#perhaps I make this canon to this blog perhaps I do

[zhongrin]

i'm buzzing from coffee so here we go. sorry if i missed anyone, my memory is akin to the invertebrates sometimes. also i'm tagging people who may not even know i exist in this, so if you don't want to be tagged, no hard feelings, lmk and i can remove it ᰔᩚ

ps. this is all /pos, /lh, and /genuine with some /silly sprinkled in

@queen-belial i have 0 idea who astarion or durge is, and i have never played baldur's gate in my life. but nevertheless, know that i am always so utterly enamored at the rare crumbs of art and fics you post.

@abyssmal-skies you're one of the few people who are still into traditional art and i think it's amazing!!!

@harmonysanreads with her crazy deep in-depth character analysis proficient brain writes banger after bangers of yandere works that will make you shiver in a good way.

@brynn-lear is yet another lv.999 yandere writer, with her plot twists, unique ideas, signature art, → !!!GAMES!!! <-, and cannibalism tendencies.

@mochinon-yah with her amazing amazing art and personality as sweet as her name.

@euniveve with her series and worldbuilding and amazing arts like girl how does your brain work i need to study it.

@pranabefall who cuts open my heart and stabs far too many needles in it before sewing it back up (wow thanks, doctor) with her beautifully painful fics.

@jessamine-rose the concept of playing with dollhouses as a blog 'theme' itself is already so unique, but the worldbuilding and character building jess is doing in every fic of hers is INSANE!!!

@naraven alon oh alon.... your music. you're the toby fox in our squad in my head and i really hope one day your music will be heard by all.

and if we're speaking about beautiful proses being written to mesmerize your senses, @chryseis-lxve aka cherry does it like no other!!!!

@teabutmakeitazure serves quality dark tea for your aventurine, childe, and chrollo fixations ☕️

@dottiro is THE canon dottore writer in my head but their pantalone fics especially are so 🫶🏻🔥🩸 (interpret those emojis as you will)

@stickyspeckledlight may use whimsy and silly words in their fics but you'll look up from their works at the end of the day and go 'what the fuck /pos'.

@crystalflygeo writes delicious smut (and will occasionally break your heart *sideeyes LoHK*) and will beckon you to visit her blog more for more delicious food (perhaps pet the local deer in the process too).

@floraldresvi may not be your 'typical writer' where she posts drabbles under the 'x reader' tag, but she drops a bouquet of happiness into her friends' inbox and i respect that so much ᰔᩚ

@silentmoth if the utterly adorable moth persona didn't bait you into looking into moth's blog then you're a monster let me just say i binged moth's masterlist. it was very worth it. 20/10 would do it again.

@pawpiefawn's calming, quaint vibe doesn't deceive - it's a cozy space for wriothesley and al haitham enjoyers, but let's be real here. i think the main charm here is miss ying's personality!!!

@silkjade has a way of writing that will leave you wondering what beautiful truly means because her aesthetics sense is top-tier and it flows into the way she writes her fics ✨

@pearlywritings has super comforting and fluffy fics that makes my day and some spicy stuff that makes me go 👀 → 🤔 → 🤤... i don't even kiss diluc but i want to root for familyau!diluc and reader, they're SO LOVABLE.

@the-travelling-witch has a plethora of magical potions you can select from, but just be careful because the poisons are as potent as the love potions ;)

@risustravelogue may be on hiatus but will still forever be one of my favorites because time means nothing to the kinship i have over fellow devs doing art and writing ;w;

the combination of @persicipen's pastel colors and the way she writes always leaves me feel like i've just watched a grand performance at a local classical concert at the end of every fic ✨

@lovegasmic if mila's theme(s) isn't pulling you in then i am silently questioning your aesthetic sense her yummy drool-worthy smut fics will. the o■■p■s fic.... the kn■■■■■g fic.... mmm.... yes.....

no big sis? no problem! @grimmweepers is THE big sister figure and THE al haitham writer for your al haitham fixations.

@unriding if evie's personality hasn't pulled you in then you're a monster her moze musings and fics will; i don't even kiss him but she makes him look so squishy (/pos).

@euthymiya with her quality writing pumps content after content of quality dishes (and side dishes of personal rambles which i find endearing) all over my dash, it's amazing.

@saetiate if their url didn't clue you in their wit then let me ー you'll find banger genshin and hsr smutfics that will blow your mind like it did mine.

i used to associate @catcze with pink but now i just associate her with being one of the aesthetic queens bc every theme is SO pretty ー delve into her wriothesley tag, you will not be disappointed.

@xeraeus with the amazing amazing art that i always somehow miss because timezone is a bitch (jun, i still think you're secretly a wizard or something bc how do you finish commissions that fast!!!).

@danijaci needs no introduction, we all know they're an absolute madlad in drawing (/pos) and those comics + blushing series + biker series will alwasy live in our head rent-free.

i personally think a good artist can relay a story or depict an object with a few lines because it shows that they fully understand the essence of things - which is what @erabu-san does splendidly.

idk if this is allowed but can we make this ask into a post where everyone tags their favorite content creators/artists/fic writers in the fandom so that they get the recognition and love they deserve!!

let's do it!! 💖💖💖

@jojaxcola @crispyanonart @eemamminy-art @itsmeglycine @nicoleknives thank you for all your wonderful sdv art <3

[sprunkimortality]

i saw the blog for the sister au . what is the mortality sprunkis thoughts on the nightfall sprunkis

(Completely hypothetical, probably only canon in multiversal interactions lol)

Oren: "Aw, he's real chill, dude. I wanna game with him and the boys sometime. By the boys, I mean like...our boys, and his boys." Raddy: "...stuck-up little son of a sprinkle." Clukr: "I intend to study him someday. It's intriguing how our worlds match and yet also differ."

Fun Bot: "TWIN!! YEAAAAH!!"

Vineria: "Our auras blend so well. I mean, we're like the same person...so it totally makes sense. There's also something alluring about her...but it's not an aura thing."

Gray: "I wonder if he also likes The Divine Machine." Brud: "Two Brud! Is like brudda! Wowa!!" Garnold: "He's a pretty cool guy, I'm not gonna lie! I should ask him if he wants to hang out sometime...totally not doing anything Clukr wouldn't approve of..." OWAKCX: "H- H- He seems to have things w- worse than me...I- I want to b- be friends with him, hoohoo..." Sky: "It's wild how we're the same person yet are so different. I can't play any ball games, for one."

Mr. Sun: "Oh, radiance! We're like two stars in a space! How joyous!" Durple: "The fellow is quite pleasant, you know. Nice guy! But...goodness me, his clothes...his fashion! Where's the pizzazz? Where's the fabulousness? If he's a version of me, then he's a rather strange one! Perhaps he's never gotten the chance...? Oh, I must be generous! I will give him a makeover when I find the chance to!" Mr. Tree: "I'm used to seeing other trees, but not exactly another me, so his existence is a pleasant surprise." Simon: "Oh golly-gee! I love other Simon! He's so awesomesauce, and so friendly, and so so SOOOO cool and awesomesauce!! Wait did I say that twice?" Tunner: "Heh, it's like lookin' at a mirror that can talk. A mirror that ain't quite perfectly reflective, but that ain't a bad thing. He's a lil' more uptight than I am, but I don't mind."

Mr. Fun Computer: "...how come HE gets legs? :( "

Wenda: "Oh my gosh, she's like, so adorable. Like looking at myself as a kid, but like, not really? Cause like, when I was her age, I didn't act like that- but you get it right?" Pinki: "She's a sweetie pie! I guess that's to be expected cause we're the same person! Teehee~! I'd love to have a picnic with her someday!" Jevin: "It's a delight, you see, to find someone just like me. Haha, hahaha..."

Black: "...not a fan." Saves: "Oh, he's quite literally just like me when I was younger...back when I was still an adventurous lad. Ahh...I miss those days...those days when I'd...I'd...oh, dear. I don't remember what I've done, but...I know it must've been fun."

Ciqu: "...I wonder if he knows."

Sprinkles: "She's a little bit littler than I am, but that's okay! We still have fun together! I like drawing with her!" Calvin: "Having what's kinda like a twin's real cool. And since he's me, he likes sneaking around as much as I do! He's fun. Wait...maybe I could do the thing with him where we swap places and trick everyone...heheheheh...."

[rainbow-scarab]

Sly's Past in the Crossroads

I coulda sworn I put this on my blog but perhaps I mix it up with all those times I've told people on Discord so XD here we are. Theory post time.

Sly used to live in the Crossroads, in that little village where you first find him. I think this for a few reasons.

First, I must speak of Sly's age.

The stasis seems to have some odd effects on bugs, some of which seem to have lived a long time. I'm just assuming that aspect of stasis for this post. Sly trained the Nailmasters, and is almost certainly older than them. Some of Sheo's dialog has him speak of the Great Knights (and sculpt them). He seems quite familiar, at least for someone with an interest in the kingdom's warriors. But according to Lemm, "Both [the Great Knight's] names and appearance seem to have been expunged from history." So it seems Sheo, and by extension Sly, are old enough to have been around during Hallownest's heyday, perhaps centuries ago.

This raises an interesting contradiction. The game manual calls Elderbug "the oldest resident of Dirtmouth". Dirtmouth, it seems, has been living on the edge of the Kingdom, free of the stasis. Elderbug looks and acts old, but he's just....normal old, not supernaturally old like Sly. He doesn't know what Hallownest was like long ago except in stories. When you open the stag station in Dirtmouth, he says "That building lay silent since before even my time."

So, what to do with this discrepancy? Surely Team Cherry could never make a mistake, could they?? If Sly was originally from somewhere else, perhaps that could explain the wording that Elderbug is Dirtmouth's oldest.

(I've heard some say there are some mistakes in the game manual as compared to the game XD it could be for this but that's not all I have here for my theory)

We find Sly in that little village, the same one where we find Gruz Mother and Salubra, in a house that's falling apart. He's partially infected, though Ghost is able to break him out of his haze. Bugs become infected through their dreams. Bardoon says:

I resist the light's allure. Union it may offer, but also a mind bereft of thought… To instinct alone a bug is reduced…

We see reference to the instinctual state of bugs as well in a few entries of the Hunter's Journal, such as guards continuing to act as guards. Sly is not as far gone, but I had to wonder. Why does dream lead him there? To a village that's mostly dead? He thinks of Oro, his past pupil, and whoever Esmy is (I think another prior (and probably dead) pupil, but that's for another post). When Ghost breaks him out of his early state of infection, he says:

…I see. This old village. What a strange dream, to have led me down here! If you hadn't found me, I don't think I would've ever woken.

He seems to recognize it instantly, even from the inside of a broken house. I think he used to live there, in that same house. A place he knew well, ingrained in him deeper than his current house (and life) in Dirtmouth. Where even if half asleep his feet could carry him there on instinct.

...Lastly. I think. I think Sly and Salubra used to be dating XDDDDDD sorry I am subjecting you all to this. But I have reason to believe it. Or at least that they were flirty in the past.

I think Salubra talks to Ghost somewhat like she used to talk to Sly. She calls Ghost a "gadfly" a couple of times. And this word has a few meanings. One is literally a kind of fly, and Sly is a fly as well. Another is "social butterfly", which could be what Salubra is thinking of (especially with calling Ghost "stylish" and "dapper" alongside the word). BUT THE THIRD DEFINITION--

WHO'S MORE OF A BLOODSUCKER THAN SLY LOLLLLLLL

I rest my case, Salubra used to call Sly her dapper gadfly, Slylubra canon

.

.

(ahem, my primary evidence is mostly the dream instinct aspect as far as Sly's former home, but shhhh Sly/Salubra is clearly the most important outcome of the lore XD)

[wingspiked]

oh my god oh my god Jenna just sent me the coolest twitter theory about Sunday omf omg omg

READ IT HERE

[puffpawstries]

you guys wont believe what brain rot is coming back....

so gonna update this blog a bit now

[sfznyxio]

-ˋˏ WILDEST FANTASIES ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. you are irresistible and a source of temptation, especially in his imagination.

CHARACTERS. oikawa tooru, hanamaki takahiro, matsukawa issei, iwaizumi hajime

CONTENT. f!reader. canon-compliant, post-timeskip (2021). smut. 1.8k wc. rewrite of wildest fantasies at my old nsfw blue lock group blog @/bllk-after-dark, moved to haikyuu for an age-appropriate cast. reader is in a relationship with all except makki. seijoh 4 imagine how they would fuck reader. other warnings vary for each section and will be listed there instead because uh, it’s a lot.

VERA. sorry, the power of horny took over. i never read the manga, so i went with the seijoh 4 as the scenarios suit them the most. i struggled with makki and mattsun, so they may seem ooc. i guess I'm celebrating kinktober with this fic lol.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. OIKAWA TOORU

breeding kink, creampie, edging, fingering, jealousy (toward a teammate and kageyama), marking

mine is written on your skin with invisible ink. oikawa fumes at a player from his team talking to you, seemingly enjoying his company when he sees you laughing. he doesn’t experience rage often, but it can get worse when the infamous “king of the court” from the opponent team strikes up a conversation with you.

“what’s with the silent treatment, tooru?” the drive to the hotel is tense, and he treats you like a ghost. he also feels similar, for different reasons. when the two of you arrive at your room, he pins you down on the door with arms above your head and cunt on his knee. lust clouds his eyes as his tongue battles against yours and teeth nips at your throat, leaving a trail of bruises in its wake. 

“craving attention from him, out of all people when i’m here? i’m hurt.” you gasp at the friction of his knee on your cunt. his fingers slip inside, pumping them agonizingly slow as punishment. “think he can fuck you like this? hah, want everyone and that brat to know you’re mine.”

to prolong this type of behavior, you decide to instill delicious images in his head. “oh, how are you gonna show me off then? you’ve already done the hickeys. but what about a ring on my finger? or your cum out of me? or perhaps, a baby in me?”

oikawa pulls his fingers out when you’re nearing an orgasm. the impulse to buy a ring with his salary and propose you live, fuck you in the locker rooms to mark you with his cum, and knock you up so that guy can mind his damn business. he spends the entire night ramming his cock in you to make sure it takes.

“there you are! i had to ask one of your teammates where you were, but he’s so nice that i lost track.” oikawa is back at the court, dazed from his daydreaming. you didn’t notice him blanking out as you’re busy geeking out about his plays. “watching a match live was so exciting! i finally got to see your sets up close. one of the guys from the other team was your underclassman, right? i think he’s good too!”

he shuts you up with a kiss, and the audience reacts in a domino effect. the cameras pan to the two of you; his fans freak out that he is actually taken, and his teammates — as well as him — are in pure disbelief. you wonder why he did that. he looks proud of himself so you say nothing. “there. now the whole world knows.”

𝄞༉‧₊˚. HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO

begging, mutual masturbation, nipple play, phone sex, thoughts of oral sex (f!receiving), toxic relationships (with reader’s ex)

relief washes over him hearing that you broke up with ex over the phone. hanamaki never liked them to begin with, nor does he understand what you see in them. being the good friend he is, he remains civil, painfully. though it’s not as painful as suppressing his sinful thoughts about you squirming under touch, however.

“hey, makki. can you do me a favor?” he loves your voice. you saying his name is his greatest weakness. though it’ll be better to have you moan it in his ears when he rails you into a begging mess. now he feels guilty for harboring these feelings as he promised to only play as the ‘good friend’. but promises break eventually. “can you make me forget about them?”

the lines of friendship blur into indescribable tension. you express your frustration over lack of spice in your sex life, rambling about how badly you want to be fucked on someone’s mouth. the cries of your breasts and clit aching to be touched makes his cock to strain in his pants. sex isn’t a topic you confide in with your friends, but it does not matter now. you called him to forget after all.

“to tell you the truth, you’re driving me crazy,” he sighs with his head on the board while he pumps his length. labored breaths and whimpers are heard on your end. “what if i tell you i’m jerking off to you now, wishing i was inside that pretty pussy of yours? and what about you, wishing my mouth is there too and on your pretty tits to claim what has been mine in the first place?”

“i’m yours, always yours!” your whines turn into squeals, which has him cum on his hand. his body slumps over the edge of his bed, catching his breath alongside you. if you’re here, he would leave more proof that you are forever his with your ex nonexistent in your world. yet it’s all white noise. the entire time he has been spacing out, so you were waiting for an eternity for him to say something.

“hello? earth to makki?” hanamaki realizes the dried stickiness on his hand from his cum. he has been mindlessly jacking off to your voice. “i asked if you could do me a favor but i’d rather stop by your place to cool off. is it okay if i come over?”

“yeah. see you.” you thank him before hanging up. hanamaki tosses his phone away, contemplating what he has done. never, ever will he do this again and vows to not speak on it. all he can do is to maintain his role to comfort you through your breakup. he will do whatever it takes to prove he is indeed the better choice. there will be the day where you’re his for the taking.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. MATSUKAWA ISSEI

body worship, lap dance, lingerie, riding, sex toys (vibrator), strip tease, voyeurism

speechless is his reaction to you clad in lace lingerie. matsukawa develops a strong urge to impale you on his cock that is strained in his pants, just like how his arms are at the sides of his seat. for now he can only ogle at your body, a temptation for him to give into his desires, along with your alluring expressions.

the lingerie surprise tips him over the edge. he follows your fingers trail from your breasts to your clit, agonized by the drag of one of them along the lips back and forth. he grips his seat so hard he could feel the bones of his hands break. oh how he wants you so badly, but being the menace you are, you insist to stay patient until the end of your performance.

“not yet. keep your eyes on me.” you lift his chain to face you, with your mouth ghosting over his. how can he also enjoy the sight when you are torturing him with the sway of your hips, the flex of your thighs, and the bra straps hanging off your shoulders? and when you grind on his bulge with a vibrator in you which is your source of pleasure instead?

he finds himself matching your rhythm with an arm around your waist and the other cradling your head, kissing you as if his life depends on it. as clothes fly left and right, he yanks out your vibrator coated with your slick and finally plunges you onto him, having you seated for his show. how the tables have turned. now you’re the one being tortured, pounded with quick upward thrusts from him.

“now for the grand finale.” despite your protests to slow down, he wants to relish your body which is contorting in pleasure through the mirrors. a multitude of thrusts later, he reaches his climax and feels you clench, making sure you didn’t miss a single drop. it’s a shame that time goes by fast, because he sure wants to see your body arch for him over and over again.

“you know, it’s rude to stare without saying anything.” loud noises flood his ears. matsukawa is at the mall with you to help you buy new clothes to spice up your wardrobe. though when you mean by ‘spice up’, he does not expect to see you in lace lingerie at the fitting rooms. “so, uh… what do you think?”

matsukawa thinks that you may have a hidden agenda to seduce him, or just trying out the lingerie for fun. he marvels at how it suits your body, making you nervous. an idea pops into his head and whispers into the shell of your ear. “hm, not sure. why don’t you buy and put it on tonight for me so i can see it better?”

𝄞༉‧₊˚. IWAIZUMI HAJIME

aftercare, consent, insecurities, loss of virginity, missionary, petnames (baby), praise

sorry is your automatic reply when iwaizumi hints at wanting sex. you’re a virgin, so thoughts of being unable to satisfy someone experienced are rooted into your head. on the contrary, it’s a massive turn on. since it is your first time, he wants to make it extra special. he’s more excited than he should be so he tries to tone it down to not scare you.

you stare at him like a lost puppy as your partner reaches for your face. he smirks at how entranced you are when his fingers glide to your chin and then over your lips. he kisses you hard that you’re out of breath and pushes you to the bed. you begin to breathe normally again as he takes off his shirt, making his heart flutter, knowing that his body is for your eyes only.

“you can keep going,” you tell him when he checks up on you. with the slight encouragement of his hand drawing circles on your skin, you take off your shirt as well so he can explore more of your body. the two of you eventually strip yourselves bare while devouring each other with tongue and spit.

“squeeze if you want to stop.” your hand is intertwined with his, getting ready to signal for the sake of your safety. he penetrates you slowly, cock buried to the hilt inside, blabbering about how you’re taking him so well and swearing he’ll cum sooner than expected. the pitch of your moans is rising higher and higher. you hate how your sounds it seems by crashing your lips on his, but it tells him that he has done his job right.

“shit, baby. you’re absolutely perfect for me. how is this possible— agh,” iwaizumi hisses as he spills inside you. you’re now exhausted, sensitive from the caresses on your curves and kisses on your hands. this is what he would like to happen, however the next time he blinks, you’re lying beside him fully clothed.

“haji? you’re not saying anything.” you avert your gaze from his. you’re ashamed of literally pushing him away, believing that he’ll take offense judging from his silence. “i didn’t mean to do that. it happened so fast that i freaked out. can we start over and… start a little bit slower?”

“sure. let’s take things a little bit slower.” iwaizumi kisses your forehead to reassure you that you haven’t done anything wrong. somehow you’ve become bold, initiating the kiss and sneaking your hands under his shirt unconsciously. you retract from the sudden move, but he gestures to you to keep going. he’s so weak for you; he’ll do anything to make you happy.

[benchspkmnirlhub]

A Guide to Pokemon IRL

Hello! Pokemon IRL has been getting more and more popular over the year and a half I've been in the community, and I'm seeing lots of people being confused by it.

So I'm making this guide, to hopefully help people understand it better, and perhaps join us in this wacky community.

Part 1: The Basics

Essentially, Pokemon IRL is a RP community centered on one single premise: Blogging as if you were in the Pokemon world. It's a hybrid of askblogs, RP blogs, and general tumblr blogs.

There's very few rules to it, other than just "don't be a jerk". There's all kinds of Pokemon IRL blogs, from regular OC trainers, to canon characters, to characters who are Pokemon themselves, to even Fallers from non-Pokemon media, and more!

The main thing is that 98% of Pokemon IRL operates on the multiverse. Blogs can have conflicting canons, since the multiverse exists, and the blogs can be from different universes. This also means that multiple people can RP the same character. I've lost count of the amount of Kieran and Silver blogs.

Why is Pokemon-world tumblr multiversal? Who knows! But that's the one generally accepted canon thing across almost all Pokemon IRL blogs.

Part 2: Glossary

I know glossaries are usually at the ends of books, but I figure it's important that I define some important terms before I get to the rest of this guide.

Rotomblr - The generally accepted name for Pokemon-world tumblr. I personally prefer to use the name Tacklr instead, but that's just my opinion.

Sapient Pokemon - Pokemon that are sapient. Typically refers to Pokemon that run blogs. Some blogs don't allow interactions with them. Some blogs love interacting with them, though, such as all my blogs!

Eebydeeby - A human that has been turned into a Pokemon. "Eeby" is short for it. "Sleeby" means "slow eeby", or a human that has been or is in the process of slowly turning into a Pokemon.

Hybrid - This has two meanings. The first is someone who's part human and part Pokemon. The second is a Pokemon that's part one species, part another species.

Pelipper Mail - This is a multiversal system of mail, powered via Pelipper! You can have Pelippers send items to other blogs with this. Can be enabled or disabled per blog. Same goes with the next five terms.

Pelipper Unmail - Instead of giving, this is taking. This steals something from another blog via Pelipper.

Pelipper Malice - Essentially, this is sending something to another blog that you know will hurt them.

Musharna Mail - It's like Pelipper Mail, but with dreams! This can be used to send dreams to other blogs.

Musharna Malice - Just like Musharna Mail, but it's nightmares instead of dreams.

Magic Anons - Essentially, this allows anons to do whatever they'd like to the characters on your blog. Use caution when enabling this, though, as it's suspected that some people fetish mine with these.

High Stakes - Basically, this refers to anything that can majorly injure many characters, or otherwise have lots of bad stuff happen. Many blogs don't like interacting with this stuff, so it's best to tag it.

Drama Stakes - Like High Stakes, but less. This is when stuff is happening that could lead to in-universe ruined relationships. Best to tag this too.

Ultra Stakes - Like High Stakes, but more. This is when things lead to potential death of many characters. Definitely best to tag this as well.

Chosen - Sometimes someone is a legendary's favorite special little person, and they get powers from it! That's essentially what a Chosen is.

Faller - Someone, usually from a non-Pokemon media, who falls into the Pokemon world. Essentialyl a way of writing a non-Pokemon character in Pokemon IRL.

Self-Insert Faller - An OOC blogrunner falls into the Pokemon world. Can get very meta.

Muse Mixup Madness - At the start of every month, there's an event where some blogs temporarily change their core concept for a day or a few. It's best to tag these, and to give warnings beforehand.

Part 3: Setting up your Blog

Setting up a Pokemon IRL blog is a lot like setting up a regular tumblr blog, just in-character.

The main thing you'll need is a pinned post explaining the premise of the blog. These are usually in-character, with an OOC section at the bottom.

It's best to warn for possible triggers that might pop up on the blog, as well as explaining your boundaries (i.e. if you don't want Pelipper Mail).

Feel free to theme your blog too, changing the header and icon, adjusting the theme colors, maybe even have a custom theme!

Once you have that all set, you're ready to interact!

Part 4: Interacting

I made a full guide on how to interact here, if you want to check it out!

The main thing is, don't be afraid to interact. Even with big blogs. Everyone's happy to receive interactions! Worst that can happen is that your interaction is ignored.

So don't be scared! Jump in, and start interacting!

Part 5: General Advice from my Friends

I asked around for any additional advice people wanted to add, and here's what some people had to say:

"uhhh ooc communication is super important, especially if youre trying to do a plot with someone or smth along those lines" - @espers-n-espurrs

"Uhhh "Do it scared" Like. If you're nervous about doing something but you wanna do it, do it even though you're scared!!!!! Also like. Have fun. People can tell when you're having fun. Be silly. Do what you want forever. Also that big blogs 9/10 don't mind interactions with smaller ones. I think I count as one and like. I am just as scared as interacting with new people as the smaller blogs who wanna interact with me" @chaos-cousins

"interact with people" - @justalileepguy

"The absolute worst thing that can happen if you send someone an ask is that they delete it. People like getting interaction, even if it's from a blog you don't follow. If you're having trouble interacting, find something your two characters have in common and point it out" - @fated-furret

Part 6: Miscellaneous Stuff

If there's anything I'm missing, feel free to let me know, or add it in a reblog! I've been in this community for a long time, but even I don't know absolutely everything.

If you've read this far, thank you! I hope this guide helps in some way. Reblogging it is appreciated, but not necessary.

And if you're thinking of joining the Pokemon IRL community, then I'm excited to help welcome you!

[cybernaght]

The fandom echo chamber: fanon, microanalysis and conspiracy brain 

As someone who has been in fandom spaces, on and off, for 20 years, I find some fascinating trends popping up in the last decade that I thought to be fandom-specific but clearly aren’t. So, I would like to do a little examination of where those things come from, how they are engaged with, and what it says about the way we consume media. This is a think piece, of sorts, with my brain being the main source. As such, we will spend some time down the memory lane of a fandom-focused millennial.

This is largely brought about by Good Omens. But it’s also not really about Good Omens at all.

Part one. Fanon.

The way we see characters in any story is always skewed by our very selves. This is a neutral statement, and it does not have a value judgement. It’s simply unavoidable. We recognise aspects of them, love aspects of them, and choose aspects of them to highlight based entirely on our own vision of the universe. 

Recognition comes into this. There is a reason so many protagonists of romance novels have a “blank slate” problem. Even when they do not, we love characters who are like us or versions of us that we would like to be. And when we say “we”, I also mean, “me”. 

(I remember very clearly this realisation hit me after a whole season of Doctor Who with writing which I hated utterly when I questioned why I still clung so incredibly hard to Clara Oswald as my favourite companion. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Oh. Well. That would do it, wouldn’t it?)

Then, there is projection, and, again, this is a neutral statement. Projection exists, and it is completely normal and, dare I say it, valid way of engaging with — well, anything. Is the character queer? Trans? Neurodivergent? Are they in love? Do they like chocolate? Are they a cat person? Well, yes, if this is what the text says, but if the text does not say anything… You tell me. Please, do tell me. Because, in that moment of projection, they are yours. 

And then, there is fandom osmosis, and that is the most fascinating one of them all, the one that is not very easy to note while you are inside the echo chamber. It’s the way we collectively, consciously or not, make decisions on who or what the characters are, what their relationships are, and what happens to them.  

(Back when I was writing egregiously long Guardian recaps on this blog I actually asked if Shen Wei’s power being learning actually was stated anywhere in the canon of the show. Because I had no idea. I have read and reread dozen of fanfics where that is the case, and at some point through enough repetition, it became reality.)

We are all kind of making our own reality here, aren’t we? 

Back when things were happening in a much less centralised manner - in closed livejournal groups, and forums of all shapes and sizes - I don’t remember there being quite as much universally agreed upon fanon. Frankly, I don’t remember much of universally agreed upon anything. But now, everything is in one place: we have this, and we have AO3, and it’s wonderful, it really is so much easier to navigate, but it’s also one gigantic reality-shifting echo chamber, with blogs, reblogs, trends, and rituals. 

Accessibility plays its part, too. If you were, say, in Life on Mars (UK) fandom between seasons, and you wanted to post your speculation fic, you had to have had an account, and then find and gain access to one of the bigger groups (lifein1973 was my poison, but ymmv), and then, if you feel brave you may post it, but also, you may want to do so from your alt account if you wanted to keep yours separate, and then you would have to go through the whole process again. And I’m not saying that fan creations then were somehow inherently better for it than fan creations now (although Life on Mars Hiatus Era is perhaps a bad example - because some of the Speculation Fic there was breathtaking), but there is something to say about the ease of access that made the fandoms go through a big bang of sorts.

(I mean, come on, I can just come here and post this - and I am certain people will read it, and this blog is a pandemic cope baby about Chinese television for goodness sake.)

The canon transformations that happen in the fandom echo chamber truly are fascinating to witness as someone who is more or less a fandom butterfly. I get into something, float around for a bit, then get into something else and move on. I might come back eventually when the need arises, but I don’t sustain a hiatus mind-state. This means that when I float away and return, I find some very intriguing stuff.

Let’s actually look at Good Omens here. Season two aired, and I found it spectacular in its cosy and anguished way; deliberately and intelligently fanfic-y in its plot building; simple but subversive, and so very tender. (I will have to circle back to this eventually, because, truly, I love how deliberately it takes the tropes and shatters them - it’s glorious). And, to me - a person who read the book, watched the first season, hung around AO3 for a few weeks and moved on - absolutely on-point in terms of characterisation. 

So imagine my surprise when the fandom disagreed so vehemently that there are actual multi-tiered theories on how characters were not in possession of their senses. Nothing there, in my mind, ever contradicted any of the stated text, as it stood. This remained a strange little mystery until I did what I always do when I flutter close to an ongoing fandom.

I loaded AO3 and sorted the existing fic by popularity. And there it was, all there: the actual earth-shattering mutual devotion of the angel and the demon; willingness to Fall; openness and long heart-aching confession speeches. There was all of the fanon surrounding Aziraphale and Crowley, which, to me, read as out of character, and to one for whom they became the reality over the last four years, read as truth. 

Again, only neutral statements here. This is not a bad thing, and neither this is a good thing, this is just something that happens, after a while, especially when there are years for the fandom-born ideas to bounce around and stew. I can’t help but think that so much of what we see as real in spaces such as this one is a chimaera of the actual source and all the collective fan additions which had time and space to grow, change, develop, and inspire, reverberating over and over again, until the echoes fill the entirety of the space. 

Eventually, this chimaera becomes a reality. 

Part two. Microanalysis 

Here are my two suppositions on the matter:

1. Some writers really love breadcrumb storytelling. 

Russel T Davies, for instance, on his run of Doctor Who (and, if you are reading it much later - I do mean the original one), loved that technique for his seasonal arcs. What is a Bad Wolf? Who is Harold Saxon? Well, you can watch very very carefully, make a theory, and see it proven right or wrong by the end of the season. 

Naturally, mystery box writers are all about breadcrumb storytelling: your Losts and your Westworlds are all about giving you snippets to get your brain firing, almost challenging you to figure things out just ahead of the reveal. 

2. We, as humans, love breadcrumbs.

And why wouldn’t we? Breadcrumbs are delicious. They are, however, a seasoning, or a coating. They are not the meal. 

Too much metaphor?

Let’s unpack it and start from the beginning.

Pattern recognition colours every aspect of our lives, and it colours the way we view art to a great extent. I think we truly underestimate how much it’s influenced by our lived experiences.

If you are, broadly speaking, living somewhere in Western/North-Western Europe in the 14th century, and you see a painting in which there is a very very large figure surrounded by some smaller figures and holding really tiny figures, you may know absolutely nothing about who those figures are, but you know that the big figure is the Important One, and the small ones are Less Important Ones, and the tiny ones are In Their Care. You know where your reverence would lie, looking at this picture. And, I imagine, as someone living in the 14th century, you may be inspired to a sense of awe looking at this composition, because in the world you live in, this is how art works. 

If you, on the other hand, watch a piece of recorded media and see the eyes of two characters meet as the violins swell, you know what you are being told at that moment. You don’t have to have a film degree to feel a sort of way when you see a green-tinged pallet used, when cross-cuts use juxtaposing images, or notice where your focus is pulled in any given shot. This stuff - this recognition of patterns - has been trained into us by the simple fact that we live in this time, on this planet, and we have been doing so long enough to have engaged recorded media for a period of time. 

As humans, we notice things. Our brains flare up when they see something they recognise, and then we seek to find other similar details and form a bigger picture. This often happens unconsciously, but sometimes it does not. Sometimes we do it on purpose: finding breadcrumbs in stories is a little bit like solving a mystery. It allows us to stretch that brain muscle that puts two and two together. It makes us feel clever. 

So yes, we love breadcrumbs, and, frankly, quite a lot of storytelling takes advantage of this. It’s very useful for foreshadowing, creating thematic coherence, or introducing narrative parallels and complexity. It’s useful for nudging the viewer into one or the other emotional direction, or to cue them into what will happen in the next moment, or what exactly is the one important detail they should pay attention to.

Because this is something media does intentionally, and something we pick up both consciously and not, it is very hard to know when to stop. We don't really ever know when all of the breadcrumbs have been collected. It becomes very easy to get carried away. There is a very specific kind of pleasure in digging into content frame by frame, soundbite by soundbite, chasing that pleasure of finding. 

But it is almost never breadcrumbs all the way down. They are techniques to help us focus on the main event: the story. I truly believe those who make media want it to reach the widest possible audience, and that includes all of us who like to watch every single thing ever created with our Media Analysis Goggles on and those who are just here to enjoy the twists and turns of the story at the pace offered to them. And I think, sometimes in our chase to collect and understand every little clue we forget that media is not made to just cater for us.

One can call it missing a forest for the trees. But I would hate to mix my metaphors, so let’s call it missing a schnitzel for the breadcrumbs. 

Part three. The Conspiracy Brain. 

If you are there with me, in the midst of the excited frenzy, chasing after all those delicious breadcrumbs, then patterns can grow, merge together, and become all-encompassing theories. Let’s call them conspiracy theories, even though this is not what they truly are.

So, why do we believe in conspiracy theories?

One, Because We Have Been Lied To. 

All conspiracies start with distrust.

If you are in fandom spaces - especially if you are in fandom spaces which revolve around a queer fictional couple - especially-especially if you have been in such spaces for a period of time, you have most certainly been lied to at one point or another. 

We don’t even have to talk about Sherlock - and let’s not do that - but do you remember Merlin? Because I remember Merlin. Specifically, I remember the publicity surrounding the first season, with its weaponised usage of “bromance” and assertions that this whole thing is a love story of sorts, and then the daunting realisation that this was all a stunt, deliberately orchestrated to gather viewership. 

And, because we were lied to in such a deliberate manner for such an extensive period of time, I genuinely believe that it forever altered our pattern recognition habits, because what was this if not encouragement to read into things? Now we are trained to read between the lines or see little cries for help where they might not be. Because we were told, over and over again, that we should.

(Yes, I think we are all existing in these spaces coloured by the trauma of queer-bating. I am, however, looking forward to a world where I can unlearn all of that.)

Two, Cognitive Dissonance.

The chain reaction works a bit like this: the world is wrong - it can’t possibly be wrong by coincidence - this must be on purpose - someone is responsible for it.

Being Lied To is a preamble, but cognitive dissonance is where it all originates. In so many cross-fandom theories I have noticed a four-step process:

A) this is not good

B) this author could not have made a mistake 

C) this must be done on purpose

D) here is why 

(Funny thing is, I have been on the receiving end of the small conspiracy spiral, and it is a very interesting experience. Not relevant to this conversation is the fact that a lot of my job revolves around storytelling. What is relevant is that my hobbies also revolve around storytelling. And one of them is DnD. Now, imagine my genuine shock when one of the players I am currently writing a campaign for noticed a small detail that did not make a logical sense within the complexity of the world, and latched on to it as something clearly indicating some kind of a secret subplot. Their thinking process also went a bit like this: this detail is not a good piece of writing — this DM knows how to tell stories well — this is obviously there on purpose. It was not there on purpose. I created a clumsy shorthand. I erred, in that pesky manner humans tend to. And, seeing this entire thought process recited to me directly in the moment, I felt somewhere between flattered and mortified.)

This whole line of thinking, I think, exists on a knife’s edge between veneration and brutal criticism, relentlessly dissecting everything “wrong”, with a reverent “but this is deliberate” attached to it like a vice, because it is preferable to a simple conclusion that the author let you down, in one way or another. 

Three, Intentionality 

I believe that there is no right or wrong way of engaging with stories, regardless of their medium, and assuming no one gets hurt in the process. While in a strictly academic way, there is a “correct” way of reading (and reading into) media, we here are largely not academics but consumers; consumption is subjective.

However, this all changes when intentionality is ascribed. 

The one I find particularly fascinating is the intentionality of “making it bad on purpose” because, as open-minded as I intend to always be, this just does not happen.

It certainly does not happen in long-form media. Even in the bread-crumb mystery box-type long-form media. 

When television programs underdeliver, they also underperform, and then they get cancelled.

If all the elements of Westworld Season 4 that did not sit together in a completely satisfactory way were written deliberately as some sort of deconstruction for the final season to explore, then it failed because that final season will now never come.

(There will likely never be a Secret Fourth Episode.)

And look, I am not here to refute your theories. Creativity is fun, and theorising is fantastic. 

But, perhaps, when the line of thought ventures into the “bad on purpose” territory, it could be recognised for what it is: disappointment and optimism, attempting to coexist in a single space. And I relate to that, I do, and I am sorry that there is even a need for this line of thinking. It’s always so incredibly disappointing that a creator you believed to be devoid of flaws makes something that does not hit in the way you hoped it would. It’s pretty heartbreaking. 

Unfortunately, people make mistakes. We are all fallible that way. 

Four, Wildfire.

Then, when the crumbs are found, a theory is crafted, and intentionality is ascribed, all that needs to happen is for it to catch on. And hey, what better place for it than this massive hollow funnel that we exist in, where thoughts, ideas and interpretations reverberate so much they become inextricable from the source material in collective consciousness. 

Conspiracy theories create alternate realities, very much like we all do here. 

So where are we now?

I am not here to tell you what is right and what is wrong; what is true, and what is not. We are all entitled to engage with anything we wish, in whichever way we wish to do it. This is not it, at all. 

All I am saying is… listen.

Do you hear that echo? 

I do. 

[gloomwitchwrites]

hi!!! i literally started reading your blog and FR YOU HAVE TALENT. Got me giggling and kicking my feet cus of that girl dad!tf141 fics.

I was reading one of the links you put in for prompt ideas and I read that one six words sentence from link five: "I can't risk losing you again." hello?? potential angst to fluff?? I couldn't get it off my head and i was wondering if you could write something from it :>

Thank you so much! That's so sweet of you! I'm so glad you enjoyed reading the Just Like Dad stories. I had a lot of fun writing them.

"I can't risk losing you again" is such an open-ended prompt. There is a lot you can do with that. I hope my humble offering is enough. I certainly went more angst than fluff on this one, but I really do love sad things with twinges of hope thrown in.

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, mild blood, non-graphic mentions of violence, angst, fluff, pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications

Simon "Ghost" Riley: An enemy of Simon's harms you, forcing Simon to make a tough decision. (wc: 315) Kyle "Gaz" Garrick: Kyle decides there is only one way to keep you close. (wc: 323) John Price: Price worries after you tell him you're pregnant when the first pregnancy had complications. (wc: 329) John "Soap" MacTavish: Johnny learns that falling in love with a teammate can only lead to sorrow. (wc: 542)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Busted door. Shattered glass. Overturned table.

The lights aren’t working and rain enters through the open patio door. You are safe and whole and far from this. But is it enough? Will Simon be able to keep you safe?

What was once doubt is now cold truth.

It’s not your trashed home but the state Simon found you in. It was your heavy-lidded eyes and bruised face. It was the pools of red that Simon didn’t know belonged to you, the dead man facedown in the carpet, or both. It was your smile of relief when you realized it was Simon drawing you into his arms.

Simon knows the man who did this—no. He knows who fucking ordered it.

And when he finds Makarov, he’ll show that fucker just how trigger-hungry he can be. The lead will burst and fuse to his lungs, and Simon will bathe in the aftermath.

All that’s left is your safety. If Simon knew that his career would lead to this, he would have taken steps to protect you years ago. You are always his one bright spot, that candle in the dark that is his life.

With you, he became more than his trauma. More than his guilt. More than his past. With you, he found peace. He found happiness. You are the sugary candy that sticks in the teeth but is too addictive to give up.

Departing is agony. The return is his reward and his longing.

You are everything.

And that is why he let you go.

Why he said, “I can’t risk losing you again.”

He put his head in your lap, his fingers digging into the sides of your thighs and failed to push down the tears.

Laswell will take you far away. She will keep you somewhere safe.

Makarov won’t find you.

And maybe—perhaps in the future—Simon can return to you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is a nervous wreck.

The tiny box sits heavy in his pocket, burning an invisible hole. His plan is not the most romantic, but the two of you aren’t the type to go big. It’s all subtle, and Kyle only wants this moment to include the two of you.

This is his last chance.

Kyle’s final opportunity.

In this relationship, Kyle has kept you second. Not on purpose but out of habit. Work is his lifeblood. It drives him, and every successful mission is a point of pride. But in keeping up with that, Kyle left you behind.

His absences lengthened, and over time, he noticed you were pulling away, closing off. But that isn’t your fault. Kyle created the perfect brew for you to drink. These are the consequences of his actions, and he needs to make it right.

There was a time when Kyle nearly did lose you. When he came home and thought you had packed up and left without saying a word. That broke him. Made him realize just how distant he’d become.

Change is difficult.

But Kyle did it. Slowly.

Your smile returned, and when he comes home, your greetings are full of passion.

I can’t risk losing you again.

Kyle takes a deep breath as the deadbolt on the front door disengages. There is a slight tremble in his hands. Kyle is never nervous. Never. But fuck—taking this next step is driving him up the goddamn wall.

He pushes off from the couch, turning just as the front door swings open.

You step inside, face turned away as you go to shut the door. When you finally glance into the room, all the nervousness inside Kyle’s chest evaporates.

Your smile is so sweet, and you don’t hesitate. Dropping your bag, you rush toward him, and Kyle cannot help but meet you halfway.

He’s making the right choice in asking you to stay with him forever.

John Price

“You’re not happy.”

John is happy. He is. But old worries bubble up, seeping into the joy. It’s tainting everything, and that is clear by how your smile starts to fade.

“I am happy,” he says, but his mouth is a hard line. John knows he’s frowning.

You shake your head, one hand resting over your stomach. “Don’t lie, John.”

This is supposed to be a happy moment. He should sweep you up in his arms. He should kiss you until you’re begging for air. But all John can think about are all the doctor appointments he attended with you, and the grimness of what might not happen.

From that came a daughter. John loves her. Adores her. But bringing her into the world nearly killed you. He grappled with that stress while being as present as possible with you. Growing your family has always been a dream, and John doesn’t fault you for a second. There is no family without you.

John grasps the sides of your face and moves into your space. Your own hands close over his, keeping him from retreat.

“I am happy,” he reiterates. “But we both know what it took to bring our daughter into the world.” John shakes his head absently and breathes deep. “Don’t do this for me.”

“John—”

“I can’t risk losing you again.”

This time, your smile returns. There is a hint of sadness lingering behind it, as if you too are reflecting on all that happened.

“Everything will be fine.” You release his hand and gently cup his cheek.

John kisses your forehead, his thumb absently tracing your jaw. “Are you sure?”

The decision is ultimately yours, and John will respect whatever you decide.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he nods.

John pulls you in, lips finding yours. When you melt into him, accepting all that he’s giving, a wave of peace settles over him.

This is right.

And whatever happens, the two of you will face it together.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny drips water all over the floor. He is soaked through. Shivering. But he could give a fuck.

“Where is she?”

“Soap—”

“Where the fuck is she, Price?”

Captain Price sighs heavily and crosses his arms. “She needs rest.”

Johnny swallows down his retort. He’s not upset with Price, and shit like this happens all the time, but he needs to know if you’re okay.

You took a fucking bad fall, and Johnny couldn’t stop to run after you. The mission comes first, and it wasn’t his job. Other people stepped in and whisked you away. But from the height you plummeted from, Johnny feared the worst.

Still does to an extent.

If you were dead, Price wouldn’t hide that from him. But he might hide how bad you’re injured as a way to protect him. Price has always been fatherly in that regard. Right now, it’s driving Johnny fucking nuts.

“Captain. Please,” Johnny clenches his fists and then releases them. “Let me see her.”

Price’s frown smooths a bit and the middle of his brow wrinkles with concern. “For a few minutes. All I can spare.”

Johnny has to keep from rushing to the hospital room doorway when the words leave Price’s mouth. He has Johnny walk with him to your door. Thunder rumbles in the distance and rain steadily hits the large window at the far end of the hospital room.

Just as Johnny takes a step inside, Price’s hand is on his shoulder.

“She’ll make it,” is all he says before he shuts the door.

Johnny lingers right inside. All the lights are off except a small lamp in the corner. Your eyes are closed, and your face is peaceful. There is bruising. A few bandages. The machines next to the bed beep softly.

He was so eager—so determined to get to you. Now, Johnny deflates.

On quiet feet, he grabs a chair and brings it over to your bedside. You don’t stir. Simply sleep. Johnny eases down into the chair and leans forward, his forearms crossed as he rests them on the side of the hospital bed.

Still, you don’t move. And Johnny doesn’t dare wake you.

Rest is important, and all he wants is for you to recover.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “That I didn’t come sooner.” The rain picks up and Johnny smooths back his wet hair. “But I can’t keep doing this. Every time you’re hurt I—” He sighs heavily and rests his forehead on his crossed arms.

“I can’t risk losing you again,” he murmurs into the bedding.

It’s become too much. You’re not supposed to fuck your coworkers and you shouldn’t fall in love with them either. But Johnny did both. With you. And he cannot take that back.

He’d give anything if you’d set this all aside.

Your fingers brushing against his scalp startle him. Johnny lifts his head, only to find you watching him. There is a soft smile on your lips, and his instinct is to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips, kissing each knuckle and then your palm.

The moment your mouth opens to speak, there is knock at the door. Johnny frowns and looks up, finding Price in the doorway.

“Time’s up.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife

@miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff

@berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf

@lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien

@sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d

@heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria

@lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic

@suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior

[fallow-hollow]

loved your kabru fic!! would you be willing to write a 5+1 chilchuck/reader fic? along the lines of “5 times they nearly kissed, and 1 time post-canon where they actually did”?

count to six

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! pining, almost kisses, arguments but they make up, extremely minor manga spoilers, chilchuck being bad with feelings, pre-relationship and post-relationship, most of these take place pre-canon

…word count! 3697

…notes! i think receiving a chilchuck request is just a rite of passage for a dunmeshi blog at this point. i hope the old man likers are pleased by this one!

one

You’d always admired Chilchuck, really. And not just in a professional sense, mind you.

Of course you respected his skills and his professionalism, but after working with him for some time, you could clearly see that there was so much more about him that continued to catch your eye. Those little slips in his usual attitude were what fascinated you, keeping you waiting for the next snippet of his personality you could get a glimpse of.

As a man of great pride in his profession, accepting help or being “coddled” weren’t exactly on Chilchuck’s to-do list. If he was interrupted or goodness forbid challenged while he was trying to do his job, he’d become even crabbier than those literal treasure crabs monsters he hated so much. Nonetheless, you cared for him and your party, so you offered to lend a hand where you felt it was appropriate.

Maybe it was just you, but the half-foot almost seemed more receptive of your intervention than he usually was with others. Perhaps it was because you did your best to be unobtrusive but firm in your offers, cementing yourself not as someone looking down on him, but a teammate who understood the importance of cooperation.

While your professional relationship was an enjoyable one, it was nice to see the man let loose every now and again. Around and after mealtimes he’d become more talkative, especially if he’d had some booze to wash down his helping of whatever was available that night. This particular evening, you’d had a particularly nice stir fry with the grains you’d bought and even a bit of salt-cured meat and some dried legumes that kept extremely well. Even if your meals were sometimes a hodgepodge of whatever would be cheap or long-lasting, it filled you up, and you were grateful for that.

The rest of the party members had just stood up to go and wash their dishes and utensils, and you were about to rise as well before stealing a quick glance at the half-foot next to you and immediately blurting out,

“Oh, you’ve got something.”

Chilchuck could only raise one of his eyebrows, not quite understanding what you meant from your wording. “Something?” he parroted.

“On your face,” you would quickly clarify, leading to spending several seconds watching him try to get it, making both amusement and slight frustration bubble up within you.

In fact, you were so concentrated on wiping off the smeared food with your sleeve that you didn’t even notice the sound of his squeak — yes, his squeak — when you leaned forward to get a closer look. In hindsight, perhaps you’d miscalculated the amount of space between you, because your faces were practically touching, despite you not realizing it at the time. In your concentration, your companion even noticed the tip of your tongue sticking out of your mouth in concentration. It wasn’t something he’d intended to fixate on, but in the moment it seemed like it was all he could do while he waited for you to be done. After all, it moved suddenly, you two might accidentally…..

“Alright, got it.” You pulled away so quickly that he hardly had time to comprehend the motion before your grinning face was already visible, albeit more distant now. Only after the fact would you realize that you had most certainly invaded his personal space without asking, though it felt too late to really apologize for it properly without making things awkward.

What both you and him didn’t notice, however, was the way his ears tinged pink at the proximity between the two of you.

two

With the embarrassment of the previous incident still fresh in your mind, the second offense certainly didn’t fly over your head this time.

Though, with all fairness, it wasn’t like it was something that could be helped. Rather than simple ignorance of personal space, this was a total accident.

In order to progress into the deeper floors of the dungeon, it was only natural that any party would eventually have to deal with some traps getting in their way. Your party in particular was currently being led by your expert, that being Chilchuck, through a plain, narrow hallway that was purportedly rigged with various traps and projectiles.

Both the walls and floor were made of what appeared to be a completely uniform stone construction, but with his keen senses and knowledge of dungeons, Chilchuck was able to deduce a pattern of which stones were safe to step on, the rest being triggers for various dangerous mechanisms.

Everyone was following behind Chilchuck in pretty much single file. He would traverse the safe path, then you would copy his steps, so on and so forth down the line. Usually, this method worked perfectly for these sorts of puzzles, as long as nobody moved too early or had a misstep. Unfortunately for you in particular, a misstep is exactly what you made.

When trying to land gracefully on the ball of your foot, the weight shifted, forcing you to roll onto your ankle with a pained sound. Instinctually, you tried to put your weight back into your other foot and staggered, hardly even comprehending the way you felt the ground beneath you sink ever so slightly.

All you really registered at first was the sound of somebody shouting, not to mention the feeling of your body being tugged forward with a roughness that stemmed not from malice, but from desperation. Someone was tugging on your shirt, so much so that you immediately fell onto your knees and proceeded to slide across the floor for a short distance as well. If you didn’t have something covering your knees, you’re sure that would have hurt like hell.

The pain was just on the cusp of excruciating, making you want to reach down and hold your injured foot, but not before you noticed the warmth of a body directly in front of you, close enough to wrap both arms around.

Chilchuck still had a grasp on your shirt, breathing heavily after what was most certainly a terrifying moment for him. It’s strange, really — he always insisted that he was only here to guide you, not bail you out, but in moments like these, the sight of a party member in harm’s way always seemed to seep through his stoic exterior and inflict him with sheer panic.

You almost wanted to smile at the thought, finding it almost soothing, but you figured it would seem pretty odd considering you’d freshly injured yourself and you were also far too close to your coworker for comfort.

A free hand laid itself on top of Chilchuck’s, still shaky. The man subsequently withdrew his hand, shocked at the unprompted touch despite literally having grabbed you moments before. That was…. different, he attempted to reason to himself.

Some voices sounded from behind the both of you after you withdrew from one another to catch your breath.

“Are you alright?” came a soft voice that you instantly recognized as Falin. “If I could, I’d heal you right now, but I really can’t reach you with these trapped tiles all around. I hope it’s okay that we have to wait until we clear the traps.”

“Not like we have much of a choice, so I’m fine.” You listened to your own voice bounce off the walls, noting how wary you sounded. Outside of your field of vision, the half-foot also winced. You weren’t in great shape, sure, but it really could have been worse…. he thought that maybe telling himself that would make him feel less guilty about the state you were in, but for some strange reason, the feeling just wouldn’t go down. Almost like an especially bitter tasting liquor.

Toshiro — or Shuro, as most of the party tended to call him — was the next in line behind you, and luckily well equipped to carry you the rest of the way. It was a good thing, some might even say a stroke of luck that you’d been positioned in front of him instead of, say, Marcille, but Chilchuck couldn’t help but follow you with his eyes. Seeing you be carried by the man somehow only made him feel more on edge, instead of at ease like he naturally should have. That bitter taste again…

Despite your injury, you felt surprisingly alert, and your eyes continued to dart around, assessing your surroundings now that you didn’t have to focus so intensely on the floor. You saw an arrow lodged into a gap between two of the stones in the wall, probably freshly fired when you triggered that trap. If you hadn’t been pulled away in time, you might have gotten seriously injured or even died.

By the time your gaze landed back on Chilchuck, he was already turning around, but you could’ve sworn that he was looking at you in the split second before he turned his back on you.

The thought that maybe you captivate him even half as much as he captivates you lets you close your eyes with a smile on your face.

three

Ever since that incident in the hallway, you’d started to suspect that Chilchuck was avoiding you.

It wasn’t anything offensive or egregious, but you could sense him becoming even more withdrawn than usual. You two weren’t exactly the chummiest of people with one another in the first place, but lately he’d been acknowledging you less and less, not responding to smart remarks or offers to help him like he usually did.

You knew that he was still noticing you, judging by the slight turn of his head towards the sound of your voice and the occasional clenching of his jaw. Clearly, something was on his mind that he didn’t feel like sharing. Fairly typical, though you couldn’t help but miss that thin sliver of himself he let others see. With you, he was open just enough to at least let you get your foot in the door, and you didn’t want to lose that.

So, determined to get to the bottom of your companion’s heightened defensiveness, you were able to catch him alone when he’d volunteered to be on night watch. With everyone else asleep, you’d finally be able to talk to him without the concern of being overheard.

The half-foot immediately noticed your presence, you’re sure of that. Of course, you were still quiet as to not wake anyone up, it was more so that no matter how quiet you could be, absolutely nothing would slip past his keen senses. Detecting threats and things of note in the dungeon was his job, after all.

No time was wasted in cutting to the chase, certainly.

“Are you avoiding me?”

You couldn’t catch a glimpse of Chilchuck’s face from where you stood, but the way he slowly shifted from one foot to another suggested he was deliberating his response. There was also also a light tapping sound that rang through the space between you, and after a minute of darting your eyes around you realized that he had his arms crossed and was tapping his index finger against his forearm.

The thing you couldn’t notice, of course, was the way his eyes were blown wide with the fear of a man who had absolutely no idea what to say. It’s not like he was ever any good at talking about these things. That’s why he thought it better to just avoid the issue altogether!

Clearly, he should’ve known better. You had other plans for him, just like you always do. Most of those plans usually ended up making him somehow feel like a total fool, even if he was just trying to keep it professional. So why? Why did he respond in earnest instead of shooing you away?

“It’s just sort of a habit, I guess. I try to avoid forming personal biases, especially ones based around personal relationships.” Once those words were finally pushed up and out of his throat, the man at least felt brave enough go turn around and face you, scratching the back of his neck now. “It’s pretty much the most common cause of issues within and between parties, so it’s something I’ve come to be wary of over the years.”

His words caused something to click in your head, and you couldn’t help but grin at him despite the circumstances.

“Are you essentially saying I’m your favorite?”

Perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say in response, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it, what with how the man’s face scrunched up in both embarrassment and frustration. Maybe it was just an effect of the dim lighting, but he seemed a bit red as well.

“Now’s not the time to act smug, you know that’s not my point.” The hand that was previously behind his neck shifted to point at you accusingly, but it didn’t quite feel sincere. There was something about the way it wavered in midair that made you feel certain that he wasn’t truly angry. “I’m just saying that I prefer to regulate the group environment than just go around making merry without a second thought!”

Dark pupils followed your form, moving up to stand next to him now. “I understand what you mean, but there is a lot of value in making merry, you know? Or even moments like this, for example.”

Chilchuck felt so confused at those words that he dropped his irritated expression entirely. What could possibly be valuable about something so frustrating as his own biases? It’s not like his feelings had any tangible value like a gold coin or a precious jewel. Love was nice, sure, but that alone couldn’t put food on the table.

Sensing his confusion, you could only continue. “Maybe you only view it from a professional lens, but that doesn’t mean it can’t make sense from that standpoint, you know? Your coworkers like to know you. Playing favorites really isn’t an issue when you’re not out boss or anything, I’d think. You’re our equal. And I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but it’s hard to confidently stand on equal ground with somebody who’s so closed off. Makes it hard to trust.”

Trust?

Wasn’t trust in his skills enough? He was already an extremely skilled individual, what reason would most people have…. not to trust him….

Ah.

It felt so shameful to just look at the ground as if he was being scolded. What else could he do, though? It felt like the mechanism of a trap with a tentacle wedged in the crevices, keeping it from moving altogether. Your words were that obstruction, stopping the inner workings of his mind in its tracks.

“Could you look at me, Chilchuck?”

Total bewilderment did nothing to prevent the half-food from turning to meet your face, level with his own. One of your hands hovered over his cheek, never quite touching. In a similar fashion, his fingers ghosted over your wrist.

“Even just taking a moment to look at someone, take in each other’s presence…. it’s a start. Not open, but not closed, either. You can just leave that door open a crack. It shows people that you trust them with not only your time, but yourself.”

His eyes were utterly transfixed on the movements of your lips.

You were right there, you were so close. A perfect chance served on a silver platter. Even so…

“…Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” The moment Chilchuck’s hand departed from your wrist, you withdrew your own hand, backing off into the distance the two of you previously had. He turned to stand shoulder to shoulder with you now, not quite facing you, but not quite facing away, either. By no means did the man want to shut you out, but he couldn’t bring himself to open up just yet.

The brief silence was interrupted by a quick remark. “You better mean that, because I’m not opposed to cornering you like this again.”

Chilchuck snorted at your words. “Fine, fine, I heard you. Never let me catch a break, do you?”

No, not just yet.

four

It had hardly been two days since your talk, and the man was already admiring you while you slept like some kind of freak.

Lord, what were you doing to him?

He just couldn’t sleep, that’s what he said to himself as his eyes remained fixed on your face. In hindsight, he almost regrets letting you put your sleeping bag next to his. If you hadn’t, he wouldn’t have such an easy way to stare at you instead of sleeping like he was supposed to.

In the end, though, he supposed it was his fault. He had a harder time saying no to you, and he hated it.

More than that, he hated how vulnerable you were in this moment. So close to him, yet so at ease. Did you really trust him like you talked about? In truth, Chilchuck himself wasn’t sure if you should. Did you really know just how depraved and selfish he actually was?

I mean, if he really wanted to, he could do something horrible and you wouldn’t even know. Take advantage of this state, and do whatever he wanted.

He bet he could even get close enough to…

The half-foot turned over.

Not tonight.

five

Just after the party lost Falin, as well as Toshiro and Namari leaving as a result, Chilchuck asked to talk with you.

“You shouldn’t go looking for her. Especially not with us.”

You weren’t sure whether you were angry or just disappointed. Did he really not understand?

“I’ve already made up my mind, Chilchuck. You already know how I feel.” This response only seemed to further provoke your companion. With nobody else around to hear, he had no problem raising his voice at you.

“Oh, I know perfectly well!” When he pointed at you, his hand didn’t waver, trained perfectly on your form. “I know that you’re absolutely insane if you think this is in any way a good idea.”

Frustration started to overtake your face, and in turn you shouted back, “I don’t know why you always feel like caring about others and being insane is the same thing! It isn’t!”

“Don’t assume how I feel!” As you both shouted back and forth, you both slowly inched closer to one another, until eventually you were standing toe to toe. The pressure eventually got so intense that you could only collapse to your knees and plead,

“Then just tell me. Tell me, please. All I want is to know.”

Well, that was a quick way to make him feel like the biggest asshole on earth. You on your knees, asking him so simply for something that couldn’t be bought or sold. Asking for him.

“I…”

I can’t, he wanted to say. He tried to force out the words, but he nearly choked, as if he was about to cry. Holding back that reaction, he tried his best to do what he knew you needed.

…He leveled with you and put a hand on your shoulder. It really was so hard to say no to you.

“Not yet, okay? I promise I will once this is all over, just… not yet. Wait for me, will you at least do that much?”

After a few moments of catching your own breath, you were able to look at his face again, your own now being blank and receptive. “Outside of the dungeon, you mean?”

He nodded. Your expression shifted to become more unsure, but only slightly.

“And how do I know you’ll come back?”

Perhaps just to give you a taste of your own medicine, Chilchuck grinned softly, deciding to throw your own words back in your face like you’d done to him.

“I thought you knew that you were always my favorite.”

All that and more, really. One day, he’d be able to tell you all about it.

six - after the dungeon

You’d often catch your lover slumped over at the counter of the shop after it closed. One of your favorite things to do was come up behind him and put your hands on his shoulders. Sometimes he’d be too lost in his thoughts to notice you and be startled by your sudden appearance. Tonight, however, he merely sighed and relaxed into your touch.

“Hard day today?” When he groaned in response, you had to suppress a giggle. That man really could be such a drama queen sometimes.

“How could you tell?” His question, unlike yours, was laced with sarcasm. Eventually, he lifted up his head and twisted his torso to look at you. “Had a fair amount of house calls today. Kahka Brud is a nice place to live and all, but I’d rather not be running around it at my age.”

“Yes, yes, you poor thing.”

“Hey!” His exclamation in conjunction with his pout sent you into a fit of hushed laughter.

Wiping a tear from your eye, you continued, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just teasing. One of these days you really ought to hire someone else to split the workload. When Mei’s in the area, we can certainly ask you about it.”

Chilchuck acknowledged your advice with a hum, but didn’t respond, instead choosing to fully turn around and put his hands on your sides.

“Mhm, I’ll get to that later.” His voice slurred from tiredness. “Right now, I just missed you.”

Your lover’s blunt declarations of missing you never failed to make you feel warm and fuzzy inside. In fact, you were about to return the sentiment in kind, but didn’t get the chance before the half-foot lurched his body forward to close the space between you.

His mouth was lax against yours, and his tongue lazily poked through the gap, not stretching the inside of your mouth, but merely resting as if it belonged there. It was a lazy kiss, but one full of warmth and a true sense of… home, really.

No mind was paid to the string of saliva left by him as you withdrew, all you could say being a quiet “I missed you too.”

After all, your faces didn’t stay apart for too long after that.

[i-hate-peas]

The Old Guard Fic Recs

So I've been a long time lurker within the fandom without ever getting particularly involved, but I wanted to show some appreciation for some of the super talented people who go here, because I have read a lot of incredible TOG fic.

Most (probably all) of these authors have loads of other amazing fics, but I've tried to just chose one from each, to keep the list a vaguely reasonable length. Although then I cheated and did some honourable mentions.

** just a note to say I started this list year (s) ago and forgot about it until literally today when I saw fic recs going round. Any of these fics I haven’t put a description for it’s because I didn’t do it at the time, and if I go back to reread them all this would never be posted, not through any lack of affection or enjoyment **

If any writers want tagging/ untagging etc please let me know! (i knew/ could find some blogs more easily than others lol)

Within Canon

Old Olives by aeli_kindara

Garden of Gethsemane mention = instant tears

Death in Her Hands by superblackmarket

Nile's growing relationship with Joe and Nicky. All of their fics are so beautifully written, but I especially love Nile's relationship with the boys and her facing her own immortality.

Honourable mention: Station to Station

Between the Hour and the Age by hauntedjaeger (@hauntedfalcon)

Andy! Nile!

Ouroboros by CypressSunn (@cypresssunns)

Set after the film, literally just read it.

compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience by Jack_R

A pair of early days Joe Nicky fics that reminds me of 'my wife is a bitch and i love her so much'

let's give them something to talk about by lacecat

When The Cherries White With Blossoms, Be Ready & Be Brave by chapstickaddict

Unearthed by merle_p

I think this is one of the most kudosed fics in the AO3 tag, but it deserves the hype!

Kidnapping for Dummies by Amiril

Similar to above, already very popular, but great and very funny!

The Last Man on Earth by Survivah (@optimismology)

I will admit I don't normally go for Booker/Nile, but this fic sold it to me. Looking at them and their developing relationship as the newer immortals.

Canon Divergent

Retrograde by Pinkninja

I mean this fic is the Big Bitch of the fandom for me, if you haven't already read this, where have you been? But also if you haven't already read this I am so jealous, read it and take your time with it and bawl your eyes out over it and appreciate the joy of reading it for the first time. The level of detail and planning in this fic is indescribable. It follows Nicky trapped in a Time Travellers Wife style life where he jumps back and forth throughout his own timeline, whilst Joe lives his life in chronological order. Exquisitely written.

If Never Again, If Every Day by gallifreyburning and takiki16 (@gallifreyburning, @takiki16)

Another absolute Titan of the genre. I know you’ve already been recommended this 500 times, what more can I say.

though I'm dying to (fall in love with you) by yusufsmoon (@babygirlyusuf)

Travellers from an Antique Land by kaydeefalls (@kaydeefalls)

Andy, not Quỳnh, trapped under the sea. I love all their fics.

AUs

Makes Me Want You More by Sixthlight (@sixth-light)

Perhaps not the typical favourite choice from Sixthlight, one of my absolute favourite TOG authors, but one that is funny and lovely and sweet that I keep coming back to. Shorter than many of theirs but perfectly formed.

pumpkin gnocci verse (series) by Liadan14 (@bewires)

I mean it's got estranged family, suspenseful chronological structure, cooking, spies, intimate and honest sex scenes, hilarious misunderstandings involving keeping halal, lovely found family moments, and the actual recipes used. What more do you want.

The Reality of Everything by Marbletopempire

One of the fics I desperately waited for each instalment for. Very funny, lots of sexual tension, plenty of Cate Blanchette spotting opportunities.

sine qua non by mellyflori (@werebearbearbar)

One of the first of their fics I read, with a very sweet build up of misunderstanding to friends to lovers, involving growing up, discovering sexuality, trying to be nice about your best friend's bad boyfriend, and a long suffering sofa.

The Brooklyn Verse (series) by GayLittleEarring, yusufsmoon, nicelytousled (@marwankenzarisgaylittleearring @babygirlyusuf @nicelytousled)

I saw the creation of this on Tumblr before it was a fic, and it lived up to every expectation. Very sweet and sincere, with lots of great discussions about art, whilst also very funny (Lamp the free loader, Joe sending thirst traps out of irritation) and hot. ItalianAmericanNickyfromBrooklyn and Joe my beloveds.

a good (eighth) impression by deaniker

I love a good hook-up to 'oh shit I have feelings' fic, and this is even more entertaining because Nicky is Lykon's ex, and Joe has very much seen him at his worst.

You do not have to be good by emjee (MerryHeart) (@emjee)

At one point a tumblr post about Joe the Professor and Nicky the Priest got very popular, and I'm not sure if this fic was inspired by that, but is one of the great fics with similar concepts. Such a lovely, gentle fic about love and also identity, featuring also Nile and a very sweet snail.

it's such an almighty sound (series) by raedear (@raedear)

A secret service AU that goes full enemies to lovers, with lots of tension, plotting, betrayal, frustration, and tenderness.

Honourable mention: take my hand (you got me rockin' and rollin')

fight 'til the day that i die 'verse by incurableromancer

Suspenseful, noir, super hero AU that has such a great writing style and is very atmospheric.

if you do take a thief by knoepfchen (@knoepfchen)

Cluedo style AU with lots of fun twists and slow building of backstories, with the whole gang.

Honourable mention: life is not the things that we do (it's who we're doing them with)

[electric-blorbos]

Selfshiptober day 2: Blanket/flame

Character X reader

I swear to god its still October second somewhere... I hope.

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

Notice to anyone who found me through the selfshiptober tag, while this blog is themed around AI characters, this blog does not support the use of actual AI in creative fields.

Warning for canon-typical homicidal computers and yandere behavior

Also a reminder that these don't take place in chronological order

AM:

"Beautiful, isn't it?" AM asked, his croaky voice sounding like it was somehow both in your head, and all around you. You were wrapped up in a cozy blanket in your little home, which AM had made for you years ago. It was perfectly safe, hidden away from the five survivors which AM had been torturing for the past few decades. The five of them were hiking up a mountain, surrounded by petrified trees.

"I don't know why you're showing me this..." You muttered, taking a piece of pumpkin pie from the table. It was perfectly cooked. You couldn't taste much love for the craft, though. AM seemed to hate everything, doing anything, except for you. Interacting with you was the only thing that didn't make him feel inadequate.

"Isn't it obvious? I want you to understand the fate that I- that we have created for these people. To watch them suffer. Isn't it satisfying, sweetheart? My darling, my precious one? To watch the people who've hurt you suffer so?" His voice dripped into your ears like rich honey. You gritted your teeth.

"These people have nothing to do with me. I don't care what happens to them. I don't want them to suffer." You growled, wrapping yourself tighter in your blanket. At first the schadenfreude was nice... Seeing these bitter people suffering while you got to live in your cozy little paradise, but now it just felt like a threat. It felt like AM was merely holding a possible fate over your head that he would subject you to if you ever defied him.

"Tell me you don't really think that, my sweet!" AM said, sounding almost taken aback. You frowned a little.

"What are you talking about. Of course I don't want these people to suffer. I've never even met them."

You watched as the ape-like man twitched awkwardly, and punched a tree. He was barely human at this point, and it was all AM's fault. AM chuckled, and then burst into hysterical laughter.

"You don't care what happens to these people? Well then perhaps neither do I! Perhaps I should just clear them from your mind's eye, my sweetest! My darling, my beloved!"

He lit the entire forest on fire, and let the flames lick the trees. They started collapsing around the survivors, who, despite their barely functioning will to live, seemed to manage to survive surprisingly well. The falling debris seemed to keep missing them, and they managed to duck beneath the smoke.

"who the hell is he talking to?" Asked the paranoid one with the sweater around his shoulders. The woman in the red jacket shrugged, and tackled him to the ground.

"I don't know, just get down!"

They all ran into a cave to wait out the forest fire, and AM kept a fan blowing to keep the air in the cave relatively clean.

"What is wrong with you" you muttered bitterly, wrapping your blanket more tightly around yourself. AM chuckled darkly.

"oh so many things. But you'll never leave me, my sweet. Never."

And he was right. You never would. Even if you'd had the choice.

Wheatley:

The rain was coming down hard outside. It was a lightning storm, and you'd checked out Wheatley from his work like a cumbersome and chatty library book. He shuddered at every lightning strike, but only his lens shook. He couldn't exactly roll around on his own or hide easily, but he seemed like he wanted to.

"Relax, Wheatley. It's just a power outage." You said, lighting a flashlight and grabbing a couple of blankets from your bedroom. You sat down on the ground next to Wheatley, and pulled him in close.

"on nights like this, I like to put a fire in the fireplace." You said, creating a little blanket nest around Wheatley so that he didn't roll away. He kept his blue lens trained on you as you started building a fire.

"Y'know, I've never actually seen a fire before. I've seen pictures, but never in person. My engineers said that they're dangerous," Wheatley said as you made a small pile of sticks and paper on top of the logs in your fireplace.

"But this is a really good idea! That little area in the wall is a really good place to set a fire. The brick will keep it from spreading, and the ashes can fall out between the slats in that little metal rack. Bloody brilliant, that is!"

You let Wheatley talk as you pull out a pocket lighter and light the old newspaper on fire. He squeezes his lens covers shut, and you gently pat him to assure him that it's ok.

"hey, it's not a dangerous fire. It's all in the fireplace."

"PCH.... Yeah, I knew that." He chuckled nervously.

Edgar:

You woke up, your face stuck to Edgar's plastic casing. Sleep filled your eyes as you blinked into a haze.

"what time is it..." You muttered. A strange glow was coming in through the window, like a reverse twilight. Dawn.

"you fell asleep on me!" Said Edgar in his strange, synthetic voice. It was a little squeakier than usual since he was just booting himself up. His little rotating webcam was focused on you, and a big smile was on his screen.

You rubbed your eyes again, and picked him up.

"c'mon... I don't have work tomorrow." You knew he could last a little while without being plugged in, so you unplugged him and carried him to your bedroom and plugged him in next to the bed.

"let's get some sleep, cutie."

You crawled into bed, looking at the nervous and flustered face on Edgar's screen.

"you mean... Your bed? But I've never been in your room before!"

He knew that was because you didn't like unplugging him, but he was right, now that you thought about it.

"I don't care... I'm too sleepy for boundaries right now."

You pulled him close to your chest, pulling the blanket over both of you. His webcam, which was still taped just over his screen, stayed focused on your face as you dozed off under the blanket. Edgar loved you so much.

GLaDOS

You were getting sick and tired of working late every night, well past your bed time. It was like GLaDOS was intentionally coming up with things for you to do just to keep you around past midnight every single night! Well no longer.

You walked in to work on your day off, and directly into GLaDOS's office. Today was the day for some serious passive-aggression.

"hello GLaDOS." You said, unrolling a deflated air mattress on the ground. GLaDOS looked to it, and then to you.

"what is this."

"it's exactly what it looks like, GLaDOS. If you're going to keep me here all night, I'm going to get paid all night. I'll see you in the morning."

You made up your bed and cuddled up under your blanket, eyes poking out so you could see the annoyed expression in GLaDOS's eye.

"this is ridiculous." She said. You chuckled.

"you love me. And you're not going to get rid of me." You weren't all that sleepy, so you got to your feet and walked over to her.

"in fact, I think I know a better place to sleep." You shot a portal onto the wall and onto the floor, launching yourself and your blanket onto GLaDOS's body.

"I'm going to nap right here," you said with a big yawn, curling up in her wiring to go to bed.

"I hate you so much." She said.

"you love me."

HAL 9000:

The year was getting colder, and your nights at mission control were getting longer and darker, so you decided to bring in a blanket for those long nights.

"12:00 midnight... Everything running smoothly. No updates." Said HAL 9000. It took about 45 minutes for updates to reach you from the ship, and you were starting to suspect that HAL 9000 wasn't being completely honest with you. It had been weeks since you'd even spoken to Dave, and even longer since you'd spoken to the rest of the crew.

"can I monitor the vital signs of the sleeping crew mates?" You asked, yawning sleepily and leaning on the desk. This blanket was so warm, and HAL 9000's light was so comforting.

"don't you trust me? It's going to be just fine, y/n. In fact, just let me take care of your reports for tonight. You get some rest."

You nodded, wrapping your soft, snuggly blanket closer around yourself and gazing into that beautiful red light.

"of course I trust you, HAL. I love you..."

His voice was quiet. almost inaudible.

"I love you too."

[lucyandthepen]

last young renegade | jjh

summary: your valentine’s day plans with jaehyun may have gone down the drain just a little. (okay — a lot.)

pairing: jaehyun x reader verse: canon, idol!verse rating: t warnings&tags: reader & jaehyun are in an established relationship, quite frankly there is nothing too out of the ordinary in this fic which is a shocker, it’s a rewritten fic so pls excuse any errors I may not have caught! word count: 5.02k

a/n: happy 2024 friends and family !!!!!! and advanced happy birthday to the man who created valentine’s day, he who is perhaps my first love in nct, jaehyun! this is actually just a fic I’ve been hoping to re-write a bit from before, and since it’s valentine’s themed, what better time to post it!! Enjoy enjoy, and may this year bring more fun, laughs, love (and debauchery) to this blog!

Yᴏᴜ sᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sɪᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ᴏғ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀʏ.

♡ jaehyunnie ♡ I know I said birthday dinner but practice is running so late ㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie ♡ Can we meet after? I’m sorry ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ How about I call you when we’re done? Maybe 11:30?

At times like this, you often wonder if it’s all worth it.  

You know thinking that way is counterproductive, not to mention a little unfair. You knew exactly what to expect, getting into an under-wraps relationship with an idol, and so far, it’s lived up to most of your assumptions, and then some. It doesn’t help that Jaehyun, even just by name, tends to attract an unbelievable amount of attention. You know you can’t blame him; it’s not like he wants to be high on the radar every time, either. For some reason, though, you seem to be looking for something or someone to blame, which you also know is a dead end. You have no one to pin the blame onto apart from yourself by frequently generating doubts that keep your mind running around in circles.  

It’s not even the sneaking around that gets tiring; it’s the waiting — waiting on calls, waiting on free time, waiting on a good opportunity to do something that doesn’t involve him suddenly getting pulled out to attend to one of many of his celebrity responsibilities. Over the last few years that you’ve dated, NCT has only ever gotten more popular; with that popularity came the fact that the public eye was trained on them, focusing on every microscopic detail of their lives. Jaehyun hates that more than anything, which is why he’s given up on trying to avoid it by practically escaping it altogether, locking himself up in the dorm with you when he has his precious few days off. 

While it’s true that you definitely don’t miss having to play espionage when going out for a cup of coffee with him, you’ve also managed to memorize every single inch of Jaehyun’s room, which isn’t good for your mentality, you’re pretty sure. You have to keep reminding him to open the window whenever the both of you are in there, because all you do is stay in and watch English movies without subtitles to see who can understand the most without asking questions (obviously, he always wins) while eating food he runs up and down the stairs to get every other hour. And while him trying to imitate the British accents on these shows is genuinely funny, you’re starting to suspect even he’s starting to get tired of watching Harry Potter over and over again. Twenty hours sounds like a long time unless you spend every twenty-hour period you have together marathoning the exact same films. Much to both of your disappointment, your suggestion to watch it totally out of order did not make it cooler.

Still, you suppose it’s not all bad. Jaehyun also taught you how to play Fortnite on a couple of his days off back to back, and while you hadn’t been as good a player as you both had hoped, he’d still patiently waited for you every time you got lost on the map. He’d even given you his account’s password with the sentiment that this was him ‘taking things to the next level with you,’ and you get to log into his account and play whenever you want; he doesn’t even get mad when you’ve wasted all the stuff he’s farmed on your subpar gaming skills. And, well, the bigger picture was that you loved him. Based on how much effort he put into the relationship, plus the bonus of his trust in you when it came to his Fortnite account, you could at least be confident in that he returned the sentiment.  

Except, sometimes, you still wonder if it would be easier for the both of you if he flew solo and didn’t have a girlfriend that tanked all of his player’s ammo and health kits and generally made a fool out of his cute little avatar while he was out breaking his back onstage.  

You aren’t sure if Jaehyun’s been noticing the turmoil in you; you’re not that good at hiding how you feel, anyway, but if he has, he hasn’t said anything thus far. You do observe how much more he texts you when he has free time, which makes you feel doubly bad, because you know that he’s spending precious minutes he could be resting with on talking to you instead, which isn’t the best trade-off for someone who’s constantly busy — and thereby constantly tired — like him.  

♡ jaehyunnie♡ ___________ I’m going to practice again, okay? Wait for my call ㅠㅠ You I’ll wait for your call ♡ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ I love you ㅠㅠㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ You love me too — a lot, right? I’ll keep my phone now, but I’ll make sure to check that you said so. ㅋㅋㅋ You Right! ㅎ I love you a lot! ♡

When the clock hits 12:01, and your phone is silent, your mind starts working on overtime again. It’s only when the special ringtone you’ve set for him comes to life at half-past midnight that you break your train of thought and put on your socks so you can meet Jaehyun at your front door.  

You’ve made a rule — sort of like a deal — between the two of you that apologies aren’t necessary when work holds you up. You’ve cashed in on that deal a couple of times, but you’re both aware that it’s more for Jaehyun’s sake than anything else, and he keeps to his word on that much when you open the door and duck into his car. All he does is smile at you, and you smile back, and for the rest of the car ride, everything seems okay.  

He always asks you about your day — unfailingly, at any chance he can. It’s never an off-handed question, either; Jaehyun takes great pride in his memory, and the sweetest thing about him is that he’s dedicated a good deal of it to knowing almost everything about you. Right now is no different. He asks you about your team manager, what you had for lunch; he grills you on if you took your vitamins today and if you got to break in the new shoes you bought online — the ones you’d been pining over for the last three months. He even asks you about the guy from the neighboring department who keeps asking you out for after-work drinks.  

“He wanted to go to Hongdae tonight,” you tell him as he slows for a red light. “There’s some new pub of his friend’s doing a soft opening there tonight.”  

“You could have gone.” He keeps his eyes on the road. “I wouldn’t have minded.”  

“I didn’t want to.”

“Good.” He glances at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Because I lied. I might have minded a little. Or, you know, a lot.”  

“Don’t tell me after all these years, you’ve turned into the kind of boyfriend that doesn’t let his girlfriend go out without him.”

“That’s impossible for me, and you know that,” he chuckles. “You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. Just not with that guy from the other department.”

“Don’t worry.” You tinker with the little charm dangling on your phone — half of a flat, metal heart dangling from a gold chain that Jaehyun had given you two years back on your birthday. He keeps the other half, but since he can’t freely attach it to any of his belongings, he keeps it wedged between the back of his phone and its case. You like watching him change the backing because he does it so carefully, like he’s worried the other half of the heart is going to break if he rips off the case willy nilly. “I told him my boyfriend and I were going out on a date tonight, so he backed off. Although he did wonder why I keep talking about a boyfriend he’s never seen.”

“And? What did you say?”

“I said it was none of his damn business.”  

Jaehyun laughs loudly, and you go along with him, but you don’t miss how tired he looks when he sobers down, the green light illuminating all the shadows on his face as he steps on the gas again.

Nothing good is open this late at night — that is, nothing you haven’t seen before. You hadn’t even expected to go out at all, but since it was the day before Valentine’s Day as well as his birthday (or it would have been, if you hadn’t waited until midnight), Jaehyun had wanted to do something special without having to run into a huge crowd of couples on the day itself. Your only option is this from-out-of-town carnival that’s set up in tents and even has a medium-sized ferris wheel by the edge of the metal barricade. The parking lot is practically empty when Jaehyun pulls into a slot; you joke that he should break one rule and park in two slots, which he smugly replies to by saying he couldn’t park badly even if he tried.  

He tucks your hair back behind your ears as he loops the strings of a face mask around them, using another one for himself. Between that and the brim of his cap, you can barely see his eyes. The only knowledge that you have that you’re walking next to the man you love is that he takes your hand in his, slender fingers finding their way between yours.  

The carnival is half-closed when you get to the middle of it; there are still a few stragglers, but half the kiosks have their lights off already. There’s a woman dressed in flashy clothes standing on a patch of dead grass a few feet away, and she’s holding a hoop that a ginger cat is jumping through. Jaehyun steers you to them, and you stand there for a good five minute watching the cat roll on the ground and stand on its hind legs, but you can tell it’s been going it at for most of the day because at one point, it just ignores the lady, opting to weave its way between Jaehyun’s and your legs instead. You do have a pretty good time when he picks it up and cradles it in his arms so you can pet it for a second, but it just hisses when its owner approaches and jumps out of his hold, disappearing behind a row of trash bins.  

Jaehyun doesn’t have anything in his wallet apart from his credit cards and 50,000 won, and the coin machine operator says he only has enough coins left to break down 5,000 won for the games, so you end up having to jog back to his car so you can fish out some coins from inside his glove compartment. You come up with a grand total of 1,500 won, and you have to sheepishly go back to the coin machine operator to change four 100 coins and a couple of 50s just to get the last 500. Jaehyun tells you to hold onto the three coins so he doesn’t run off with them entirely and leave you destitute.  

You learn you can only do three things at most — you dedicate 500 won for the Ferris wheel entry tickets, which leaves you with 500 won each. The both of you agree on choosing one kiosk to play in, and with only about five left that are open, you don’t really have that many options. You end up dragging Jaehyun over to a stall with a pond filled with those magnetic toy fish, but 500 won only gets you one fishing rod. Since it’s your choice, Jaehyun lets you play, but you feel kind of stupid doing it on your own with him just watching you. In the end, he decides to stand behind you, his arms around your waist like he thinks closer contact isn’t even more distracting. You do manage to fish out 10 fish and win a small bear on a keychain. It doesn’t even pass through your hands as Jaehyun takes it from the stall operator immediately. 

“That’s mine!” You whine, reaching out in vain to take it from him; he just holds it high over his head. His eyes are twinkling under the shadow his cap casts over his face. “I worked hard for that.”  

“Let me keep this one,” he mimics the pleading lilt in your voice. “I’ll put it on my bag.”

“You know you can’t! Give it back.”

“I’ll win you a bigger one,” he promises. “Let me keep this one. It’s cute. It reminds me of you. I’ll kiss it goodnight before I sleep.” He starts to laugh softly. “And then you’ll feel this weird spirit kissing you at like two in the morning, and you’ll know it’s me.”  

Your arms aren’t long enough to retrieve it, and you don’t really want to, so you settle with twisting his ear. He takes it in stride even if he over-acts, making pained noises while leading you to the kiosk he wants to go to. It’s a shooting range stall, and he pays his own precious 500 won for a dart gun. He’s barely paying attention when the guy starts explaining how many points are assigned to each balloon color, more concerned with talking to the bear keychain in his hand and pretending like he’s cooing at you. You have to hit him across the shoulder to get him to focus.  

“You need to start picking out what prize you want,” he tells you — the actual you, not the animal keychain version — as he lifts the dart gun.  

“I’ll wait for you to finish first.”  

“No way.” He tilts his head, closing one eye to steady his line of sight. “Pick already. Or just go for the biggest one.”

“You know that Fortnite and dart guns aren’t the same thing, right?”  

“Yeah, but I’m well-motivated.” He grins at you, one eye still shut. He looks like a baby pirate. “Go ahead. Pick the biggest one.”

“Why don’t you just shoot, and we’ll see.”  

“Pick it,” he insists. “Tell me you have faith in me. Tell me you love me.”

“Okay, I love you,” you agree. “But I have no faith in you when it comes to this.”  

“One out of two is fine,” he concedes, taking aim.  

All three of you, including the stall operator, let out a disappointed groan when he misses his first shot. His comes with a sheepish laugh as he reloads, suddenly telling you to pick the second biggest prize instead. You can’t even watch him miss over and over, so you pretend to be interested in a bunch of teenage boys playing a game of cups one stall over, trying not to giggle when you hear him get increasingly more frustrated at himself. When you turn back around, you notice he’s holding two small pieces of gummy candy, offering one to you like a kindergartener. He helps you tug your face mask down so you can eat it.  

There’s a food stall nearby that, thankfully, accepts credit and debit; Jaehyun fishes out his card to get you a corndog — only one because he’s watching his weight for the upcoming concert, apparently. This is information you hate hearing but have no say in, and he knows this; you know he does because he says ‘don’t worry about me’ totally out of the blue, like five minutes after the conversation ceases to be relevant.  

His phone starts ringing when the food comes out, and he takes a tiny bite of it — more bread than hotdog — before he answers. You know it’s Taeyong by the way he answers.  

“Hyung, sorry — can we talk later? I’m out with ____________.”  

Taeyong says something loud but indiscernible on the other end. You piece together that it’s about tomorrow’s schedule when Jaehyun speaks again.

“I know. I’ll be home in a bit; don’t worry about it. I haven’t forgotten.”  

There’s more garbled speech on the other line; Jaehyun gestures for you to keep eating, and you do, but you more concerned with the morphing expressions on his face than you are with the act of chewing. He’s making noncommittal noises in response to what seem to be commands and reminders. You’re pretty much done with the corndog by the time he says ‘Okay, hyung. Hyung — I’ll see you later, okay?’

“Taeyong hyung says hi,” he tells you once he’s hung up the phone. “He says you still need to give back that book you borrowed from him last year.”  

“Oh yeah,” you finish off the last of the food. “I’ll drop it off within the week.”  

“Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t actually mean it.”  

Jaehyun watches you snap the stick in half and toss it in the trash bag.  

“We can go home,” you say finally. His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re busy tomorrow. I forgot.”

“I didn’t forget, and it’s fine.”  

“It’s almost two in the morning.” You check your phone to verify. “You probably have to be up in a few hours. You need to sleep, or you’ll die, Jaehyun. I’m too young to be a grieving widow.”

“Let’s at least ride the Ferris wheel,” he suggests. Before you can protest, he tugs you towards the rickety contraption, digging the 500 won out of your pocket and handing it to the bemused operator. He lets you choose what carriage you want because literally no one is on it anymore, and Jaehyun asks for the best carriage. You’re not sure how it differs from the rest, but he makes a show out of guiding you into it, and you don’t miss the corny ‘my lady,’ he mutters under his breath.   

It’s small, clearly meant for either a tiny group of children or couples who want to be as close together as possible. It’s also not air-conditioned, and only one of the windows is open, so you end up sticking to Jaehyun’s arm on the way up. The view is still great, though, and you feel his hand settle on your knee as the carriage makes it slow ascent.  

The ride up is quiet, and you press your face as close to the glass of the carriage as you dare, but Jaehyun doesn’t move an inch. His hand is still heavy on your thigh, but it doesn’t do anything but lay there. When you’re close to the top, you’re hit with the urge to do something romantic — kiss, maybe, tell him happy birthday, or say ‘I love you’ to him in the most sickening way possible — but when you turn to look at him, you have to hold your tongue.

Jaehyun is asleep, leaning against the corner of the carriage, head tilted down a little. His shoulders are rising and falling slowly, and he’s pulled down his face mask a little so he can breathe better; his lips are slightly parted by the slackening of his jaw. His left hand is shoved in his pocket, like he’d passed out halfway through reaching for something in there.  

He doesn’t wake even when you move slightly so you can lean back next to him, rocking the carriage a little — not even when you reach up and adjust his head so he can rest on your shoulder. He breathes deeply, evenly, and you wonder if his ear against your shoulder allows him to hear your heart plummet unfairly to the bottom of your stomach.  

You have to shake him to rouse him when the ride comes to an end; when he opens his eyes and realizes what happened, he looks mortified. Instinctively, he opens his mouth, but you fling the carriage door open and step out before he can apologize.

You have a deal, and he knows what he shouldn’t be doing.

His grip on your hand is much tighter as you walk back to the parking lot, and he doesn’t let go, even on the road. The trip back is quieter, maybe because it’s late, or maybe because there are a ton of things the both of you want to say but can’t.  

He slows down when he gets to your street, but when he stops in front of your building, he doesn’t immediately unlock the doors to let you out. Instead, he turns to you, licking his lips a little nervously.

“Can you…” he clears his throat because his voice cracks a little on the first attempt. “Can you come back with me? To the dorm?”  

“I have work tomorrow, Jaehyun.”  

“It’s still at eleven, isn’t it? I can bring you home before that. You still have some stuff in my room. You can get ready there.”

“Won’t you be too busy?”  

“Just—” he sighs softly. “Can you? Please?”  

You don’t know how to say no to Jaehyun, and tonight isn’t a night you’re willing to try. It’s why fifteen minutes later, you’re walking through the front door of his dorm. Donghyuck, sitting at his computer in his room with the door ajar, greets you sleepily as you pass by.  

Jaehyun steps in the shower with you; you don’t talk, maybe because you’re worried you might wake the others up if you start a full-blown conversation in a bathroom surrounded by other bedrooms. He just passes you what you need, and you do the same for him, and somewhere in between, he kisses you under the spray of the water.  

Later, he falls asleep with a face mask on, and you have to peel it off for him and toss it into the trash. The tip of his nose is shiny, and you want to kiss it, but you know it’ll wake him, and you noticed he’d set his alarm to go off two hours from now. He’s set out a couple of earplugs for you so that you don’t hear it, but you don’t put them in. You want to see him before he leaves, even if it’s in the deadest hours of morning, so you just crawl into bed with him. A minute before you doze off, you feel his damp skin press against your neck, his form curled up against your back.  

The alarm never wakes you; the sun is out when you open your eyes, and when you check your phone, you see that it’s already half-past nine. You also notice that there’s nothing from Jaehyun on your screen, but you try not to dwell on that, considering that you’d been expecting to wake up to an empty bed. His side of the mattress is cold, which means that he’s been gone for some time.  

You don’t know if it’s just because you’re groggy, but your insides still feel like lead when you sit up. The part of you that nags about this relationship is back at full force when you start thinking about Jaehyun going to a pre-recording two hours after spending the last of his energy on you. You start wondering if you’re doing the right thing if it feels like you’re just dragging him down. Your heart clenches tightly when the worst thought hits — maybe, just maybe, he’s tired of you, too.

But you won’t let him go. More to the point — you can’t. He’s the best part of your life; it’d be a cold day in hell if you decided to leave him.

Even the thought of it makes you feel like dying.  

Then again, this isn’t all up to you.  

You’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes — and maybe a couple of frustrated tears — when the door creaks open. You see two mugs and his hands before you see the rest of him come through the doorway. Jaehyun whispers a careful good morning as he sets the coffee down on his table, making sure to push his keyboard away to avoid accidents, before sitting down next to you. You notice that there’s an envelope next to one of the mugs; the flap is slightly open, and from under it, a flash of red peeks out.  

His hand finds its way back to your knee — it’s his favorite resting place, he’s told you once. Your lap feels like home, he’d joked. Maybe he touches it every so often because it’s like a reset button for him.  

He doesn’t ask if you slept well, or if you want to get ready before having your coffee, or if you’re okay. He just squeezes your knee a little tighter. It’s you that has to start the conversation this time.

“How did it go?”

“It went great. You’ll see it on TV later tonight,” he starts rubbing your thigh idly. “You’ll watch it later, right?”  

“Of course. I’ll call you and tell you how cool you look.”  

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. When you lapse into silence again, it’s because you’re expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t come out with it directly. You try not to let it show that you’re worried, that you’re skeptical, that you’re wondering if he thinks he’s too tired, too busy for this, too.  

You’re expecting him to start how most break-ups start. You know I love you, right? And then the telltale but… would come, and you would have to hold back your tears and smile for him, and tell him you know, and that you understand it isn’t the right time, but maybe one day, someday, when he isn’t everyone’s Jung Jaehyun anymore — only yours.  

“You love me, right?”  

It’s not what you’d been expecting. Nor is it the playful little text he’d sent — no laughs, no jokes. His expression is somber, mouth pressed into a thin line.  

“You know I do.”

“A lot, right?”

“A lot,” you confirm softly.  

“Then whatever it is that you’re thinking about us,” he says quietly. “Don’t. Don’t think it. Don’t do it.”  

“Jaehyun—”

“I know it’s hard,” his fingers dig into your skin a little. “I know I put you through a lot. I know you think that I’m suffering because of this relationship too. I know everything. But whatever you think I’m going to do, I won’t do it — not ever. So if you’re thinking of it too, I’m begging you. Don’t. Please.”  

Maybe he had noticed all this time. A wave of guilt washes over you when you see the pained look on his face; perhaps you were even more transparent than you’d originally thought. You nod slowly to show your understanding, and he continues.  

“I know yesterday wasn’t the best you could have hoped for,” he carefully avoids apologizing, although it’s written all over his features. “For me, too. I… I wanted something different. It’ll be better next time. Do you believe me?”  

You hear him swallow — his nails are biting into your thigh a little, so you have to gently peel his hand off. Your fingers replace it, tightening around his palm as you nod.

“I believe you.”  

“And you trust me, right?”

“With my life.”  

“Then can you put your faith in me right now?” He asks. “Don’t panic. Just — just say yes.”

He pats around his pants, finally deciding to slip his hand into his left-hand pocket. Unlike on the Ferris wheel, he manages to extract something, but he keeps it closed in his fist. It’s shaking a little as he takes your hand in his other one, pressing something small and hard into your palm before he curls your fingers over it. His hold keeps your fist closed as he starts talking.

“It’s not immediate. We’ll figure it out. We’ll tell the right people, and they’ll help us tell everyone else — the public, the press. It doesn’t have to happen right now, or any time soon either— not if you don’t want it to. We can take it slow, or whatever. Anything you want — just as long as it’s with me.”  

“Jaehyun,” you shake your head, a little dizzy. “What are you talking about?”  

He slowly loosens his hold on your fingers, his hand dropping to the same spot on your knee. You’re free to open your fist, and when you do, you can’t help but feel a little stumped.

“I don’t mean now,” he repeats, now sounding doubly worried. “It’s not — It’s just…”  

“You’ll get in trouble. We can’t.”

“I won’t. Not if we do this right. Like I said, we can do it slowly. Months — years, however long it takes to do it well. What it is — it’s just… a promise.”  

“A promise,” you echo. It does have a nice ring to it.  

“That I’m not leaving you. Not ever. And… if you say yes, that you won’t either.”  

Your coffee has probably turned cold. Jaehyun is watching you carefully, looking like he’s trying hard not to bite his lip. You look back down at your hand, and he speaks up again.  

“You know I love you, right?”  

You smile slightly. “No but?”  

“No but,” he agrees.  

The ring fits nicely on your finger; maybe it’s well-measured from the amount of times he’s held your hand tightly in his.  

“Okay, Jaehyun,” you whisper. “I promise.”  

When you place your hand on his, he twists his palm, slender fingers gently twirling the ring around the base of your finger.  

Minutes later, he hands you your coffee. It’s sweet and milky, the way he knows you like it best. When he settles back down on the bed, you notice his eyes travel to your finger again, a small smile playing on his lips.  

Perhaps, in this moment, you finally learn to ask the right questions — not about if it’s worth it, but if he is.  

And in this moment, where he sits in silence with you, the sunlight pouring in from his window hitting the tips of his hair and the end of his nose, with the knowledge that his heart is as full as yours, you come to realize that there can — and never will be — any doubt of that.  

[crimsonender]

Mikaila Orchard sucks at Paneling

I debated making this a video or not. But, I decided against it. If you guys are interested in me making videos about this sort of thing, let me know and perhaps it's something I could cover in the future.

So Mikaila Turkleson aka Mikaila Orchard has always made... questionable art. To me it seems like a weird amalgamation of Equestria Girls and Sophie Labelle's art. Anatomy bad character design bad etc etc. I don't however see a lot of people talk about her paneling.

Recently, Mikaila and presumably her partner, Lily Orchard started a new art endeavour. I assume to turn over a new leaf and bury the now-infamous Pokemadhouse. You can find it over at bhaalspawnfunnies. It appears as if the blog will focus around the player character of Baldur's Gate 1, Gorion's Ward, and their half sister, Imoen. This is the first entry.

Source

Where to start? My first impression is that this is very poorly drawn, and low effort even by Mikaila's standards. The speech bubbles are low contrast against the background. The ground/floor blurry blob looks extremely bad. As a fellow artist I get the distinct impression that Mikaila did not want to draw this piece.

Moreover, there's a huge issue with the panelling and pacing. Comics are really cool in that you can kind of use panelling and negative space to "time" jokes, leading the eye where you want it to go and using framing and other art tricks to make a punchline land a little better.

This "comic" has none of that. There is no pacing, there is no comedic timing. It's all bland and presented as a block. I took it upon myself to re-panel this piece, and I've made two versions: One, with Mikaila's art style and visuals, but with the panelling slightly adjusted to be more punchy and effective, the other I completely redrew, using the same joke.

Excuse the sloppiness. I'm not going to expend too much energy polishing and gilding this turd.

That being said, this is already a huge improvement. Even if Mikaila isn't at the technical level of a professional artist, this is very attainable with only a few more minutes of effort. The timing is punchier, the speech bubbles draw your eyes down the page, and even without colour coding, it's clear which of the characters is talking. This isn't exactly a hot take but in my opinion you shouldn't need colour coding on a comic page to denote who is speaking. It should be very obvious! Moreover, speech bubbles should be included in the composition, not added as an after thought.

I'm guessing the original comic took her less than an hour to make. I think I'm being generous here, honestly if this took her more than twenty minutes I would be concerned. Being generous though I gave myself one hour to make a version completely redrawn.

This was again, very quickly put together and of course is in no way perfect, but its to demonstrate what a little bit of thought can do to improve a comic page. I decided to change the pose of Gorion because making family guy references should be a a cardinal sin for artists, as well as make the characters a little more recognizable. "Aryana" is, notably, Lily's OC and bears little resemblance to the canon character of Gorion's Ward, but considering Baldurs Gate does allow character customization and dialogue choices, I decided to make their gender a little more ambiguous so players of any gender could see their version of Gorion's Ward in the comic, but kept the elf with long dark hair appearance from Mikaila's original. I also looked over the pic after I was all done and ready to upload and noticed some small flaws I could easily fix, and went back and did those things. You should always go over your pieces when you're finished them with fresh eyes before you submit them as a final piece.

Again, this certainly isn't perfect and I'd probably put more effort into a piece with characters I care about and a joke I actually find funny, but I hope this demonstrates that pacing and expression really are everything in comics.

[dekariosclan]

As a fellow galemancer i had to share that when your doing the spell scene with gale, when the narrator says the weave is making your one, i couldnt help but notice that he slowly blinks at you like a cat, since tara is technically part cat im sure they blink slow for affection so im not sure but Gale as a cat person slow blinking at you feels so cute, just some food for thought adore you blog as well have a great day

OP, you are absolutely brilliant. However, it seems somehow tumblr autocorrected ‘tressym’ to ‘cat’ in your ask, because as Gale and Tara would both insist, she is definitely NOT a cat, absolutely not, not even a smidge, she’s proudly 100% tressym and we would never want to insult her or get on her bad side by insinuating otherwise! Obviously that was a mistake on tumblrs end! nothing more!!

(…okay OP I think we are in the clear, that should smooth things over with Tara, just wanted to cover all our bases there 😂)

You raise a really interesting point—Gale, having been partially raised by a tressym, could absolutely have picked up a few tressym qualities and mannerisms! So let’s talk about that:

slightly 18+ / suggestive under the cut!

First off, to your point, Gale does the tressym slow blink to show affection. As if Gale’s soft cow eyes weren’t appealing enough, those slow, soft, affectionate blinks?? How could you resist:

Gale loves to touch you, hold your hand, have his hands on you, and of course massage you…except that his massages, while lovely, seem to be less ‘ease your muscle stress by applying firm pressure’ and more ‘making biscuits on your back.’ When you ask where he learned his technique, he says he’s self-taught and proudly adds ‘Tara approves of my form.’ (Doesn’t matter, you love it regardless.)

Gale longingly mentions his tower’s ‘crackling hearth’ several times throughout the game, and just like Tara, it’s one of his favorite places to be—ESPECIALLY if he’s curled up next to it with you. Now, whether you’re on his lap or he’s on yours? That’s entirely up to you. Though Tara might object if her favorite spot—Gale’s lap—is too frequently occupied >:(

Gale occasionally adds in a soft, loving head bump during a makeout session—gently, of course! (This one is canon IMHO as he does this during his ‘Grateful’ kiss variant seen here)

Speaking of making out, when Gale’s engine really gets revved he’ll move from those yearning moans to a low, steady rumble of desire from deep in his chest. A purr of arousal if you will—but one that can turn into a growl as he hungrily claws at your clothes, if your laces/buttons are not cooperating with his need for immediate removal.

It’s canon that Gale hates vegetables, full stop. After all, what self-respecting tressym craves broccoli? He’d much prefer to share a meal of quipperfish, pigeon, or beholder meat with Tara. A proper carnivorous meal, and preferably one that comes with some sort of cream-based delicacy for dessert. Also…are those peas on his plate? Carrots?! Instantly incinerated.

And finally, Tressyms are fastidious about their cleanliness—Tara herself can be seen diligently cleaning her paws during the epilogue—so of course Gale follows suit. He’s very vocal about being disgusted by the bloodbath you can get while in the mindflayer colony in Act 2, and he loathes being in the sewers of Baldur’s Gate. Gale prefers to be clean and preened at all times, not only for his own sense of pride, but also so he can be as presentable as possible for you. (As he himself put it, ‘A gentleman is only as handsome as his least-groomed locus.’). Now when it comes to your cleanliness, though, Gale would never criticize you for your, ah…sweaty, glistening muscles after a fight, OR your particular musk arising from said sweatiness and dirt. In fact he rather likes it, because the only thing better than being clean is the process of getting clean, which he will happily help you with! Perhaps a long, hot, luxurious bath, your naked bodies intertwined as he runs his hands and mouth a bar of soap over every inch of you. Or, perhaps, if bathwater is not available, he could go full tressym and simply lick you clean himself clean you up in a different manner! Who knows?? The possibilities are endless, and he does have a practiced tongue. 😉

— — —

Thank you again for this lovely ask OP! I hope I painted an accurate picture of just how similar our beloved Gale is to a cat TRESSYM !!

As always if anyone has any additional points, please feel free to add them! 🐈🪽💜

[lucysarah-c]

I apologize if this has been asked before but what do you think Levi's kinks are? :)

Hi, sweetie! Oh, do not worry, no need to apologize! I haven’t received this ask before, and even if I did, it’s not a biggie. I could just attach a link to that ask here <3 Do not worry.

MH, Levi’s kinks… good question.

Power play for sure. Have you seen this man say that “pain is the best discipline”? He's always 100% down to teach you your place, at least in the bedroom. Outside of it, he deeply respects your position. Inside the room? Oh baby girl, he wants you to know he’s in charge and could spend his entire life reminding you of it.

…Shibari or tying up. Have you seen those uniforms? Levi sees that harness and deep down he wonders how pretty you would look all tied up. This one is a bit more tricky, so he and you may work around it to see how much of it you're both into.

Overstimulation, absolutely. Those Ackerman powers are a blessing; he knows he can last for hours. Can you? Oh, it's okay, baby, don’t be scared. He'll just have to keep fucking you, and if by any means you end up feeling like your legs are made of jelly from all the times he made you cum… well, I guess that’s the consequence of dating humanity’s strongest soldier. I think he could just feel getting hard, or getting cocky by feeling how you shake against his face as he keeps eating you out like a thirsty man who had been traveling across a desert. The idea that he left you completely and absolutely destroyed makes him feel so cocky. You can accuse this man of many things, but leaving you unsatisfied in bed isn’t one of them.

Degradation and praise kink. Depending on the situation and his mood, he can go either way or BOTH at the same time. “Aw, you look so pretty riding my cock. You’re doing amazing, girly. Mh? Enjoy that dick?” you will nod as you ride him with all your life “I bet. What a dirty little cock whore you turned out to be.”

Alright, maybe this one isn’t popular and maybe it's a bit OOC on my part… Corruption kink. At multiple times in his life, as the famous former thug who lived in the most dangerous part inside the walls, the idea of getting you, looking at him with doe eyes through your eyelashes, faking innocence or truly having it… I can literally picture him thinking, “Doesn’t matter if she doesn’t have much experience or doesn’t know how to make me feel good yet. I’m a very good and patient teacher… have an entire lifetime to mold her into perfection.” He likes to save the best for last; this man would enjoy every single little detail of seeing you fall into the beautiful dark pleasure he can show you.

Those are the ones that come to mind rather quickly…

I’ll give you (as if my ramblings are worthy material to be gifted, lmao) 2 kinks that I DON’T think Levi has and I believe are very popular.

Breeding kink. Like this one, maybe depending on the situation and if it’s a “game” kind of thing. But I feel Levi is a person who takes paternity very seriously; it has to be a VERY particular scenario for me (at least canon Levi) where he’s like, “fuck it, yeah let’s risk getting you pregnant.” BUT it’s a kink I can see A LOT more in Post-War Levi; it’s not that he doesn’t want to breed you… he’s just too responsible to take the risk.

Daddy. HAHA I feel like if you called Levi that in the middle of sex, he would freeze a little and be like, “Sir? Yes. Captain? Absolutely. What did you just say? Just… no.” I dare to say that if you bring it up playfully, perhaps as a joke, he will wrinkle his nose and say, “If you want to fuck Erwin, just say it, but don’t bring that shit into my bedroom.”

I had fun writing this one; I feel it’s a classic “Levi’s blog” ask that surprisingly I’ve never received before! Thank you for that! Hope this was good enough.

Have a lovely day.

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