#sorry but this is my favorite music for them

[jays-ageregstuffs]

Answewing all these in 1 go! I love questions!!! Sorry if I'm picky!!

1 - from 6-9 or 2-4

2 - nope but i is a therian and heartthromb!!

3 - 3 years!

4 - both!!

5 - i is so silly :3

6 - about monthly?

7 - music!! 🎶🎶

8 - Toddler 'n big kid!!!!

9 - not weally!!

10 - i don't have an intewnal monologue!! But my accent gets thicker!!

11 - slinky!!! I love slinkies ❤️❤️❤️ and finger paint!!

12 - mainly stress!

13 - blue! But pink can be alwight!!

14 - i like vampires!

15 - dinos 'n space!!

16 - dark pallet!!

17 - don't got any! I dress in mainly graphic ts anyway!

18 - purple or dark green!

19 - nope!! They go on my water bottle!!

20 - coloring book! I can't wead number s tat good!!

21 - play doh!

22 - finger paint!

23 - crayons!!!

24 - nope i is alone! I am own carer tho!!

25 - no babysitter!!

26 - irl i have one sister but not in headspace!!

27 - no! I hide it from them!!!

28 - i like being called bud! Or hun!

29 - museums!!

30 - neither!!!

31 - i like berries! N yogurt!!

32 - apple!!

33 - strawberry or nilla!!

34 - i like 2%

35 - sweet, sour, n savory!

36 - i like cake!

37 - i don't care for choc. But i like hot cocoa!

38 - Mac n cheese. No like chicken nugs. :(

39 - i like night at the museum!

40 - gravity falls or magic school bus!

41 - i like Minecraft but i don't play it!

42 - i like Mulan!! I feel like them!!!

43 - shape shiftin!!

44 - cartoons!

45 - i don't like the carebears!

46 - shows!

47 - no! :)

48 - yeah!! Jschlatt!

49 - yeah! I like thunder 2

50 - depends on what!

51 - yeah! Only if someone regresses with me around tho!

52 - either! I can be independent if i need to!!

53 - yelling :(

54 - no! I love bugs!! (Just not spidys!!)

55 - i love all stuffed animals equally!!

56 - no :( can't afford!

57 - nope!!!

58 - pacis n stuffies!! But i don't need nothing!!

59 - my stuffed hippo!!

60 - sippy cup!

61 - my hippo!! He's 10! But my oldest oldest is 40! Tho he not for playing!!!

62 - a lot of em!!

63 - a lot!!!

64 - my hippo is my favorite :(

65 - build a bear!!

67 - stuffed animal!!!!

67 - no bedtime

68 - no!! I is very bad at writing!!

68 - no rules!

70 - blanket!!

71 - stars!!

72 - stories!

73 - berry picking!

74 - watch YouTube!

75 - blanket fort!

76 - walk!

77 - tea party!

78 - no!! I is too tall!

79 - night owl 🦉🦉!!!

80 - either!

81 - cold! But i like warm too!!

82 - cats!

83 - two cats, five dogs, 12 chickens. Well, my family has em

84 - i like bats!

85 - i really like the winter holidays!!;

86 - i like fall

87 - minor! Not saying!!

88 - i like the mtns of Appalachia!! Or the booths of dos family owned steak houses!

89 - Play-Doh!

90 - soda tabs! And trolls!!

91 - bath toys!! I like showers tho!

92 - masc or neu!!

93 - yess!!! Stim!!!!!!

94 - bedroom!!

95 - probably old tommyinnit or Technoblade vids but they ain't suitable!!!

96 - Roblox or Toca world!!

97 - Park ranger!!

98 - don't got one!

99 - slime!

100 - history!!

100 AgeRe Questions

Credit: pickledratinajar

1🐝 What Age(s) Do You Regress To ~

2🍯 Do You Pet Regress As Well / What Animal ~

3🥮 How Long Have You Been Regressing ~

4🐌 Is Your Regression Voluntary, Involuntary, Or A Mixture ~

5🐻 What's Your Personality Like When Regressed ~

6🐴 How Often Do You Regress ~

7☕ What Helps You Get Into Headspace ~

8📜 Are You A Baby, Toddler, Or Big Kid Regressor ~

9🦇 Do Your Likes Change When Regressed ~

10⏳ Do You Have A Baby Voice In Headspace ~

11🍪 What Makes You Instantly Small ~

12🧋Why Do You Regress ~

13🌙 Pink Or Blue ~

14⭐ Dragons, Unicorns Or Fairies ~

15☁️ Dinos, Princesses, Space Or Safari Theme ~

16💫 Neon, Pastel, Neutral Or Dark Pallets ~

17🐮 Favorite Regression Clothes ~

18🌸 Favorite Color ~

19🐭 Do You Collect Stickers ~

20🧁 Coloring Book Or Paint By Numbers ~

21🍧 Playdoh, Legos Or Slime ~

22🦄 Finger Paint Or Brushes ~

23🧼 Crayons, Colored Pencils Or Markers ~

24☀️ Do You Have A CG / Name For CG ~

25🌻 Do You Have A Baby Sitter ~

26✨ Do You Have Any Sibbies ~

27🧺 Do Your Parents Know About Your Regression ~

28🧋 Favorite Nicknames / Pet Names ~

29🍕 Ideal Playdate ~

30🐱 Sleep In Crib Or With CG ~

31🍼 Favorite Snack ~

32🧸 Favorite Juice ~

33🍪 Favorite Icecream Flavor ~

34🩹 Favorite Type Of Milk ~

35🐶 Sweet, Sour, Spicy, Bitter Or Savory ~

36🍰 Favorite Dessert ~

37🍦 Favorite Type Of Chocolate ~

38⏳ Mac & Cheese Or Nuggets ~

39🎒 Favorite Movie ~

40🍬 Favorite Cartoon ~

41🚀 Favorite Game ~

42🎀 Favorite Disney Princess ~

43⚾ If You Could Have Any 1 Superpower What Would It Be ~

44🍄 Anime Or Cartoons ~

45🍓 Favorite Carebear ~

46✏️ Shows Or Movies ~

47🐛 Do You Believe In Fairies ~

48🐸 Do You Have A Comfort Character ~

49🌱 Do You Like Rain At Night ~

50🦕 Are You Easily Scared ~

51🧃 Are You Also A Carer ~

52🌵 Are You Independent Or Dependent ~

53🍃 What Pulls You Out Of Headspace ~

54🍏 Are You Scared Of Bugs ~

55🦝 Favorite Toy Series ~

56🚛 Do You Use Pacis ~

57🦴 Do You Use Diaps ~

58🦈 Gear Wishlist ~

59🍵 Favorite Regression Item ~

60🐾 Sippy Cup Or Bottle ~

61🦊 Oldest Stuffie ~

62🎃 Do You Sleep With A Stuffie ~

63🔥 How Many Stuffies Do You Have ~

64🍂 Newest Favorite Stuffie ~

65🏵️ Build A Bear, Amusement Park, Or Disney Store ~

66🥧 Stuffed Animals Or Dolls ~

67👽 Do You Have A Bedtime ~ 

68🍭 Do You Keep An AgeRe Journal ~

69⚡️ Do You Have Rules ~

70🍥 Blankie Or Paci ~

71🌈 Night Light Or Glow-In-The-Dark Stars ~

72🌿 Bedtime Stories Or Lullabies ~

73🎩 Favorite Thing To Do Outside While Small ~

74🐵 Favorite Thing To Do Inside While Small ~

75🦋 Blanket Fort Or Bouncy House ~

76🐯 Stroller Or Walk ~

77🔮 Dress Up Or Tea Party ~

78🦜 Do You Like The Playground ~

79💖 Early Bird Or Night Owl ~

80📝 Indoors Or Outdoors ~

81💕 Warm Or Cold Weather ~

82🦢 Dogs Or Cats ~

83☎️ Do You Have Any Pets ~

84💌 Favorite Animal ~

85🍒 Favorite Holiday ~

86🐇 Favorite Season ~

87❤️ What’s Your Big Age ~

88🌼 What’s A Nostalgic Place For You ~

89🐳 Playdoh, Legos Or Slime ~

90🐙 Do You Collect Anything ~

91🐠 Bubble Baths Or Bath Toys ~

92🍑 Are Your Agere Interests More Fem Or Masc ~

93☔️ Do You Stim More While Regressed ~

94🎨 Favorite Place To Regress ~

95🧵 Favorite Regression Youtuber ~

96🌈 Favorite Site/App For Regression Community ~

97💐 What Do You Wanna Be When You Grow Up ~

98📒 What’s The Most Nostalgic Electronic For You ~

99📀 A Toy You Always Wanted But Never Got As A Kid ~

100🪐 What Is Your Favorite Thing To Learn About In Headspace ~

ASK ME! :D <3

[channieschaoscorner]

New Beginnings - Part 2 - Stray Kids x female!9th member

Pairing: Chan x Reader

Summary: You’ve made it to the survival show with your best friend but things are changing. You're friendship is turning into something else and its becoming something neither of you can understand.

Genre: Full on angst (I’m so sorry) 💔

A/N: You guys I need to apologise in advance for this one. No joke, I cried at one point writing this. I feel a little bit evil after the first part was a happy ending by my standards.

I also have like 4 more parts planned out for this so it’s turning into its own series (yay for me, not for your feelings.) I really hope you like it and again I’m so sorry but love you all lots 💕

Part one

Masterlist

────୨ৎ────

The practice room clock blinked 1:42 AM. The rest of the group had long since gone home, too exhausted to keep going. You on the other hand were still there as per usual. You were sitting on the floor, rewinding a part of the track, while Chan sat nearby, notebook in his lap, tapping his pen against the page. He’d come in a little while ago, claiming the excuse of needing a change in scenery.

“Alright,” you said, standing and stretching. “I’ve got five more counts to fix. You still stuck on that bridge?”

“No…” Chan scoffed, even though he was absolutely still stuck on that bridge. “I’m almost done.”

“Bet you I finish this choreo before you figure out your lyrics.” You smirked, walking backwards toward the mirror wall.

“What’s the bet?”

“Loser buys snacks for a week.”

“You’re on.”

You turned the music up and jumped back into the steps while Chan hunched over his notebook, furiously scribbling. Every few minutes, you’d sneak glances at each other in the mirror — catching his eye, smiling when he stuck his tongue out at you.

At one point, you messed up a step and groaned loudly.

Chan looked up with a teasing grin. “Need me to help you out, or…?”

“Please,” you laughed, walking over. “Like you can even keep up with me.”

“I kept up with you for years.” His voice softened, and so did yours.

“Yeah… you have.”

A quiet moment stretched between you before you both shook it off with matching smiles.

“Focus, Bang Chan. I’m winning this bet.”

“Yeah, yeah, in your dreams.”

You kept working side by side, the night blurring into comforting warmth and quiet music, and the unspoken truth that neither of you cared who won anymore.

────୨ৎ────

The clock had slipped past 3AM by the time you finally gave up.

“Okay, truce,” you groaned, collapsing onto the floor with a dramatic sigh. “I’ll buy the snacks. I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

“Deal,” Chan chuckled, dropping his notebook and flopping down beside you, shoulder bumping into yours. “But for the record, your choreography’s insane. The kids won’t survive this.”

“They’ll manage. They’ve got you, haven’t they?”

You turned your head, smiling at him, and he felt something tug in his chest. Something he pushed away and ignored.

“Yeah, well… I’ve got you too.”

It came out softer than he intended, and for a second, neither of them moved.

Then you grinned. “Damn right you do.”

You nudged his shoulder and sat up, rummaging through the snack pile you’d gathered. You handed him his favorite without even needing to ask.

“You always remember what I like,” he said, teasing, but something about the way he looked at you lingered. His eyes a little too gentle, a little too full.

“Well, someone’s gotta look after you. You’d live off energy drinks and stress without me.”

You sat cross-legged on the practice room floor, trading snacks and teasing each other, swapping old stories from your trainee days. Like the nights you snuck extra practice time, the times you had covered for each other, the little victories no one else had seen.

When you laughed at one of his jokes, Chan found himself watching you instead of laughing. The light in your eyes, the way your legs curled to the side, the warmth you carried like it was stitched into your skin. He didn’t realize how long he stared until you caught him.

“What?” You tilted your head and looked at him curiously.

He blinked. “Nothing. I’m just glad you’re here.”

You offered him a soft smile. “I’m not going anywhere, Chan.”

And you both believed that so easily.

Neither of you ready to admit the way your hearts beat too fast in these small, unspoken moments.

────୨ৎ────

The room was buzzing with anticipation as the Stray Kids members sat in a circle, waiting for JYP’s announcement. The survival show had already pushed you all to your limits, but today felt different, something unexpected was coming.

JYP entered the room, his usual calm presence settling over everyone. His eyes scanned the group, before his eyes settled on you. “Alright, everyone, I’ve been thinking about the next challenge. We’ve seen how you all work as a team, but now, I want to see how the two of you will collaborate.”

You caught Chan’s eye for a split second, your stomach fluttering. You tried not to let the nervousness show.

JYP continued, “So for this next stage, Chan and Y/N, I want you two to perform a duet. You’ll have to work together, not just as friends but as leaders. I want to see how well you can communicate and create something meaningful together.”

A sudden hush fell over the room. You could feel the weight of JYP’s words pressing down on you.

You and Chan.

A duet.

Together.

In theory it made sense. You had worked together as friends for years, as teammates, you shouldn’t be nervous but this was something else entirely. A duet was a performance that required you to put complete faith and trust in your partner.

“This stage is going to be emotional.” JYP continued, oblivious to the shift in the room. “I’m not going for something high-energy. I want to see how you both can bring vulnerability and depth. Show us something more. I believe in you two, so I expect you to deliver.”

The challenge hung between you and Chan, like a heavy weight neither of you could lift. It wasn’t just a performance. It was a test of what you could handle, and, more importantly, how much you were willing to expose. The vulnerability that JYP asked for wasn’t something you were used to. But now, it seemed inevitable, you were going to be forced to bare your soul on stage for everyone to see.

Chan’s gaze met yours, and for a moment, everything around you felt like it was in slow motion. The excitement that bubbled up inside you only added to the strange tension you couldn’t place. Was he feeling it too? You didn’t know. You both quickly looked away, pretending to play it cool, but inside, you were both trying to figure out what this meant.

Chan forced a smile, though you could tell it didn’t reach his eyes. “Alright, let’s do this,” he said, trying to make it sound easy. But his voice cracked just a little, and it made your heart race in a way you couldn’t explain.

“Are you two nervous?” Changbin asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed your stiff postures.

“Of course not,” you laughed, but it sounded a little forced even to your own ears. “We’ve got this.”

But even as you said those words, you knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

JYP smiled knowingly. “Good. I’m looking forward to seeing what you both come up with. Take your time, practice together, and figure it out.”

As JYP left the room, the younger members began to chat excitedly, their energy bouncing off the walls. You and Chan stayed silent. The sudden, unexpected reality of what had just been assigned to the two of you was starting to settle in and what it could mean not just for the group but for both of you if you failed.

Failure wasn’t an option, you decided.

No matter what was going to happen.

Later on, when you arrived for your first practice, you found Chan already sitting by the speakers.

“You beat me.” You teased, but it did nothing to ease the tension that had settled in you earlier on.

He smiled, but you could tell it was forced.

You opened your mouth to speak again but hesitated, you didn’t actually have anything to say but you desperately wanted to cut through the silence.

Chan’s eyes dropped to your hands, you were pulling the sleeves down, it was a nervous habit that he’d picked up on a few years ago. His stomach flipped uncomfortably at the thought of you being nervous with him.

“I think I’ve found a song for us to do.” He hit play without waiting for you to reply. You nodded along as the lyrics filled the room. It was emotional, filled with words of longing and love but also fear of losing their person. It was…

“Perfect.” You said, when the song ended.

“Do you think so?” Chan’s hand drifted up to his earlobe, twisting the earring that sat in it.

Your eyes narrowed slightly when he did so, was he nervous as well?

“It will be if we can pull it off.” You pushed through the nerves bubbling in your stomach.

────୨ৎ────

Over the next few days, you had settled into a more comfortable rhythm with each other. The initial awkwardness of having to be so emotional with each, pushed aside as the need to perform well consumed you both.

With the rest of the group preoccupied with their own challenge, you and Chan had been spending nearly every hour of your days together. It was a good thing that you were already friends before this as spending this amount of time with anyone would have most people ready to take each other's heads off from the pressure of it all.

Not you two though, thankfully you had become quite used to living out of each other's pockets in your earlier years when you had been each other's only friend.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been rehearsing today, only that it was dark when you arrived and it was dark now you’d seen when you went to the bathroom earlier. It was easy to lose track of time in the practice room. Caught up in the rehearsals and each other's presence, it wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last.

“You’re going to kill me.” Chan groaned from the floor.

“You’ll live.” You walked over to him holding a water bottle, you nudged his leg with your foot.

He sat up wordlessly, taking the bottle off you with a nod. You ignored his hand brushing over yours, choosing instead to crack your knuckles as if that could remove the tingling sensation left there.

You sat down next to him, too aware that he was still staring at you and you shifted uncomfortably. Desperate to break whatever this feeling was, as Chan takes a long drink from his water bottle, you snatched it out of his hand mid-sip.

“Hey!” he coughs, laughing.

“What? Sharing is caring.” You grin, purposely taking an exaggerated sip.

“You better hope I don’t catch your germs.”

“Maybe I want you to.” It slips out too quickly, too easily, too… too much.

He holds your gaze for a second too long of eye contact.

Your smirk falters.

His gaze drops to the bottle in your hand, then back to your face. Neither of you says anything. You toss it back, and stand up quickly, walking back to your phone to turn the song back on.

“Come on, let’s run this again.”

Chan stands up, ready to jump back into rehearsal mode, ignoring the fact that his pulse is a little faster than it should be.

────୨ৎ────

*3 days until the final performance*

The final performance day was growing closer and closer.

You and Chan have been pushing yourselves to the limit. Only taking breaks from your own rehearsal to check in with the others and help them with their challenges. It took much needed energy out of you but neither of you complained out loud, all too aware of the responsibility on your shoulders.

This responsibility meant that you kept pushing your own practices back later and later until it was almost morning by the time you would finish up, head back to the dorms and get back up to do it all over again.

Tonight was no different.

The fluorescent lights hummed softly above you, casting a gentle glow over the near-empty practice room. It was one of those late nights again. The kind where exhaustion seeped into your bones, where your muscles ached and burned, and yet neither of you could quite bring yourselves to leave.

You sat on the floor against the mirror, legs stretched out, you head tipped back against the glass. A dull, persistent headache throbbed behind your eyes, made worse by the tight pull of your ponytail. You winced as you shifted accidentally catching some of your hair, you closed your eyes in an effort to block out the light for a few seconds of relief as Chan knelt nearby, rummaging through his bag for his water bottle.

He noticed your discomfort immediately.

“You okay?” His voice was soft, almost hoarse from hours of use.

You gave him a tired smile, your hand lazily reaching up to rub the back of your neck. “Headache.”

Chan hesitated for a second, his gaze lingering on you, watching the way your brow furrowed and your shoulders slumped. Without a word, he moved closer, gently batting your hand away.

“Here,” he murmured, kneeling in front of you.

Before you could argue, his fingers brushed against the nape of your neck, tugging carefully at the scrunchie that held your hair back tightly. His touch was careful, a little clumsy. Too intimate for something so simple. You closed your eyes at the warmth of his fingertips.

The soft, worn fabric slid free, and your hair spilled down around your shoulders. The release made you sigh involuntarily. A soft, relieved sound, and Chan felt it like a warm ache in his chest.

“There.” he said quietly, his fingers lingering a beat too long before pulling away.

You opened your eyes, blinking at him. The look between you both was heavy, something unspoken settling in the air around you.

He broke first, eyes falling down the scrunchie in his hand. He hesitated for a second before he tucked it into his pocket without waiting for permission, as if it had always belonged there. And maybe it did. You didn’t object either way, a single thought drifted in the back of your head that you were happy he kept it but you weren’t sure why.

────୨ৎ────

*2 days until the performance*

It was late. Too late, really. The only light in the practice room came from the dimming bulbs overhead which were absolutely going to need to be replaced from how much time the two of you were spending in here. The glow of your phones offered little lighting in the corner of the room. Both of you had been going for hours now, working through every single step, every little move, every note, perfecting it all for the survival show. But your body was beginning to protest, exhaustion creeping in.

You rubbed your arms, trying to get some warmth back into your cold skin. The chill in the air wasn’t helping, and you found yourself shivering, despite how much you had been moving earlier. It wasn’t that you had forgotten to bring a jacket, you had but gave it to Jeongin earlier who had forgotten his even though you reminded him this morning before you left the dorms. Now though in the stillness of the practice room, it was hard to ignore.

Chan, however, was still going, focused on the moves, gliding across the floor with ease, but you could tell his attention was partially on you. He kept glancing over at you, his eyes narrowed slightly in concern as he noticed you rubbing your arms again.

“Hey,” he said, finally turning toward you. His voice was soft, but there was an edge of worry to it. “You okay? You’re shivering.”

You gave him a small smile, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine. Just a little cold. I’ll be okay.”

He didn’t seem convinced. There was something about the way he looked at you, his eyes lingering for just a second too long, that made your chest tighten.

“Hold on a second,” he said, walking over to his bag, pulling out his hoodie. It was oversized on him, the dark fabric a bit worn at the cuffs, but it still had a comforting familiarity to it. You weren’t sure why, but just the thought of him giving you his hoodie made something stir in your chest.

He held it out to you, a gentle smile on his lips. “Here. It’s cold in here. You can wear this.”

You hesitated for a moment, looking at the hoodie. Something about it felt so intimate, like a quiet offering of care that you weren’t sure you were ready for. You had spent years being close to Chan, always side by side, but this was different. There was a subtle tension in the air now, a strange pull between you that you weren’t sure how to describe.

“Thanks.” you said quietly, taking the hoodie from him, your fingers brushing against his for a second. The brief contact sent a jolt through you, and you quickly pulled the hoodie over your head, the fabric swallowing you in its warmth.

As soon as you slipped your arms into the sleeves, you could feel the familiar, comforting presence of Chan’s scent. It was like a shield, like a piece of him that was now wrapped around you. You didn’t know why, but something about wearing his hoodie made your heart race just a little faster.

You looked up at him and saw that he was watching you closely, his gaze soft, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something you didn’t quite understand. He looked… pleased? Maybe even a little proud, but it wasn’t just that. There was something deeper, something unspoken, a quiet kind of longing that lingered between you.

“You look good in it.” Chan said, the words coming out softer than usual, almost shy.

You felt your cheeks warm at the compliment, and you smiled, a little embarrassed. “Thanks.”

There was a brief silence, both of you standing there, not quite sure what to say next. But the tension between you was palpable now, the distance between friends blurring. It was still subtle, but it was there, hanging in the air.

“I’m glad it fits.” he added, and you could tell he was trying to make it sound casual, trying to downplay the strange energy that seemed to have settled around you both. But his eyes were still on you, and you couldn’t ignore the way his fingers absently tugged at the sleeve of his own hoodie, almost like he wanted to pull you closer but didn’t know how to.

“Yeah,” you replied, tugging the sleeves down over your hands. “It’s perfect.”

He smiled, but there was something in his smile that felt a little too heavy. It lingered a little too long, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling the same thing you were — that strange, unexplainable pull between the two of you that you were feeling more and more as these practices went on.

You should have said something, anything, to break the tension. But instead, you both stayed there, silent, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest but neither of you spoke, the words too difficult, too tangled in the space between you.

You couldn’t explain why, but in that moment, wearing his hoodie felt like the closest thing to being wrapped up in his arms. The idea of that alone made your cheeks burn, and for a second you were scared that he would know exactly what you were thinking about.

As you both returned to your positions without a word to continue rehearsing, you caught him stealing glances at you. Every time you caught his eye, you quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks again.

“It’s just a hoodie.” You kept telling yourself but you knew it wasn’t. It was everything. The way he cared for you, the way he always looked after you. You didn’t understand it, but you knew that it was something you didn’t want to lose

────୨ৎ────

*Final rehearsal*

It had been a long night of rehearsals. Endless runs of choreography, fine-tuning the moves for the performance tomorrow. You could feel your body aching and protesting from the exertion, but the weight on your chest was made heavier by the other person in the room.

You were hyper-aware of the space between you and Chan, of the quiet tension that had been building for days. To say it was confusing you would be an understatement. This had never happened between the two of you before, you’d always felt comfortable with him but now? Every moment alone felt charged, like there was a bigger force behind what was happening and you didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t talk to the one person that you would do normally, how do you tell your best friend that your friendship is starting to make your head hurt?

Chan stood across from you, sweat beading on his brow, his breath coming slightly faster than usual. His eyes met yours for a brief second, and you froze. The moment stretched on, like a pulled rubber band that was about to snap, but neither of you moved, neither of you spoke.

Chan’s gaze dropped to his feet for a second, and you felt an inexplicable urge to break the silence, to say anything to break this strange, heavy feeling in the air. But before you could find your voice, Chan stepped closer, the space between you narrowing.

“Let’s run it again,” he said, his voice low, a little breathless.

You nodded, not trusting your voice, your heart racing as your eyes followed his every movement. He was so close now, too close, but neither of you seemed to back away. It was like your bodies were drawn to each other without your permission.

You forced your feet backwards, ignoring what felt like your own nerves protesting against you and found your starting position. He remained still, watching you carefully, he knew you were on edge and wish you’d tell him why. It was driving him insane, he wanted to ask you what was wrong but was afraid of the answer you would give him.

He shook his head, as if he could shake the stress straight out of it and found his own position. The music kicked in and the two of you began to move. Despite what you both were feeling, you couldn’t deny that you performed well together. Countless months of training as trainees had meant that you were familiar with each other's movements. The only difference in this routine was the meaning behind it, the powerful lyrics about love and longing were dragging up something in the both of you that neither of you had been prepared for, and so you both continued to shove it away and pretend it didn’t exist.

The final moment in the performance was always hard to pull away from. It ended with one of Chan’s hands on your waist and the other holding your face. Your own hands rested on his chest. The more it was rehearsed, the harder and harder it became to force yourself to step out of his embrace.

The music ended and once again, in his arms you felt suspended in time, your body held close by him, the feeling of his chest rising and falling under your fingertips. The music had faded into a quiet hum. Both of you were standing there, breathing in sync, eyes locked for a second too long.

You felt his hand on your waist, his fingers warm through the fabric of your clothes. You stood there, unwilling to move and tired of arguing with yourself that you needed to step away. The moment stretched on, thicker than any choreography you’d rehearsed before. Something felt different. Your chest tightened, and your heart picked up speed, as if it could escape your ribcage at any moment. You were terrified that he could hear in, no idea how you could explain this if he could.

Chan didn’t move, didn’t break the connection. Neither of you dared to speak, both of you caught in the tension that hummed between you like static electricity. His fingers flexed and gripped your waist tighter. His thumb moved ever so slightly on your cheek, so fleeting he could argue that it didn’t happen at all.

His eyes flickered to your lips, and just for a brief moment, everything stopped completely. The air was so thick you felt dizzy, certain that without his grip you’d have fallen in seconds. The closeness, the quiet, the stillness overwhelming.

It was almost too much to bear.

And then, so gently, so slowly, as though drawn in by an invisible force, Chan leaned forward. His lips brushed against yours, like a soft whisper, barely a touch, like a question that didn’t need to be answered. His breath mixed with yours, warm and uncertain, leaving you paralyzed for a moment, unsure if it was even real.

You felt the ghost of his lips against yours, soft and fleeting, and then it was over.

He pulled back, but still neither of you moved. You were both frozen, staring at each other as if you’d crossed some kind of invisible line. The reality of what had just happened hung between you like a dense fog. Neither of you could breathe properly, the weight of the moment pressing down harder with every passing second. You could feel the cracks starting to appear between you.

“I—” Chan’s voice cracked slightly, as though he were trying to find the words, but they weren’t coming.

You opened your mouth to speak, to say anything, but no words came. Your throat felt tight, like it was holding something back, something too heavy to say out loud.

“Sorry.” Chan muttered, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to—”

You shook your head, your hand instinctively going to your lips, the heat of the moment still burning.

“It’s… it’s okay. I don’t know what—” Your voice faltered, and you could hear your heartbeat hammering in your ears, loud and deafening.

Neither of you knew what to say.

“I just… I need a minute,” you said quickly, your breath shaky as you stepped back from him. You couldn’t stay in the same room with him, not now, not after that. You were too scared, too confused.

Chan nodded, his hand dropping from your waist, clenching into a fist at his side. “Yeah. Me too. I just… I didn’t—”

You didn’t wait for him to finish. You grabbed your things quickly, your hands trembling as you shoved them into your bag. Every movement felt clumsy, like you were trying to outrun something you couldn’t understand. You didn’t dare look at him, not now. Not after that.

Chan opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but he didn’t. He just nodded slowly, his face strained, as if he was trying to understand everything just as much as you were.

You didn’t look back when you walked out of the practice room. The cold air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, but it didn’t do anything to calm the storm inside your chest. You felt your heart pounding, your thoughts a whirlwind.The kiss had been so soft, so fleeting, almost like it hadn't happened, and yet, it had managed to change everything.

What had that kiss been? Why did it feel like everything was changing between you two, and why did it terrify you so much? You were scared. You were scared that you’d lost him. Scared that if you let yourself feel what you wanted to feel, you’d ruin the one thing you’d always relied on.

No.

It was nothing, right?

Nothing but a slip-up.

You repeated that like a mantra to yourself, ignoring how your chest ached, your thoughts swirling, your heart tangled in the mess of emotions you didn’t have words for. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. You didn’t know if you were relieved that it was over so quickly or terrified of what it could mean. You didn’t know if you’d be able to face him again tomorrow without feeling the weight of what had just happened.

An image of the performance tomorrow in front of the others appeared and you banished it far from your mind, as far as it could possibly go.

The thought of losing him, of messing up what you had. It terrified you more than you wanted to admit. You wanted him so badly, and that terrified you too. You couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not after everything the two of you had been through but you couldn’t stop going back to it.

How could you possibly stop thinking about it?

He had kissed you.

No matter how hard you tried, how hard you pushed them away, it kept coming back. The closeness, the feeling of his lips against yours. It was soft, gentle but there was something hovering behind it. Something full of longing, full of things unsaid.

And it terrified you.

You didn’t know what that kiss meant but you knew one thing:

You couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen, couldn’t pretend that you didn’t want to kiss him again, that you didn't want to turn around run right back in there to him and despite all of that, you knew you were going to have to.

So for the first time in years, you walked home alone. You kept pushing yourself forward, reminding yourself how much of a mess this would cause if you admitted the truth, admitted how you actually felt, what it would do to you both so you ran.

Ran further away from the JYPE building, further away from that stupid practice room and further away from him.

────୨ৎ────

Taglist: @m-325 @imeverycliche @mythicmochi @hynjnnie @mbioooo0000

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my Taglist <3

[treatmelikeasmut]

The Artist and the Engineer//Part 3 Pose Reference

<<PREV Master List NEXT>>

Pairing: Viktor x Fem!Artist!Reader

Series Synopsis: Heimerdinger wants a commemorative painting done of Viktor, who is not fond of the idea.

Chapter Synopsis: Viktor and the artist are back for their second session. He's being far more cooperative this time. But it seems the artist may have something to hide.

Word Count: 4.3k

Author’s Note: I'm still debating how I want to flip-flop between Viktor and reader. If it's going to be every other chapter, or if it's just going to be however the flow feels right.

Don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog your favorite fics ❤️

~*~*~

You were late.

Super, incredibly late.

You’d gotten in the zone; playing music, working on a commissioned painting. You’d completely lost track of time. It was so easy for it to slip away like that. When you finally decided to take a break, the clock on the wall read five after two. Your apartment was ten minutes from campus if you ran like your life depended on it.

People clogged up the roads and sidewalks, which definitely didn’t help your situation. Some people yelled after you as you shoved through the crowd. You knew all too well the consequences of being late to appointments. You were just glad the spring thaw had finally seemed to be staying. The breeze no longer held its icy bite.

Still, sweat trickled down your spine as you finally made your way through the entry arch of the academy. You paused briefly, shielding your eyes as they hunted for the clock tower. It read 20 after. Cursing under your breath, you hustled towards the main door.

Standing just outside was a familiar face, Fallon, one of your friends who was still working through her undergraduate studies. Usually recognizable by her sizable stack of long, dark curls. She smiled, waving as she called you over. You returned the greeting.

“Hey, how’s it going?” you rushed.

“I just got out of of class, I have a before hours before my next one starts. You want to get lunch?”

“I would, but I have an appointment to keep and I’m running super behind!” You were already halfway through the door. “I’m so sorry, I swear, we’ll catch up soon! I’ll see you later"!”

Fallon called something after you, but it was lost when the door shut. You speed walked down the main corridor, and then turned into the hall that would take you towards the art wing. When you were sure there was no one around, you broke into a jog. You knew Heimerdinger’s assistant didn’t want to be doing this as it was. Being late was not going to help your case any.

Taking a moment, you caught your breath and wiped your sweaty forehead with a clean rag. You could only hope you weren’t too disheveled. Regardless of the paint stains on your clothes, you still had to appear somewhat professional. Running in soaked with sweat and panting was not the way to do that.

You were surprised to see Viktor already in the studio. Well at home on the chaise and deeply engrossed in his book. His long legs were stretched across the cushion, one cross over the other. He didn’t look up as you shuffled passed.

“You’re late,” Viktor observed, not unkindly.

“Yeah,” you panted, “Sorry - give me a moment and I’ll be ready.”

You hurried into the side room, and barely caught his words, “Take your time.”

In the side room, there was a wall of cubies. Each about as wide as your wing span and stretched about a foot over your head. They all had a wide shelf at the top and drawer in the bottom. Some of them were filled to the brim with covered canvases, others held only a sketch pad or an easel, most of them were empty. You were grateful the academy even had a reserved space for alumni artists. Not everyone had the space or the money to have a studio. You had a small corner where you kept your easel and paints in your own apartment. The entrance to your balcony was there, so it offered the best light. Just not the best view, since it over looked one of Piltover’s side roads.

You made your way to the one with a scrap of paper reading your name that had been stapled to the wooden surface. Tossing your bag into the bottom drawer, you dragged out your sketch pad, along with the pouch that held erasers, pencils, and a sharpener. Quickly double checking that no sticky fingers had made off with your extra supplies. Double counted your rolls of paper. Made sure your spare easel and the canvas you’d be using was all accounted for. That canvas was going to need prepped soon. That mental note got tacked to the back of your mind.

“Alright!” you sighed loudly, rounding back into the main studio. “Are we ready to start?”

Viktor looked up at you then, slotting a place holder into his book. His sharp eyes didn’t miss a beat, immediately zeroing in on your non-dominate hand. Narrowing as he studied it.

“Rough day yesterday?” he asked plainly.

You glanced down at the splint bound to your hand with white cloth. It held your ring finger and pinky straight. In the back of your mind, you could still hear the sickening sound of them breaking. Hastily, you shoved your hand in the big pocket of your overalls. You tried very hard not to wince at the pain.

“Something like that,” you told him. You tried to laugh, but it came out strained.

Viktor continued to watch you, as if he were waiting for you to elaborate. It left you feeling a bit like a specimen under a microscope. When you offered nothing he opened his mouth. Then closed it again. Finally, his gaze moved elsewhere.

It didn’t keep the shadows of the Alumni Studio from being oppressive, however. They sat heavy on your shoulder. Squeezed your lungs far too tightly. Making you itch for more than the dusty light coming in the high windows.

“Would you be too terribly opposed to sitting outside today?” you asked, then gestured behind you. “There’s a door not far that takes us to one of the inner court yards. It’s nice enough today.”

“Wherever you will have me.” Viktor shrugged, bringing his gaze back to you. Then he seemed to realize just how his wording came out. Clearing his throat, his ears reddened. Quickly, he corrected, “That is, wherever you wish me to sit.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. He was kind of cute when he was embarrassed. You swiftly erased that thought. “This way.”

Viktor trailed after you as you lead him out the side door and into another long hall lined on one side with windows. It was quiet between you, just the clink of his cane on the floor to let you know he hadn’t run off. A chill chased from the nape of your neck down your spine.

Finally, you came across the door to the court yard. The entire thing was relatively bare. Just a large circle carved from the same white stone as the rest of the building. There were a few low benches with arms, along with a sprinkle of large basins full of shrubs and moss. A couple trees grew from well maintained raised beds. You lead Viktor to your favorite one.

“Here,” you said, pointing to a bench backed by neat bushes.

Viktor sat, then you went to the edge of the low planter wall opposite him. You were both covered by the shade of a tall tree. It was just starting to sprout lively green leaves. You flipped to a new page in the pad. Then rifled through your pouch until your found your favorite pencil.

“I thought we would figure out your pose today,” you said, tapping the end of the pencil against the paper.

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “My pose?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I want to do sketches of potential ones. It’ll help us figure out what will look best. - We also have to consider how comfortable it will be for you. I know what I’m thinking of, but did you have anything in mind?”

“I wouldn’t know -” Viktor awkwardly folded his hands in his lap.

“Try this.” You laughed a little, then moved to the edge of the wall, setting your stuff beside you. You adjusted your posture to be ramrod straight, your body set at an angle with your hands at waist height, cradling air. “Obviously you’ll be holding your book.”

Viktor tried his best to mirror your posture. Glancing at you, eyes flickering over your body. You knew it could be awkward. It was never easy posing people, it often felt too staged.

“Like this?” he asked.

You relaxed, taking a moment to check. Your mind was already doing a preliminary painting. But something wasn’t quite right. You stood, going to him.

“Almost, do you mind if I - ?”

Viktor looked at you for a long moment, then shook his head. “No, no - go right ahead.”

You nodded, then carefully covered the backs of his hands with your own palms. Applying just enough pressure with your fingers to guide him. His hands were smooth and chilled under your touch. You pulled the book a bit farther away from his chest, giving the pose some breathing room. “Hold that there. - Now this is going to feel unnatural, but I’m going to adjust your elbow. Now tilt the book itself back a little bit. We need a nice silhouette.”

You stepped away, looking him over one more time. Still just almost. You hummed, tapping a finger on your chin with the other resting on your hip. Viktor pursed his lips as you took his chin between the knuckle of your forefinger and your thumb. Guiding it to where it needed to be to follow the lines of his body.

“Now turn your hips out just a bit more,” you uttered. He followed suit without a word.

Once more, you stepped away to check composition. Perfect, except for his expression. His brows were furrowed as he stared very intensely at the pages. Without thinking, you placed your thumb between his brows. Trying to get him to relax. You’d done this before, many times, trying to get people’s expressions just right. You felt him go still under your touch, but the creased immediately went away in his surprise.

“Sorry.” You pulled your hand away. “I should’ve asked if it was fine to touch your face.”

“Don’t apologize,” Viktor muttered, glancing at your very briefly. “You simply me caught me by surprise. That is all.”

You were surprised that he was being far more cooperative today. You wondered what had changed in the last two days. Maybe Heimerdinger had said something. As long as it wasn’t about your deal, you’d be fine with whatever he had to say to get Viktor to sit until the portrait was complete. You needed this. Desperately.

“Hold this pose for a minute.”

You returned to your seat, pulling the drawing pad into your lap. You did a quick gesture drawing. Getting the lines right, carving out the silhouette with the side of your pencil. A few places needed smudged with the pad of your finger, blending until it felt right. You saw his hands begin to shake.

“Okay, you can relax,” you told him.

Viktor’s entire body slumped, then he stretched with his arms over his head. You had to admit, he was nice to look at. Long and lithe, the light carved out his features in a way you hoped you could recreate and highlighted the warm undertones in his hair. You looked back down at your sketch. You definitely hadn’t been exaggerating when you told Heimerdinger Viktor had nice features that you couldn’t wait to put on canvas. You laughed to yourself, thinking of your conversation with the professor.

“What is so funny?” Viktor asked lightly. “I most certainly hope my posing wasn’t that horrid.”

You looked up, surprised to see him bent slightly over you. Eyes on what you’d drawn. The intensity of them almost made you bashful about your work.

You shook your head. “Not you, just thinking of something I’d told Heimerdinger.”

Viktor hummed. “Nothing too awful, I hope.”

You chuckled again. “Only that I was glad you didn’t have fur.”

“Really?” Viktor asked, clearly amused.

“It took much longer to paint him because of it. He got a good laugh out of it, though.” You shrugged. “I forgot to ask - how was your day yesterday?”

Viktor straightened up, leaning on his cane. You would have to remember to sketch it. It was a nice cane, finely crafted. You wanted to make sure you got it right when you painted it.

“Eehhh…” Viktor’s eyes bounced as he searched for the right word. “Productive.”

You smiled at him. “I’m glad. I don’t want you to get too behind in your work.”

“Worry not, my partner is seeing to things in my absence.” Viktor hovered, hand readjusting on his cane. His gaze had settled on the branches over head. “I also had some time to reflect. I want to apologize for my behavior - I must not have made a good first impression.”

“It’s fine, really. I know how Heimerdinger can be. I thought he told you. I can’t really blame you for acting the way you did. So, no apology needed.” You stood, if only for something to do.

“Then let us begin anew. On the proper foot, this time.” He held out his hand. “I am Viktor, assistant to the Dean of the Academy and Hextech researcher. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

You found the effort endearing. You took his hand in yours, shaking it as you reintroduced yourself. “Recent University of Piltover graduate. Semi-professional in portraiture. It’s nice to make your acquaintance. I look forward to painting you, I’m very glad that you are not furry.”

Viktor gave you a real smile this time. It was nice to see. It suited him, opened up his face. Making you feel warm inside. You tried to shut that feeling down immediately. But you couldn’t help admiring the boyish charm in it.

“Now, shall we continue?” he asked.

You nodded towards the bench. “Be my guest.”

You walked him through a few more poses. A couple were an immediate ‘no.’ Either they just didn’t look natural on him, or he said it would be too difficult to maintain for long periods. By the end of it, you had settled for something simple. He would sit reclined against the back cushion, one arm resting on the arm of the lounge, the other holding his book. His legs would be crossed, with his left ankle resting on his right knee. Carefully keeping his brace from digging into his skin.

You considered this session a success.

When the clock announced three, you stood to stretch out your back. You were expecting Viktor to take his leave like a rabbit sprung from a trap. Instead, he sat and observed as you began to pack your things.

“Well, that’s the hour,” you announced. Wondering if he was waiting for a proper dismissal. “I figure I won’t keep you longer, I was the one who was late after all.”

“Actually,” started Viktor, “I find I have some spare time. I can stay another hour, if it’s needed.”

You paused. “Are you sure? You don't have to do that.”

He nodded. “Jayce can suffice another hour without me.”

“Alright then.” You couldn’t help but grin. “Since we've figured out your pose, I was wondering if it was okay to sketch your cane?”

Viktor glanced at where it laid next to him on the bench. “My cane?”

“For the painting.”

His expression was unreadable. “You want to include it?”

“Yes?” You cocked your head. “Why wouldn't I? Unless you don’t want it to be? - It’s your picture, at the end of the day. Heimerdinger is just sponsoring it. We don’t have to include anything you don’t want..”

“I -” Viktor frowned a touch, as if the idea had never occurred to him. He sighed. “That is perfectly fine.”

You sat on the ground in front of the bench. Viktor held the cane upright, turning it when you asked. You made little notes about colors, and where it was dullest from being held. All while being under his sharp gaze. You wondered what he was thinking. If he resented you at all, even though you were just hired to do a job.

“So…” Viktor cleared his throat. “Your fingers - what happened?”

Your whole body went rigid, freezing mid-sketch. You carefully avoided his eyes. Shaking your head, your forced yourself to keep drawing. “Nothing. I was clumsy. Tripped, landed on my hand wrong.”

A moment of silence, then a small hum. “At least it was not your other one.”

You muttered to the paper, “Not yet anyway.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I asked,” you stated louder, “will you tilt that to right a bit?”

Viktor obliged, though the movement was hesitant. You studied the cane intently. Trying not to meet his eyes. He had to know you were lying. That excuse hadn’t even sounded convincing to you. A few more minutes ticked by in silence.

“Tell me,” Viktor started again, “do you have a preference for coffee or tea?”

That one did make you look up. He ran a finger along the rail of the stone bench, watching you from the corner of his eye. The amber of them burning in a patch of sun. You told him your preference, to which he hummed. You searched your mind for something to ask him.

“So,” you started, “what all do you do for Heimerdinger?”

“Many things.” Viktor shrugged, as if it was the most uninteresting question in the world. “I do anything he asks.”

“I’ve heard you and Jayce Talis are the founders of Hextech. All the revolutionary stuff that’s appeared the last few years has been because of you. Is that true?”

Slowly, Viktor nodded. “He took the first steps, then together we built.”

“Then it’s no wonder that Heimerdinger wants your portrait done,” you started, a bit awestruck. “It’s not everyday this sort of thing comes along. - We’ll have to include something of it in your painting. Make sure everyone knows your face, too.”

“Right.” Viktor shifted in his seat. You pretended not to notice the pink blotches staining his neck. “Ah - I’m not well versed in art. Out of curiosity, how long does this sort of thing usually take? Professor Heimerdinger said this could take months, but surely not…”

“It could - it took me most of the four year graduate program to paint Professor Heimerdinger. The third and fourth year especially since I had to make a presentation to go along with it, but it was also hard to meet with him. Yours shouldn’t take nearly as long,” you told him. Your eyes traced the curves on the cane’s handle, your hand trying to follow along on the paper. “If I can focus, a painting this size takes…80 or 90 hours to complete. That isn’t including color matching and sketching, which could take it well over 100 -”

“100 hours?” Viktor repeated, jaw tight. Any openness that was once there now gone. “That is nearly four months of my time. More if one of us is not available!”

You nodded slowly. “I can try and speed up the process, but there’s no promises with this sort of thing. Some of it, I may not even need you there for.”

Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, sighing. “No, no - it’s fine. I will just have to accommodate accordingly.”

Your name echoed across the courtyard then and you both flinched. Glancing over your shoulder, you caught sight of Fallon. How had she even seen you? That ever present smile was on her face. She waved, curls bouncing as she jogged over to you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she laughed. Her eyes turned to Viktor. “Who’s your friend?”

“Not really a friend, more of an acquiantance. This is Viktor, the Dean’s assistant,” you said, “I’ve been commissioned. Sorry - Viktor, this is my good friend Fallon. She’s in her second year of her undergraduate studies.”

He nodded at her. “A pleasure.”

Fallon gasped, gripping your bad hand by the wrist. You hissed softly at the pain, grimacing. She turned your hand palm up, then back over.

“What did you do?” In a second the sweet Fallon was gone, a dark cloud sweeping over her features. She asked in a low voice, “He didn’t do this, did he?”

You tried to pull your wrist away, laughing awkwardly. “No, no, no - nothing like that. This is my own fault. Viktor is…sweet. He’s been very patient with me today.”

Just as quick as it appeared, the storm cloud passed and Fallon was back to her grinning self. Her gold skin practically glowed under the late afternoon sun. The light threading through her dark curls to highlight the red understones. Her eyes danced briefly over your face, then narrowed.

“I know how you can get,” Fallon scolded, releasing your wrist. “Have you eaten today?”

As if on cue, your stomach growled loudly. She put her hands on her hips, foot tapping against the stones. You gave her sheepish smile. “I got in late then was up early. I had some work to do.”

Fallon flicked your forehead. “How many times have I told you -”

“Yes, I know - take care of myself.” You rolled your eyes. “I’ve just…been busy.”

“You are never too busy to care for yourself. - I’ve decided I’m taking you to lunch.” Fallon pulled your arm, hauling you off the ground. Small but mighty, it seemed. “C’mon -”

“But I have to -” you argued, barely keeping a grip on your pencil and pad as you stumbled after her. “Uh - I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then, Viktor!”

You glanced over your shoulder to see him watching you. He almost looked like he was trying not to laugh. That sent a wave of embarrassment through you. You had the strongest urge to stick out your tongue or flick him off. But you didn’t. Just allowing yourself to be pulled out the door, barely being able to waylay her long enough to put your things away and grab your bag.

Fallon found a resturant close to academy for you both. The entire time she gave you a scathing review of your poor habits. But you knew it came from a place of concern. You’d done the same for her a few times. Especially around midterms and finals.

“So, anyway,” Fallon said, the stern tone fading. A mischievous grin took over. “That guy, huh?”

“Viktor?” you asked, taking a bite of your food. “What about him?”

“He was a cutie, wasn’t he?”

“Okay, first off - he’s way too old for you.” You rolled your eyes. Fallon had been unstoppable since she started at the academy. Constantly chasing one guy after the next. “You’re not even twenty yet. He’s like, 26 or 27.”

“As if that would stop me. Besides - I wasn’t thinking about me…” Fallon chuckled. Then licked her finger and rubbed at your cheek. “Hey, did anyone tell you there’s graphite on your face.”

You looked down at where your shiney, grey fingers held your fork. Then scrubbed at your cheek with your shirt sleeve. “Secondly, I haven’t really thought about it.”

She hummed, eyebrows raising briefly. “Liar.”

“I’m not!” You truly hadn’t, whether she believed you or not. “His has some nice lines. His eyes are a nice color -”

“So you’ve just been looking at him like an art project.”

“I guess, yeah.” Your face felt hot, so you swallowed down some ice water. “I can objectively observe someone’s beauty, ya know. You literally have to take an entire class about it.”

“All I’m saying,” Fallon pushed, “is that maybe you should stop looking at him as just a subject.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “You’re trying to set me up, and you don’t even know him.”

She held her palms up. “There’s more to life than work, that’s all I’m saying. And if you just happen to be able to be in the presence of a cute guy who’s stuck with you until the commission is done…”

“I don't want to make our sessions weird. Also, I already told you that I’m not really looking to date anyone right now.”

Fallon pouted. “But why?! There are so many cuties on campus. You’re just going to ignore them all?”

“I -” There were so many things you wanted to tell her. So many things that were safer if you didn’t. You just wished you at least one person to confide in. “I’m just not looking. I’m so busy with commissions and making sure that I can pay rent. It just wouldn’t be fair to try and balance a relationship. I wouldn’t be able to dedicate enough time. It would end badly. So it’s better off that I don’t.”

Fallon’s gold eyes watched you. They reminded you of Viktor’s a bit, but hers were missing the honey tones. Either way, they didn’t seem to miss a thing.

“You’re hiding something,” she said plainly, “what is it?”

You shook your head. “I’m not involving anyone in my life drama.”

“I’m your friend, you can trust me. I want to help if I can.”

“I know exactly the kind of help I need. - Trust me, I’m already dealing with it.”

“You don’t have to carry this burden alone.” Fallon reached over and touched your arm, staring at you with nauseatingly intense sincerity.

Finally, you sighed, leaned forward in the booth - and whispered to her the whole dirty truth.

____________________________________________________

TAG LIST

@starmansolar @motheroffae @vintagehellfire @seaweedbumblebee @21-princess @starriekaede @local-mr-frog @tspmovro @hexhoess

[confusedmothboy]

Pleak,,,, I beg of thee,,,,, soft Jackie and Eddie art,,,, or,,,, if you’re feeling generous,,,, headcanons on Jackie and Eddie’s relationship in an au where Jackie lives,,,, I think they’d be a powerful duo in and out of the wilderness despite their awful parents,,,

theyre such a boyloser girlfailure duo theyre mlm wlw rivals theyre haters theyre so stupid i love them quite a lot

headcanons and writing under the cut

jackie hits eddie a lot. like a lot a lot. usually she just slaps him on the arm or over the back of the head, but the sweet fragile vibe that she has with the rest of the team evaporates whenever eddie acts up (breathes)

eddie hates jeff with a passion because one time jeff tried to mansplain something he learned about world war one (except he stole the information from a movie on world war two and eddie is highly abnormal about history). jackie hates all the girls eddie's dated not because he has bad taste but because even before she knew he was gay, she could tell that he was only dating them for gifts (cigarettes, cassettes, collectibles). jackie is so neutral on travis she had to ask "who" after spending two months out in the wilderness with everybody.

jackie's much closer to their parents than eddie is. ever since he was outed to them in 1993, they refuse to kick him out but also refuse to treat him normally. jackie doesn't know much about what goes on at home because shes usually out at practice, parties, studying, or up in her room with jeff.

eddie kept all the old cassettes that jackie wanted to throw out even though jackie swears up and down that she doesnt listen to "old" artists like madonna anymore (she still sings along when she hears him playing her music)

if jackie were to live (no crash au), eddie's life probably wouldnt go all that different, minus the fact that eddie would be living on the west coast (no fear of planes). one of my friends has an oc that he pairs up with jackie so im sorry jackieshauna truthers but she ends up with him instead. eddie's the uncle with the job you dont understand until youre around 13 or 14 whos always doing something to spoil his nieces/nephews. look at my oc hes lowkey just a chill guy /ref

--- doomcoming (the fun part) drabble ---

“She can’t even fit into her dress.” Jackie muttered under her breath. Eddie looked across the clearing to see Shauna swaying to the acapella music awkwardly. He snorted.

“And whose fault is that?” He mumbled the snide comment, leaning in closer to Jackie so no one could hear them. “Sure as hell isn’t yours that she's trashy. Or that she chose that God-awful dress.” He sipped his berry wine, the taste growing on him.

“Ugh. Don't make me think about it.” Jackie sighed.

“You want me to request a song from the DJs?” Eddie pointed with his pinky over to Crystal, Akilah, Gen, and Melissa, who were all harmonizing Hotel California -by Crystal's instruction- as the others danced. 

“What song?” Jackie asked tiredly. 

“Trust me, its one of your favorites.” Eddie lied. Jackie smiled, allowing it.

Eddie walked over to the choir group, past Javi, who was trying to convince Travis that he should be allowed to drink the berry wine. Travis relented right as Eddie whispered the song name in Crystal’s ear. She nodded and brought the song to an end - there wasn't much in the way of instrumentals and the portion with lyrics had already been sung. Crystal conferred with the rest of the group as Eddie took his place next to Jackie. They started humming the opening to the song, and it took a second for Jackie to realize what Eddie had chosen. She looked up at him. 

“No- no, I’m not doing it.” She couldn't hide the amused grin on her face. 

“See that girl, watch that scene,” 

“You don't have a choice, sorry Jacks, rules are rules.” Eddie shrugged, smiling wide.

“-digging the dancing queen…”

“C’mon, I’ll embarrass myself too.” Eddie pulled her by the hand onto the ‘dance floor’. They had a routine for that song that Eddie knew she still remembered. Jackie stumbled over the first few steps, but eventually started to dance side by side with Eddie, laughing. It was corny, it was dorky, it was evenings after the dust from their arguments would settle, and he and Jackie would watch movies and have dance-offs together. Eddie almost tripped over a branch, and glanced up at Travis, who was smiling at them. 

“Anybody could be that guy…” 

Jackie twirled Eddie around, a move that was clearly intended for a time when Eddie was significantly shorter than her. A few others started joining in. Tai and Van were giggling like crazy as they danced with each other. Mari pulled Akilah from the singer's group for a moment to join her. 

Eddie remembered exactly when they had last danced to that song. He had been about twelve, Jackie fifteen, and it came on the speakers at some family friend’s wedding. He and Jackie had stolen the show, and by that he meant they had danced horribly and everyone had laughed at their performance. That was good. That was the point.

Out of breath, the song winding down, Eddie stumbled out of the dance clearing to sit next to Travis on his log ‘bench’. As the girls started to hum the beginning to Heat Of The Moment, Travis placed a quick peck on Eddie’s cheek. Eddie turned to glance at him, both of their faces red. They weren't exactly trying to hide what was going on anymore, especially not after the celebration that Tai and Van’s kiss had earned. But Eddie still felt giddy at the fact that they didn't have to hide anything. He saw Javi at the other side of the clearing, a cup full of berry wine, looking back and forth at his brother and Eddie, confused, before shrugging and taking a swig. 

“You gonna keep him from a lifetime of alcoholism?” Eddie nudged Travis, who laughed. 

“Ah- who the hell cares anymore?” Travis tilted his head as he watched the rest of the group dance and sing their hearts out. “End of the world, and all.”

--- thank you for reading!!! ---

[inkmonster21]

Not Another Damn Musical

Simon with a Musical Theatre girl

Simon Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader

(My husband has been playing too much COD. Enough for me to notice that big hot guy with the skeleton mask lol enjoy this trash)(Never written for Ghost - Sorry if it sucks)

💀

Opposites attract. A basic rule of the world.

But for Simon to be fully in bliss and in love with someone like you was a shock. You, little thing. Young, sweet, caring, loved to sing and dance in the kitchen. It was no wonder what your favorite genre of entertainment was.

You’re both sitting on the couch at your apartment. Pen trailing the names of your very favorite musicals.

He’d agreed to watch at least one… once a month.

He’s seen several of your favorites by now. Sitting through hours of songs and dances to see you smile at the screen and hum along.

You sighed with a smile, “You’re going to love this one. I just know it.”

Simon had come to dread these movie nights, but he was too whipped to say no to you. He sighed and tilted his head, giving you a sidelong glance, “Can’t be worse than Cabaret."

You grinned widely, raising your eyebrows in agreement, “True, I’m still sorry about that one."

Simon rolled his eyes playfully as you dimmed the lights, but a small grin appeared on his face. He found your enthusiasm cute, even if it was for something he couldn’t stand, "You really love these sing song movies, don’t you? D’you really have to turn off the lights every time, love?”

"Of course," you declared, plopping back down on the couch next to him, "It sets the ambiance! It’s like you’re really in the theater." you gushed, fiddling with the PlayStation remote in your hands.

You smirk at Simon, “I’m about to change your life.”

Simon raised an eyebrow at your statement, a small smirk playing at his lips, "Never fail at that, darling" he spoke.

The steam begins, and Simon immediately sighs, bracing himself for another nights musical torture session.

The music started off as iconic as it was. Then… “how does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore…”

Simon's face fell as the lyrics played, his initial sigh turning into a full sigh of despair. "Oh no, not another one," he groaned. "Why is it always about a bastard orphan?"

“Shush,” you said, playfully poking his side. “If you don’t, you’ll miss the entire plot.”

Simon grumbled in response but reluctantly stayed quiet, resigned to the fact that he’d be sitting through this entire thing.

As the show progressed, Simon couldn't help but notice that many of the phrases you often quoted were indeed from this damn musical.

"Wait a minute," he interjected, a realization dawning on him. "All those random quotes you pepper in... they're from this, aren't they?"

You grinned, clearly pleased that Simon had caught on, "Pretty much all of them," you confirmed, pointing at the screen where a man in a top hat was singing about finding his place. "You didn't realize that until now? What did you think when I said, talk less, smile more?”

Simon gave you a look, recalling the times you’d said that to him in all seriousness. It was all starting to make sense now. "I thought it was some weird advice you picked up," he replied, rubbing his face in frustration. "Can’t believe those were from this shit."

Simon huffed, still playfully annoyed at the whole situation, but your response made a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. "Should’ve known you’d actually give to the goddamn advice from a musical," he grumbled, though his tone lacked any real irritation.

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. "They're full of life lessons, and catchy songs.”

As the show progressed, Simon found himself increasingly drawn in by the historical story, despite his initial reluctance.

You snuggled into him, dramatically as you sing along, “I’m helpless! Down for the count and I’m drowning in ya!”

Simon rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but find your dramatic enthusiasm endearing. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer as you continued to sing along.

At the conclusion of the film, Simon sighed heavily, unable to deny that he actually enjoyed himself. "I have to admit, that wasn't as terrible as I expected it to be, love," he conceded, giving you a small smile.

You grinned widely, practically bursting with excitement that he liked it. “See? Told you I’d change your life," you exclaimed.

Simon wrapped his arms around you, his earlier annoyance replaced by affection. He leaned back against the couch, pulling you onto his lap. “You win this one," he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Months later, a new recruit stood in front of Ghost, his gaze flickering nervously, the kid was refusing to fight. The entire scene had fallen into a tense silence as the group gathered around, waiting for the outcome.

Ghost studied the new recruit, his eyes hard and focused. Leaning in close, he spoke firmly, "If you stand for nothing, soldier," he pointed at the recruit, “what will you fall for?”

Soap's eyes widened in realization as he made the connection. He couldn't help but hold back a growing smirk, knowing exactly where Ghost had gotten those words from. He shot a sly glance at Ghost, his amusement growing by the minute.

As they were walking away Soap couldn’t help but smirk, “don’t worry LT, no one will throw away your shot.”

Ghost gave Soap a sidelong glance, an exasperated expression crossed his face. He knew exactly what Soap was hinting at. “Fucking hell," he muttered, shaking his head. “Not a word, Johnny."

Soap chuckled and clapped a hand on Ghost's back, grinning from ear to ear. "Your secret's safe with me, LT."

“I watch’em for her,” Ghost grumbled under his breath, still embarrassed that Soap had witnessed him quotinn a fucking Hamilton lyric.

Soap smirked and gave Ghost a playful nudge. “Sure ya do. I bet you even know the songs by heart too."

Weeks later, Ghost enters the apartment, quietly shutting the door behind him. Silence fills the air as he pads silently across the apartment, making his way to the bedroom where you’re sleeping.

He stops at the doorway, silently watching you for a moment. Your peaceful form, nestled under the blankets, brings a sense of comfort and familiarity to him.

Simon lets out a tired chuckle as he noticed the movie playing on the TV. Mamma Mia, another one of your favorites. He knew he should have been annoyed, but the familiar sound of the music and your love for these movies had become part of his life now.

He sat on the edge of the couch, watching you for a moment longer before gently placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to rouse you from sleep. “Y/n,” he whispered, gently shaking your shoulder. “Wake up, love.”

You slowly stir, your eyes fluttering open as you come out of your deep slumber. You blink groggily, taking a moment to focus your eyes on the figure sitting next to you.

As your vision clears, you realize it’s Simon, his weary but familiar face hovering over you. A smile forms on your lips as you fully awaken, realizing that he’s finally back home after so long.

“Simon...”

Simon’s weary expression softens as he takes in your sleepy smile. Despite the exhaustion from his mission, he feels a sense of relief wash over him, being able to see you again after months apart.

“Hey, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse from fatigue. “I’m back.”

You sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and taking in his appearance. Even through the tired look in his eyes, you can see the concern and worry dissipating.

You reach out and brush a hand against his cheek, feeling the rough stubble and the exhaustion etched into his expression. "You look tired, Si," you say softly. Simon leans into your touch, his eyes briefly closing as he savors the feeling of your hand on his face.

“I am,” he admits, letting out a weary sigh. “It was a long one.” He opens his eyes again, meeting your gaze with a tired smile, “But I’m just glad to be back home and see you.”

You smiled and just had to say it, “look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now.”

Simon let out a tired chuckle at the all too familiar line. He couldn’t believe you had just quoted that damn musical. He shook his head in mock-exasperation but the fondness in his eyes betrayed him. “You’re a pain in my arse, you know that?” he said, his tone filled with affection.

You smirked, well aware of the effect your cheesy musicals had on him. You reached out and wrap your arms around his neck, “You love it.”

Simon wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Despite his fatigue, he can’t help but smile at your confidence. “You know I do, love,” he murmurs, burying his face into your hair. “Even with your love for these… these…” He struggles to find the right word to describe his dislike for musicals.

You smiled and nuzzled into his neck, “Well you know, you made it back just in time to take me to see Wicked.”

Simon groans playfully, feigning dismay, “Bloody hell, you’re not serious?” He tries to act annoyed, but there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes, “Of all the musicals, you have to pick that one?”

You kiss him, “baby we’re going to be dancing through life and defying gravity. Just you wait.”

Simon can’t help but smile into the kiss, his irritation melting away at your excitement. He rolls his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but deep down, he’s secretly looking forward to it.

[angeliteeyes]

More more with the Herta puppets. So I'm not sure I'd you know, but the trailblazer has actually, for some reason, picked up a Herta doll and tried to run away with it. And Madam herta was st first indignant about it but relented outta curiosity 10% and cause of the help with the simulated universe( if you haven't seen it, you can find it on hoyolab ir reddit). The thing is, Oni S/O is 100%, NOT cool with it. The herta puppets may find them annoying, sure, and its not even sure why, but it also sent a distress signal to them. So Oni S/O went Papa Wolf/Mama bear/Protective sibling, and the Trailblazer may now treat Sparkle with far more caution if her illusions can also do the same messed type of stuff Oni S/O's can. On another note, the Herta puppets are now tsundere like towards the Oni S/O, and you may or may not always see at least one puppet walking alongside them

Hehehe... I'm back on the Herta train y'all

(¬ ͜ ͡¬) feels good to come back to this series. Expect a lot of overdramatic jellyfish Herta, along with perhaps the most adorable puppet of all... popipo...

The Herta x Oni Reader - Puppet Rescue!!!

-> Masterlist with all Herta x Oni works

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Ah, home sweet home. Admittedly, it kind of hurt your pride that Mei forced you to leave her behind in Penacony... but no worries! As long as you have your precious puppets to mess around with, you can wait. Especially now that you're heading over to see your favorite of them all (don't tell the others that, though).

Puppet #39. Despite how many people think of the several, similarly designed puppets as carbon copies, you've found that they're actually quite unique from one another. This one, for example, has a strange fascination with some digital idol she'd somehow managed to discover—what was their name again... Natsume Miki? No, last time you said that, 39 got really mad at you and stormed off, so probably not it. Well, whatever. You'll just ask them again once you find them.

So... where in the station did they head off to? You run around and around, calling out their name, yet to no avail. Strange, since you've always known them to remain in one room every single day, likely since it's the only one with a music player. Confused, you head over to your and Herta's—the real one's—room.

"Hertaaaaa, I'm home! Ya miss me?" You burst into the room, nearly stumbling to the ground from your speed and joy at the sight of your lover. She looks up at you, sprawled upside down from the side of your bed. For some reason, her face is fixed into a frown, or maybe more of a pout, as she begins to speak.

"Oh, so you finally remember your beloved life partner now that you've wasted twenty minutes running around like a stray dog? I offer you the chance of a lifetime to reunite with your long-lost sibling, and this is how you repay me? Hmph. Honestly, I should sign you up for some lessons in manners." Herta crosses her arms over her chest and turns away indignantly.

"Heh, sorry... I meant to come back sooner, it's just that I couldn't find 39 anywhere. Is she under maintenance or something?"

For a few seconds, she doesn't even speak. Not with her lips, at least; instead, her face does all the work as she turns back toward you with an agape mouth and stunned eyes.

"You can't be serious. You return to my space station—my space station—and you don't even come to see me first? Unbelievable! You're so... ugh, whatever. 39's not here, sorry to disappoint you."

You tilt your head to the side. "Not here?"

"The trailblazer seems to have taken a liking to them as well. They've been rather helpful, so I acquiesced and let them take her back aboard." She stares straight at you with an accusatory glare. "What, are you going to run off again? Don't expect me to let you back in if you do."

Jeez, you knew she had a jealous streak in her, but to this degree? If you go out and get 39 back, she might just actually kick you out for a while. Still... you close your eyes for a moment to ponder. Does she even want to come back in the first place? What if she's happier there, cruising across the vast landscapes of the universe? You pause to give your intuition its chance to weigh in. Right now, they're probably thinking...

[Help me.]

A voice rings through your head, and not your own. With a rush, you realize exactly who it belongs to: 39 herself. Huh, guess that answers your questions. With determination, you open your eyes and meet Herta's.

"I have to save her."

"Wha—Hey!" Before Herta can finish her angry shouting, you burst into a sprint towards the space station's exit. C'mon, you can't just let the poor puppet suffer. What kind of oni would you be if you didn't use your powers for the sake of protecting those you love? Speaking of powers...

You pull out your phone.

"Sparkle, you busy?"

If you had to pick the greatest perk of being a Masked Fool, having such a mischievous friend as Sparkle would easily be your answer. Not only do you get an awful lot of laughs, but she's also surprisingly dependable; that is, she's always willing to lend you a hand whenever you describe a task using words such as "fun" or "interesting". Today is no exception. As you go into details about your plan to steal 39 back, a hearty laughter rings out from your device.

"An opportunity to mess with the Nameless, huh? Oh, I can already imagine their shocked faces when they find out... hehe. Count me in."

-

The Astral Express is known to be welcome to just about any and all visitors. Whether it's for short trips or those who wish to stay for the long haul, the train is so much more than just a machine; it's a home to countless of travelers. Puppet #39, though, doesn't quite see it this same way.

"This place sucks. I want to go back home." She glares up at the Trailblazer, who she now sees as her arch nemesis for taking her away from her precious music player. Said nemesis awkwardly places their hand on the back of their head.

"C'mon, it's not that bad here, is it?"

"It is. And you're weird. Bring me back to the station now."

It took everything in your power not to burst out into tearful laughter at the glorious scene your ears are bearing witness to. It's nice to know that 39's blunt word choices weren't just limited to you, at least. Unfortunately, though, making that much noise would definitely blow your cover. As you wait for the right moment to strike, their one-sided bickering session continues on. For what seems like ages, 39 drones on with complaints with her signature monotone voicebox while the other struggles to appease her. Seriously, what's taking her so long to—

"Heyyyyy! Open up already, I have something to show you!" A certain loud-mouthed girl begins to bang on their door, putting an end to their little spat. You hold your breath and curl tighter into your hiding spot. Meanwhile, the Trailblazer peeks out of their door. A confused expression marks their face.

"March? What's going on?" Instead of responding with words, she instead opts to tug at their raised hand, a motion that pulls their whole body out into the open. The lady smirks down at them as they rapidly try to regain their balance before continuing to drag them along like a poor ragdoll. Well, calling them "poor" is a bit generous, seeing how they stole your precious companion... Still, you watch intently as the two scurry off into the opposite direction. You pay even more attention to the girl's grinning mouth.

"Your turn."

Perfect. Looks like the first half of your plan worked out, now just the hard part: actually getting 39 to leave with you. Who knows how much trouble that little runt's going to cause, though. Seriously... if they weren't so entertaining, you'd probably still be at the station. You sigh. It's hard work being such a kind, considerate person. But of course, since you're the greatest oni anyway, this is a piece of cake.

Step. Step. Step. Slowly but surely, you make your way over to the ajar bedroom door and creak it open. In front of you remains the still extremely bitter (but adorable) 39, facing away from you. You hear her huff.

"I refuse to stay here."

"Then come with me, silly."

It takes a little while for your words to process in her cute puppet head, but when they do, she practically jumps out of her metal skin. She turns to face you with an unreadable expression. You start to shift your legs back and forth under her gaze. Maybe you were right earlier to think that she wouldn't come with you. Sure, she's been whining at them nonstop, but it's not like she didn't do the same exact thing with you back home. Maybe—

A sudden clash startles you out of your thoughts. Clutching onto you tightly, you realize, is none other than the very puppet that always claims to despise you. Yet here she is, burying herself into you quietly. Seriously, what a cutie pie. No wonder she was your favorite.

"...You're better than that weirdo, I guess. Let's go."

-

Surprisingly, Herta didn't seem to make good on their prior threat. Y'know, the one to lock you out and all. Still, as you walk in hand in hand with 39, you catch the way she glares at your intertwined fingers, and a chill runs down your spine. There's no way she's not giving you crap for this later, probably for the rest of your life.

And now she's walking away without a word towards your shared room. You apologize to 39 before hurrying to catch up with Herta's quick strides. You can already feel the anger seeping out of her (as well as hear it with how loudly she's stomping) but push on anyway. She silently makes her way into said room and you, despite the tension, trail in from behind.

"Hey, Herta... you still mad at me?" You try to break the tension with a lighter tone, yet regret it once she gifts you a scornful scowl.

"Wrong. Try again."

You think. "Um... I'm sorry?" Her expression grows even more disdainful and frustrated.

"Closer, but that's not what I'm looking for."

As you examine her more extensively, you notice a deeper emotion beyond just petty anger. It's hidden pretty well, yet the sweat droplet rolling down her skin plus her eyes darting from side to side tell you the truth about what she's feeling. With an exhale, you finally find the right words to soothe her worries.

"I missed you, Herta."

She doesn't express it verbally, but a weight visibly lifts off her body once you utter those words. You smile. For someone so renowned for her intelligence, she sure can be childish sometimes. But that's not an issue; after all, you're hardly any better.

"Well obviously you would miss me! Anyone whose eyes have been blessed with my beauty would feel the same way. It's only natural." Her signature grandiose tone kicks back into gear, much to your delight. She's a lot cuter this way.

"Right, right. Can we go to bed now? I'm sleepy." With a bright grin, she agrees and you two make yourselves comfy within the pink sheets of your bed. You decide that you won't tease her about her extra-tight grip on your form... at least, not until tomorrow morning.

-

A knocking sound at your bedroom door reverberates and stirs you out of your sleep. Curious and confused, you make your way over to the door, opening it to find...

"39?" You stare at her, perplexed. What could she possibly want this early in the morning? From the uncharacteristic twiddling of her fingers, she seems to be having trouble communicating her thoughts. Funny, considering how she normally treats you.

"You. Come with me." Refusing to elaborate, she drags you across the station's halls into her favorite room. Placed within it are her music player, a chair, and a new, full-length mirror. It's only when you two reach her seat that she lets go of your wrist and plops herself down. Then, she points to a set of colorful hair ties.

"Make me have pigtails." Despite her demanding words, her robotic cheeks flush with a color you didn't know they were capable of being. Vaguely, you start to recall her beloved idol and her hairstyle. With a gasp, you raise your voice.

"Don't tell me, are you trying to have the same hairstyle as that Natsume Miki girl?!"

"That's not her name!"

Unbeknownst to you, a collection of other puppets linger at the door. They totally aren't listening in on you or anything! They're just... curious, that's all. Yeah. Who would be jealous of 39 for getting to have you play with their hair? Certainly not them! That's what they'll say to themselves and anyone who asks, at least, as they stick to your side like glue the following day.

You try not to act too smug the first time one of them not-so-subtly complains about a nonexistent tangle. Who says you can't have more than one favorite?

[dreamsy990]

drew some of my fav ody designs! wasnt originally meant to be also replicating the styles but thats sort of just how my brain works. except i didnt copy the lineart styles of anyone here so its DEFINITELY a bit uncanny for a couple of these (LOOKING AT YOU QINNY IM SO SORRY) but whatever

the designs featured here (from left to right) belong to: me, @gigizetz, @neal-illustrator, @irunaki, @bigidiotenergytm, @qinnyanimation, and @foopsie-daisy

[cloudpools]

"Yours is smaller because you pick a cue based on your height. And you're short." Not that that was a bad thing. It was cute really. But Carter was a man of facts, and he wasn't afraid to say them... Even if they could be taken harshly...

Hazel eyes watched as Madison whiffed twice. Had he really given her too short a pole? Had she even played before? Probably not, from the way she was whining. "Here. Let me show ya." Carter made his way around the table, carefully positioning her hands, using his own as a guide. He wasn't trying to be flirty about it, but he was close (how the hell else was he supposed to show her?). "Look. You use your front hand to keep it steady, and then the back hand for power. Just gotta be sure you hit it straight." To drive his point home he pulled back, perfectly hitting the cue ball into a solid one and sinking it for her. "And when you get one, you get to go again."

Carter let Madison go to try on her own this time. "What do I need a car for? I've got two legs and this town has surprisingly good public transportation." He shrugged. "And yea. I guess people get put off by my style... And my resting bitch face." He smiled at that.

That smile drops when she starts feeling bad though, and he quickly ran a hand through his stiff hair. "Listen, you don't have to be sorry about nothin'. I shouldn't have even brought it up, but it's the first thing I thought of so- I said it. But let's drop it. It's definitely a mood killer." Did it make him strong for handling the situation as he did? He wished he'd been stronger back then to stop his friend from dying at all... He wished...

Drop it, he thinks, following his own advice.

Physically shaking off the thought, he laughs. "A bunny?" His mind can't help but float the idea of Madison in one of those cute bunny suits. The ears, a tail. He tries to let it go, but damnit was it stuck for longer than it should have been. What was up with him tonight? Why didn't he have control over what he was thinking about? For fuck's sake... Maybe he needed to drink more?

He did just that.

"Probably a lizard, like you said before. They look weird and people are scared of 'em, but they're actually really nice." Smiling, he poked one of the tips of his spiked hair. "And horny." Laughing, he made his way back around the table. "Alright. Seems like we're getting to the 'what's your favorite color?' part of this game. And that's fucking boring. So let's talk concert. What kinda music are you into? You're not gunna drag me to some country show are ya? I've been to plenty of those when I was younger. That and rodeos." Snorting, he sighed. "But I'd do it, if that's all you liked."

Madison studied the way Carter held the stick & flung it forward toward the white ball which caused the pack to break apart. It seemed easy. Just a bit of aiming. When he stood up & it was her turn she looked around the playing field, “so…. I’m solids?” She asked & picked up her stick, “hey…. Why is my little compared to yours?”

It didn’t stop her from lifting it to the table top & bringing her fingers up to guide the wood the way he had. But unlike him, when she flung the stick forward she completely missed the ball.

Her eyes blinked confused. “Wait….” Her stance fixed, bending at the hips, tightening her core, arms extending, hands ready to try again. And again, she managed to completely miss the bad. “Whaaat???! How did you do that?????”

Before she could continue to whine her brow raised, “wait… you don’t have a car?? How do you get places?” She gave him a cute head tilt of curiosity.

“You intimidate people?” She giggled, “that’s probably the nicest thing anyone has said to me. Or offered to do. Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.” Her eyes rolled, that pretty smile widening making the apples of her cheeks rounder. His sad story wiped her face clean of any happy crinkles, “oh my gosh.”

Bee voice softened, “I’m so sorry that happened to you Carter.” Was that the first time she said his name? Carter. CARter. CarTER. CARTer. Carter.

What a nice name. Pretty name. “That’s horrible. I’m sorry I asked…. Despite how awful that is. I’m very happy & proud you were able to find something positive to take from that experience.”

Her head shook. “You’re very strong, far & few to be able to experience that & turn around & be better.”

Madison tapped her fingers on the wood, “maybe a bunny. They are so cute. Their nose wiggles, they kick their little feet when they are upset. They are literally me. What about you?”

[serenedash]

Nomura was insane for that statement he made. I know I should be focused on the foreteller part of it but I'm stuck on the inspiration for so much coming from the story of an American blues musician meeting with the devil to get guitar skills.

Like on one hand. Darkness/mom, mom/foretellers, marluxia/sora, mom/xehanort and xehanort/terra all being the devil and guitar player throughout the series imo. But also all I can think about is the devil went down to gerogia because that is so xehanort and sora to me in kh3 like is that literally not their vibe and it's also such a hysterical vision in my mind. I'm sorry like:

"Well, that ol' Devil bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat

And he laid that golden fiddle down on the ground at Johnny's feet

Johnny said, "Devil, come on back if you ever wanna try again"

Also "this means demyx is mom" I will kms if that's the truth. I think its funnier if demyx also somehow "made a deal with the devil" but he's the only literal interpretation of this story in kh and that's why he has a sitar it would incredibly hilarious

[Edit] tumblr mobile is being a dick not letting me add a link here's what Nomura said irt BBS 15th anniversary on twt:

[thetireonstageright]

currently thinking about the way death’s at my door is staged: TW for brief implied su*c*de attempt/s*lf-h*rm

Pony starts the song while sitting at the top of the church with the knife he just used to cut his hair still in his hands. Pony’s tired and he’s been holed up in that church with nothing but his swirling thoughts to keep him company while Johnny is out getting them more supplies. He starts singing about how death follows him, how he’s a danger to those around him, looking back at himself in the reflection of the switchblade.

Unbeknownst to him, Johnny’s returned with water and has been silently listening. And at that line, finally makes his presence known.

“That’s crazy talk Ponyboy” he says. And Ponyboy comes down to meet him on the next floor down. Pony argues about how he’s cursed and Johnny should “move on” and is “better off without [him]”.

Johnny has heard this before. He’s heard himself say those things before and hearing them coming from Ponyboy is scary. Especially when he sees the way the knife in Pony’s hand trembles, the way his eyes refuse to look at Johnny’s, solely focused on the white knuckle grip he has on the blade.

Johnny has mentioned wanting to disappear to his best friend before and was always met with warmth and love from Ponyboy, assurance that he still wants Johnny around. So that’s what he provides for Ponyboy in this moment. He comes closer, making Ponyboy hear him when he says “the reason i’m living is you,” which finally gets Ponyboy’s attention away from the knife.

And in the way someone would approach a dog with something between its teeth that it shouldn’t have, he holds out his hand. He lets Pony make the choice to give the knife back to him. It’s a reach that conveys Johnny’s worry for what Pony might have done with that blade if he hadn’t come earlier. It’s his relief when Pony gives it back and they close their hands around it in their promise to never leave the other alone.

And they smile because they know that while the world seems scary and dark, they’ll always be there for each other. Urging each other to go on even when things look bleak. And it’s with that comfort that they finally let themselves go to sleep for the night.

[numbuh424]

I just love it when death note adaptations get meta. When they point out that this story has already been told before. Deep down, L and Light know they're bound to their roles, that they've done this all before, and that this story can only and will only ever go one way for them.

[thatnununguy]

Oh hey another reboot... It will be good right??? Right???? RIGHT???

[moss-points-north]

I love the Vengeance saga sm….

so here are my thoughts

NOT SORRY FOR LOVING YOU:

This was SO pretty. Wangui has such a beautiful voice and she added so much depth to the character. But i still HATE Calypso. They could never make me like you Calypso. I liked How Jorge really made her seem like she just never learned how it was wrong to expect love in return regardless of circumstance. Especially the part “Was cast away when I was young

Alone for a hundred years

I had no friends but the sky and sun

So when you washed ashore

I thought for sure that you were my dream come true”

It really did a good job at showing she never learned because she never got a chance to learn these things.

DANGEROUS:

HECK YES HERMES!!! He was so so iconic and I loved how we was just partying while Ody was fighting for his life. My favorite part was defined the Wing Bag. Especially the winions. The melodies just seemed so much darker and serious then the playful tone of Keep Your Friends Close. I also loved the Athena reference at the end. I honestly hope Odysseus doesn’t learn it was her, it would make it so much more tragic.

CHARYBDIS:

This was the song I was looking forward to the most and I was not let down! The musical storytelling was so so good! Everything about it that I imagined is practically exactly what was on the animatic. Also extra points to part of it being done by @anniflamma (i’m not even gonna try to lie, Anni is my favorite Epic Animator) I LOVED the final verse. It was so pretty and Jorge portrayed the Longing of Odysseus SO WELL. I also adored the expectation diversion leading into…

GET IN THE WATER:

First off the Intrumentals starting the song were BEAUTIFUL!!! The piano was so striking and i loved it! Steven Rodriguez is genuinely PERFECT for Poseidon. I’m not gonna lie Poseidon is my favorite Greek God(Blame PJO) and Ruthlessness is actually the song that got me into EPIC. So it was amazing to hear him again. My Blood ran cold during the “Ruthlessness… Is Mercy Upon… Ourselves” part and I loved the overlapping vocals of the “Die”. And because it’s a bossfight it just has to end with making me cry. The “spirits” of Odysseus’s comrades was so pretty and I think it was my favorite(besides love in paradise ofc) of the “Heartbreaking remembering comrades” moments.

600 STRIKE!!!

1st of holy shit the Wind bag is such a cool Bossfight instrumental. It was so freaking cool(I love all the Wind parts in EPIC). I was a little disappointed by the Visuals, no disrespect to the artist at all! But i just thought the 3d was a little jarring. I truthfully think it would have been a little better if it was 2d. Enough of visual art talk though MUSICAL art talk time! I LOVED the chanting throughout the first-half. It was such a great(I think) wrap up to the Crews story and it also sounded awesome.

600 STRIKE: PART 2(that part)

Steven Rodriguez’s voice is really hot. I just had to get that out of the way. But in all seriousness this is my favorite moment of the Saga. I don’t think 600 strike was my favorite song, that title goes to Get in the Water, but 600 strike is a close 2nd solely based on the epicness of this moment. The way my heart just stopped when Odysseus said “Exactly” was just something I’ll never get over. Also I’m weird and i loved hearing Poseidon in pain.(I like my fav. characters to suffer). Also the overlapping vocals(can i even call poseidon’s part vocals it’s just him screaming in pain) was PHENOMENAL! I especially loved the 2nd “OOoohhhh” I saw someone say that Poseidon likely regenerated around the trident before it was pulled out and that’s engraved in my brain now.

And hot Take.

I think that Poseidon was actually ASKING Odysseus how he sleeps at night. During Monster Ody says “Is he scared that he’s doing something wrong” and I actually think Ody was right. Poseidon’s “I can’t” during Get In The Water seems genuine. I don’t know if it was because He literally couldn’t forgive Ody because of what Ody did, or if He’s is actually just trying to “keep us in check so we respect him, and now no one dares piss him off”. This may just be me over-analyzing/trying to sympathize my fav character but does Poseidon actually wonder if he’s doing something wrong.

And Finally, NEXT TO MY WIFE was actually so FRAKING cold. If someone said that to me i’d be devastated.

Ultimately the Vengeance saga was probably my 2nd favorite saga(after wisdom i just adore god games) Jorge did an AMAZING job with it and I’m so excited to see how much more a monster rawr rawr rawr Ody becomes.

I hope you enjoy my thoughts (:

[zombiequeen1]

gonna start systematically posting all my old art that i have deemed good enough to be put online, starting with this lil jeffmads piece that i drew at a gay bar, lmao

[dexbian]

they’re forcing me to watch legally blonde somebody save me

[mike-wachowski]

Tag game: post 6 albums of 6 of your favourite artists in order.

Ty for the tag @softantlers !! I don’t really have 6 favorite artists so I’ve just selected the 6 no skip albums I’ve been listening to on repeat

the million masks of god by manchester orchestra

trail of flowers by sierra ferrell

what a relief by katie gavin

only god was above us by vampire weekend

oh! the ocean by the wombats

OK computer by radiohead

tagging 6 more people ! @iloveuspiderman @lumons @shieldborn @shaunauchiha @thatweirdacebookworm @tethysresort