go upstairs, and do not get out, even if you hear someone calling your name, alright? Your mom will enter the room right after she arrives. Do you understand?”

The kid become paler, and you knew it was an exaggeration, but you didn’t want him to peek outside—especially not since the town’s children have been disappearing overnight and found wandering on the outskirts of town, or at the edge of the forest, between the crops, ever since months ago. Some townsfolk said it was because of the forest, but you had your doubts.

The whole town was separated from the woods with the harvesting crops, and the forest had ultimately no reason to kidnap children that would be found the next morning anyway—and even if the forest did have reasons to swoop out of the town, the people should have known that the woods have more effective methods than kidnapping.

Besides, if the woods were behind the mystery, its guardian must have told you so already—because he trusted you, didn’t he?

Mat almost flew upstairs, his light steps echoing in the old cabin as you breathe slowly, deeply, opening the front door and stepping outside.

It was a humid autumn night, with some clouds hiding the crescent moon which light couldn’t filter completely between the branches of the apple tree in the backyard, casting a large shadow that stopped you from identifying any sudden movement. As you turned the corner, your eyes scanned the area, searching for whatever thing frightened Mat.

Perhaps it was one of Viktor’s dogs.

They got used to coming for any kind of food waste you had for them any other day, one of them even growing as bold as smashing your door to enter your kitchen without your permission.

Well, you were wrong.

“You scared the child,” you said looking at the gigantic figure hunched next to your backdoor, third arm turned off so its light wouldn’t be noticeable from the interior.

His figure froze mid-crunch toward the floor for a couple of seconds before he recomposed, his tall figure looming with a new casting, very long shadow of himself that covered your own. “I didn’t know we have a child already.”

“Wouldn’t you like that?” you said, amused. Your brows got pinched together in curiosity, looking at the opaque mass he carried between his arms. “What are you doing?”

Viktor shrugged. “Me? Nothing.” You took a step further, and he quickly added: “—I just came to give you these.”

The smell of lavender hit your nose as Viktor extended you a bouquet, looking white under the faint light of the moon.

You blinked, taking them by mere reflex. “Oh? Did you do something I don’t know yet that would require an apology bouquet?”

He chuckled, the sound amplified by the thick mask he wore. “I scared our child, you said.”

“You did.” You weren’t going to get distracted enough to correct that sentence. “And you are breaking into my property right now.”

“Technically, your hut is on my property.” The forest had been growing ever since the flooding incident, almost swallowing your grandmother’s house with tall grass and random juvenile trees growing over your front yard if it weren’t for the tall gates surrounding the place. “I was only going to let the flowers here and leave. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t wake me, but I suppose you weren’t fast enough if Mat caught a glimpse of you,” you said, mockingly nagging him, an eyebrow raised. Viktor removed in his place, hands fidgeting at his staff's length. “It’s okay. He’s just a little spooked.”

“What is doing a kid awake at this hour anyway?” he replied, tone airy and mocking. “Copying your insomniac tendencies, isn’t it? Perhaps you’re the bad influence after all.”

You shrugged. “Good thing he almost leaves,” you commented, because you wanted to assure him about your assistance next full moon. “I’m sure with the lavender it’ll get better.” You nodded slightly. “Thank you, Viktor.”

Your eyes dropped, revealing the fatigue lingering in your being.

“You should go inside now. It’s getting late, and you should get some rest.”

“Hmm, and why is that? Do you have planned something that would require high stamina?” You arched both eyebrows, somehow disappointed you couldn’t see Viktor’s expression.

He looked at you—or at least you thought so—, the opening in his mask glowing as golden as his eyes while pointed at you because you could never be so sure.

“No,” he responded blatantly, taking you by the shoulders and gently guiding you under the little landing constructed in your backyard. Your eyes widened, and you heard your heart picking speed with each beat that rushed toward your ears. “But let me know if you have some ideas.”

He pushed you inside your cottage, opening the door just enough for you to pass through. “Now go to sleep, because if the child discovers us, it wouldn’t be my fault, would it?”

You hoped he couldn’t notice your flushed state with the bright light of the hearth at your back. “You were the one who came,” you replied, but he was right. You could’ve dismissed him already. “Goodnight, Viktor.” You shushed his name, inclined toward his body so the little kid upstairs wouldn’t hear it.

He had only trusted it to you so far.

Viktor stepped outside, and toward the limits of your backyard and the forest, you saw his dogs waiting patiently. “Goodnight.” Viktor signaled the lavender carefully cradled in your arms. “I hope they help you sleep.”

You smiled. “Me too. I’ll dream of you, in that case.”

Viktor had to reprime a laugh. “I hope you do,” he commented, closing the door before you could say something else.

He was gigantic, his armor bulky, and yet, the only noise of him walking away was the sudden breaks of branches he stepped on. But between a couple of blinks and the reflective window, you lost him as soon as he entered the wood’s limit.

The stairs creaked.

“I told you to stay in your room,” you simply stated. Mat’s head poked from the stairs’ corner.

“Who was that?” he asked, and you hoped he wasn’t near enough to hear during your whole exchange. Mat certainly wasn’t near enough to notice your disheveled state.

“My friend,” you said, because it was true. Viktor had become your friend. Strangely, sure, but he was… important to you now.

Mat blinked as if your answer wouldn't convince him. “Was it your forest’s boyfriend?” His eyes twinkled at looking at the lavender on the table. “Did he give you flowers? Why? It’s your birthday? Are you going to get married?”

Your sleepy mind couldn’t process half the things he said.

“What?”

He shrugged. “My mom and her friends say so. That you’re the forest’s wife.”

You breathed slowly, deeply. Good thing Viktor wasn’t here to mock you about it.

Don’t give him ideas, Mat. But of course, you didn't say that. "Let's go upstairs, or your mom is going to get angry you’re still awake.”

You passed next to him toward the stairs, leaving him alone in the kitchen. The loneliness of the place must have crept him out, because in less than three minutes he was running upstairs, where you were already expecting him, sitting at the edge of the bed.

Mat jumped inside the covers, quickly wrapping himself in the blankets until only his eyes and hair were visible.

You patted his head a couple of times, looking at the clock hanging on top of the bed. It was almost 10 PM, his mom would be here at any minute. Your steps were muffled by the worn-out carpet as you approached the window, ready to close the curtains.

“Don’t close it, Miss. I want the moon to accompany me while my mom arrives.”

You nodded, a half-smile hidden by the sharp shadows enveloping the room. "Alright. Goodnight, Mat.”

“Goodnight Miss,” he whispered back, words barely audible when sleep was perfectly wrapped around them.

Peeking outside the bare window, you saw two ghostly figures around your house, their bodies moving the grass as if they were little waves inside a nocturnal sea, tails wiggling happily as firelights flew toward the sky, afar from their movement.

The forest had thick foliage that couldn’t let you see the light inside that easily, but maybe—with a flick of your imagination—, you could see Viktor’s golden light flooding inside the dark branches, moving with each step he took.

You smiled a fond expression that was reflected in the crystal.

Perhaps being the forest’s wife wouldn’t be so bad.

Spring started with cold air, even in the deepest parts of the forest, some sprouts of flowers shyly peeking from the ground and amidst the bushes, vibrant yellows and reds and violets that were visible even at night. As you walked through the mossy ground, the clear sky showed you the way across shimmering stars between the canopy and traces of moonlight in the patches of dirt and broken branches.

Forests are strange places for humans, as they're guided by a vision more than any other sense. Trunks look the same hue of dark brown, and the ground is so uneven that at some point, all the rocks and bushes blur into each other unless you're accustomed to identifying plants by their leaves and fruits.

But getting lost in the forest is very normal. Especially in this forest. Here, in these woods, the trees liked to play—mischievously or not, that would be something you should ask Viktor, if you wanted to hear the answer, of course—the path would go on forever, turn abruptly to the left only to end up facing a bluff where the river ran, swirling with fury below.

In other times, the paths would narrow so much that even the lanky body of a child wouldn't be spared from scratching as nude branches peeked out the path, grasping clothes and hair and skin from every hiker that passed by as if to keep a memory of them.

Because many of them wouldn’t return from it.

An owl howled from a branch nearby, and you hear it jumping from tree to tree to watch your every step toward the forest's heart. You felt dozens of eyes looking at you from the shadows, the ghostly dog guiding your way ignoring them as it wiggled your tail at you.

Viktor told you the dogs that followed him didn't have a name—when they were alive, they probably did, but he couldn't know. Through the decades, the forest had recollected hunting dogs that tried to hurt the woods' creatures—they had also taken the humans that commanded them, but you already knew that. The perpetual bloody-stained fur was proof enough.

You had called one Snowy, because it was white and grey, with cold blue eyes; and because the ghostly dog used to follow you around even if there wasn't a full moon, even when Viktor was standing guard at the other side of the forest.

Snowy took the position of your guide as you walked around the forest alone—mostly while searching for Viktor, or when Viktor instructed you to help him with something as he was busying himself with other tasks.

You had walked this same path around seventeen times already. The first time following a scared and angry lumberjack; but contrary to that occasion, the line of the trees seemed to recede as you walked by, green, soft leaves spurting to fill the naked branches, hiding the thorns.

Snowy looked back at you, his snout only half-covered in fur, showing his eerily large canines in the bare half of his skull. It looked like a devious smile, but his fluffy tail was wiggling, so it meant Viktor was near.

You heard the gurgling of the river running by at a tranquil pace, singing a never-ending lullaby as it rippled liquid silver from the full moon's light in the pond a couple of meters behind Viktor’s cottage. His tall, imposing figure was there, lounging against a tree trunk, his third arm illuminating your way as soon as he saw Snowy striding into the clearing.

"Hi," you said because you didn't know how else you wanted to distract Viktor’s gaze from your walking figure as you approached him, hoping the light wouldn’t let your flush become too obvious. “I brought you some books and sweets from the village.”

Viktor hummed almost reverentially as you showed him a couple of books tucked inside the bag that swung on your left shoulder, under them, a cardboard filled with chocolates. “I see. Are you trying to buy off my affection, aren’t you?”

You chuckled. “As if I didn’t have it already.”

His golden eyes twinkled at you as his hand palmed the place next to him, a blanket laid over the grass where a basket stood half-open, and the insides smelled like newly baked bread.

The floor was cold when you sat, your long skirt hurdled around your legs like a grey halo, part of the fabric covering Viktor’s left knee.

Being inside the forest made you very nervous around Viktor—after all, it was his home. In your hut, you were the host, always running around to ask him if he wanted some tea or perhaps one of those chocolate chip cookies that you bought from the store next to the post office.

But here, in the forest, you felt as if everything was him as if every being could notice the way your heart seemed to increment its pace as his golden eyes looked at you with a strange mix of emotions that you didn’t dare to unravel with your shaky fingers.

You were trying to get the books out of your bag, when he gently put a hand above yours, his other palm carrying an orange.

“Here,” he said. “Let’s eat first, yes?” You took the fruit, but Viktor covered it with his palm, his fingers brushing yours. “Eh, I’m sorry. Do you want me to peel it for you?”

You blinked, his words seeping too slowly into your brain. “Uh—no, no. It’s alright.” Your cheeks grow hotter, probably not just the result of the cold air that filtered in the clearing. “Thank you.”

Viktor nodded, his hands starting to prepare the silverware as he fabricated compartments with cardamom soup and some roasted sweet potatoes. “I hope it’s good, it’s the last orange from the tree in my backyard.”

The last orange of the season? “Do you want to share it with me?” you find yourself saying, fingers digging at its peel as you started to take off the slices.

First, you took one, the sweet liquid sticking your lip as you raised one slice toward Viktor. You beamed at his confused expression. “Take it, is very good—so sweet!”

His hands were occupied while pouring the soup inside the bowls, so you gave it the orange directly to his mouth, your fingertips brushing his lips as he munched down the fruit.

You looked at him, thinking that your heart was beating so loud the townsfolk could hear it from the town’s square.

Viktor smiled. “Very sweet, indeed.”

You were going to pretend it didn’t happen. That the ghost of the brushing sensation of your fingers against his lips, the ones that still tingled your skin was only a feverish fantasy.

“So… have you found something about the kids?” you asked, and preferred not to, but it was one of the responsibilities the town had put over your shoulders. And the thought of letting it slide didn’t sit correctly with you.

His smile left, replaced by a gloomy expression that pressed his lips in a thin line. “Sadly, I didn’t—not even the dogs picked up a trail.” He left the dishes over the blanket, the flavory steam pulling out of them becoming not so appetizing after all. “I’m convinced they didn’t run off to the forest.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I wish the townsfolk would believe us.”

Viktor took one bowl filled with soup and placed it on your lap. “It’s understandable. They’re scared. If something bad happens, they need someone—something—to blame on. They have the forest; if they didn’t, they’d find another guilty party.”

The town’s incipient doubt and resentment washed off your mind in the remote part of the forest, here where you could lay your feelings and worries in front of Viktor without feeling like a disappointment.

You rested your head against Viktor’s shoulder, the food forgotten in your lap. He took one of your hands, a reassuring squeeze between your interlaced fingers. “We’ll figure it out,” Viktor muttered, his nose brushing the top of your hair. “I believe in us.”

You closed your eyes, hands enveloping his waist as you hugged him sheepishly, your grasp light and loose in case he wanted to push you away. But Viktor didn’t, instead tilting his body so it could block the growing cold wind from the night from hitting yours directly.

During your stay with him, everything seemed possible. You could discover the cause of those children’s disappearances; you could stop the growing hostility toward the forest.

And as you rested next to him, looking at the starry sky, a little part of you relished in the thought that Viktor’s heart could feel just as nervous and flustered as you did.  

The next day, you woke up early to the smell of coffee boiling in the hearth. The back door was open, letting the cold morning air filter around the house. You followed the path covered in cobblestone toward the backyard, where Viktor kept his plants.

Plowing lines with carrots, cucumbers, and potatoes perfectly aligned as Viktor revised his tomatoes, the red ones contrasting against the vivid green of the plant as his fingers pluck them away.

“You’re up early,” Viktor said when he caught your figure from the corner of his vision. “Strangely pleasant event, I may add.”

"I can go back to bed if I distract you too much,” you said, eating a strawberry that you found lying lonely in the bottom of a basket.

“I’d prefer if you don’t,” Viktor said, his hands buried in the dirt as he collected ginger roots. “I would miss you so much.”

You blinked, sleep clouding your judgment to pick the joke in his comment. Viktor walked where you were frozen in the middle of the way, putting a basket filled with carrots, potatoes, and ginger roots in your arms.

“Please wash them. I’ll go collect some apples and strawberries to make some porridge.” He patted your hair, and for a moment you forgot his hand was covered in dirt. “Wait for me to have breakfast together.”

You couldn’t have told him no, even if you wanted to. And you didn’t. You were here to make him company, so you'll take every moment you could spend next to him.

It came as a surprise that Viktor did have planned a physically demanding activity for you. He put a tiny shovel in your hand and told you to help him weeding his backyard and prune the rose bushes growing around his cottage, eerily similar to the ones starting to grow in yours.

The day was cloudy and windy as if the winter refused to go, but Viktor had lent you a sweater that was too big in the length of the arms and too snatched in the waist, but you didn’t mind. You looked at the fabric patched up way too many ways, feeling the worn-out, softest sensation of its brush against your skin.

After the sun was gone, you felt your hands numb from using the scissors and yanking away stubborn plants. Viktor warmed up water for a bath, and you collapsed on the couch, careful not to crush him too much as you laid on top of him.

The hearth was burning low with the incipient heat coming with spring, but you two were covered in a knitted blanket, your legs tangled against Viktor’s, hair wet stuck in your neck after taking a shower.

You had used Viktor’s liquid soap, a mixture of lemon, honey, and lavender essential oil; and while you read a book about botanic that you picked from the public library, you were trying to forget that you smelled like him—perhaps a very stupid excuse to feel as if you were growing closer to him, but for you, it did seem that way.

You lived with Viktor one week every month, after all. The first couple of visits were awkward, sure, but soon enough you expressed how silly was to relegate him to the tiny couch if you could sleep in the same bed as you did rest on the same couch as a mess of limbs.

“We’re friends, right?" you told him one day late at night when you saw him trying to accommodate his large body on the tiny couch. “We can sleep together—it’s something that friends do all the time, you know? It’s okay.”

Of course, it took you around three days to relax enough to fall asleep with his body so near yours, the way he sometimes forgot that he was sleeping next to you, so Viktor rolled over nearly crushing you between him and the mattress.

Sometimes Viktor startled you when he talked in his sleep, but you weren’t going to tell him that. Or about that time he hugged you like a teddy bear—he probably noticed, though, for the way he treated you the next day, his cheeks flustered all day long.

In some moment, between reading pages twenty-four to forty-seven, you heard the tiny raindrops of a drizzle tapping on the roof, wind moving the canopy that you could see from your half-sitting, half-lying position against Viktor's chest.

For the soft snores that reverberated in your back, he was already asleep, his engineering book forgotten in your lap. Instead, his hands were tucked around your waist, under the blanket.

Mat’s words were still entangled in your mind from time to time, highlighted every time you met with the forest’s guardian. That the town believed you were the forest’s wife—better put, Viktor’s wife.

You were glad he was asleep, or else he would catch you all flustered, with your waist tingling there where his hands brushed the worn-out fabric of your shirt.

Every full moon the same words ruminated in your mind until they became a never-ending loop hurdled in your brain, as you heard the whisper of the leaves moving with the wind, the familiar strides of Snowy and the other dogs circling the hut, in the soft greetings Viktor enunciated as soon as he heard your familiar steps against the forest’s clearings, his lips curled up in a smile.

This wasn’t what you bargained for that day in the forest. The town may have treated you like a material offering to the woods to improve its mood, but on slow nights like these, you knew you had offered your heart to the forest's guardian of free will.

Every time you stepped inside the forest to meet him, it wasn't because someone had obliged you—nor the town’s expectations of the fear of the woods—but because you’d miss Viktor, too. Even if he sometimes knocked on your backdoor as he passed by to give you some fruits or leave you a bouquet of wildflowers he picked along the way.

You hurdled in closer to him, closing your eyes as they became heavier, putting the books on the floor as you raised the blanket until it covered half your face. Between the drizzle tapping against the windows, and Viktor’s steady heartbeat, you dreamed of a magical forest where deep inside, someone was waiting for you.

Ever since summer, you had decided to spend more days with Viktor inside the forest. It was a good thing, but at the same time, it wasn’t.

The town had extended its distrust to you; hiring a physician and a nurse from the neighboring city to cure the ailments. Right next to the town's square church, it was a much safer option than crossing the town up the hill toward the forest where a witch lived by the woods.

You had shrugged it off when a dry letter noticed you about the new infirmary, but deep inside your stomach, you felt a heavy rock dropping in your insides, making it hard to move from your hunched position against the dining table.

It took a lot of effort to confess the matter to Viktor, if only he wouldn't notice you looked rather gloomy, even as you were taking in the scenery of the forest, with the sprouts of fruits starting to grow in the trees you passed by, some mushrooms peeking from the ground as Snowy sniffed them.

“They did the most logic option—one that I even told my grandma a couple of years ago—and now I’m feeling like they replaced me,” you said, the trees absorbing the noise of your voice, but not so the sobs that came after. “I know they’re not doing it to help me, but rather to alienate the forest and—.” To alienate us, you wanted to say.

The ground was muddy from the abundant drizzles that sprinkled the town at night; the corn grew up big and healthy thanks to it. You didn't care as you sat down on a muddy rock, ignoring that your pants would get a green mark.

“It’s unfair and ridiculous,” you sighed, Viktor sitting in front of you, his back against a tree bark. “The forest decided to give them—us all—a second chance, but they’re just… just… repeating it all over.”

You've heard the kids that came to your cottage when they had the flu when they had to stay overnight for some fever or stomachache. The way they closed the curtains in the bedroom and refused to look toward the forest as they waved you goodbye.

How they said that monsters wandered in the forest, ready to slaughter any trespasser.

Perhaps it was a stupid thing to get angry about; after all, they had only heard one version of the story, the one mourning widows and mothers and elders told, where a demonic forest had killed innocent people purely for amusement.

But as you looked around the greenery, with the canopy filtering the sunlight against the ground in a mosaic, artistry pattern against Viktor’s chestnut hair. With the flowers blooming and the fruits almost ripe, the sound of animals peeking from between the bushes and from above the branches, so they could look at the forest’s guardian; you questioned what of all this could be called monstrous.

And you knew that the townsfolk referred to Viktor and his dogs, to the magic the forest wielded to protect itself and the ancient life that lived inside it.

“It’s alright,” Viktor said, his soft words ripping you away from your repetitive, overwhelming thoughts. “We’re used to this—except the fire, of course.” But you couldn’t laugh about it, feeling bad right afterward because Viktor was trying to cheer you up.

“Had it always been like this?” you find yourself asking, fearing the answer.

He shrugged, pouting slightly. The changing light of the canopy moved by the wind created a strange sensation of timelessness. Viktor had briefly talked about the old times when he was still human, so for a moment, you can portray him as a young man stumbling in the clearing, sitting against a tree, his cane next to his worn-out, patched-up clothes.

“Yes,” Viktor said after a too-long silence.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me,” you started, but he shook his head, some locks covering his brow, obscuring his gaze that is lost in a landscape that isn’t there right now, but rather, in the past.

“I want you to know, and I think you’re deserving to know, too. If you wish to, of course.” He looked at you from the corner of his eye, seeing your hair move as you nodded.

Then, Viktor continued, his voice soft and slow, as if the words were too scared to come out. “I suppose I’m used to it.” Viktor removed in his seat, his hands on his lap inches apart from where Snowy had laid its snout on his legs. “Even when… when I lived in a village. I wasn’t like the rest of the kids, for I couldn’t play like them,” he chuckles, but it was a sour sound that time hadn’t been able to soften. “Sometime after, I stumbled upon magic books and… well, you know how people get scared of things they don’t understand.

"That's why I left when the people found out about my studies,” he continued. “But I had nowhere to go, only the forest.” Viktor had never mentioned his parents, so you didn’t wish to press on the matter. Maybe one day he’ll be ready to tell you, maybe not. In both cases, it was alright. “I don’t know how many weeks I spent here, sleeping in caves and under trees and eating seeds and berries—I got poisoned by one, one unlucky day, and I thought I’d die. That nobody would even look for me, even if I was very young to be wandering alone.”

His hand dug in the dirt, a tiny sprout blooming in the new hole created there. “But… I suppose the forest took pity on me when I pleaded for someone to help me. It then healed me and made me what I’m today. And that’s how I became the forest guardian.” He smiled at you, a strange, contained smile that was almost imperceptible. “That’s why I know it’ll be alright. The woods—and us, too—will always find a way. I promise.”

You felt tired. Somehow, returning to your cottage had become a tiring routine, a chore of defending the forest that in the past was so intertwined with the village that one wouldn’t survive without the other, the same core ideas put in different words falling into the same dismissing ears.

Even if Viktor didn’t tell you, you knew that he came from the village, there was no way he could come from another part—the closest town was kilometers away, a coastal city full of treacherous paths. And why go inland when you can take a ship out of town into another territory much further away?

You leaned near him, your hands on top of his. “I’m sorry, Viktor. I didn’t imagine—I… I couldn’t have ever imagined it.”

His gaze was deep and serious. “Please don’t pity me,” he muttered. “I’ve had the forest, and now, I have you,” Viktor says so low that you must be hearing things.

“I won’t,” you said, feeling your heartbeat picking up speed even if your throat was in knots. “Can I hug you?”

Viktor flushed slightly, the color climbing up from his cheeks to the tip of his ears. “I would love that, yes.”

You hugged him ignoring the rough surface of his wooden armor, trying not to press too much weight on his third arm. He smelled like home, a newly acquired essence that you had linked to home, to warm hearths and cozy evenings watching the rain, to richly cultivated vegetables and vibrant fruits caramelized whose nectar stuck your fingers as you bit them. To relaxing baths inside a tiny room hearing the stream of the river passing nearby; the creamy hand-made soap that made his essence linger on you when you came back to your cottage.

Tears made your vision blurry as you clung onto his body, breathing him in. “You have me now,” you said, with an irregular, strained voice. “I won’t leave you alone. I promise.”

He smiled, you could feel it as Viktor buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath creating goosebumps along your skin. “Thank you, sweetbriar.”

It was a hot night, the summer extending its grip where the storms of fall would be followed by air so hot it felt as if being trapped in a boiling pot. The ground was filled with puddles you tried to avoid, because the last time you submerged your ankle in a pit of mud that at simple view had seemed shallow.

The sky was naked with no moon, starts barely shining over the navy-blue surface between the thick canopies. You walked next to Viktor, his hand on yours as you stepped over dry branches and fallen foliage. The buzzing of insects had grown stronger despite the promising freezing winter that filtered in sudden cold blows of air.

His light was off as you made your way back to your cottage, a basket half-full of vegetables and fruits Viktor had picked from his backyard swinging on his left hand. He didn't wish any people from town to look at him and spread the word about his existence besides the frightening stories they told their children at bedtime.

“Nobody knows what the Forest’s Guardian is like, or if I’m more than an immaterial spirit. Only you,” he told you, taking your hand into him as you walked back to the forest’s edge. “I would like to keep it that way if you don't mind.”

“I don’t," you muttered because otherwise, you weren't sure you could talk without your voice sounding wavy and nervous. “You’d be my little secret, then.”

Viktor chuckled, stopping when the forest opened in the crop fields surrounding your hut. He turned slightly, and you had to tilt your head backward to take him in. "I like how that sounds.” His golden eyes flickered with mischief now that the darkness allowed him to take off his mask as he walked you home.

“Me too.” You extended your hand for him to give you your basket, but instead, he took your other hand. “Oh.”

“I hope you can permit me to say that I would like to keep you my secret, too. Alas, I know I can't,” Viktor said suddenly. Your eyes were glued to his as your brain tried to scramble around for words. “But I’ll miss you, nevertheless. I find myself missing you even though you're spending more time with me," he smiled a little, and you knew that if he would have illuminated the way, you'd seen him blush. "I've become greedy, I suppose."

You hugged him, ignoring the sharp edges of his armor, thinking about all the time he had to spend alone in the forest before you met him. You looked up at his eyes, trying to conceive all the sincerity you were feeling in them. You hoped that at least he could hear your frenetic heartbeat, and feel the slight shake of your hands between his.

“I want you to know that if I could live with you inside the forest forever, I would do it,” you replied. “You’re always welcome to my home. And I’ll go back to you in three weeks. I'll come back to your side—a deal struck or not.”

He was so close you could feel his breath moving the rebel locks poking in your forehead as Viktor whispered, still unsure. “Do you promise?”

“I promise.” You felt his hands around your waist, the basket gently tucked in the ground as Viktor hugged you back. You tiptoed in your boots, feeling the soft ground crumbling beneath the pressure; but it was alright, for your arms were around Viktor’s neck. You kissed him softly, barely the friction of your lips against his, feeling the reverberating of his gasp against your chest and the fluttering movement of his eyelashes against your cheekbones.

You pulled away too quickly, sensing the disappointment weighing in the air. But there would be time for more. “I think I must go now,” you said with an apologetical smile. “I don’t want to keep you from doing your vigil.”

“You should’ve thought about it before," Viktor said, and you gazed at him briefly, eyebrows arched. “Now I’m going to have distracting thoughts of you all night.”

The sound of your laugh was cut short when he bent down to steal a kiss from you, just another peck. It was your turn to gasp, your balance is thrown off as you had to grasp his shoulders to avoid falling backward.

Who knows how long would this silly game had take if you wouldn't be interrupted by the echo of your front door being banged with such force, you couldn't stop from fearing a knot of fear suspended in your stomach.

“A very desperate patient,” Viktor said lightly, but he was frowning as you walked toward the edge of the forest. From the gate of the cottage, you saw an amorph mass of people gathering over the entrance. "I'll check on you from your backyard if that's fine for you?"

You shook your head. “It’s alright, I’ll be okay. Take care, Viktor. I’ll see you soon.” And then you turned away, feeling lonely without his hand accompanying you home.

You ran toward the people, your steps muffled by the overgrown grass the rain had carried with you. They were an elder and a younger woman forcefully carrying a teenager that couldn’t stand.

“Please help us!” The younger woman pleaded as you opened your door, helping them carry the teenager over your couch. “He’s burning in fever and vomiting blood! What’s wrong with him?”

Upon flicking on the light of your candlesticks, you saw that the teenager’s brow was covered in sweat, blue eyes looking at you with what you could only call delirium imprinted on them, a yellowish hue painted in their scleras.

A chill ran down your body, making your arms covered in goosebumps. You remember seeing things like this when you lived in the city.

"Has he been in the coastal town?” You had never seen him before.

“Yes,” said the younger one, the one you supposed was the mother. “Theo works at the docks, but he was sent home three days ago. Why?”

You paused for half a second, your steps faltering as you revised your medicines cabinet trying to find willow bark to stop his fever. Sent home randomly? You furrowed, scanning if you had some camphor at the bottom of the drawer. It wasn't the first time you'd heard about the plague raiding cities, you had moved a couple of times, with your parents, when that occurred in neighboring cities to where you were residing.

Only that couldn’t run away this time.

“In summer,” you started, putting meadowsweet in a boiling pot. “It’s common that some coastal and swampy cities get diseases from miasmas plaguing the air. Perhaps that’s why he— why Theo was sent home.”

The women shook their heads. “No, that can’t be. Theo can’t be sick, not like that. It's just the flu, right? It has to be.”

You didn’t answer, signaling a cot tucked in a corner of the living room. “I’ll put him in the cot over there, you can stay if you wish.” The pop sound of the glass bottle made the women look at what you were doing instead of looking at Theo’s afflicted expression. You put some camphor in a glass of water, take lemons from Viktor's basket and squeeze their juice to pour on it. "Let's see how he reacts to the medicine, and depending on how he reacts, we'll see what to do next."

You gestured to the worn-out couch. “You can stay there. I’ll go prepare a cold bath for him.”

It was a rough night, because plague nights always were, with death hovering so close. You read it in the newspapers, sometimes hearing your grandma telling you about when the town was sieged by the red fever, when kids were crying, and parents were sobbing by equal in this same hut.

You filled the house with burning sage and incense, hoping that the plague wouldn’t extend to the town—the miasmas would relish in the hot climate and vast vegetation of the forest to thrive.

The bath helped control his fever, your hand felt numb with the sponge you were continuously squeezing on his forehead and around his chest and soaking it again.

Sometimes you tried to call his name, to assure yourself that he was still there somewhere, fighting. His blue eyes would focus on you in one blink, and as the night went by, he would even smile sometimes.

“Mom,” Theo said, his voice weak and wavy. “It’s so cold in here.”

You stroke his hair, brushing away the golden locks that were stuck to his brow with sweat. "I'm sorry, child," you cooed. "It'll feel better soon." I think. I hope. You swallowed the words, focusing on the present, soothing Theo’s shivering body with an out-of-tune lullaby.

Working as a healer would always mean meeting with death every once in a while, and on occasions like this one, you knew you'd encounter it as many as to consider it an acquaintance.

"Theo?" you called once, the clock in the hallway marking around 4:20 AM. This time, the boy didn't answer. You looked at him, at your hand now covered with wrinkles from having it underwater for hours in a row. His face was still red, the fingers he had diligently interlaced in his lap becoming limp, and then his gaze was lost forever. "Oh, Theo—”

How am I supposed to tell your family?

Theo’s passing wasn’t your first encounter with death as a healer—but it didn’t make it easier. It still made you feel like a failure, the words stuck in your throat as you walked back the tiny hallway to your bathroom and the living room. You loathed the knowing dread of their gazes as they saw you returning before the sun would appear in the sky once again.

You didn't even blink when the younger woman shook your body, bruising your arms as she clung to you, telling you that you had killed her son. It wasn’t true, but for you, it had felt that way. That you didn’t do enough, that you weren’t good enough.

Perhaps it was a good idea to have hired a new physician and a nurse after all.

But even so, as you walked toward the town looking for the gravedigger, a heavy feeling suspended in your stomach told you that this was just the beginning.

*~*~*~*

It took another three days of scarce people coming in, and fewer of them coming out, for the governess of town to come to your hut, a couple of assistants flanking her as she told you that you were needed downtown, not here, in the woods.

"I'm afraid you're too far away from the patients. You’ll be best staying at the infirmary in the town’s square.” The woman barely looked at you, her nervous gaze darting toward the forest that stood still, expectant. “We have prepared you a room to stay, you can move right away.”

You moved away from your leaned position against the threshold as the governess' assistants carried the patients out of the house and down to the town's square. “But—”

“We need you now, dear," she told you, her hand hovering awkwardly as if trying to touch you on the shoulder. “Your grandmother wouldn’t have hesitated.”

It hurt, but you gulped down the acidic answer of well, I’m not my grandmother.

You didn't wish to leave, not because you were clingy to the forest, but because the forest had become your solace when you reclined against a tree, a prolonged silence between you and Viktor as your hut was too crammed up with sick people that you needed to take a break inside the woods. Both tried to breathe in calmly or broke down in a myriad of sobs that ultimately made their knees collapse against the humid, cold floor.

The first time Viktor saw you crying, he chose the dogs to be the ones consoling you, because, after the kiss, he didn't want to be too pushy. You hugged the dogs then, not caring if they smelled like mud and dry blood, if you couldn't hear their hearts beating as you snuggled your cheek against their necks, feeling their cold skin underneath.

The second day, however, Viktor started to sit next to you as you cried your eyes out until your throat was too sore to even speak anymore. His hand patted your shoulder, and little by little he gathered enough courage to hug you. It was when the forest hugged you, too; its trunks closed around you two like a cocoon that absorbed the sound of your crying, reflecting Viktor's golden light as if it were a giant firelight.

“I’m so useless.” One day you dared to tell him, your voice muffled against his wooden armor, safely tucked away in a corner of the forest where you felt too little to care about expressing your deepest fears, your doubts. “I can’t stop this—why can I stop this?” you cried out, death and suffering clouding your mind, eating away all those brief sparks of hope each time you saved a life.

Viktor had kissed the top of your head. He couldn't find the words he wanted to use to soothe you, he probably knew no words would be enough. But Viktor wanted you to know you weren't alone, that he'll be there to remind you about your importance, for the village, the woods, and himself.

Now, you looked at the governess and felt fear. You dreaded and loathed the side stares of the townsfolk at seeing you put a foot inside the infirmary, muttering in poisoned tones about your relationship with the forest, and with them. Were you there to help them, or you were trying to punish them in the forest’s name?

And then, an intruder thought took a corner of your mind as its home: what would happen if you got sick with the fever and could never return to the forest?

"I'll go," you sighed. A defeated short answer, you had to admit. It was your only opportunity to make them know that any grudge the woods had had with the village was gone now because they had sent her as a mediator—as an offering—to the forest. You wanted to show them that the past balanced relationship between the forest and the village could be restored if so they wished. “Could you give me a moment?”

She tilted her head, her lips being a thin line. “Do not take too long.”

You took the bag you brought to Viktor's hut, with a couple of clothes, and threw some other articles you would need; a brush, toothbrush, a spare pillow, and a blanket for those fleeting moments where you could sleep, if dreams would be benevolent enough to claim you, of course.

You scribbled a messy note on an already used paper, crossing out a list from groceries as you quickly let Viktor know about the situation, in case he would walk around the property and found no one there.

Mr. Forest Guardian, you wrote, your hands shaky, the pen sticky with sweat. You hoped nobody peeked at your letter, but to rule out chances, your aching heart decided to write a simpler, dry note.

          Mr. Forest Guardian

        I hope you get to read this soon. I'll be settling in the town's square for some weeks—until the plague is subsided. That would mean that sadly I won't be meeting you during the full moon.

        I ask the woods for forgiveness, wishing they could give it, both for me and the town.

        I’ll see you soon.

        Please take care.

 You tiptoed downstairs, opening your backyard while pretending to look for some medicine bottles stocked in the kitchen. The governess was commanding the assistants around to move certain patients first, her voice muffling the sound of your back door while you opened it.

The day was warm, the sun illuminating the green scenery as you walked to your back gate, sticking the folded note between the lock so the paper could contrast against the rusty metal. Your gaze was directed at the forest, feeling a strange tug in your chest as you nodded almost reverentially before you turned back to the house.

When you were helping carry a patient to town, the governess and her assistants were so near you, that you couldn't look back at the forest, even when you felt that someone was watching you from between the trees.

[janujaja]

Literally @lost-my-sanity1 being an MVP and tagging me in everything so that I don't disappear from this world. Thankyou kiddo.

So yes! List of 10 comfort bl shows haha oookie.

1. MSP - My School President [Thai]- TINNGUN - GEMINIFOURTH [ do I even need to. Have u seen my tumblr. Yes. Thankyou Next.]

2. Bad Buddy [Thai] [ Carved a HOLE in my heart when it ended. ]

3. Bleuming [Korean] [hashtag one of the FEW series I can watch over and over again cuz the vibes are just. IMMACULATE.]

4. Semantic Error [Korean] [again love it so much cuz I read the manga first and the two have given LIFE to the characters so so so so so well I lou them I miss jaechan plz come back.] I also love it for its wider implications on making the kpop industry much more LGBTQ+ tolerable but that's for another time.

5. Keita Hatsukoi [Japan] [I still find it bewildering how I was able to fall in love with the EXTRAness of Shunsuke Michieda (Aoki) in the series, and just for that, he and Ren (Ida) have my heart.] I am so so so scared as to how the thai version shall go but then again it's my geminifourth so.

6. Jack o' Frost [Japan] [why was it so good? Why were BOTH of them such baby gurls? Why? No one will ever know.]

7. A Tale of a Thousand Stars [Thai] [Literally got me back into bls during pandemic. The bgm, the village vibes, THEM, chefs kiss. I have even sent @hereforb99 crying vids way back in the days.]

8. Be My Favourite the series [Thai] [I genuinely just watch it for the theme song that they kept playing every 5 seconds (am I one of the few people who was obsessed with it?) plus the surprising chemistry of gawinkrist. Loved it. Did rewatch a lot of eps cuz of it.]

9. Triage the series [Thai] [There wasn't anything comforting abt the series per say throughout 🤡 but like IT WAS CUTE AND SOFT SHUT UP]

10. Bite Me the series [Thai] [SEE so the ending was crap and the last 2 to 3 eps were also crap :). But I LOVED the first few eps and the BGM 🥺 I LOU ME A BGM THAT CAN HOOK ME OKAY LEAVE ME ALONE.]

VEry special mention cuz list said 10 lel. Lovely Writer. I love Lovely Writer. If I had the brains to reactive my tumblr when that was running, this would have been a Lovely Writer blog first. Yes I love the BGM TOO. SHUT IT.

I don't have anyone else to tag :) har har.

[the-art-in-arthesia-is-loud]

ugh yk what fuck it. rain code oc

i'm not finished with rain code btw. still in chapter 1. might start ch2 tonight or tmrw lel

random rambles under the cut~☆

OK YES HI WELCOME TO UNDER THE CUT™ AGAIN :3

one thing i'd like to mention is the fact that kara is not safe from the Weird Surname thing the rain code cast has got goin on (gazing intensely at you kokohead and hellsmile)

second thing is the fact that her design does feel too simple to be a rain code oc........but eh. she's not a master detective from the wdo so what am i supposed to do with her design?

either way kara is the typical overly nice person who sometimes can be mean but then regrets being mean like. a day later. she overthinks a lot, but tries to set that aside for the sake of master detective activities. she's a citizen in kanai ward, hence the doodle of her with the hood of her jacket over her head (lol)

despite always regretting when she acts mean to others, she doesn't feel a twinge of regret when she talks shit abt the amaterasu corporation, esp when it comes to yomi, bc she hates him so much she wants to grill him (based kara)

she is also not that much of a great socializer (this is me projecting onto her) but if she's with the people she's super close with she'll be more talkative even when a stranger is there

i don't have an idea for her forte yet tho, so if anyone can tell me any ideas, then it would bs appreciated! ty!

ok that's all i rlly wanna say abt her honestly lmaooooo thanks for reading this if you did :)