#so I might edit this in the morning

[1eaf-me-alone]

this is a short section of a potentially longer fic I’m making.

Tw: deacriptions of injury, scars and burns, reader is body dysmorphic.

Context: Chiori and reader’s relationship status is complicated, they’ve known each other for a while, reader has had a traumatic event and are about to open up about it.

Genre: hurt/ comfort

Word count: a little under 1k

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Slowly, you unwrapped the Keffiyeh from your face, the one you had donned for years, for it was the only way you found a little comfort in your figure. It unravelled almost immediately, falling onto the ground.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror of Chioriya Boutique, and could barely recognise the figure that was reflected. Your hair was singed off, leaving only the thin hairs on your scalp. Your whole skin was engrained with the permanent burns of that fire, your cheeks, lips and eyes were swollen, your arms were charted black, your legs were puffy, filled with swollen blisters, and some of the skin on your face had peeled, leaving layers of white and red on the skin.  The burns were fibrous in texture, with the areas being raised or indented. You physically had to strain yourself to not immediately gag. 

“Chiori, this is what I look like. I’m revolting. I should have told you about it months ago when we met. I’m sorry. I thought you were scared off by the way I looked, I didn’t know how you would react or if you would start treating me differently.”

You couldn't bring yourself to meet Chiori's gaze, so you stared at the floor, nervously twisting your robes in your hands, afraid of what her expression might reveal.

Chiori looked at you, at your body, your face, your hair. 

“Why do you think I would see you differently?” The tone of her voice was firm as if the mere question of her seeing you another way were ridiculous.

You glanced back up at her, not expecting that reply.

“People judge me based on how I look. People I used to be friends with left me. My parents no longer look me in the eye. My looks define me, and I can’t escape that. It’s why I chose to hide myself, because I thought you would be the same.”

A slow tear descended from your eye, it slid across your cheek, finally plummeting to the ground you swiftly wiped it away from your face, turning it away from Chiori as you felt another one falling down.

You caught another glimpse of yourself in the mirror and gagged. You hastily attempted to pick up the Keffiyah from the floor, trying to cover your face, to hide your vulnerability. It was wrong to show her. Archons, why did you show her?

You felt Chiori’s skin on your own, as she grabbed your wrist. Stopping you from attempting to put the Keffiyah on.

“What are you doing?” There was a slight intonation of rigidity expressed in her voice. Your heart stopped.

Chiori gently clutched your chin, lifting it towards her, so you were looking at her face.

“You’re beautiful to me.”

You snorted loudly, stepping back a little from the utter ridiculousness of her proclamation.

“Do you not see me?” You waved your hands towards your face and arms. Pointing at the burns and scars.

“I do. And I have said, you are beautiful. My opinion is subjective and you can’t change it.”

Chiori stepped closer towards you, her gaze set on your face. Your heat pulsed.

She delicately placed her hands on your face, tracing the raised scars on your cheek, while holding your hand tightly in hers. With closed eyes, she leaned in and kissed you, savouring the sensation of your eyelashes brushing against her skin and the tender touch of your lips meeting hers. They were velvety soft, almost ethereal against her own. She saw no imperfection in you, for you were perfect in her eyes.

She reached out and delicately traced the scars on your face and arms with her fingertips. Then, she moved in to place another gentle kiss on your cheek, Her warm breath grazed against your skin, creating a tingling sensation that spread across your cheeks, causing them to blush a deep, rosy red. She pulled herself closer in, as she whispered softly, “I’ll love you no matter what or how you look. Remember that.”

[valictini]

Loop experiences Insomnia

Yeah, Loop’s first night doesn’t go as planned. They lose consciousness for like, max 30 minutes overall. So they’re not doing great in the morning! And whoops, their filter is slipping a bit!

This very tired Loop is NOT CONVINCED that it’s just insomnia and panic attacks and is scared it might actually stick at some point! (It IS just insomnia and panic attacks)

Nille sees that and uses her tried and true strategy with the erratic stranger: treat that fella like a sad toddler! Reassure them! Give them a simple and repetitive task to complete when they insist on helping you that day! Get them to pass out in minutes!

Also you might wonder why Nille even bothers with Loop. Like. Why would she even get them in her house during these first days? She doesn’t know them, and people in the village might be better suited for the job!

Well you see, Nille is in dire need of a distraction! If she’s left alone with her thoughts, she starts thinking about Bonnie and how she doesn’t know where they are and how her best bet is to stay there in hopes they come back. And if she has to think about that for more than three seconds, she immediately combusts! So all in all, a high maintenance washed up stranger that panics at everything is the perfect excuse for her to Not Think About It.

[scalierpepper]

necromancy is cool

I really struggled with this angle and I was too stubborn to give up so there's a lot of things that aren't quite right, but I want to call it done and I really like the composition so I send it into the tumblr void for you to see anyways ~~

[lov3bug]

GOOD MORNING TO ME they look so good 🤭

[ilovechainmail]

btw i made an updated (post endless sunset w/ clips from it) version of this edit i posted a few months ago :3 c!glowduo forever and ever

[slavhew]

28/01/2024

stars don't twinkle moon doesn't shine

big thanks to @nahrgles for finishing this for me after i hit a wall with colors bg and effects- chromatic aberration blew my fkn mind

pre edit transparent version under cut because i spent too much time cleaning it loll

[sigery]

No idea how plausible this idea is but in the Moon & Sun Minecraft, they apparently have been very clear that Sun and Moon are not brothers. And Eclipse was just introduced as also not family to them (I think). So did they make this show for the celestialcest shippers to explore different relationship dynamics for the characters in hopes the community would go chill in their separate corners?

This is all secondhand information as I haven't seen any of the show (nor have I kept up to date with sams and other sbs lore in general) and me speculating with no actual facts.

this is basically solely based off of these two screenshots I saw on twitter

[detective-ws]

good morning and good night sebastian picmix gifs!

i really like using these kinds of gifs and i really wanted one for sebastian, so i made my own!

[jamiesfootball]

📓

CONGRATULATIONS. YOU ARE THE LUCKY WINNER OF THE LONGEST RESPONSE. I'M SO SORRY.

Welcome to my Jamie can have more than 1 2 3 4 best friends agenda starring Isaac McAdoo From Isaac’s perspective See the one thing Isaac always had a thing about is people seeing him on his own merits. He knows all too well that his image fits a stereotype—there’s nothing he can do to change that—but what he can do is put the effort in to make sure the other parts of him shine through. So he studies up: on fashion, on kinesics, on Shakespeare. Anything he’s interested in, he puts the effort in. So it’s not enough for Roy to give him the captain’s band- he has to earn it. He has to put the effort in, or it doesn’t count as his.

Then there’s Colin. Colin came to Richmond during the same transfer period as Isaac, and from day one they've been getting scolded for talking during video review. Colin is easy; they share a wavelength. A silliness. Colin is judgy and a bit hot tempered, but also completely easy-going with whatever Isaac suggests. He’s never had to try hard with Colin. When Jamie shows up at Richmond the first time there’s a bit of that too. He’s got some of their silliness and humor, though it’s shrouded in dickish overtones. He’s more willing than Colin is to push back if he doesn’t like something, but there isn’t much he isn’t willing to go along with when Isaac suggests it. Plus Jamie thinks it’s funny when Colin gets into a proper bitch session (Isaac agrees). But Isaac thought Jamie appreciated him for the other stuff. He never came at Isaac the way he came at Sam about the football stuff, so he always assumed that Jamie could see that Isaac was putting the work in. That he respected the effort of trying to do well on a team that wasn’t doing well, but was certainly trying to do better. That he respected Isaac. Then Isaac was throwing a chair through a tv, and more fool on Isaac then- Jamie never respected any of them at all. But Roy gave him the captain's band and Isaac McAdoo always earns what he’s given, so when Jamie comes back to Richmond he knows it’s on him to set an example.

He lets the other lads take the lead, but mentally Isaac’s prepared to have it out if he needs to show Jamie who’s in charge this time around. It doesn’t come to that. Jamie comes sulking back in like a puppy who’s new and nervous to play with the big dogs. He stands there and apologizes. He takes it when the lads throw at him the same complaints that Isaac’s been fielding since he took on the armband- from the valid (Sam’s stewing anger) to the less valid (Richard deserved it) to the….Isaac isn’t sure (‘he unfollowed all of us on Twitter, Dani. It wasn’t just you’).

Jamie never challenges Isaac’s claim to leadership. It irks something awful, and something in Isaac suspects that Jamie still doesn’t respect him.

Then the gaffer goes mental one day, yelling at them like a Loony Tunes character, and Jamie’s the only one of them to say anything about it. Isaac should’ve said something. Someone needed to call the coach out and he should’ve done it. He keeps telling himself to do better as a captain, but then these situations crop up and he doesn’t know what to do until after the thing has happened.

But Jamie didn’t look at him after like he was trying to steal Isaac’s lead. If anything he looked confused, bewildered when the team gave him props for standing up for them. No, it wasn’t a power move on his part. He was just doing the right thing. The right thing that Isaac should’ve done.

Isaac games it out with Colin, the Jamie mess. Colin reassures him that it was a funky situation and that the lads knows Isaac is trying his best. Colin wouldn’t lie to him.

So Isaac figures ‘you get what you give’ right? If Jamie’s going to make an effort, then so is he. If he wants Jamie’s respect, he’ll give a little first. Isaac makes an effort to grease the way on Jamie coming back into the fold. He’s got a handshake with everybody on the team and he makes of point of showing everyone on the pitch that Jamie’s got one too (had one before the rest of them, if he’s being honest; had one since back when they used to hit the clubs together). It’s easier than he thought it’d be, folding Jamie back in to club nights, movie nights, the occasional cheat day brunch.

One morning they’re sipping on cheat-day mimosas at Colin’s (and watching the highlights from the game from the night before in a time-honored tradition of not even pretending they don’t have egos) and Colin finally cracks and tells Jamie his stupid gelled back hair last year made him look like a luge runner. Isaac is proud—that’s the longest Colin’s ever kept his opinion to himself. Jamie snorts orange juice on himself; Colin yells about his couch. Jamie tells them that he was just revisiting old haunts and the mood struck him, yeah? Swear I won’t do it again.

Isaac tells him he better not. Reflects poorly on him as captain if one of his crew shows up looking like a twat. He throws it out without thinking. It’s the first time he’s given voice to the new hierarchy between them and he’s not sure how Jamie will respond.

Jamie responds by complaining that the orange juice burned his nose. Then by texting Isaac the next morning, a photo of himself in the mirror rocking one of those puffy vests he likes and a stiff collared button-up shirt Isaac wouldn’t be caught dead in. His hair is gelled back, but it doesn’t look too awful with the halfway decent fade he sports these days (Isaac could do better, he’s just saying).

The text says, “all good cap??”

Isaac texts back a photo of himself. “needs work bruv”

He’s not sure if its respect, but it’s something good. Something that makes him crack jokes, and hang off of Sam’s shoulders, and defend Isaac’s artistry with the razor to Jan like it’s his own honor at stake. (This in spite of the fact that Jamie has never, not once cashed in his free yearly haircut).

It’s all good and then Wembley happens and Isaac thinks that maybe the real issue is that Jamie’s never seen what respect looks like in his life. Maybe the flaw was never in Isaac as a captain or a player, if this was the man who should’ve taught him what it looked like in the first place.

He tests the waters when Jamie comes to him and Colin panicked after the funeral and tells them he pulled some stupid shit with Keeley (‘the funeral got to me. I don’t know why I said that—Roy’s going to murder me’). Jamie’s got himself all worked up that Roy’s going to talk to the gaffer and they’re going to send him packing—as if—and Isaac tells him full stop that the only way through it is to be responsible for his actions. Tell Roy the truth. Tell him you didn’t mean to step on his relationship, and that you respect him.

Because Jamie does respect Roy. Isaac knows that much. He can see it in the way Jamie followed him around like a lost duckling when Roy first came back to coach. Now that he knows what he’s looking for, he can see it a lot in how Jamie looks at Ted when Ted is doing one of his Ted-talks. He can see it in how Jamie looks at Sam when Sam talks about how Twitter still won’t lay off about the Dubai Air thing but he refuses to let them treat him with disrespect but he also refuses to stoop to their level. Jamie’s respect looks a lot like awe and wonder with just a hint of confusion. Jamie never looks at Isaac like that.

Jamie does take his advice though, and by the end of the season him and Roy seem square. Isaac’ll take the win.

Colin complains that when Roy headbutted him, he got a concussion, but when Jamie gets headbutted he gets a hug.

Isaac and Jamie both go in for a very sarcastic hug at the same time. Maximum silliness reinstated. All is right in the world.

Zava arrives and Isaac, for a while, finds himself swayed and forgetting his purpose as a captain. It’s something he’ll look back at and regret, like the Loony Tunes situation, how he got so caught up in the flow of things that he forgot to ask himself what he should be doing as a captain.

Zava sticks around and Colin gets moved to second string. That, Isaac notices. He may not be the captain he should be, but he knows how to be there for his best friend.

Zava leaves. Isaac, faced with his shortcomings, doesn’t handle it well. He over-corrects and insists on everybody bonding in Amsterdam. He keeps half an eye on the hotel door so he can flag Jamie over when Roy’s done with him, but the night comes and goes and the two of them never show up. When they catch the bus the next morning, the two of them seem better, settled and relaxed the way Roy hasn’t looked all year. Isaac puts that down as another thing to learn: bonding ain’t just about the team. Sometimes the coaches need it too. A year ago he might’ve been worried about Jamie stepping on his heels. He hasn't worried about that in a while.

When Total Football goes awry, he over-corrects again but in the opposite way. Lashes out at Jamie for not scoring goals at his end of the pitch, while Isaac hasn't been holding up his half of the job either. But Jamie's the one with the strategy, and he explains it in a way that makes it seem so obvious to Isaac afterwards.

Jamie has respect now. From the team. From the coaches. From Isaac.

And there's Isaac, and he's still missing shit that should be so obvious.

“I told you boyo. You’re seeing things that aren’t there. You don’t have nothing to worry about,” Colin tells him one week.

The next week finds Isaac footing it after his best friend because Colin's a judgmental arsehole when he wants to be, but this time he's off the mark. The ladies who sent photos to their fellas didn't do anything wrong. Whatever girls sent photos to Colin, Isaac will sort it out. He's not happy that this is the side that Colin’s come down on, but they’ll work it out. He’s his best friend; they’ll work it out. He doesn’t have anything to worry about.

It takes holding Colin's phone in his hand for Isaac to realize he's never seen his best friend with a girl.

It’s like he’s the epicenter of an atom bomb, the way the world fizzles away to nothing in his ears, thoughts blown far from the radius until all he could do is hand the phone back and walk away.

Another one of those things he should’ve noticed, but didn’t. Except worse.

He tells Colin everything, and it feels like Colin’s lied about everything.

It hurts. It’s a ball of rage so deep it takes him out at the knees, and it makes him want to do worse than throw a chair at the TV.

For the next month there’s no cheat-day mimosas. There’s no impromptu late-night FIFA matches and avoiding Roy’s wrath when he catches them yawning the next morning. Colin slinks around him in the locker room and makes jokes with the other lads and looks to Isaac for a sign of a smile like this is just a tiff. Like any day now Isaac’s going to roll his eyes and say ‘okay I’m over it we’re square now.’

Isaac doesn’t know how to be over it. He feels himself tearing up just thinking too hard about it. When he doesn’t say anything back and Colin looks away in disappointment, Isaac wants to do worse than throw chairs.

Isaac’s always tried to make sure he gets what he deserves, but he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this.

If this were anybody else it wouldn’t be happening, he’d call Colin and game plan that shit. But it is Colin, and given the potentially sensitive nature, what Isaac really needs is someone who won’t ask too many questions.

That’s what he tells himself when he hits up Jamie to see if he can carve out some time to grab a drink with Isaac, between Roy’s insane extra workouts and the team’s new everyday insane workouts.

He needn’t have worried about spilling any secrets. Jamie wasn't Colin. Colin had an unassuming way of under-reacting that makes you feel like you could tell him anything and he wouldn’t bat an eye. Which is false—what he actually does is he lets you pour your heart out and then tells you you’re being an idiot (judgmental prick).

Jamie on the other hand finds a bone to pick and then natters you into fighting over it, and before Isaac knows it they’ve spent two hours arguing about the end of Inception and he hasn’t once thought about Colin and the huge, stupid secret Isaac’s got locked inside his chest.

Isaac invites Jamie out again two nights later, when the breathing gets tough. Then again on the weekend, when its starting to dawn on Isaac how a Colin-less life makes a calendar feel like an empty hallway after the party’s over.

He spends a month patching over the Colin-holes with Jamie-shaped gauze.

For a shit month, it's pretty enjoyable.

Around week two they go on a shopping spree. An honest to god break out the champagne full fucking wardrobe shopping spree. (Colin doesn’t really like shopping; Jamie isn’t Colin). When they finish ransacking the first store, Jamie lays down his card and tells the shop assistants, "It’s on me." Isaac gets the tab at the next place. He talks Jamie into expanding his pallet to include more summer colors – sneaks a sky blue hoodie into the pile when Jamie isn’t looking – and in return Jamie hypes him up to hell and back, saying he looks mad fit every time he comes out of the dressing room while daring Isaac into trying some basic color blocks ("Not everything needs a print, mate"). He even finds Isaac a pair of pink-tinted sunglasses that are surprisingly tasteful.

The thing is it's become a habit, Jamie hyping him up. Going on a year later, most days him and Jamie are still swapping pictures of their outfits each day. Slowly but surely, Jamie's style has stopped looking like ‘DSQUARED2 but only the lame parts.' His style now is fresher, more dialed in. Occasionally, Isaac will admit, he looks fucking fly. Not as fly as Isaac, but the effort's there.

(Colin’s fashion choices are atrocious—if he ever complimented him, Isaac would burn the outfit on the spot.)

When they finally split afterwards, Jamie pulls him into a tight hug and thanks him like Isaac’s the one who’s done him the big favor, instead of Jamie being the one anchoring Isaac to sanity.

After a month he's mad at Colin, and he’s mad at himself for still being mad at Colin. He doesn't know how to fix it.

But no one, absolutely no one, is allowed to throw hate at Colin.

The damn breaks when Isaac isn’t ready, and then Roy's pulling him back and he's in the locker room yelling and all the unfairness and the anger and the guilt and the missing-Colin boils to the surface, and Isaac is gonna cry if he doesn’t get out of there.

Isaac isn’t so far gone that he forgets about the armband, the weight of the thing he’s earned but certainly doesn’t deserve right now. He leaves with Sam, with his steadiness and grace and discernment. He'll either keep it safe or give it back, depending on which way the scales tip for Isaac when he leaves the room.

Roy sets him straight. A year ago Roy’s lessons were sharper, lessons under streetlamps that you had to fight through yourself. Since Amsterdam, he’s been as soft with the team as Isaac’s ever seen him. He doesn’t know what Jamie did to bring that out, but he feels a similar softness in himself when Jamie corners him after the game to tell him what went down in the locker room after he left.

Colin came out to the team.

Colin came out to the team for Isaac.

“Everyone was really supportive about it,” Jamie reassures him. He’s tugging his ear, an awkward tick he’s picked up from Sam, and he’s not quite looking Isaac in the eye but Isaac can’t look anybody in the eye right now either so that checks out. “About him, but also about you, in case it were you too.”

That'd be a new level of drama even for this team. Isaac snorts. “Nah, it wasn’t me.”

Jamie huffs, “Yeah. Didn’t think so.” Then he pauses for a second and adds, “But if it ever was something, you could let us know, yeah? We’re here for Colin. We’d be here for you too. If you're upset about something, you can just tell us. You don't got to spend a month making excuses to hang out.”

It’s Isaac’s turn to instigate one of those crushing hugs. Jamie hugs back just as tight.

There’s too much going on for one day, a red card and Roy Kent telling him to calm down and sort himself out and Colin—fuck he’s got to talk to Colin—but one of these days—

—it’s been poking at the back of his mind, the way that Jamie sometimes is a bit like a can of Lynx. It smells like Lynx and it looks like Lynx but sometimes Isaac suspects he only thinks that because he saw the label first. Another one of those things that he learns that'll make more sense after Isaac figures it out, he’s sure. That's for another day.

For now Colin hears him out. Colin lets him talk. Colin says something about one-percent uncertainty feeling like ninety-nine percent terror, and it strikes a chord, harmonizing with the uncertainty he’d felt over the idea that if Colin lied about one thing, then Colin lied about everything.

Colin doesn’t lie to him. Isaac should’ve remembered that. He should’ve let the ninety-nine percent truth bury out the one-percent lie.

Colin does that thing where he lets Isaac talk himself into numerous dumb dead-ends and only sort of mocks him for it afterwards. Judgmental prick. Lighthearted arsehole. Isaac missed him.

He’s so fucking grateful for the return of Colin-time that a good month goes by. Issac doesn't clock the fact that he’s not hung out with Jamie for a while until fucking Roy Kent side-swipes him with it out of nowhere. Roy had been looking for Jamie, and Isaac quips without thinking, "why would I know where he is? I thought you two were attached at the hip these days?"

Roy grits his teeth and says, "Would’ve thought you’d know, you being best friends and all."

He says it with emphasis, like he’s quoting something. Someone. Jamie. Like he’s quoting Jamie.

He says it as if it’s not news to Isaac’s ears.

He says it and Isaac feels like a fucking idiot. He'd replaced his actual best friend with Jamie for like a month, and Jamie had let him even though Jamie knew Isaac was full of shit and making excuses to hang out. And Jamie was being supportive, stepping back and skipping out on cheat-day mimosas while Colin and Isaac re-navigated years’ worth of late-night conversations, now with the pronouns flipped over.

Colin was Isaac’s best friend. But if Jamie thought Isaac was his best friend—

Well.

Isaac wasn’t in the habit of keeping things he hadn’t earned. If Jamie thought Isaac was his best friend, then Isaac was going to earn it.

Maybe he could convince him to start with a haircut.

[cutiekelley]

kay but

what dirt does he have on Wolfie?? 😭😭😭

[kasieli]

oof...still writing this second half of the Homecoming chapter for What Happens Undercover and crap it might make me have to rewrite the entire fic

[kowwpow]

I’m gonna be out most of the day bc I’ll be helping my dad with a big shopping trip plus being out after, so I’m going to be super duper exhausted

I don’t do well in crowded or loud places in the slightest, I get woozy and tired and I feel miserable or like I’m gonna pass out, and if the shopping isn’t gonna make me wanna cry, the outing after will bc it’s gonna be packed with lots of noise and people

I don’t say this because I want to complain, I just wanna give a super quick warning that I might not be active tomorrow as well as today bc when I get exhausted, my mental health tends to decline as well ;-;

so- a bit of a warning that I may poof a bit (sorry! 😣)

[telesodalite]

Really slogging through this month creativity-wise, so... uhhhh??? Various scavengers headcanons in no particular order??

Putting them below in case it gets too long 👁👁👍

-

: Misfire has freakishly good handwriting. He won't say why, claiming it's just pure talent or something, but in truth it's because he spent most of his academy days stuck in some form of detention writing rules, regulations, and flight calculations over and over again until some form of perfect standard academic print became muscle memory as a side effect.

: Misfire also has an uncanny ability to mimic people's voices and various sounds. Lots of time to kill throughout his life led to some odd talents. Can't hit a high note to save his life though.

: Speaking of high notes, Krok is mildly sensitive to loud noises. Being on the frontlines for most of the war left him with an on and off again tinnitus. Certain loud noises trigger it, causing his audials to glitch and statically ring with feedback.

: Both Krok and Crankcase suffer from the occasional migraine, with Krok's being more akin to a silent migraine, and Crankcase's being more severe and frequent due to the head trauma.

: Krok has a habit of collecting old personal logs and journals from the abandoned bases and stations they pick through. They have no value, but it mattered to someone once, and their perspectives and experiences are recorded within. He's not sure what he's going to do with all of them, but he often finds himself reading through their words again and again.

: Spinister is often incredibly quiet despite his size, and frequently unintentionally sneaks up on everyone. The mix of his controlled footfalls, and softer way of speaking, (outside of stressful moments at least), have led to the others nearly jumping out of their own frames when he seemingly just pops up behind them to ask a question or check-in.

: This quietness makes Spinister an incredibly scary opponent in close-quarters, as at any moment he could slink around a corner, and next thing you know, there's a rotor blade protruding through your chest. As you bleed out, he finally makes noise by loudly, and cheerily proclaiming he "got one!' :D

: Krok is also a fairly tough opponent in close-quarters. While he's skilled in a range of weaponry, mostly shotguns and sidearms, it's when he doesn't have range that things can get brutal. Think martial arts meets some sort of nightmare soccer strategy with a knife. Lots of broken legs and shattered kibble as he brings opponents down to his level, or rather, the floor.

: Post-war though, Krok often gets caught in a flashback, and sort of checks out during or after the fight. Especially at the sight or sound of any spinal breaking or tearing, he'll freeze and has to be pulled back to safety until he's with them again.

: Despite how much he tried, and still tries, to become something of a marksman, Misfire would honestly do better with hand-to-hand. His previous instructors and leaders knew this, and sorta kinda hoped he would pursue it for the sake of actually being useful during grounded combat. But nah, its not what he wants to do. Until he's forced to at least, then he's a menace who has no qualms with playing dirty. Only problem is his lack of training, which more often than not ends up biting him in the aft.

: Krok also sees Misfire's potential, but trying to teach him any legitimate strategy goes nowhere. Usually during sparring, Misfire taunts Krok into dropping any strategy himself, pissing him off to the point they're both beaten and bloody and heaving on the floor, because Misfire won't back down, and Krok is still very competitive at his core. It's a good way to blow off some steam tho, even if no one is learning anything from it.

: Crankcase hates close combat, and greatly prefers a comfortable distance in any situation. Fulcrum would probably rather kiss an organic than willingly put himself in close-quarters with someone trying hurt or kill him. So sparring isn't really much of an interest to either of them. Crankcase pulls the medical exemption card when asked, and Fulcrum tried every excuse when the others attempted to teach him something. Ultimately he was tossed into a few sparring lessons whether he liked it or not. A few kicks and one hell of a punch from Krok, a couple enthusiastic tackles and strangleholds from Misfire, and one very scary attempt to escape Spinister only to end up on the floor in seconds, and he quickly reconsidered self-defense.

: On the topic of floors, Fulcrum is quite the architectural nerd, and greatly enjoys getting to freely explore and pick around through abandoned bases and colonies. While the decline in Decepticon style and grand structural flair post-empire is disappointing, and frankly a lost art in his eyes, he still finds the more practical run-of-the-mill bases and structures just as fascinating, and can and will ramble on about the materials and structural details. Finding remaining blueprints is a rare and exciting achievement that no one else but him really appreciates :(

: Misfire, despite being all for their whole scavenging thing, isn't terribly keen on the whole exploring abandoned places angle of their work. He's not terribly claustrophobic, like most fliers, but certain spaces send a chill up his spine. Something about a place that should be full of noise and life sitting empty and quiet just doesn't sit right with him. Add a hint of his neither here nor there superstitious beliefs, and half of these derelict places might as well be haunted or cursed. Fulcrum finds this incredibly amusing, because, psh, its just an empty building? There's literally no rational thing to be scared of, like organics, or pirates, or killer plants, or blood walls, or small organics, or Autobots, or bugs, or wooden frames, or big organics, or the DJD, or ceiling brains, or cops, or- etc etc. So, get over it, lol. They all think it's weirdly hypocritical tho, since Misfire tends to be the most casually morbid. Totally chill with dead people, just not "dead" spaces. Perfectly fine on the remains of a battlefield, hates being near an actual tomb.

: Crankcase sometimes hangs back from scavenging trips, either making some excuse about fixing something on the ship or not feeling well, just so he can work on a small collection of handmade starship models he's been making from scrap in secret. He's a little embarrassed about it, hence the secrecy, but it's a hobby that brings him a lot of joy. Cons4eva was the first person he showed them to, and after some encouraging feedback, he showed the others, and was a little taken aback and suprised when the rest of the scavs found his creations really impressive and neat.

: After that, sometimes the others would buy or steal actual models from markets and such to bring Crankcase. Misfire is usually the one stealing things, but it was Fulcrum who somehow pocketed and made off quietly with a very rare and expensive model he remembered being a favorite of Crankcase's.

: Generally they all apply the five finger discount approach to shopping. But Misfire and Spinister are the best at it, with Misfire being very good at causing a distraction, and Spinister just naturally having a habit of quietly picking stuff up as he goes along. Krok sometimes overthinks it too much, Fulcrum almost always hesitates, and Crankcase just doesn't often care enough to try.

: Misfire isn't allowed to go out shopping alone tho since the incident...

: Spinister also isn't really allowed to go shopping alone, but for reasons not relating to stand-offs with local law enforcement. He always forgets the list, and just comes back with random items that caught his attention, some paid for some stolen. He bought a giant alien squirrel once. It "disappeared" not long after, much to his disappointment, but everyone else knew Fulcrum left the cargobay door open on purpose.

: Krok and Fulcrum shopping together is simultaneously as efficient as it gets and also pointlessly drawn out. They're going to argue about something inane while going over what goes on their strict list of necessities, then be in and out of the store casually and without any trouble or unnecessary purchase. Consider stopping for lunch afterward, argue over where to eat, then have a pleasant vaguely gossip-y lunch, and then have another argument about the directions getting back to the W.A.P. "Maybe we should stop and ask for directions.", and "We have a perfectly good map, we don't need directions." can go either way depending on their moods.

: That said, Krok and Fulcrum get into a lot of very pointless arguments, for reasons Fulcrum can't pinpoint and Krok doesn't care to disclose. Fulcrum tries to deescalate more often than not, but after a certain amount of snide remarks, he gets very petty about it. Unfortunately Krok is yet again, still competitive, and will dethrone any reigning monarch of pettiness that day if his hand is forced. This is entertaining to everyone but Fulcrum. Don't dare try and interrupt tho, or you'll get caught in the crossfire. Spinister tried to mediate once... it went poorly. Misfire likes to make it worse tho >:)

: Personally, Spinister does not like to argue, and if he finds himself in a heated argument or verbal fight, he'll just straight up leave. Without a word, just up and gone. Won't bring it up either, might as well have never happened. This is simultaneously a blessing and a curse for everyone else.

: Misfire likes to argue, or rather, he likes to debate. Especially about random topics, just for the hell of it. Spinister doesn't tolerate it, Krok will humor it occasionally, Crankcase sometimes plays along also for the hell of it, and Fulcrum sorta missed the whole "for the hell of it" part, and will legitimately debate back because wtf do you mean "is cereal soup?"!?

: Out of the whole group, only Misfire and Fulcrum can really "cook", in the sense that they're the only two capable of making more than one thing from scratch. But, they cook very differently, and the kitchen can become very hectic if they're cooking together.

: Fulcrum is more the type to follow a recipe to the T, very precise with each measurement, and careful with all the cheaper additives and "recycled ingredients" they have to work with. He likes a challenge, but he's also not particularly adventurous, so he doesn't stray too far from the basics. That way it's almost therapeutic, just following a recipe, and going through the motions. He tends to clean as he goes, figuring that just makes it easier for him after he's done. Getting the first bite or best of whatever he's made is obviously a justifiable reward for that effort.

: Misfire on the other hand, is the type to throw whatever tastes good in a pot or pan and somehow make something miraculously edible out of it all. Recipe-smeshipe, it's all about flavor and texture for him. You measure with your spark and your tank. The sweeter or spicier or both, the better. Food is a journey in his opinion, the newer and weirder the neater. If you see an optic float to the top of your bowl, awesome, lucky you! He uh, totally intended to put that in there... totally. Oh, and don't ask what's in the drink, you don't want to know. The kitchen looks like a warzone when he's done, and he's probably not going to clean it.

: Put them in the kitchen at the same time? You'll probably get a very decent dinner and desert, but it's going to take a bit before there's something to put on the table. Outside of the times Fulcrum has chased Misfire out with a kitchen knife and an actually decent aim, and that one time Misfire wasted a whole cake by shoving Fulcrum's face in it, it's mostly just a whole lot of bickering and minor food fights before they put their heads together and compromise. It's a rare occurrence, but also very worth it for everyone else.

: Spinister can't cook, but he can dice and slice like a pro. Krok can make like, one thing from scratch, and that's it, that's his thing, his one thing, but he's good at it. Crankcase just doesn't want to cook, he's fine living off their equivalent of coffee, beer, and ibuprofen.

: The temperature control of the W.A.P is caught in a silent war between them all. Krok and Fulcrum naturally run cold, Fulcrum more so than Krok due to a predominantly hollow frame, so a warmer temp is more comfortable. But Misfire and Spinister run warm, very warm in Misfire's case, so cooler is better. Crankcase could go either way, so he enjoys hijacking the thermostat just to mess with the others whenever he likes it. Ultimately the W.A.P itself is winning the war though, since it resets itself on a whim outside of anyone's control.

: Grimlock isn't participating in the "war", but due to his poor bodily control early on, he fluctuates wildly between being very cool and very warm, and is an unfortunate victim caught in the crossfire -_-

: Outside of the Captain's quarters, most of their rooms weren't originally bedrooms/bunkrooms.

: Misfire's room used to be the ship lab, but he converted half of it to be his quarters and the other half for collecting and mixing the energon they've scavenged. It's like if a circus, a frat room, a butcher shop, and a osha violation of a laboratory got turned into a bedroom. There's colorful string lights hanging from the walls, and an cracked TV that's always on in the corner, sometimes with music playing at the same time. He shoved two berths together and covered them in thick worn cushions and various mismatching pillows. The remaining lab holds glowing canisters full of various organs, with drip lines spiderwebbing haphazardly across them into portable vats. Vials of energon and other various bodily fluids fill the spaces between. Depending, sometimes a partial corpse is resting on the lab counter, only halfway siphoned and emptied of it's internals before Misfire got distracted from working.

: Crankcase's used to be a storage room, but he's converted it into both a sleeping quarters and a workshop. While he often just works and repairs things in the cargobays for convenience, anything requiring more attention or precision ends up in his room. Tools and soon-to-be repurposed junk alike hang from the walls, and shelves and the floor are lined and cluttered with even more parts and pieces. It's very work focused, but there's a poster or two here and there, a small radio to keep up with what's going on in whatever sector there in, and the box of starship models shoved underneath his berth. The berth itself is fairly simple, worn cushions, just enough pillows to keep his helm protected, and a thin blanket in case he gets cold.

: Spinister technically has a room, one of the few rooms that had originally been a bunkroom, but he never really did anything with it ouside of simply shoving as many berth together to sleep on. More often he just sleeps in the medbay instead of dragging himself to "his" room. Other times he just sleeps in Krok's room, because the captain's quarters has the biggest not-shoved-together berth on the ship, and with Krok barely using it himself due to raging insomnia, Spinister's not letting those nice cushions and padding go to waste.

: The captain's quarters probably used to be nicer, neater, and more spacious, back when the W.A.P was just an Autobot exploration vessel, but Krok has filled as much of the space as possible with an overflowing desk, crates full of their most precious/expensive cargo, multiple crowded bookcases, a small personal arsenal, a secret cooler he had Crankcase install after one too many stolen drinks, and that large cozy berth that everyone but him seems intent on sleeping on.

: Like Crankcase, Fulcrum also ended up taking an old storage room, as the idea of taking Flywheels' room just didn't feel right. But besides the desk he maintains for working at and storing personal items in, and his berth, shoved in corner and piled high with padding and pillows, the rest of the room is still used for storage and organization of salvageable technology and more delicate items that he and Crankcase trade back and forth between their rooms to each repair and work on. On the days he's losing the thermostat war, he's got a small heater he runs to keep the chill out. A cold room reminds him too much of Styx, so nice and toasty it is. Keeping it toasty also has the added benefit of warding off Misfire from interrupting his work.

: None of them have particularly healthy or "normal" sleeping habits, mostly due to inconsistent energy and energon levels, but also for a range of reasons.

: During longer trips from sector to sector with no stops and little fuel, they all sort of enter a vaguely hibernating state of fuel conservation. Which just means they nap on and off again for most of the trip.

: All of them suffer from nightmares, but Crankcase also gets sleep paralysis, and Krok and Fulcrum have night terrors.

: Krok's insomnia probably wouldn't be as bad as it is, if it weren't for him making it worse by actively choosing not to sleep until absolutely necessary. He hates the fear and confusion of night terrors, and struggles with rumination while trying to sleep. So, he pushes himself until his body almost shuts down for him. This concerns everyone, but particularly Spinister and Fulcrum.

: Spinister sleepwalks and sleeptalks. Sometimes coherently enough none of them can tell that he's actually asleep unless he wakes up mid-sentence or falls over. Mostly he just comes into someone else's room and stands silently over them, before either waking up or wandering off to curl up somewhere not made for sleeping to keep sleeping.

: Misfire just sleeptalks, both quietly and loudly, about any and every topic imaginable. Often incoherently, but sometimes not, other times it's basically a confessional slew of things the others usually silently agree on not bringing up when Misfire's awake again.

: They're all restless, either physically, mentally, or both, and struggle with falling asleep unless utterly exhausted. But once asleep, they each have different ways of sleeping.

: Fulcrum always curls up, which isn't great for his shoddily replaced joints, but it's a hard habit to beat.

: Krok tries to sleep on his side, but usually ends up on his stomach despite how instinctually wrong it feels to leave his back "unguarded".

: Spinister is either splayed out or curled up, rarely any in-between.

: Crankcase usually sleeps like he's in a casket, and often looks the part.

: Misfire shifts and moves so much it's probably a miracle he hasn't pulled or torn his own wings by accident.

-

So, wow, huh, it got long lol. But also I'm tired, so, yeah, that's good enough for now perhaps. Might do more later, since these are like, very basic ones, and it definitely didn't cover much with Flywheels, Grimlock, Nickel, and any others. But I'll get to those later. Probably. Hopefully.

Mostly doing this for myself tho, just to compile a bunch of random notes in one place. But if y'all read this far, cool <3

Also, if you see some and think, hmm, that sounds familiar? Yeah, probably is. Picked up a lot from fics and others ideas, and it all just sorta ended up in my garbled notes to save as inspiration for fics or drawing at some point. So, it's here now too, and that probably goes for any possible future hc posts as well.

If you see any that sound vaguely like yours, or are something you've thought of before, or aren't listed here at all, then I love you, you're brilliant, tell me more of your hcs pls and thank you <333

[theusernameiwantisntavailable]

Persona 5/ Persona 5 royal spoilers ahead!

Okay so I did this WIP a while back that I discontinued but I'm still going insane about the meaning of it and also the symbolism of masks in this game and also akeshu parrallels so I need to Yap abt them

Yap session under the cut!

The symbolism of masks in this game drives my so batshit insane actually. Like. So often we see in media that people are finally free when they take their mask off (both metaphorically and literally) but in this game we see people's true forms when they put one ON.

Like the palaces are where we see people's true faces and desires. It's the place where no one can hide who they are. And yet it's one one place where you wear a physical mask and disguise and have to conceal who you are.

I could (and will at some point) write an entire essay about that but rn it's akeshu hours

Because Joker is arguably the best example of that, he becomes alive in the palaces, where his face his hidden. It's his freedom

Versus Akechi

The first time we see Akechi show his true form to Joker (and the player) is in what is percieved at the time as the real world. The entire time we work together in the palace, the place that shows who you are despite the mask you wear he hides who he is. It's only in the gritty real world that he reveals himself.

Joker in the real world is perceived (at least by people outside of his circle) as closed off and someone to be cautious around, he has a criminal record so he could be dangerous. The exact opposite of how he is in palaces, the centre of the team and a flame people are drawn towards

VERSUS AKECHI

In the real world he is a celebrity, he is loved, people are drawn to him. But in palaces he's cold and heartless, his words are cutting and he cares for no one, not hesitating to kill to achieve his goal

Opposites in every sense

THE ABSOLUTE PARALLELS IT DRIVES ME INSANEASHBANANSJAKSS

They were both ruined by the same man. They both ended up in their current predicament because of said man. They both had the potential to weild multiple personas. They both have the capability to lead. They are the exact same and yet the exact opposite

They don't need to lie awake at night and wonder what would they be like if their life had turned out slightly differently. They don't need to because they have each other. EVERYTIME THEY GO INTO A PALACE THEY SEE WHO THEY COULD'VE BEEN, THEY FIGHT WITH THAT PERSON SIDE BY SIDE EVERY NIGHT I'M GOING MAD

[23z567]

there's something about watching ls videos after watching so many lives/vods that makes it unwatchable. Theres things left out , conversations,words , meanings thrown away, context and clips never to be seen. It feels devoid of any actual interaction or sense of 'Im playing and theres this happening and these are the stakes' IT FEELS SO WEIRD IDONT KNOW

[popcorn-plots]

who you say you are

i feel like shit so here we are

possible TW for discussions of periods and everything that happens during them, like bleeding through three layers of clothing (that was a wonderful night)

Stephen hated his periods. He hated the general feeling of unwellness during that week, and he hated having to clean blood out of everything after he inevitably bled through.. everything. The worst part about it, however, wasn't even the blood. It was the dysphoria. It was the fact that every month, his period would bring the lies of his mind, telling him that he wasn't a real man and never would be. That he was weak for whining about it.

That he was never Stephen and he never would be. That he was too feminine, or that he was never 'good enough' to pass as a man. The worst was his mind telling him that he'd always be a girl, that deep down... he was never Stephen in the first place. He was just little Lucy, trying on her dad's shirt.

On those days, Stephen would curl up on his bed, clutching a hot water bottle. Cloak would hold him as he sobbed, telling himself over and over again, like a mantra, that his name was Stephen Strange. On those days, he would ask Wong not to bother him, despite every fiber of his being yearning to be held, begging for someone to call him handsome and take away the pain.

He didn't think that Wong knew. He was near-positive that Wong had no idea that Stephen was trans. As far as the other sorcerer knew, Stephen was just another man. A man with a broken soul to match his broken hands and scarred chest.

~

It was one of those days (Dark Days, Stephen called them) when Stephen was in his room, clutching a pillow to his chest. A second was between his legs, pressed to his crotch. It was surprisingly helpful when dealing with cramps, the pressure on his lower abdomen easing the discomfort. Unfortunately, he had forgotten his heading pad in the library from when he last used it and when he finally needed it again, he was too comfortable to get it.

Magic was out of the option as well considering just how horrible he felt between the pain, dysphoria, and his hands. It was a bad hand day, because of course, and he really didn't want to move. Which, unfortunately, meant breathing through the pain and trying not to cry.

Eventually, he managed to fall into a light sleep, nodding off then jolting awake again. He woke up in a way that jarred his hands and he groaned. It might be time to sacrifice his comfort for some much-desired relief.

He was mentally preparing himself to climb out of bed when there was a knock at the door. "Stephen?"

Stephen blinked. "..Wong..?"

"You left your heating pad in the library." Wong announced.

Stephen sighed. "I know. Leave me alone."

"I warmed it up for you. I thought you might need it. May I come in?" Stephen didn't respond. Wong had found his heating pad and warmed it up for him. For a second, Stephen wondered if Wong knew, but he had hidden it so well-- "Stephen?"

"...yeah. you can come in."

There was a click as the doorknob turned, then Wong was walking across the room in brisk strides, stopping in front of the nest of blankets that was Stephen Strange. "Here." he set the heating pad down near Stephen's hands. "I also have tea and some of your painkillers. It's raining today."

Stephen let out a shaky breath. Maybe Wong was just looking out for his hands. That would explain it, right? But Wong was never so... caring. Aside from his the week after Everest and his usual quiet help when Stephen needed to handle large stacks of books.

"You're paler than usual. If you turned yourself into a vampire on accident, I will kill you again." Stephen huffed.

"I'm not a vampire."

Wong reached out a hand and felt Stephen's forehead. Stephen nearly froze at the contact, but didn't say anything. He tried to look anywhere but Wong until the hand was gone. "You're not running a temperature."

"I'm trans." Stephen found himself blurting out.

Wong looked at him. Blinked. "Do you need any supplies?"

Supplies...?

"Pads, tampons? You disappear in your room once every four weeks, only coming out for food and when you do, you look horrible. Deathly pale, hunched over as if in pain, it wasn't hard to figure out."

Stephen looked up at his friend. Wong had taken a seat in the armchair next to Stephen's bed -- one of the large library chairs that had found itself in Stephen's room after a few too many vigils of Wong's when Stephen found himself injured.

"You... you never said anything."

"If you wanted me to know, you would have told me when the time was right."

"You... always made my favorite meals."

Wong huffed a rare smile. "I have never menstruated, but I can sympathy. I have a sister. She was always... vocal with.. everything. I did what I could to make her feel better."

Stephen smiled. "It sounds like you love her."

"Very much." Wong was smiling ever so slightly. Stephen found that watching Wong smile seemed to take the pain away.

"What's her name?"

"Li." It was soft, spoken just above a whisper. "You'd like her."

"Li. Pretty name." Stephen sighed. "Mine was-- is--"

"Stephen."

Stephen paused. He stared at Wong. Wong stared back. "Your name is Stephen. You are Stephen Strange. Do not give me your dead name. It is dead for a reason. You are who you say you are, not what someone else wants you to be. You told me on your very first day that your name is Stephen Strange. That is who you are. If you wish for me to use a different name, then I will. I respect you, and I will respect you, whoever you decide to be."

Stephen swallowed, tears pricking his eyes. He refused to let himself cry in front of Wong, of all people. Wong looked at him again and nodded. "You are Stephen Strange. Remember that."

Before he knew it, Wong had closed the door behind him and Stephen was sobbing into his pillow.

A few hours later, Stephen woke up feeling a hundred times better than before. He decided to find his way to the kitchen for dinner, now that the cramps had disappeared.

He found Wong at the stove, making friend rice. Wong's go-to comfort food that had quickly become Stephen's as well."

"Thank you." Stephen whispered. Wong responded by dishing Stephen and himself a large helping of rice.

"Of course, Stephen."