#that are fun to think about but not meant to be thought of for too long/too seriously

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

More Doki Doki Battle Academy OP AU

even MOOROEEE of themmmmmahhhhhhh babyeyyy i even added some dialogues fir some extra flavourrrrr (kuma and bonney's gif there would be a sprite he would have in his dialogue scenes. i dont think it would be a gif like this, more like everytime you look back at him, bonney would be in a different spot)

original DDBA designs post (has more lore there, go look at it plese :3

imagining the vinsmoke/strawhat beef going like this video

design stuffs and more lore:

preface: sorry this is so much writing and im not going to grammar check it cuz aint no body got time for that.

The world of this au is like pokemon with different gyms you can fight through and beat, there's a big league of pro fighters, and there are schools for teaching you to be a better fighter.

One of the schools is called the Germa 66 Private Battle Academy, it goes from grades 1-12 and its where the Vinsmoke siblings all went too (at least until sanji broke off from the family at some point) and its run by Judge Vinsmoke, their father.

i am thinking that the Vinsmoke kids would still be genetically modified and Kuma would be a cyborg in this too.

design stuffs:

Ichiji: i tried to make him as punk as he would feasably get away with living under his father's rule. Big "combat" boots, fingerless gloves, black undershirt. He likes his style and would probably go all out if he didnt have to conform to his school uniform, thus i put a little heart on his boots.

Niji: i also made him like his style. The rings on his fingers, his nikes shoes, his big headphones. Like a gamer who thinks this is what fashion is. I think he would love listening to music too so i put his heart on his headphones.

Yonji: big stakly guy. Hes a lot more hands-on than his brothers so i put lots of emphasis on that area. i put his heart on his hand wraps because i think he would really love fighting. I think that Yonji is most like his father in that enjoyment, but i think Judge wouldnt like how casual Yonji's style is.

Reiju: y2k queen. I love this design on her so much im so bummed that she would have already graduated from the academy and i cant put her in a Hit Me Baby One More Time-esque uniform outfit, shed fucking KILL THAT SHITTT. Anyway though, reiju's heart is subtle yet in plain view, the locket around her neck. i dont think she would let anyone look at the contents but i do think that absolutly it would be her mother on one side and her brothers on the other. She wouldnt like people looking at it because that would mean someone could see that her dad isnt in there and she would get it a lot of trouble with her father about it.

Power ranger fits: i made them full on power rangers. its what they deserve. Since reiju has a butterfly motif in canon, i thought it would be fun to also give her brothers a bug motif of their own. ichiji is a wasp, niji is a dragonfly, yonji is a stag beetle. If sanji stuck around, hed probably be a lady bug lol. Also the masks they wear, the eye window part, it’s like tear tracks coming out but in a way that doesnt look like thats what they are. But it’s meant to show how judge forcing his children to be these people is causing them pain.

thank you @zethsdumpster for being my Vinsmoke specialist and helping me come up with a lot of their design stuff!

Doflamingo: i tried to make him a Nasty Nasty man. Like if a used car salesman made it big. Like if Macklemore was MackleMORE. i love the idea that he likes to tan himself, but he doesnt take any of his clothes off to do so, so he just has the absolute craziest tan lines ever. i put his hearts on the gold chain around his neck, he loves his wealth but not much else. i love the idea of him having two very expensive watches on each wrist. there may be more watches up his sleeve too. i also gave him fluffy dice around his neck, like he's one of the cars that he's selling.

Rosinante: i couldnt get away much longer without putting the heart man into the heart 'game'. i couldve went off more with the hearts of his design but i didnt want him to become nearly as flashy as his brother. i wanted him to be understated and fade into the background when doflamingo is around. he is dead in this au btw sorry :/ this is his design when he passed, but doffy's design is present day him. anyway, Rosi's hearts are everywhere, its in the outline of his big huggable fluffy coat, its on his hat thats pulling him down, it would be on his shirt too if it wasnt covered by his coat in this image.

Bonney: SHEEES SO CUUTEEEE AAAAAAAA i love her. I based her design off of Avril Lavigne with her iconic necktie/tanktop/baggy pants looks. i tried to make her outfit look like she could feasibly fit in it when she ages herself up, especially her big ol shoes. the heart in her design is in her neck tie. The stereotypical visage of a dad is a man in a tie who goes to work, and she loves her dad, so her heart is in her dad tie.

Kuma: I didn't change much of him from his design in canon, but since bonney would be more in his life in this version, i wanted to give him more visual indicators of her being there. like the height chart on his leg, or the fuzzy hat she crocheted for him (she also made her own hat for herself). Also, the pattern on his shirt is one that looks like a paw, but if you took off that outer layer, if the pattern continued, the design would be a sun, and i just think that was really clever ehe ehe.

Hancock: Basically i tried to make her the baddest bitch in the universe. My program crashed like 3 times making her which is so funny. Procreate couldnt handle her. I based her design off of Medusa. at first i had her snake be made out of marble, but it eventually wound up at Obsidian. She has no visible hearts on her design and thats because it would be the scar on her back, which she tries to hide. i like the idea that this very visibly revealing outfit would be perfectly tailored and reinforced to never move a single inch to let anyone see what theyre not supposed to. I dont know how i would justify her being able to turn people into stone in this AU, so im just not going to make a decision on whether or not she can do that.

ive been working on these designs off and on ever since i made the first post on this au and im real happy i can finally put more out.

if you got to the end of this, thank you so much for reading~ i hope you enjoyed :)

[sc0tters]

Loved You Forever | Luke Hughes

summary: four times you and luke knew you both wanted more, the one time a move was made, and the one time you both actually remembered it.

request: yes/no

warnings: underaged drinking (if you're american), minimal swearing.

word count: 6.16k

authors note: happy February loves! I realised that this might have been a better valentines day piece but too late? I am actually in love with this piece though and it was seriosuly so much fun to do another 5+1 thing and I'm pretty sure that this is my first proper attempt at it. I am nothing but a slut for best friends to lovers with Luke! After the loss tonight I think we all deserved something sweet so I also think this might be one of my first attempts at tooth rooting of sweet?

Luke had been in your life for as long as you could have remembered. 

The two of you met during a day at the park, you had been desperate to be on the seesaw but as your siblings got caught up with Jack and Quinn it left you alone, sat on the one side all by yourself “can I join?” Luke asked pointing at the seat that was in the air. 

A grin spread across your face “you wanna sit with me?” You asked almost not believing him “yeah you seem sad.” It seemed that it was all it took for your friendship to be formed. 

Hours were spend on that seesaw over the autumn months as you got to know him. You were no longer the sad lonely girl to him, now you were the fun and chatty one who had a dog. 

𝟏

You had been a bundle of nerves the entire week. 

In the week leading up to prom your dress was in need of alterations and your date had decided that going with the captain of the cheer team was far better suited to his taste than you. Your curling iron had also decided the morning of prom that it was going to stop working.

So while you felt like the world was against you, Luke decided to step him. He had gotten Ellen to drop off a brand new one courtesy of him of course, with a note saying that he couldn’t want to see you that night. 

The moment that he learnt about you no longer having a date he changed his own plans, well first he actually did a happy dance because now you were single which he appreciated. But then he told the hockey boys that he was breaking from the pact of going as a group. At first they all gave him stick, but when they learnt it was for you they understood. 

Because even if you were totally off limits and so clearly Luke’s girl, they all had eyes as a hormonal teen boy. And you were a total package. 

So that was how Luke ended up on what was a date but didn’t feel like it because he felt like your second choice, even if he had never been the one to ask you in the first place. Gosh he had seen all of the cringey proposals online but he knew you would have loved one of those. Something to laugh about afterwards that could be cherished as a memory forever.

Jim placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder pulling him out of this thoughts “you okay bud?” He asked cocking his head as he furrowed his eyebrows “I’m good.” Luke nodded “just worried about the time.” It was a lie but it was enough to take the attention off of him and his thoughts.

Your mom looked at her watch “y/n are you coming down anytime soon!” She called up the stairs fearing that you’d end up late and miss the limo that your friends had arranged after pictures. 

You turned down your music as you rolled your eyes. In your opinion you weren’t late, just pulling everything out of your drawers because you couldn’t find the perfect earrings to go with your dress “yeah, yeah I’ll be down there!” You yelled back focusing on what you were doing. 

Luke stood between his parents and yours “sorry about her.” Your mom apologised as she softly shook her head, knowing that this was how you were “it’s okay I mean she’s.” Luke was lucky he was cut off because it meant that he didn’t have to come up with an end to his statement. 

“I’m ready!” Your words traveled down to the group causing all of their heads to turn to your bedroom door. You were right by the top of the staircase so there wasn’t much of a walk for you before your dress was revealed in all its glory “wow.” Luke thought he had said it softly enough for nobody to hear. But the smile on Jim’s face said it all, he knew his son was in love as he watched you twirl all excited for him to finally see the dress.

The red dress hugged every part of your body that you wanted it to. And now with the alterations your slit showed the right amount of leg, it was enough to look hot but not enough to the point where the dress wouldn’t have been appropriate for a high school prom.

Luke felt his throat grow dry seeing you at the top of the stairs, with a smile painted on your face. You looked gorgeous, in every sense of the word as you radiated this glow that encapsulated your body. 

His hands grew sweaty, gripping at your corsages packaging. Watching you walk down the stairs, the sounds of your mom in awe with your dad taking pictures turned to background noise. Luke couldn’t understand how you were panicking about your hairstyle to him at lunch all week, because it seemed like it was made for you. 

You stopped on the final step holding your hand out to Luke, enjoying the moment of him in his navy blue suit. It was easy to see that he had just had his hair cut, but you weren’t going to make a comment about it as you appreciated the effort. 

Sure you wouldn’t have cared if Luke showed up in jeans and his crocs, but he knew how important the night was to you so he made it important to him. His hand was soft against yours as he helped you down the final step “you look-” he cut himself off, opting to take the chance to bask in your beauty once more. 

It made you rub your lips together nodding in agreement “you too.” The sight made Ellen place her hand on her heart. Her youngest son here stood tall and all cleaned up, in front of the girl that his parents wished he’d date. 

Luke let out a soft gasp remembering that he was still holding your corsage “this is yours.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, hoping you’d like it “it’s so pretty Lukey.” You held the plastic container in your hands pulling out the pink arrangement. 

You handed it back to him “put it on f’me will ya?” You asked watching him nod “sure.” He obliged your request seeing how pretty it looked with your manicured nails. 

Your eyes shone looking at it “it’s perfect.” You confessed leaning up to kiss his cheeks “thanks, Lukey.” You gave his arms a squeeze before you settled back in front of him. 

He prayed his cheeks didn’t betray him as they felt warm “anytime.” Luke honestly would have done anything to bring that smile out and for you to kiss his cheeks again. Even as he hoped he’d be lucky to kiss you properly one day, he prayed that this wasn’t the last time he’d get to feel one of your kisses. 

𝟐

Your high school graduation was not what you expected it to be. Sure you expected to be a little emotional leaving the place that had helped shape you into the person you were set to become. It was the place where Luke cemented his life long place as your best friend. 

You held your diploma in your hand as you searched through the crowd for him “y/n!” Luke cheered causing you to whip around. 

His smile matched yours as you let out a squeal before you ran into his arms. You almost knocked him over as you laughed “someone’s excited ‘eh?” He let out a soft laugh settling you back on your feet. 

He had spent a portion of his afternoon wishing he told you how pretty you looked “I mean how can I not be we have like properly graduated.” If you looked back at the memory now you would have laughed, you felt so prepared for the big world when in actuality you were still so young with so much more growing to do. 

Luke smiled “I mean we always knew you were going to.” Brains had always been your thing, much more than Lukes at least.

You looked at the athletics band around his shoulders “and you got this.” You toyed with the ends of it in your hands “I think we both should be proud today.” You had succeeded in your own fields, reminding each other why you did so well as friends because you were so different.

Luke could see that something else was on your mind “what is it?” He asked, seeing that there was a glimmer of excitement like you were trying to hold back a bomb of importance. You felt like a child who had been trying their best to hold off on telling the secret they promised their parents that they would keep to themselves. 

You pulled the grad cap off of your head as you took in a deep breath “remember how I told you that I wasn’t sure where I was going because of those scholarship applications?” You were the more academically inclined out of the two of you, to the extent that you did have a good chance to get some scholarships. 

This was why you hadn’t decided where exactly you were going, so Luke hadn’t been told of any of the places that had accepted you. This was the first and last time that you were ever going to be holding a secret from him, the last few weeks felt like your very own definition of torture “so you remember how we applied to some of the same schools?” You asked, reminding him that three schools appeared on both of your lists. 

He nodded, raising his eyebrows and urging you to continue, “well one of those schools was UMich, and I got in.” Luke let out a gasp, knowing exactly where this conversation was about to go “yes?” He urged you to carry on so he didn’t celebrate prematurely. 

You rubbed your lips together “well how do you feel about getting an apartment roomie?” It had been a conversation since you were both eight years old, if you went to uni together, then you were going to be roommates to some degree. 

Luke finally allowed himself to cheer as he pulled you into a hug. He spun you around as he let himself celebrate the news “I can’t believe that we are staying together.” He was honestly in shock as he finally placed you back on the ground. 

In the distance stood your mom and Ellen, who watched the interaction unfold in front of them “I wonder if this is what they need to take a step forward.” Everyone but the two of you knew about the undeniable feelings between you both. They knew it was asking for a lot, though, because you two had been around each other for so long that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be and maybe that was okay. 

Ellen smiled as she watched Luke grab your hand before he pulled you into a group of people “I think that maybe they are only going to be friends.” She let out a sigh as the words left her lips. Boy did she hope that the two of you proved her wrong.

𝟑

Luke had yet to come down from the high that was being drafted to the same team as Jack. He was absolutely ecstatic and having you there too was the perfect moment for him. His family had all come along and they mixed with his friends, every one of his supporters were in that room. 

He almost got emotional when he thought about it because none of you had to come, not to the bar afterwards and not to the draft itself either. But when his name was called by the New Jersey Devils Luke just remembered pulling you into this hug as Jack hit his back in excitement.

You were his absolute best friend and world so it was never a surprise that Luke hugged you first but still fans had been going on about how Luke basically blanked his future teammate at first. People who followed Luke’s days at Michigan knew who you were, if someone listened to Luke talk for long enough you were brought up in a conversation. And it wasn’t that it was weird for him but it was because you did everything with him so away from the ice, you were attached to every memory.

But for the people who hadn’t paid attention, you were the mystery girlfriend in their eyes. So you were also now the new target of everyone’s Instagram searches. Their comments to you saying they wished they were Luke’s girlfriend made you laugh, because you felt the same way. His name had been circled with hearts in the corners of your notebook pages. They were left in the math and English books because you knew that was where Luke would never have looked.

Luke would never have admitted it aloud but he knew whenever you weren’t in a room. The sound of your laugh burning at his ears, how you seemed to radiate this sense of light and warmth that could be felt through the room. He had been caught up in a conversation with his parents friends when he had lost that feeling. 

It was clear to them that Luke had his mind somewhere else, or well they knew it was with someone else so they let him go. You were nowhere to be seen as his eyes scanned the crowded bar “she’s out front I think Lukey!” Jack slurred his words clearly drunk but still knowing all too predictable his younger brother was. 

Luke felt his cheeks grow warm as his eyes went wide “relax dude, just go to her.” Jack laughed as he rolled his eyes, not caring about it before he went off again. 

He tried to make it subtle to anyone who watched but Luke headed straight for the door where he of course found you. You were still in his devils cap as he put it on you when he finished his media interviews. An awful attempt at a joke was made when he said that you could be a player now too.

It looked so good on you as he smiled “there you are.” It was like a weight off of his shoulders when he found you. 

You were in your own little world before you looked at him “shouldn’t you be inside?” You asked as you cocked your head “this is a party for you after all.” Luke rolled his eyes, turning the cap around so that he could see your face not covered by the lid of the cap. 

He leaned against the wall next to you “I wanted to be with you though.” You blushed at the words, your hand reached for his “I just wanted a bit of air is all.” You explained putting his mind at ease as he had worried that you were overwhelmed. 

You licked your lips “I’m proud of you tonight.” The confession made his ears ring as his head felt fuzzy “all I did was get drafted.” Luke always was one to downplay his achievements, but you never let him succeed.

A laugh escaped from you lips “Lukey you were drafted fourth and to your brothers team.” You reminded him in a duh tone “you’re actually gonna be an NHL player now.” It had been his dream for as long as he could speak, from the moment you turned seven it even had a space on your vision board cementing itself in the right hand corner. That’s how much you knew he was getting into the big leagues.

Luke looked up at the night sky before he let out a sigh “god everything is going to change isn’t it?” He chewed at the inside of his cheek feeling your eyes piercing into his soul.

The words echoed in your ears as you pushed off of the wall before you stood in front of him. Things didn’t need to change, in fact you didn’t want them to. 

You smiled as you held your pinky out to him “what is this?” He asked mimicking your movements “a promise that I will always be with you.” Your voice was sweet as you nodded. 

Luke knew he was wrong but part of him thought about how beautiful you looked in the light, how kissable your lips looked too “forever and ever?” Luke cocked his head letting a grin spread across his lips. 

Your heart throbbed at the thought, you wanted Luke around for all that time and more “forever and ever.” You agreed locking your pinky into his before you both kissed your thumbs. 

The gesture seemed small but it was something that you both could agree on. For you and Luke, it meant that the promise was written in the stars as if you had written it on sand. With every passing wave that came in with the tide, the message still stood. 

𝟒

Luke hated the fact that he was leaving soon. He knew that his time with you at university was always going to have an expiration date, but he never thought it was going to come so soon. 

You two spent all of your life together, often moving within six months of the other. So now if he really was leaving you then it felt like this was the last time. 

Your paths had always been one of the same, with both of you never straying far away from the other. Luke had gotten so used to you being around that the only person who he was worried about leaving was you. 

Life had always been the y/n and Luke party that he didn’t know how you were going to react if he left you “what’s going on in that mind of yours?” You asked finding him sat by himself. 

He smiled seeing you stumble in his direction “I am just thinking.” He confessed watching you sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

A giggle escaped from your lips “ain’t that dangerous.” Those words made him scoff as his eyebrows furrowed. 

You seemed so care free in that moment, it made him envy you. How did it all seem so easy for you as he felt like his head was barely above water, drowning with worry “I am kidding.” You rubbed his cheek against your thumb “what are you thinking about?” You asked urging him to let you into his thoughts. 

Your hand squeezed his cheek reminding him that you were there for him “what if I don’t make the right call going.” Luke felt that a weight was lifted off of his shoulders letting that confession slip “I think that the universe is going to put you in the best position for you long term.” You truly believed that everything happened for a reason, so if the agent did come and ask Luke to join the devils like you knew they would, then it was the right thing for him.

It seemed that you always knew what to say to him “and what do you think I should do-” Luke hugged you not taking a chance to let him finish “you are going.” You stopped him from trying to hug you. 

He raised his eyebrows “I am?” Your tone made him think you were going to be forcing him onto that plane if you had to. 

Luke ran his fingers through your hair “y’know I’m happy that you’re going.” Your confession made him furrow his eyebrows “you are?” He cocked his head as he had of course told you all about the possibility of being signed the moment he learnt the agents were coming to Florida. 

You nodded sending him a smile “I mean this had been your dream like forever and Jack will be happy to have you there.” Your explanation calmed his heart, practically brushing the worries from his mind “and how do you feel about it?” The two of you were feeling a little more open tonight as you had a bit too much vodka sprite in your system to think clearly. 

A sigh escaped your lips “honestly I’m gonna miss you.” It was the first time you actually admitted that “but it makes me so happy that you get to live out your dream.” Your hand ran along his shoulder. 

A smile formed on his face “I love you.” He blurted out unaware of the ramifications it could have had “I love you too.” You mumbled kissing his cheek. 

Luke frowned knowing that you didn’t acknowledge what he meant, he was in love with you. 

𝟓

Christmas with the Hughes family was something that you had always loved. It seemed to be a family tradition for you too as you always seemed to crack a nod to the event. 

Selfishly you loved that it was in Michigan, the short drive from campus meant that it was where you spent the first half of your Christmas break. Your parents came down to them and then brought you back home afterwards and it was the perfect little routine. 

This Christmas felt particularly refreshing as you had missed Luke, it was the first Christmas since he made the move to New Jersey and it meant that you two were forced to pack everything into the days he had off. Years of perfectly crafted Christmas traditions forced into three days that you usually put into two weeks. 

The days felt jam packed not that you or Luke cared, the only time you weren’t with each other was when you went to the bathroom. Nights he had home were spent talking to you until the sun played peek a boo in the curtains. 

Christmas night was by far your favourite highlight though, matching sweaters with Luke and eating so much that you were in a food coma. But this year something felt different, you couldn’t put your finger on it and part of you didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

You were never one to push out of your comforts and you just assumed that Luke would share the details of his life if he wanted to “will you excuse me for just a sec?” You asked cutting off one of Quinn’s old friends as you saw Luke heading up the stairs. 

The boy shot you a smile and motioned to you to go. Nobody ever needed to look hard into the relationship, you looked at Luke like he was the man who made the moon and the stars that sprinkled around the universe. It may not have been the case but he was the light of your universe and the stars of your eyes. 

Jack and Quinn couldn’t help but watch, softly elbowing each other as they knew it was only you and Luke up there “think they’re finally gonna do it?” Jack asked sipping at the eggnog from his cup. 

Quinn pursed his lips together “I think it’s been a little too long for that.” The captain craved to be proven wrong, this was probably the first and the last time he touch of that really.

You saw Luke on his phone “hey,” your voice was soft wanting to check up on him “oh hi.” Luke smiled turning around to see you. 

His phone got tucked into his back pocket “thought you were going to still be downstairs.” He added, having had watched you talk away with that boy most of the recent hour. 

But you shook your head “I wanted to check on up on you.” The act was something meant to be innocent, like it always was. Because you cared for him, this was the what you were meant to do, and what you had always done.

It made him smile “look if you want a quiet day tom-” you were almost immediately cut off “I actually just want to spend time with you alone.” Luke explained making your heart feel so full. 

You loved the way that he had with words even if you envied him, it made it so much easier falling in love with him “so you wanna stay up here for a bit?” The request made you nod, taking his hand with a squeeze as the two of you took the three step walk to his room.

His door opened letting the mistletoe drop from the frame that was only seen when the lights turned on, causing your eyes to go wide “shit.” Luke grumbled as it sat between the two of you. It was like a sign from the universe, begging for one of you to put it out of its misery. 

The mistletoe stood above the two of you, shining like it was sent from the gods to put you both out of your misery “we don’t have to.” Luke felt his jaw go slack, not wanting to make you uncomfortable as you stared up at the leaf fixture “Jack thought it was funny to put it there.” He added remembering how he was actually planning on removing it the night before. 

Oh how different that night would have turned out if he had. 

A dry laugh left your lips “who are we to go against an age old tradition?” You asked letting your eyes lock onto his “are you sure?” Luke studied how plump your lips were and god he just wanted to kiss them. 

You ran your fingers over the knitted fabric that was your Christmas sweater “I feel like I should be asking you that?” You shot back slightly raising your eyebrows as you felt that he was trying to tell you something in a softer way. 

Oh god no, he thought to himself shaking his head “I do wanna kiss you!” The panic escaped in his voice, doing little to help his nerves as his heart and mouth betrayed his brain “but only if you want to kiss me too.” The boy straightened his shirt with a cough attempting to block the embarrassment that  came over his cheeks. 

You smiled with a nod “I wanna kiss you Lukey.” Your head buzzed as you drunk one too many vodka cranberries that night.

His hand cupped your cheek as he nodded “and we agree that this won’t make anything awkward right?” His words made you roll your eyes. Sure you knew he was being cautious and you should have appreciated how much he cared for your feelings, but god you just wanted to kiss him.

So that’s what you did, you wrapped your arms around his neck so that you could bring him down to you. The move took the boy by surprise as he steadied himself placing his other hand on your hip. His lips were rough against yours, reminding you that you needed to buy him a chapstick he’d actually like. 

Luke always knew that your lips were going to taste good, but he never could have predicted that you could have taste that sweet. It caused this buzzing sense in his head that only stopped when you pulled away just as the sound of footsteps came from the stairs “oh good mom you found it!” Quinn called out going back downstairs. 

You drank in the sight of Luke, your lip gloss shone on his lips as he fiddled with his hair “I guess we should go back down?” Luke asked with a shrug as you nodded “maybe just-” you brought your thumb to his lip. Brushing your finger against his lip to collect the product from his lips “there.” You took a step back with a smile seeing that there was now no evidence of the fact that you had kissed him. 

The only issue with this kiss was that neither one of you would remember it. Well you both it, but because it was what you had longed for, it felt like a dream. And with the fear of rejection creeping up your neck like an uncontrollable rash, it was best to keep it all to yourselves. 

Because after all how does one ask someone if they really did kiss last night?

+𝟏

The crackling noises of the burning wood echoed in your ears as you stared at the campfire “you should talk to her.” Quinn’s voice was soft, somehow still startling Luke who stood by the cooler. 

His hand gripped at the new beer can “why would I do that?” Luke asked, adjusting his gaze to make out that he wasn’t looking at you “are we seriously going to do this again?” Quinn couldn’t help but let out a laugh. 

He had spent what felt like Luke’s whole life watching the both of you dance around your feelings. Luke’s lips turned upright into a smile at the sound of your laughter, which made his heart bloom with joy, but that was short-lived when he saw Jack being the cause of what you found so funny. 

Luke’s lips were quickly forced into a thin line as his hand tightened around his drink “Luke, Jack is the last guy that she would ever go for.” Quinn reminded his brother, placing his hand on his taller brothers back. 

It made the Devils player furrow his eyebrows “you don’t know that.” Everyone in fact knew that, Jack was the kind of man that you would have ended up killing if you had to live with him for the rest of your life. Hell even Luke knew it, but he was willing to forget about the logic. He never seemed ready to acknowledge that there was a chance you could like him back.

A whine escaped your lips “y’know lying is just mean right?” You sunk back into your chair “yeah well I ain’t lying.” Jack shot back rolling his eyes. 

You clearly didn’t believe the boy as your arms crossed “fine look at them right now and if he isn’t then I will shut up.” Jack clasped his hands together as if a lightbulb had turned on above him. You sighed sending him a nod as you turned your body back to the porch, allowing your eyes to scan the area for Luke. The boy cut himself off in the conversation with Quinn when your eyes locked with his “this means nothing.” You mumbled still in denial. 

It honestly should have been so obvious to you both, I mean everyone around you both noticed but the two of you.

The night carried on with you trying to ignore Jacks comments as Luke did the same. Cole let out a yawn as he blinked “I think it is time for bed.” He announced placing his hands in his thighs as he got up watching a few of the guys agree with him.

As the last two besides for you and Luke, Quinn patted Jacks shoulders “why don’t we head up to bed too?” He asked, barely giving his younger brother a chance to say no. Jack was pulled up as he sent you both a salute “don’t stay up too la-” his tease was cut off when Quinn slapped his hand over Jacks mouth. 

Luke watched Quinn and Jack walk back into the house before he turned back to see you smiling at him “what?” Luke asked pushing his curls out of his eyes. 

He worried that he had something on his face “why don’t you come sit with me?” You offered, patting the camping chair next to you. It felt weird having him sat on what felt like the other side of the fire, he was way too far away from you for your own liking “do I have to?” Luke let out this dramatic sigh letting you know he was messing with you as he got up. 

It was nice just being alone with him away from just your bedroom. Since he moved to New Jersey you really did appreciate the one on one time that you got with him “I’m glad you came this year.” Luke confessed finally taking his place in the chair next to you. 

You rested your head against the back of your chair “I’ll always come for you.” Your hand reached for his wanting to reassure him “unfortunately for you the return policy on this friendship is long expired so you’re like really stuck with me.” You spoke in a serious tone that made him laugh. 

Luke squeezed your hand “darn I was just figuring out how to write my reason for returning ya.” You reached out to hit him “and what was that going to be?” You cocked your head running your tongue along your teeth as you smirked. 

He felt his heart pound sitting closer to you “don’t think it makes a lot of sense yet.” Luke shook his head, not having an actual answer for you. 

The crackle of the fire served as the perfect background noise “well you’ve got to speak now or else you might really be stuck with me.” You pointed out sticking your tongue out at him making the boy grin as he shook his head. 

Truthfully he was never going to return you, hell it was going to have to be you returning him if anything. Even then he was not going to leave you without a fight to stay.

Luke ran his fingers along your jaw “I think coming to Jersey would be good for you.” He knew it was one of your options for what you’d do after you graduated “oh god are we gonna be those friends who end up living next to each other and raise their kids together?” You laughed opting to cover the nerves that coarsed through your veins. 

It made the boy shake his head “can I tell you something?” He asked sucking at his teeth “you know you can tell me anything.” You nodded ignoring how close your face was to his. 

Luke could hear Jack and Quinn in his mind screaming at him to finally stop being such a baby and just tell you how he felt “and it can’t change our friendship.” You now grew worried at words “you’re scaring me.” That was also what Luke didn’t want. 

So before he dug himself into a hole he just decided to jump off of the decision cliff he was on “I like you.” The words escaped from his lips “so when you talk about us living next to each other with our families it’s not nice.” He shook his head watching you listen.

But he didn’t stop there “and it kills me that you don’t feel the same-””you think I don’t like you?” You asked letting out a laugh as he nodded. 

You threw your head back shaking your head “oh god Luke I’m mad about you.” The words were meant to be innocent but they lit a fire under his ass “but then why do you talk about us raising separate families together?” Luke scoffed almost thinking that this was a dream and you were joking. 

But still it was your turn to explain to him “I thought that it was all I’d get.” You shrugged feeling your cheeks grow warm. 

Under the moonlight as the fire illuminated your face, you looked beautiful “can I kiss you?” The question was something you had wanted to hear for such a long time now “yeah.” You nodded with a grin dropping your head as he cupped your cheek so that you could kiss him. 

The kiss had you swearing that fireworks should have been going off around you guys. The boy was sweet letting the taste of whatever lipgloss you wore make him feel drunk. Was it vanilla? Or maybe even cherry? Well he didn’t really care, it taste good and he was getting to kiss you.

Jack and Quinn stood in the kitchen watching with smiles on their faces “who would have thought that it would take them this long to finally get together?” He laughed shaking his head “I am just glad that we don’t have to put up with another summer of these two and their puppy dog glances.” Quinn shuddered at the thought, mentally cringing at the idea of having to listen to Luke psych himself out of telling you how he felt. 

But what both boys forgot, was that when you have been in love with someone for so long, when you finally get them you enjoy it “oh god.” Jack slapped his hand over his mouth watching Luke pull you onto his lap. 

His hands cupped your ass, deepening the kiss as you were addictive to Luke “and just like that it got weird.” Quinn announced listening to Jack agree as they shut the blind of the kitchen window, opting to finally give you both some privacy. 

[xoxochb]

Sweet girl diary entry!!!!!!! Pls pls pls. Just like, a lil ficlet as if Sweet Girl is writing in her diary. The whole

“dear diary. Today at camp…”

I just wanna find out more abt my baby’s life 🥺

I’ve never wrote something from first person but this is actually soooo criminally cute 🥹🥹

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

dear diary journal,

diary sounds too girly.

well I am a girl. but it sounds too 2000s romcom starring anne hathaway where her love interest his chad michael murray the y2k it boy.

he’s pretty sexy though, I won’t lie. we’ll switch it back to diary tomorrow when I find the motivation to erase and rewrite it.

it’s monday, february third. I hate mondays. but not as much as I hate sundays I freaking HATE sundays with a passion. percy always makes fun of me when I talk about my deep loathing for sundays. so I pull his hair in retaliation. I won’t tell him I half do that just to touch his soft hair because then he’d just make fun of me even more.

this morning it took me 2 whole hours to get out of bed. and it wasn’t necessarily my fault because percy wanted to dilly-dally per usual. and he also bribed me with twenty dollars and the best half an hour long make out session so I think it might’ve been worth it.

but I finally managed to get him out of bed following this. I stayed at his cabin again because I think it’s my new home at this point. we showered— and after ten minutes of trying to keep his hand out from between my legs we dressed and went to lunch because we had skipped breakfast.

and I was sad because I like breakfast. but percy made up for it and made me french toast for lunch. he even put confectionery sugar on it!!!!!!

after I ate lunch I left him and found annabeth. we had an hour long debate over historical arguments it was kinda epic. percy doesn’t like when I say epic he says it makes me sound like a five year old boy. so I say it to make him angry. but I don’t think he could ever be angry with me so I guess I win either way.

I left cabin six around three o’clock and ran into grover and juniper. they were weaving stick bracelets for the younger campers so I helped them for a while. and when I finished I gave all my bracelets to little lucille she’s an angel. she gave me a kiss on the cheek.

after I dropped off the bracelet I went back to cabin three. but percy was fast asleep. and when he’s asleep I’m sure he could be out through an entire war. he doesn’t even have a blanket on— the blue blanket I had bought him specifically because it’s his favorite color.

I managed to retrieve the blanket from beneath him and put it above him. then I joined him in his nap and I think I was out for like two hours to be honest. he was still asleep when I woke up though.

so I laid with him until he woke up just before dinner. unsurprisingly, we skipped it like breakfast. we stayed in bed until eight. or I did at least. I forced percy to get up and get me ice cream, and bring the loving boyfriend he is, he brought me back my favorite peanut butter + oreo ice cream combo. I love him.

I ate it within the next five minutes and then complained to him about being cold. percy is the only person who’ll listen to me complain so I take advantage of it.

he recommended having a ‘special way’ to make me warm. by his smirk alone I knew what he meant. but I would’ve known without seeing him at all, he’s predictable sometimes.

and not to anyone’s surprise, I let him show me his special way. and to say I was warmed up would be an understatement. but I won’t go into details because I’m not my boyfriend— who would, without a second thought go into graphic detail.

and then a half an hour later he crashed. and then that brings me to now. it’s not that I can’t sleep but I’d much rather prefer to have time to catch up on reading for a bit since my day had been busy. but then I saw my journal/diary and got sidetracked so I guess that didn’t really work out.

but overall my day was pretty good!! and… I should probably go to sleep soon because it’s…. I’ll be back in a second.

it’s one thirty two in the morning. off to bed I go!

until tomorrow, xoxo sweet girl.

[elliecore4eva]

Id love a reader x elille story were elille is out on patrol and finds reader injured and takes them in and reader gets more comfortable and left there guard down over time and comes to finally trust Ellie only for elille to overthink and start panicking thinking about caring about someone so hard maybe make it take place after or before Joel's death and maybe make it a series

oooh i love this! i had so much fun writing this piece i called the series “Through the Snow and Shadows” i was also thinking of turning it into a 4 or 5 part series! Thank you so much for requesting! Hope you like it, love!💕

Disclaimer: I used the pronouns, she/her, i wasn’t sure which one to use, please let me know if i would change it to another one!

Pairing : Ellie Williams x Fem! Reader

Genre: Angst/ fluff : slow- burn

Summary: Through the Snow and Shadows follows Ellie as she rescues an injured woman on patrol and brings her back to Jackson. As their bond grows, Ellie struggles with her fear of opening up after losing Joel. Through small moments of trust and vulnerability, they both begin to heal, but Ellie must confront her panic about caring for someone again. A slow-burn, emotional journey with a romantic ending.

Another Disclaimer: There are no specific descriptions of the reader. i did this so it can be enjoyed by a lot of people. Again if there are any elements that make people feel uncomfortable please do call me out, respectfully of course since it isn’t my intention to do so.

Part 1 - Found in the Snow

Ellie had never liked the cold. The bitter wind that cut through her jacket, the snow that coated the ground like a never-ending blanket of white—it all felt wrong. And yet, here she was, trudging through the dense forest outside of Jackson on another patrol, just like any other day. She didn’t expect it to be anything special. It wasn’t supposed to be.

But then she found you.

She had caught sight of your figure lying in the snow, half-buried, limp, and completely still. Ellie’s heart skipped, panic bubbling in her chest as she rushed forward, her breath coming in quick, panicked bursts. She knelt beside you, her hands trembling slightly as she reached out to check for a pulse.

You were alive. Barely. But alive.

The sight of your blood-drenched shirt and torn skin made Ellie’s stomach twist, but she had no time to dwell on it. She had to act. She knew the risks. She’d seen the infected, the bandits—hell, she’d lost people she loved. But you? You were human. And you needed help.

The trek back to Jackson felt like an eternity. Every step Ellie took, carrying you through the snow, felt heavier than the last. She was tired, cold, and scared, but she couldn’t let you go. Not like this. Not when you were still breathing, still fighting.

When she finally reached the gates of Jackson, Tommy and a couple of the medics helped get you inside. Ellie was too worn out to speak, her mind swirling with a million questions she didn’t have answers to. What had happened to you? How had you ended up out here all alone?

And why, despite everything, did Ellie feel this strange pull to stay by your side?

Days passed, and Ellie found herself visiting you in the infirmary every chance she got. It wasn’t like her to linger, to get involved with someone she didn’t know. She had learned long ago to keep her distance, to keep her guard up. But you were different. The way you looked at her, the silence between you, it made Ellie feel like there was something more, something she wasn’t sure she could ignore.

You didn’t say much at first. When Ellie would bring food or clean bandages, you’d barely acknowledge her presence. But Ellie couldn’t stop herself from coming back, even if it meant facing the awkwardness of the silence between you.

One afternoon, Ellie sat beside your bed, watching as you stared out the window, lost in your own thoughts.

“How’re you feeling?” Ellie asked, her voice tentative. She didn’t want to push you. She didn’t know if you wanted to talk. But she was here, and she wasn’t going anywhere.

You didn’t answer at first, your eyes distant, as though the question hadn’t registered. Ellie’s fingers twitched with the urge to reach out, to make some kind of connection. But she stopped herself. You hadn’t asked for that.

After a long pause, you glanced at her, your expression unreadable. “I don’t belong here,” you muttered, almost to yourself.

Ellie’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You’re too nice to me,” you replied, your voice barely audible. “I don’t deserve it.”

Ellie’s heart clenched at the raw vulnerability in your voice. She didn’t know what you had gone through to feel like this, but she could understand. She’d felt it too—like she wasn’t worthy of kindness, like she didn’t deserve any of it.

“Everyone deserves kindness,” Ellie said softly, her voice steady despite the way her stomach was twisting. She was trying to be strong for you, even though she didn’t feel strong herself.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and thick. Neither of you spoke again for a while, and Ellie found herself lost in her own thoughts. She wasn’t used to this. She wasn’t used to caring so much about someone she didn’t know. But there was something about you, something that made her want to stay.

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

The Heart of Your Home Pt 6

Summary: Arthur comes across a woman in need. What he thought was a simple good deed would take him down a much further path than anticipated.

Warnings: Tension, cursing, smut

Word Count: 6,743

A/N: The long awaited chapter of this! With a new job under my belt it's become easier to write. Have fun my Arthur stans!

Nervous fingers tensed and uncurled endlessly around the worn leather reins, something Arthur had been doing since he left the humidity of Lemoyne behind to the cooler, crisper air of New Hanover once again. The familiar pines and jagged peaks of Ambarino appeared in the distance the closer he and his horse approached. 

He inhaled the fifth cigarette he’s had in the past two hours. The earthy taste long gave way to bitterness and ash, and all it achieved was the burning ache in his lungs. The damn leaf stick did nothing to soothe his nerves. 

The closer he got to your house, the more his heart pounded. The more his stomach roiled. The more his thoughts screamed at him to turn around.  But he kept going, kept moving. Kept along the path he’d become all too familiar with. 

The conversation played in his head. He planned to keep it short and simple; a quick explanation that didn’t give too much away, but enough to hopefully not keep you wondering about him. He tried hard not to think of how you’d react. Would you be disappointed? Sad? Angry?...Maybe relieved? 

He stopped himself short of that thought, knowing he damn well shouldn't even be considering what you'd feel. This visit would be final. Cutting the cord and leaving you to live the life you intended if he'd never intervened. 

But you'd be dead if he hadn't intervened the first time... 

He sighed heavily, flicking the half-finished cigarette to the ground. Strangers came and went all the time in his life, stumbling across them in their endeavors before they requested some odd favor or another. Sometimes there would be a second encounter, maybe even a third. None of which ever led to this point. 

His stallion’s head perked, ears pricked forward as if recognizing where they were, just before Arthur veered off the main path toward the little homestead. The horse nickered in excitement, and Arthur almost smiled. His steed had made a friend of the mare, and a small pang followed knowing they too would no longer be...friends. 

It was only a short moment before the house loomed through the trees. The stallion naturally tried to tug toward the barn in the back, but Arthur kept the reins steady, steering them forward to the front of the house. “Sorry, boy,” he murmured before coming to a halt just before the porch steps. He stared up at the house, his heart suddenly racing beneath his ribs. His hand reached for his satchel, subconsciously wanting another cigarette but instead found purchase on a bottle neck. He pulled it free, uncorking the whiskey and taking a swig, the flavor immediately washing away the remaining taste of the cigarette. 

What was wrong with him? Needing courage to simply talk to you was a strange, unfamiliar feeling. He put the alcohol away and dismounted, slowly trudging up the steps to the front door. It occurred to him that he didn't even know if you were home or not, and he probably ought to have checked the barn for the mare beforehand. 

He hesitated with the thought of what if your husband was home too? That would be beyond awkward. 

He pulled the screen door away, raised his fist and knocked once, twice, three times, and waited, his ears straining for any movement on the opposite side. It was quiet, and for some reason that made his anxiety worse. He was about to turn around when the door creaked open. Arthur stood rooted, his eyes snapping to your figure in the threshold. 

His breath caught, suddenly forgetting everything he meant to say. Since his realization last night, you had been in his thoughts whether he wanted you to or not, it was just hard to push away. 

But as soon as his eyes met yours, a rock settled in his stomach. There was a stoic, cool expression on your face, lips pressed in a thin line as your gaze shifted slightly to break away from his. There was a subtle change to your expression, one that reminded him of...apprehension. 

“Hello, Arthur,” you said in a tone void of all familiarity. “May I help you with something?” 

The reaction caught him off guard. “Uh,” he huffed out, eyes briefly sliding to his feet. “I...wanna talk to ya about somethin’. May I?” 

There was a brief hesitation, but you gave a small nod and stepped aside, gesturing for entrance. He released a small breath and stepped through the threshold, his gaze sweeping over the familiar interior. He'd gotten so used to the warmth and the air filled with a savory scent, that it surprised him it was absent this time around. The door closed, and his attention moved to you. 

The way you moved was both stiff and swift, gliding over to the window overlooking the sink. The counters were bare, no pot simmering on the stove. The air, as cold as it was, felt thick with tension. Or was that his imagination? 

The silence grew, and Arthur couldn't muster up the words. He stared at your back, your shoulders hiked up as you pressed your hands against the edge of the sink. Every inch of your body was tense, as if you were just expecting bad news. Have you somehow figured out his intention for this visit? He highly doubted it, but he had to wonder... 

No, no more wayward thoughts. He mentally scolded himself. Just get over it, you idiot. 

Taking a breath, he said your name. “I wanna tell you something...” he started out. 

The speed of which you whipped around to face him caught him by surprise, your face alight with anger. “Have you come to tell me that you're a criminal on the run from the law?!” 

His breath punched out from his chest. His first instinct was to deflect, but from the look on your face, this wasn't a speculation. You'd somehow found out the truth.  

A fleeting memory brushed his mind. A man of the name Jimmy Brooks in Valentine who recognized him simply because they were both in Blackwater during the failed heist. Arthur chased him down, nearly pushed him off a cliff and helped him back up at the last second, but not without leaving a permanent impression of his character. 

He couldn't do that to you. Hell, he couldn't even fathom having an inkling of a harmful thought toward you. 

What could he do? Nothing. Nothing rational, really. There was no talking his way out of this, no threat to hang over you for holding a heavy truth. With the looming pressure of the Pinkertons on their heels is what drove them further east, how likely would it be that everyone would have to up and move AGAIN? 

Would you turn him in? 

You stared him down expectantly, as if waiting for the defense. Instead, he took a deep breath and finally responded. “So, you know.” 

“I know,” you repeated, your glare sharpening. 

“How?” He asked. 

“I was just in Blackwater, with my cousin. I saw your wanted poster,” every word slid out heated. “I can't believe I let you into my house, multiple times! Were you planning to rob me, kill my husband or—” 

“No,” his answer was sharp, but his posture remained still. “I...” he trailed off, wondering exactly how to even defend his actions for his repeated visits. 

Your eyes narrowed. “I don't believe you,” you hissed, hands gripping the edge of a nearby chair. “Your poster said you committed some heinous crimes, how am I to believe you just came around for—for stew?!” 

More than stew, he wanted to say. But that was pointless to even bring up. His gaze kept steady on you, observing the anger that was nearly tangible, rolling off you in waves. It churned his stomach the way you stared daggers at him, and he inwardly scolded himself. It shouldn't matter. Hell, this process might've just made it easier for him to cut it off now between the two of you, before it got more painful for either side. 

“Y’ gonna get the Pinkertons?” He asked before the question even fully formed in his mind. “Turn me in? I'm sure that $5,000 reward would be more than enough for you n’ Frederick.” 

Now it was your turn to be caught off guard. You reeled back on your heels as if his words slapped you, your eyes widening for a fraction of a second before returning to that cold hard scowl. “I should,” you growled. “From what I've heard, you and your...gang caused a lot of mayhem and death.” 

Arthur gave a half shrug. “Never said I was a Saint,” he chuckled darkly. “Sorry to disappoint.” 

“Disappoint? More like horrify!” You exclaimed. “All this time I've had a wanted man in my home,” you shook your head. “I should've known after that day...with the O’Driscolls...” 

The memory of the bloody massacre that occurred just outside of Valentine flickered to life. The shock on your face when you’d learned he killed at least a dozen of them and got away with non life-threatening injuries. 

“Only to find out you’re no different!” 

That caused Arthur to jolt. “I ain't nothin’ like those Irish bastards!” He exclaimed. “They kidnap n’ kill for fun, n’ a lot worse if they get the goddamned chance!” 

“And you don't?!” You demanded. 

“Course not,” he growled. “I'm mean, nasty, an ugly sunova bitch, but I don't kill for fun. I don't take pleasure in none of that.” 

Your brow furrowed, and there was a second of hesitation before you spoke, “But you've hurt people. Killed. Robbed! How does that make you better than them?!” 

Arthur scoffed. “I never said it did,” his arm snapped in the air with an exasperated flourish. “But I don't tolerate the O’Driscolls. I got no hard feelings about killin’ them that day.” 

You said nothing then, your mouth set in a hard line as you stared hotly at him, body tensed like a bowstring. “And why do you keep coming back here?” You demanded. “Trying to make friends and rob me in the night?!” 

“I said no already!” Arthur snapped incredulously. “If that were my plan, I would've done it weeks ago!” 

“Then what reason, Arthur?” You repeated. “What about me captures the interest of a notorious outlaw?!” 

Arthur took a deep breath. “Nothin’ with ill intent,” he grumbled. 

“So, what? I'm to assume your intentions were noble, then?” You sarcastically quip. 

Arthur’s gaze locked to yours. “I ever gave you a reason I was here to take advantage of your kindness?” 

The tension in your body loosened a touch. “No,” you admit, your brow furrowing with thought. “No...y-you've been nothing but kind.” 

Kind was not a word he'd ever use to describe himself. And he wondered again what was the purpose of continuing this argument, to convince you despite his background, his intentions were nothing nefarious. 

The glimmer of common sense once again touched his mind. He should've left with the first accusation; to leave you believing he was just another monster to make the severed connection sting less. But that thought bothered him more than he'd like to admit. 

“But how do I know you're not fooling me?” You asked, the tone in your voice softer now but your face was still tense. “You said you're mean and nasty, but...you've never acted that way toward me.” 

Arthur folded his arms across his chest, his eyes shifting to the worn floorboards. The answer burned in his throat, with every thought and realization that appeared in the last twenty-four hours, but he kept it clamped tight. 

The silence stretched between the two of you. He knew you waited for him to answer, but his response would be the second most illogical part of this day. Lord, why didn't he just leave it be and stayed put in Lemoyne? This trip was a bad idea, not only risking sight by the Pinkertons, but also further involving himself with you when he meant to just end it? 

He was stupid, an utter imbecile. 

The creak of the floorboards caught his attention, and he looked to see you take one step closer, an inquisitive look on your face. “Why, Arthur?” You pressed. 

He gritted his teeth, looking away again. His heart began to pound, and his fingers itched toward the satchel for another cigarette, or a gulp of whiskey, whatever found its way into his grasp first. 

“Arthur, will you please answer me?” You took another step, your figure appearing in his peripheral. 

His breath shuddered. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” he finally said. “Or you'd hate me even more.” 

Without waiting for your response, he turned away to face the door. But before his hand rested on the knob, a soft and warm grasp wrapped around his forearm. 

“Do not walk away without finishing this,” you said with a fierce growl that surprised him. He flicked his gaze over his shoulder to you, noting the determination on your features. “I called you my friend and friends don't do that to one another.” 

“Friend?” He expelled a harsh, humorless laugh. “After all that you found out about me, you'd still call me that?” 

“Answer the damn question, Arthur Morgan! Why would I not believe you?” you countered. 

Arthur flinched for a split second, and his heart began to hammer. You uttering his last name when he’d only revealed his first just confirmed the revelation of his truth. Why couldn't you just leave well enough alone? Why couldn't you just let him go? 

Physically, you had no true hold on him. Not that he'd make an attempt to hurt you, but he could easily rip himself from your grasp and hurry out without a second glance despite what you'd say or do to pry an answer. 

Emotionally? It was like that hand on his arm gripped his heart. The silent plea that lingered behind your hard, impatient gaze. The hard line of your mouth as you stared him down. It was as if you were somehow compelling him to stay without even saying a word. 

God damn it. 

It was like his walls slowly crumbled as his body turned to face you again. But he couldn't look in your eyes to even admit this to you, because he didn't deserve to. 

“Maybe...” he began, staring at your feet from beneath the brim of his hat. “Because I'm a damn fool in thinkin’ you'd remain nothin’ but a stranger to me.” 

There was a second of silence. “What?” You asked, confusion coloring your tone. 

His chest heaved, the lingering effect of those cigarettes still tainting his airways. Or maybe that was the nervousness that made it suddenly harder to breathe. “At some point, I...fell...for you.” He finally admitted quietly. 

The silence stretched for more than a few heartbeats now. Blood roared in his ears at a rhythmic rate as he waited for a response. But there was none. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, traveling up your body until his eyes were level with yours again. 

You looked absolutely dumbfounded. Your brows furrowed and your lips parted as if whatever words you were trying to say were snatched away. He waited for your response. The denial, the disbelief. The reminder that you were married. The demand to get out of the house so he would never have to even shadow your doorstep again. 

The silence once again stretched, becoming heavier by each passing second. The more he waited, the more turbulent his stomach became. He wasn't sure what was worse; his admittance or our absolute silence. He'd much rather you explode on him in anger than this. 

“Comin’ here today was a mistake,” he finally murmured, once again attempting to turn towards the door. Your grip tightened. 

“Arthur...” your voice was barely audible. 

“I know you ain't deaf,” he said. “Cause there ain't no way you wanna speak to me after that.” 

“Arthur, hang on,” you said again, louder this time. 

His head swung to look at you. “Why?” He demanded. “If you had any sense, you'd be tellin’ me to leave!” 

That hard stare returned as you pursed your lips for a moment. “Was that the reason why you showed up today?” You asked thickly. “To tell me...that?” 

“No, I came here to tell you I was leavin’,” he clarified, finally able to give the reason. 

“Leaving?” you repeated, the tone in your voice seemed...offended? That confused him. 

“Yes,” he gritted out, mentally shaking clear of the brief bewilderment. 

“Why?” 

The sigh he emitted may as well echo around the entire damn state. “Why d’ you think?” he asked flatly. “Can’t stay in one place too long, or else risk gettin’ caught. ‘Sides, it ain’t worth the trouble stayin’ when...” he trailed off as the next words halted just behind his lips. When the realization of his feelings toward you would end in nothing but a quickly dashed dream. 

You sucked in a breath then. From the look on your face, it was clear you knew what he meant, and he wasn’t even sure how to feel about it anymore. He’d done the deed, and now it was time to move on. Leave this God-forsaken state behind and return to that little peninsula he wasn’t sure if it were marginally better. 

No, not by any means was Clemens Point any better than...than here. 

Taking a deep breath, Arthur turned again, reaching out to pull the door open. The handle felt too cold even in his gloved hand, and it seemed like the damn thing stuck for a second before finally giving way. 

“Wait,” 

For whatever reason he paused, looking over his shoulder at you. At that moment you took a few steps closer. The anger had since melted away from your features, but a look of...something else...replaced it. It was a familiar look, but he couldn’t place the emotion. 

“I shouldn’t,” he murmured, the door creaking open further. 

“I...” you audibly swallowed, eyes closing for a moment before opening again. Your voice dropped low and rough, as if you were on the verge of tears. “I don’t want you to leave.” 

Those words froze him in place. He recognized it now, what was traversing through your mind. Shit, he’d seen too often over the years, but had become numb to it when it wasn’t relevant to him. When love and romance no longer held a place in his life. A look of longing. 

Hosea’s words echoed in his mind. I know that look of longing. He spun around. It was on the tip of his tongue to demand why all over again, when you drew closer, only a mere half-foot between the two of you. Your eyes were wide and shining with a penetrating stare. A jolt shot through his heart when he was suddenly reminded of the early morning he found you crying by the fireplace. 

And it occurred to him then, he never wanted to see you cry over another man again. 

His hands, his damned hands, acting as if detached from his mind, rose and slowly settled on your hips. You didn’t move from his touch, your own hands appearing to rest lightly on his chest. 

The silence weighed like the thick morning mist in Lemoyne. His skin tingled pleasantly from your touch, as if awakening a sense that had long since lay dormant. A single tear slid down your cheek, and his right hand automatically raised to wipe it away, his palm lingering against your soft, warm cheek. 

“Arthur...” you sighed thickly, your face leaning into his touch. “Please...” 

Don’t leave. 

The unsaid phrase rung in his head as if spoken out loud. His lips pursed and the internal war raged again. He may not be a good man, but pursuing you would certainly tip the scales more against him than they already were. He didn’t deserve you, and you didn’t deserve an unruly outlaw to steal you away from an honest working man. 

But the way you stared at him spoke legions.  

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, and you inched closer, the unspoken plea growing more intense on your face. His breath caught. 

“Y' need to tell me to leave,” Arthur whispered roughly, the hand on your hip flexing. Beneath the pounding of his heart, he hoped you’d take that one last chance to banish him from your life entirely. 

“No,” you said firmly despite the glassy sheen in your eyes. “I want you to stay.” 

He took a deep, stuttering breath. Morals be damned, he couldn’t just walk away now. Not when you had him like this... 

Arthur dipped his head at the same time you stretched up. Lips met, warm and soft, foreign and familiar. The last of the brooding thoughts all but shriveled away the moment the kiss began, but others crashed over him like a wave. It’d been too long without another in his arms, too long since he sought the comfort of another body. 

But you weren’t a body. 

His mouth moved, slowly and gently against yours. It was a tentative, almost nervous move, as if waiting for your refusal. None came though as you reciprocated, matching his movement with your own. Breaths were exchanged between slightly parted mouths with each passing second, the kiss deepening with a slow, heady ascension. The hand on your cheek slid to the back of your neck, tangling into your tresses. 

Every nerve in his body sparked to life in a way he’d forgotten. A rush of excitement and anticipation flooding his senses. He parted from you with just mere inches, his forehead resting against yours. It seemed both of you were out of breath. 

Your hands still fisted in his shirt, but your body was pressed to his in the most pleasant way. 

There were no words, not a single phrase to even describe how he was feeling that moment. His lips tingled, his mind buzzed. All he wanted to do was to hold you, to kiss you, to... 

Your hands suddenly left his chest and you stepped free of his grasp. In the moment of loss and confusion, thinking he’d somehow overstepped, you took his hand in yours and began to lead him to...oh. 

His heart shot to his throat as the door next to the guest room opened, revealing a bedroom not too different than the other, but somehow it seemed more personal, more lived in. He didn’t really have time to ponder the similarities when the door shut, and your arms slid around his neck. 

Arthur’s eyes widened, his stomach knotting as he gazed down at you. There didn’t have to be any acknowledgement of what was on your mind. 

You wanted...him? 

That couldn’t be right. 

His eyes flicked to the immaculately made bed, the quilt soft and clean. That’s where you slept every night, alone...mostly. 

And you wanted him to take you in that very same bed. 

His teeth grit, suddenly remembering that damn dream. How you felt on top of him, the way his body responded to your touch and kiss. Would it be the same in real life? 

What should it matter, he was not worthy of your desire. It was a miracle you didn’t push him away after that kiss. 

“I...” he trailed off. 

You smiled sweetly at him; the sort of smile that made his insides knot even more. “I want this, Arthur,” you assured him, arms briefly leaving his neck to grasp his hands, placing them at your hips again. 

Do you? He wanted to ask, but he felt the warmth of your body through the dress you wore. His eyes fluttered shut as the meaning sunk in. You trusted him, even though just minutes ago you were screaming at him about his chosen life. Maybe it was your naivety, or your loneliness, the urge to have company in the absence of your husband, or— 

“Arthur,” 

His eyes shot open again, seeing the smile had softened on your lips. 

“I promise you, I want this,” you repeated sincerely. “But if you don’t, then—” 

He wasn’t sure what possessed him, but he silenced you with another kiss. It was rougher than the first, and the gasp of surprise from you was quickly replaced with a soft moan. Your arms were around his neck again, and he tugged you flush with his body. The knots of anxiety dissipated, replaced by a familiar sense of arousal. He leaned into you, forcing you to back up until the resistance of the bed met the back of your legs. 

His hand tangled in your hair once more, holding you to him as he pushed past your lips, exploring your mouth with a clumsy eagerness. Your leg hitched up as your ass rested on the edge of the bed, your inner thigh resting against his hip and damn if that miniscule movement didn’t excite him. 

What was he, a teenager? 

He stopped, fully aware of how his body was positioned over yours. He pulled back slightly just to say, “I want it, I guess I’m jus’ waitin’ for you to stop me,” he growled, finally admitting his thoughts of turmoil. 

“I won’t stop you,” you said breathlessly, a hand resting in this stubbled cheek. “I... need you.” 

He groaned at your words as arousal swelled in his lower stomach, gathering beneath his slowly tightening pants. His other hand soon busied, resting upon your chest to fiddle with the buttons of the dress. One by one he popped them open, revealing the thinner fabric underneath. A brief, clumsy moment passed as the two of you managed to peel the infuriating thing off, throwing it to the side and leaving you in just your undergarments. 

He paused then, eyes slowly roving over your body. He’d seen women in their undergarments before. Hell, living in a camp with next to no privacy, it was a familiar sight. A sight he never paid any mind to. But you...you were different. 

A memory surfaced, one that brought a myriad of emotions. Last time he had a woman like this was... 

“Arthur?” 

He blinked, bringing his focus to you again. The smile on your face was warm, and your hand reached up to cup his cheek. 

“Touch me where you’d like,” you said. “Anywhere.” 

Arthur let out a shuddering breath, erasing the prior thought from his mind. He lowered his gaze again, down your neck to the stretch of exposed skin between your collarbones and the swells of your breasts outlined by a chemise, the curvature accentuated by the corset on top. 

Anywhere... 

He raised a hand to tentatively cup your cheek for the briefest of moments before he trailed his fingers down, tracing the curve of your jaw, down the line of your neck, to the soft skin of your chest. You were warm, so warm...your heart fluttered beneath his palm. 

The corset was simple; clasps down the front. Slowly and deftly, he popped each clasp open, revealing just how sheer that chemise was. 

Your chest rose in a deep breath, and he couldn’t help but to give a slight smirk. He knew these damn things could be difficult to wear at times, but what lay beneath was a sight to behold. As the restriction fell from your waist completely, your back arched to him, your hips sliding deliciously across his, and he sucked in a breath of his own, momentarily distracted by the sweet friction. 

You smiled up at him encouragingly, but a mischievous glimmer briefly sparked in your eyes. You were playful. 

And that only pushed him further. 

His hands grasped at your hips, sliding his fingertips underneath the chemise to explore more of your curves. The fabric bunched up with the further his hands went, exposing your navel to the underside of your breasts, until your arms raised, and he obliged by sliding it off completely. 

Before he could even admire your top half, your hands reached to shimmy your underwear down, and Arthur could only stare as more skin was exposed to him, until you were completely bare. 

He stopped completely then, a breath caught in his throat to take your body in its entirety. Everything about you looked so beautiful; soft skin and curves, your nipples puckered in anticipation, the shadowed V between your legs a beckoning paradise. 

His eyes slowly met yours and he could see a slight flush to your face, but there was no shyness. You didn’t hide any part of you from him. 

His cock pulsed at the mere sight. 

“Are you just going to stare, Arthur?” you said in a soft but challenging voice. 

Hell no. But God damn if his thoughts didn’t give him pause. He wanted to fuck like he hadn’t in ages, to claim you in such an intimate way that there’d be no doubts who’d be on your mind for weeks to come. 

But he wasn’t that type of person anymore. 

He swallowed silently, searching your eyes one last time for any lingering doubt. But he couldn’t find it. 

And you didn’t give him the chance to consider his own. Your hand fisted in his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. That mercifully erased anything else out of his mind, as he explored your mouth a second time, his hands going for the softness of your breasts, kneading the flesh and pinching your nipples. A soft cry escaped from your mouth that he swallowed eagerly. 

He almost melted when the heat of your touch found its way to the crotch of his pants. You gripped him through the fabric, and he groaned in response, his hips twitching in search of more friction. 

But he wasn't greedy, not in that sense. 

One hand left your breast to slide down your abdomen, the curls of your center brushing his fingertips. Two fingers parted your outer folds, where he was faintly surprised to find you were soaked. 

Oh, Lord. 

Arthur pulled back just an inch or two, a spike of disbelief springing through the haze of pleasure. You wanted him so damn badly. 

The look you gave him only further confirmed this. Impatience wrinkled your brow as you wiggled underneath his grasp, and your hand slid along his length, still hidden by his jeans. 

He breathed out a low hiss. Fuck, you were making it even harder to not succumb entirely and just fuck you raw and senseless. 

“Easy now,” he rumbled, his pointer finger prodding for that bundle of nerves and found it almost immediately. The tentative swirl he made caused you to moan again. “Jus’ makin’ sure you're ready.” 

He soon picked up a rhythm, and your breath caught in a gasp as he increased his speed. “M-more than,” you stuttered breathlessly. 

A smile tugged on Arthur’s lips, and he swiped his finger through your slit. Yeah, you'd been ready, but he wanted to watch you...watch you release first. 

It was like slipping into a memory, one of a younger Arthur, where lust often controlled the forefront of his mind more nights than he could count. A saloon girl once showed him what it meant to bring pleasure to a woman, in more ways than one. There was a time where he was too impatient to care, but learned really quickly how much of a better experience it was if his partner found hers first. 

It’d been years since that lesson, but the picture was still vivid. And picking up the act was like muscle memory. His slid a finger into your heat, marveling at how wet you were. Your inner walls pulsed as he thrust, slowly at first, but then increased his pace. 

You writhed beneath him, the sweet noises passing your lips were so pretty. His name was a soft whine, one that almost pushed him to drop his pants in that very moment. 

But he kept going, entranced by how stunning you were. Your hips bucked up as he added another finger. Your hand clamped onto his forearm, as if encouraging him to do even more. 

Arthur sucked air between his teeth, fighting the urge to give completely into his desires. Your nails dug into the skin of his arm, that sweet sting sending a small jolt of grounding. 

“Arthur,” you gasped, “I-I’m almost there!” 

He moved even faster then, swirling his thumb against your clit while his fingers slid through the velvety wetness. You swore out loud, hips snapping up into his palm as your inner walls tensed, followed by a gush of sinful heat. 

As your body slowly relaxed, he withdrew his hand, eyes fixated on how his fingers glistened in the light. He then shifted his attention to your face, flushed and mouth parted in shallow breaths. He waited for that realization of regret, the one that would inevitably come after the post-orgasmic haze faded. 

But he could detect none of that. As your eyes met his, there was that sweet smile again, that indication that you were 100% for this. You beckoned him closer. 

“You sure?” he asked quietly, giving you one last out. 

“Yes,” you said with firm conviction. You sat up, gaze never leaving his as you reached for his shirt, beginning to unbutton. 

God, he knew he was going to Hell, but he might as well enjoy the ride before then. 

He shrugged off his shirt just as you reached the final button, then working on the union suit beneath just as you reached his pants. He was disrobed in just under a minute, baring himself and his arousal for you. 

He held his breath as you eyed him from head to toe, waiting for you to find a flaw, to tell him he was too plain or ugly to be with you. But there wasn’t any sort of comment. You instead reached to wrap your fingers around his length, and your soft skin against him made his hips twitch in search of that sweet friction. You smiled again, sliding your palm from root to tip, and he groaned softly, closing his eyes and reveling in a feeling that had been lost to him for years. His own roughened hand could never replace this. 

“Arthur,” 

He opened his eyes to look at you again. 

“Take me, please.” 

It was just that one simple request that drove him forward, pressing you back down to the bed, caging you between his arms. He held your gaze as he lined himself up, your legs widening to accommodate. 

“I...ain’t done this in a while,” he admitted almost shyly. Hell, it’s been years. “I may not last long.” 

You reached up to touch his cheek. “That’s okay.” 

He breathed in then, spurred by your touch and the absence of judgement. How were you even real? How was this even happening? It had to be a dream. 

A dream be damned, he pushed his hips forward, sliding the head of his manhood through your folds, coating himself in your wetness before finding your entrance. 

He inched forward slowly, feeling you accept him with ease. He bit his lip as he managed to fully sheath himself into your warmth, the pleasure almost dizzying. 

“Fuck,” he hissed out, and your legs hitched up to wrap around his waist. 

That did it. 

He began to move then, thrusting almost hesitantly, watching your face as it twisted with ecstasy. Soon he entered a smooth rhythm, his eyes never leaving you. Your arms wrapped around neck, nails dragging along his back. 

He hissed again, the sting spurring him just a bit faster. Your head kicked back with a breathy moan, exposing the length of your neck. He dipped down and pressed kisses along your damp skin, feeling the vibration of your pleasure against his lips. 

Your hips snapped up to meet his thrust. The motion brought him even deeper; the sensation causing his arms to tremble. This would surely end him, the way you manipulated him with just simple movements. 

“Arthur,” you moaned, so sweetly, breathily dragging his name like a song. 

No, that would end him right then. 

He squeezed his eyes shut as if that would stave off the impending release. As rusty as he was, he'd feel like shit if this was over in the next ten seconds. 

As your hips rolled along, he halted and let out a shuddering breath, one hand flying to grip your flesh. It was partly in control, partly in warning. Any more movement from you and... 

Your eyes met his and you seemed to understand his silent plea, relaxing underneath him, a small smile quirking the corner of your lips. 

His breath was one of relief, refocusing on his rhythm. Slow and deep, every inch such sweet delicious torture. Your body so warm and slick, your voice melodic. God, how was he NOT dreaming? 

But here you were beneath him still, taking him without judgement or hesitation. No inkling of pain or regret. “Faster, please,” you whined, your eyes hooded and fluttering with pleasure. 

Faster. He was doing good enough for you to demand that. He obliged immediately, losing himself in the lust and pleasure, in you. His head bowed, resting his forehead against your shoulder as he drove you deeper into the bed. The scent of your skin, soap and herbal, the gasps of your ecstasy in rhythm with his skin slapping against you, the rake of your nails down his back, all invaded his senses. 

Your breath hitched and your voice heightened, your body arching against his. You didn't have to vocalize your second release, not when your inner walls squeezed around him. 

Arthur groaned out a low curse, lifting his head to watch your face. Beautiful, stunning, absolutely ethereal were the words he could describe you in this moment, and it still wasn’t enough. 

Your hips bucked to meet his again, though he could tell it wasn’t on purpose. The claws of your orgasm caused you to jerk and twitch beneath him. He grit his teeth, caught between so desperately wanting to fight the building release and chasing it to completion. 

But he couldn’t fight it again, not when he’s been out of practice— 

It barreled down his stomach faster than he could process. He let out another curse and with one final slam of his hips against yours, he pulled out of your delicious heat just as he released. He groaned deeply as his seed spurt out in ropes along your belly. 

His heart raced, his breath shallow as he still hovered over you, watching your face as your gaze drifted from below, slowly back to him, your own breathing matching his. 

Silence fell, each breath taken quieting and evening out. Your eyes never left his. 

As the post-orgasmic haze began to clear, Arthur’s mind began to buzz. The mental fortitude he’d constructed in those previous moments began to falter, and he was expecting the inevitable. For you to push him away, to demand he’d leave. Hell, he should get up and leave as if this never happened. 

But you didn’t. 

Maybe this was a dream after all. 

Your hand raised to cup his cheek, a small pucker appearing between your brows. “Arthur, are you okay?” 

His eyes closed at your touch, realizing his face must’ve given away his thoughts. There were a hundred responses to that loaded question, but how could he explain what his deep thoughts and feelings were, just after you shared an amazing moment together? 

“Yes,” he finally said, opening his eyes. “I jus’...I ain’t been with anyone in a long while.” 

It was the truth of it all, with so much more behind it. 

Your eyes softened at this, and a small smile crossed your lips, and you leaned up to place a quick kiss on his other cheek. “You did just fine, if you’re worried about that.” 

He let out a small laugh. You didn’t understand the real meaning behind his words, but he couldn’t blame you. There was so much and so little he shared with you. But damn if your words didn’t inflate the small flicker of pride that swelled in his chest. 

Pride, not the usual self-deprecation that followed a compliment. It was just enough to squander those old feelings, at least for the time being. 

What would these few moments of paradise lead to next, he couldn’t help but to wonder. 

His downfall? 

[py-dreamer]

...hi again?

"WHAT IS THIS?!"

"WHERE'S THE MONKIE GANG? OR SHADOWPEACH?"

"HAS PY DROPPED OUT OF THE LMK FANDOM?!?!"

To answer that question: no. No I haven't

Short and concise answer is I do personally feel a little burnt out on lmk but while that doesn't mean I've abandoned it. Not in the slightest

Anyways, very busy time for me rn so updates and any art in particular will be VERY sparse in the coming months I'm afraid.

That being said, gotten back into an oldie of mine I'd never thought I'd revisit: Object Shows!

More specifically: Inanimate insanity

Look I was into this when I was like a preteen and grew out of it then all of a sudden II s2 ep18 dropped. Like hell, I didn't even know that invitational existed (and lowkey still haven't seen it- BUT I KNOW THE LORE, BOT IS MY WEE BABY OK I KNOW THE LORE)

And drawing these gijinkas kinda gave me more flexibility and let me design people again even though I'll admit quite a few ideas are very common in gijinka's used in the fandom

So um I'll see how this goes, I already have the sketches for the other season's cast and will probably post them regardless though.

Let's start with S1's king, the fruitiest lad on the aisle: OJ!

(Btw I think it's HOP rather than HOJP)

I know he's meant to be like a glass of OJ, so theoretically his hair should be more slick/smooth but I decided to go for the flowy juice angle! Something to make his hair look more like flowing liquid.

Orange slice earings! In fact, orange slice accessories everywhere! (it's so marketable srsly don't know why it ain't used more often)

The orange watch was a fun concept ^u^ specially since after getting the hotel, I'd imagine him being a lot more uptight with sh!t and use clocks/watches to keep track of things

TBH, he'd probably also have a pair of rectangular long glass dangly earings to swap out for like the formal events.

Yay! For slacks! Thought they'd look really cute on him and other than Suitcase, wanted to give him something unique rather than just a suit/suitjacket (eg the hosts, Taco)

But oh, look at that he comes with two outfits! Just like a doll...

Bet paper would bu-

(no but srsly I lowkey bet that fan has like mini action figures of the S1 cast in his room or something, maybe even S2 & 3 too.

Also this man might be snazzy but he has the ugliest ties. We're talking about the same person who designed his hotels to have hallways with windows but not bedrooms.

Paper! Such a cutie pie!

Looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you, what's not to love?

Don't have much to say about him sadly

Though his eyebrows gave me a LOT of issues. I like his stripes though! Seemed like the guy to have freckles like when peeps give him pencil sketch lines in this object form, what do ya'll think about the warm brown eyes though? Wanted to make him seem welcoming but idk.

(Bonus: paperclip earing!)

Gosh, I'm too tired for this rn, I'll elaborate on the designs another time

OH!

And happy new year!

And happy Chinese new year!

[t00tsmcgee]

Rook as a companion fic, scene excerpt: Spite learns how to paint

Scene written with my Rook Calais as the eight companion. Read more about him here!

Scene is a takeout of a larger Rookanis fic that I'm writing so this is a bit of an experiment. If this does well I'll post a few more scenes on here!

-

Cal was a few minutes into his painting exercise when the door of the pantry opened and a sleepy Lucanis came out. “Oh, hello. You’re back already.” he said, surprised. “Yeah.” Cal said, a little short. Lucanis frowned, cocked his head, but didn’t inquire further, walking over to the kitchen counter for coffee first. Of course. “Here, looks like you need it.” he said, coming over after finishing brewing coffee for both of them and putting the cup next to Cal. Cal couldn’t hold on to his anger in the face of such a kind gesture, smiling gratefully at Lucanis. “Thank you, Lucanis.” “You’re welcome.” Lucanis smiled and took a seat on the table next to Cal. “I thought painting was supposed to be relaxing.” he pointed vaguely at Cal’s tense frown. “Usually it is. Today I’m just trying to keep the demons at bay.” Cal sighed, deflating a little. “What?” Spite chimed in. “I’m not doing anything!” Cal chuckled. “Sorry, Spite, I didn’t mean you. I more meant my personal demons. Bad thoughts.” “What bad thoughts?” Lucanis asked. “Did you not have fun last night with Emmrich?” “Oh no, it was great. I had a lovely time.” Cal said. “Perhaps too lovely.” “Talk to me.” Lucanis said, openly looking at Cal.

“Everything was perfect, Lucanis. Exactly as it should be. But I ruined it with my feelings.” Cal sighed. “Emmrich was very clear on the arrangement. It was going to be one night only.” “Right. But.. you felt different.” Lucanis said. “I foolishly thought we had something special. He and I always talk so easily, make each other laugh, understand each other in a way no one else does.” Cal sighed. “And I guess I was dumb enough to think maybe he felt like that too. So when we got back this morning I asked him if he really was set on it being a one time thing. That I was open to it being more than that.” he took a sip of his coffee, letting the hot liquid settle his nerves a bit. “And he rejected you.” Lucanis concluded. There was a little contempt in his frown, but it quickly disappeared. “I’m sorry.” “Thank you. I suppose it’s my own stupid fault though.” Cal said. “I knew the terms.” “Don’t be so hard on yourself. What you said is true, you and Emmrich are usually like butter and toast. I can’t begin to guess why he would reject you, but I know that what you feel isn’t stupid.” Lucanis assured him with a gentle smile. “Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be.” “I guess. But the rejection hurt more than I like to admit. It made me feel.. small. Like I wasn’t enough. That’s why I’m here, painting the feelings out. That’s why I was frowning so hard.” Cal smiled sadly. “It’s hard to feel useless when you’re creating something.”

Lucanis looked a little lost on what to say, but Spite had a word of wisdom as usual. “Useless? No, never useless! Create in spite of what he said. Prove your worth. But you are already enough. Like pennies in a jar.” Cal laughed a little. “Thanks Spite.” “He has such a way with words.” Lucanis smiled when he saw Cal smile as well. “He’s right though. You’re never useless. Always enough. You bring joy with your presence, your smile.” “Thank you. Both of you.” Cal smiled warmly. “I really appreciate the support. I’ll be fine. Just need to get over myself for a bit.” “And painting helps?” Lucanis asked. “It does. It’s calming. I like the feeling of the brush on the canvas, thinking of what colours to use and mix, plan out a painting step by step.” Cal explained. “You can try, if you want?” “Yes, try!” Spite was clearly excited. “Sure, why not?” Lucanis said, indulging him. “I should warn you though, I don’t have an inch of artistic talent.” “It’s not about talent, or about what you make. Its about expression. As long as you’re conveying what you’re feeling, it doesn’t matter how ‘good’ it is. If its worth doing, then its worth doing badly, too.” Cal smiled, Lucanis surprised by that little bit of wisdom at the end. “I suppose you’re right.” he said. “Well, I suppose it can’t hurt to try.” “What do you want to paint, you think?” Cal asked. “You.” Lucanis said, honestly. “How I see you. Well, I mean, I’ll try.” “Oh, okay.” Cal said. “Then I’ll paint you, if that’s alright?” “Yours will be better.” Lucanis smirked. “But it’s the thought that counts right?” “It is.” Cal agreed. “Can Spite use objects in his latent shape?” “Yes, I can if you are near! I want to paint too!” Spite proclaimed with his usual smirk. “Hold on, I’ll get you set up.” Cal said, grabbing a canvas and putting it on the table for Spite to use. He put his older brushes there for him, the ones that wouldn’t suffer much for a bit of abuse, the hairs already starting to split. “There you go. Just dip your brush in water first before you grab paint.” he said, Spite eager to do so. It must have looked strange for anyone walking in, Cal and Lucanis painting, and a third canvas being assaulted by a floating brush. But Cal actually found a sense of peace in it, and the bad thoughts left him as he kept looking at Lucanis’ face for reference. The portrait was turning out quite nicely, and he couldn’t help but feel curious as to how Lucanis’ painting was going. Lucanis kept looking at him too, Cal smiling whenever their eyes met. There was something to it, he found, feeling the stirrings of something beneath the surface at Lucanis’ slow smile. Or was that just because he was still emotional from this morning? He probably couldn’t really trust his own feelings right now, but it was nice to take his mind off of this with someone he liked and trusted. Even Spite seemed to be having a good time, happily painting away. At first the strokes were big and aggressive but he seemed to hone in now, scribbling with a smaller brush. “What are you painting, Spite?” Cal said, seeing him so focused on his canvas. “Home.” Spite said, and the longing in his voice was clear. “Can I see?” Cal asked. “If you want, yes.” Spite said. He still seemed a little awkward but Cal was glad for the trust that was clearly returning after their earlier mishap. He came over to look at Spite’s painting, surprised to see how well he’d managed to represent the fade with colours and shapes, even if they were more abstract than how a humanoid would have done. “Spite, that’s beautiful.” Cal said, taking in the painting. Lucanis joined him, curious to see it as well. He seemed surprised, eyebrows rising. “I had no idea he could do this.” “I love the colours you used, very expressive.” Cal smiled when he saw Spite’s giddy grin. “I like painting!” Spite proclaimed with enthusiasm. “Giving shapes and colours to feelings and thoughts!” he wiggled excitedly. “I want to paint more!”

“Of course, here I have another canvas you can use.” Cal said, giving it to Spite, who was as happy as a child with a new toy. “I’ve never seen him like this.” Lucanis said, almost in awe as they returned to their own canvasses. “He’s so happy, so calm.” “We all need a hobby to express ourself.” Cal smiled. “Even spirits.”

“I wonder what he did before to express himself.” Lucanis said. “Can I see how you’re doing?” “Sure. It’s not finished by a long shot, though.” Cal said, standing aside to show Lucanis his painting. Lucanis took it in with a quiet look, smiling when he looked at Cal again after. “You’re very talented.” “Nah, I just practised a lot.” Cal said. “And you don’t even have a face yet.” “But I can already see it’s going to be me. The shapes, the stance, the essence is already there.” Lucanis said. “It’s going to be beautiful, I can tell.” “Thank you.” Cal smiled, flattered. “Can I see yours?” “No.” Lucanis said, quickly. “It’s.. nowhere near as good as yours. I am.. a little ashamed.” he admitted. Cal chuckled. “How many times have you painted in your life?” “The last time I painted was as a young boy.” Lucanis said. "It was with fingerpaint, and me and Illario started a war with it instead of painting our canvasses."

“Right, and I've painted every day, since I was four years old. So don’t put that pressure on yourself. Just have a good time.” Cal smiled. “Comparison is the thief of joy.” “You are just full of wisdom today.” Lucanis said, smiling.

Cal focused on his own painting for a bit, seeing Lucanis do the same, but he gradually seemed to smile wider, Cal curiously looking over. “What is it?” “It’s a mess. I don’t think I can salvage this.” Lucanis gave in. “It’s like a child made it.” “You’re too hard on yourself.” Cal said. “No, it’s fine. I’m just going to have to accept that I’m not an artist.” Lucanis sighed with acceptance. “I tried.” “Come on, just let me see.” Cal said, Lucanis stepping aside to let him look. Cal didn’t want to laugh, but he had a hard time keeping his grin contained when he saw what Lucanis had made. There was something of a face there, he had to give him that. The colours were unmixed, primary only, so his skin was red, his eyes blue and his hair yellow, a little orange where it touched his skin and making it look like spaghetti. He put his hand in front of his mouth to hide his smirk. “This..” he said, taking the canvas and presenting it to Lucanis formally, holding it in front of his chest. “Is modern art.” he saw Lucanis start to grin, finally breaking his own composure and laughing as well. Their joined laughter filled the kitchen, Cal having to wipe a little tear once they calmed down.

“It really is a disaster, isn’t it?” Lucanis sighed, chuckling and shaking his head. “No, no, it’s not a disaster.” Cal said, hiccuping. “I can see the shapes. That’s definitely a face. Everything is kind of in the right place, too.” “You’re being kind.” Lucanis said. “It’s ugly.” “It makes me smile.” Cal said. “And I love it for that.”

“You’re sweet.” Lucanis said, his eyes warm. “But I think painting is definitely your thing. Not mine.” he gave Cal the canvas he’d been working on. “Here, a gift. If it makes you happy, you should keep it.” “I will. I’ll look at it every day and remind myself that this is how you see me.” Cal smiled.

“Well, don’t do that.” Lucanis chuckled. “I didn’t even get your hair colour right. I don’t know why I didn’t just use white.” he subconsciously touched Cal’s hair, Cal looking at him with surprise at the familiarity. Lucanis seemed to realize his mistake after a moment or two, taking his hand back to himself. “Forgive me.” he mumbled. Cal smiled when he saw Lucanis fumble slightly.

“You’re okay.” he said. “Do you want to try again? The painting I mean.”

[my-owl-baby]

Goodbye Now

Masterlist

You and Satoru Gojo have been friends since birth by your parents being close friends. They thought two special children should be friends.

You both didn't get along. You teased him for being cocky and annoying, and he hated your guts for making fun of him for being the six eyes. He is special, but you were powerful. You just didn't know it.

"Satoru!!!" You yelled, running up to him, giving him a hug. He tried pushing you off him, but no use.

"What do you want, Y/n?" he said, annoyed by your presence already. You only smile, letting go to hold his hand.

"Let's go, I want to show you something," you smiled, pulling him somewhere before he had a chance to speak up his own mind.

"Y/n, we have to go. I don't think it's safe," he mumbled, your hands still connected to each other.

You hummed, not listening to him, only pulling him closer to you as the both of you made your way to the woods. It was bright out to be worried about being kidnapped or killed.

"There's a pond, you might like it." You turned to him, giving him a smile. You always made him feel so warm inside, maybe because you were close to him.

Of course, he thought of you of his best friend, his only friend since birth. He always cared about you but didn't show it since he thought being special meant not to show you weaker than others.

You both made it to the lake, Lilly pads on the pond and lotus flowers. "Isn't beautiful," you mumble, sitting down. He followed your movements.

"Yea, I guess," he mumbled, looking at the small pond in front of him. You both stayed silent for awhile hands still connected.

You finally spoke up, "Satoru...I'm leaving for a while." You mumble, you didn't dare to look at him.

He was surprised by the new heart broken by it as well. His one and only friend wasn't going to be there to annoy him anymore.

"W-why?" He tried to keep cool, looking at you, but you didn't face him.

"My parents want me to move overseas for my training and lessons for now on." You continue on explaining why you were leaving, the exact word by word your parents told you.

Satoru couldn't believe it. Even as you were speaking of it, he didn't want to know even more. "Stop it," he snapped at you, more harsher than he intended.

You stayed quiet, of course, looking at Satoru this time. "I'm sorry..." He mumbles only enough for you to hear only him.

"Don't be, I understand." There was another silence after that a long one. Satoru knew whatever he did. She'd have to go away either way.

"Do you know when you're coming back?" He asked. You only shrugged, causing him to groan. Of course you didn't know.

The two of you got back from pond to your place. You hang out for the rest of the night all throughout the days you had left before you had to go.

"Strawberry orrrrrrrrr-" Satoru cut you off, looking at you with an annoyed look.

"Shut up, I'll take chocolate," he said to the ice cream man. You only giggle at this reaction.

Today, the day you leave at nightfall, leaving Satoru alone at the age of 10 ten years, you both knew each other.

And now being separated for longer than ever. "You talk too much," he mumbled, handing your ice cream.

"Come on, don't be that way," you said, sitting down near a park bench. He sat close to you but not close enough.

"It's my last day, and you're being rude." he shrugged, not bothering to knowledge his actions.

"So, you're annoying," you only chuckled.

"Do you know the school name?" He mumbled through eating his ice cream. You hummed as you ate your ice cream.

"True cross academy," you said as you ate your ice cream. It was too good rare when you both got sweets with both your parents being strict on your diet.

Gojo only hummed at the answer. He'll ask about it to his parents later. "Make sure to always send me emails!" He mentioned pointing his finger at you.

You looked at him with surprised by this action. Only causing you to smile at the white-haired boy.

"Of course, I won't forget too!" He only nodded, going back to eat his own ice cream before it melted.

Now the both of you stand near the gates to your plane. "Promise to send emails," he mumble, you only smiled before giving him a hug unexpected to him.

Satoru never enjoyed your hugs, but he couldn't complain about this one. It might be the last one he'll ever get from you.

He hugged you back, holding you close to him, "I'll miss you, idiot." You only giggled at his words before you spoke up.

"I'll miss you more, Satoru," he only responded with hugging you tighter than he could.

"Flight, gate 12 to Korea now set to take flight," the announcer said through the mic. Signal you both to let go, Satoru held hid tears back.

"Goodbye, Satoru," you mumble, giving him one more hug before running off to the gates where your parents wait for you to say their goodbye to you.

[nuttersincorporated]

Tumblr: A Beginners Guide

Hello and welcome to Tumblr!

If you're new here, this post is a little guide meant to help you understand how things work on Tumblr. I’m going to give you some guidelines and explain a little bit about Tumblr culture. Hopefully, this will help you settle in, avoid unnecessary pitfalls and enjoy your time here. I hope you’ll like it here on our hellsite (affectionate).

1. First and most importantly, please change your userpic and put something on your blog.

If you don’t, other users will think you're a bot and you'll be reported/blocked. It’s nothing personal but we are at war with the bot accounts. Most older users will automatically assume that a blank blog= bot.

You don’t need to do much. If you aren’t comfortable rebloging things or making your own posts yet, just change your userpic and add a short description to your blog.

Here’s an example of a description you can use.

‘Hi! I’m new here. I’m still working out how this place works but I promise I’m not a bot so please don’t block me.’

2. Go to your settings, then to your dashboard settings and change things to how you like them. I suggest-

Make Tumber show you posts in chronologically order, rather than pushing ‘best stuff first’

Pick a colour palate that doesn’t give you a headache

Make Tumblr show timestamps on posts and reblogs. While a post is never too old to reblog, you don’t want to accidentally signal boost something as ‘news’ when it's acutely years out of date and no longer relevant.

Choose not to shorten long posts

3. Go to the top of your dashboard, press on the toggle and arrange things how you like them.

I suggest pinning your ‘Following’ first. It means that when you go to your dashboard, the first thing you’ll see are the blogs that you’ve actively chosen to follow.

Some older users will tell you that the ‘For You’ page is useless and should be ignore. This is because for a long time it was either non-existent or terrible so most older users – myself included – just don’t bother with it.

However, nowadays it’s fine so use it if you want. ‘Following’ should still probably be pinned first though because you know what you like better than the algorithm.

4. Please don’t censor your words here. Tumblr doesn’t shadow ban you for saying random words.

Shadow banning does happen but it’s mostly at random or because you were targeted by trolls. If it happens to you, you’ll need to fight to get unshadow banned.

The point is that you won’t get shadow banned for saying ‘death,’ ‘murder’ or ‘rape.’ Don’t do things like saying ‘graped’ instead of ‘raped.’ If you do, you’re just going to piss people off and make it harder for people to avoid triggers.

5. Don’t spam the tags!

You can ramble in the tags all you want and nobody will mind. However, if you tag an unrelated post with a popular tag, you will be reported for spamming. It’s against the Tumblr terms and conditions, it’s annoying and it’s something the porn bots do.

6. Please, reblog things. It helps posts spread a lot more than liking them does. Think of your blog as a scrap book where you put stuff you like.

If you aren’t comfortable adding to a post, that’s fine. Just reblog it and share it with others.

7. That said, Tumblr posts are collaborative and we like it when you add to them. It doesn’t have to be much. You don’t have to add something every time you reblog a post but it is a part of the fun to do it sometimes.

If it’s an art or fanfic post comments like; ‘good post op,’ ‘I LOVE THIS!’ or even ‘OUCH my heart!!!’ will make an OP’s day.

If it’s another sort of post; you can add your thoughts or join in on committing to the bit. Try matching the energy the post is already giving.

8. The follow and block buttons are your friend. You decide what you see here. If your dashboard doesn’t spark joy, you can always follow someone new and/or follow an interesting tag. If someone is making your time here unpleasant unfollow and/or block them.

9. Tumblr likes to commit to the bit. Sharks are smooth (they are not) and the 1973 Martin Scorsese movie ‘Goncharov’ is the greatest film ever made (it doesn’t exist).

10. A post is never too old to reblog. We like old posts here.

Every now and again, you will see a post that is over ten years old. The reblogs will probably be full of people expressing delight about seeing the original post again or seeing it for the first time.

11. You don’t want to be Tumblr famous.

There are niche blogs that are dedicated to one thing and are well liked e.g. @the-haiku-bot (the one bot we love), @writing-prompt-s and @cantheykillmacbeth. However, they are either side blogs or blogs run by multiple people.

Your main blog should just be somewhere you like to spend your time. There are no benefits to being Tumblr famous on your main blog.

12. Tumblr spreads news with this meme

13. Tumblr loves dates. Whether it’s the Ides of March (it sure would be a shame if certain world leaders got stabbed), Halloween (which we start celebrating in about July) or just a random day of the week e.g. ‘Out of Touch Thursday’ there is always something happening that you can celebrate.

14. The staff always pulls a silly and harmless prank on Apil Fools Day. Last year we got to boop each other.

15. We like a silly poll

Okay, I think that’s the basics covered. You’ll get the hang of everything else as you go along.

I hope you have fun here and that you manage to avoid Apollo’s dodgeball of prophecy (try not to joke about a specific way things could get worse or you might be hit).

Yours faithfully,

A Tumblr Cockroach

[paintedcrows]

Nooo little Stanley watch out! Your striped shirt, bandage, and sad backstory are too Fallen Human Coded!! The Undertale narrative is going to get you!!!

[necrotic-nephilim]

i personally have very complicated feelings on the Gotham Knights video game and the routes it takes with characterization. i think it has a charm to it and it goes in an interesting direction with everyone (especially within the confides of the plot of the game) but it does have certain moments that veer painfully fanon for me. (such as: the dialogue where Tim drinks too much coffee) it's an interesting story for what it is but i don't view it comics-based for characterization and therefore don't care to interact with it much for like. fanfic purposes.

that *said* though. i do have to give the game some kind of credit for giving one of the top five JayTim moments that lives rent free in my mind. every since i played the game, the cutscene lives in my mind daily. it's the specific cutscene where Jason and Tim are arguing about whether or not Jason's non-lethal bullets are too dangerous for the field, and the argument leads to TIm *standing in front of the target* Jason is shooting and telling Jason to shoot him. it lives rent free for me. i never stop thinking about this.

the absolute certainty Tim has that he is in no danger standing in front of Jason, who has a loaded gun pointed at his face. the way Jason *hesitates* for just a moment before lowering the gun. he thinks about it for just a second. Gotham Knights JayTim seem to get along very well and can rely on each other, but Jason still clearly holds a bitterness about his death and Tim that flickers through in some lines of dialogue under the guise of jokes. especially since this game deals *heavily* with concepts of Pit Madness causing an altered state of consciousness, i think it's believable that occasionally, Jason fights the urge to fight and hurt Tim for the feeling of being replaced.

i like their tension so much in this canon. they get along but you can *tell* Tim is afraid of addressing Jason's trauma or even addressing Jason head-on, and Jason leans into spooking Tim about it. which isn't very comics feeling in their dynamic, but it is an interesting way to place their dynamic if you're playing with a more timid Tim who's newer to the role of Robin. (which he seems to be in-game) he really doesn't want to offend Jason, or worse, piss him off. but he'll still face Jason head on for things like this, while completely aware of what Jason could be capable of.

and Jason seems very protective of Tim and respecting Tim as a Robin in typical Jason fashion. if Tim pushes, Jason *will* relent. he knows this is a kid who's proved himself and should be treated with equal respect, sometimes even more than Dick and Babs do in-game.

so for all that to culminate in Tim stepping in front of Jason's loaded gun that he *knows* is on the edge of being too dangerous, just to force Jason to listen? it's the most unhinged way Tim could've gotten his point across in this scene. he was literally daring Jason to hurt him and playing with a very dangerous fire. but he did it anyway bc he believed he could make Jason heel just at the thought of hurting Tim. and he was *right*. they're gay and i'm feral ty.

[puppppppppy]

its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously

[hellofastudysession]

am i rlly going to write a death note literary analysis when i could be doing other things

about the discourse going on in the tag abt "death note is acab and thats why the characters couldnt better the world with the note (/written in somewhat jokey matter)" vs "death note is trying to say we all have potential for evil, especially if you get a chance to insta-hurt ppl without repercussions, and it doesnt matter if youre a cop or not", i personally feel like it ignores the things that i like abt death note, which is "both of these things are true", and simultaneously "both of these things do not matter". the first part of this is dedicated to the first point, the latter to the last.

first point. i think its an important part of the message and themes (unintentional or not, and i lean on the former because... come on, can you really say the author intended you to not think of the cops as good people, at least compared to light and l) that light is a cops son, and that almost everyone who gets the death note is cop adjacent/thinks like a cop and is already corrupt/powerful when they get it (mello raised to think hed be just like l, yotsuba group is self explanatory; you cannot look me in the eyes and tell me teru "churchill" mikami, who was hand selected by light out of a bunch of rabid kira supporters, is a normal citizen). i appreciated the cop post bc its rlly important to not gloss over that aspect.

all of this would be an argument for "only someone like them would do something like this, and i am not like them, so im above them and immune to thinking about what id do with it", but... misa is the MOST important outlier in all of this bc her murders are solely selfish in nature and shes not doing any of this for "the greater good"!!! her nature of being an exception and still a very very bad person is really really important...

or it would be if death note gave a shit about her character at all!!! im not talking about her tragic side, im talking about exploring the ramifications of her killing people the way lights murders are (somewhat) explored. that would strengthen the message greatly! but shes dismissed and that weakens it overall. firstly, she's dismissed by the characters when l only sees her as a way to get to kira and basically shelves her the rest of the time. secondly, shes dismissed by the narrative when her character is gradually ground down to a stump and (not to sound perilously close to the bad takes ppl meme about) she never faces repercussions for her actions. every other character using the death note is treated relatively seriously, but misa just dies bc her love is dead. im not saying this isnt a... fitting punishment or that it isnt in character, but it doesnt fit snugly into the theme other people are talking about of "you reap what you sow" at all.

we do have something of an equivalent to misa's grayscale motives. surprise surprise, its light yagami. first is light's characterization in the musical (i will also note that misa never kills anyone in the musical). light's thinking is coplike, yes — he literally starts his first song by talking about "throw[ing] away the key" — but also, oddly enough, could be read as progressive and therefore sympathetic to tumblr ("let the corporations make the regulations / and hold no one accountable when everything gets wrong / let the rich and famous get away with murder / every time a high-priced mouthpiece starts to talk, his client gets to walk"). compare to the anime and manga, where his bigotry and pride and disgust come from a place of lukewarm dissatisfaction and boredom. the musical has much less time to play around with lights character, so it gives the audience something to immediately hook on. more on how that actually plays out later.

in the animanga, none of this is justified from the start. animanga light could say he was just killing people to make humanity way, way worse, and that wouldnt matter, because at the root of it, it was always his boredom that made him pick up the note. of course he actually believes in justice and believes hes doing the right thing (no, he believes he's doing the wrong thing, for the sake of the world... the right thing, because he is god...), but it was boredom at the start. all animanga light says about justice and righteousness and the law is a front in the end, bc he is exactly like l and misa — amoral. selfish. searching for entertainment. hedonistic. we know this. he kills naomi misora*. he kills lind l. turner. everything hes saying deserves to be dismissed from the beginning.

"but doesnt that mean you agree with the discourse post you wrote this post to argue against?" like i said, i agree with both of them! but i... still think its not right to reduce death note to the message of "the power to kill people is bad". because that is not exactly what the story is saying, even though that's literally its whole plot and therefore reaching that conclusion is self explanatory (lmao). let's look at the concept of mu. nothingness. "there's no heaven or hell". The Real Slay The Princess (Death Note Essay) Starts Here.

in light's final moments in the death note manga, while screaming about not wanting to die, he remembers that the first day they met, ryuk told light that "there's no heaven or hell. no matter what they do in life, all people go to the same place. all humans are equal in death". it is retroactively revealed that light knew this the whole time, operated under this knowledge for all the years we watched him — the knowledge that nothing he does is actually bad, that nothing any human does is actually bad, that shinigami are not "evil", that the universe does not care. that no one cares except humans. this oblivion absolutely terrifies him more than anything anyone could ever do to him. its what he thinks of before anything else as he flails there, screaming, dying. one could say everything he does after that day is him trying to escape that fact, or wrest control over it. but it doesnt work.

here are the lyrics of requiem, the musical's final song, sung over the bodies of l and musical light, a light who was at least somewhat good-intentioned at first: "sleep now, here among your choices / then fade away / hear how the world rejoices / shades of gray / gone who was right or wrong / who was weak or strong / nothing left to learn". this is the final message the death note musical and the manga chose to leave us with. there is no judgement. even after all that acknowledged hurt, after all the damage done, there is no judgement.

in the manga and anime alike, the world is just as fucked when light picks up the death note as when he dies. sure, we as readers can guess otherwise logically (and be optimistic, believing the world was never fucked regardless), but that's not what death note wants you to think. it ends with matsuda and another member of the task force noting how the world is worse again even though they killed kira (matsuda is clearly much worse for wear, but still determined), we see the shitty motorcycle band again, it ends with misa and a whole kira cult on a mountain even though kira died a long time ago...

its extremely important that light is never killed by any human or any aspect of the law. he is always killed by ryuk: a chaotic force completely detached from human sensibilities, one that does not care about good and evil. same with l; in the anime, manga, and musical, he is always killed by rems senseless, morally gray love (and you could argue in the kdrama that hes killed by love there too lol). justice is just a set dressing.

this is not just because death note is a tragedy, because good and evil can still matter in a tragedy. the theme of "nothingness" and "good and evil doesnt matter here" is also shown in a situation relatively unrelated to light winning or losing, or being good or bad. and its in fucking lawlight of all things. we all know ls not a good person. we know lights not a good person. this is tip of the iceberg death note knowledge. but the moment they start to interact, none of that starts to matter. textually, their relationship becomes more important than the people theyve killed and hurt. and the thing is? the thing is? THAT WORKS STORY-WISE. THAT'S ENTERTAINING. AND IT'S NEVER TEXTUALLY CALLED OUT IN A LASTING WAY. l and lights relationship, no matter how much i meme it, is genuinely important to the themes and "mu" because it makes it clear that despite all the pretensions, despite everything, this was never about good and evil. and it still works in the story. this is why death note is simultaneously a comedy — isn't the battle of good and evil supposed to matter more? well, fine, i'll keep watching this anyway. that suspension of disbelief comes crashing down the moment l dies, though, and a relationship built on nothingness (the "mu" sort, meaninglessness, not "character development" nothingness, theres plenty of character development) gives way to just nothingness (again, "mu", not light's post-l depression nothingness), forever.

(an aside: there is no one to root for in death note, and the only things to root for are either interesting character relationships, convoluted plots, or complete and total destruction: for everything to end so no more damage is done.)

not to say that death note does not encourage its readers to consider what damage they might do with the death note (obviously.), or that its characters never do. look at matsuda, a much easier heroic figure to latch on to than soichiro because of his unique place in the cast dynamic and because he's willing to consider both sides of the situation and kill light instantly for all he's done. its just that the story's own stance on the subject is... complicated by the existence of shinigami worldviews and by its own insistence that the world cannot change for the better.

also, this is not to say that this is executed well by the death note manga at all. it is a very strong tool, artistically, to establish and then violently remove any emotional connections between characters and make your story only about the exceedingly convoluted lengths characters go to to survive and catch each other so the reader can realize how ultimately pointless all of this is, but like... is that a good story choice if that's all you do? i would say not really. add in a good dollop of misogyny that destroys the second-to-last character who might actually be an interesting contrast to the rest of the cast's dull one-track focus on winning and justice, and youve got yourself a shitty story that... honestly still achieves what it went out to do, just not in a way id ever want to replicate.

anyway, back to the parts death note's actually trying to say. no matter what any human does in their life, no matter how they try to hurt or help the world, they all die in the end. hey, light, they all die in the end. once dead, they can never come back to life. and the seasons turn. and the world rejoices. and you say "goodbye"...

that's all.

no analysis of death notes overarching theme would be complete without nears final monologue, the definitive roast of light, the "you're just a murderer" speech: "what is right from wrong? what is good from evil? nobody can truly distinguish between them. even if there is a god." if we take this as talking about the actual god in the room (ryuk) as well as light, then near admits that humans will never be able to withstand these overwhelming forces and that, using justice and happiness and selfishness, they are just scrabbling to find meaning in things they ultimately have no control over.

but of course, near does not stop there. "[...] even then i'd stop and think for myself. i'd decide for myself whether his teachings are right and wrong." nears alright with not having control over everything, because near can still control nears own actions. these forces can and do exist, but they have no sway over nears own humanity — unlike light, who caved.

one of the creators of death note said they believe its message is "life is short, so everyone should do their best". the first time i learned this, i was like, thats... nice and optimistic, but an awful reading of the story! "life is short, so everyone should be desperate and striving like light yagami", who literally cut off other ppls lives for his own life? what character in death note are we supposed to strive towards when we "do our best"? they all do awful things with their lives! honestly, maybe they shouldnt have tried their best, if this is what their best is!

but with the view of "mu"... it makes a bit more sense. just a little. maybe.

there is no good and evil. there is only what humans think, and no matter what we do, we all die in the end. it is easy to be crushed and terrified by this in the same way light is, but what is more important than justice and righteousness and finding meaning is... doing your best. not being a person that hurts others too much. not letting yourself get swallowed up by an ideal. not going too far. and simultaneously, trusting yourself.

it leaves a few questions, though... was the currently dead l even a little bit right about his blatantly amoral approach, then? was there a point to this pain, and me slogging through this dumbass manga, and all the people that have lost their lives to a selfish teenage cop's son and the whims of everyone chasing after him? was there a point to any of this...?

the manga** never answers this. it stays clinically impartial until the very end. the musical is anything but clinically impartial (and i love it so much for that), and its ryuk that has the last word.

"there's no point at all."

of course theres no point. none of this was ever supposed to happen. that is what matters more than all the hurt and the crimes and the pain.

and that's... actually okay, because it's over now.

yes, death note has many really important themes present in its story, but its viewpoint is nihilism first and foremost. thats why its so fun and easy to play around with all the other messages, because no matter what fun or torment or awful things or righteous justice or absolute nothingness or sentimentality happens in between, there is always an end.

there is always the end.

[fellamarsh]

another thing i've been trying to do recently is read more self-published stuff. "but fell," you say, "you're a self-published author. surely you've been reading self-published stuff all along" and then i laugh for so long in response we both become uncomfortable.

see, the fear (which has for a long time been killing my mind) that i'll read other self-published stuff and find out that it's so much better than mine that i might as well stop writing forever kept me from doing that basically ever. i have a hard time not unfavorably comparing my work to others and had convinced myself i was being smart by withholding an avenue of de-motivation (reader: i was not being smart). it also doesn't help that i'm pretty low income and have a hard time spending money on books i haven't already read, and that self-published stuff isn't always available at the library---but really a lot of it was just me being a coward. which i'm working on. i could talk about how this particular cowardice is Very Silly, but i think enough has been said about it on writeblr and in the Writing Space in general that i don't feel the need to (though i will if anyone wants me to).

instead, i wanna talk about the self-published things i have read in the past few months and ask about the self-published things you love!

so: what happened was i got real sick, and while i was real sick i (naturally) read over 200,000 words of ace attorney fan fiction in the span of a few days. eventually i got bored of it (and also maybe annoyed at how people were characterizing some of my guys), but i still wanted to read something gay and romantic and nice, something i knew was gonna end happily, which isn't my typical fare.

now you may be saying (having gotten over all the uncomfortable laughter from earlier) "fell, you write gay romance. what do you mean that's not your typical fare?" listen. until a couple months ago i hadn't read a cut and dry romance novel since before i finished college. for context: i graduated in 2015. i know it doesn't make sense. i'm a guy who doesn't make sense.

but in this case it worked to my advantage. not the not making sense thing, but the not having read Published Romance in 1000 years thing. I didn't know where to start. I was very skeptical of everything the library had Available Now in the Gay Fantasy Romance category. what if it was all bad and also not good?

and then i scrolled past the familiar cover of our very own @ashen-crest's A Rival Most Vial.

now this was comfortable territory! this was a novel by a very nice writeblr person whose posts i enjoy! i already loosely knew the plot, i was familiar with the characters, i knew the names of things like rosemond street and the griffin's claw and that ambrose had blue hair and that at the end of it all there would definitely be Boyfriends. i didn't have to worry that this would be bad! i only had to worry that it would be really good!

but i wasn't worried about that, because i was officially Not Writing at the time, and because why the hell hadn't i read this book yet Ash literally emailed me some very kind words last year when my cat died??

Y'all, I devoured ARMV. If you haven't read it yet---especially if cozy fantasy is more your thing than it is mine---you should check it out Immediately. It was fun! It was heartwarming! It was sweet and earnest and confident! I was delighted to find it was occasionally hot! Ambrose and Eli snuggled up into my sick exhausted heart and found a permanent little place there. (Especially Ambrose. I have such a thing for Stiff Guys who Kind of Suck for Tragic Backstory Reasons and are So So Lonely They Don't Even Realize It. gawd)

(And a very small part of my brain spent the whole time wondering why I had been so afraid to really engage with the work my community is doing. The community that I'm in. The one I'm a part of. Why?! Maybe more on that later.)

But from there the curse was broken! I immediately devoured @stjohnstarling's What Manner of Man in a similar sort of frenzy (and hooooly shit guys am I excited for the expanded, finalized version to come out at the end of next month!) and started digging into @lurinatftbn's The Flower that Bloomed Nowhere (which I can already tell is going to be an All Time Favorite).

And now I want to ask you what your favorite self-published books are so that I can read them, too, but I think I will in another post that doesn't dedicate so much space to talking about my various and sundry Issues and isn't Terminally Long

[tenwhiteandalusians]

so no one was going to tell me if i got literally one episode further tenax drops that he’s the one who saved scorpus from his mom’s pimp AND that he’s intimately familiar with scorpus’ dick when he was younger. guys. guys.

[starbuck]

If you feel the urge to take a red pen to a story, you are REACTING to the story which is the POINT!!!!!