#they actually had it very accurate. like sure it can be a little exaggerated but it’s definitely pretty close to actual volleyball

[sooouth]

i just finished the first season of haikyuu… i have a lot of feelings

[thot-writes]

[repost bc i messed up] i’ve noticed that despite the fact everyone makes jokes abt astarion being a bottom i’ve yet to see anyone actually write him like one… and like a bat signal in the sky…. i am here to save the day

sub!astarion (aka canon astarion) headcanons for the girlies and the babes (NSFW) (spoiler warning!);

Astarion appears to be a top-leaning switch. not necessarily out of preference, he likely performs sex differently depending on the partner, but more often than not is the one who has to do everything.

being with a dominant like yourself isn’t anything he hasn’t already done a thousand times before, but he must concede that sex with you has always felt somehow different. is it because you’re more skilled in the arts of intimacy than the vast majority of people he’s bedded, or simply because he had the choice in seducing you?

it could very well be both. you are a dominant of great talent, after all.

the first time you sleep together, it quickly becomes apparent what your intentions are and he readily submits to them. you toy with his body, cradle it, worship it while you ravish him. you can sense a performance from him, but that’s nothing you’re not used to— occasionally you’ve been with subs who think the louder they are the better the sex is. you’re accustomed to breaking past that wall.

astarion is no different.

he seems a little too eager, a little too excited by simple touches— you can tell he’s exaggerating. you want his real reactions.

you map every part of his body and take keen notes on parts of genuine arousal, his yelps of surprise, his deep sighs, his involuntary twitching.

it’s a challenge, and you doubt you’ve scratched the surface with him, but you accurately deduce some of his sensitive spots:

the points of his ears, his nipples, his collarbone.

it’s intriguing to you, how his most sensitive places are those that are far from the most obvious ones.

the first time you fuck, he cums with an intensity that he can’t remember having had before.

and all while you were going easy on him.

you sympathetically cringe at the thought of all the god-awful encounters he must’ve had with people before this, if one of your tamest nights was one of his best.

during your sexual encounters, you slowly notice more and more about his genuine enjoyments. but you notice one more thing too, one thing infinitely more important:

he’s unsure if he truly enjoys any of it at all.

he confesses to you his issues with sex, and like the good dom you are you cater to your sub’s— no, your partner’s — needs. it’s months before he’s ready to try again, but your patience is infinite for those you love.

once you resume your sex life, you start off tame again. tamer still than even your first night together, just to test the waters and make sure he’s comfortable.

astarion has learned to trust you in a way he’s never trusted anyone before, and likely won’t ever again. as the intensity begins to ramp up, he finds himself doing things with you that (given his backstory) he should probably balk at.

he lets you collar him, tease him, punish him, and occasionally even degrade him— because he knows it’s you. he knows you. there may not be many places where he’s safe, but by your side is a guarantee.

astarion is very vocal in bed. it starts out as dirty talk, but as he gets closer to cumming he talks less and moans more. whines more. pleads more. by the time he’s about to finish, he hasn’t said a word to you yet he’s told you everything you need to know.

whenever you go too far (which isn’t often), he pulls away a little. he’s not too good at using the safe word yet, but he’s improving. you know enough of his body, his mind, to know when he’s telling you to stop even if he’s not forming the words.

after every sexual encounter you have, without fail, you clean him up and rest with him. you cradle him in your arms and stroke your fingers through his perfect curls. you make sure that he’s okay with what you’ve just done, and reassure him that he can stop this at any time with no judgement.

it’s kind of annoying how nice you are to him, honestly. you’ve just given him a mind-blowing back-breaking orgasm, and you’re still coddling him? just how in the fuck is he supposed to pay you back for everything you do for him? he’s racking up one hells of a debt.

astarion has never had someone like you before, someone who seems to know him even better than he does. he loves that you’re patient and caring, that you’d give up sex entirely if he’d only ask, that he feels safe enough with you to relinquish control while knowing he still very much has it.

a submissive astarion is one that has reconciled — or has at least started the process of reconciling — with his past. one that has developed a trust so deep with his lover that he can feel comfortable with even the most scandalous of acts.

it will take time until he’s ready for the more aggressive side of being dominated, if he’ll ever be ready at all. but a soft dom is one he can very easily get taken from behind.

he knows that even though he submits to you, he’s the one being served.

[marchsfreakshow]

Gotta Dance! [Peter Maximoff]

Fluff//drabble

You like to dance to yourself to whatever cassette you had in your walkman, and when a silver haired friend of yours finds you, he decides to just have a bit of fun.

Omg okay I finished 3 xmen movies with Maximoff in em, and gah I understand why people love him now. Heres a fic.

I made it decently time accurate I think so tell me if there are any inaccuracies.

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Peter was always one to dance if he had a chance, especially to his own music taste. Classical or fancy music was always too slow.

So why on earth was he staring at you through a window? Watching you move around the empty hall, at 1am in the dark. Music in your headphones, blasting at a volume that could've burst anyone's eardrums. Yet, he couldn't tell the song playing in your ears. All he could tell was that he liked the way you moved. Swift movements, like an audience being danced around, walking around your footsteps. You were in your own mind, not particularly caring if anyone else was awake. If someone was, it was probably Charles, attempting some work.

A new pair of footsteps once you were done. Now, catching your breath, you were sat in one of the corners, admiring the hall around you. The rest of your music went on, and you didn't hear the steps until they stopped next to you. A hand pulling your headphones off your head. Your reaction was quick, and you grabbed his wrist tightly. "Hey! Calm, just noticed you were alone. That's all." That voice was so familiar to you. So close to your memory.

You let go of his wrist slowly but kept your eyes on the dark figure standing beside you. "What you are doing up at 1 in the morning then?" You questioned, trying to piece together a puzzle. The answer? Who was it smooth-talking their way into your tired mind? Then a glimmer of the moonlight hit mystery figure's hair. A silver shimmer. Of fucking course. Peter Maximoff. The one person who you particularly did not hope saw you dance just now.

"Fast body fast brain. Can never usually slow down enough to get enough sleep."

An eyebrow raised then crossed arms. "You sure about that Silver? Every time I go to talk to you, you're snoring the whole school down."

"Silver? Very creative."

"Silver Sliver. Like a silver snake who slivers around whenever he gets a chance." A cocky grin as you reminded Peter of why you nicknamed him 'silver sliver' a nickname always on the tip of your tongue. But also now ignoring the sneaky jab about how much he actually slept.

He hummed and nodded towards your own Walkman. "Who are you listening to?"

"This new singer I found called Taco. He's literally called Taco it's so funny." You rambled, rewinding it to the previous song and putting the headphones on him.

Puttin' On The Ritz.

It was smooth, almost buttery to you, but Maximoff simply stood there and nodded along. "Too slow for you Silver?" A chuckle escaped you, leaning your elbow on the radiator.

"Not at all." He grinned. Not that you could see how he grinned. But the way he spoke made you think he was planning something. Hands grabbing yours, pulling you away from your safe little corner. A groan was heard along with a small fit of giggles. What on earth had you dragged yourself into?

In the silence, the faint tune of the song was heard, and he started to dance, holding your hands, and whipping you around. Even in the musk of the night both of you held eye contact with each other, feeling oh so fancy with a song about The Ritz. What an odd feeling to have with your best friend. Sensing comfort when he held you close, exaggerating his steps, exaggerating his facial expressions even though you couldn't see them that well. That damn speedster.

Minutes went by fast. Both of you stood wherever as the new song could faintly be heard. "You're a good dancer." You noted with a smile, still holding hands and reluctant to let go.

"yeah. I think you're pretty good too." Cocky as ever. Feeling like he was on top of the world or something. "So..." Maximoff started, you hummed and tilted your head to the side slightly.

"Can I get you a drink or something?"

"...Sure." a little laugh. "Preferably when it's daytime."

A shared nod before the speedster brought you close again and danced with you.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tagging those who might enjoy this: @babygorewhore @silverzoomies @taintandviolent @slutforgarlogan @slvt4jamesmarch @coentinim @fear-is-truth

(other mutuals let me know if you would like a tag 💜)

[blu3haw4]

Hi, hello, remember when i posted a little fic two years ago called 'loved your parting gift (dead people are my favorite)' and then last year i talked about how that world lives in my mind rent free and how I've imagine that very cathartic scene of Lexa bleeding at Clarke's place and her calling Anya to watch Lexa while she feeds from countless people because the sent of Lexa's blood makes her incredibly thirsty? Do you remember?

Well i didn't write that scene (actually i did but it's not edited and I'm not sure i want it to be precisely like that so) instead I wrote a little night months after, a little look into their abettor-ship.

I feel like in the first installment it looks a little like these two are pretty serious, but in my head this fic is a little cracky. Like sure Lexa is Commander of the 12 clans full of werewolf packs (this isn't abo btw) sure she's the most powerful alpha of her people, sure she can control other alphas as though they were her beta's. But also she's just a girl. She's practically 21yo (210 in reality (215 actually, which makes Clarke want to celebrate her sweet (2)16's) but she's a wolf so its the same) and she just really likes this very pretty girl, mysterious and possibly incredibly dangerous but also just a girl who with all her power (and years on earth) is actually just chilling.

So here's that little night

For Clextober 2024, Idea 16 (already on ao3)

The Halloween Party

“A Halloween party? Seriously?” Lexa deadpanned.

“A custom party” Clarke clarified, covered excitement in her voice.

“Yeah, I got that part”

“Don’t sound so excited” She rolled her eyes.

“Of course I’m not excited Clarke, I’ve seen enough terrible representation of my kind? Don’t you hate those of yours?”

“Why would I?” Clarke laughed “few are exaggerated versions the fictional character created about us, and most are pretty simple and very accurate representation of how we really look like... humans with fangs and blood dripping down our mouths. And, by the way, I think the latest tv shows have done a pretty good job at representing your kind”

“When was the last time you saw a werewolf?” Lexa narrowed her eyes, she can’t remember the last time she saw a werewolf custom or tv show, but they were never flattering, and the few movies she knew about weren’t great either.

“I’m standing right in front of one!”

“Before that” Lexa rolled her eyes.

“Irrelevant, trirku, I’ve seen you fully and partially wolfed out as well as human size, you’ve got to admit they’re getting it right -finally”

“Trikru is not-“

“Your last name, I know, but you don’t have one, so suck it up” Clarke interrupts, with that sweet, little flirty tone she used to mock her -and to calm the bad guys she dried to feed- “You’re the one who rejected Woods”

“Because that’s just stupid-” before Clarke could jump with some retort again, she railed the conversation back “Why is it necessary? To go to this party?”

“Because!” Clarke rolled her eyes sighing, it had been an intense few months since they met, what started as just tense avoidance quickly turned into a series of unfortunate events that landed them on a weird abettor-ship. The vampire had to get used to sharing a city with a huge clan of werewolves’ packs, all the while making sure they weren’t sniffing around where they shouldn’t, whatever that’d be other super-natural creatures’ business or outright hunter houses. She hadn’t done the best job at it from afar, hence their fragile alliance.

“You said you wanted in on the majority of non-humans around here, this is your way of mingling”

“But why a Halloween party?”

“Because it’s fun! Because we hide every day, most have a lot more covering up to do than you and I. Halloween is the perfect opportunity to hide in plain sight, is the one occasion they get to be themselves around those they call friends without any judgment”

‘Do you have friends?’ Was the question in Lexa’s mind, but she kept it there, the line between professionalism and friendship or whatever with Clarke were blurry enough already. She’s made enough mistakes the past six months that led her down dangerous paths, she owed it to her clan to stay focused, to mend those mistakes, no matter how much she just wanted to get to know Clarke.

“You sure it’s a good idea?”

“Yes! For one you’ll get to do something fun, and two, how else will you know who’s pissed that you and your clan are here and who doesn’t give a shit?”

“Isn’t that the point of our agreement?”

“I agreed to help you, not do you binding” Clarke deadpanned “Look as far as I’m aware there hasn't been a pack around for about fifty years, most witches I know don’t care about you, but there’s plenty of vampires around who love to feed into our animosity. This party is your chance to check the field, some ghouls hide perfectly and won’t care that you pissed off hunters, there’s fairies though I’m sure would love to help them, there’s a variety of chimeras that-”

“Okay. I get it. Plenty of creature, perfect night, perfect chance”

“Exactly. Efficiency” Clarke winked at her.

With a sigh Lexa stood up “Fine, I’ll be here at seven”

“You better be in a nice custom!” Clarke called after her “You don’t want people to think you’re a boring ass human!” Lexa rolled her eyes yet started to plan her outfit for the following night.

She showed up at seven sharp, in simple black jeans and a white shirt, cut and styled to look worn, her hair braided and held by a bandanna at the top of her head, her make-up was exaggerated, all meat to portray a pirate. She thought she complied to Clarke’s petition, yet her hopes for a compliment fell when the Vampire opened the door.

“You didn’t come as a were?!”

“No! I am one!” She huffed.

“That’s the point!” Clarke chuckles turning around, in her plain fitting black dress, black high heels and… a cape. Because of course she was a vampire. “Such a wasted opportunity” she rolled her eyes, cheeky grin fangs out and all, clearly pleased with her own ‘custom’. Lexa felt a little silly, knowing she spent all day crafting hers.

“I mean don’t get me wrong-” Clarke cut her train of thought, looking her up and down, still grinning, licking her left fang -it was always the left one, same side where that beauty mark sat atop her lip- not that Lexa paid attention or anything. “This fit is… damn, hot as fuck, Trikru, you really leaned into it” And okay, Lexa wasn’t expecting that, so who could blame her if she blushed a little.

“Well, you… said to make it nice”

“It is nice… very nice” Clarke nodded, looking her up and down again as she kept licking that damn fang, how was Lexa supposed to focus on the mission. And okay, it wasn’t really a mission, but she was still supposed to focus on making connections not on… well. Clarke.

They left shortly after, and Lexa was informed on the way that this Halloween party was, actually, several parties. A few different parties they would go to through the night.

And so, they spend about an hour -and a half sometimes- at each party, Lexa meets all of Clarke’s contacts -all witches- and learns to recognize the faces of few vampires who don’t seem to like her. She asks how come they don’t approach them and seem to back away from Clarke, but she deflects, says she’s not sure and bets they’re just smart enough to not mess with Lexa. But she knows it can’t be just that, she doesn’t push it though, just hopes Clarke will trust her enough one day to tell her, after all their relationship at the moment pretty much consisted of exchanging information.

By midnight Lexa had a pretty clear idea of how most creatures felt about her and her clan, she met a few chimeras that lived with packs and seemed to hope that they’d protect them from the hunters, while lone ones kept their distance from her. Ghouls and fairies alike seem all over the place, some wanted to meet her, some seem scared of her, others just outright grossed by her presence. It gave her a good feeling of what she would be dealing with for the next few years of their stay.

So, with her mission accomplished, she finally listened to Clarke and agreed to have fun. With the elixirs provided by Clarke’s witches friends, the pair was able to enjoy the nice numbing of their drinks -not that Clarke wasn’t already a little drunk and high from the few humans she fed from.

Lexa learned over the course of the first two months after her arrival that Clarke had a method of feeding that didn’t involve drinking them dry, and didn’t even leave a mark. The watching had begun with Lexa following her after their first face-to-face encounter, feeling the need to check that Clarke’s victims were in fact the predators she claimed them to be.

That’s how she found her flirting with people at bars and promising a good time, offering them a vape and saying it had weed to cover up the later dizziness, taking them a out to a more private corner and making out with them, Clarke would kiss their necks, nibbling and licking to activate the sedative from her saliva and then biting them to drink from them, they would think she was leaving a hickey when in reality she was only drinking a little of their blood -the equivalent of two exam doses, she would later learn- before licking the wound to heal it close. She’d take them back inside and leave after a while.

Lexa had memorized the pattern, Clarke would drink from four different people per night, and she would skip three nights if she drank someone dry. She wasn’t sure if Clarke was aware of it, she had an idea that Clarke could scent her every time, but she had stopped following her after the first time they spoke. Falling to the conclusion -and promptly ignoring it- that her obsession with the habit had come from wanting to be a part of the rotation of… donors.

-It meant she didn’t realize when the pattern changed, after the night she bled at Clarke’s place, the vampire started to feed every night even if she dried someone, the number of doses per night increased and even some were taken during the day. Clarke didn’t tell her, afraid to accept the reason of her newfound insatiable thirst-

And so, she found herself at the last party mildly drunk, doing everything in her power to keep Clarke’s focus on her, because her inhibition was low and her instincts her directing her more than her conscious, and Clarke kept looking for humans to woo and drink from, not because she need it -or so Lexa thought- just because she wanted to, because she was having fun and she wasn’t -technically- hurting anybody. And Lexa didn’t really want to stop her, she just… wanted her to not kiss other people.

And Clarke kept telling her that she was no fun, that she should let loose and enjoy the night, and Lexa was really trying, but she didn’t know how to without completely exposing herself. Because even her wolf wanted Clarke to bite her, her big bad alpha soul wanted to be bitten, and how was Lexa really supposed to deny that.

So, she showed her she could be fun, she drank and danced with Clarke, and she did her best at flirting, and she noticed when Clarke noticed. She noticed when Clarke stopped looking around for humans, she noticed her flirting turning up from her natural, and she noticed how she danced differently with her. She noticed the way she wouldn’t stop licking her fangs and biting her lips.

She noticed she was breathing heavily “Why are you breathing?” Lexa asked.

Clarke giggled, tilting her head to rest their foreheads together “What?” she sighed with a drunken laugh.

“You don’t need to breath” Lexa hushed, giggling a little too as they stumbled more than danced “Why are you doing it?”

“Oh… well-” and again with the fang-licking, Lexa was sure that a few more time and she wouldn’t be able to hold back the need to capture that tongue “The feeding, y’know how I get drunk because they’re drunk?” she asks, motioning vaguely with her hands and chuckling when Lexa pulls her back to her after she stumbled back.

“It happens because… I kinda… absorb a little of their life. Not like… take from… their time, just-” She tasked, and Lexa couldn’t decide if she should fixate of her mouth or her eyes, bluer than she’d ever seen them “like the blood makes me… alive, for however long it takes my body to… fully…” another giggle, another misstep “absorb it”

“Oh yeah?” Lexa nodded, unable to contain the smile on her face, she bumped her nose with Clarke “Sounds fun” she hushes, because if they stop talking, she might end up kissing her.

And okay, it was what she wanted, but she knew it was a bad idea, and she didn’t want to initiate it anyways.

“It is” Clarke nods, grinning widely “It’s why my eyes are lighter… or bluer… I guess”

“Really?” Lexa leans back, wanting to get a better look, and Clarke unconsciously leans forward, almost chasing her.

“Yep” she sighs this time when their foreheads press together again, there a slumber looks in her eyes now “You know how they’re… black, before I feed?” Lexa only hums her agreement “That’s the… monster”

“Hey, no, don’t call it that. That’s the hunger” Lexa says, and she’s had both arms around Clarke’s waits this whole time, so she lifts one up to cares the side of her neck. “You’re not -We’re not monsters” Clarke eyes her, not buying it.

And Lexa knows, she knows that this is not a worry Clarke carries every day, she knows the vampire is self-aware and has probably lived longer than Lexa is capable of wrapping her head around. She knows these are drunk insecurities that won’t be there in the morning- or in a few hours- but she needs to calm them, because she also knows that is a worry that comes from deep, deep down in her core.

“You are cable of feeding without killing. And even if you had to kill to do it, you wouldn’t be different than an animal. You wouldn’t be different than a werewolf. We’re not that much different than humans”

Clarke’s hands have moved from Lexa’s shoulder to her arms, up her neck and into her hair in a sequence since they started dancing. In the breath after Lexa finishes speaking, one hand moves back into her hair and the other stays holding her arm, a subtle tilt of her head it’s all that’s needed for the lips to connect as she pulls Lexa closer in every way.

Lexa’s breath catches in her throat as her arms instinctively wrap around Clarke and she answers the kiss eagerly. It’s slow for a second, they adjust to the press of Clarke’s fangs in a tight press of lips. Then it intensifies, there’s a brief separation before they both lean in again, stronger, deeper. They pull each other close and sigh into each other’s mouth, Lexa gasps and Clarke smirks every time her fang nibs Lexa’s tongue or lips, and they absently move out of the makeshift dance floor.

They don’t bump into anyone, their super senses kick in and helping them navigate the crowded room without even looking. Clarke sucks on Lexa’s lower lip with a softness that makes Lexa forget there’s sharp fangs behind those lips. She licks into Clarke’s mouth anyways, learning each time where to go and how to enjoy it, Clarke’s tongue guides her too, she absolutely enjoys that part the most.

Lexa is leaned against the hallway wall, the window beside them is open and the breeze is a nice contrast to the warm of their bodies pressed against each other, hands pulling and wandering as they exchange heated kisses.

Lexa gaps and turns her head away from the kiss suddenly, her reflexes kick in when Clarke leans for -a kiss to- her neck and her arm goes up to grab Clarke by the throat. She pauses, confused, still holding Lexa close, and then she hears it too, the faith distinguished howl of a wolf; Clarke can tell is a werewolf, Lexa understands the entire message.

“I need to go” she says, still looking out, eyes red now, fangs out.

“Do you need help?” Clarke sobers up, she doesn’t move though, neither of them do.

“No. You shouldn’t come” and finally Lexa pulls away, Clarke takes a step back with her and their arms drop when Lexa moves to go back into the main room “Clarke. I mean it. Don’t follow” she says, and she tries to ignore the looks on her face, tries not to read too much into the flash of darkening eyes, and leaves without looking back.

[vaguely-concerned]

Silly Garashir ficlet, Teen and Up-ish, mostly banter! CW: copious amounts of blood but like. Purely in a comedy capacity (don’t worry none of it is Garak’s)

“Good god,” Julian breathed, unable to do anything but stare for a moment. 

“Oh, don’t worry, none of this is mine,” Garak said, dripping puddles of crimson onto the floor, calm blue eyes the only thing peeking out from the solid layer of blood covering his face and upper torso. “The gravest injury has been to my wardrobe, I assure you. As you might have gathered, I encountered our suspected evildoer as they sought to make their escape.”

“From the looks of things, I’d hazard it’s more accurate to say that they encountered you,” Julian said. He shook himself out of his momentary petrification and raised the medical tricorder to make sure Garak’s reports of being unharmed hadn’t been greatly exaggerated, as would sometimes be the case with him. 

“However you would prefer to frame it,” Garak said, dipping his chin modestly and blinking globs of blood from his eyelashes. “I’m sorry to say I couldn’t ascertain many details about them, neither in terms of species or other identifying details. They were masked and coming at me with a knife at the time, which in the moment tends to blot out other considerations in one’s mind.”

Despite himself, Julian grinned at the performative airiness of Garak’s tone. He did seem to be basically fine. “I think that’s understandable under the circumstances, Garak. Odo’s probably going to track them down pretty quick, if they’re leaving a trail of blood across the station. Do you, er… want a handkerchief or something?” 

“It’s very kind of you to offer, but I don’t think that’s going to do the job in this case.”  

“No,” Julian had to admit, “no, you’re — probably right. I’ll let you go for a thorough sonic and peace and quiet once I’m done with this. I’m sure Odo will want a word with you later, though.”

Garak parted his lips to say something, and grimaced. “Ugh. Well, if it’s any help in figuring out the identity of our culprit, that’s definitely the taste of Napean blood. As you mentioned there will of course also likely be other clues, like them bleeding profusely as they sprint across the Promenade, but I always strive to be helpful wherever I can.” 

“Garak!” Julian yelped, shooting him an alarmed look and continuing his inspection of the tricorder readings with renewed worry. 

“Hm? Yes? You can run whatever tests you want on it to be sure, of course, but I am quite certain in my conclusion. There is a… distinctive tang to —”

“That’s so medically unsafe, you can’t go around ingesting —” 

“Well, I hardly meant to ingest anything, Doctor, but it did end up all over my person in a way that makes it hard to entirely avoid,” Garak snapped, though he tolerated Julian going in for a second, even more thorough examination without complaint. “Maybe if this person hadn’t so rudely insisted on venting the contents of their arteries straight into my face during our tussle — ”

“Yes, yes, I understand, sorry, I wasn’t suggesting you did it on purpose or anything, but it does mean I really do need to monitor you for any allergic reactions or bloodborne… wait, wait, hang on, how do you even know what Napean blood — ”

Smiling in a way that aimed for beatific and missed it by way of too many bared teeth, in a manner that would probably be quite unsettling if Julian wasn’t so used to (so fond of, whispered a treacherous little voice in the back of his head) Garak’s face, Garak dabbed daintily at the worst of the blood dripping off his nose with his sleeve and said: “Do you really want to know, or is this your outsized curiosity running ahead of your better judgment again?”

“I’m going to be wondering about it all night, but no, I don’t think I want to know, actually. If I come back in a week and still can’t put it out of my mind, feel free to tell me, though. Or use that time to come up with a good story, I don’t mind.”

“Never any but the best for you, my friend,” Garak said fondly. 

[deuce-t-agere]

X-Men Evolution CG Steve Rogers and Regressor Logan

Very self indulgent caregiver Cap and age/pet regressor Wolvie bc they’re my favorite rare pair

Having better technology now Shield was able to use Logan’s healing factor to save Steve so he could come out of the ice finally, Logan was just as straight faced as usual but the little baby part of his brain was just an excited little puppy.

My Papa! My Papa! Papa come back!!

Before Steve was back Logan would go to museums sometimes when he was feeling small and spend time looking at the Captain America exhibits.

He has gotten into a few arguments with the poor museum staff when they say it’s unclear if Captain America was real or just a story.

Steve obviously didn’t fully understand what was happening when Logan regressed for the first time but Logan was his friend (lover if you want and I do want) so he was going to help him out as best he could.

It’s okay, Buddy. You’re okay. When Logan breaks down because being small crept up on him after a mission.

When he got back Steve was finally able to do proper research on Logan regressing, he isn’t quite sure if Logan age regresses or pet regressed or both.

Logan isn’t entirely sure either and doesn’t particularly care to try figuring it out.

Logan will hold on to Steve’s belt while he follows him around when it’s just the two of them. He still does it after Steve finally comes back. He doesn’t want anything or even always need to be going with Steve, he just wants to.

Steve will let Logan cuddle him when they slept, a lot of their missions were just the two of them so no one else would see, and now they have the privacy of a room in the mansion together and the X-Men are very understanding.

Logan will cling to Steve’s arm or lay on his chest when they sleep together, it takes some getting used to when Steve gets back because Logan is much heavier now.

Steve tries to be cautious about how much praise he gives Logan so he doesn’t over whelm him.

Lots of Good boy, Logan. And tussling his hair when he does little things well to build up his confidence.

After Steve comes back Logan takes a long time to tell him about what he remembers of Weapon X, Steve just holds him when he does and assures him that none of it was his fault.

Steve will take Logan to baseball games, Logan spends the whole time asking for snacks and enjoying all the fun smells instead of watching the game, but then still insists he wants Steve to teach him how to play.

Steve does try to teach Logan how to play baseball every so often, it always turns into a game of fetch because Logan would rather chase the ball than try to hit or catch it.

Papa, throw again? Sure, Buddy, but I need the ball back first. No! Mine!

Logan likes to bite a lot, Steve has gotten quite a few sizable marks on his arms from it.

Thanks to the serum Steve can carry Logan about as easily as a regular guy his size could carry an average person.

Logan isn’t sure how he feels about being carried, but it is kind of nice for Steve to carry him to bed when he’s sleepy.

Steve likes taking Logan to museums, usually they won’t go to any that involve war history, Steve doesn’t want to accidentally trigger anything. But sometimes Logan likes to go and tell Steve things that got wrong about certain wars he fought in if he’s feeling a bit older than usual.

That is not how it happened. It was actually- and Steve just listens, having no idea if it actually is more accurate or if Logan is exaggerating.

Rising acceptance of LGBTQ was great for them because fewer people cared if they held hands while going for walks (and cause they deserve to kiss) So Steve can actually hold on to Logan when they go on nature walks now.

Logan once barked at and bit a guy who yelled at them for holding hands. Steve had to explain to Logan that it was great that he was standing up for them but he can’t bite people.

He was mean! It’s still not nice to bite, Pal. He was mean, Papa!

Steve can’t exactly argue with the logic, biting isn’t the best way to go, but that man was indeed mean first and did deserve it.

[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

Your First Time with the Van Der Linde boys

Get ready for your first time, but, with some of the most notorious outlaws of the west >:3

This one was requested by @kieropal​

Don’t you worry! The chubby reader drabble requested by @mrsarthurmorgan7​ will be coming out later tonight too! 

Obviously this is a lil NSFW so under the cut and 18+!

Arthur Morgan

First things first Arthur because BArK 

Oh boy. 

Oh boy, oh boy. 

Poor, poor broken hearted and mentally ill Arthur.

When you tell him that you haven’t done the deed yet he isn’t at all upset that you haven’t done it, rather he’s upset you’ve decided you want him as your first. 

I mean.

He’s Arthur, of course he’s gonna sit here and tell you that he’s not good enough.

He’s gonna sit and go “You should be with someone better than me, especially for your first time. They’ll do better than I can, I don’t even know if I’ll please you.” 

But, after enough reassurance that you do in fact love him, and that his mannerisms alone are enough to get you hot and bothered he’s willing to give it a try, but don’t you DARE think that he’s not gonna ask you how you’re feeling through the whole thing. 

The BIG night comes around.

He’s a wreck

Sweating before he’s...well supposed to be sweating. 

Afraid that he’s gonna disappoint you, and I mean, it’s been a very long time since he’s done the hanky panky.

The good ol’ horizontal tango.

The devil’s dance

After Mary? He had a string of one night stands to try to forget her but they never went anywhere and after that-

it was almost a 10 year dry spell, besides his hand anyway.

He obviously doesn’t know how long he’ll actually last, and he’s not sure he remembers any of his techniques.

After you relax him, or rather work him up with an amazing makeout session, your hands all over him, he’s forgotten most of his issues.

It isn’t until he’s gotten your clothes off and you’re fully exposed to him that he panics again. 

You have to guide him, he’s too nervous to do it himself, so taking your hand you grab his wrist and gently place his hand on your breast. 

From there he feels like he has permission and goes kinda ham with the touching.

He’s so nervous and red in the face the whole time, making sure you like the way he’s doing things. 

When it gets to the nitty gritty he’s gentle as he possibly can be. 

He doesn’t want to hurt you, and he thinks that you’re exaggerating when you tell him how big he is but nonetheless he takes it into consideration and does his best to ease you into movement. 

While the two of you are basically cockwarming he’s doing nothing but offering you kisses, all over your face, your neck, whispering nothing but sweet things in your ear the whole time. 

When he does get things moving? 

Holy shit

You literally are blown away.

Not only is he fantastic with his mouth, but he knows EXACTLY how to fucking use his body. 

And with all the sound you make 

The whole camp is gonna know what happened and who had you, and that gives Arthur a MAJOR boost, and that nervousness dies a little and he’s driven on.

He pulls out obviously, especially with it being your first time, and when the two of you finish, (Him first to his embarrassment but he doesn’t leave you hanging by any means) he cleans you up and pulls you close

He asks a bunch of times if you liked it, but most of them are groggy. 

He’s half asleep the moment he gets settled, and he falls fully asleep with you running your fingers through his hair. 

Accurate representation of Kieran

Kieran this poor man.

If anyone has more anxiety than Arthur Morgan?

It’s him.

Look at him?

You think he’s a top?

NO 

he’s gotta figure out HOW to TOP

When you tell him 

“Hey, I love you, don’t freak out, but this will be my first time.” 

He absolutely does not listen to you and does in fact 

freak out

He asks you if you’re absolutely sure that you want him to be your first, or that you want to do it with him in general

and you tell him OF COURSE

and he’s like 99 percent sure that you’re lying to him, but he goes with it.

The whole week leading up to your night he nearly avoids you, just because if he imagines your faces and such he feels like a dirty man.

After you realize this you sit him down and have talk.

Telling him that what he feels is normal, and it’s especially normal to feel that way towards someone you’re with.

Then you explain to him that it actually flatters you that he’d think of you like that. 

From there he gets a little red in the face, and then

TheN 

things begin to get a little steamy.

You’d planned on going out of camp 

but things got a little heated, you started off comforting him, but somehow you ended up kissing him, and that kissing led to a little more kissing, and that led to a little more touching...

By the time the two of you are naked you’re completely unaware of how it happened. 

When its time for warm ups? 

He’s actually a lot more skilled than he lets on.

He’s a little slow, and way too nervous to do ANYTHING until you guide him and tell him that its okay a couple of times but...

He knows what he’s doing to an extent.

He needs guidance for sure, just like any guy, but somewhere along the line he learned a thing or two.

Now, when the main event comes up-

Wooo

he’s even more nervous, but coupled with that nervousness he’s got a hard on and one wins out over the other.

However.

He requests that you take the lead.

It’s your first time, and he wants you to be happy with the way things go, and for that to happen you need to dictate what goes on.

So 

He asks that you choose what to do

That and he’s a bottom of course

I’m kidding he tops sometimes, but for his first time with you he totally wants you to have all the control so it goes exactly how you’d like.

He’s very whiny throughout the whole thing.

Not in like a bad way, in a ‘he’s so horny for you it’s not funny and he just can’t not make that sound’ kind of way

With you riding him and his hands on your hips the night goes pretty smoothly.

He follows every order you give him fantastically. 

And when you two are finished he cleans you up as gently as he can, but then he’s hit with all of his insecurities that had disappeared in his throws of PASSION

He’ll ask over and over again if you’re alright, and call himself an idiot for not asking earlier. 

He feels so embarrassed that he did that and that he didn’t ask how you were feeling or that he didn’t make sure absolutely everything was okay.

But you reassure him that you had a great time and that you’d love to do it again with him later, but you’re half asleep and he doesn’t really believe you.

You pull him to your chest and make him lay his head on your collar bone and you just run your hand through his hair, and hold him close. 

He settles down a little then but will ask one more time if you’re sure you were okay and that it was good.

And again you tell him how much you enjoyed it and eventually the poor guy passes out in your arms.

IT”S ARTHUR’S BOYFRIEND

Oh Charles, the only man in camp who isn’t completely overcome with anxiety when he breaths.

Well besides Dutch, but that’s just because he’s cocky.

When you tell him it’s your first time, he’s not at all nervous.

He smiles at you and asks if you’re absolutely positive you want this, and that he’s the guy you want to be the one to take something so precious.

When you say yes that’s the end of the conversation. He’s asked you and you told him yes, unless you come to him and tell him otherwise he will go about his day with plans in his head for you. 

He will be very loving towards you leading up to it, which he usually is anyway, I mean, not in front of the gang, but in private. 

He’s always kind and he will mention to you that he will do his best to make the night a good one for you.

He’ll take you to the nicest hotel he can find for you. More than likely the one in Saint Denis. 

While the city itself is gross and horrible and he wished his didn’t have take you through there, but the hotel is good, and that’s where he’s gonna take you.

When the two of you get there and get to the room this man takes his time.

Of course before he even kisses you he does ask that you are absolutely sure that this is what you want. 

When you say yes all is a go.

He’s sweet and tender, and he goes slowly too, taking his time to kiss over your entire body and make sure that you know how he feels about you and what he loves about you. 

He gets you warmed up and excited easily, and you let him know that, you tell him exactly what he does that turns you on, and he makes a mental note of every single thing that you tell him.

He wants to go rough with you at a different time, but now is not that time.

When you finally start begging him to have him rather than all the foreplay he caves and does just what you ask.

He is slow here too, stretching you to accommodate because like Arthur he’s fairly big himself. 

When you do get used to him the two of you move in tandem and he moves at a good pace, slow but not too slow, and the night seems to last forever, but you do not mind in the SLIGHTESt.

When the two of you finish he wipes you clean, but not too clean, because he then takes you to the adjacent room and the two of you take a nice relaxing bath together

The only reason that you don’t fall asleep in there is because he’s there to wake you when he needs to. 

When you go to bed you fall asleep with his strong arms around your waist and you smile in your sleep, which he remembers for the rest of his life.

I am not a dutch girl but look at his lil leggys

Dutch is a different man, one of a different caliber. 

So when you tell him that you want him to be your first

he is 

EXCITED

he’s ecstatic

The idea that he is the one

HIM 

IT’s

HIM 

he gets to do it, he’s poppin the cherry, he gets to make you BUCK WILD

he loses it 

of course he promises that he’ll make it good and that he’ll be nice to you, but he is extremely excited to do this with you.

He does love you, really he does, he’s just a bit of a, well a chad to be real

He does in fact make sure that the night will be ABSOLUTELY perfect for you.

The best hotel, the theater, anything and everything high class, he even wears a suit.

And unlike Charles he isnt a gentleman, so when it comes time for business it’s bath first and then bed.

And the bath is where things get heated.

He starts with kissing you on the shoulders, on the neck, something innocent, but his hands are travelling lower than they should have, and by the time you realize it you’re far too excited to say no to him.

He tells you, you have to be quiet otherwise the two of you will be thrown out.

And he tells you that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. 

He does a lot of sweet talking to you, working you up, using his fingers just the right way.

When you feel his hardness on your ass you take things into your own hands

uh

figuratively this time

and take it upon yourself to move and settle yourself onto him.

From there he takes the lead and you know you’re gonna have bruises on your hips from where he’d gripped you.

He ends the night with actually cleaning you off in the bath, you know, what it’s supposed to be used for, and then takes you to the bedroom where the two of you go for round two because Dutch is still hyped up on the fact that the only cock that’s ever been in you has been his.

Finally after round two you’re too tired and too bruised to go another round, but it’s a happy, hazy kind of tired and bruised.

He smokes a cigar and then before you know it he’s spooning you to sleep.

OKAY 

I really liked doing these y’all! 

Let me know if anyone would like some of the other men in camp 

idk why these ones specifically I just kinda

CHOSE

[rweoutofthewoods]

I’ve got two questions!

The depiction of demisexuality in TB… how accurate is that? Bc I know love in stories is often exaggerated and people don’t feel that way, but the way James’s thoughts and sexuality are described there… I may have to do some introspection if demisexuality is fr Like That.

Also, if you’re willing to let us know, is the timeline going to be: James confesses about his student -> Sirius finds his little brother and connects the dots OR is it Sirius finds his little brother-> James has an oh shit moment?

I hope you have a great day!!

Hi!! So I think demisexuality is a spectrum and ofc this is fiction, so I’d never say it’s 100% accurate. BUT in my personal experience it’s pretty close. James found a connection with Reg he’s never had with anyone which with being demi you need that important bond first before physical attraction comes. And James, he’s not sex repulsed, he never hated it, he’d just never felt that connection and trust before that made him actually desire it. Like he did have sex even though he didn’t experience that kind of attraction to people, because of course culture and society affects those sorts of things, but I think the key things is that he’s never actually like felt lust for a person. Like it wasn’t something he thought about or desired, and he was totally fine not having sex. Jegulus bonded and found a deep understanding in each other very quickly, and while Reg was attracted to James from the first meeting and was planning to seduce him from like the first week, James didn’t feel the same sort of lust or sexual desire until AFTER they’d bonded. I think in a lot of irl cases, it might take a lot longer to build that bond and trust that could then lead to sexual attraction, but in the case of Tennessee Baby, it’s fiction and they both became very interested and attached to each other very quickly, so do take it with a grain of salt. I hope it’s a pretty close depiction, but everyone is different and I’m sure it’s not perfect.

YOUR OTHER QUESTION… I can’t say bc I’ve been toying with both a new idea and my original plan. I won’t know for sure until I try to write it and see what I like best. But I will say that some shit is going to go down over Christmas 🙏😍 And I do know regardless that Sirius is not going to find out about Jegulus until a bit of time after he reconnects with Reg, but that’s all I can say for sure rn.

[dvzaiosamu]

Apple juice and Bandages. Soukoku fluff fanfic. This one is simply fluff, maybe ooc or not, I'm going to try to make their relationship accurate, if not, I'm sorry beforehand.

Trigger Warnings: mentions of drinking blood, skin cutting. Overall, fluff.

Soukoku! Vampire Chuuya Nakahara x Dazai Osamu. And the summary is: Chuuya is a vampire that likes to drink apple juice and Dazai it's just hanging out with him, trying to annoy him, as usual, but Chuuya and him have a surprisingly easeful moment until Dazai has a stupid idea that Chuuya isn't a big fan of.

Notes — By the way, even though Chuuya is a vampire, he won't burn to ashes when it's daylight, just to make sure you all understand. Also, this is like, not fake vampire fangs like Chuuya had in the Meursault, he has like real vampire fangs here.

Just one day, a day that was approaching night, but the sun continued to shine, illuminating the redhead's pale face. The birds sang as they rested on the branches of the weak trees, sharing a romantic and friendly moment as the night approached with the passing of the hours.

The two of them, walking in a pleasant silence, surrounded by Heathers and Amaryllis, flowers that managed to give the place a sufficiently calm atmosphere to be hanging around. The tranquility of the place gave them an unusual moment in their relationship in general, since normally Dazai always found one way or another to make the shorter one angry.

A wave of thoughts unites them, since each one, in the silence, wonders the same thing, why out of nowhere they are no longer arguing as usual. In any case, they were not going to deny that this moment was not pleasant, although it was difficult for them to accept that their presence made them be in a calm state, although only in moments as bizarre as this one.

"Hey, why are we so quiet out of nowhere? This is painfully unusual," the redhead decides to speak first, glancing sideways at Dazai.

"You ask me as if I knew..." the companion pauses, an exaggerated sigh leaving his lips. "You're probably just afraid of me, which is why you didn't want to talk the whole way."

A challenging but annoyed expression is present on Chuuya's face, who does not hesitate to respond: "What would I be afraid of anyway? Because nothing scares me about you, you're just a weakling, even if you can nullify my ability, still you aren't going to be able to defeat me so easily hand to hand."

Once again, an argument catches fire, and with each word more fuel is added to the fire.

Dazai shrugs, "Maybe, but you know damn well you can't kill me, you'd at least hurt me, but you'd never murder me."

"Are you becoming sentimental out of nowhere? Come on, please, don't make me consider killing you right now," Chuuya responds, although his eyes give it away, his irises give him away that he's not actually capable of killing him, and that's because of the strong bond that they have created over the years, which has not been seen on the outside, within them, the two of them know very well that they are one soul in the body of two.

A light smile appears on the brown-haired man's lips. His movements are carefree, not caring that his partner is not only a vampire, but also a human, within him he has a human, and although Chuuya still has a hard time calling himself one, Dazai will do everything in his power to do so, to make him reconsider he is a human being.

"You're not hungry?" Dazai changes the subject, ignoring the redhead's scowl. "There are some apples over here."

Soon, the shorter one's face becomes a little softer, and avoiding meeting his eyes, he says, "Since you say it, I could use some energy."

Immersed in a brief silence, Dazai deviates from the initial path and while Chuuya waited a few steps for him to return, Dazai had strangely offered to go himself and pick an apple from a tree and take the trouble to clean it with his clothes, before handing it to Chuuya,

"Here, take it."

"I hope you didn't poison it or something," he looks before gently circling the apple with his fingers, knowing how easily they can be damaged by pressure.

"I'm not the Evil Queen, you know? I'm not going to poison an apple to kill you, it's a boring death," he rolls his eyes and smiles playfully, his look dulcet but unnoticeable to the shorter boy.

Trying to trust the brunette's words, Chuuya sighs before taking a small bite just to taste the flavor, before finally sinking in his two fangs and beginning to drink the juice until it is dry and completely lifeless.

"See? It's good, I told you it's not poisoned," he smiles, and Chuuya raises an eyebrow, tossing the apple away.

"Are you stupid? Poison doesn't always act instantly, it can take a few minutes," Chuuya replies, wiping away the apple juice that ran down his chin. "You know, give me another apple."

"I told you you'd like it, Chuuya," Dazai puts his hand on Chuuya's shoulder, who immediately removes his hand. Without further ado, this time Chuuya follows the brunette towards the tree, and upon observing it he realizes that he won't be able to grab one. Another reason to be embarassed and be the next reason for Dazai to make fun of you. "Look, there are several, tell me which one you want and I'll give it to you."

"That one," he points.

"Okay," he replied, raising his hand to take the one the redhead pointed out to him. It was an ordinary apple, but he supposes that it is because of the color, it was green, standing out a little among the red ones. Dazai hands it to Chuuya, but not before making sure Chuuya sees him clean it with his clothes like he already did with the previous one.

"Thank you," Chuuya says in a calm voice, very unlike of him. With a plunge of his fangs into the apple, he begins to devour the juice in anticipation, the juice drains from the apple, rolling down his chin until it is left like the previous one, dark in color and dry. He throws it back to where the previous one was.

"Just look at you, your mouth is going to be sticky from the juices," he laughs softly before reaching into his pocket for some wet wipes so the redhead can clean himself up. "Here, so you can get the stickiness off your horrible face," he hands a wet wipes to his partner.

"My face? I'm sure my hygiene is better than yours," rolling his eyes, he wipes his chin with the refreshing wipes that smell like lavender and a few hints of fruit.

"You're so mean," he sighs.

When he finishes cleaning himself, he looks around for a trash can. Dazai notices this, since well, it wasn't a very clever move on Chuuya's part, who wasn't even trying to hide it, he just wanted to find a container to throw the wet wipe away.

"Chibi, are you telling me that you're going to throw the wet wipe in the trash but not the apples in the trash?" he gasps.

"Do you know how to use your mind or are you being stupid?" pauses. "It is an organic food, it is going to decompose at some point and some animal or weird bug will take advantage of it and eat it. And look, there's a trash can."

Chuuya goes to the trash and throws the wet wipe inside, making a disgusted face when he smells the malodorous that was there, immediately stepping back with a sound of disgust. "You know, we should leave now and be on our way..."

Dazai approached from behind, who with a smile affirmed with a "Yeah, sure" before walking again, although Dazai had a more unexpected destination to take Chuuya.

The light simply gave the impression that a dawn was approaching that was already noticeable, clouds with orange and yellowish tones, it looked like orange marmalade and the combination of colors of apples.

The brunette's hand timidly approaches the redhead's, and when he tries to grab it he is struck down by Chuuya's gaze, who manages to stab him with just one look, and with a little nervousness, he looks to the side to hide his face. He slowly blushed a light pink.

"You know, if you wanted to hold my hand, you could ask me, not just take it out of the blue," Chuuya says, sighing lightly.

"...I-I'm sorry," he says softly, clearing his throat softly before turning to look at him, still unsure if his blush could be seen by him or not. "You know me, Chuuya, that's how I... I am—!"

"Look at you, all blushed," Chuuya smirks, with a teasing undertone. "How adorable."

Before Dazai feels the heat rise to his cheeks again, with a pout he responds,

"Hey! Stop making me feel like that, okay?... I don't even know why I act like that out of nowhere," he finishes his sentence with a sigh. "You are very mean, slug..."

For the first time all day a small amused laugh is heard coming out of the vampire's mouth, wiping away the small tears that had just accumulated in the corners of his eyes, he smiles warmly and finally intertwines his fingers with Dazai's, leaving him silent. Likewise, Osamu didn't say anything else, he didn't want to sound too weak against Chuuya's touch.

"You know what? Let's rest there," Dazai adds, looking at Chuuya, but seeing that he is confused, he points his finger at the place. "There."

"Why? Are you tired already?" A mischievous grin remains on Chuuya's face as he lets himself be guided by Dazai, who directs him towards a large tree, in the shade more precisely.

"Maybe..." he shrugs, quickening his pace until he gets there and after watching the leaves move slowly in the small breeze, he carefully sits down on the grass, making sure not to sit somewhere dirty. "Now sit down and stop asking."

Rolling his eyes, Chuuya sits next to him, with a small smile that, although it stopped being so mocking, still looked warm like the sunrise. When he spoke, he could see his fangs, which Dazai found adorable, so adorable that he even had stupid fantasies that if Chuuya could bite him and drink his blood like the vampires from those movies.

"Chuuya," he says.

"What now, mackerel?"

"Do you think you could drink my blood?" An unexpected question and said so naturally that the redhead's eyes widen.

"I think you've gone crazy," he says immediately. "I would rather drink the blood of three decomposing bodies than drink your blood."

"But then Chuuya will get sick," he says with a puppy-dog ​​expression. "After all, you are a vampire, you still need human blood even if you drink apple juice."

"True, but not yours."

Although Dazai didn't care what his partner said, with a sigh and pressing his lips into a firm line, he stretched the cloth around his neck to make it more convenient for the redhead to suck his blood.

"So aside from the fact that you want me to drink your blood... You also want me to bite your neck to do so?" with a grimace he responds. "I will do no such thing, not even in your dreams."

"If it's not my neck," he stops stretching the fabric, "then you can bite my palm."

"Why are you so excited and so insistent about it anyway?"

"I can read you, Chuuya. It's obvious that you need human blood, just look at you, you haven't drank human blood in two days," Dazai muses, making Chuuya reconsider.

A brief silence takes center stage, and Chuuya thinks for a few moments about Dazai's offer. It's true that he's been weakened slightly by not being able to drink a human's blood, but he hates having to simply bite someone innocent. With a small sigh, he nods.

"Fine, but I don't like the idea, asshole," he frowns.

Dazai smiles in response, "Good then."

Reaching into his pocket, he grabs a small, black-handled knife. Chuuya's eyes widen, confused.

"Wait, what the hell are you implying?" Although Chuuya has told him to wait, the brunette pays no attention and slides the open pocket knife across the skin his palm. "Dazai, you idiot, wait, don't—!"

"Chuuya," he stops the redhead from intervening, and with an indifferent expression, he lets out an instinctive hiss as he sinks the pocket knife a little deeper before putting it back in his pocket. "I know you don't like to bite...so I did you a favor and took out the blood. Now shut up and drink before it falls down."

With a sudden movement, he grabs Chuuya's arm with his good hand and forces him to lean on his hand to drink the blood. With a grunt, Chuuya gently takes the brunette's bleeding hand and holds it gently, swallowing the blood that was beginning to slip.

"You're such an idiot sometimes..." he says in a muffled voice, caused by his mouth pressed into his palm.

Dazai grunts softly, "W-well... What can I say, It was neccesary."

Without getting a response from the redhead, he closes his eyes so as not to focus on the sharp pain, but still, it stings. With a shaky sigh, using his other hand, the one he grabbed Chuuya's arm with earlier, he places his hand on Chuuya's head, beginning to gently caress it.

Although Chuuya complains, Dazai only smiles weakly as Chuuya sucks the brunette's blood down his throat eagerly. The redhead did not expect that his partner's blood would have a sweet taste, similar to the nectar of an apple.

"I told you you'd like it, shorty..." Dazai mutters.

"Shut up... Let me clean your wound. How deep have you stuck the knife in, you idiot?" He slurred his words out.

"Enough to feed your empty stomach..." he replied.

With a small grunt, displeased by the action the brunette did, and by the physical contact he was applying to him, he simply continued swallowing the blood, with a tad of guilt building up inside him.

Once Chuuya felt that he had been full, he stopped devouring the scarlet liquid and licked the area about twice before separating, licking his lips after having tasted such a delicacy. Looking at Dazai's hand, he understands that it will need to be covered by another pair of bandages so that it doesn't get infected, so it's Chuuya's turn to have something to help his partner, and that's what he does, taking it out of his jacket pocket, a roll of bandages that do not stick to the skin and start unrolling it.

Dazai seems confused.

"Oh, seems like Chuuya has got bandages to heal me, how cute," he dulcetly says, and Chuuya in the meanwhile, starts to warp the bandages around Dazai's hand. "Why do you have these in your pocket?"

"I've got used to deal with your... wounds," his voice drops, a soft and concerned tone from him. "You know."

Upon noticing the redhead's expression, he does not hesitate to caress his cheek, delicately as if it were porcelain, being careful not to break it. "Aww... Do I really worry you? I'm sorry, chibi."

"Not the best time for jokes, Dazai," he states, finishing bandaging his partner, with tired eyelids. After taking his blood, he felt the need to rest for a while.

"Alright, alright, I'll shut up," he chuckles.

With the sun setting, the orange colors of the sky having darkened, Chuuya knew that it was already late, and that they should return, but he couldn't stay awake for much longer. With a yawn, he drops Dazai's now bandaged hand and rubs his eyes with his hand before collapsing into Dazai's lap.

"Would you look at that, the shorty has fallen asleep," he smiles. His hand rests on Chuuya's head, and he feels that his eyelids also feel heavy, perhaps the fact that a vampire, his companion, drank his blood has also weakened him considerably.

Before falling asleep next to Chuuya, he murmurs some words that seem like something affectionate, but since his words were almost not understood, it remains an affectionate mystery.

They both fall asleep, in the warmth of their bodies.

Notes. Now, you might ask yourself, what the fuck I was on while writing a vampire drinking apple juice and not blood... Well, you guys know Fluttershy from mlp, right? Well, the episode where Fluttershy becomes a vampire and drinks the juice of the apple, yeah. That was my inspiration to do this silly oneshot.

[alpaca-clouds]

What do historians actually do?

Okay, talking so much about history so much, I will remind you once again: No, I am not a historian, I am mostly just a geek who reads a lot of books and papers about history and have unrestricted access to an university library.

But I do want to talk about what historians actually do - and what the issue with sources in terms of history are. Thanks to school and the way history of taught in school a lot of people have a very strange understanding of what historians actually do.

The issue arises from a lot of people assuming that history is a very certain thing. Again, in most normal schools history is taught like that. In school you are supposed to take whatever you are taught as gospel and without questioning. Just... memorize some "facts" and dates and that is it.

But... that is not what the profession of a historian is about. Because the historian basically has the job to construct and question history and do some analyzing.

See, here is the thing: We do know very little for certain in history. Because so many primary sources have been destroyed over time due to so many things. And those primary sources we have (primary source = something created at the time we are talking about) might in fact be unbiased. And there is also the question of what sources are the main sources that remain.

For example: For the middle ages, a lot of the sources we have are either from nobility or from the church. Because those are the places where a lot of stuff was written down. While as I said before the illiteracy of the normal folks is often exaggerated, they were most certainly less literate than nobility and also had often not easy access to parchment and ink (both of which were fairly expensive). And you have to see that most primary sources have been destroyed over time. Just because it was not preserved.

And just to stick to this example: When you are a historian, part of your job is to question whether the sources you have (which are biased towards nobility and the church) actually do paint an accurate picture of the life at the time - especially when they might talk about the lives of peasants.

And the same can of course be said about all the different eras of history. There are certain sources we have - and others that we do not have.

Additionally we also have to remember that a lot of human history was recorded as oral history rather than being written down. A lot of which is lost - just as the physical sources.

And yes, this is what historians do: Collect sources, translate sources, analyze and interpret those sources. Which is why history is changing constantly, because 1) we will find new sources, and 2) we also start to question sources we have more - and have a different outlook on history.

So, no. Historians are in fact not about memorizing some wanna-be facts and dates - but about actually engaging with historical sources and working with them.

As such, please remember: As long as we do not invent a time machine, history is not a set thing. Sure, it happened one way, but we cannot KNOW how it happened. All we can do is trying to understand what we can from the sources we have. But in the end EVERY SOURCE has a bias - and we need to understand this.

[three--rings]

Watched IWTV 1x01 with my husband tonight, in an attempt to spread the brainrot, and I have Thoughts.

So first, I was struck by how violent and aggressive Louis is from the beginning. Like of course I remembered on paper, but seeing it again after S2 really hit home.

Because the show definitely seems to be pointing to this tendency of his as part of the reason why his relationship with Lestat was Like That, and I also think the Throwing Armand Almost Through a Concrete Wall is telling us that too. (No matter how much he deserved it.) This episode just has Louis barely restraining his rage through the whole thing.

Secondly ...

Yeah I had a second point but uh, I forgor it. I waited a day to see if I would remember what point I was going to make, but yeah.

Anyway, I was NOT sure if Mr. Rings was gonna like this show at first. Like, after S2 I wanted him to see it cause it's so good, but I wasn't sure if like Gothic Gay Vampires was gonna be his thing.

So we finished and he goes "Goddammit now I'm in!" So yay, he liked it.

I thought it funny that he didn't remember Jacob from GOT but did immediately know who Eric was and even remembered the name of Talk Radio AND knew it had been his one man show first. Like, okay, I know we've watched that movie a long time ago but I didn't know my husband was storing so much info about it.

So yeah, apparently my husband is an Eric fanboy. He kept just going "god he's such a good actor."

However, he doesn't like Sam. I was like, well, wait and see. I promise he IS really good. So hopefully he grows on him.

Also I commented on how good Jacob's accent is, and he said "eh yeah." and I was like "for New Orleans?" But then he's only been there like once for any time, and I've been several times. (I spent more time around Cajuns than proper New Orleans, though, in East Texas.) But anyway what I realized/remembered that's great about Jacob's accent is that it's accurate, but also a little subtle. Like a very THICK NOLA accent can sound like an exaggeration or mockery, even if people DO actually sound like that. So Jacob's is a little dialed down so it doesn't sound silly.

God I remember this one infamous cab trip I had in NOLA with this driver who was this very large white dude with the thickest damn accent I ever heard. We get rerouted through the uh, unsavory parts of town, because the president was in town that day. So I got a tour of the projects. And then there was a guy on the street who had apparently lost a finger somehow and there was blood dripping down from his hand to the sidewalk. Even the cab driver was pretty shook by that one.

I nearly went to Tulane, but it was probably good I choose New York over New Orleans in the grand scheme.

[beyondtheglowingstars]

Ndbasjbhdasjhdv these two have been RATTLING my brain for the longest time (is there actually a time when they're not?) so I had no option but to give in and write a fic. Post ST Link chooses to remain an engineer, I'm pretty sure you'll notice a few specific headcanons of mine shining through on this fic etc, etc. I hope you like it regardless.

Gift

Pairing: Zelda x Link (platonic) Word count: 3.1k WARNING(S): None :) General info: Link had picked up on a small detail during their travels. What he had noticed, it bothered him; but he wanted to fix things and help Zelda experience what she wasn't given the chance to. Meanwhile, she feels in great debt with him and while she isn't able to fully repay him, she does the best she can in that moment even if it's something small.

His mind had been thinking about it for a while now, back to the way she had reacted when she first got on the Spirit Train and experienced what was beyond the immediate proximity of Hyrule Castle.

“It’s so pretty and peaceful out here! I’d love to run through these fields if I ever get my body back.”

And every other comment whenever they traveled to a different area was filled with pure, child-like wonder and excitement; they only helped confirm his suspicions of the princess never having set foot past Castle Town. Had she really been walled up in the castle almost her entire life?

Maybe he was exaggerating things a little. After all, she mentioned that she had seen snow before. Perhaps it was more accurate to think that Zelda had not stepped foot outside of the castle since her parents, the former king and queen, were still alive and in good health. She must have been around eight to ten years of age back then. Which was a very, very long time ago.

He found it ironic, how everyone else essentially had more freedom than the princess of New Hyrule herself. But he wasn’t judging or making fun of the situation, goodness, he could never think of it that way. But it did put into a more clear perspective just how much influence Cole had back then, however. And the more he thought about it, the more upset he felt.

The way her face lit up when she saw snow again since who knows how many years ago, how she had laughed with joy when she saw the dolphins keeping up with the train then leapt out of the water when the whistle was blown, how her eyes fixated with interest on the many flowers and animals in the forest… At this point he realized that he may have, unconsciously, created a mental album where he recorded Zelda’s every reaction to all those new experiences. His anger within did not subside, but there was no use in getting upset about past injustices, was there?

She had gone with him everywhere during the adventure and explored almost every corner of New Hyrule because of it, but there must be a big difference between having seen the world as a ghost compared to a living person. He was on his way to Hyrule Castle to complete a delivery after all, maybe he could try to talk to the princess once he got there and arrange plans for taking her across the vast land of the country; maybe catch up with her too, it had been a month since the adventure concluded and they had seen each other. But as hopeful as he was about getting to see Zelda again, he knew that she had to be incredibly busy with royal duties and wouldn’t have time for something so insignificant. Perhaps some other day.

Link sighed as he set his gaze on what was ahead, Hyrule Castle was quickly coming into view. The train was set to a slower speed, the engineer blew the whistle as he got closer to his destination, and even though he was nearly there, his mind couldn’t stop making him anxious and more wistful for getting to see the princess. Adjusting the gearbox, he brought the train to a slow and calculated stop at the station.

Once he stepped off from the train, he was greeted by a castle town resident. A large man that seemed to be accompanied by another male.

“Link! Thank you so much.” Grinning, the man stretched his hand out for the hero to take, which he did.

Only to later feel a large hand pat his back with enough strength that almost knocked him off-balance. The handshake concluded, Link was about to speak before being beat to it.

“I’m guessing it will be as much as last time, right?” The blond nodded his head in affirmation.

“Here you go!” A small pouch filled with rupees was handed over to the young engineer.

“Don’t worry about unloading, I’ve got a friend to help me with that.” The statement revealing the reason for the other male being there.

And for one, Link was glad about not having to unload the cart from the heavy shipment. The two men almost effortlessly picked up the big boxes and expressed their gratitude towards the hero once again before leaving. He was left alone to his thoughts after that.

His hand absentmindedly clenched around the knot keeping the rupee bag sealed, his body gently rocked back and forth on his heels; maybe he should give a shot at trying to see Zelda again after all, and if it turned out that her hands were too full for something like that, he could always try again later, no problem. Hopefully he wouldn’t be a bother.

The blond put the newly acquired rupees into his wallet and marched towards the castle garden. Various people around the town waved and addressed words of admiration at him, which in all honesty, all the attention overwhelmed him and lowered the small amount of confidence he struggled to gather just to get to the front of the castle. But when he actually got there, one could swear the last remaining fragment of confidence he still had could be heard shattering into a million pieces.

He found himself in a familiar scenario, approaching the two guards at the front of the castle, with one of them eyeing him suspiciously. Even if he had saved the world, it seems like some guards would remain the same as they’ve always been. Link looked back at the guard and swallowed thickly, rehearsing in his mind again what he was about to say to the watchmen as he opened his mouth to speak.

“LINK!!” But this time he would be interrupted by the person he least expected to see.

Both the young engineer and the guards turned to the source of the sound. Clear as day, there was Princess Zelda running to the castle entrance, heading to their direction as she waved to her friend. Link’s face immediately brightened, and he instantly felt relief from all the things he’d been worried about. Zelda practically squeezed in between the two guards, she ran at Link with outstretched arms implying an incoming hug, the hero mirrored her gesture in expectance of a soothing embrace.

What he was not counting on, was for Zelda to squeeze him in a bone-crushing hug. He gasped in surprise, and then it became painfully apparent that he should have taken in a big gulp of air before engaging with the princess, seeing as he wouldn’t be able to properly breathe until the girl chose to let him go.

“LINK! Why didn’t you come visit earlier?!” As if he hadn’t already experienced enough emotions the last few seconds, he also felt himself being lifted off the ground a few centimeters, his cheeks warmed up with a faint red hue.

To make matters worse, he could see one of the guards trying his best to not laugh out loud, while the other one ignored the basic concept of giving the teens a small moment of much needed privacy.

“Pardon my interruption, but Your Highness, you should not venture outside the castle unannounced.” The man in green uniform stated, Link swore that the watchman was looking down at him with a menacing stare.

Zelda put the boy back on his feet after hearing the voice. Not that Link didn’t appreciate the gesture or how the princess was beaming with excitement to see him, but he was definitely grateful to be able to breathe normally again.

“You’re right. Let’s go, Link!” Zelda politely nodded at the guard, taking the engineer’s hand in hers as she replied and practically dragged Link into the castle.

The boy nearly tripped and fell from the unexpected dash. Zelda’s smile had not let up even now as she ran through the corridors holding Link’s hand, the guard in charge of watching the stairs leading to the throne room had to step away or else he risked being ran over by an enthusiastic princess. The hero had no clue where the girl got this much energy from and neither did he know how she was able to run so fast with heels on, all he knew was the way to Zelda’s chambers was a blur and suddenly found himself sitting down on furniture that was probably more expensive than anything he’s ever owned. The monarch sat beside him, the icy blue of her eyes trained on his face.

“Really, what took you so long to come back, Link?” Her arms crossed in front of her chest, face showed a minor pout.

“I’m sorry, Zelda. I figured you were busy so I didn’t want to bother you.” The engineer took his conductor cap in his hands and began fidgeting with it.

Zelda’s eyes widened with a gasp.

“Link, don’t ever say that again!” She lightly squeezed Link’s shoulders, the gesture making the boy become slightly tense, but he loosened up again just as quickly.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you! Had it not been for the train’s whistle and I wouldn’t have known you were here. You can come whenever you want, you know?”

“If you say so…” Link refused to meet her gaze for the most part, opting to direct his attention to his cap instead, which he was still playing with.

Zelda flashed him a sympathetic smile, one which made the hero audibly let go of a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and copied her smile. The princess drew back her arms to rest on her lap, the engineer took this moment to adjust the cap back onto his head.

“Yes, really! I mean it. And I haven’t been too busy as of recent, actually. So don’t think you interfered or anything like that.”

Link internally sighed in relief, instantly feeling lighter after knowing that he wasn’t inconveniencing the princess. The boy cleared his throat.

“I’m glad to hear, Zelda.” A shy smile popped on his face.

“Umm, since you’re saying that you haven’t been too busy, I was wondering if you’d like to go on a trip with me across New Hyrule. I figured you didn’t get to enjoy much from the places we went to since we were tight on time and you were, well, a ghost back then.”

The engineer twiddled with his fingers, searching through his brain for the some of the things he’d been practicing in his mind to say in this moment.

“Of course, it doesn’t have to be to be today! You probably have something to do later on, so just tell me when you’re able to go, if you’d like. I can take you anywhere you wish, just tell me where and I’ll get us there.” A half-nervous smile on his face as he hoped that Zelda would take his offer.

The princess stared into Link’s eyes, her expression unreadable to him, and he was almost sure that she was about to reject him and never consider the offer. Until she squealed and he felt himself being squeezed in a hug again. It took him a few seconds to fully process what had happened, but when he reoriented himself he wrapped his arms around Zelda in return. At least this time he didn’t feel like his ribs or any other bone would fracture.

“I’d love to go! Thank you so much!” She separated much sooner than before, lips curved in a grin.

Link thinks it’s the happiest he’s ever seen her until now, and he couldn’t help giggling at her antics.

“Oh, I never did thank you properly for everything you’ve done for me. Yet here you are, giving even more without asking for anything in exchange.” Zelda’s expression became pensive.

“What do you mean? You were always looking out for me during the adventure and saved my butt more than once. Without you, I would have died on the first day! I have nothing to ask of you. I can’t.”

The princess averted her eyes, silently giggling to herself as she recalled a few fun memories from the adventure.

“I guess you’re right. You’re lucky you had me! Otherwise I think you might have slept in the dungeons.”

Link’s cheeks flared up as he picked up on Zelda referencing an embarrassing moment he had in one of the quests.

“H-hey! Here I am, offering to do something nice for you, and this is how you pay me?” A glint of mischief in his eyes as he added exaggerated his tone in a joking manner.

“If you don’t like it, then maybe you should take better care of yourself! And maybe then I’ll stop teasing you.” Link gave a fake huff of indignance.

“But it’s true! If I find out you’re still as careless as you were back then, I’ll put a phantom in your house so you’re reminded of me and do the minimum to take care of yourself.”

The hero pretended to roll his eyes in annoyance, face decorated with an evil smirk.

“If you do that, I’ll invite a rat family to your bedroom so they can turn it into their home.”

The princess gasped in disbelief. This time she was the one whose face dusted with pink on the cheeks as Link chuckled at her reaction.

“Here I am, worrying about your well-being, and this is how you pay me?” Zelda imitated his tone from earlier as if to mock him.

It only made the engineer laugh loudly, until his contagious laughter caught on to Zelda herself and the room was filled by the sound of their combined laughs. They were probably heard all the way from a few corridors away but neither of them cared about the volume of their voice, taking them at least a minute until they were both gasping to recover air and finally calmed down. Zelda was the first to speak again.

“Okay, but really now. I do hope you’re actually looking after yourself now.”

“Alright! I’m not as careless anymore, I promise.” Link put his hands up as a sign of defeat.

Zelda showed a smug smirk, knowing she had won this time, but having no further intentions of teasing Link.

“Well, it was a lot of fun talking with you again. Let’s go, Link!” Zelda swiftly stood up from her seat and set her hand out for Link to take, her demand and actions snapped him out of the head-space he was in.

“H-huh? Go where?”

“On that trip you said you’d take me, dummy!”

“Right now?! Are you sure?” The hero hesitantly took the princess’s hand, standing up much slower than she did in comparison.

“Yes! Oh wait, I forgot to ask you if you’re free for the rest of the day, didn’t I?” Zelda flashed him an apologetic smile, letting go of his hand. “Do you still have to do something today?”

Link looked to the side, scanning his mind to make sure there wasn’t any unattended business he has to take care of later, but he didn’t find anything. Well, there wasn’t anything except for a minor favor Alfonzo had asked him to fulfill. But he knew his instructor well and it wasn’t anything urgent; surely, Alfonzo wouldn’t mind if Link took longer to complete his task if he found out that Zelda was involved.

“No, not anymore. I’m free now.” He smiled to hide the lie, which Zelda bought anyway.

The girl punched the air in celebration. Link half-expected the princess to bolt out of the room right that moment with him in tow like she had done earlier, but was thankful to see that wasn’t running out yet.

“So, where would you like to go, Your Highness?” The engineer wiggled his eyebrows at Zelda as her formal title rolled out of his tongue.

The princess rolled her eyes and poked one of his sides a few times to tickle him, making Link cover that vulnerable section and Zelda drew back her hand, satisfied on the inside that she was able to get back at the other teen. She held her chin on one of her hands, taking on a pose of thought as she hummed and wondered where she wanted to go.

“How about you take me to Aboda Village? I want to know more about you.”

Link stared at her with a face of confusion, but ultimately didn’t question her decision like he first intended to.

“If that’s where you wanna go, then I’ll take you there.”

“Great! It’s time to go, then.” Zelda was beginning to head out, but Link didn’t follow her as a question of importance spun in his head.

“Zelda, wait. Don’t you need a guard to go with you?”

“Under regular circumstances, I would. But since I’m going with you, you’ll be my escort this time.” The princess stated as if she weren’t talking about something important at all.

“You can do that?! Are you sure?” Link’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I have more freedom now that a certain someone isn’t here anymore, so I fully make the rules now! Well, I do for the most part…” The last sentence coming out in a whisper.

“I trust you, Link. You saved my life before, and I know you’d do it again if you had to. Just like I’d do the same for you in a heartbeat if it ever came to it.”

The hero was left speechless, body unmoving as several feelings ran through his head.

“And if anyone were to doubt you, I’ll be there to remind them why you’re more capable than any other swordsman in New Hyrule! If you had chosen to become part of the castle guard, you’d have ended as my personal body guard.”

Link let out a giggle of joy and took the princess’s hand in his, feeling more determined than he ever had before.

“Well, Your Highness, you’re in luck that I keep my sword in my train. Now let’s go back to adventure!”

Zelda mentally pat herself on the back as she considered to have achieved a significant victory for the day. She was happy to see Link come out of his shell little by little, but she thought the cherry on top was to know that he was feeling confident. She nodded at him in approval with energy, while making it a new goal for herself to help Link have more of these moments. She believes that he very well deserves them more than anyone else.

[lazyvase]

This might be a hard question to answer, but have you thought about what TMNT 2036 would look like in terms of art style? Would you want it to be 2D animated or use 3D models? Would it be more "grungy" and geometric like 2012 and Mutant Mayhem, or more wild and expressive like Rise, or more grounded like 03? Is the style somehow completely new that it's hard to compare to the prior incarnations? Do you have any specific design notes for the specific characters that you didn't mention in your big post on the heroes? How "weird" do the turtles look, pretty standard or would they push the bar even further than Rise did in making them stand out? Splinter's always changes a lot, what's he supposed to look like?

Sorry if this is a tough thing to ask, I know it's hard to describe something like a visual style without any kind of existing reference. But I also wanna come as close as I can to getting the same mental image of this iteration that's in your hand, and... MAYBE no promises at all Whatsoever don't count on it, try to give it some manner of actual visual interpretation? I'd do it completely out of my own reading of what you've said already without me asking directly, but I felt the end result would be more accurate if I did.

Regardless, I'm excited to see what else you have in mind in general for this! For as fun as a franchise like TMNT is with how it reiterates old concepts in new ways, it's a little shocking to me I haven't seen more people suggest their own iterations. I'll be honest and say I'm a little baffled I haven't had any ideas for my own Turtles (though I DO have part of an Avengers incarnation I had some scattered ideas for, might get back to that eventually), so I'm very glad you're picking up the slack in that sense. I might chip in with potential ideas as I get them but for now I definitely wanna wait and hear what you have in mind for the basics first. Excited to hear more when you have it!

This IS a hard question to answer, but I don't mind at all (Thank you for the ask!). I don't have too much of a consistent style in my mind, but I do have a few stray thoughts.

In terms of design desire, I'd say it's most similar to TMNT 2012 (for obvious reasons) with the turtles being blatantly different, without it being exaggerated like Rise or arguably even Mutant Mayhem. They're rather bulky (TMNT 2012 levels of bulky with defined muscles). I don't know what exactly grungy looks like, but if it's anything like 2012/Mutant Mayhem then I suppose they are(?). I definitely can see the argument for a geometric art style (more in a bit). I would want them to look more standard. Yet my imagination has other plans.

I have no idea if it would be 2D or 3D animated.

I'll start with Mikey and Donnie for they share an interesting similarity: I can't stop seeing their Mutant Mayhem heads. Granted it's not exactly their Mutant Mayhem versions. My Mikey has a much bigger forehead, and has a skin tone much more similar to 2012. I really think it's his gangly/lanky body that remind me of the Mutant Mayhem version. Though I can also see my Mikey having his eyes more spaced apart. I'm actually kinda inspired by the original comics by having Mikey's forehead just be a lump on top of his head. Mikey is the tallest of the 4. Not sure how tall exactly. But his brother typically have to look UP at him. (Though if this gets changed to make their heights more consistent it's fine with me.)

(Just have his mask lower (like where this one's nose would be), and I'd think we'd be close to what's in my head.)

Also, despite me kinda picturing Mutant Mayhem Donnie, my Donnie DOES NOT HAVE GLASSES. I'm one of those people who don't like it when they add the classes to convey "nerd". Maybe a more circular head? I also want my Donnie to be kinda pathetic. He and Leo are about the same height. (Donnie may be slightly taller. Who knows.)

For Raph I have two main sources: @/nerves-nebula's drawings (warning: it heavily discusses and alludes to topics such as abuse/SA/incest, so proceed with your own caution). And Bowser Jr. In fact, whenever I imagine Raph, he's the only who doesn't have proper eyes. He just has two dots. Though for consistency sake its best if he does I imagine. To expand more on the Bowser Jr inspiration, he's also comically short. As big as Rise Raph is, 2036 Raph is small. He's like half the other turtle's height. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, I much prefer it when the turtles are about the same height (akin to 2012). On the other hand, this is so much funnier. It makes the moments when he FNAF jumpscares a Foot soldier or other enemy much funnier. It also allows him to bite onto some poor enemy's arm and force them to shake him off. Raph is the main reason why I kinda want to make the turtles different species of turtles, as he's so inconsistent from the others.

Raph's head kinda reminds me of Trappinch. The visible mouth/teeth outline is ESSENTIAL. HE CHOMPS!!!!!

Though ultimately it's for the best if Raph loses being the most cartoony for being more consistent with his brothers.

I have no clue for Leo. Mutant Mayhem kinda fits. But it's not perfect. I really only have vibes to go off of. He's a unique blend of 2003, 2012, and Mutant Mayhem. He takes everything as seriously as 2003, but doesn't have the authority to actually do anything about it. This results in him being kinda whiny.

The shell size for the turtles is the same as 2012. Gives them normalish body proportions. But still allows them to full retract. I'd also like the shells to look rather tough (maybe 2003 tough?), because, just like (of all inspirations) the Micheal Bay movies, the turtles are bullet proof. BUT ONLY WHEN RETRACTED IN THEIR SHELLS. Fun fact: Being bulletproof is what forces most of the villains to use laser guns and stuff because that's the only thing that could theoretical pierce their shells. Bullets don't work on Splinter either because he just Matrix-dodges them all.

Speaking of Splinter, he's heavily inspired by his 2012 version proportions wise. Very tall (though Mikey is as tall as he is). His fur is a light brown, akin to early incarnations. Most of his height is in his tall, thin legs. I don't know why I keep coming back to this design feature, but I think it's funny. Chicken legs Splinter. His most vital design element is his mouth (nose/snout?) being super long as well. This mostly so when he puts on his "human" disguise (just a bunch of human clothing hiding his features), his face mask is stretched out to the point in looks like a cone.

My April is heavily inspired by Mutant Mayhem April. She may be a bit more bottom-heavy than MM April. I'm also don't see 2036 wearing glasses, but if it completes the look then I don't mind. Now, the most important part is her hair. It is specifically the 2003 April's shade of red. She dyes it that way. Her hairstyle is inconsistent in my mind, but it often looks similar to 2003 April's due to color association. Though I imagine one of her bangs(?) being much much much longer on one side of her head than the other.

My Casey has the muscle mass of 1987, the hair of 2003, and the iconic gap tooth of 2012. I can see her head often being more oblong. She's often seen in gray/light-blue tank top, pridefully showing off her arms. As stated before, her hockey mask is painted with a skull featuring a large crack.

Now, as a bonus, I'll go over two villains I ever so briefly mentioned in the heroes post.

Baxter Stockman mostly resembles his 2003 design, although he has 2012's mustache.

Oroku Saki is also heavily inspired by his 2003 design. Though he also has a bit of 2003 Hamato Yoshi in him too. Given that's he's Splinter's owner and all that. I really want Saki to just look like a normal guy. His Shredder armor is also heavily inspired by 2003. Unlike 2012, there is not an inch of skin visible. The most important part of the 2003 inspiration is the fact that you can only see his glowing eyes in the mask, though they're pure white in this incarnation (like the fortnite skin).

I also really like this helmet design in general.

The most important part of 2036 Saki is that he has 2012's vambraces. Those are the coolest shit in media. I'll be damned if my Shredder doesn't have those exact ones. INCLUDE THEM!!!!.

Oh, and by the way, here's a visual teaser for another iconic TMNT villain in my incarnation:

Well that's about everything I can think of. Once again, thank you so much for the ask! It feels great to get all these clashing and conflicting design elements off my chest. It means so much to me that people are interested in my ideas. And don't worry, I already got three 2036 posts in the works. And I welcome any of your ideas.

[blockgamepirate]

So there’s another one of those cool Hermitcraft trivia posts circulating again which I kinda wanna reblog but also I’m feeling a little bit hesitant because some of the points seem maybe a little bit inaccurate or exaggerated? Like I’d like to fact check them first at least.

(Particularly what stuck out to me was the point about season two only happening because Joe did a coup, because that’s not how I understood that story the way Joe and Xisuma have told it? Or at least as far as I can remember... the impression I had was that Xisuma was mainly the person who took the initiative to keep the server going but Joe was one who broke the gridlock on whether or not they should add new members by just straight up inviting Cleo without asking the others.)

(So maybe a more accurate way to phrase it is that without Xisuma season 2 wouldn’t have happened, but without Joe, season 2 might not have had any new members. And at this point the only still currently active Hermits who were already on the server were X, Hypno and Joe, so the lineup could have turned out very differently, if the server had even survived past season 2.)

(I could be wrong but I’m pretty sure this is how I remember hearing it?)

But what actually annoyed me was this comment from someone (not OP, to be clear) in the notes:

(cut for discourse reasons)

#these people have been around for so long #compared to dsmp where its like new white guy who popped up in 2021 fully formed LMAO

(Don’t go looking for this please, and don’t harass this person, I’m just highlighting this because it’s an example of an attitude you see a lot. It’s not just this specific person who I don’t know at all and whose url I already forgot.)

So

1:

I don’t wanna start counting diversity points on each server like it’s a fucking game, but I DO wanna point out that the “white guy“ comment is pretty rich coming from a Hermitcraft fan.

Both servers have a white guy problem.

But at least with Dream SMP I can actually think of more than one creator who isn’t white, and it didn’t take them until season 2 to add a second female member...

(I know Hermitcraft is more of a private and closed group and they have extremely strict qualifications they demand from new members, plus every current member has veto power, so it’s much harder to add new Hermits than it is to add new DSMP members where it’s all decided by One Guy, but I think some frustration about this is still justified due to how big Hermitcraft is in the MCYT community.)

It’s also extremely annoying when apparently there was a whole thing where Hermit fans were insisting that Quackity is white during the sexyman polls?? Presumably just to excuse their shitty behaviour??? idek. (And I also heard on the other hand that there were some straight up racist comments made about Quackity as well. He literally cannot win, apparently.)

2:

What is this weird attitude towards new creators?? Yes, it’s cool that Hermitcraft has been around for over a decade and that the Hermits have all these cool histories in the community and even influenced the development of the game itself, but you can celebrate that without needing to put down new people, ffs.

I know it’s annoying when the new guys suddenly get more popular than your guys, but it happens, it’s the circle of YouTube. Please chill out. No need to be a hipster about it.

Besides, even if we don’t count people like Vikkstar who admittedly didn’t play on DSMP all that much, there were still people on the server who had long histories in the MCYT community:

Phil has been making Minecraft videos at least since 2012, when he started his first Hardcore Series, and holds the record for the longest running hardcore world to date. There’s a splash text in Minecraft referencing him (”Ph1lzA had a good run!”)

Techno started his channel in 2013 and was part of the Hypixel player council (or was it called the Elite Team back then? Not sure) since he was like 14 or 15, helping with testing and game design on many of the iconic Hypixel games before the server became the biggest Minecraft server in the world. He too has a splash text in the game (”Technoblade never dies!”)

BadBoyHalo has his own PVP server called MunchyMC which was launched in 2015 and before that he was part of the staff on a different PVP server.

Also while more recent, a whole bunch of DSMP members were also on SMP Live and SMP Earth back in 2019. In fact 2019 was when a lot of the DSMP members originally got their initial boost into popularity.

Honestly the only DSMP members who fit the description of “new white guy who popped up in 2021“ are like... probably Foolish and BoomerNA??

3:

I think you probably meant 2020 anyway, because that’s when Dream, George, Sapnap, Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo became popular. I assume so anyway because those are usually the white guys people actually seem to be talking about when they talk about DSMP white guys. (Obligatory note that Ranboo is in fact nonbinary though.)

tl;dr:

You can just hype up the Hermits and just not say anything about DSMP. That’s an option. Especially if you clearly don’t know that much about DSMP.

[anthonybialy]

Back to Not Abnormal

Most people would claim to prefer sanity.  Thinking clearly seems logical unless you’re insane.  There’s a good test if anyone’s worried about being infected.  Discarding maniacal idiocy is apparently the wisest course.  If you are familiar with many of humanity’s regrettable tendencies, you understand why there’s no certainty.  We tried out lunacy just to see if we enjoyed it.  Keeping an open mind allows for new experiences even if trying once turns out to be sufficient.

You’re no longer deemed racist for existing, which is nice in the way no longer hitting yourself on the head with a claw hammer feels better by comparison.  One scumbag cop kneeling on a suspect’s neck is no longer valid as an excuse for telling one race of people to pipe down and listen as if another is more authentic in its experience.  You can fill in any group and it’s wrong, which is a way to check.

Grievances aren’t necessarily accurate.  Take how in this case they were totally inaccurate.  The sort of subjective beings who say things like “My truth” may not perceive reality with clarity.  Admitting to subjectivity is a good start even if it’s inadvertent.  Pent-up venters just happen to be the same ones who think Hamas represents the persecuted and this White House has made everyone rich just because the dollar figures seem so high.

Government will cure you, according to countless epitaphs.  It turns out coerced care is the precise opposite of compassionate, what with creating shortages while raising prices.  Micromanaging your breathing and associating only sound like exaggerations.

Getting up in your grill doesn’t just apply to nasty flus inflicted by inept supervillains.  Violating the health of your liberties leads to your physical being declining, too.  Deciding something others provide for you is a right leads to it becoming unobtainable.   Other than the philosophical and practical failures, everything works out.

Billing the collective is a bad way to get goods.  Stuff is supposed to become affordable by billing all of us, meaning others.  Forcing the collective to pay results in an unwieldy cost burden where people either pay ridiculous prices that inevitably result from removing competition or force anyone who makes more to pay way more in taxes, which results in a downturn of spending and hiring.  You can’t choose which way coercion causes ironic woe.

The notion that government is good at anything at all runs counter to every moment we’ve endured, so at least ceaseless suffering had a purpose.  The incumbent claims to have experience yet runs against it.  Aren’t you enjoying your newfound wealth?  There’s the little catch of how we’ve been handed Monopoly money, with the difference being it’s fun to outfox art history majors who think gentrifying Marvin Gardens with hotels would displace the indigent.  A game where entrepreneurs must put others out of business defines liberalism as much as the way they’re terrible at it.

The notion that politicians should seize lucre in order to spend wisely never made sense.  But we tried it just to make sure.  The rather pushy redistribution wasn’t voluntarily, of course, unless signing over one’s autonomy permanently is the consequence of voting once.  That’s Democratic policy.

Coerced cooperation was always preposterous.  The ominous notion now features the immediacy of many horrid examples.  Thank Joe Biden for disproving everything he believes.  

Seeing results is bad news for the theoretically-minded.  Self-branded intellectuals can’t even think of appealing schemes.  Patent claptrap has been inflicted upon everyone for a couple years as part of a rather dubious trend that’s hopefully never treated as a throwback.  We live under a government that’s only semi-skilled at stopping crime, which is the one task it’s neglected.  One of its very few actual assigned roles has been swapped out for ensuring diversity.  Risk is ubiquitous for equality.

Everyone was benefiting from open markets and locked prisons to the point that ingrates decided the solutions were the problems.  The unappreciative naturally kvetch about what allows them to idle.

Removing safeguards went as well as declaring politicians are better at spending than whoever earned the money in question, which is to say not very.  Take a look at who decided what we didn’t need luxuries like autonomy to learn why letting someone else make decisions is a very bad idea.  Biden’s staffers are so bad at being productive that they had to find work hassling those who are.

This decade is not just an experiment to see how woeful life can get, although that was the result.  Change for the sake of it needs specifics.  Imposing daily burdens differs entirely from preserving fantastically counterproductive mandatory programs with coerced funding.

Anyone sick of feeling perpetually fed up might even get to the point where they seek a president who suggests you can choose things for yourself.  All it took was trying the opposite.  Voters consented, once.

[anneapocalypse]

Mark Darrah's Memories and Lessons from Dragon Age 2

Mark Darrah, former BioWare developer and Executive Producer, talks about the development of Dragon Age 2.

Summary of key points below the cut!

EA closed the sale on BioWare right before Origins shipped. At the time, MMOs were seen as the future and EA wanted Star Wars: The Old Republic, which was currently in development and scheduled to ship in 2009, but delayed several times. Because of the delay, EA told BioWare they needed to ship a game in fiscal 2011 to "plug the hole." It was decided that Dragon Age 2 would be that game.

Darrah says you can never be sure how real the threats are from higher up, but this one seemed pretty real, and if they hadn't shipped a game, EA likely would have demanded cost-cutting measures for the studio.

The original plans for the second Dragon Age game looked a lot more like what eventually became Inquisition. That concept wasn't possible in the time they had.

Preliminary work had been done for another expansion pack for DAO, and much of this concept got rolled into DA2. However, Darrah resists the idea that DA2 was "built out of an expansion pack" because he feels it minimizes how much work the team did in a short period of time. It is true that David Gaider had already laid a lot of groundwork for the expansion, but there were also no assets or levels created yet.

The team originally wanted to call the game Dragon Age: Exodus, which Mark still believes would fit the game better and would have helped it find its audience better. The implication that DA2 was a direct sequel to DAO set a lot of expectations that were not accurate, and they set people up for disappointment that was in some cases, he feels, unjustified. The name "Dragon Age 2" was a mandate from above; the executive at the time insisted that "Dragon Age 2" would sell better, would fix everything, would "probably cure cancer," and so that was the title. "They were wrong," Darrah says, but the team couldn't override the exec.

Darrah likes the frame narrative, both for the punchy opening it allows and the unreliable narrator:

I love unreliable narrators in general. Dragon Age uses unreliable narrators for everything. The reason I love unreliable narrators is that it allows you to present information through the lens of someone who could be wrong, or intentionally misleading. 'Brother Genitivi says…' is how most lore in Dragon Age: Origins is presented, and what that allows you to do is have him be wrong, mislead the player on purpose, or sometimes just give yourself the flexibility to change your mind, in order to change the lore, change the universe around that established lore without actually violating it, because it's an unreliable narrator.

But the cool thing is, you actually get all of that while also deepening the sense of your setting being lived in by real human beings. When information is presented by an unreliable narrator, it's presented by a person within the setting. It's not just sterile information dumped into a Codex; it comes with this implication of story and life that doesn't come from other ways of presenting information. To my mind, it's actually win-win across the board; it gives you extra flexibility, while also making the setting feel more alive.

A frame narrative can have the problem of draining some of the tension, because you know that the narrator has to survive. DA2 gets around this by having Varric narrate; you know Varric lives, but Hawke could have died.

Darrah acknowledges that the trick where they increased Bethany's bust size in Varric's exaggerated prologue was juvenile, and while he thinks it's in-character for Varric, he also doesn't think it adds much to the character and says that they probably wouldn't do that today.

They were able to control scope on the project by making DA2 a story told over time, instead of over a lot of space. This allowed them to get more story out of less area.

DA2 had very little peelable scope, which refers to having elements that are easily removed when cuts need to be made. Nearly everything that was initially conceived was conceived as necessary; everything that could be cut was cut right away.

The idea of Act I was a metaplot about gathering enough resources for the expedition, so that it could grow or shrink as needed. But they ended up needing to introduce a lot of plot points and character-establishing quests in Act I, so the "raise enough money" plot became secondary, because by doing the other essential quests, you would earn the money as a byproduct, which made Act I feel less open and exploratory.

Darrah feels that DA2 in some ways shows why constraints are important, because it's a great example of a team rising to the challenge to work within the space they're given to make a good game within that box.

Tactical camera was set aside for DA2. Darrah doesn't feel that it's a core feature of the series.

Things he does feel define the series are teamwork, choices with consequences, and power with a price, among other things.

"It's about the characters, stupid":

The primary reason that I think Dragon Age 2 is the Dragon Age game that’s very fashionable to like now is because it’s the first BioWare game that intentionally puts the characters first. I still don’t think we’ve actually said it out loud, that "It’s about the characters, stupid," that BioWare’s secret sauce is characters and followers that you can have these relationships with. I still don’t think that we’re really acknowledging it. We’re doing it because we have no other choice. Characters are fast to write; characters don’t require as many re-writes, typically; characters can often do their plot in whatever level is hanging around. So they are perfect for a highly constrained situation.

As you go beyond this game, as you get even past Dragon Age: Inquisition— yeah, the reality is, is this is what makes BioWare games special. Characters that are interesting, that have interesting interactions, that have arcs and evolution and wants and needs, that you get to have a story with, that you get to hang out with, that you get to potentially romance. This is the secret of BioWare games and it’s, in retrospect, kind of mindboggling that it wasn’t until a post-Dragon Age: Inquisition world that BioWare was really able to say this out loud and say "It’s about the characters, stupid. It’s always been about the characters, stupid." Why did we allow this to be an incidental feature that was special in spite of the intention that was being paid to it? So I think Dragon Age 2 is the game that shows the way to what made BioWare special in the first place, and what continues to hopefully make BioWare special in the future. That’s the special thing in Dragon Age 2.

Darrah thinks the level reuse in terms of telling a story through time in the same city is fine, even if not everybody likes it; it's upfront about what it's doing. The generic warehouse isn't ideal, but it's okay. The one he thinks is less defensible is the cave, because the cave is too distinctive, despite being identified as a different cave every time, and it's not just recognizable as reuse but "rubbing your nose in it." A more generic cave would actually have been better.

In terms of art direction, Dragon Age 2 was pushed toward a more distinctive look. In part, this is a response to the engine itself, which is very good at pushing polygons and large amounts of mesh, but less good at surface effects and textures. So between "push more polygons," and a vision of "Kurosawa in the Northern Renaissance," the art style of DA2 took shape. Darrah likes that DA2 has a distinct aesthetic that you can recognize from a screenshot.

Another major change from DAO was “the philosophical approach to combat.” The underlying combat engine is the same; it’s just packaged differently. Origins uses a combat balance known as “perfect symmetry”—enemies do the same amount of damage as the player character and allies. DA2 throws out the idea of symmetry. The player character and party members have fewer hit points and do more damage; enemies have more hit points and do less damage. This opens up more possibilities for player abilities, but creates problems if you want to turn party member against the player or have enemies join the party. Darrah thinks DA2 pushes it a bit too far because it makes the combat herder to understand numerically. Dragon Age: Inquisition tried to strike a blance between the two: not perfectly symmetrical, but not so dramatically asymmetrical. (He notes that D&D went through a similar transition between 3e and 5e.)

“EA has always had trouble marketing BioWare games.” For DA2, the marketing was intended to be two-pronged, one prong aimed at the “tree house” (the established fans) and the “frat house” (a new, mainstream audience). Right off the bat Darrah cautions about using reductive labels like this. In the end, he says, pretty much all the marketing ended up targeting the “frat house,” so that was all the marketing the fans were consuming and that made them worried that the game would be “dumbed down” and more console-focused. This set up the core audience to reject the game even harder than it deserved. More targeting of the core audience might have helped, but Darrah also points out that your devoted core fans are going to consume all the marketing, whether it’s intended for them or not.

The marketing team for DA2 did a lot of things to “juice up” the preorder numbers, which gave the impression that the game was going to sell a lot better than it did.

Darrah’s greatest regret for DA2 is that the ending forces you to fight both bosses either way—which he’s pretty sure was his decision, but he believes it was a mistake. It was felt that Orsino wasn’t worthy of being an end boss by himself, so it was decided that the player would fight Meredith either way, which he thinks is defensible. The problem is that they also make the player fight Orsino either way. Darrah says there’s often a desire to have the player consume as much content as possible, because it can feel like “waste” otherwise; he argues that players not consuming all the content isn’t a problem, and is actually a good thing.

Despite the backlash, over time DA2 has become the one that it is “fashionable to like.” With some distance from the marketing and the initial backlash, a lot of people came to appreciate what was good about DA2, particularly the strong focus on characters.

DA2 has Darrah’s favorite box art, even though it does commit what he calls the “cardinal sin” of RPG box art in locking down the player character into a single default appearance. He says that box art doesn’t matter as much as it used to, but he believes it’s still important.

The Dragon Age team became a true team through the work on DA2. Darrah wouldn’t recommend the kind of rush DA2 had, but he likes what it forged the team into and wonders whether that experience could be replicated in a different way.

What would Mark do differently?

If they had stay within the same constraints:

Adjust the marketing and make sure there’s better messaging to the core fanbase to mitigate the negative reaction.

Call the game Dragon Age: Exodus.

Don’t make Orsino a mandatory bossfight.

Make a more generic cave for reuse.

If they had more time:

Ship the next fiscal year, damn the consequences.

Cut or simplify the main plot parts of Act I and bring back the focus on making money for the expedition.

Make a second cave.

Reduce the asymmetry of the combat system a bit.

Mask out the unused parts of reused area maps.

The game is still very different from Origins, and that’s okay, just communicate with the core fanbase to help them understand why.