#perhaps the silliest ones yet

[andro-dino]

guess what I wrote

4.6k words about my ideas for the dragon clan and kurayami family at large wooo 🎉🎉

this includes both canon information, hcs, and expansion on Ryoma, Victoria, and Canela’s characters. i am very insane but feel free to check it out if it sounds interesting 🫶

[pomegranate-pen]

Daym sis !! It took you this long to finally do your reqs ? Better late than never ig, ok but fr tho I’m glad you’ve decided to do your reqs for lackadaisy. Cause I was starting to worry !! So I’m glad your ok <33

Anyways, may I req a Rocky Rickaby x rich (closer to a billionaire) Fem! or gn! reader headcannons? Who is kinda polar opposite to Rocky? They’re kind, social, friendly yet calm, reserved, secretive and kinda mysterious because of their status? And it’s not like they got this money from some distant cousin, they had to work hard.

I can also see them spoiling Rocky in little, subtle ways. Like when his violin is broken from his rumrunning, the reader gifts him with a new one, and despite having no note to specify who exactly gave it to him, he can probably guess who it is. Can this also be like a friends to lovers kind of thing? That’d be cool.

Btw u dont have to do this if u dont wanna, or u can do this later, No pressure ! Make sure to take care of yourself, take breaks and have a wonderful day !!!

Rocky Rickaby x rich!gn!Reader headcanons

A/n: what?? Pomegranate pen actually keeping her promise and releasing something at a weekend?? That's impossible!!! Nsjwjwjwjw anyway, hi dear anon!! Tysm for requesting, I will admit, this was very fun to write,especially since I really missed writing for lackadaisy these few days. Thanks for requesting!! I hope you enjoy this!!

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Maintaining a bountiful fortune costs your time, soul and trust and in the world where greed overtakes all morals people have, you always need to be careful on whom you let see your weakness, whom you let see your heart.

So safe to say, you weren’t so keen on trusting a place so deeply rumoured as the lackadaisy speakeasy, let alone become a sponsor of it.

Or at least, that was the case before you met the infamous bootlegger of the place, Rocky Rickaby when he suddenly crashed face first with your car in a farmer's field late in the night. You truly thought he was dead at that moment, you were certain you just accidentally killed someone late into the night because the exhaustion of your soul-consuming meetings finally caught up to you. but then as you got out of the car, as you tried to reevaluate the situation and tried to find any sort of farm or shelter that you could ask help from, a sudden groan of pain gets your attention. The grey cat looks at you with the wooziest eyes and the silliest of grins.

One of his hands shakily goes up to point at you. “…has the nightingale sent her prettiest angel to take me away?” His voice was anything but coherent. “…why I must be quite the lucky…poet..”

As relief washes over you to the fact that he’s breathing, at the very least, you notice a nasty wound opening up on his head, a bit of blood ready to gush out of it. then you notice the box of what seems to be bottles of moonshine that spilled with him as he was running away.

 Before you could think of anything else- you hear grunts, gunshots and yells from across the fields, and in that moment of flight or fight, you grab onto the concerningly lanky cat and drive away.

Through all your yells to yourself about literally taking an injured stranger into your car and running away, you also realized why you felt such an urge. Your brain has seemed to connect the dots.whoever this guy was, it was obvious his job was the unsavoury kind, a bootlegger. An occupation you remember having a long time ago, a job you remember being your worst. Perhaps,you’ve felt sympathy for the guy and decided to save him before things got deadly.

Nevertheless, with an abundance of self-deprecation and worry for what will be the outcome of your quick and on-pressure decision, you took him to your house.

Maids and servants alike gasped in horror when they saw their boss caryying a man who looks like he took a deep swim in the mud, blood trickling down his blue suit and staining your own clothing. You quickly ask for their aid and bring him to the fireplace, let the maids patch him up while you get a proper change of clothes and soothing tea as well.

 The servants urge you to go to bed, to be rest assured that when the mysterious lanky cat wakes up they’ll be there to explain everything to him. Yet, you could not let anyone face the burdens of your silly and perhaps bad decision (though some of your employees commented that you could be deemed heroic in a certain lens. “some might even say a tad romantic!” a certain person with a known interest for romance novels added. You dismissed it all.)

You decided to stay the night sitting by the arm-chair next to the couch he laid on, awaiting his clarity while taking a small nap yourself. With a grunt and roll of their eyes,some from amusement and others from worry, they brought a blanket and a pillow and left you be. Next to the lanky, drifted asleep and bad-shape cat that was covered in bandages.

You were expecting at least a decent night’s sleep, since there’d be no way he’d be able to wake up quickly after the day he’s been through.his body would definitely take its time in recovery. What you hadn’t expected, was hearing rustling and shifts in the night, ones you dismissed as servants just shifted around to finish up the last of their tasks, but then hearing creaks, stumbles and the sound of something clunking and shattering on the ground before finally, a creak of a window opening. That is when your eyes immediately opened, and you were met with the cat who was hit with your car tangled up in his own bandages trying to make an escape. You both froze for a moment. Him, being midway out with his escape, his hand still latched on the window, and you, still in your armchair with a frazzled expression.

 “uh…sorry about that….” His eyes trail to the ground.”statue?...” he gives a nervous grin while pointing at the shattered artifact.he then looks up and gives a nervous chuckle. “and the torn drapes.” He then looks around again and winces. “annnnd the shattered vase.”

 After that failed attempt to escape seemed futile, you brought him back in and briefly explained the situation. Rocky told you his side of the story- though, with a few skipped parts and avoiding to get into details about what specifically failed so spectacularly in his task to retrieve some booze.

You talk for a little while, giving some small brief summaries about who you are and what you do, and gleefully answering some silly questions Rocky had about your status. You found yourself enjoying your talk with Rocky, talking to someone who's so incredibly lively. You've been around soulless businessmen for so long that you almost forgot what it’s like to actually speak to a person, to forget about status and money, to not read between the lines of every sentence someone utters. You finally felt like yourself for a moment, like something about Rocky’s eccentricities and unhinged nature has rejuvenated your soul.

 Yet, as Rocky looks back at the clock, he quickly gets up to leave, needing to go back to his work before anyone assumes he’s dead. You tried to convince him to stay a while longer, to sleep for the night so he can heal up. yet he didn’t falter. He quickly put on his coat and hat, looking at you with a charming smile. He tilts his hat, giving a small bow before graciously saying goodbye.

What he hadn’t noticed, was that your eyes trailed his clothing for a moment and noticed something intriguing. Something that could hint at where he truly works at. A small pin, in the shape of a club.

  After that, a few weeks have passed by before you decide to finally visit. Your main reason was to just make sure he’s  okay and that his injury has finally healed up. yet a part of you knew that you were also deeply curious about him, and had felt the urge to know more about his life. Perhaps, he’ll rise the ranks like you did. Or maybe just like old co-workers of yours at the bootlegging game, he’ll get himself into deep trouble.

Nonetheless, you visited the Lackadaisy speakeasy. The place you heard a cacophony of rumours and chats about, yet never visited it yourself. The empty mine with dark lights engulfed in the room left a lot to be desired. something was missing, something crucial that was holding the whole place up together. The very few guests that were there however, were noneother than the wife of Atlas May and…

  “…Wick Sable?!”

Wick chokes on his drink, tail frizzing up in distress as his ears perk up and take a note of the familiarity of that voice. He coughs out the drink he was meaning to enjoy (even if it’s taste wasn’t really in the highest of tiers in terms of ‘enjoyable’), looking at you with a stressed smile. “ah…L/n..what an unexpected surprise.”

Depending on your relationship with Wick, this interaction could go in three ways. If you're good friends, he’d have to suffer a bit with both your teasing and Mitzi's about not telling you about his frequent trips here. If you're mere acquaintances, then though he’d have to suffer only  Mitzi's teasing about him being so secretive about his visits, he’d still be forced to explain his relationship with the place to you over a few drinks. If you’re known to be rivals or enemies, well, not only would he be utterly displeased by the idea of you finding his go-to bar, but what would irk him more would be how Mitzi will try to make you a regular patron around here. often shutting up any sort of jab or retort Wick has to your musings and letting you have control over the conversation.

 As you start getting accustomed to the ambiance of the mine and the piercing galre of the bartender, the man of the hour-well, your hour, at least, comes in. this time with his suit only a tiny bit ruined by dirt and tears, but still not as bad as his awful state when you first found him.

His eyes beam when he sees you, and he immediately starts flirting with lines of poetry and song while he shoves the cart of illicit beverages he found into a small orange cat;s hands and takes the abandoned violin that was on the bar counter to strum up a tune.

Everyone expected him to be flat out rejected, to be ignored and maybe even weird out the new patron. But low and behold, the new patron merely giggled and smiled, matching his playful energy and cheeky jokes.

Safe to say, everyone’s jaw was dropped, while Rocky himself was beaming with joy and pride.

After that, you’ve become a regular at the speakeasy.often visiting the place to mainly speak with Rocky and develop a nice friendship with him. 

Your conversations with him were always insightful, since he was the very clear opposite of you. While you were known in society for your calm demeanour in different matters (often preferring to panic in the inside rather than out.), Rocky was known to be loud and spontaneous. No one knew how on earth you two got along so well, but you somehow did. He was able to bring charm and joy to a conversation, something that you desperately missed from your old life. While you were able to become the reasonable one in the relationship, often convincing Rocky to avoid causing some disastrous chaos that would’ve left the speakeasy in shambles.

Rocky’s clumsiness and acts of chaos has left him with more injuries and broken things than he can count. It’s something that you took note of immediately, and whenever you’d see his clothes, your heart would often ache for him. But you knew Rocky. You knew he wouldn’t accept something you bought with your own money, that though he’d act grateful, he’d somehow make some gleeful excuse to try to avoid taking it. And so, you’ve decided with the help of a few delivery boys to send these gifts to him anonymously instead. 

Now, though in everyone else’s eyes, Rocky doesn’t look changed at all, the keen observer would notice his new and clean clothes, and his violin of fine-quality and craftsmanship.

You’d often rant about your job with Rocky. Especially when you had had enough drinks in your system to forget the poised and strong demeanour you must uphold. Ever since you reached the top of the board, you’ve become a fish out of water. You cannot relate nor have any sort of fun with the people you’re often forced to speak with. Especially since the people in question are known to be incredibly judgemental and gossip-obsessed.Rocky would always hear your whines and try to cheer you up with a song, or maybe a funny story he can tell about another dangerous and concerning adventure he had for the day. Since he noticed how you always smile when he rambles on and on, and though you often give him a concerned glance, you never stop listening to him with a smile.

Another way you try to help Rocky is by helping the speakeasy itself, since you know how much it means to him. You sponsor the place and try to help Mitzi when she’s in any sort of financial difficulty, and you try to strum up some business by making your clients and fellow businessmen have meetings in the speakeasy.

This has created a sort of conundrum for the guests you bring. Because unknown to their own knowledge, they're often the same people you rant about all the time to Rocky. And so, Rocky always has the urge to somehow scare and intimidate them with his insanity. He treats them just as he treats Wick, sometimes even worse. He jabs, he nudges and he pretty much freaks them out when you’re too distracted talking about the business at hand to even notice his actions. And the worst part is, whenever you do look up, Rocky immediately stops his actions and gives you a charmed smile and innocent wink. As if he’s been as innocent as an angel the entire time. 

After a while, it didn’t take long for your maids to realize that Rocky wasn’t just some simple friend to you, but in fact, someone you’re into. And they made this theory of theirs become known to you when they suddenly start asking for details about your day at the speakeasy, specifically your hangouts with Rocky. You try to deny it at first, but you couldn’t help but admit that something about Rocky was different from others. To you, your friendship with Rocky was an entirely new and incredible experience, an experience that you cherish deeply, and…you wouldn’t mind for it to become something more.

So,you start initiating the flirtations, ones that Rocky immediately answers back with equal amounts of enthusiasm. Slowly but surely, your hangouts have become dates, and your rants have become more personal.

soon enough, and in the other’s point of view, shockingly so, you two have become a couple. An incredibly cheesy one at that.

 For a moment, everyone thought perhaps this was a sugar baby type of situation. That was until they all wondered what on earth could their lackluster bootlegger and not-half-bad violinist Rocky Rickaby offer in the sugar baby aspect of it all? they all came out with an utterly empty answer. However, though the relationship was far from such a thing, it doesn’t mean you don’t like showering Rocky with gifts all the time. Especially since you firmly believe he deserves at least some sort of nice luxury in his life. You’d often try to do the same old trick of anonymously gifting them, but he has caught you once in the act, and with a bountiful amount of kisses has convinced you to drop the whole act.

Rocky may at first be in somewhat of a denial for such attention. Though he will gawk, be giddy and awe-struck about the amount of gifts he is receiving, a part of him would also somehow feel guilty for it. like he doesn’t deserve such nice things in life. it’s a guilt that you quickly scold him for, and as punishment by even more gifts for him than before.

Though you are of high-status, both you and Rocky still prefer dates in the dark streets of Mississippi rather than any luxurious restaurant. You once tried to go to one  of course, but the night has ended with the kitchen going on fire and Rocky somehow freeing all the lobsters from their tanks. Nevertheless, it was still a great night, one where you couldn’t help but laugh in pure freedom because you felt all the societal pressure in your shoulders wash away. It didn't matter who the guests were in that restaurant, it was of no importance what they whispered about you or your partner whom you wouldn’t trade for the world. All that mattered was you and Rocky, dancing under the stars as rain started to pour.

Teasing Wick has become a mutual activity for you two. An activity Mitzi even joins in from time to time. Lord knows how many jabs Wick has to put up with whenever you both are at the speakeasy at the same time (which unfortunately for him, is quite the common occurrence.) it’s gotten to the point where whenever he sees you two together he gives out an exhausted sigh and asks Viktor to give him a stronger drink.

There are times where Rocky wonders if he’s worth it. times where the stink eyes and glances of high society get in his head a bit and he wonders if he’s truly worth all the reputational risk you’re putting yourself through. Those are the times where you must quickly go against such negative thoughts, to grab his hands and tell him firmly that he’s worth more than anything to you. though it never truly diminishes his insecurity in the matter, it does help lower it down.

You’re absolutely horrified and livid when you realize he’s living in his car. It’s something your heart breaks at and you quickly urge him to just come live with you instead. You have plenty of room to spare and would absolutely adore having him around. It’s an offer you wouldn’t let him say no to, no matter how hard he tried. You even offer to buy a house for him, if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of living with you. He quickly denies having such a thought, and in the end, he moves into your mansion.

Some maids are weirded out by him while others are a bit fearful. But they quickly learn to accommodate him, especially since he’s always bringing you into a better and happier mood. Hell, you even renovated one of the rooms to be his own workshop of sorts where he can write his poems. He never really uses it, preferring to work on his ideas with you beside him instead, but he does put some sizable amount of things in there. things he has definitely brought from his cluttered car.

Even though everyone had their fair share of surprised reactions when they finally found out you were dating, it was Aunt Nina who was the most shocked of all. she never believed Rocky could find a normal partner..let alone one that’s known for their wealth and successful businesses such as yourself. She even once wondered if Rocky has used some sort of devil witchcraft to steal your heart.

There are often times where both of you tend to falter, tend to become incredibly silent after a conversation that went wrong. You both have so many secrets you can’t share, so many thoughts and feelings that are hard to describe, let alone explain where they came from.Rocky admires you, he truly does. Because he knows you’ve worked hard for your status in the world, and that it’s normal for wealthy people to have secrets of their own. You are the same, you respect him, and know that his life wasn’t the most simple nor easiest. Yet both of you cannot help but sometimes get frustrated by the other for keeping important things a secret. You more than him, you will admit. You can’t help it. You don't want him to be in danger. But knowing how strange and unhinged his luck is, you’re certain he’s bound to get into deep trouble if he doesn’t find someone to help him. And that’s when you ask him, why can’t that someone be you? Why can’t he rely on you when he needs it? You’re not a simple person, you have more than enough resources and money to protect both you and him from any problems.

and that is when he asks why can’t you be more open to him,yet ask him for such an act? He knows very little about your family life, and there are times you skip a few stories and relationships you had with certain people you rant about. He has noticed, he just never spoke about it.and then, a chilling silence takes over the room. And you both need time to collect your thoughts before you talk.

In the end, you both reach out for each other at the same time and talk things out, and though you both know talking about each other’s past will take a lot of time and trust, you’re willing to wait for it, and will never forget that you’re by each other’s side for when you’re in need of help.

Though you both are an unexpected match for sure, that doesn’t falter the endless love and admiration you have for each other.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Daddy

Debut: Daddy Long Legs

Yeah, I'm going to be saying "Daddy" a lot in this post. Sorry. I don't like him in that way! It's ok if you do, though. He's a very charming fellow!

Perhaps you remember Daddy Long Legs (game), from like 2014! I suddenly remembered it. And I smiled. It is silly! If you don't know, it is an extremely simple mobile game where the goal is to control Daddy's legs carefully, tapping to move each leg at a time. Like QWOP! Remember QWOP? Daddy Long Legs is simpler, but 100% more Creaturetastic!

So. Let's discuss the Creature of it all. Daddy himself! A sort of fuzzy cube, with two very long, sort of fuzzy legs. The description of the game confirms that he is indeed a two-legged spider! And various costume descriptions give us some more delightful insight. For example, he is covered in Wool, specifically. On that note, he likes to sneak around while dressed as a sheep. Would you be fooled if you saw a farm animal slinking around on two legs? You'd probably think "That's Just Chicken". Daddy also has no teeth and can only intake liquid food, just like a real spider! But in his case, this is exclusively yogurt. #DairyDaddy

I think it's great when such a simple game finds a way to add in character and even lore! None of this was necessary at all, and the silly costumes would speak for themselves, but we are instead given the privilege of learning what an endearing, yet pathetic guy Daddy is!

Have you fallen for him yet? He sure has fallen for you! Oh wait, he just fell independently of your presence. But I'm sure it'll be for you someday. Chin up, champ!

As long as I am talking about daddy longlegs, I would love to mention what a wacky name it is. Maybe the name was first given by a baby one to its father. Maybe it even had two dads, and one of them had longer legs than the other, so that was his name! Daddy Longlegs. Gay Bugs Lore! But the real wackiness is that it refers to THREE different arthropods: there are the harvestmen, which to me are the "true" daddy longlegses. Basically an orb with long legs. More leg than daddy, those guys! And not actually spiders! Cellar spiders, though, ARE true spiders, and also get referred to with the funny name. They're living in your basement, right now! Daddies in your area! Lastly, silliest of all is that CRANE FLIES get the daddy longlegs treatment too. I guess I can see it from looking at them, but it's funny seeing them with these two spindly arachnids! At least it's better than people thinking they're big mosquitoes.

Final Fun Fact! Harvestmen, unlike spiders, CAN chew and swallow solid food. I learned this by seeing some eating a discarded apple chunk along with some isopods! A decomposition party!

[freyito]

How about Argenti with a GN reader that gets sick easily?

(ex: crying can cause them to get sick the next day, etc.)

✭ pairing(s): argenti x gn reader

✧ a/n: this one is really cute!! im a freak for writing my favorite goobers taking care of reader no matter the circumstances. if we couldnt tell. (GOD REACHED DOWN AND GRABBED ME BY THE THROAT AND MADE ME SICK WHICH SPURRED ME ON TO FINISH THIS FIC ((i am also fighting MAD burnout so. i apologize in advance just incase.))

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff :3, not proofread

✎ wc: 1.7k

ꜰᴇᴀʀ ɴᴏᴛ

Argenti is used to this. Coming home to you, cuddled up in bed voice raspy and body too warm yet too cold at the same time. Even waking up to you simply feeling miserable, tugging at his arm to get you some water. He doesn’t mind it, not one bit. He has always enjoyed taking care of you, even when you didn’t need it. He doesn’t mean to coddle you, but sometimes the honor of taking care of you overwhelms him.

However, you’ve been getting sick easier lately, and it has him worried. Rather than the usual offenders (cold weather, idiots who didn’t understand what a mask was, and many such cases), all you had been doing was… working. So, why were you so miserable when Argenti came home?

You were practically trapped in bed, every time you stood up your head started spinning. Your throat felt like hell, all scratched up and painful, making your voice deeper and gravelly. It was a constant battle between you and your blankets, one minute you’re way too hot for them, the next, you couldn’t bear to be without the blanket. Ultimately, you chose to stay wrapped up in the blanket, seeing as the shivers never stopped.

When Argenti came home, he found you, quite obviously, stuck in bed, watching some cheesy romance movie you didn’t even put on. You were in and out of consciousness, letting the streaming service auto-play movies and shows. Somewhere along your little horror marathon, the algorithm lost track of the original memo and now you were stuck with some sparkly male protagonist pining after his love interest in the silliest of ways. He kinda reminded you of Argenti. Or perhaps that’s because Argenti was standing in front of the TV, in the perfect position where he was covering the MC entirely, yet the character’s aura of sparkles framed your knight perfectly. Or maybe it was Argenti himself. It was hard to tell with your fizzled out mind.

“My love! Oh, it’s happened again,” He sighs, yet his voice sounds almost ecstatic. “Have you eaten well? Drank water? Maybe some apple juice or orange juice will help?”

He prattles on about ways to make you feel better, or at least soothe the discomfort you're in, while immediately starting on chores. He doesn’t even take off his armor before he’s throwing clothes into a laundry basket. Even then, he doesn’t take long to come back to your side after throwing the clothes in the washer. He’s got a big, loveable smile on his face as he does so, resting the back of his hand on your forehead, then drifting to your cheek.

“Would you like me to draw a bath, dear? Would that help?” His voice is oh-so-gentle. You don’t have the heart to say no, even if you took one earlier. Regardless, you don’t even get to answer before he’s off once more. You cozy up in the bed for another minute as you listen to the sounds of water running in the other room, and Argenti’s muffled humming.

As much as you hated being sick, and how often you got sick, you can’t deny that Argenti’s enthusiasm helps you a little. At least mentally. The fact that he’s always been so ready to take care of you without a word of protest has been comforting. Even with all he’s been tasked with, he never seems more proud of his work than he does with you.

He comes back in all too happy, scooping you up in his arms without another word. It’s like clockwork for him, treating you like royalty in general. He does the same even if you aren’t sick, taking his time to take care of you and pamper you in any way possible, even in the domestic ways. He would do this even before dressing his wounds if he were to come back with any. Nothing stops him.

The bathroom smells of lavender, an opened bag of epsom salt on the counter. Argenti sets you on the counter with a humble smile. He leans over the bathtub, finally taking off one of his gauntlets and dipping his hand in the water to make sure it isn't too hot. He pulls his hand out and shakes off the water, before turning back to you, holding out his hand to help you off the counter.

He begins to take off your clothes, gently and reverently. There are no lingering touches, no traces of embarrassment as he does so. Once you are naked, he presses a kiss to your forehead and ushers you into the bath. You settle in nicely, the warm water a balm against your skin. Though you were sweaty and so damn hot, it felt infinitely better. You don't know what made this bath feel so much better than the one that you took, but you simply chalked it up to Argenti’s making.

You sink deeper into the bath, til the water is up to your chin. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, the steam helping to clear your nostrils. For once it feels like you can breathe, and lord, is it heavenly. Sure, the scratch in your throat is still there, but it doesn’t feel as significantly damning as it did before. You feel yourself relax, the fuzziness in your head lessening. You can’t help but let out a groan of satisfaction as you allow the water to wash away your woes, or what it could, at least.

It was so comfy that you could practically fall asleep in the bath, running your fingers over the texture of the bottom of the bath just to keep yourself awake as you fight your own consciousness.

“May I come in?” Argenti’s voice breaks you out of your drowsiness, and you catch a glimpse of his hair through a very small crack in the door. You give him a groggy ‘yes’, and he walks back in with a clean pair of clothes for you. He sets them on the counter, before kneeling down next to you in the tub. “I changed the sheets on the bed for you, and the blanket is in the dryer…”

“Mh, thank you,” You mutter, closing your eyes as he places his hand on the top of your head.

“Can I ask what you’ve been doing lately?” His voice holds concern, head tilting to the side.

“Not much,” You shake your head, opening your eyes and looking up at him. You notice now that he has finally shed his armor, wearing nothing but a simple black t-shirt (that fits his body too well), and some sweats. “Just working…”

“I’ve noticed you were working more hours than you’re usually scheduled recently,” He hums, leaning back and taking his hand away from your head. You can’t help but chase after it for a second, sitting back up in the tub. “Perhaps you are working too hard, my dear.”

It is a possibility. Not that you’d mention it. Yes, it’s been a stressful couple of weeks at work, and you swore you had gotten through with it. You did feel like you were working a lot more, but c’mon, you got sick from anything. It couldn’t have been stress, could it? Perhaps you just ran into someone who was sick while working one of your shifts…

Argenti chuckles at your reluctance to admit it, and shakes his head. “It’s alright. I assume it can stay a mystery,” He then stands up, leaning over you once more. “Come on. I don’t want you to prune up in there.”

You groan, yet reach out for his hands, standing up and out of the tub. You’ve never felt so much grief for leaving a bath, though the water was starting to cool down. And while your throat, head, and nose feel better, you can feel the sickness fighting back. You let out an ‘ugh’, unprompted, and Argenti gives you another concerned look, before grabbing a towel and drying you down. He’s a lot quicker this time, though doesn’t neglect to show you the same amount of love as he always has done. Once you are dry, he hastily dresses you, turns around to drain the tub, then picks you up once more.

You groan, yet reach out for his hands, standing up and out of the tub. You’ve never felt so much grief for leaving a bath, though the water was starting to cool down. And while your throat, head, and nose feel better, you can feel the sickness fighting back. You let out an ‘ugh’, unprompted, and Argenti gives you another concerned look, before grabbing a towel and drying you down. He’s a lot quicker this time, though doesn’t neglect to show you the same amount of love as he always has done. Once you are dry, he hastily dresses you, turns around to drain the tub, then picks you up once more.

The bed dips next to you as Argenti climbs in, shuffling closer to you. Then, even closer, throwing his arm around you and pressing a kiss to your forehead, then, after a pause, to your nose, your cheek, then your mouth.

“Stoopppp…” You grumble, pulling your head away weakly. “You’re gonna get siiick…”

“A sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Argenti jokes, placing his hand on the back of your head and tucking it into his chest.

You two stay like that for a while, his fingers fidgeting with your hair as you fall in and out of consciousness once more, languidly stretching an arm over him like he was your teddy bear. Then your leg, to get more comfortable. He stays trapped beneath you, simply watching as you finally end up falling asleep for the upteenth time today. He himself cannot find sleep, too enraptured by the sleeping beauty in his arms, though disheveled and snotty.

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[simplyreveries]

may I request the octotrio buying nuis of each other and making them go on dates? :D

nuis of eachother; octatrio

azul ashengrotto

he is so confused when he sees you suddenly show him little tiny plushies that are the replicas of you two… this must be yet another strange land thing. he curiously takes one from your hands and seems so genuinely surprised. he then gives an amused smile and asks you what gave you the idea to get the two of you something like this? he gives you an inquisitive look “...angelfish, did you make these?” azul does think it is pretty cute.

when he's doing business and work at the mostro lounge and azul finds you putting yours and his nui’s together like they're out on a date at the mostro lounge. he’d look at them and shake his head with an entertained look as you exclaim " they're on a date!”. you pretty much deemed your plush his and his yours, he keeps it in his room sometimes and leaves it neatly on his bed.

though sometimes you intentionally leave the two of your little nui’s in his office somewhere together chilling on his desk or tucked on one of the couches… and he doesn't notice as he's trying to get some poor savanaclaw student to sign a contract with him and sees the student looking at him strangely and wonders why… aksjdhjd

jade leech

jade seems a little surprised at first then gives a low chuckle; he finds the little plushies interesting. he’ll pick them up and look at them himself and wonder how you managed to get your hands on something like these, did you perhaps make them? have them customed made? he seems to be pretty fascinated at the mini replicas.

he’ll have a hand on his chin as he looks curiously at the little set up you put the two of them in, he’ll have this grin on his face as you tell him they're recreating one of your own dates. he'll tease saying if he should make them miniature food to match as well.

he will keep the little nui version of yourself that you gave him, probably on his desk somewhere nicely. jade thinks it's quite cute and can't help but let out some airy laugh as he settles for the night and sees it there.

floyd leech

floyd immediately loves them… he is eager to snatch them from your hands when you show him them and shows a grin exclaiming, he loves the new “little shrimpy”. he's also the one to usually prop them together like they are on a date, he thinks it's the silliest thing. “heheh look, now it's just like the two of us~!”. he sometimes just picks them up and playfully smushes their faces together making stupid kissing sounds.

uses them like a child using toys, he'll randomly pick them up and tell you he's reenacting your first date and do some over the top performance for you, greatly exaggerating how it went. he also tries to mimic your voice a lot.

he also likes the to keep yours on his bed, he sleeps holding it sometimes. though, when he wakes up in the morning its usually fallen onto the floor because i just know he moves around a lot (he has stepped on it at least once). floyd also likes that you have his too on your bed ad well, he says his the plushie will look after you when you're sad without him...!

[lightlycareless]

because why not. I crave a highschool au with naoya. warnings: highschool au. suguru and satoru being annoying af.

Thinking about that one scene where Gojo and Geto are talking about the former’s phone wallpaper, how he just changed it to model Inoue Waka, and in the English dub, calls her hot.

Let’s say that for a moment you manage to overhear a similar conversation while in jujutsu high. The two of them essentially comparing wallpapers of the women they consider “hottest” and what not.

It causes you to grow both insecure, because yes, even when they were insufferable jerks, they weren’t lying when saying that the women they had on their phones are what many consider hot—words you wouldn’t usually describe yourself with, less believe anyone else thought of you.

And curious, because your seemingly one-sided crush on Naoya leads you to wonder if he has the same… habit of putting pictures of women he liked, or at least found attractive, on his home screen, and what it meant for your feelings if that were the case.

So, you take on the mission of getting a glance at Naoya’s phone, which surprisingly ended up being the hardest task you had yet to complete that semester—and all because he was super defensive of his items, especially his cellphone!

Even for the silliest, dumbest type of excuses, like “I need to make a call and I have no service, can I borrow your phone?” does not make him budge.  He just says no to whatever you come up with, and it makes your intrigue grow bigger and bigger the more he denies you!

What is he hiding? Contrary to Satoru and Suguru, is he ashamed of having pictures like that on his phone?

Or maybe…

Does he have those kinds of pictures instead??

Oh, this is even worse than you imagined! Because not only is Naoya wholeheartedly interested in other women, completely different from you—he’s also a big pervert!!

If so, how disappointing… but at the same time, you had no proof to call this as the truth so… you’d continue trying to figure out who he had on his home screen.

And then, the day you found out who held the special place of his phone’s wallpaper finally arrived.

It happened so uneventfully too, probably through the dumbest reasons yet, but you’re not to complain if it gave you the results you sought after.

The way you obtained a glimpse of Naoya’s wallpaper ultimately was because Gojo stole his phone just for that. Yeah. It was that easy. Perhaps you should’ve asked him for help from the very beginning, although the thought of telling him why you needed Naoya’s phone quickly reminded you that you had done right in avoiding him.

 “Changed your home screen again?” Geto asks, looking over to Gojo’s phone, who was quick to show off his screen with a cheeky grin, affirming his observation.

“Newest catalogue—hot, right?”

“If you say so” Naoya says under his breath, seemingly annoyed by their lack of taste or perhaps the crude topic when there were a thousand things more interesting that women (as if he hadn’t done that before).

He intended his comment to be kept solely to himself, but to the troublemakers Suguru and Satoru, this was anything but loud and clear.

“What, don’t think she’s up to your standards?” Satoru would instigate, making the young heir not precisely retract his words, but rather act like he was hearing things.

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, I heard what you say—think you’re above Inoue-chan?”

Naoya cringes at the familiarity in which Satoru refers to a model, of all people…

“I don’t even know her” Naoya rolls his eyes, feigning indifference and hoping to move past this conversation, but it’s well known that once Satoru sets his eyes on a victim, it’s very difficult, if not impossible, to escape his grasps. Naoya marked his fate the moment he joined their conversation.

“Ah, now that’s a lie if I ever heard one” Satoru counters. “So what, don’t have anyone on your phone? Too good for that, hm?”

“What does it matter to you?” he snaps, and this just seems to fuel Satoru even further.

“Then you leave me no choice.”

“What are you—”

With unmatched speed, as expected of the Gojo heir, Satoru grabs Naoya’s arms as his most trusted accomplice understands what’s expected of him and reaches for his pocket, taking out his cell phone.

The look in Naoya’s eyes is one you’d never forget, one that almost made you jump between the two and demand them to leave him alone—but your curiosity was getting the best of you, so you allowed them to continue with their brutish ways. Besides, you intended to console him after getting your answers, just as you always did whenever he felt down, so maybe it wasn’t that… bad…?

“Hey—HEY!” Naoya yelps, tugging and throwing against Satoru’s hold, exhorting his very best to get his phone back—but to no avail, for he could never, no matter the circumstance, beat the strongest sorcerers. That much he should know now. “Give it back!”

“Damn—what the hell do you have in that phone? Porn or something?” Satoru snickers at his reaction, looking back to Suguru. “Just open it already, I want to know who the talented Naoya has as wallpaper.”

You swallow as the anticipation slowly began to kill you.

The moment you were waiting for, the one that made you put in so much effort but always fell short no matter what you did, finally arrived.

It was only a question of lifting the screen and looking at it for your greatest desire (that week, at least) to be granted.

Having curiosity of his own, especially after Naoya’s defensive behavior, Geto hastily grasps the screen by the edges and begins to flip it open.

You swear Suguru was teasing you given the way he slowly opened the phone (he didn’t—you just felt it that way) making your heart jump to your throat, ears ringing while anxiously waiting for Naoya’s secret to finally unveil itself!

Only for your heart to sink down to your stomach when Suguru’s face twists into one of confusion, perhaps even… disgust?

You tried your hardest to not jump and ask what he saw, appear as if you weren’t closely listening to their conversation and give away your interest in Naoya, but his reaction and silence just made it impossible, and without much resistance, you quickly succumb to your curiosity.

“What is—” is all that you manage to muster before Satoru’s shriek quiets you immediately.

“Huh?!” Gojo exclaims “You have her?!”

Who is it?

Who does Naoya have on his phone screen??

Is it someone you know?? Does he like her? No—Does he like that?!?!

IS SHE NAKED as you initially thought??!?!

Aside from the last question, it was safe to say that Naoya did like her, because it was none other than—

“Asuka, from Evangelion?” Suguru asks skeptically, looking back to Naoya, almost as if he didn’t believe his eyes.

“What, got a problem with that??” Naoya frowns, beyond irritated and embarrassed at this point. Satoru releases him.

“None—only that I didn’t think of you as an otaku!” Satoru snorted. “Who would’ve thought that the great heir of the Zen’in liked anime?! How embarrassing!”

“You’re not any better” Suguru murmurs.

“Give me that!” Naoya hisses, abruptly taking the phone out of Suguru’s hands—the latter giving up the item willingly. “And of course you’d laugh, your taste in everything is shit! You wouldn’t know what was good even if it hit you!”

“That’s not true” Satoru smirks “I like anime too—Digimon, you know?”

“Yeah, no one cares.” Naoya frowns, abruptly standing up from his desk and heading towards the exit, presumably to cool off, take out his frustrations in some way, or save himself from further humiliation.

And that was it—you managed to discover who he had on his phone.

As much as you felt bad that Naoya was essentially forced to disclose that fact, you were kind of elated that you got the answer you searched for, and subsequently, knew what it meant for your feelings towards him.

In other words, you had no… physical competition, per say. He could just like that character because she’s funny, cool, or something else, not because he had actual feelings for her!

You can’t help but smile at this thought, for it gave you the clearance you needed to keep harboring feelings for him—although… would he like you better if you knew who she was? Was she from his favorite anime? If so, you had lots of work to do.

For now, you can relax knowing he didn’t like someone from school. At least until he likes you back, of course.

Oh, but if you only knew that he didn’t have Asuka in the beginning.

No, he had someone else entirely, only changing his home screen once he caught up to your intentions, not wanting to show you either—glad he had done so right before Satoru and Suguru got the idea of joining your little crusade (A thing you’d had to clear up if ever given the chance to.)

Maybe you’ll figure out who it was in time. Maybe not. Only fate, and his efforts, can decide that.

But until then, he’ll keep the fact that he had you, as his wallpaper, a secret.

Naoya is a nerd. prove me wrong.

[bunji-enthusiast]

ZARATRAS BF HEADCANONS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

OKAY HERES YOUR FOOD DAYUM /pos (apologies for the shortness, I didn't have a whole lot to go off of trying to understand his character)

He is highly work-oriented and takes on his duties as Holy Knight Grandmaster very seriously, however, Zaratras will always make the effort to ensure he spends his time with you as well. Sometimes it can be exhausting, but well worth it in the end. He cherishes you deeply, and he hopes you know that.

Eventually, he ends up introducing you to his son, Gilthunder. He was unsure if you two were going to get along well, but you took it in great stride and made sure that the pink-haired boy was comfortable with being around you. Gilthunder actually ended up speaking of you very highly when you weren't around, and admitted it only to Zaratras. He was happy to know his son had taken a liking to you, he wouldn't know what to do if you two had ended up disliking each other upon first meet.

Zaratras is a huge sucker for romantic moments, and tries to plan them accordingly as a way to surprise you. Perhaps even as way brighten up your day if you've had a bad one, he only means the good in his intentions.

He likes to take you out on dinner dates, perhaps even lunch dates. Zaratras likes to keep his ideas simple for things such as these, its simple yet an effective way to spend time together. He likes asking you how your day went, and even talks about his own day if prompted. You can see the way he looks at you, full of love and admiration.

This man was the softest and silliest idiot you've ever met, and yet somehow, he's charmed you - and you just couldn't stop yourself from falling in love with Zaratras. Grandmaster he may be, but he was also just so very himself aside from his title. The qualities you've come to learn and see in action, that were apart of him, were so very endearing to you.

He isn't necessarily a materialistic person, and more so shows a way of his affection differently in this matter. Zaratras will insist on buying you your favorite sweets or desserts, he may even try one himself if you seemed to like it so much. There are many ways he loves to spend time with you, but this certainly had to be one of his favorites. Even if he behaved any silly way on these outings, he did that to see you with that cute expression of laughter and the smile on your face.

Gilthunder actually ended up calling you mom/papa on accident before, which had shocked both you and Zaratras. But he was far too cute, and the shock subsided into laughter and smiles because of Gilthunder's accidental saying. The boy blushed and denied the absolute matter of the fact that he said it, trying to defute the fact he did.

[homestuckreplay]

Harlequin Anger vs Jester Ennui - Color as John Egbert’s Emotions

Week 2 Retrospective

John Egbert is the silliest little guy, but we’re starting to see hints of what he’s feeling beneath the surface. Looking at the themes of the comic so far, my current theory is that the colorful elements in the comic are the things that make John feel strong emotions - both good and bad - while the monochrome elements represent what makes John feel bored and frustrated.

Analysis below the cut - about 2,200 words.

‘A familiar note is produced. It's the one Desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune.’ (p.82)

Desolation has two, related meanings - one is loneliness, grief, and lack of companionship, while the other is ruin, emptiness and destruction. The first meaning is John’s current mental state, while the second is the suburb he lives in. The majority of what’s surrounding John is entirely monochrome, and so is John himself. We also learn from the narration on p.82 that ‘something feels missing from [John’s] life’ and that he has a sense ‘not of mirth, but of lack’. I think he spends a lot of time going through the motions - poking at things in his room without settling to anything, wandering up and down the stairs when his dad is occupied - but his life is the same day in and day out, and he struggles to inject any excitement into his life, or even any anger at the situation he’s trapped in. 

I think it’s extremely notable that almost everything relating to John’s family is monochrome. In addition to the house as a whole, the portraits of his dad and nanna are monochrome, as are the gifts and cakes from his dad, the car outside, and most importantly the piano. I don’t think John hates his father, but I think he struggles to connect with him or feel close to him. Ignoring page 72’s peanut ambiguity, the worst we hear about Dad is that he will ‘monopolize hours of [John’s] time’ (p.30) and ‘can be a real cornball’ (p.49), which is a big contrast to him calling Betty Crocker his ‘arch nemesis’ (p.48). 

Therefore, John’s dad is an inconvenience, not a threat. John might know intellectually that his dad loves him - ‘the old man really came through this time’ (p.19), as well as the kind fatherly notes left on John’s birthday presents (p.12, p.55) - but I think he can’t make the leap to actually caring about his dad in return or enjoying his company.

John is a gifted piano player, and gives us a ‘haunting piano refrain’ (p.77). Him being a musician ties back into the act title - ‘the note desolation plays’ uses the language of music, something so often filled with emotion, to describe a lack of it. Given that, of course the piano is monochrome. Perhaps John even sees the piano as the source of his problems, or at least representative of them. 

I noted at the time that it was strange John hadn’t listed piano among his interests when it’s clearly something he’s spent a lot of time on, and now I think it’s something that was taught to him as a kid by either his dad or nanna. He’s good at it, but he’s so disconnected from family life that it no longer brings him any joy, it’s just a hangover from his childhood. ‘Haunting’ makes me think it was his nanna who taught him - now every time John plays, he’s haunted by her memory (or even her literal ghost). Possibly her death is what made John disconnect from the hobby, especially with ‘desolation’ relating to grief.

On page 4, we get our first glimpse of the outside. The blue sky shot through with the brown tree is the largest splash of color in John’s room. The promise of the outside world is extremely colorful, and we know John wants to go there - the window reflected in John’s glasses on page 28 as he grins excitedly is a clear visual indication of that. Yet when we finally see it, the outside isn’t all color - the grass, sky, trees and flowers all are, but the man made aspects such as the driveway, tire swing, and other houses in the neighborhood are gray and dull.

Page 82 gives us the dramatic moment of John removing his clever disguise and gazing up at the sky. It’s the first time we see the sun and the uninterrupted expanse, and it’s framed like it’s significant for John, too. I don’t think it’s literally his first time stepping outside (you can’t tell me his dad didn’t push him on that tire swing as a kid) but I think it’s the moment he realizes that leaving his literal house doesn’t mean he’s not stuck - the neighborhood is just more of the same, and whatever restrictions John’s working within mean he can’t go any further than this. A front yard is legally part of a house, and the reality of the outside doesn’t excite him as much as the idea of it.

And then there’s the clowns. The one aspect of his dad that really gets John going; the harlequin portraits in the hallway and living room that Dad brought back from clown con are bright, obnoxious, and impossible to ignore. Interestingly, the ones in the study are black and white - perhaps John is okay with the clown pictures in the study, because that’s explicitly his dad’s space, but he doesn’t like the ones in the main area, because they make him feel like the house is fully his dad’s, not a shared space they could decorate together. 

This is pure speculation, but I don’t think John has ever moved house. I get the impression that he grew up in this house, which is his dad’s now and was perhaps originally his nanna’s, and has never known a world outside of this specific neighborhood. Because John’s been there since he was born, it’s never crossed his dad’s mind that John might want to, say, put his Little Monsters poster in the living room - hence why that gift was left in John’s bedroom, while the harlequin doll is allowed to be downstairs. 

Speaking of John’s room, it’s definitely not an oasis of color within the house. In our first shot of the room, we see six splashes of color, including the outside and John’s shirt - comparable to the living room (six including John’s shirt and hat) and study (five including the outside and John’s hat). A full three of the colorful elements in John’s room are related to Sburb, which in both the visuals and text is the thing John’s by far the most excited about right now, but I’ll circle back around to this. 

John’s magic chest, magician’s hat, blood capsules, and copies of Colonel Sassacre’s and Wise Guy are all colorful too, but other prank elements - fake arms, beaglepuss, handcuffs, sword, smoke pellets) are all monochrome. This one’s tough, but my best guess is that John feels conflicted about his interest in pranks because it’s so similar to his dad’s interest, and perhaps even that the monochrome items are things John’s dad bought for him for past birthdays and holidays, while the colorful ones are things John got for himself. 

John’s shirt is also worth mentioning here. John’s ambivalence with the house extends to himself, and kids often don’t have a lot of control over their appearance. He probably doesn’t choose his own clothes or glasses or haircut, and he definitely can’t go out and get a tattoo of Slimer or anything like that, so it’s very telling that wearing a shirt with a favorite movie on it is the one way John can actually connect to himself. 

That said, all the movie posters in his room are monochrome, which I’ll again circle back to. One exception is the close up of the Problem Sleuth poster (p.11), which is mostly monochrome, but has four kernels of colorful candy corn. I love this detail so much. It’s a fun reference to Hussie’s previous work and suggests that the candy corn gags in Problem Sleuth are John’s favorite part, which feels right for him. I wonder if John will use candy corn for a prank at some point in reference to this game he likes. I also noticed that the menu bar at the top of the web page also contains four kernels of candy corn - is this just because Problem Sleuth is Hussie’s most notable work, or could it be a clue for Homestuck too?

The most colorful and complex elements of the comic so far are the screens. We see John’s computer, which as a physical object is monochrome but which lights up to a brightly colored world of chums, flashing programs, desktop icons and stunning feats of graphic design, including things John loves (Slimer) and things that make him boil with rage (coding). We also get to see a very green tinted TV commercial in the living room, and a full color clip of Con Air linked from page 20. 

All this makes me wonder if John’s list of interests is chronological. First on his list (p.4) is ‘really terrible movies’, and many of his favorite titles are from the 1980s and 90s, meaning he probably grew up with them. I think he still loves watching and discussing them, but - given that movies are a fairly passive medium - just the reminder of them on his wall isn’t enough to take him out of his own head anymore. He then got into programming, the paranormal, magic, and video games in sequence, meaning that the final two are his most active interests right now, and the ones to which the most time and color are devoted. In this way, the casual end to the list ‘You also like to play GAMES sometimes’ reads like intentionally downplaying something that’s actually really important, the sarcasm of ‘sometimes’ revealed later when we learn that John has ‘put countless manhours into this assortment of quality titles’ (p.31).

Unlike the movie posters, most of the games on John’s CD rack are in color, and unlike movies, games can offer an interactive, immersive experience. Games are enticing to John right now because they’re the best escape from a monotonous, suburban life that John has access to. He’s played his current collection time and time again (to the point that Bard Quest and Problem Sleuth have lost their color), and that’s why he’s so desperate for Sburb to arrive, and why the colorful reminders of Sburb are all over his room.

I think there’s a very real question of whether Sburb will live up to John’s expectations. At only one letter away from Suburb, it’s a clear reminder that video games don’t actually take John away from the life he’s stuck in, they’re a cosmetic alteration at best - and if the themes of the game are too close to John’s real life problems, he won’t find that escapism. So while I’d love to see a version of this comic where John finally starts playing Sburb and the whole screen immediately explodes into color, I’m not sure it’ll be that easy.

Finally, there’s the meta elements of the story. The captchalogue card overlay and strife specibus are pink and green respectively, and other elements that pop up (indication of whether or not we’ve got John’s name right, the cake turning blue when selected, the blinking green telling us we can put the poster on the wall, etc) are colorful too. The hammer that John allocates to his strife specibus is monochrome, however, which fits really well with John allocating it on TG’s instructions and not knowing that the allocation is permanent. If he’d known, he would have chosen something he felt more strongly about.

Interestingly, the narrative text is black. I still don’t think we’re directly getting John’s perspective, I think that’s been filtered through a specific narrator who has a voice very different to John’s (based on John’s Pesterchum messages), but I don’t think John has any awareness of this. In contrast, he’s all too aware of his captchalogue deck and the artificial, needlessly complex limitations it imposes, and he visually reacts to us getting his name right or wrong. 

If John were to somehow become aware of the narrative text, and have strong feelings about the way he’s being portrayed (or the fact that he’s being written about at all), perhaps it would change color? After all, when John talks to his friends, each of them has a defined color, perhaps relating to the different relationships he has with each friend, and different emotions arising from that. John doesn’t seem to always like his friends - he gets frustrated at the notifications, and spends his whole conversation with TT already trying to leave - but he still replies and actively engages with them, a massive contrast to how he is with his dad. 

‘His riddle is Absence itself.’ (p.82)

To conclude, I do find it interesting that the brightest colors in the comic are the things that are most natural (grass, flowers) and the things that are most artificial (screens, the abstract concept of the inventory) while everything in the middle is black and white. This fits with the idea of color being about both extremes at once, and the idea that John wants a chance to explore both the real and virtual worlds. 

The meta function of color is to make certain visual elements stand out to the audience and tell us they’re worth paying attention to. From a purely functional perspective, it makes sense that the things most important to John would also be highlighted to us. But given the theme of lack and emptiness, the absence of color is just as important. And as the comic is already playing so much with the meta, I think that’s the most helpful starting point for analysis. 

[elacular-kink]

Hicvember 21: Fav Fandom

Believe it or not, I actually had some trouble figuring out what to write for before I abruptly remembered what my profile pic is.

As I warned you all yesterday, this is, in fact, the silliest shit I've ever written in my life. Bear that in mind before reading.

Content: Pokemon, Non-humanoids with hiccups, Cartoony nonsense, being a furry on main.

The GBC, Galar Broadcasting Corporation, presents Pokemon Earth.

Hiccups

Ashenbough: Hello. I'm Professor David Ashenbough. With me as always is field researcher Steve Rowan.

Rowan: G'day mates!

Ashenbough: And this is Pokemon Earth. Hiccups. All humans experience them. But strangely enough, all Pokemon do as well, despite branching out far beyond the mammalian in nature. To what extent and in what way they experience them is as varied as the Pokemon themselves, so Steven and I will be taking a look at some of them today. As always, the first half of our program will feature Pokemon both domestic and wild who have agreed to be on the show, while the second half will feature...attempted candid shots of Pokemon in their natural habitats.

Rowan: Now let's get right into–HICCUP!–it!

...

Ashenbough: Here we see a nest of Marill and Azumarill. Though this stream looks placid, beneath the surface the water runs swift and roiling. In spite of this, you can see these water mice and rabbits swimming upstream and playfully splashing both one another and our hapless camera people.

A POV camera is swum up to by a Marril which then turns around and uses its large, round tail to splash water on the camera.

Rowan: That's 'cause this lovely blue fur of theirs produces natural oils that repel water, making it easier for them to swim through currents, or even bounce along the river's bed! Now! Speaking of bouncing, we have here a nice little group of bubblers and some very very spicy pokeblocks. Here you go, little mates!

A group of Marill and Azumarill gather and nibble at the pokeblocks. Though some immediately run off, others start eating even more quickly.

Ashenbough: Hmm. It seems we have a few here who take quite well to this spiciness.

Rowan: Careful with those ones. Pokemon who like spice tend to be on the strong side! Now remember, even friendly Pokemon like these little guys can be dangerous. And the Marill family specifically is one you don't wanna underestimate! You never know when one of these round little fellas is actually hiding some huge power!

One Azumarill pauses in its eating, then squeaks loudly, bouncing up into the air as it does.

Rowan: Whoa! And speaking of huge power! You okay, little guy?

The Azumarill nods, though it's rapidly bounced again.

Rowan: These fellas got lungs that can hold onto air for hours at a time, so makes sense they got some powerful diaphragms to go with it! And this big girl seems like she knows the move Bounce pretty well! Not surprising, since they can learn it before they get tough enough to evolve.

Ashenbough: While the stronger Azumarill demonstrates her admirable elasticity and buoyancy, the Marills which have not yet trained enough to evolve demonstrate a far less chaotic but no less cute reaction.

The camera focuses in on a pair of Marills, both of which are hiccuping small clusters of bubbles, though one is still trying to eat more pokeblocks around them.

Rowan: Cute, it's true! But be careful! Not all bubbles are safe to pop. You can tell that this little guy's actually using bubblebeam 'cause his are glowing, but his friend's here should be safe.

Rowan pops the bubble over one Marill demonstratively, then steps back before throwing a rock at one of the glowing bubbles, which pops loudly, causing one Marill to jump into the water while the other continues eating. Even from under the water, bubbles rise up at regular intervals.

...

Ashenbough: That a mammalian Pokemon such as the Marill family can catch the hiccups is perhaps not all that surprising. More unusual are hiccups in those who more closely resemble reptiles.

Rowan: Here we've got a pair of performers from one of Galar's most popular Pokemon-fronted bands, Eddie and Michael the Toxtricities!

A pair of Toxtricity, one Amped, and one Low Key are visible. The Amped one is mugging for the camera as it chows down on bright red pokeblocks, while the Low Key one is lounging back on a couch, lazily tossing pokeblocks into the air and catching them in its mouth. The Low Key one is the first to start hiccuping, looking mildly surprised as its chest starts jolting and the four protrusions vibrate, creating the sound of a bass guitar. The Amped one sneers at the Low Key one, audibly laughing at it.

Rowan: Now, even though Low Keys are calmer, you oughta be careful around both types of Toxtricity. Just 'cause they aren't mad about it doesn't mean that a Low Key isn't liable to pick a fight. At least if an Amped one wants to fight, they'll let you know about it!

Ashenbough: Eddie clearly sees this as some sort of competition, though Michael doesn't seem interested in rising to the bait. With each of his hiccups, you hear the characteristic low register sound of a Low Key Toxtricity, greatly resembling the strum of a bass guitar. As it is now, those noises seem to have convinced Eddie that he's won, but hubris isn't always befitting of a rock star.

Abruptly, the Amped Toxtricity's laughter is cut off by a loud hiccup that judders the protrusions on its chest, making the sound of a wailing, screeching electric guitar. It begins rapidly hiccuping and making more screeching guitar sounds, and the Low Key Toxtricity smirks and chuckles between its own hiccups.

Ashenbough: Although both band members have their part in this duet, you would be forgiven for mistaking it for a solo by Eddie. As is often the case between strong egos, a performance of Dueling Guitars is never out of the question.

The Amped Toxtricity leaps at the Low Key one, which seems perfectly happy to indulge him in a fight, the two hiccuping loudly as they grapple, electricity and visible sweat spitting out of them as Rowan backs quickly away.

...

Ashenbough: Still in the realm of performance, we were approached by a friendly Mr. Mime who wanted some time in the spotlight herself, but refused our offer of pokeblocks.

A kantoan Mr. Mime is miming holding a bowl and rapidly stirring something in it. She then pours the invisible batter into nothing, mimes holding a baking pan and opening an oven before placing it in and crossing her arms, her foot tapping.

Rowan: What a talent she is! Mr. Mimes are tricksy, so you can never be sure whether they're doing their act, or if they've actually summoned up something invisible to work with, so never take the space in front of one for granted.

The Mr. Mime's ear twitches despite no obvious sound and she grins, opening the "oven" and reaching in before yanking her hand out and shaking it. She goes through a whole rigamarole of putting on "gloves" to get the "pan" and using "tongs" to remove the invisible nothing inside of it, blowing on it, and then popping it into her mouth. After chewing and swallowing, she stands still for a second, then jolts violently, her mouth opening and closing, but no sound coming out. She covers her mouth and jerks again, then a third time.

Ashenbough: It seems that our spicy pokeblocks weren't needed in this case. Although...it does beg the question. Steven, do you think that she actually has the hiccups?

The camera shows the Mr. Mime holding her breath and jolting before she exhales, pauses for a long second, then silently spasms again with a look of shock.

Rowan: ...honestly not sure, mate.

...

Ashenbough: And now we switch to our second segment. For the most part, we attempt to film wild Pokemon behaving candidly and do not try to interact with them. Here you'll see examples of Pokemon catching hiccups in their everyday lives without the assistance of extra spicy pokeblocks. Onto pre-filmed segments featuring Steve Rowan, with my commentary overlaid.

...

Rowan: Now here we see a Snorlax in her natural habitat: someplace that's as inconvenient as possible for her to be.

A Snorlax is visible in the middle of a bridge, currently lying on her stomach and yanking huge fistfuls of kelp and other river detritus out of the water and cramming them into her mouth.

Ashenbough: Nobody knows what draws Snorlax to areas that tend towards high foot traffic. There's a decent possibility that it's just where they're most often seen, for obvious reasons. Whether or not they prefer to be in the way, though, that's frequently where they end up.

Rowan: Now, maybe you look there and say "Arceus, that's a big girl!" And you're not wrong about that, but this lady's actually a bit on the petite side. We'll see if she's just got an unusually empty tummy or if she's just a dainty little thing once she's done having supper.

Ashenbough: Those of you familiar with this particular river might believe that this Snorlax's growth could be stunted by pollution, but while that is a problem the local environment is still dealing with, for Snorlax, it's no issue at all. A Pokemon that needs to eat nearly its body weight in food every day can't afford to be picky, especially with a body as weighty as a Snorlax, so their extremely omnivorous stomachs can handle even the most toxic of poison types, though they prefer food that isn't inclined to fight back.

Rowan: Hey editors, you'll probably wanna fast forward this part a Bergmite. When a Snorlax is asleep, the only thing you have to worry about is getting around the big bugger, but when it's awake and eating, any smart trainer'll stay the heck out of their way.

There's a brief montage of Rowan and various camera people fishing, getting B roll, and having a small Pokemon battle while the Snorlax continues eating in the background before the montage is abruptly stopped by a loud noise from the Snorlax.

Cameraperson (offscreen): What was that?

Ashenbough: It seems that a Snorlax's iron gut may not be quite immune to all ills.

The camera focuses on the Snorlax, who has stopped eating with a slight look of confusion. With a loud, deep grunt, she wobbles on top of her stomach, then does it again.

Rowan: Whoops! Looks like the sheila ate a little too fast there. Do we think she's gonna learn a lesson from it?

The Snorlax wobbles with a few more hiccups, then goes back to devouring from the river, still bouncing but ignoring them.

Rowan: Nope! Right back to work!

Ashenbough: Whether her hiccups were a factor in her decision we can't say, but it wasn't long after she caught them that this petite giant chose to go back to sleep. It seems that hiccups are one status effect that the move Rest can't cure.

The Snorlax lays on her back, still in the middle of the bridge, Snoring loudly and her massive gut bouncing with huge hiccups every few seconds.

Rowan: Like I said, once they're sleeping, they get so deep in that it's safe to even climb on 'em. Some people and Pokemon even like bouncing on their bellies. But in this case...

Rowan climbs up the Snorlax's arm, then hops onto her stomach between hiccups before being thrown into the air by her next hiccup. This happens a few times before he falls off on the same side he climbed up, looking mildly dizzy, but laughing.

Rowan: You might get a little more bounce than you bargained for!

...

Ashenbough: Many wouldn't expect an abandoned casino to be a place worth searching for Pokemon, but there are a large number of reasons it could be worth looking through.

Rowan: Right. If we find any ghosts of people's paychecks here, they might be on the nasty side, so we're gonna want to stay quiet and approach carefully if we approach at all.

A strange electrical sound is audible and Rowan motions for the camera people to be quiet. They slowly move in between old slot machines until they see a group of Porygon and Porygon2 all surrounding a single Porygon-Z whose head is repeatedly bouncing and spinning with noisy electrical hiccups.

Rowan (sotto voce): Ah! It's a zip of Porygons! You never see this many of 'em in most places, but since they're artificial and not found in the wild, unscrupulous casino runners would use 'em as prizes to keep people coming back.

Ashenbough: Porygon are not able to reproduce sexually, and the copy protection all members of the line share stops them from being replicated while inside of a computer, but just like every other Pokemon, if one encounters an accommodating Ditto...

The camera pans, showing that one of the Porygon2s has a set of beady black eyes instead of round googly ones.

Ashenbough: Life...finds a way.

Rowan (sotto voce): That middle one's looking like it's havin' some trouble there. What's it doing, is that...hah. I think it has the hiccups! Hey, make sure you get a shot of that!

The Porygon-Z continues hiccuping, its head flipping and tumbling with every hiccup as it waggles its arms and tail angrily. One of the Porygon2s moves forward and pokes its "chest" with its bill, at which point the Porygon-Z violently pecks its head.

Ashenbough: Perhaps it's not so surprising that a Porygon-Z, exposed to dubious programming as it has been, has more than a few glitches and idiosyncrasies in its behavior. Although, even from the simply-coded start of its line, Porygon have always had their quirks.

Rowan (sotto voce): Now remember, none of these little guys actually likes being on film. We're getting real lucky here, so let's—

There's a loud clunk and then the sound of spinning slots. The camera whips around and catches a glimpse of a snickering Haunter with its hand on a slot machine's arm before it fades away. Rowan yelps and something is bleeped out as the camera turns back around, briefly showing all the Porygons staring at them before static fills the screen and a set of Unown reading "TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES?!?" appear.

Ashenbough: This...is not a graphic that we made. That is, in fact, what was recorded by the camera until Rowan and his team left the casino a few minutes later.

The image futzes back in, showing a cameraperson adjusting the lens, then nodding before it's pointed at and focused back in on by Rowan, who has a Porygon on his arm.

Rowan (sotto voce): Well, seemed the little prankster back there managed to scare the hiccups out of the Porygon-Z, so they weren't too mad at us. Still, little guys are pretty camera-shy. This friendly fellow decided to let us get a good look though!

Ashenbough: You may recognize this footage from our episode on artificial Pokemon, so no need to use any more of it here. After all, our previous hiccuper was apparently cured by our ghostly interloper.

...

Ashenbough: Pokemon are mysterious creatures. Diverse in appearance, type, egg group, gender, nature, and just about every other way, there are many things about them that we'll never know.

A Falinks is shown marching along. The leader bounces with a hiccup, and then all five of its followers bounce in turn as they walk past the same spot.

Rowan: Do they actually all have the hiccups, or are they just following the Brass?

Ashenbough: Some things that bring one creature strength—

A Bellibolt is shown hiccuping, bouncing up and down as the hiccups expand and contract its body, visibly building up electricity in its stomach.

Ashenbough: —could be absolutely devastating for another.

A Primarina is seen singing on a stage before suddenly hiccing up a cluster of bubbles. They cover their mouth with their fins, hiccup again, and then dive into the fountain on stage behind them, vanishing.

Ashenbough: But even with all our differences, humans and Pokemon alike, there are some things that bring all of us together, even something as inconsequential as a hiccup.

A shot of Rowan and Ashenbough has Rowan staring expectantly at him. Ashenbough arches his eyebrows at him.

Ashenbough: No Steve, I'm not going to hiccup for you.

Rowan heaves a comically overwrought sigh, then smiles at the camera.

Rowan: Guess that's still my job then. Right! Until next time, mates! This has–HICCUP been Pok–HIC–mon Earth!

Brought to you by the GBC.

[mediocrecowboyhat]

Set in sand - Chapter 14

We mark the year 1934 and a peculiar journal falls into your hands. It's telling the tale of an outlaw and the downfall of a gang. Some pages are torn and others are downright unreadable, but nevertheless, you are still able to make out some parts of the tragic story.

With the help of a certain time traveler friend of yours, will you be able to save the author of the journal or will you be the cause for his demise?

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Word count: 3872

TW: end-game spoilers will be mentioned very early on in the story, 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, violence, gore, death, misogynistic themes (anything that happens in the game as well), she/her pronouns, this chapter has an animal dying in it in case you're a bit sensitive to that

Two weeks have passed now since the incident with the O'Driscolls and things have gone back to how they used to be. Except for your friendship with Arthur that is. It's not a too noticeable change, but there has definitely been a shift in the dynamic between the two of you.

You can feel it in the fleeing, yet lingering touches. How his knuckles would brush over yours when he passes you or how the tips of his fingers would apply a soft pressure on your skin, leaving the spot feeling as if it's on fire afterwards.

You can see it in his blue orbs when they'd meet yours over the camp fire. How you'd lock eyes with each other while standing on opposite sides of camp or how his gaze searches for yours whenever you're close by.

All these small acts leave a warm sensation in your chest that has you grinning like an idiot. At times you'd feel like an absolute buffoon, because he only has to say one word to you and you'd be floating on clouds.

"Jesus, get a room.", Sadie would snarl annoyingly, but at the same time jokingly, whenever she catches you smile the silliest of smiles.

Even now you can't go one day without talking to the outlaw. You cross the camp to walk over to the pier where he's sitting at and scribbling away in his journal. You can't help but wonder what he's writing in there or perhaps it's another drawing. Is it about you perhaps?

"Look who's all better.", you call out to him and lean against one of the posts keeping the wooden structure standing. "I suppose I can't talk you into resting for another week."

Arthur closes the journal and takes his hat off, placing it in his lap. His calloused hands fidget with it, fingers tracing over the rim.

"Nah, can't do. I got work to do, stealin' family jewels and such.", he answers with his lips curled up into a half smile.

"Of course you do." Your gaze wanders over to the river. The large body of water is a constant reminder of the decision you made a while ago.

For a short time you were worried that you might regret chucking Francis' device away, but all you feel is relief. Relief and content. There is no responsibility looming over you and with throwing away your return ticket, you have simultaneously gotten rid of your anxiety.

It's refreshing and light as if you had slid a heavy winter coat off your shoulders to welcome the warmth of an upcoming spring with open arms. Or maybe you're just full of shit and have been exaggerating everything this entire time.

"I will actually also be busy today, I'll have you know.", you say and Arthur raises his eyebrows in fake bewilderment.

"Really now? And here I was, afraid that I might have put you out of a job with my recovery.", he says, earning a soft chuckle from you.

"I saw Beau the other day and he invited me for a small chat this afternoon. You're very welcome to join me if you're interested."

He shakes his head and waves it off. "No, I think I'll pass."

That doesn't come as a surprise to you considering how it went last time with the young Gray and his (not so secret) secret love affair. Arthur probably wants to avoid sneaking around and delivering letters again and you don't blame him for that.

"I'll see you this evening then.", you say and he stands up with a low grunt.

The bullet wound must still hurt at least a little bit. He does his very best to hide it, but you can see it in the small things. It's the details, the little cracks and nooks where the truth leaks out, but you also know that he'd rather get his other shoulder shot at as well than to admit it.

Arthur stands before you, his hand twitching, longing for yours. "Try to stay out of trouble."

"I always do.", you respond with a knowing smirk. As much as you actually try to stay out of it, it somehow still finds you as if it's naturally drawn to you.

Just as you are a natural at getting out of it unscathed. Most of the time at least. He returns your smile and nods as he places his signature cowboy hat back on his head. "Sure."

With that you walk over to the hitching posts and get Penthesilea ready for the small trip. You can't wait to ride out with her again. It's been an awfully long time with you not sitting in a saddle.

She greets you cheerfully and you make your way towards the Gray manor. It's a beautiful day today with the sun being so high up and the birds chirping away. Much to your relief, the roads seem to be pretty empty as well as there are no other travellers crossing your path.

Even the Gray residency shows a lack of activity, but you assume that it must be Sean's and Arthur's doing. The sight of the burned down tobacco fields fills you with a grim feeling.

Yes, it is quite the jab against the supposedly rich family, but now the workers are out of jobs as well. You can't imagine that Tavish Gray, the head of the family, would keep them around when there's no use of them anymore.

A sigh escapes your lips as you approach the manor from the front where only one guard is posted this time. It's a surprisingly young lad who can't be a day older than 18. You had no idea that Mr. Gray even employs guards this young.

"I'm here to visit Beau.", you tell him and he studies you through narrowed eyes. He squares up his shoulders as he approaches you slowly, taking in your appearance.

You can't tell where this sudden hostility is coming from or perhaps he's just being too eager. He might be the type who'd want to prove himself to his boss and colleagues, especially at that age.

"Who are you?", he asks in a rather demanding tone and you stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

There was a time where someone like him, holding a rifle like that, would have intimidated you, but not anymore. By now you know that you'd outsling him without a doubt. With a polite smile on your face, you give him your name and hope that Beau has mentioned you and your meet-up to the security. 

"You can find him at the stables."

As you signal Penthesilea to move, the young man lifts his hand and you raise your eyebrow in confusion.

What is it now?

"I need you to leave your horse over there.", he tells you, pointing at the opposite direction and you give him a puzzled look.

"Why?"

Obviously he isn't too fond of your questioning as his nostrils flare up in irritation. "We have some new security measures. Just do as I say, Lady."

His rude tone rubs you the wrong way and as much as you'd love to stay here and argue with him, you know that it would be foolish. You shouldn't get on either family's bad side. Not while Dutch and the others are trying to stay on good terms while exploiting them.

So you do as instructed and leave your Andalusian at the spot he pointed at and go towards the stables on foot. You still remember the layout of the property from your last visit, but it's not too complicated anyways.

After reaching the stables, you spot a familiar mop of brown hair and you lean with both arms against the gate. The wood creaks under your weight and Beau turns around.

His entire face lights up as his eyes fall on you and he stretches out his arms. "You're here!" Then he peeks over your shoulder as if he's searching for something. "I assume our friend didn't want to join us?"

"No, he's busy.", you lie and Beau turns his attention back to the horse he was brushing before your interruption.

"I just have to finish up some things 'round here if you don't mind.", he tells you over his shoulder which makes you shake your head.

"Take your time." You eyes scan the area to make sure no one is eavesdropping. "Listen, what is it with that extra security measure here? The guard at the front entrance was acting like a dick."

At that Beau shrugs. "Hell if I know. My family doesn't tell me what's goin' on most of the time and it's not any different now."

You had hoped to get a better answer from him, but it still doesn't surprise you.

"Must be the tobacco fields.", you mutter to yourself.

It would only make sense to be more cautious after that incident, but then why would they only post one guard? And such an inexperienced one like him as well? The more you think about it, the less sense it makes, but maybe you're just overthinking it.

After all they made Dutch, Bill and Arthur deputies on a drunk whim. That alone tells you that they don't tend to think things through.

"How are things with you and you know who?", you ask, leaving Penelope's name unspoken intentionally.

Everyone and their grandma might already know about the two young lovers, but you still want to at least try to keep it a secret. The sigh Beau let's out doesn't sound too good.

"It's not goin' too well at all after my cousins saw me at the rally.", he answers and the corners of your mouth drop a little.

You can't say that you didn't expect it, but it's nevertheless, sad news. You really like the couple. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's nothin' new. I guess."

Then you hear voices approaching and you exchange wide eyed looks with the young Gray.

Quiet now.

You can't be dropping the Braithwaite woman's name with people around. It doesn't matter whether they're part of the family or ordinary workers. By the sound of it, it looks to be the latter.

"I'm tellin' ya! They all picked up their guns and rode off to town.", one of them says with the raspiness of a dedicated chainsmoker.

The other sounds way smoother in comparison. "But why? Do ya think they'll finally wage war against that damned family?"

All your attention is now set on that conversation. It wouldn't be too big of a twist if the Grays decided to shoot up the Braithwaite manor after all the mischief the gang has caused for them.

"No, no. They said they was meetin' some Yankees at the Sheriff's. To settle a score, they said."

His answer makes your heart drop and you look at Beau with a mortified expression. There are only so many Yankees in this area they could be talking about and you'd bet all your money that they mean yours.

That's when you recall Sean telling you earlier today that he'd go to Rhodes together with Bill and Micah. Beau steps closer to you and you push yourself off the gate.

"I need to leave. Now.", you say, urgency and panic lacing your voice and you turn your head towards where you had left Penthesilea.

She's on the whole other side of the property, but if you run faat enough you could still make it to the others in time. Suddenly reigns are being shoved into your hand, ripping you out of your thoughts.

"Take one of the horses.", Beau says and you give him a grateful look.

Words can't describe your gratitude, but you don't have the time to attempt it anyways. With a nod in his direction, you mount the horse he has given you and signal it to carry you to town at full speed.

Buildings appear in the distance as you race over fields and jump over fences, not even bothering to follow the road like you usually do. Soon you spot the group walking along the main street and notice that it's four of them instead of three.

Arthur is in the back, clearly engrossed in a heated discussion with the others with the way he gestures around with his arms. Of course that moron is here as well. It seems as if he always manages to get the front row seat to whatever danger is presenting itself at the moment.

"Boys!", you yell at the top of your lungs and they stop in their tracks to look at you. You're almost right by them now. "Go back! Run! They know that-"

You don't get to finish your sentence as the loud bang of a gun cuts through the air, blowing your horse's head clean off. Warm blood splatters over your face and clothes and you come crashing down.

The fall knocks all the air out of your lungs and you gasp like a fish on land, trying to breathe. As the men take cover behind some crates, you realize that one of your legs is stuck under the horse and you grunt and pant while trying to lift the heavy body.

A bullet lands awfully close to the ground next to you and you let out a terrified yelp. Then suddenly the weight on your leg vanishes as you watch Arthur and Sean hoist the animal off you. Just enough for you to get out.

Quickly you crawl to one of the crates to hide behind as well and take out your Schofield. It's a near damn miracle that you didn't lose this weapon during the fall and you cling onto it so tight that the whites on your knuckles are showing.

By the looks of it, it seems like the entire damn Gray family is out to get you.

"How'd you know it was a set-up?", Bill yells over the gunshots out to you.

"I was at the manor and overheard the workers mentioning it!", you scream back and duck as the top of the crate explodes into hundreds of splinters.

Luckily none of them hit you and you peek around the corner to aim your weapon. One man falls down on his knees after you pull the trigger and you quickly take cover again.

The boys are talking about something along the lines of changing positions, but you can't see how you'd do that. With all these bullets raining down on you, you're scared to even blink.

Micah yells something about retreating to the gunsmith's and you plan a mental route in your mind. If you take the way behind the buildings then you should be fine. Unfortunately just as you're about to start moving, hands grab you from behind and violently yank you back.

With a short cut scream you stumble backwards, but catch your balance in time to avoid hitting the ground. Two men stand before you with large hunting knives  and without hesitation you point the barrel of your Schofield at them and fire two shots.

One goes down immediately, meanwhile the other let's out a guttural cry as he falls to his knees, gripping his thigh. Before you could finish him off, your revolver is being knocked out of your hands and you're being dragged to the Sheriff's office.

No matter how much you kick, punch and fight back, the person's grip on you is like iron. Shortly after you go through the door, a group of three follow you closely behind. It's two men, struggling to hold Bill in place who is putting as much effort into breaking free as you.

"Sheriff Gray! You need to get a hold on this town! It's going to hell!", you hear Micah shout from outside.

A quick look at Leigh Gray tells you all you need to know. Instead of admitting his unavoidable defeat, his nostrils flare up in outrage. "Who do you think you are? A bunch of two-bit thugs from God knows where? You're so dumb to think that we don't know what you've been doin'!"

Micah doesn't sound too fazed when he answers. "Come out, Sheriff! It's over!"

This is the first time ever that you're actually glad to have Micah here with his unwavering confidence and never ending bloodlust. These people here stand no chance against that maniac.

"We put down far worse than you! A hundred times over! This is the Gray's town. Always has been, always will be!"

"The only Gray's left I see 'round here, is you!", the outlaw argues and the Sheriff let's out a huff.

"You want us to come out? We'll come out!" With that they kick open the door and one of the men pushes Bill out.

A smack of the lips can be heard from Arthur. "Oh, Bill!", he says rather annoyed.

His entire attitude shifts the moment they force you through the door though. A pair of blue orbs are focused on you, but all you can think about is the feeling of cold metal on your temple. A shotgun is being pointed at you and mental images of your brain out on the floor pass by your inner eye.

"Guns on the ground now! All three of you!", one of the men demands harshly.

"Don't do it!", Bill insists and you nod approvingly. If the three of them surrender now, then you're all fucked.

"You know we can't do that. You put the gun down Sheriff!" Arthur's voice sounds strained from anger.

The barrel is being pushed closer against your temple, but you feel the Sheriff tremble behind you. "I'll blow her brains out!"

That was the wrong move to make. Next thing you know the man falls back as a bullet enters his scull and he almost drags you down with him. After Arthur, Micah and Sean deal with the rest, you stumble down the stairs and feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your body.

"Are you hurt anywhere?", the outlaw asks you and his eyes scan your face and figure for any injuries.

You manage a shake of your head. "No, this isn't my blood."

Getting it out of your hair and clothes is going to be a piece of work once it dries up which it's already starting to do.

"This really went well. Right, lads?", Sean comments, his words oozing with sarcasm and Bill throws his hands up in the air.

"How the hell was I supposed to know?" His voice comes out harsh and defensive and Arthur glares daggers at him as he let's go of you. Immediately, you start missing the closeness.

"Oh let me guess!", the outlaw shouts, getting louder and louder with each word. "They set us up once before, they didn't like us, we destroyed their farm. Should I go on?"

Micah comes strolling over with his arms stretched out. "Go easy on him, Morgan. He was out tryin' to find a lead, same as you, same as Hosea. All you do is complain when things don't work out. Except when it's your own goddamn fault."

"You don't know what you're talkin' about.", Arthur snarls through gritted teeth. "You don't give a damn 'bout nobody but yourself!"

The other man let's out a dry laugh and raises his hands. "Oh, you act so high and mighty, but you're no better than the rest of us. I've ridden with you boys close to what? Six months now? And all you've ever done was complain. You can fight, but you can't think."

"And you can't do either." Arthur briefly touches your shoulder, motioning to where his horse is hitched and your groups starts walking.

Even though you don't need the help, he still lends you a hand when you mount his horse. He agrees to give you a ride to the Gray residency to pick up Penthesilea while the others return back to camp.

Somehow you manage to convince him to wait at the edge of the property and let you sneak in alone. If you come riding in now, looking like someone spilled a bucket of blood over you, you will only alarm the young guard at the entrance.

He already isn't particularly fond of you and you don't expect him to just let you get to your horse. It doesn't take too long though and you manage to stay undetected. You feel guilty for getting the horse Beau let you borrow killed, but perhaps he will understand once you explain the situation to him.

If you will ever get the chance to do so. With the ambush in town, there is nothing that speaks in favor for staying here. In fact, after shooting up and successfully killing the entire town the last thing you should do is linger.

Arthur and you make your way back as fast as possible, expecting everyone to be running around and packing, but you're being met with an entirely different sight. A small group of people is gathered around Dutch's tent and it looks serious.

You exchange puzzled looks with Arthur before you walk over to see what exactly is going on. Abgail's eyes are red and puffy and panic is written all over her features.

"Where's my goddamn son?", the woman yells, rage and fear lacing her voice. "Where is he? Where's my son? They took him, didn't they? They took my son."

"Who?", you ask and Hosea walks up to you.

He points at something behind him. "We think the Braithwaite woman took him. That Kieran saw a couple of fellers."

Your heart drops after hearing that. Turns out both families decided to strike at the same time.

"Where's my son?", Abigail chimes in again. "If anythin'- where is my son, Dutch Van Der Linde?"

Dutch places his hand on her shoulder and looks her deep into the eyes. "We will find him. We will bring him back to you and we will kill any fool who had the temerity to touch one hair on that boy's head. Abigail, you have my word."

In the corner of your eyes you spot John walking up to your group. His face is strained and his entire body is tense. You don't remember the last time you have seen him like that. If you ever even have.

"Just get me back my son.", Abigail says and the men start walking towards the horses.

"I will get that boy back, so help me God!"

Your eyes are fixed on the worried mother and you put your hand on her back. You'd have offered her a hug too if you weren't covered in blood.

In the distance you see the rest of the men in camp approaching and Bill calls out. "Dutch, we just heard what happened with Jack. So you need extra guns?"

As the men ride off, you walk Abigail to her tent and sit down with her.

"Jack is going to be fine. They will bring him back to you by the end of the day, you'll see.", you say in a soothing tone and rub circles on her back.

These animals will regret this. You're sure of it.

Taglist: @shackspossum @heloixe @abducted-cowz

[jammerskrik]

honestly I’ll never have a job as funny and wild as old 1950s cumbies. I think that’s probably the top silliest stupid job I’ve ever had. I had a coworker named kilfeather who was a late thirties obese literal fedora’d neckbeard, who unfailingly made the various (East Asian) women of Boston uncomfortable by being on brand to the point of addressing them as ‘M’lady,’ and split his time between manga and atheist reddit boards and masturbation. He gave his entire savings to The Occupy Movement, then rebuilt it only to then give it all to Bernie Sanders… he was Irish white trash from one of the most depressed towns in western mass, his parents were farmer-descended biker gang ppl that he dropped out of nineth grade to caretake once the cigarette genocide got them. He used to give me impassioned speeches about how the most important issue of our time is centering black and brown voices, and then, without fail, partially magic and partially because our boss was a black lady from Cali that hated most other African Americans, something beautiful and so fucking ironic and hilarious would happen.

Best was when we had to run down inventory to shut the gas station down around January 2019, our boss interrupted one of Kilfeather’s woke speeches about worshipping ppl darker than him to tell him to go clean out the little cup shed with me and Rokon, a banglandeshi indo-muzzy immigrant who at the time didn’t speak any English yet. Rokon began tossing all the spare foam coffee cup rolls out of the shed to me so I could bag them up, as Kilfeather waddled up through snowfall that was beginning to accumulate to watch us and, perhaps if the opportunity presented itself, resume his anti-racist speech.

About a minute later, Rokon had run out of cups and was suddenly madly pulling up endless flattened layers of shipping cardboard that had formed the flooring beneath the cup rolls, and I mean like decades of layers of flattened cardboard, the station was original from 1951 and the bottom decade or two had become dust and dirt. I stopped helping at my disgust threshold and just stood beside kilfeather in the snow watching R manically pry out every layer and heave it into a comically large pile as if his life depended on it until he suddenly froze. He stood there for a few moments, turned and looked at me n kilfeather, then smiled wide, disappearing into the small old shed like laughing, but a strange rare laugh to hear from a man like that; he squealed with absolute delight then vanished. Kilfeather looked at me like, what? does this mean??

But I didn’t get to reply because Rokon had emerged from the shed holding some kind of giant frozen tangled black disk about a meter in diameter. Kilfeather and I were both immediately instinctually repulsed though neither of us could really process what the disk was in that moment, as Rokon stood there dusted in snow and beaming… but we realised right as he spun around like a discus thrower, launching a massive frozen-solid City of Boston Real Life Rat King into Kilfeather’s face and chest.

There were two black crackheads from Kentucky who would stand outside the gas station like Jay and Silent Bob -style and by this point they were watching in the background, as was our boss. The Crackheads began heckling/roasting the fuck out of Kilfeather and calling him a faggot, and he let out a whine to our boss lady, to see if she could please make the addicts of colour stop calling him the f-slur. she was super Christian and super racist and she gracefully walked to Kilfeather through the snow and was like ‘well baby, I am worried that you never stand up for yourself, if Rokon hadda thrown that at me I wouldda whooped his ass to Death on the spot!’

idk cumbies was super funny

[lonesome-witching]

Secret Admirer

This is a storyline I have explored before a while back but I was delighted to do it again and slightly different, so thank you for the prompt @ronance4life42. I hope you guys like this one. If you want a similar work you can check out Be My Valentine all the way back from June.

You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

Dear Nancy,

I’m not sure where to start. It appears I never know where to start, and especially not with you. It’s stupid really, how easily I care about your judgement. You see, I want you to like me, I really do. And well, I don’t think you do. It is not something I blame you for. I wouldn’t like me either. I don’t like me actually. But yet, I want you to like me.

I want you to like me because I like you. It is the most logical reason. And perhaps also the silliest. Because it seems impossible that you could ever like me. Or at least that you could ever like me in the way I like you.

Maybe that is the point of this silly letter. Maybe the point is that I like you too much. That I see you across the hallway and I’ll want to approach. That I hear your voice and can’t refrain myself from smiling.

It is not your beauty that enchants me, although it most definitely does, but it is your intellect, your passion, your drive. Perhaps it is everything about you, everything that makes you you.

It is silly, I suppose, that I’m willing to write poetry about a girl that doesn’t even like me. But Nancy, you are the type of girl that people write poetry about. It is while looking at you that I realize what overcomes the poets and artists in this world. Because suddenly I want to write, and I want to paint and draw and sculpt. I want to become a photographer and keep a portfolio of only you. And while others admire your beauty, I will think back to the person behind it.

Perhaps that would be enough. Although I doubt it. Because even more than that, I want you to like me. And that is even so much sillier.

Nancy turned the page in her hand. It had dropped out of her locker the second she had pulled it open. There was no name on the bottom of the page, not on the back either. No signature, no locker number, no indication of who it was from. Nothing. It just stopped at the end of that last sentence. Almost as if the writer had wanted to continue.

She sighed, folded the paper and placed it in one of textbooks. She hoped to forget it by the time first period started. She knew she wouldn’t. How could she forget such a letter? She needed to know who had written it.

Robin was already sitting in her usual seat when Nancy entered the classroom. Simply tapping her pencil on her desk and staring out the window. For a moment she did forget about the letter. It was the moment Robin looked up at her.

But the letter returned to her mind when she sat down next to her friend.

“Nancy, hi. Good morning!” Robin greeted, sitting up straighter.

“Good morning, Robin.” She was hesitating. Unsure of whether she should tell Robin about the letter. It felt nice that it was just for her. It felt nice to keep it a secret. “Robin?”

“Yeah?”

“I need your help with something. I got this letter and I need to know who it’s from.” Nancy carefully placed the letter on Robin’s desk. She wanted to pull it back, regretted handing it over already.

“Oh?” Robin slowly unfolded the letter.

“Can you help me?”

-

Dear Nancy,

Yesterday I sat in the school library and when I looked up from my copy of Dante’s Inferno, or well the school’s copy, you were there. You were sighing as you skimmed through books and I was reminded of wanting to paint you. Those are the moments I want to keep forever. The ones that aren’t mine and yet they are. Everyone could have watched you, but no one did. No one but me. It felt all too intimate, looking at you work.

I’m beginning to worry that I’ll come off as a creep. I promise I’m not a stalker. I just

You are just too extraordinary for me not to pay attention.

“I’m not sure who it could be, Nance. It’s certainly not Steve, that much is clear.” Robin took a bit out of her sandwich. Nancy noticed she did that sometimes. She’d start eating in the middle of a sentence to keep herself from saying to much. Nancy hated that she did that.

“I hadn’t expected it to be Steve.”

“I don’t think it’s Jonathan either.”

Nancy laughed at that. If Jonathan had felt that way about her, the way this secret admirer felt, he could have just said so. He had her in the palms of his hands, and he pushed her away. It wasn’t Jonathan.

“Could it be Tommy Hagan?” Robin asked seriously, before bursting into bright laughter. Nancy joined her. The idea of Tommy Hagan writing anything, especially something like this, was preposterous.

“Are you not taking this serious, Robin?” Nancy asked, still laughing. There was a warm feeling blooming in her chest. It only ever seemed to be there when she was around Robin.

“I’m just considering all the options.”

“Of course.” Nancy looked at the table, Robin’s gaze too bright to take in for too long. It was like staring at the sun.

“Talking about options, what if it’s Keith? He’d pay off someone to drop it in your locker.”

“Robin, stop!” Nancy laughed. She didn’t want Robin to stop. She never wanted Robin to stop doing anything.

-

Dear secret admirer,

It seems to me it is a bit unfair that you are allowed to know my name while I have no idea who you are. I will admit that since I have received your first letter, I have been searching for you. But it would be so much easier if you simply told me your name. Perhaps then I can stare at you the say you stare at me. Maybe then I’ll feel like picking up a pencil or a camera.

It is unfair that you refuse me the opportunity to do so. And yet, I look forward to receiving your letters. Somehow, they make me feel seen, make me feel known and appreciated. Maybe I’m the one being silly now, but I feel like I know you too. I know you without knowing you. It feels weird. You make me feel. That is just it. You, anonymous letter writer, you make me feel. I’m forever grateful for that.

Nancy

Robin’s hands were shaking. How could they not? How could they ever stop? The letter had been hidden in the school’s copy of Dante’s Inferno. Robin should have suspected it. She gave Nancy one detail and the girl jumped on it.

She had to write back. She had to write something back. But her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. And she wasn’t sure what she could possibly write.

-

Dear Nancy,

You are right. It is completely unfair. But I can’t tell you who I am. If you want to know why, I’m afraid it’s an awfully simple answer. I am a coward.

What would you do if you knew my name? I could see it go badly. I do see it go badly, every night when I lay myself down to sleep. People often talk about dreaming about their true love. But when I dream of you it is never pleasant. I don’t like dreaming of you, Nancy. I prefer to watch you while I’m awake. It is only then I can imagine something good. Not that I know for sure what it is that I’m imagining. Maybe I don’t imagine at all. Maybe I just watch.

I’m sorry if this is a disappointment. But maybe not every question needs an answer. Maybe not every mystery needs to be solved. Maybe I can continue to hide in the shadows just this once.

Because I can’t see this ending well for me. And perhaps I should have never written you any letters in the first place. I’m not even sure why I did. I shouldn’t have done it.

“Typical me. I get something good and I need to scare it away.” Nancy fell down in front of Robin, throwing the latest letter on the table.

“Oh, what happened?”

“I wrote back and now they are saying it was a mistake.”

“Have you figured out who it might be? Because I was thinking—"

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Nancy sighed. Maybe it really didn’t matter anymore. She looked at Robin’s fingers gripping the piece of paper.

“Okay,” Robin replied.

“Robin? Can I come over tonight?” Nancy slightly leaned forward.

-

“So, what are we doing tonight?” Robin fell on her bed. She looked much more at ease in her own room than she ever did in Nancy’s.

“Anything. I just wanted to be away from home for a bit. It gets too loud.”

Robin laughed. “It’s not like I can offer peace and quiet. I can never shut up.”

“I don’t want you to.” Nancy sat down on the bed, next to Robin.

“Be careful, Nance, you might start making me blush.”

“I’d love to see it.”

Robin turned away, fully turning into her pillow. Nancy wanted to grab her shoulders and pull her back. She didn’t need a secret admirer when she had Robin. Robin who gave up her free time to research anything and everything whenever Nancy asked. Robin who joined her to the library even when she had already finished her work. Robin who talked too much, Robin who listened.

Robin who was turning back toward her with a smile and a soft blush on her cheeks. Nancy leaned down, closer. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she knew she had to do it. Her lips brushed against Robin’s. Softly. Gently. She pressed slightly harder, truly kissing Robin for the first time. Robin’s body froze under Nancy.

“I’m sorry,” Nancy said when she pulled away.

“No, it’s okay. You’re good. I don’t mind. I liked it. I just— I have to— I’m gonna go to the bathroom for a second. I’ll be right back.” Robin jumped up, running out of the room as soon as possible and nearly tripping over her own feet multiple times.

Nancy groaned. She kept screwing things up. She turned her head toward the nightstand. A piece of paper lay there, lined and filled with words. She wasn’t going to look. Robin was entitled to her privacy. But Nancy saw her own name and she couldn’t resist.

Dear Nancy,

I know I have said that your beauty is not what drew me in, that it is your intellect and your curiosity, but that wasn’t entirely the truth. God, you’re so beautiful, Nancy. So incredibly beautiful. I want to

That’s all it said, stopping in the middle of the sentence. Nancy reread the paragraph. A second time and a third.

“I— I can explain,” Robin said, her voice disturbing Nancy from the many thoughts floating in her head.

“You wrote the letters. Of course, it was you.” She smiled as she closed the distance between them. This time when she kissed Robin, Robin kissed back. This time everything fell into place. Nancy slid her hands into Robin’s hair, holding her close. She never wanted to part from Robin again.

[mayuichi]

𓆩♡𓆪 “Feeling lonely ? Let me keep you company... Or perhaps you're bored of my hyperactivity...„ ♢ ੭

✧ 『 Masterlist 』 ✧

ALSO CHECK ⤷ /ᐠ - ˕ •マ ⳊTo know more about me! 【 ღ Main Page -`♡´- 】 ⤷ /ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ To request! ✧ 『 Rules and Requesting 』 ✧

══˖⁺.══╡Genshin Impact╞══.⁺˖══

୧ ITTO ꣹

“i found saberlight...„ “Happy birthday!„ (special gift - won't suit everybody)

୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ KAZUHA KAEDEHARA ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ♡.°₊ˎˊ˗

“Darling, I'm home.„

𓆩⚝𓆪 SCARAMOUCHE ʚїɞ WANDERER ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“You want to spend our money on... that?„

☘︎ TIGHNARI ✿

“That... is the silliest thing I have ever heard of you.„ “So... You like my scolding?„

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ DEHYA ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

“Come on, I'm sure that day isn't lost yet!„

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ FURINA ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

She wants to trust you. Give her reasons trust you. Give her reasons be happy.

𓃠 WRIOTHESLEY ☾

“My joy... My joy is when I'm next to them.„

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 COLUMBINA 🂱 DAMSELETTE 🕊

“... I couldn't let you be sad, could I ?„

⃝𖤐 ARLECCHINO 𐙚 THE KNAVE ༊·˚

“Oh, you're still here ?„

‧˚₊⋅ ୨ MORIARTY THE PATRIOT ୧ ⋅₊˚‧

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. WILLIAM JAMES MORIARTY ✧˖*°࿐

“Rest assured, it is not mine.„

*ੈ✩‧₊˚｡ ू ₒ ु ˚MULTIPLE CHARACTERS˚ ◌༘♡⋆｡˚ ꕥ���*·˚

[A smart reader, you say?] [William James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes.]

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ HONKAI STAR RAIL ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

❀ JING YUAN ੭

“It can wait. For now, I just want to be with you only.„

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ BUNGO STRAY DOGS ˚｡⋆ ೀ ༘˚

☆ NIKOLAI GOGOL ⟢

“If I die in the process, will you join me?„

✵ SAIGIKU JOUNO ⊹

“... I didn't meant what I said.„

・┆✦ ʚ ♡ PERSONA 5 ♡ ɞ ✦ ┆・

⌕ Nothing here yet... Come check back in a few days!〣

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚ DIABOLIK LOVERS ɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა KOU MUKAMI ˖࿐

“I convinced Ruki and Yuma, just for you!„

˃̵ᴗ˂̵ AZUSA MUKAMI ✸

“You should... wear one with me...„

༘⋆♡MAGIC KYUN!RENAISSANCE⊹。°˖➴

ೀㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ♡ oop... nothing is here! come back next time! ♡₊˚ ・₊ ♪ ✧

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ OMORI ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

꣼ MARI ᨐᵉᵒʷ

“Pfiew. If Hero would've caught us, he would've scold us.„

˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ DANGANRONPA V3 ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

𓍯 Still nothing... Come back later! ะ

⋆˙⟡♡ ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM ♡⟡⋆˙

യ seems empty... sorry! maybe another time? ೃ࿔

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ RAINWORLD ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ it was supposed to be only a joke but that game is a hyperfixation and its killing me so perhaps.. they'll be something there one day? ₊˚⊹≽^•⩊•^≼₊˚⊹

. • °⛓✧༺ MULTIFANDOM ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓

[How your partner reacts when you're on your periods.] - Include: Heizou, Lyney, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Veritas Ratio, Kafka, Tetcho Suehiro, Jouno Saigiku, William James Moriarty. [Spending your birthday with them.] - Include: Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Heizou, Aventurine, Veritas Ratio, Akechi Goro, William James Moriarty, Fred Porlock.

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ Thank you for your time once again. I hope you had fun with me. Come back whenever you want, alright sweetie? ･: * .ೃ࿔ ⋆

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuichi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.

[illfoandillfie]

Blurb Advent 2023: Day 24

This idea came to me after seeing about a hundred reels on insta about guys in grey sweatpants lmao, so i wrote it.

Warnings: minimal editing ofc, making out, mostly pretty cute but quite a lot of dick talk

Ben had stuck the heating on but it was still getting warmed up, a slight chill through the house. The two of you were rugged up on the couch with some mulled wine Ben had decided to make, a gingerbread scented candle burning in the kitchen making the whole place smell festive, and a Christmas variety show playing in the background. The tree was lit up, perhaps unnecessarily considering it wasn’t yet night but the sky outside was grey, threatening to snow. Almost a cliched holiday scene. There was a pile of presents underneath, opne you’d have to load into the car in the morning since they were mostly for parents and siblings, uncles and aunts. Tomorrow would be chaotic since you were intending to visit both his and your families – lunch with one dinner with another – but that wasn’t new. Since your very first holiday with Ben, Christmas had been like that. It only took a couple of years for the two of you to declare Christmas Eve your day. Just the two of you, getting into the holiday spirit and probably making out a little.  

Tradition dictated that you each got to open one present on Christmas Eve. Usually, the silliest thing you’d got each other. You’d save the bigger, more impressive stuff for opening with everyone else, but there was always something smaller, something goofier that you could exchange the day before. Ben sorted through the pile under the tree until he pulled out a smallish square box, wrapped up in paper with candy canes printed on it.   “Merry Christmas Eve, babe,” he said softly, handing it to you with a small kiss.   You tore into it excitedly, revealing the box which claimed to contain a galaxy projector, “Oh my god Ben! This is so cool!”  He gave you a pleased little grin, “I thought you’d like it.”  You fussed about getting it out of the box and plugging it in as Ben set to opening the package you’d given him.   “Oh score, babe! I needed new trackies” Ben said, holding up the grey sweatpants you’d bought him.  You giggled, “no problem honey.”  “Am I old? I just got ridiculously excited about what I definitely would have considered a boring present as a kid. Does that make me old?”  “Aww honey, no. They’re very hip and cool. All the hot young things are buying them for their guys. The internet tells me so.”  “What are you on about?”  “You haven’t seen those insta reels? The memes about how hot guys in grey trackies are?”  “Ummm no. Oh god maybe I really am old.”  You snorted, “If you put them on I can explain what the memes are. But no undies okay?”  “And that will make me young? Sounds crazy but okay, they look really fucking comfy.” 

In the time it took for Ben to go and change you managed to get the galaxy projector working. It wasn’t quite as good as the box implied but it was cute and you liked how it looked.  “Woah, hey, that’s pretty cool.” Ben said, stairing up at the stars on the ceiling, “I thought it was gonna be a bit shitter to be honest.”  You were placing the projector on the coffee table, laughing, but as you turned you nearly choked. The memes had been right, it was hot. You could see practically everything.   Ben was oblivious to your staring, “Babe you did so well, these are so comfy I love them.” He did a bit of a turn in them, letting you see his ass for a moment before the outline of his cock was back in front of your eyes.   “Honey why don’t you come sit,” you patted the couch beside you.  Ben seemed a little surprised but he obliged.  “In fact, why don’t you put your feet up,” you scooted off the couch so Ben had space to stretch out.  “Uhhh, yeah alright. Don’t you want to sit too though?”  “Oh I will,” you let Ben get settled before pouncing, straddling him and leaning in to kiss him.  Ben hummed into the kiss, his arms automatically wrapping around you and pulling you close.   “Not sure what that was about,” he said softly when you finally broke apart, “but I’m not complaining. Just tell me what I did to get you so horny, so I can do it again.”  “Did you not look at yourself in a mirror when you changed into these pants?”  “No,”  “So you didn’t realise how visible your dick is?”  “Is it?”  You laughed, “This isn’t helping make you seem less old. That’s what the memes are about and I can tell you they’re spot on. I’ve been staring at your cock since you changed.”  “Oh, wel-”  “Shh, don’t say anything else, it’ll only distract from making out.”  Ben groaned as you rocked forward, his cock pressed against your cunt, “Yeah okay, good plan. 

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

For Riddlers, He has a crush on a woman who works in SPA as massager and to spend time with her he just books a massage. And it's so good, he is super relaxed and is almost falling asleep.

"Magic Hands" Riddler Party x F!Reader

This sounds like pre-any kind of relationship so that's where I'm going with it. I don't like a lot of touching but if I'm in the right mood I love someone cracking my back like a glowstick.

TW: Suggestive

Gotham

Because of the Tism, he's very specific on how he likes to be touched. Rather touch-aversive as it were except for a select few people. That's why he thinks it would be okay if his crush touched him... Probably. The worst case scenario, he could always ask for the massage to stop. He's willing to risk it to spend more time with her. Given their respective... career choices, dalliances tend to be few and far between. Especially considering she seems to have no idea he's in love with her, from his perspective.

The truth is, she's very aware but also understandably nervous about him crushing given some of his past history. So when he shows up for a massage, her stomach drops a tad. Is this some way of getting fresh with her? No, he's not like that. It's... probably just being supportive of her business and being a nice friend :)

Hopefully. He seems shy when she tells him he has to take his clothes off and when she comes back in, he's positioned himself perfectly with the towel over his ass as he lays on his stomach. She takes off his glasses for him which is much more intimate than he would have expected. He actually flinches when she touches him at first and she's asking if he's okay. Yet the more she smooths her hands over his back, the more relaxed he seems to get. Slowly, slowly he melts further into the table.

His lanky arms and legs get the treatment with lotions and pressure points and he's in heaven. He doesn't quite fall asleep but he's almost there as she quietly informs him to take his time getting dressed. He's more determined than ever in his feelings for her while she's got a lot of thinking to do.

60s

This is one of his silliest plans yet. His sweet paramour, washing away the pains and aches of the patrons of Gotham. She doesn't quite think of him that way yet! Yet! Yet, Edward is so certain of his charms and intelligence winning over the pretty lady of his eyes. He's had flowers delivered, riddle-filled notes written and sent. But perhaps the real kicker will be her getting to know him a bit better!

What better way than having unrestricted access to her for a whole hour with no one else to bother them? In a perfectly professional way, of course. At least that's what he thinks until she tells him it's an all-nude massage. Just a towel lightly covering him. He gulps a little. Is he prepared for the woman of his dreams seeing him au naturel? He's doing his best to be covered and incredibly respectful in this state because he's not THAT much of a cad.

If she allows him, he's going to talk her ear off the entire time, sighing and praising her as she hits all those sweet spots in his muscles. Let him tell you all about HIM, dear! He's got a fine career as Riddler extraordinaire, yes sometimes he's in prison, but doesn't it excite you? Just a little? What about his clever wit? Why don't you tell him more about you, then?

At some point, he might trail off a little, getting sleepy but still murmuring and talking to her as if she can understand. Suddenly everything feels so nice and he's not even thinking about how he'll crush Batman, the boy blunder and prove himself which is a feat in and of itself.

By the end of it, she's actually gotten a nice picture of him outside the persona. Still obnoxious, but... Actually kind of a sweet man.

Capullo/Zero Year

God, he's so fucking smug about it. When she initially rejected his advances in a way that wasn't an explicit "no", he decided he just needed to leverage her attention a little bit! Pop up when she least expects it. A little seduction here and there- He'll win her over for sure.

He looks like the cat who got the cream when he shows up to his appointment, ready to undress down to his skivvies on a dime. Are you Hecate because he's heard you've got some magi- okay okay, he's getting on the table.

This is going to seriously backfire on him because he's so desperately touch-starved. Her hands on his skin, even through the towel is... intoxicating. He let's out this tiny little moan at one point and they both know he's fucked.

Oh the weight of the world that rests upon those shoulders! If only she knew! If only he could whisk her away to become his companion away from the ignorant, vapid world that doesn't appreciate her! He's almost purring and singing her praises as the appointment goes on. Getting a little drowsy...

She has to give him a light smack on his shoulder to let him know he can't just sleep here. His appointment is over, come on. The only bonus in his favor is that was a lot of power to have over a man like him. Definitely an intoxicating feeling.

"You... should definitely expect a large tip." He winks, "And a regular." The moment she teases him about being a little too into it, however, and he's flushed and trying to get out of there as soon as possible. Too vulnerable! Have to leave NOW!

BTAS

He spent years as a graphic/coding/physical designer for toys and games so you know his shoulders and lower back suck. He probably used to get massages every once in a while when he had a steady gig because it was a "normal" thing to do. Now he finds it almost frivolous... Until he finds out the object of his affections happens to do it. The thought crosses his mind multiple times that maybe he should- no. No, that would be disrespectful.

Echo and Query happen to see his dilemma... and help him out by just making the appointment for him. He can't cancel now! It'd be rude! She'll KNOW- He relents to go and is incredibly flustered for 90% of it. Trying to be cool about it. OH. He didn't realize this was your place. Or your name. Even after you told him.

He's thrilled when he's asked just to go down to his underwear. While he's not self-conscious about his body, the combination of intimacy and being completely naked might end up in a slip-up and if that happens he will die. She can't think of him as some juvenile who pops an erection at the drop of a hat- He's so focused in all of these thoughts that she has to tell him to relax or else the massage is going to do nothing for him.

That of course, makes him beet red in the face and he tries to quiet down his brain for a bit. The relief is instant. She's getting out knots that have been there for years and if she even slightly recommends any self-care packages, he's on it. Spa day this man up. He not only deserves it, but he's got no qualms about seeming not masculine for it.

When he leaves, him and his crush are practically kissing cheeks because the experience has been kind of a delight. If there was a competition for best Riddler to massage... it very well might be BTAS. Will get a manicure with you and also massage you back.

Telltale

At first it was a sort of recon. Testing the waters to see how she would respond to him showing up in her daily monotonous life. If there would be signs of someone else. Someone he actually had to worry about. It felt ridiculous, he thought, to have a crush like this and want to check on them. But if he's going to act on some schoolboy infatuation, he's going to be thorough.

She's... surprised, to say the least. He's not exactly a man that reads liking a lot of physical touch. Yet he's professional and cool about the undressing.

There are multiple times where his back and bones cracking almost echoes off the walls. Holy fuck has this man never heard of self-care? When she lightly jokes that he might need a chiropractor, he almost scowls. If he wanted anything other than her, he would have gotten it. The awkward silence that followed caused him to clear his throat.

She adds an extended hot stone massage free of charge because if anyone needs his muscles worked and relaxed, it's this fucking guy. At first he almost refused, not wanting her to fuss, but... Additional time with her and she seems to be concerned for his well-being. Perhaps this time it would be alright if she fussed. Just a little. To get their relationship on a good start.

Oh, he needed it. He feels like someone gave him a new body afterwards. Maybe there really is something to this. He'll... have to come again. Not for her, he tells her, he just doesn't trust anyone else.

Arkham

Since he can't exactly find a plethora of reasons for his crush to come to him... he decided on a whim to go to her. He actually showered and wore non-grease stained clothing, that should prove in itself how committed he is to this. He didn't want to risk being gross in her place of work, especially not with her touching him. Some scraps of consideration can go a long way.

The outright shock on her face is palpable. Not only is he here... but he wants her services? He smells nice? Is this a trick...? Some complex riddle that ends in her being horrifically mauled by a device of some sort? But no, he undresses and gets on the table and she can see him exposed. Well. Time to get to it.

The fucking knots in this man's back. Something about being hunched over a desk for hours to days at a time really does something to you. He does wonder briefly if some of his irritability can be directly related to chronic pain and not just because everyone else is an idiot. Something to think about as she works her skill over his skin.

Small groans occasionally escape his lips as she goes and she'll ask him if he's okay, if she's going too hard- He'll tell her to go harder. It's alright. It's... more than alright, actually. It's putting him to sleep. Yet her concern is more than just endearing. Even with the slight anxiety she might feel around him, knowing she cares is...

This was one of his best plans yet.

2022

This was a terrible idea. Oh no, this was a terrible, awful idea. He'd made the appointment after one of his runs as the Riddler. In his mask he felt confident and able to take on anything. Just make an online appointment at his crushes work. He can feel a sense of power in the dynamic and get to spend time with her. But as the appointment approaches...

He gets so nervous coming in, he knocks his body hard into the massage table and almost eats shit. Not to mention the horrible flustered stuttering when he was told he needed to get down to his underwear. and his glasses off!

For the first half of the appointment, he's terrified of getting a boner. Her hands are so warm and so soft and he's thinking about how nice they'd feel other places and- no! Focus... Focus... Oh this actually feels... kind of nice...

His anxiety plus generalized exhaustion from not sleeping wins out in the end. His crush might get a rather endearing moment when they hear his tiny little snore against the pillow. A little drool in the corner of his mouth. She has a chunk of time between appointments.

It won't hurt to let him sleep for ten minutes. Seems like he needs it, poor guy.

[sylvia-forest]

[CN] Shaw's 6th Anniversary event - Finale (Part 1)

⚡ Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an Event which hasn't been released in EN yet!⚡

[Day 5]

MC: Do you remember the event "To Myself 365 Days Later" that we participated in last year?

Shaw: I haven't forgotten. Judging by your excitement, did you receive the letter you wrote to yourself last year? MC: Exactly! Did you receive yours? Shaw: Let me check... Oh, indeed, I did. MC: Quickly, let me see what questions you asked last year. Shaw: Hold on, do you want to see mine? How about exchanging yours? MC: ...Alright, let's look at mine first and then yours!

Under the bright lights, Shaw's eyes sparkled with curiosity, as if waiting for my answer.

Looking at the familiar yet distant questions in the email, my heart was stirred.

The first question I asked myself was: Are you living happily? My answer was...

After answering, I looked at the unusually quiet Shaw.

MC: Why aren't you saying anything? Not even a sarcastic comment...?

Shaw: Because you look so serious, much more refreshing than when you're usually making a fuss. Shaw: I don't want to spoil the atmosphere. MC: After all, it's a ceremonial thing, of course, we should treat it well. MC: Now it's your turn.

Shaw smiled, slowly took out his phone.

He didn't rush to open the email; instead, his gaze fixed on me.

Shaw: It's up to you to look, but let's get one thing straight—I won't answer every question. MC: Are you afraid your questions are "difficult to answer"? Shaw: What are you thinking? How could I dig a pit for myself?

He stubbornly squinted his eyes, raised his hand, and opened the email.

—

Life is not like archaeology—no clear origins, no clear classifications. Many questions need to be answered by oneself. But I've always enjoyed taking on challenges.

So today, I wrote down these questions. As for how to comprehend them, it's up to you a year from now.

As for me, I like to add difficulty for my future self. Now, tell me, which moment of hers was the silliest this year?

Do you know how to skillfully handle her when she pretends to be angry?

When she buries herself in work and ignores you, how can you attract her attention reasonably?

You probably have the answers already, right?

—

A ripple of emotions surged within me, and I happily leaned in front of Shaw.

MC: Why are all your questions related to me? Shaw: What do you think? In that situation last year, I couldn't think of anything else.

I paused for a moment, realizing what he meant by "that situation," and then chuckled.

MC: Some people looked composed at the time, but unexpectedly, they had their own troubles~

[T/N]: By ‘that situation’ means, Shaw and MC were having a “cold war” last year, although Shaw looked calm and composed on the outside but inside he was wrecking his mind as how to end this "cold war"! You can read the event from here.

He slightly averted his gaze, speaking somewhat unnaturally.

Shaw: Anyway, those are all in the past. MC: True, let's focus on the present~ So, these questions related to me should be easy to answer, right?

Seeing that I set a trap, Shaw grinned and seemed ready to counterattack.

Shaw: Still not difficult? The first one is a tough one. Shaw: You've had too many silly moments; I can't rank them. MC: ...Then you can skip it! Answer the second one first! Shaw: No, I like taking on challenges. Shaw: The silliest moment... Should I say singing in the shower? Shaw: Or perhaps every time you work overtime with that "life has no meaning" look? Shaw: Let's use the process of elimination. First, list the rare moments when you're clever. Shaw: This way, what's left will be the silliest... MC: Shaw!

I raised my fist, but he grabbed it and then turned me around, holding me in his arms.

Shaw: I already answered the second question. Shaw: In terms of counterattacking, I've become more proficient.

The breath tickling my neck made me laugh uncontrollably.

MC: Alright, alright, I won't argue with you! Answer the third one quickly!

Shaw: The third question is framed incorrectly.

I paused, turning to look at him.

Shaw: As long as it's something I want to do at the moment, I won't consider what's reasonable. Shaw: Whether it's kidnapping you or tempting you with something fun. Shaw: I won't let any opportunity slip by.

In the dim light, his confident expression gleamed. I chuckled and nestled into his embrace.

MC: But I won't cooperate with you every time.

Shaw: Doesn't matter. There's always a way to make you cooperate. Shaw: I'm always confident about that.

—

MC: Since it's a little flower hat you gave me, I've decided to let you help me put it on~ Shaw: ...Troublesome. MC: Hmph, then I'll put it on myself. ￣⁠ヘ⁠￣ Shaw: Did I say I wouldn't help? Shaw: There, it's on. (一_,一) You look even sillier now. Shaw: Indeed, this silly and cute style doesn't really suit you.

MC: Is that so? Then why does someone keep staring at me? MC: Could it be they find me cute but are too shy to say it out loud? Shaw: Tch, what's there to be shy about? MC: Oh? Is that so? My ears are perking up—Shaw! MC: (///¯皿¯) Why are you using the hat to press down my ears! MC: Shaw, aren't we supposed to be heading back? Where else are we going on the way? Shaw: You'll find out when you get there. Shaw: It's definitely beyond your expectations.

—

MC: Undersea tunnel...?! MC: Wait, isn't this supposed to be a detour on the way back? MC: How did we end up crossing several cities to get here? Shaw: It's a secret. Shaw: You'll find out when the time comes.

—

The moment I stepped into the passage, it was as if I had entered another world of wonder.

The arched passage, made of a giant transparent glass, extends forward under a "blue sky," and waves of fish swim by.

Curious, I look around, and Shaw raises his jaw at me.

Shaw: Just looking at it is boring. How about... we also swim under the sea? MC: You mean scuba diving! Shaw: Let's broaden our horizons a bit. Who said we can only scuba dive under the sea? Let's go for a mix-and-match style.

Shaw opened a hidden door behind him and took out two skate boards with a familiar pattern, making my eyes widen.

MC: Aren't these our backup boards? When did you put them in? Shaw: About a month or two ago. MC: ...?

Seeing my lack of reaction, Shaw puts his hand into his pocket.

Shaw: I overestimated you. I thought you'd figure out why I brought you here as soon as you arrived. Turns out you're not only dumb but also have a terrible memory.

MC: What do you mean?

Shaw: There was once an island lord who claimed he'd build the world's best undersea tunnel. But now it seems that guy was just all talk and no action.

This is a reference from the 'Four season event' (I didn't play this event so I don't know much about it (┬┬﹏┬┬)

MC: ......!

Memories of the summer island flood back, and I sweep my gaze around in disbelief, almost breaking into a high-pitched tone.

MC: No way? Shaw... you actually built an undersea tunnel for me?

Shaw: ......

He wordlessly flicks my forehead with his fingers.

Shaw: I'm not a God. Where would I build an undersea tunnel for you? MC: But you... Shaw: Thanks to Professor Shen being invited as a consultant for relics here, I took the opportunity to offer my help. Shaw: The condition was for him to clear this place for me for a day.

I pause, and emotions surge within me, mirroring the silent waves — I never expected that a casual remark would be remembered for so long.

MC: Even if you didn't build it, you still brought me here, so it's just as valuable in my heart. MC: But you're really good at keeping secrets. You hid it from me for a month or two, and only now...

I suddenly stop and realize the subtle aspect of this.

MC: Hold on, so you originally planned to bring me here? What about the RV trip...

Shaw: What's the big deal? This little accident won't affect my plans. Shaw: It's just making this day a bit more interesting before moving on. Nothing wrong with that.

Seeing him confidently raise his jaw, I teasingly blink my eyes.

MC: Really? It's not that smooth, after all. Your arrangement was unintentionally disrupted.

Shaw: If it's disrupted, it's disrupted. There are countless backup plans.

He takes a step forward, staring at me meaningfully.

Shaw: Hey, you said... no matter what choice I make, it can make this day interesting. I naturally can't be left out.

Those eyes, so close, glitter brightly, and my heart seems to miss a beat.

MC: It seems I did a good job setting an example~

He smiled, lightly kicked with the tip of his foot, and my skateboard was already in front of me.

Shaw: Alright, this is the only chance to skateboard in an unmanned underwater tunnel.

As he spoke, he stepped onto the skateboard, leaned forward, and drew a beautiful arc in the deep underwater world.

I also smiled and stepped onto the skateboard, catching up with him.

We freely roamed in the deserted underwater world, with strange and colorful shadows in the corner of our eyes.

Only the figure in my eyes was particularly clear.

His flamboyant clothing seemed to turn into a fish tail, leading me to swim against the world, galloping towards the distant and unreachable light.

I accelerated to keep pace with him, holding onto his hand.

MC: Shaw, today is the happiest day for me. Shaw: Don't speak too soon; the day is far from over.

After some play, Shaw took me to the end of the room.

A touch of anticipation welled up in my heart as I reached out and gently pushed open the door—

Under the azure light, this cozy glass room was covered with dream-like continuous warm light, like the only end in the deep sea.

Everything here was obviously carefully arranged. I couldn't help but imagine how the person in front of me, who was not good at such things, handled it. He must have been a bit impatient, criticizing his own choice of decorations while arranging them with an air of righteousness.

Maybe when someone passed by the door, he would immediately stop. His actions would freeze, putting his hands in his pockets, pretending nothing had happened.

These hurried yet chic figures vividly appeared in my mind, gradually merging with the person in front of me.

Thinking step by step, I walked to him, tiptoeing playfully.

MC: I didn't expect someone to have such a sense of ceremony. Setting up must not be easy, right?

Shaw: Don't underestimate me; as long as it's something I want to do, there's nothing I can't do. MC: Hmm, I certainly know that. It's just that your delicate side is not often seen.

I paused, teasingly took a step forward.

MC: It seems like I'm seeing different sides of Shaw more often now~

He bent down, a warm breath rushing towards my nose.

Shaw: Is that so? Are you sure you've seen everything clearly?

He was too close; when I instinctively tried to step back, he directly embraced my waist, blocking the "retreat."

The next moment, with a crisp snap of his fingers, a cluster of electric light burst at his fingertips, and the overhead lights instantly went out.

In the dim darkness, a nearly ethereal voice echoed in my ears.

Wooo—

Like a curtain, a shadow slowly closed from above, almost swallowing all the faint light in sight.

I stared blankly, a huge whale swimming past the skylight.

Its dorsal fin towered high, like a lonely island lost in the deep sea, wandering in the boundless ocean.

Such an unrealistic scene made me feel like I was in a woven dream.

MC: ...!

The next second, another burst of brilliant light and shadow suddenly bloomed on the wall, like fireworks filling the underwater world.

How could there be fireworks here?

I hurriedly turned around to the other floor-to-ceiling window, only to find that the incredibly dazzling "fireworks" were continuously blooming underwater.

It was not as grand and overwhelming as the previous two years. It didn't even have sound, but the brilliant colors stole all my attention.

I stared in amazement, still unable to react to how such fireworks could bloom underwater.

But for some reason, my smile became even brighter.

Shaw: Why are you smiling so foolishly?

I came to my senses, slowly blinked my eyes.

MC: I thought I had already guessed what "thing" you were hiding, but now it seems like I need to correct it. Shaw: Well, let me hear it.

My gaze swept around and finally settled back on him.

MC: At first, I thought the thing you were hiding was—"being carefree." MC: After all these days, although you rarely made plans and arrangements, every single thing took me by surprise. MC: I thought you would give me excitement, but you gave me a gentle rain in Watertown; MC: I thought you were going to take me on challenges and adventures, but you gave me the courage and determination I needed the most; MC: Even when I thought it was my turn to surprise you, you made me realize... MC: A surprise can also be created by two people at the same time.

Shaw listened quietly, with even the fireworks merging into his bright gaze.

MC: But until just now, until one unexpected moment after another, I realized... MC: The thing you hid might be simply "liking." MC: Everything happens only under the premise of liking. MC: Only then does it come in front of me.

I paused, gently hooking his finger.

MC: Shaw, am I right?

It seemed like my smile also caught his, a rare thread of joy pouring out from his eyes.

Shaw: Almost, but you didn't mention the most important part. MC: The most important? Shaw: Just like you said, this is only the "premise," and what comes after is the main topic.

In the dim light, the color hidden in his eyes became even brighter.

Shaw: What I truly hid is an "invitation." Shaw: I know very well what kind of person I am. Shaw: I never care about what is the best; I only like what interests me.

He paused, his gaze freely sketching on my face.

Shaw: So once I encounter it, I won't let go. Shaw: And I invite her to stay with me and keep it interesting all the way.

I smiled, holding his fingers a little tighter.

MC: It sounds like an invitation that cannot be refused, but...

I smiled, holding his fingers a little tighter.

MC: No matter where you go, I will be with you. MC: If you want to play in the mortal world, I'll "arm myself" and venture with you. MC: If you want rare tranquility, I'll hold your hand tightly and watch the sunrise and sunset together.

I took a deep breath and looked at him seriously.

MC: So, no matter what the future holds, I'm willing to burn my life and unleash it to the fullest with you.

He raised a carefree smile and gently pulled me closer to him.

Shaw: I remember your words. Shaw: What about my final touch?

I was taken aback.

MC: You've been secretly taking so many photos of me, and I didn't have time to prepare any finishing touch here.

Shaw: Well, in that case, I'll do it myself.

In the silent depths of the sea, a hot kiss gently pried open my lips.

Everything was so quiet, quiet enough that I could only hear the breath near my ears and the pounding of my excited heartbeat.

I slowly closed my eyes, falling into the endless sea with him.

Another year.

And there will be countless more.

—

🚐 Finale (Part 2)