#they are both so different yet exactly the same as I draw them-

[maxpaulll]

I was going through some old notebooks and found the first times I drew Tank & Sam :’)

[vampiricgf]

— v. lycaon | BRAND NEW CHERRY FLAVOR

warnings : fem reader, ignore that we don't know his age exactly im guessing, ruts, knotting for the first time, rina is mentioned but only because she's meddling, fingering, masturbation, begging, reader is smaller than him, reader has a tramp stamp, virgin lycaon, cervix fucking, biting/marking, blood/blood licking, creampie, crying, sorry if I missed anything

wc : 2.5k+

this is so long im sorry im too obsessed with the idea of him being a virgin lmao >.< also sorry if there's mistakes it's not edited so

He thought upon hiring you on with Victoria Housekeeping things would largely remain the same, the only difference being having one more person with whom to split the existing workload of clientele contracts and commissions. An easy choice thinking of himself and Rina, the primary adults within the company.

It had been difficult as of late, he could acknowledge that, balancing taking on the bulk of the work while the companies other two employees attended their schooling and other engagements that typically keep younger people occupied. And truly he didn't mind it, it was the duty of those older to pick up the slack, allow youth it's time to blossom and explore.

That was not the issue, though. The issue was you.

Not your work performance, no that was impeccable. You had impressed him enough during your interviews but in practical work you went even beyond that, showing an exemplary aptitude for even the most banal tasks. The picture of a perfectly competent maid and (occasional) hollow raider. Even able to both meet and exceed his own impossibly high standards per all the glowing reviews he receives from clients, truly you were a fantastic addition to the company.

The problem arose months ago, when you two had been tasked with a more unconventional commission involving a hollow. Of course danger was always ever present in those ether soaked spaces, both from the impending malformed creatures that called them home and from the levels of ether itself. The risk of warping and twisting the body into a cruel mockery of what once was, imbibing it with sickness.

It was the first time you'd actually worked side by side, he'd asked you to come with him as a sort of test not because he thought he really needed the backup. See how you'd been progressing, what you were like on the job, that sort of thing. A completely normal request for a boss to make, all things considered.

What had not been normal was allowing himself to be caught on the back foot, surprised. You were... painfully distracting to him. A major shortcoming on his part, it was nothing you were doing overtly to draw his attention in such a laser focused way it just seemed like he had a bizarre inclination to keep his attention on you. The way you walked, that delicious sway of your hips. That thing you did when you were thinking, running your thumb across your bottom lip. The smell of shampoo clinging to your hair and wafting over him every time you so much as turned your head. Sugary, faintly floral. Horribly distracting.

Giving some stray hati a prime opportunity to pounce. Neither of you had noticed them creeping up on your perimeter, stalking you both as you picked through the skeletons of abandoned, crumbling homes and businesses. You too busy nervously chattering away and him too busy thinking about how much he enjoyed the sound of your voice.

One moment there had been nothing and in another there was everything happening all at once. Their predatory howls, the initiation of combat. The ring of your weapon as it hit against their stone manes, the crunch of his ice against newly exposed flesh. His eyes frantically trying to keep you in his line of sight at all times, take advantage of the path you left in your wake to give the finishing blow, giving yet another perfect opening for one of the creatures to tackle him full force, the brute strength of it slamming against his side and laying him out shamefully against cracked concrete, knocking the air from his lungs in a painful squeeze.

But there you had been, like some kind of avenging angel from artworks of the old civilization. Your features were highlighted by the look of sheer anger as you mercilessly dug the weapon in your hands into the creatures back, ripping away its advantage and successfully dispatching it within seconds. He could feel how wide his own eyes were, but felt too much acute discomfort to bother trying to mask his own awe.

Not since he was a pup had he needed rescuing.

Not since he was once so pathetically, terribly young had he felt so immediately endeared to someone else.

You were on your knees beside him, fussing over him, eyes sweeping around for any signs of injury or blood. He knew there was none, would have smelled it immediately, but nevertheless he allowed himself to enjoy your ministrations. The way your hands so carefully hovered over him, trying to be mindful of thiren preferences for touch while also trying to be caring, attentive. It was sickeningly sweet of you, made him swear for a second he could taste it in the air, feel granuals of sugar grinding within his teeth. He wondered if your lips tasted even half as sweetly.

"Are you hurt anywhere, should we leave the hollow? An emergency exit is understandable, right? If you're hurt?" Your eyes met him, practically welling over with concern.

He had wanted to hold your face in his hands, soothe you. Almost immediately he'd been gripped by the horror of his own impropriety.

Clearing his throat he took the hand you offered as leverage to get back on his feet, taking note of your warmth, the surprisingly strong grip of your fingers, before you withdrew. Soft, yet capable. Beautiful.

"There's no need. We can continue on with the commission." It took a monstrous effort to keep his voice neutral, act as if nothing of note was running rampant inside his head.

From the on the feelings he had towards you only grew, like a beast growing fat off plentiful prey. Every glance from you, every accidental touch of hands, every moment of conspiratorial laughter shared between you at something silly one of the others had done. Months and months of feeling his heart rate grow increasingly erratic every time your lovely voice would sound out in the mornings, always a perfectly cheerful greeting towards him and the others before you began your work.

And so here he is, mid rut and miserable. Thrusting into his own hand, as he's done so many times before, feeling the sweltering heat in his bedroom and bubbling frustration in his head at the feeling of tangled sheets and the distinct lack of any partner to be thrusting up into.

He'd called into work, voice twinged with embarrassment because how on earth had he forgotten about his incoming rut? Well, he knew how. Because you consumed almost every moment of his waking inner thoughts, distracted him to such an insane degree he failed to fill his suppressant prescription in time. Thankfully Rina hadn't needed details, always too clever by half, but it didn't stop him from feeling intense shame rolling through him even just knowing someone else knew what exactly was going on with him.

Sickness, uh huh. Try so horny and hard he could crack a brick wall in half. The thought made him feel so erratic he couldn't help but grab a nearby pillow, pressing it to his face, feeling his now neglected cock throbbing as he bit the soft down surface so hard he could feel his teeth punching right through the material.

You, you, you, you, you.

All he wants is to lap at what he's sure is the sweetest taste in the world nestled between your legs, feel your body stretching and accommodating his size, tell you how he's going to give you his knot and watch your pretty eyes glaze over and your breasts bounce in time with his thrusts, dig his teeth into your neck, your chest, make you squeal and squirm so he can pin you down-

A few distant, tentative raps against wood.

Did he imagine that?

Tap, tap, tap.

No, no he didn't. Who would be knocking in the middle of the day? Oh god, what if it was a neglected client that had tracked down his address? Someone angry one of the girls had forgotten or completely ignored their commission? His breathing was strained, nearly wheezing as he rushed to make himself somewhat presentable, cringing as he struggled to slide trousers over his impossibly obvious erection. No time to brush down his severely disarrayed fur. How humiliating.

As he scrambles for the front door, flinging it open so hard it nearly crashes against the wall, he freezes.

Why the hell are you here? How do you even know where he lives?

Your eyes go impossibly wide as you take him in, the awkward silence ballooning in the space between you and he's acutely aware of how crazed he must look as his claws dig into the metal of the door handle.

"I'm... I'm sorry for dropping in it's just that- well, Miss Rina told me you were sick and I kind of... begged for your address so I could come check on you, I'm sorry-"

You cut yourself off from rambling, picking at your nails as your eyes flit around nervously.

Of course Rina would give you his address, mischievous as she is. She knew exactly what was going on with his little juvenile crush, his rut. Calling in probably gave her the idea.

But all that was far from his most pressing concern at the moment. You couldn't be here, absolutely not. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore that familiar shampoo scent, trying to ignore the way you look especially lovely, how easy it would be to yank you inside and just-

"I appreciate your concern, but I'll be perfectly fine. I just need to rest." Blunt enough to make him feel bad for rejecting your kindness but the boundary needs to be in place before he does something highly inappropriate. You're coworkers, not casual friends. Every thought he has about you is crossing a line.

A snide inner voice comes out of the blue and he can't focus on what you're saying, too consumed by shame.

As if you'd even know what to do with her anyway.

It must show on his face, although you misunderstand it, because you give him a look of naked concern and he's snapped back into focus. "Do you need me to call a doctor for you? I have my car, I can take you to White Waves if you need to go Lycaon it's no problem-"

"No, no it's nothing that serious." He's losing control of the situation, needs to get you out of here.

"Well, at least let me make you tea or something to eat, please. You look like you haven't eaten all day." Your worried tone makes his pathetic resolve crumble easily, like it was made of sand.

Against his better judgement he relents, awkwardly stepping to the side to let you in the door and a part of him preens at the way your scent immediately compliments his own, mingling in the space as if you inherently belong there. If he had the energy to feel it he'd be embarrassed about the state of his apartment, in disarray as it is. But you don't pay any attention, immediately finding your way to his kitchen and digging through his cabinets like you've done it a thousand times.

Watching you makes him even harder, throbbing and aching so acutely in his pants that his vision momentarily goes fuzzy at the edges. You look so domestic, so relaxed. A bolt of jealousy fires off in his brain, white hot, at the fact that numerous clients have gotten to see you in a similar way before him. Your casual clothes aren't helping him keep control of himself either.

Jeans that accentuate the swell of your ass, the shape of your hips. A tank top that's ridden up slightly, exposing a bit of your stomach as you stretch up to reach the higher spots in a cabinet. He wants to run his tongue over your belly, lick his way up to your chest, leave little love bites across your throat. As you turn to the counter beside the stove he catches a glimpse of a tattoo on your lower back and his jaw flexes so tightly he's shocked his teeth don't shatter in his mouth. He never knew you had one, but it certainly suits you. He wants to know if you have any more, in any hidden places.

"You should lay down, I can bring this to you when its finished," you say it so gently but he can't bring himself to move away, to risk missing a single glimpse of you.

He says nothing and you don't try to press him, to your credit. But when you can't quite reach the top of another cabinet, where hes kept tea tucked away neatly, his instincts to help take over before he can register that his body has moved beside you, hand going over top of yours to easily grab the box. But the way your forearms brush on the way back down makes him drop the box, a shockingly loud clatter that causes a dozen deep fissures to spread in his mind.

He's got ahold of your wrist before you can react, keeping you so physically close to himself that if he took a half step forward you'd be chest to chest. He can smell sugar on your breath, see the red twinge on your tongue from candy you must've had on the way over.

It doesn't even register that his eyes are closed, that your mouth is on his, that his tongue is lapping up the secondhand taste of cherries as it slides across yours and your fingers grasp the rumpled fabric of his shirt. It's like a moment suspended in cut crystal, refracted in a thousand different ways to the outside observer, a million different angles of this one frozen scene, and he wants to hold it forever in his hands.

Hold you forever.

But you pull away and his first instinct is to follow after you, body bending even further to chase your lips as you struggle to catch your breath. Your bodies remain impossibly close as you speak, his eyes never leaving your lips, memorizing the curve of them.

"I don't- I didn't mean-" you're struggling and he can't bear it, can't bear the thought that this one beautiful moment is tainted by the nature of your overall relationship as employees, even worse is that he truly doesn't care. It should scandalize him, shame him in some way, but it doesn't. That fact feels extremely far removed from his current reality and the feeling of even more blood rushing to his lower body.

He cuts you off bluntly. "How much do you know about beast thirens?"

You gape, having been cut off with what is to your view an extremely out of place question but he's hoping you'll follow the thread. "What?"

"How much do you know? Because Rina wasn't exactly... truthful with you." His eyes skirt away from your face but hes committed to telling you what's going on. "I'm not ill, not in the way you're thinking. I'm, well, going through what's called a rut." There's a heavy pause. "The need to... mate."

He cringes internally on the final word, finally meeting your eyes and watching you put it all together. Your own eyes are adorably wide, but you don't pull away from him and that takes him by surprise. He'd figured the second you knew you'd be in a rush to leave, probably drop a resignation call to Victoria Housekeeping on your way home.

But you don't do any of those things, merely taking it in and continuing to let your eyes travel over his unkempt appearance and he's even more aware, if that's possible, of how needy he feels. Any longer without relief and he just might need to take himself to White Waves Hospital. But that's not your problem.

"I mean... That's just a natural thing for you, right? It's not like you're some perv," you laugh nervously, "and maybe- maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you had a little... help?"

His brain feels like a damaged, glitching bangboo. Are you seriously offering this?

"What I'm trying to say is that I- I like you, and I don't care that we kissed. Well, I care but I'm not upset by it. And I'm not upset that you're, like this right now," you gesture with your chin, "and if you need someone then... I can help you with it. If you want." You finish in a rush, clearly embarrassed and something rears its head deep in his stomach.

There's no more room for coherent though as he finds your lips again, nipping at the bottom one before taking advantage of your little gasp to slide his tongue back in your mouth. He turns you slightly, so your back meets the edge of the countertop with his hands massaging at your hips, groping obscenely at your ass. The barrier of your clothes is frustrating, making him growl low in his throat before he's deftly unbuttoning and unzipping them, fingers trembling at you help push them and your underwear down to puddle at your ankles.

You squeal as he lifts you easily to set you atop the counter spreading your legs in his firm grip while your own fingers curl around the marble edge of the counter, gasping as he kisses and sucks against the flesh of your inner thighs as he makes his way towards your pussy. He can smell how aroused you are and it spurs his instincts on, despite the sliver of anxiety working against his lust.

He's marveling at you, sliding two fingers through your wetness, spreading you to see the way you glisten with the slick liquid and he can feel your eyes on him.

"I've, I'm sorry, I've just never been with anyone." The last half of the sentence is heavy on his tongue, one crimson eye shyly avoiding your own before you reach down to cup his face in one hand.

The small smile on your face is sweet, purely gentle and it eases the nerves gnawing at his stomach.

"Never?" He shakes his head and you tilt your head to the side, "Then just watch for a second."

And it's mesmerizing, the way your fingers delicately dip down into your own wetness, dragging up to your clit before your fingers start slowly circling. He watches intently, watching the way your pace slowly builds, your hips twitching ever so slightly at the stimulation before you move back down and slide those two fingers inside yourself.

And the sight is like something religious to him, totally enraptured at the way your pussy swallows the two digits, the way your head tips back and your lips part in a silent sigh. It's not long before the soft squelching sound of your fingers scissoring against your walls reaches his ears, making them flick as he zeros in on it.

With a breathy laugh you pull your hand away but before it gets out of reach he grabs it, bringing your soaked fingers to his mouth before locking eyes with you, tongue tasting every bit of yourself that lingers against the skin.

He thinks your demonstration was a good enough starting point, no longer too nervous as his tongue starts licking long stripes up your pussy and you let out a high pitched sound at the contact. It makes him eager to please, focusing all his attention on licking and sucking at your clit while his fingers find your entrance.

The stretch of you is better than anything his imagination could've conjured up, feeling your walls part around his digits as he gives a few experimental curls and strokes. He can hear you nearly choking on your own noises above him and it sends satisfaction oozing through his body, washing over him like thick drops of syrup.

But he's impatient, whining against your cunt and you seem to know what he needs without him even voicing it. Just another reason to be so enamored with you.

You drag him up to stand, hands urging him to strip and he does so gladly, nearly jumping out of his own skin he's so flush with excitement at having you soaking wet and ready to take him, right there in the middle of his kitchen.

It makes his head spin as his cock springs free, groaning as he feels the air against his overly sensitive girth. Your mouth opens slightly as you take in the sight of him and that earlier shyness returns with a vengeance, but before he can speak your hand wraps around him, barely able to grasp all of him. The surge of pride is something he's entirely unfamiliar with but he relishes in it all the same, desperately wants to please you.

"Just try to start slow, okay?" You say, breath hitching in your throat as you guide the head of his cock through your folds before positioning him at your entrance.

And he takes the lead flawlessly, one hand against the counter to anchor himself and the other gripping your thighs, kneading the soft flesh between his fingers as he pushes in. It's torturous, the howling need to just slam right into you as he feels his head sitting heavy and thick inside you, your breathing already ragged and your eyes fluttering closed.

But he knows this requires patience, for the moment. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, hurt the trust you've placed in him, so his hips move barely an inch at a time and the feeling of your body reshaping itself around his cock is one hundred times more incredible than just his fingers.

What a pathetic comparison his hand ever was, the real thing will never be beaten out. Your whimpers increase in frequency as the head of him kisses your cervix, his swollen knot nestled tightly between his own body and your slick pussy. As he looks down at your connected bodies he can't help but wonder if you'll even have the ability to take it, but he doesn't get to give it much more thought because you start slowly wiggling your hips, encouraging him to move.

And once again he follows your lead like it was the only role he was meant for, pulling out with agonizing gentleness before pushing himself back inside you and he can't help the way his mouth drops open, the way his eyes screw shut. Does it feel like this for everyone, like they've died on the spot and been given an express ticket to heaven?

He doesn't have the wherewithall to feel any embarrassment at the way he's panting, nearly drooling on you, the way he's keening and growling like some fledgling but you don't seem to mind it. Not with your fingers digging into his fur, your legs loosely locked around his hips, the way you say his name in a half gasp.

His fingers slide down between your bodies as you pull him closer, into a heated kiss made of teeth clacking together and tongues pushing against one another. He swallows your every noise as he starts playing with your clit, just the way he watched you do it earlier. Rubbing sticky little hearts against it and nipping at your lips as your legs jerking, the muscles straining and flexing beneath the skin.

His canines scrape a path from your mouth to your jaw to your throat as his hips pick up speed, jostling your body with so much force your cries take on a higher pitch and your fingers pull at his fur sharply, only adding to the overall sensory delight. He tests your tolerance with his teeth, shallow bites in between sucking on the skin of your throat, groaning as he feels your hand slide up to cup the back of his head, feels the flesh pull taut as you let your head tilt even further to the side.

Giving him permission. His mind is swimming through a black sea of pure instinct, running his tongue over the flesh in silent apology for the pain you'll experience but he won't pass up the opportunity. You're allowing him to indulge, playing to his base instincts. How could he not gobble up the bait? And with that loose thought his canines dig into you, the fine points of them puncturing the skin and a trickle of iron washes over his tongue.

You cry out, pussy immediately squeezing him in a stranglehold at the same time your fingers yank at his scruff but it's not to stop him, it's like the string of a bow being pulled all the way back. Your toes curl in midair, practically sobbing as your hips buck wildly and he thinks this must be it, this must be what a human is like when they cum.

Later he'll examine the fact that you came at exactly the moment he inflicted that little bit of pain on you but for now he's lost in it, hips moving in no particular rhythm anymore as he fucks you through your orgasm, fuck you through the impossible tightness of your cunt, and he can feel it like a second heartbeat fluttering in between your legs as his tongue slides against the blood threatening to drip down to your breast.

And all too soon he feels his balls tightening up, his knot throbbing in time with the pulsing of your cunt and his movements are cruel now, all fueled by pure instinct as he grinds and fucks into you with shameless desperation. His knot needs to be inside you before he cums, he can't spill anywhere but inside you.

And his clumsy, less than elegant method works when he feels that tight ring of muscle at your entrance stretch to its limits and the almost too snug pop of all of himself finally sliding inside. You hiccup on a particularly loud sob as it does, legs snapping against his hips with such finality he doesn't move against your hold, remains standing as his body shakes, his cock twitching as sticky spurts of cum flood your pussy, whining at the way your walls practically suck it all deeper inside, milking him so much it's overwhelming.

It goes on for so much longer than he ever thought possible, the sheer amount of cum making him feel dizzy, like he's lost blood and is teetering on the edge of passing out. But he can't focus on the feeling, instead guiltily kissing every part of your face he can, trying to wipe away the saltwater tracks and then cradling your head against his chest as you bury your face in his fur, feeling the way you're trying to even out your breathing.

You speak before he can, his tongue like a wad of wet cotton in his mouth.

"How- how long are we stuck together?" You manage to force the words out unsteadily, pulling back to meet his gaze before nuzzling your face against his jaw.

His heads still spinning as he answers. "I don't really know," he breathes in harshly, "I'm sorry if its uncomfortable."

He can feel you shake your head. "It's not," your voice becomes shy, still thick with the aftermath of your orgasm, "I like the feeling of you inside me."

He can't help the dopey smile that crosses his face, fingers stroking down your back as he ignores the way his legs shake, the way his knot pulses. When you're no longer tied together he'll need to lay down before he collapses on the spot.

Already that thought invites visions of clutching you to his chest while you straddle his hips, cock thrusting in and out of you at a volatile pace all over again. He'll make it up to you once the fog of lust is lifted, but you most likely won't be leaving this apartment in the coming days.

He'll have to remember to call in for you tomorrow, sure to hear Rinas smug voice on the other end of the line.

[torhues]

osamu miya.

"what do you think is the right way to ask someone out?" osamu's sudden question draws out your attention from your english assignment.

you take a moment to think, and while he thinks you're sorting out the most appropriate answers to his question, you're lost looking the answer to just one question that's plaguing your mind : should you tell him, or not?

"uh, who is it for?" you settle with the conclusion that he's asking that question out of curiosity. after all, you both are at an age where romance gradually becomes an integral parts of almost everyone's life.

out of all the years that you've known osamu— which is for around seven years for now— there has been only one time when you've seen him pursuing someone, and that was your best friend in middle school; and like the good friend you were, you helped the two of them confess to each other. you would walk to school and back, watching them holding hands, make plans without you because they were dating and it was understandable. you didn't mind, not at all, for you weren't in love with him at that point.

looking back now, you wonder if things would've turned out different if you hadn't helped your friend, or if you had realised your feelings a bit earlier. back then, you found it amusing to watch two people in love act like idiots, not knowing it'd all come back to you with a much larger impact.

"someone i like," he replies in his classic monotonous voice, as if he couldn't care less about not telling you who he has a crush on. it's exactly how it was back in middle school. had it not been for your friend, you wouldn't have known she was the one osamu had been planning to ask out all along. "goes to the same university as us, might even be in your biochem class,"

and your mind traces over the image of every single person in your class, crossing out the names that don't seem to fit osamu's taste in romantic partners. it's not the first time you're doing this. in fact, you've gotten used to figuring out whether he would be interested in someone just by looking at them. it's something you've learnt as you got better at hiding your feelings.

you've known him long enough to know who he might date yet still, couldn't bring yourself to believe that you could possibly have a chance with him.

"well, i can't tell you if i don't know the person," something about you makes osamu believe that you're a cupid. you're good at reading people, welcoming, albeit not so good at reaching out to strangers, but you are likeable, more than likeable, actually.

he has seen you set people up, including himself, and excluding yourself. the reason why you're not interested in pursuing someone anymore is beyond his comprehension. you have your fair share of knowledge about relationships, have dated a couple of guys before giving up altogether. it's not like your relationships didn't work, but it always seemed as if you were better off without them.

even while dating, it looks like your eyes are looking for someone else while being in someone's arms.

he sighs, putting down his phone. "just tell me what you like, people aren't much different after all,"

"uh, well, i hate public confessions and people who confess through calls and texts," which stands true for most the people out there. public confessions are more of a show off and confessing through texts is just, not enough. "also, i like to stay at home or be at some cafe so like, arcades, amusement parks and places like those aren't up to my liking either,"

you notice the smile on his face, along with the dreamy eyes and make him look prettier than he already is. frankly, the idea of osamu doing everything you like to ask someone else out hurts more than it should. you're probably not the only persons with those likes and dislikes. you know you should be happy for him and the person he likes because in the end, osamu is everything you, or anyone, could ask for.

"what about flowers? lilacs?" he asks, getting back to his phone.

"what are you doing, congratulating someone on their graduation?" his lips instantly curve into a frown, and you know in his head, he's snickering about how he is not the best when it comes to picking flowers, and that you shouldn't make fun of him for this. "i'd say tulips, they're a better gifts for first dates and confessions,"

one day, back in first year of university, osamu asked you why you don't seek relationships anymore. thinking about it now, you never gave him an absolute answer.

on some days, the answer would be academics, other days, it would be sadness looming over your shoulders after watching your ex with someone else. sometimes, you would excuse it by saying it's a waste of time and when asked when you're drunk, you'd say it's because you already have someone in mind, someone who can't be yours, no matter how much you try.

on some days, you wonder if osamu ever thinks about all the answers, or excuses, you gave to his question. there are times when the worlds makes compels you to believe that osamu likes you back, but then you realise that if he did, he wouldn't have asked out others all this time. you did drop hints regarding your feelings for him, and he failed to catch on for he for too busy looking at everyone except you.

"i wonder why you don't date anymore," the question arises again, flooding all the memories back into your head.

"i did have someone i liked, but he likes someone else," and you realise you can't lie to him anymore. "so, i gave up," osamu finds it amusing how you say those words with a smile, and he finds it despairing knowing that now, you've simply learnt to live with pain while pretending to be okay.

he shoots you a comforting smile, "i hope that wouldn't be the case for me,"

"me too," and you smile back.

he gets off your bed, picking up his jacket while offering soft apologies for the state your bed is in because of him. sometimes, you feel like there should be a warning for everyone who dates him : caution, this man doesn't know how to keep the bed clean. there are nights when you go to sleep thinking about how you're probably the only one who can keep up with this habit of his, and then wake up realising that it wasn't a problem to anyone it now so, it wouldn't be in future either.

it's like oscillating between the possibility and impossibility of him and you, caressing your little heart with false hope.

"ah, what should i say while confessing?" he shoots another question, making you snicker in annoyance.

"c'mon 'samu, you're not asking someone out for the first time,"

"just tell me,"

and you allow yourself to get lost in thoughts again. for a brief second, you consider telling him to not confess. the reason? your feelings, but again, you and him aren't meant to be together in the first place. it's just like how the saying goes— cupids must not fall in love— and you did the forbidden, knowing it would hurt you ten folds more every time you tie his threads with someone that's not you.

"i don't know, just give the flowers and ask if they'd like to go out with you or something," he chimes a faint thank you before leaving your room, and then your apartment. this time, you don't walk up to the door to see him off, neither do you wish him good luck, and surprisingly, osamu doesn't seem to notice your minute absence either.

it's fine, you tell yourself, one of you has to start getting accustomed to the other's absence. while the process has already begun for you, you hope osamu gets used to it as well. you need him to stop reaching you out for relationship advices because you don't know how long you can compose yourself before shattering once again. you try to distract yourself with essays due next month or even further, reading chapters that haven't been taught in class, reading research papers; just anything that can keep your mind off osamu.

you don't want to think about him, or what he's doing. maybe, he's buying the flowers, making preparations or calling his crush and asking them to meet him at their favourite place. even better if his crush confessed while he has been preparing a proposal of his own, it would be cinematic. you don't want to think about him at all, but the more you try, the deeper he engraves inside your mind.

the evening rolls by with you still sitting at your study desk with a bunch of papers lying around a not one complete work. there are rain splatters on your windows and you hope the off-season showers haven't ruined his confession. you can't wish for the other person to like him back, so you just wish for his happiness; whatever makes him happy, even if it means pushing him away.

and when you manage to drag yourself to the kitchen to grab something to eat and make yourself feel better, the sound of your doorbell hits your ears. the rain hits harder, you muster up the energy to walk up to the door.

there's osamu standing with a love sick smile and slightly wet hair, along with rain splatters on his shirt, and the bouquet of tulips in his hand. "will you go out with me?"

[reidmania]

Could you do a Derek Morgan x reader fic where they are soulmates and the reader is a Detective on a case?

unprofessional | derek morgan

summary ; when derek meets the detective on a case, he can’t help but feel a draw towards her — its unprofessional.

warnings; detective!fem!reader! mentions murder and rape, normal cm stuff. flirty flirty.

an ; i kinda hated how this turned out bc it was just not right whatsoever and i feel like i completely flunked the request but i can def rewrite it if u want!!

Your hands bushed over the case files as you set them down on the table, you were engrossed in a conversation with a police officer. You had been called in to help with a case along side the FBI BAU — yet they weren’t here yet.

Or so you thought, although you stood corrected when there was a knock at the door of the conference room you were standing in, turning around at the sound you looked up.

“Hello, Im Agent Aaron Hotchner from the bau” The male introduced, stepping inside the room, you watched as their team found there way in, shaking hands with the officer each, besides one guy who you had learnt the name of — Spencer Reid.

“This is our detective on the case” The officer introduced you before you took over, telling them your name and last name as you went down the line shaking each of their hands, skipping over Spencer — instead opting for a little wave out of respect.

You breath caught in your throat as you looked at the guy standing next to him — to say he was stunning was an understatement. You instantly felt the urge to gush about how he looked like a work of art — but you opted for keeping in professional.

“Derek Morgan” He introduced as he held his hand out, you wasted no time placing your hand into his, it consumed all your focus for a moment as you focused on the every rough callous in his soft hands, you could feel the indent on his trigger finger as it rested against the palm of your hand.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You said, once you regained your focus enough — you were glad it was quick enough— before the hand shake got too long and slightly awkward.

He shot a toothy grin in your direction as you stepped back, leaning against the conference table as you looked over the team, but your eyes kept wandering back to Derek Morgan.

“The case?” Hotch asked, stepping forward, instantly his team followed his movement, making themselves comfortable in the room to which they’d be spending a lot of time in.

“Two murders, both female victims. They were raped before their murders and both killed in the same way, a slit throat” You partly cringed as the image flooded your mind before you could stop it.

“Any similarities between the two victims?” Spencer spoke up, the officer looked over at you, making you stand quietly as you took the floor.

You had been working closely with the crime scene over the last few days before the bau were called in. You had taken notice of everything, every detail, everything there was to notice — you’d notice it.

“Physically, no. Expect they both had evident birth marks, ones easy to be seen, on arms or shoulders — it may be nothing but that was the only physical similarity besides them both being seemingly attractive” You walked around the table over to the board to hang up a few photos, close ups of the birth marks.

“And we are sure this is the same unsub?” You smiled when Derek spoke — not in a way that questioned your abilities but more pure curiosity to how you had gotten to that answer:

You nodded “Yep” popping the P in the end of your sentence as you held up a few more photos, sticking them to the whiteboard. “He left the name note next to their bodies, signed it off with a signature.” You said.

Emily chewed at her lip as she looked over the photo. “It looks printed” She noticed, a few of the other members looked over the photo at her notice.

“Exactly — but not fake, it’s a real signature. We did some digging — Well I did.” You muttered before opening a different case, you wet your thumb as you flicked through pages of paper, before pulling out a couple different sheets, placing them on the table for the agents to look over.

“Three online purchases were made with that signature.. on the same illegal website” You muttered as you flicked through some more paper. “Where he brought a knife from — the same sort of knife found used for the girls deaths, pharmaceuticals but like heavy ones — id say the names but im sure i’d just screw it up” You muttered as you placed the receipt on the table.

“It looks like you got this all figured out girly, what do you need us for” Derek asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back in his chair. You smiled widely at his comment, it felt complementary.

“Well as great as I am” You played along, “Im no fbi profiler. I don’t know who we are looking for, I just wanted to make your job as easy as possible” You smiled.

Derek smiled back just as widely, “Got anything else for us pretty?” He asked.

“Morgan” Hotch’s tone was laced with warning.

You knew what it was; it was the stop flirting tone.

“It’s okay” You nodded to Hotch, “I do actually” You said, leaning back against the whiteboard against the wall as you looked back at Derek. “The crime scenes were very similar but not close — distance wise. They both were in public area’s on the side of the road and both victims weren’t found until early mornings, but had been dead for nearly ten hours previously” You explained.

“So he dropped them during the night?” Elle asked, you nodded. “Well I assume so” You shrugged.

“Anything else?” Hotch asked, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked over the pages you had placed on the table.

“Yes — grains of the same coffee brand were found on the girls shirts and in their hair. Theres only one coffee shop that sells those beans but that is nearly an hour away from where the victims were found.”

“So either we have a coffee enthusiast who drives an hour for a specific brand of coffee, or someone who lives closer to the shop.” Spencer said, frowning slightly as he tried to think about all the possibilities.

“Coffee enthusiasts? You aren’t the unsub are you?” Derek asked, nudging Spencer’s side slightly, making you smile as Spencer took offence.

“Ill leave you guys be” You smiled as you excused yourself from the room, leaving to do another sweep of the crime scenes just to see if there was anything you missed.

It wasn’t until two days later you were back, you were instantly met with the smell of fresh coffee as you walked into the conference room to find it empty, besides Derek Morgan sitting there.

“Hey pretty, how’d ya go” He asked, sipping the cup of coffee in his hands as he leant back in his chair. You chuckled at the nickname before taking a seat on the other side of the table.

“Yeah— nothing new, which I expected because I don’t miss things” You sighed dramatically, your tone was evidence of the cockiness being a joke.

Derek beamed back at you. “I believe you. You had me fooled, i was questioning why we came here.” He teased lightly.

“Oh but Im no profiler, just a detective” You said, as if it was such a comparison. He chuckled lightly, “They aren’t all that different, im sure you could’ve figured this one out on your own — I think you just wanted the bau to come out so you could see me.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

You genuinely chuckled, “Oh no!!- you caught me. Derek Morgan — my hero” You played into his teasing meeting your match, placing your hand against your chest speaking with dramatic admiration.

He just grinned, “Where is everyone?” You asked, looking around the room.

“Who knows” He shrugged, before shaking his head “Nah- They went out to interview the victims families.” He said once he actually processed your question.

You nodded your head opening the casefile to read over it again, it was a habit you adapted to early in your career. It was easy to miss little things, and it was your job not to miss them.

“You all good?”?” Derek asked, you looked up for a moment noticing his eyes boring into yours — you wondered if he ever looked away once you did, or if his gaze stayed on you, his forearms were resting against the conference table.

You nodded your head, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Im all good.. Why? Do I not look all good” You asked, slightly worried maybe you came across upset or something — you weren’t. You were actually completely content

“No you look very good”

Your cheeks flushed at his compliment, making you shake your head, pulling away from his gaze as a smile tugged on the corner of your lips. “You’re a sweet talker.” You muttered.

He grinned widely as he leant back in his chair. “Yeah? Is it working?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Your stomach tugged slightly — you weren’t the type to get nervous nor intimidated yet you could feel your cheeks heating.

“Are you flirting with me, Agent Morgan?” You eyes flicked away from file, back up to meet his eyes, your eyes lingered on his own for a moment.

He shrugged, “Would that be unprofessional?” He asked, clocking his eyebrow as his head tilted to the side, you watched as his eyes trailed over his face.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I think we both knew the answer to that.” You reminded. Although you knew in the back of your mind, it was one case.

He hummed in reply but his eyes never left your face. “Okay.” He nodded, before sitting up a bit straighter, rubbing his hand gently over his lip before leaning forward against the table.

You smile, tilting your head the opposite direction that his was slightly tilted — there was something so enchanting about the way he looked at you, like there was something he couldn’t get out of his mind. — like he couldn’t get you out of his mind.

“Do we care that it’s unprofessional?” He asked, your eyes traveled slightly down his face as the question brought heat to your cheeks. Over the last couple of days there had been a lot of subtle and not so subtle flirting between the two of you, sometimes it wasn’t even intentional. you two just had such good banter.

“Do we?” You asked, not quite sure what to say. You didn’t entirely care, it was for one case that was almost completely solved anyways, but there was a look on your face that showed your evident doubt — it was unprofessional and there was an underlying amount of guilt that you buried, it was unprofessional and you carried yourself on being professional.

He seemed to notice, he didn’t push, or blame, instead he just smiled sweetly at you. “I think we might, just a little bit” He said. You appreciated the way he didn’t single you out.

You didn’t know what to say as you looked over his features, the way he grinned with such expression, the smile on his face matching his eyes.

“So..” He said, clapping his hands together. “To be completely professional.. How about once we finish this date I take you out.” He said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was nothing.

You smiled widely at his suggestion, respecting your boundaries while maintaining the banter and interest between you two — All while asking you out.

“I’d like that.”

[aashi-heartfilia]

Why do we need a Ochako and Hawks conversation before the manga ends

I've been waiting for their conversation for centuries! Like these two definitely need to talk.

Ochako managed to do something that Hawks couldn't do. Toga and Twice both were really nice people and it's just their quirks led them to despair and they both realised this.

Hawks didn't wanna kill Jin Bubaigawara but he did because in his way, he was trying to be a hero, so he brutally killed his own friend but then what kind of hero does that? In MHA, there's a very thin line between heroes and villains and that has been pointed out several times.

Even with Ochako and Toga. Remember when Toga told Ochako how she used Ochako's quirk to kill a bunch of people during their 2nd battle? Ochako was horrified. The same quirk that Ochako uses to make everyone's problems weightless quite literally was used to kill people.

Ochako and Toga are very similar. They're both very cute and shy, they love to tie their hair up in buns, and even love the same boy which is why when Ochako wasn't able to empathize with Toga, she was hurt because she thought at least chako would understand...

Horikoshi loves to draw parallels between certain characters and their storylines and one such beautiful parallel is this...when later on Ochako notices Toga's tears in the final battle.

"She loved seeing people happy. So of course she zeroed in on her tears"

Beautiful narration, amazing storytelling

It is a way for us as readers to tell that Ochako has now grown, as she is now seeing Toga as a person, not as a villain, just as a person who was sad and crying.

Like it's outright stated for us in the manga, so I don't understand people who think Ochako never got any character development because this is exactly where she differs from Hawks ideology.

Hawks was able to sacrifice Twice for the greater good, even if he himself regretted it later. The Public Safety Hero commission must have made him do other terrible things as well and he might have killed some more villains in secret just like Nagant.

We can cut him some slack though cause he was just following the orders, but then so did Ochako. Tsu even points it out, that killing Toga would have been much easier just like Hawks suggested, but her friend Ochako took a harder route and is trying to confront her.

Plus, Hawks had a chance to correct his mistake and yet when Twice (actually Toga) appeared in the battlefield again, his first instinct was to kill him.

MHA is not a story about killing people for greater good. We've seen in the latest chapter how both Dabi and Endeavour survived the war and while Dabi would live for only some time, he would have some moments of peace with his father. They can at least try to heal what was broken.

Killing twice was definitely not a good idea cause his will continued within Toga. She took her revenge and killed so many heroes on the same battlefield. As long as their despair and sadness is not confronted, the problem is not yet solved. We've seen it with Toga and Shigaraki.

Which is why I said that Ochako passed where Hawks failed.

Both Toga and Twice died, but at least Toga died smiling, happily to save someone she loved. Twice died to save his comrades while Toga sacrificed herself to save Ochako, an act of true love by the so-called villains.

And this needs to be addressed.

Plus there has been too much of a teaser about it...

Hawks witnessed the impact of Ochako's speech in ch 325. And she was the last thing that came to his mind before passing out...

Plus even their covers are a big parallel!

So with all that being said, if Ochako and Hawks didn't have a conversation before this manga ends, it would really be such a missed opportunity and quite a shame.

~Sunshine

[doromoni]

I hate you , right? | GR63

George Russell x Red Bull Driver! y/n

warnings : swearing

Summary : George was a little too attractive after the summer break.

“Oh fuck off Russell! Are you blind? Side mirrors are there for a reason! Learn to fucking use it! You almost cost me my race, dickhead!”

Y/N L/N the first ever female driver for the Red Bull racing team, only through sheer determination and hardheadedness was she able to achieve such an amazing feat.

Being the only female on the grid was hard enough as it is with misogyny and sexism biting at her rear , but adding a British asshole really did put the cherry on top on the cake of ass-hattery that Formula 1 offered.

“Not my fault you drive like a fucking lunatic, that turn was mine and you know it L/N! maybe next time learn how to actually drive rather than depending on your car”

The two drivers are at each other’s faces yet again . This had been a normal event, that even the teams have grown accustomed to the shouts and curses of each driver — whether its swearing at each other in the Red Bull garage or nearly pouncing and succumbing to physicalities at Mercedes. Y/N L/N and George Russell are sworn enemies in and off the racing track.

They used to be friends, best friends even. Both driving for the Mercedes driver academy with George racing in F2 while Y/N in F3. When George won the F2 championship, earning himself a seat at Williams ; Y/N then was promoted to a seat in F2 . A year later Y/N had won her own F2 championship, but no F1 seat was offered in Williams nor in Mercedes to the female driver. Another year had passed, George was offered a seat at Mercedes while Mercedes had no news for Y/N L/N. That was until a seat was offered by Red Bull — giving a shock to the whole motorsport world. As Y/N raced for the Red and Blue team , she had flourished and proved everyone who doubted her wrong.

No one knew how George and Y/N’s rivalry exactly started , but all hell broke loose when George collided with Y/N during the 1st lap and both had DNFed the race.

Y/N was furious and snapped , storming into the Mercedes garage straight to where the English driver was standing still holding onto his racing helmet— shoving him with all her strength into the garage wall. Their faces almost touching as unpleasant words were exchanged ; rendering both teams speechless and leaving them with a horrendous PR mess to clean up.

This time was no different. Y/N and George were at each other’s throat, only this time it was Y/N pinned to the wall inside George’s driver room . George tightening his grip on the Red Bull driver’s waist, leaning his full body weight on the girl who was squirming for release.

“What even is the problem Y/N? We’re both on the podium and you’re team got a 1-2. Stop being a child, it’s racing! What do you expect”

“My problem is you Russell! You’re so careless and aggressive, we could’ve crashed again. You never changed, George , you’re still the fucking same!”

George’s eyes darken as his face drew even closer to the female driver— his voice like honey, dripping as it lowered an octave.

“Yeah?!And you changed so fucking much, I don’t even recognize you anymore Y/N! Now all I see is a bitch obsessed with winning. Tough luck! You’re Verstappen’s teammate, you will always be second.”

Not backing down , Y/n drew herself closer to the english driver ,enough that their noses where touching. A teasing yet derisive smirk formed on her lip, tongue darting out wetting her lips. Catching George’s eyes , as it glanced down towards y/n lips.

“Oh how rich! Coming from the guy who’s living in Lewis Hamilton’s bloody shadow. Like I care what you see me as , you were blind from the very beginning.“

A deep chuckle vibrated in George’s chest , drawing shivers up Y/N’s back , as he said

“ I hate you”

“No, duh Sherlock. I hate you more”

His eyes quickly darting from her eyes to her lips , as if contemplating something. Having enough of his antics and taking matters into her own hands, Y/N fisted his Fireproofs as she brought him down to her level. As their Lips almost touched , rapid knocks on the door distracted them from their daze.

Suddenly realizing their positions , Y/n pushed George away from her. Fuming, the female driver parted ways and left the Mercedes garage with a huff ; wrapping up the first race of the seond half of the season with glares and silent threats. Not realizing what was on each other’s mind

“ Such a rude mouth, what i’d do to shut that up and get a taste”

“I need to control myself. I was ready to pounce on George and have my way with him. Damn him and his perfect hair and golden skin”

The Red Bull and Mercedes driver starting the other half season with pent up anger and sexual tension thick enough to suffocate.

[copperbadge]

I was making breakfast and listening to an episode of Just King Things this morning, which is a podcast I do recommend -- two very smart English teachers are reading the books of Stephen King in publication order and discussing them. This could go extremely awry except they're both highly conscious of his failings as well as his skill, so they do really well handling a lot of his less salutatory content.

They've hit the point in King's ouvre (this episode was about Hearts In Atlantis) that follows his recovery from the car accident that very nearly killed him, where he was struck by a van while out walking. One of them pointed out that it seems as though he came back from nearly dying determined to write the wildest shit imaginable and only write what he wanted, which struck a chord in me this time despite having listened to this episode before. Perhaps because I was thinking about my own writing and where it's going in the short term (there are a couple of short stories I want to do that I don't quite have a way into yet). I generally don't think about the drift of my creativity in the long term because when I do I usually draw the wrong conclusions.

I don't really classify my life, the way some people who've had high-impact injuries do, as before-TBI and after-TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury -- the fairly severe concussion I had in January of 2020). For one thing, given I had to cancel a trip to NYC because of it, it may have saved my life; I almost certainly would have caught COVID as someone with known lung issues in New York at the time. For another, the TBI was way scarier to almost everyone else; for me it was just one more dumb injury I gave myself and I didn't even remember most of it so it hardly registered. I used to open the story of it with a joke about waking up not remembering going to bed the night before, but nobody ever found it funny.

It's true that there are changes it wrought in my life, though. Even practical stuff like making sure my living space doesn't have tripping hazards and continuing to wear a fitbit even though I don't really need to (the fitbit told us, the morning after, exactly when the concussion happened, because it registered a heart-rate spike when I fell). For weeks after, I had to move slowly and put off making important decisions because I couldn't trust my physical or intellectual judgement; I didn't even jaywalk in my own neighborhood because I couldn't be sure I was judging the cars' speeds properly. For about a year after I had periodic post-concussion syndrome which basically just slammed me back into concussion space, which wasn't painful or upsetting but was definitely inconvenient.

And it's also undeniable that my writing shifted after the injury. It's not necessarily because of the injury, since my initial recovery from the TBI and the declaration of quarantine happened at roughly the same time, and anyone who tells you that a years-long global pandemic didn't impact their artistic expression is selling you a line. But the last thing I wrote before the TBI was the first draft of Six Harvests, and aside from the Six Harvests publication draft, which had fairly minimal changes, almost all that I've written has been blue-sky, light-hearted, PG-rated romance. It's been on my mind that I've been writing different subject matter from what I used to, but the timing of it didn't strike me until just recently.

I don't mind, really. I love fandom and I support fanfic in whatever expression it comes, but I'm also happy writing my own stories. While I'm aware it's been years since I've meaningfully written fanfic, it doesn't bother me per se, as long as I'm writing. It bothered me much more when I could write fanfic but not original fic, especially in those last few awful months at my last job. I'm proud of the literary and non-genre fiction I've written in the past, but it's also much more trying and frustrating to write at times, so I'm enjoying having a different sort of challenge that feels more fulfilling in the process. I'm sure at some point I'll go back to literary fiction -- there are ways in which it's hard to avoid turning the later Shivadh novels into literary fiction, being honest -- but for now I like what I'm writing, and I'm writing primarily to please myself and without regard to what's necessarily rational or linear.

Just struck me, is all, that it's by far the most noticeable major shift in my work. I do sort of wonder what will be next.

[pianokantzart]

The Dog Scene from The Super Mario Brothers Movie

Thank you @scribeprotra  for permitting me to unleash this. Followup to this post: X

First of all, this scene is the first time we get to see Mario do actual plumbing, and it establishes that this business isn’t just a pipe dream (ha ha). Mario is actually a really skilled plumber. He sees the problem, knows what to do in an instant, and wraps it all up in less than a minute. So later, when all of Brooklyn is flooded, and Mario laughs that the hired workers “aren’t even looking in the right place”, we can believe he knows what he’s talking about.

Then, comes trouble: Francis The Dog, Mario and Luigi’s first real adversary... a kind of tutorial boss fight. Foreman Spike was antagonistic, but he was all talk. He would bully, threaten, and get aggressive, but he wasn’t going to throw the first punch. Francis, however, is out for blood.

We see an echo of what happened earlier when they confronted Spike. Mario stands between Luigi and danger, pushing him back, ready to defend him. However, unlike Spike, Francis doesn’t walk away, he goes for the throat, and it throws both brothers off kilter. 

Luigi, while anxious and fearful, proves he’s not a man of mindless panic. When Francis comes at him he’s yelling for Mario’s help, but he himself is climbing to higher ground while grabbing the nearest available object (a toilet brush) to defend himself. This pattern continues for the rest of the movie: though he isn’t much of a fighter, his survival instincts are quite good. 

Mario, on the other hand, immediately turns combative when Francis goes after Luigi. He draws the dog���s attention, and they skirmish for a bit before Mario finally seals Francis off inside the shower. Mario is not exactly a warrior yet, but he definitely has good fighting instincts. 

Of course, let’s not forget Luigi holding off the jet of water with the mirror foreshadowing him holding back Bowser’s flames with the manhole cover. That’s been talked about before... I want to talk about THIS shot:

Mario is holding out a wrench like a sword, Luigi is holding up the mirror like a shield. That is them in a nutshell, and why they work so well together: they are sword and shield, offense and defense, impulse and caution, working together to balance each other out.

When Francis leaps at them, they instinctually hold on to each other for dear life, but still manage to duck out of the way at just the right moment as the dog accidentally flings himself out the window behind them. 

Despite the dog being a violent threat, he is also a beloved pet to the homeowners. So what does Mario do? He throws himself out the window after Francis. 

He trusts Luigi won’t let him fall, and he doesn’t. There was no time for a plan to be discussed, they were simply on the same wavelength. 

IN CONCLUSION: The dog scene is what introduces the audience to the very different ways Mario and Luigi react to danger. It also shows us how tight their bond is, and why they work off each other so well, even beyond the emotional support they provide each other. The one downside is that the scene hints at a really cool fighting dynamic that we didn’t have time to properly explore in the film. The next time Mario and Luigi are fighting side by side they’re effortlessly mowing down enemies with the power star, and the sword-shield dynamic is lost. But I’m very excited to see the future of how they work as a team now that we’ve established the setting and set the two up to become heroes. 

[animeyanderelover]

I am back once again in my Twilight mood and thought that I would write some poly!relationship with my 2 favorite vampires from the Cullens.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, manipulation, gaslighting, threats, stalking, overprotective behavior, isolation, death

Sharing a darling

Alice has definitely caught glimpses of you already in her vision. She knows that Jasper and her have another soulmate somewhere in the world but it is only when your parents decide to move to Forks that she is able to see the bigger picture of everything. She is certainly surprised to find out that that she and Jasper have another soulmate but she doesn't ponder too much about it. Instead she just feels very happy to know that you exist. Edward probably finds out before Jasper but only because he read Alice's mind. He also gives her an astonished look but soon cracks out a small smile as he knows that Alice feels happy about it. She tells Jasper as soon as she has had her vision and it is Jasper who is a tad bit more hesitant to fully grasp the situation. He has been with Alice for such a long time and he loves her so much so he has a hard time fathoming how he could possibly love someone the same way he adores her. He senses her happiness though about the situation so he silently accepts the future.

There is time to prepare for your arrival and it is time that passes by far too slowly for Alice. She's definitely giddy whilst thinking about your arrival and her joyous mood eventually also gets through Jasper who starts looking forward to seeing you, even if he is still a tad bit cautious about all of this. Alice loves telling him what she has seen in her vision and even draws you so that Jasper can see just how cute you are. Alice makes sure that Jasper and her dress up especially well as soon as she knows when exactly you will arrive and where exactly both of them will meet you. She's so eager as she drags Jasper with her on that day and whilst Jasper isn't exactly feeling as optimistic as she is, he doesn't have the heart to deny her what she wants. Both of them don't have to look long for you as their enhanced senses aid them in spotting you quickly and in that moment they really feel like you have been missing all along.

If Alice would still have a heart, it would pound so wildly against her chest right now as she just looks at you and takes in your every curve and feature. She's already mentally gushing over you and can't wait to do everything with you she has already been planning in the months before you moved to Forks. Jasper's doubts completely fade away as soon as he spots you too as he instantly feels the connection. His eyes also observe you with a warm glint in your eyes but differently from Alice, he is also being much more strategic and especially more overprotective. Suddenly he becomes even more aware of his surroundings and if anyone is looking funnily at you as his mind instantly switches to a protective mode, especially since you are a human. Alice notices his more rigid and alerted gaze and nudges him playfully. He can worry later. Both of them should now meet their soulmate.

Jasper takes the backseat for quite a while as he just lets Alice do the job. Not only because he knows that Alice is far more easily approachable than he is since he has a colder appearance but also because he is worried that he might be tempted by your blood. You have a very sweet smell around you and he has still very vividly in mind what happened when Bella cut herself on paper during her birthday. He could never imagine hurting you, his soulmate, yet he knows that it might be more realistic than he might want to admit. It almost feels like he is a thrid wheel for a while and even if Alice tries to include him more since she just knows that he's silently suffering from not being as involved and as close with you as she is already, she respects his wishes. Your joyful appearance in their lives actually motivates him to work harder on his self-control since he would never be able to forgive himself if he would hurt you due to his own lack of self-control.

Alice is a refreshing breeze that just enters your life as she approaches you with confidence and from that day on is always involved. You might be a bit startled by her bold approach but she is surprisingly good in sensing how far she can go from now. She takes the pleasure of being your guide you can run to in search for help since you are new here. Her goal is to be the first person you are really close to because she knows that if she is someone you already know better than others, you will gravitate more to her and rather search for her than ask new people for help. Especially if you are on a more introverted side. In either case, Alice seemingly adjusts flawlessly to your own vibe which allows you to feel more comfortable when around her. Jasper due to his more quiet nature initially spooks you out a bit but she reassures you that her lover is deep down just a big softie. You'll see that soon enough.

If Alice is the one who is visibly present in your life and always makes sure to tell you about the newest fashion, rumors and stories in this small town, Jasper is the one who is always watching over you behind the scenes. He is definitely too protective over you for his own good and that is made all the more worse since you are still only a human. He's the one who is always a few steps behind Alice and you when she excitedly shows you a great shop for clothes or a nice place to consume some beverages and some cakes, even if she sadly can't share the joy of eating and drinking as you do which is why she tries to avoid dragging you to such places. His eyes always seem to scam your surroundings and the people passing by as if he is always prepared to hear something or see something that will indicate that your life is in danger. He is the one who at times even stalks you just to quench that overprotective duty that he feels now that you are part of Alice's and his life.

Edward and Alice, and by extension also the rest of the Cullens, is aware of the tiny bit more illegal activities that Jasper is doing and they definitely have a small talk with him about it. Edward probably can't lecture him too greatly about it as Jasper is quick to remind his adoptive brother of the way he behaved around Bella when she was still a human. He's definitely getting more defensive and even mildly aggressive if someone wants to have a discussion with him about his stalkerish and overprotective tendencies. A tiny part of him might be able to rationalise why they tell him that he is overdoing it but the major part of him just can't think of what he is doing as wrong. He only has your good intentions in mind after all so he is definitely the type of delusional man who will justify some of his more questionable behavior with his feelings and your safety in mind. Alice is the only one who can talk to him without him instantly getting defensive and for her sake he does try to tone his behavior down a bit. Next to his struggles to control himself around human blood though, he seems to have unlocked a new urge he can't quite control.

Jasper only really allows himself to interact more with you when he has more confidence in his skills to control his lust for blood and only then will you finally get to know him so much better. He has always held himself back before out of fear that the scent of your blood might tempt him and you have always interpreted that as him not liking you. Now he proves you wrong though and actually turns out to be much more mellow than his exterior might let on. You are surprised to actually find out just how sensible he seems to be as he always seems to guess your current mood accurately. Whilst Alice seems to be more outgoing and bubbly, Jasper is more introverted and shockingly soft and mellow around you. He always seems so careful around you and sometimes you feel like he is talking to you like one would talk to a baby deer in order to not scare it away. At the same time you also realise that he doesn't seem to be comfortable around other people. He always appears to be slightly more tense and you always notice the protective step he seems to take as soon as someone he doesn't know approaches you.

Honestly though, the combination of their abilities is kind of scary. You essentially have someone who is able to feel and influence your emotions in Jasper and someone who can see the different outcomes of your future in Alice and whilst both of these abilities would be already quite scary by themselves, combined this makes for an even more dangerous mix. You aren't able to hide stuff from both of them because whilst their enhanced senses would probably already allow them to notice that something is wrong, Jasper can additionally sense it in your feelings. Honestly, Jasper can be a bit overbearing due to this strong need he feels to keep you safe and to protect you so as soon as he senses that you are scared, he automatically enters this overprotective mode where he is ready to scare anyone and everything away that frightens you. Additionally he just feels better if he knows where you are and with whom you are at the moment if neither Alice nor him are with you and not knowing your current location always has him worried.

Alice with her ability to see different scenarios of the future also are in the longer run very scary and useful. Whilst it of course allows both of them to prepare and keep you away from potential danger, it also completely enables her to watch over decisions you make and which impact they might have on your future. If she ever has a vision that would show her that you would have to leave Jasper and her, whether this decision was made by yourself or is the result of someone else, she and Jasper always come up with plans to cancel your departure from them. Neither one of them can just allow you to leave them like this, not now when you have become an official part of their lives and hearts. So whilst Alice always has a watch over your future, Jasper can influence your presence directly by controlling your emotions a bit. Neither one of those would ever dare to take it as far as inducing you with false feelings for both of them but at times Jasper just influences your feelings enough to not have you take any rash decisions.

Alice and Jasper have to compromise on how they spend their time with you. Whilst Alice enjoys going shopping with you and dressing you up all cutely, Jasper just prefers to just have the three of you doing something by yourselves. He always feels uncomfortable and pressured when he is around people he doesn't consider his loved ones and that has become a tad bit worse since you have come around. He wants to show you his love and that isn't as possible when he is constantly alerted due to everyone around you. He is already at times a bit more protective around Alice but that is much worse with you who is only a human. He's much more loving and at ease when it is just the three of you. Alice often plans everything though and Jasper lets her. She is creative with her plans and always comes up with something that will be fun and exciting but that doesn't mean that she doesn't consider Jasper's more simple desires to just hang out with only the three of you.

Both of them start planning relatively early on how to tell you about what they truly are. In fact both of them have been considering this as soon as they knew that you exist. Whilst Alice could have done fine without instantly going over how to tell you that they are vampires as carefully as possible, it was probably Jasper who wanted to start thinking about it at such an early stage already. Of course both of them were only able to really start properly planning as soon as both of you started knowing you better. Jasper has always seen him as the biggest risk to spoil the secret so he has been up until now tried his hardest to not slip up with anything. The closer you get to both of them and also by extension the rest of the Cullens, the bigger the chances are that you start finding out. Edward tells both of them after a visit where he also met you that you are already suspicious. Their eye colour, their cold skin and the fact that you have never seen them eating or drinking anything has already roused your suspicion.

Both of them already suspected as much as Edward tells them but hearing it just confirms their suspicions. Both of them know that they should tell you their secret now sooner than later. Alice tries to be more optimistic about everything whilst Jasper is more worried because he fears that you might see Alice and him as monsters after finding out that both of them are vampires. This is probably one of the prime examples of how Jasper uses his abilities though. He makes sure that he influences your emotions and calms you down when the time comes where Alice and him inform you about their true identities so that you don't freak out and allow Alice to calmly explain everything to you. This might be the moment though you silently realise that you probably have little chances to escape as soon as you finally know the truth but weirdly enough don't feel scared or freaked out. Well, thank Jasper for inducing you with such calm and serene feelings to keep you from feeling scared.

[fatuismooches]

Do you think Alpha ever gets envious of Omega or Prime?

Alpha is basically the tsundere-trope, a bit more deeper than that but it is kinda where he lands with his whole feigned irritability but is harbouring fondness thing. Which is cute! We love him for it - but do you think Alpha looks at the more confident versions of himself and feels a rising sense of resentment?

For him, he tries (and fails) to brush off his lover's affections, insisting that they distract him and he doesn't need those frivolous attachments. He doesn't say them harshly, it's more of a grumble in denial as he doesn't make any true efforts to push his lover off him. It's a formality at this point to make him feel more like 'himself.'

Until he sees Omega or Prime with their collective lover. Do you think he would silently seethe since his versions are open with their affections? Omega and Prime reciprocate it without a trace of shame, at times turning the tables to have their lover become a stammering mess.

Maybe he quietly desires to have that same brazen attitude, maybe he too wishes that he could be just as charismatic.

But everytime he tries, his great intellect draws a blank, and he is forced to grumble another reluctant protest to the affection he is bombarded with.

[Pretty sure Alpha is the Akademiya segment if I remember right... ( ´△｀)? ]

Yes! Even though he doesn't really show it, I do believe Alpha would harbor the most "jealousy" in general out of all the segments - constantly watching his peers be accepted while he's shunned, both physically and idea/research-wise, being denied and expelled from his own homeland, etc. However, he refuses to put a name to this feeling and just grows resentment toward the whole thing. (The older segments, who still long for acceptance, don't react exactly the same due to their much older age and maturity.)

Being but another segment stuck in time, unable to make peace with himself, Alpha can't help himself with how he acts toward you, it's quite literally how he was programmed. It's practically a routine at this point - you throwing so many kisses and hugs and affection at him out of nowhere as he lectures you and fruitlessly attempts to nudge you away. Every excuse in the book coming out - he's busy, you're busy, go bother someone else, let him think in peace for once. Alpha says them all as you continue to cling to him, his eyes getting softer as he continues to grumble, more halfheartedly at this point.

It's not really a secret how affectionate and possessive the oldest two are with you - the best segment and the original - neither of them particularly shies away from it even if others are watching. It's just laughable how he is them and yet he is not at the same time. He shares so many traits with them and yet the differences are as clear as day - the truth of the matter is that he will never be them. A part of the jealousy also stems from the feeling original Zandik had about you leaving him, because well, he was less than the ideal partner for obvious reasons. Alpha is also the first one in Dottore's life to ever feel love... and subsequently the most vulnerable... so ya. He does feel the irritation.

And yet, no matter how much he tells himself he'll say what he truly wants, the opposite comes out of his mouth, for that's the fate he's been dealt.

However, Reader probably knows him well enough to figure out his inner feelings, and they would go to great lengths to make sure he knows they love him just as much. In truth, they do love his personality - although it can be a headache sometimes when they're genuinely trying to be affectionate, it's a part of him they find cute, and they wouldn't change it. They already know how much he loves them, and that's enough.

[writing-for-life]

Dream and How He Experiences Love

(Or: When the Unreal is at War with the Real, and Finally Understanding Unconditional Love Tightens the Noose Around Your Neck That Has Been There All Along)

And as always: Send me asks about everything Sandman-related!

Let me start this one with a few adjectives from the horse’s mouth (aka: Neil Gaiman said so 🤣) as to what Dream is actually like:

from: Vertigo Chase Card Set

So in short: This is probably the most accurate way to describe Dream in a nutshell, from the author himself, fully knowing that Murphy doesn’t lend himself well to be described in a nutshell.

And of course it’s absolutely fine if we want to head-canon him just being 5 out of those 50 (or none of them at all)—our stories are our own. At the end of the day, we went through a whole year of Tumblrfication (I might have made up that word), and getting back to the series will be tough. So is trying to align what the current prevalent perception of Dream is like in parts of the fandom, and what he is like in both comics and series (show and comics really aren’t that different where it matters, and I’ll die on that hill). I already worry about the fallout if I look at what happened with GO or OFMD, but that just as an aside.

Anyway, Dream in fandom spaces is often portrayed as either a pathetic wet cat who can’t get to grips with anything and constantly needs rescued in one way or another, or as a completely unfeeling arsehole incapable of relating to the human experience and being horrible all around. There are very few shades of grey in how some fans perceive him, when just the list of above adjectives shows us how complex he is as a character.

One thing that obviously comes up regularly are his relationships, be they romantic or platonic. So I just wanted to draw attention to the adjectives that relate strongly to the relational element in him (although they all apply in one way or another):

touchy, sentimental, cold, loving, [elusive], gentle, hurt, deep, intense, solitary, romantic, shy, intangible, lonely

Dream is the unreal. His way of loving relates very deeply to what stereotypical romantic love is: Romance and reality are a contradiction in terms—romanticism is dreaming because it is, at its very core, an idealised view. The intangible dream that comes back to bite us in the arse once reality sets in. And his flavour of love is the prototype of idealised and intangible (=romantic) and can never be anything else by his very nature.

And I’ve often thought that the way he experiences love is also a large part of why his existence is so difficult for him, and why he ultimately makes the choices he makes. Yes, he detests his function, but if he weren't so lonely (and weren't doomed to be so by his very purpose), he might find it easier to bear.

Let me look at, and draw parallels to, the 7 types of love as the Ancient Greeks perceived them [quick note about the image references: I would have loved to give more, but there is a limit. Also: Apologies I have no alt text for the comic panels at this point, I might add them at a later stage if I find the time]…

Eros

That’s both sexual and romantic love (to varying degrees), and it can be fleeting (like a dream) if not anchored in a less idealised view. So there’s your first cue—he totally experiences that kind of love.

The Ancient Greeks also thought it was a dangerous type of love, one that clouds our judgment and one that won’t last if not combined with some of the other types. And Dream himself knows this and probably relates (he detests his sibling Desire for “meddling���, after all). And yet, he is the intangible, the ungrounded, the unreal.

It’s all over every single one of his relationships we witness:

Killalla—“gifted” by Desire. We never get any cue as to what exactly they were up to, but it can be assumed desire, for whatever, played a large part in their relationship. Killalla makes no secret about it either (and is at the same time uncertain whether she truly loves him while being confused Dream might actually love her after what seems a very short time, at least in cosmic terms). Suffice it to say, he has a very idealised view of her and their relationship. Romantic idiocy at its best: He has literal stars in his eyes and is so grateful for Desire’s help he is basically kissing their boots in gratitude.

Alianora—again one of Desire’s gifts. And Dream tried, and I definitely think he was at least romantically (and physically) attracted to her (the art is very hard to interpret otherwise, neither is the context--she was gifted by Desire, after all). But this relationship is generally a tricky one because there is gratefulness and guilt n the mix, and that is sometimes a very unfortunate combination. He also couldn’t fully trust her because of his deep mistrust of D/desire. And lo and behold, of course the relationship soured when romantic and (potentially physical) attraction waned.

Nada—pursuing each other on and off, broadcasting sexy time all over the Dreaming because he's just so head over heels and literally bursting at the seams—need I say more? Yes, he does say to her that her body does not matter to him, which I 100% believe is true. He also says that he will love her as no mortal man can. But everything that transpires is still deeply informed by romantic attraction, because quite frankly: You don't feel love yet after you've barely met someone. It's again a deeply idealised view and that is something inherently romantic in tandem (in this case) with physical desire. Again, because D/desire was involved.

As to the particulars of Nada’s banishment to hell, and why Dream acted so out of character compared to his other failed relationships: You can find all of it here.

Calliope—read her speech at the Wake is all I’ll say. That is someone making romantic love so integral to their whole existence, I don’t even know where to start. He puts the world at her feet and makes sure she always comes first (quite literally) while they are still loved up…

Thessaly—he's the romantic idiot (affectionately) in the rain with his coat billowing in the wind, and referring to her “weighing him dispassionately and finding him wanting”. It was only a handful of months--you don't feel true, stable love at that point. Again, it has the idealised view of romance (and potentially sexual desire) written all over it. He would have given her the world, just like he would have given the world to Nada and Calliope. That is the trope of every freaking romance novel, and that is exactly how he perceives love.

Titania—who knows, she keeps her mouth shut.

Ludus

I think he has a hard time to be flirtatious and playful (at least, we don't really see it. We never really see him during the courting stage, and what went down with Thessaly was hardly "flirtatious". `Then again, bickering like they did in A Game of You is electrifying to some, so who knows. She also said at his wake he was cautious and nervous). And if he comes across as flirtatious (there is a charming on that list of adjectives after all), it’s just because he is so deliberate in everything he does that he might just push someone’s (right) buttons, so to speak. But that’s not the same as “no strings attached”-love, because I honestly believe he’s incapable of experiencing love that way. There is no “casual” with him. He always stays attached to the people/women he once loved, even if the relationship sours. He still loves each and every single one of them, he never stops. But he also doesn’t in a way that’s sustainable, and it’s an unsolvable conflict due to what/who he is.

Philia

Most closely translated as friendship and affection. Platonic love, if you will. It is also a love between equals. He has a hard time with it and only slowly learns what it means through his relationship with Hob. Needless to say: The Ancient Greeks valued platonic love as one of the highest forms of love. Hence, I’m personally reluctant to turn it into something else/slant it towards romance, because that’s exactly what this part of the story is about: His relationship to Hob is important and grows/lasts because it is not romantic in the comics.

Storge

Unconditional love for family, especially children. Based on complete acceptance and potentially sacrifice. Doesn’t need to be reciprocated. You feel it, no matter what, and you act accordingly. And for Dream and Orpheus, that didn’t work until it did. Or, let’s rather say: I don’t want to assume he didn’t feel it. But he pushed it down in his hurt and pride (as did his son in his grief). No further comment, because that one hurts.

Agape

Altruistic, universal, all-encompassing. And that’s so deeply at the core of his being, and so central to his whole conflict that I don’t even know where to start. From not wanting to kill the first vortex (or Rose, for that matter), to telling John Dee he’s hurting the dreamers, and that being his main concern while he himself was writhing on the floor in agony, to “humanity I love you”, to a million other things. He cares so deeply, there is such a deep concern for sentient beings in their entirety that it’s quite literally impossible to call it anything other than love. And it’s also what plays a large part in his demise.

Pragma

Oh, here we go. I honestly believe he likes the idea of committed and long-lasting. And he’s trying. So very hard. Calliope is the best example. Alianora was another one, because it’s not like they broke up swiftly (hard to tell how long they lasted, but since she had stayed in the Dreaming too long to go anywhere else, it wouldn’t surprise me if we’re actually talking a very, very long time. He called it “a goodly while”, and considering how old he is, I doubt that equals only months, or even just a few years, especially since he is fully aware how short his relationship to Thessaly was). And he wanted to stay true to his promise. But he is who/what he is: the unreal. And as the personification of that, love both feels real for him but will also forever stay intangible. It’s heartbreaking really. Again, it has written the contradiction between romantic love (the ideal) and pragmatic love (the thing that is grounded in reality) written all over it.

Philautia

And that’s the most heartbreaking one. He is incapable of self-love and full of self-loathing instead. The Ancient Greeks used to say that you can’t give what you don’t have. And it’s hard to feel compassion for the flaws we perceive in others if we don’t have that self-compassion for the exact same flaw in ourselves. And that one hurts in so many ways, from his not being able to forgive himself (which is mirrored in his relationship to Nada, who also couldn’t forgive herself—she didn’t need his forgiveness, she needed her own) to Orpheus being so much like him apart from one major difference: he’s mortal in spirit, and even immortality doesn’t change that. And Dream struggles with the part of his child that is so like him for a million reasons that would burst this meta at the seams, but again: it’s hard to love in others what we detest in ourselves, knowingly or unknowingly.

So in short: The particular flavours of love Dream feels (Eros, Agape, Philia growing slowly over time) and the ones he doesn’t (Ludus, Pragma, Philautia) are also at the very root of how the story goes.

And when he finally truly understands what Storge/unconditional love is--both in the way he reassesses his relationship to Nada but especially in how he finally submits to his love for Orpheus (with all that entails)--and when he allows it to become real, it’s what tightens the noose around his neck. But that noose has been around his neck loosely all along…

[acesw]

Reverse: 1999 : Neurodivergent Characters

I want to put my official disclaimer here that I'm not diagnosed with any sort of condition. I've taken time to do my research and take insights from my friends who are indeed diagnosed or well-versed in these subjects. So, I will try to be respectful as much as possible.

This is essentially a part 2 of the disabled characters series (which I highly encourage reading first!), but this will mainly focus on Reverse: 1999's characters who are implied to be neurodivergent. The term applies to a variety of conditions, and I found that the parallels mainly draw to autism. Because of this, over half the characters on this list fall under it.

I found that it is easier put out those characters first, and then place down the rest of the neurodivergent characters afterwards. Additionally, this is mainly focused on finding implications, but these are partially headcanons too. And also I apologize for the heavy word vomit that you'll have to endure. Now, lets begin.

Autism

37, Horropedia - The reason why I put 37 and Horropedia on the same line here is because they're incredibly similar to each other. Both of them are characters that embody one of the main stereotypes about autism: Incredibly intelligent characters who fixate on specific subjects. 37's focus is on mathematics, while Horropedia's is the horror genre.

They lace their speech with associations to their topic of interest, and will infodump about it unprompted. The two of them also struggle to pick up social cues, nor can tell if the information they're sharing is unsolicited because the information is normal to themselves. However, the difference between them in this is that Horropedia is more carefree about it, whilst 37 is more self-aware about the fact that she can't come to a mutual understanding with others.

Even outside of this their personalities are quite similar, arrogant yet kind and understanding.

Balloon Party - I explained this previously, but the main reasoning behind placing BP here is that her way of speech is unconventional. Her way of speech is slightly slow and having abnormal pauses, and it tends to be perceived as monotone and having a lack of control.

Like 37 and Horropedia, Balloon Party also tends to utilize her topic of interest (balloons and dreams) as a means of conveying her thoughts through word association and echolalia. She also struggles to catch on to social cues and (over?)compensates by association. (e.g. her praise voiceline describes Vertin being a great "party partner" and the "best kid and adult" despite not being able to exactly define the differences of a kid and adult.)

ADHD

Regulus - With Regulus, it's more of a headcanon than it is backed by evidence, but the main points that can be found for her is her restlessness and her impulsivity. They're common stereotypes in ADHD, and thus they aren't exactly conclusive. But I also found that Regulus also tends to bring her interests to light when navigating through conversations, and this with the reasons mentioned above makes me personally believe that Regulus not just strictly have ADHD, but also generally neurodivergent too.

Marcus - At first I believed that Marcus was autistic based on how she retreats back to reading as a means to calm herself, but the more I learn about her the more I believe that Marcus rather has the inattentive type of ADHD.

Firstly, Marcus heavily relies on having someone to guide them or support her, as she tends to struggle making decisions on her own. And in attempting to, she tends to overthink and get absorbed into it until something or someone snaps her out of her train of thought.

She also tends to take rejection very deeply, as rejection sensitivity dysphoria (RSD) is a common but not definitive part of ADHD. She would resort to immediately coming up with ways to resolve the sources of her being rejected.

Lastly, she also has her impulses. This shows more prominently when she's upset or makes a significant decision. Its mainly shown when she decides to leave the Flannan Isles to the Foundation, to when she tries to fight Heinrich herself when she's enraged, and when reaching out to Kakania upon realizing a solution to her mission.

Eagle (1.9 Spoilers!) - Here, Eagle also seems to have the inattentive type as well, but a more established indicator of her likely having ADHD is that in her anecdote, Eagle was classified as having some sort of attention-deficit.

And throughout the anecdote, Eagle continues acting on her own impulses such as jumping to try to find the missing boy scout, and even helping X if it meant that it progressed her mission. She also doesn't take her rejections from the boy scouts well, and continued to try to join them until she was invited to join the Lorentz.

While these alone aren't conclusive either, they still give me enough reason to believe that Eagle could be implied to be neurodivergent too.

Others

Mesmer Jr. (OCD) - I've already described it in the previous post too, but I will condense it down here. As a result of her traumatic experiences in her line of work, Mesmer Jr. has anxiety, has routines that she strictly follows, and tends to do drastic actions (i.e. self harm) when triggered from stressing situations like routines being disrupted.

Pickles - While I'm not exactly sure if there is any evidence about Pickles being neurodivergent at all, @abyss-idiot pointed out that he was nicknamed as an "indigo pup." While this might be related to his arcane skill, the nickname is also intriguing because its like the term "indigo children."

"Indigo children" are classified as those who are incredibly intelligent and possess special talents or powers according to the New Age concept. However, this classification is closely associated with neurodivergence due to the similar descriptions.

Vertin, AliEn T (AuDHD) - Mentioning Vertin and AliEn T in the same line seem to be incredibly out of place. But from the insights of my friend Bee, it made me realize that the two of them have some commonly shared traits. This will be the longest one so buckle up.

For one, both of them feel their emotions more greatly than others, and the main difference being how it's translated into external reaction. We have AliEn T being noted to be very emotional, while Vertin is a lot more stoic but will be direct with how she feels in some cases like stress.

Another point is that both of them have executive dysfunction, where AliEn T cannot do "simple" tasks and struggles with them. Meanwhile this was more prominent on Vertin as a child where she had difficulty focusing in school and doing more mundane tasks. I also think that Vertin still struggles with this in the present, but has a support system that allows her to work more efficiently.

They also have certain interests that give them an emotional anchor. Where AliEn T's is the general subject of the earth and human society, while Vertin is more focused on wildlife. (i.e. frogs)

Here is where their common points diverge, and I want to talk about both of them separately here.

Starting with Vertin, most of the "obvious" signs are present in her childhood, where she is mainly restless and blunt towards most situations, and has gotten punished often for both of these things. While currently, her main indicators are her tactile tendencies (i.e. tends to touch others out of curiosity) and being absorbed into her thoughts quite often.

On the other hand, we're not entirely sure about how AliEn T's home society is structured, but it can be argued that his and our societies tend to parallel each other. For example, AliEn T is seen as a bit eccentric to his kind like the regional manager and co-workers because of him being emotionally prone and being very fixated on the Earth. (which his society collectively avoids) A lot of his points here imply that in his home society, there is a case where they have their equivalent of some of the struggles found in the neurodivergent experience.

End Notes and Credits

I did say that I would give credit where its due, so this portion is dedicated to that. I want to give thanks to Lupjo, Jager, Bee, and Send Help, and Abyss for their insights and research on this topic. (Especially Lupjo and Jager for providing help with phrasing this entire word vomit still)

Like I've said previously, not everything here is conclusive and these can be speculation or some sort of interpretation. However, every experience is different, and I think these characters here openly show that. Welcome to the bottom of this post, feel free to add your own insights, corrections, and even your own headcanons here. Thanks for reading.

[tired-biscuit]

Hello Biscuit 💛 it’s the same anon who’s bugged you about Obito a couple of times recently back again! Thinking about a reader who didn’t even realize she has a raging size kink until she’s in bed with Obito for the first time 😩

18+ fem!reader // cw: size kink

oh goodness, now i'm thinking that a sweet man like obi wouldn't even realize what exactly the size difference would be doing to you either.

i can just picture him quirking a confused brow at the way literal hearts form in your eyes the moment he tops you and presses you into the bed with the help of his weight. your legs are propped on top of his shoulders, bent at an angle that allows him to go so deep inside your wet warmth that it causes a blush to tint his handsome, scarred face a bright red.

he can see everything, and the mewlish little noises you keep letting out during it only make the heat travel further down his burly body; all until you swear that even his neck and chest are flushing a faint pink. he's just so flustered and cute despite being a grown man, it's to die for.

and speaking of death, you might just experience a little version of it from the way he draws his hips back slowly and pushes them right back in even slower, now. the spot where you connect is warm, hot, sticky, dripping wet. you're so attracted to him - to his immense size - that you've turned embarrassingly soaked. just the sight of his broad shoulders, his strong arms, the scars, makes your pussy flutter around his thickness. you can't help it.

and the best part of it is that he looks so mean but he fucks you so gentle. he's all messy kisses, hesitant strokes of tongue, unsure grunts and coincidental manhandling. you've been making love for so long that his midnight hair is all mussed up; there are beads of sweat sliding down his temples and jawline, and yet he still doesn't seem to be planning on stopping anytime soon.

his left hand wraps around your thigh as he readjusts to find more stability on his knees. the headboard of the bed keeps slamming against the wall as he pounds away purely on instinct and what feels good. you're already so close, but the moment he leans in and presses his other hand against your chest so that he can feel your heartbeat dance underneath his calloused fingertips; you're ready to go absolutely feral. like an animal. like an untamed beast.

and how couldn't you? his palm is so wide that it nearly covers both of your tits entirely. just the way he clumsily swipes his thumb over one nipple - if it's done on purpose or on accident, you're not sure - makes you clench. makes you hold onto him so tightly that he feels the need to hiss as he grits his teeth and tries to relish the oh, so sinfully delightful tightness without fully giving into it at the same time.

a muscle twitches in his cheek when he feels your cunt start sucking him in, clearly aiming to milk him completely dry. he swears that he's had a couple of more pumps in him, honest to god, but as he listens to the whine you let out and watches the way your fingers dig into the pillow as you throw your head back in absolute whorish bliss, is enough to make him cum on the spot.

you look absolutely dazed. fucked stupid without reason, it seems.

or at least that's what he thinks.

"fuck...! obi, you're s-so fuckin' big." your eyes squeeze shut and your upper lip quivers when he slams into you to the hilt and keeps himself there with the single, innocent purpose of keeping himself in-check. tears slide down your cheeks with the action but you don't wipe them away.

"oh, god- goddamn... sweetheart." he's just trying not to spill his load too soon, but he's balls deep in and the moan you let out after he accidentally bullies your fucking womb is shrill and piercing; it hurts his ears. makes his heart race and causes his sharingan to come out and play even if he doesn't want it to join this particular game.

the sounds of your intimacy grow louder and a ring of milky arousal gathers at the base of his dick the moment your gaze lands on the deep red that now swirls inside the eye that he doesn't keep hidden underneath the eyepatch. the shade almost glows in the dark and you clamp onto him like a vice in response, even tighter than before - if that is even humanly possible.

"i'm big?" he grits out finally when you make eye contact, his voice hoarse and terribly strained. you're so out of it that you don't even realize that what he's asking you is a genuine question.

poor man. he truly doesn't understand that his fat cock is splitting you into two and is almost becoming too much to bear with each passing second of ruthless, albeit loving, pounding. that he's so big and thick that he makes your entire body writhe, squirm, arch in desperate attempts to accommodate him properly. that he makes you sweat and cry and drool and leak warm slick. that he makes the muscles in your thighs burn from the way you have to keep your legs wide open at all times, just so that he can properly fit in-between.

even your belly throbs, now that he's inside.

"yeah... s'big... stretch me out real good," your voice wobbles and you can't offer anything else as you take his hand with both of yours and slip it between your legs. feeling the friction, your toes immediately curl; feet bumping against the sides of his head when you press his thumb against your clit and guide him into starting a slow circling motion that makes your entire body feel like it's been set on fire.

the button of nerves feels so small and delicate underneath his touch. good lord, for a man so scatterbrained and sometimes outright ditzy; he's good at following instructions when you finally get him to set his mind on it.

just like he's good at making you feel like he's fucked his way right up to your goddamn throat from how big he is.

[exactlymaximumgarden]

what i did for love (jschlatt x reader fic)

chapter 1: ...again!

summary: your broadway debut is finally here after years of working toward it. however, an unwelcome face is quick to crash the party. word count: ~1.3k warnings: fem!reader a/n: please don't yell at me if any of the details about the rehearsal process or whatever are factually incorrect. idgaf!!! all love ofc. also, this fic will (obviously) draw on a lot of material from a chorus line, so i’d suggest familiarizing yourself with the show while reading if you’re not already! not essential tho lol song: i hope i get it - a chorus line ensemble

The first thing you noticed was how, no matter where you performed or for how long, you would never get used to the way the stage lights quite nearly blinded you.

Opening night of your leg of A Chorus Line opened in less than two weeks, and you couldn’t be more elated. For years, this had been your dream. To perform, to be onstage, to be on Broadway. And now here you were. The show was undergoing another revival, a more modern take on the iconic musical. The casting directors had issued an open call to all aspiring stars in New York City to scout some fresh talent. They’d mentioned something about wanting to find unknowns, some unrecognizable faces since you couldn’t keep casting the same people over and over. That would be overkill, they said. That was a no-go. Not here. Not in the big leagues or whatever.

Hell, you were lucky that you even made it past the initial round of callbacks. But if you had told the version of you almost a year ago that was stepping into those auditions for the first time that you were going to be chosen to play Cassie, one of the most prominent roles in the show, you probably wouldn’t have believed it. A whole dance number and song to yourself, plus the most dialogue out of the rest of the female characters? It was surreal.

And now, after months of rehearsals, the opening was just around the corner.

It was no secret that everyone involved was growing increasingly antsy the closer opening night drew. Your castmates were collectively full of a newfound energy you hadn’t witnessed from them yet. It didn’t help that today was the first day of full costumes, plus more light and music cueing. Somehow, the show coming together brought everyone’s moods up by a thousand.

These more upbeat vibes were made evident as the cast stood in the primary assigned formation, one next to the other all in a line close to the edge of the stage. You stood, unable to stop yourself from fidgeting with the scarlet tulle of your costume’s skirt while, out in the audience, the production team buzzed amongst each other with directives, ideas on what to cue next, and how. And those stage lights, those damn lights, bore down upon you. You had to tilt your head down to keep the rays from blaring directly into your eyes.

“Okay!” You were no sooner snapped out of your daze at the booming sound of your director Vanja’s voice from out in the audience. Vanja was a middle-aged woman who’d been raised to become a ballet prodigy. She was not only a seasoned dancer but a strict, dedicated spirit, which was only natural considering her upbringing. She was functioning as both director and choreographer, so she was undoubtedly the most strung-up out of anyone involved in the show, but for obviously different reasons. You squinted, trying to search for her limber figure out in the house, but your vision was obscured from your point on the stage. Her eastern European accent (from exactly where, you couldn't recall) oozed through her words like a thick molasses as she continued, “We will be running ‘At The Ballet’ next. Victoria! Step up, please.”

From your left, your castmate Victoria stepped forward. The tall blonde had been cast as Sheila, the character who sung the first section of the aforementioned song. Since the two of you were sandwiched directly beside each other in the line formation, you’d become quite close during the rehearsal process. “Yes?” Victoria answered coolly, not at all intimidated by Vanja’s demanding tone. You couldn’t help but envy her a little bit for that.

“We will start a couple of lines before the beginning of the song,” Vanja instructed. “Isaiah will prompt you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Isaiah!” Isaiah was another member of the cast, having been assigned the role of Zach, or the director of the chorus line the show centered around. Zach was primarily unseen throughout the show save for a few particular scenes, so Isaiah, the lucky bastard, got to sit out in the house for most of the rehearsals. You couldn’t see where he was located either, but Vanja seemed to have spotted him, as you could hear her advise, “Start from, ah… start from, ‘Better, go on.’ Just after she’s taken her ponytail down, yes?”

You heard a deeper voice clearing their throat, indicating Isaiah was beginning to speak his assigned dialogue. “Better. Go on.” 

Victoria, meanwhile, squared her shoulders in an attempt to rapidly lock into character before reciting her own lines. “Oh, how she did it. Well, first, she took me to see all the ballets. And then, she gave me her old toe shoes, which I used to run down the sidewalk in. On my toes. At five. And then-”

Suddenly, the typically fluorescent stage lights dimmed to a faded mix of blue and purple. It would have been a very serene color combo had it not been for Vanja’s deafening voice cutting Victoria’s dialogue off. “Hold!” she yelled. “That light cue is too early! That is not supposed to happen until the music starts! Who did that? Tech! Who did that?”

As Vanja spat out her rampaging words, Victoria turned her head just slightly enough to make eye contact with you. She sent you a discreet side-eye as if to nonverbally say, ‘She’s crazy!’

At that moment, one of the members of the tech crew stuck his head out from the wings of the stage. You recognized his face considering you’d seen him around so often, but you never caught his name. “Sorry, ma’am!” he apologized with a rueful grin. “That was an accident. I’m trying to show the new guy the ropes.”

New guy?

Judging by the tone of Vanja’s voice instantly calming down, she seemed to grasp the situation. “Ah, the new techie boy?” she queried. “I haven’t gotten to see him yet.”

“Oh, he’s right here.”

Almost as if on cue, everyone in the cast’s head turned towards the wing, where a second head popped out from behind the curtain. Your eyes widened. No way.

The new guy in question donned a polite smile, his oak brown curls cascading down the sides of his face into mutton chops you recognized all too well. His golden-rimmed aviator glasses shielded his glinting eyes. “How’s it goin’?” he greeted sheepishly, and to your right, you heard your castmate Ari suck in a quiet gasp. Nobody ever spoke to Vanja so casually.

No way.

“Hello.” Surprisingly, Vanja didn’t seem to mind so much. Or maybe she was just giving him the pass since he was new. “What’s your name? I apologize, I never caught it.”

“Oh, uh, Jay. Lotsa people call me Schlatt, though.”

No. Way.

“Ah. Pleasure to meet you, Jay.” You could practically hear the smile in Vanja’s words. “Come see me when we take a break so I can properly speak to you.”

“Will do. Sorry ‘bout the lights. I’ll be more careful.” 

Your stomach churned. Why the hell was he here? Him, of all people? Victoria, sweet Victoria, somehow seemed to catch on to your less than enthused reaction. In your periphery, you could see her quirking up a brow inquisitively at your expression. You couldn’t even make eye contact with her. You were too busy staring at Schlatt, fighting to keep your jaw from dropping.

And of course the prick had to notice you.

It happened in a split second. As he retreated back behind the curtain, your gazes met. A stupid grin crept onto his face as he saw you, clearly dumbfounded by his very presence in the theatre. If you weren’t onstage right now in front of all these people, you would’ve lunged at him.

You heard Vanja’s voice once more as the lights returned to their normal cue, preparing to resume the scene, but it all might as well have been a distant echo. Somehow, someway, Schlatt had made his way back into your life after fighting for so long to keep him out of it.

Why him?

next chapter

[time-woods]

this is really embarrassing to even ask even if it’s anon BUT IM LIKE REALLY STRUGGLING TO FIGURE OUT IF IM AROACE OR IM JUST THINKING THE WRONG THING ,, I dont know how to explain it but I really wouldn’t want to have a sexual stuff or anything in that manner and even being in a relationship makes me super nervous. But at the same time I really would really like to enjoy a relationship with kissing and closeness with only some intimacy. I was just wondering if you have any take on if I’m a part the that spec or I’m just delusional.

After seeing that your art with Sīdus and Carmine was kinda your way of expressing the relationship with your partner made me question myself man. Sorry if this is too much to ask I’m very bad with this type of stuff.

nono dont worry ! ! im no expert on anything queer- i dont even have real labels when it comes to being on the aroace spectrum- (and honestly i dont care too- i just know what i prefer and make that known to my partners)) but i get exactly what you mean ! ! everyone has their own parameters for 'romantic' and 'platonic' relationships and honestly any forms of intimacy can fall into both ! in my opinion i think that makes you fall into the ace spectrum, but its genuinely all about what you want for yourself and your relationships. you draw the lines in those.

for example ! im aroace(spec)- sex repulsed and have a very blurred line between whats 'romantic or 'platonic' in relationships and honestly dont get it ! but i want to get married ! have a family ! but not in an inherently romantic sense, i want to spend my life with someone, but it doesnt have to be romantic, but that doesnt mean there isnt love there. its just different, i still want to be close to my partners, let them know that i love them, but just in my own ways. and theres certain things that i dont care for and i let them both know that. you can still feel a strong connection with someone and not have those 'expectation' from them. in my books we all love in our own ways, and its ok to not know what that means for you yet, its sorta the thing you gotta test the waters with and find out what works.

long message short: most likely if you closely relate how you express/ want intimacy with my comics and art- you may be on the aroace spectrum and also autistic. cause i put way too much of myself into my art and yall keep catching on so i might as well say it

[aleebeesplats]

Soul bond[OUTDATED]

“An eternity alone is a cruel thing to be subjected to. To be surrounded but isolated, heard but forgotten, so powerful, yet so weak at the same time. The story is your life, but is that really all there is to it? Is that why you did it? Allowed them to exist despite the obvious growing issue? You wanted to feel understood despite not knowing who you were or where you began. You’ve crafted life at the expense of their freedom. You’ve replicated freedom through life.”

More info about this au under cut

This really started as a joke cuz I wanted to draw more Stan and Mari friendship art but as god has it it’s not so much a joke anymore(yay). This whole AU centers around Stanley and Mariella “becoming human”.

Character refs for Stan and Mari. I might change some stuff up with their colors and designs but this is the main idea for now.

In this AU Mariella now works in the same building as Stanley and her job is to attend meetings. Employee 317 did this everyday of every month of every year. She first meets Stanley while waiting for those who were supposed to attend, surprised and confused at the sudden disappearance of everyone.

Mariella and Stanley are creations of the Narrator, so they don’t look exactly human because of that.

(They have normal noses in side profiles)

I was inspired by Friday Night Funkin for their stylized faces. In terms of expression they are much more animated in comparison to the Curator or the Narrator.

Speaking of Nar-Nar, here’s the man himself. His first form is more like a “concept” than an actual “appearance” as he didn’t really care about what he looked liked and cared more about getting through with the story. His current form is much more human and he often spends time in it outside of the parable in his office. I wanted to keep his figure blocky and sharp cuz I went by squares as his main image.

Now the Parable wouldn’t be anything without the building, lo and behold “Coworker”.

I suck at drawing buildings, but for all you need to know for now is that it always expanding in the inside (where the story takes place), and also it is alive, capable of thought and emotion to some extent. Yayyy living infrastructure.

Some additional early sketches I made while trying to figure out stuff.

I thought it would be funny if Nar and Curie dated for a week before realizing they swung different ways. Things are good between them but it’s a little awkward at times. I was stuck between making Nar-Nar an eldritch creature or just an old man, but then again why can’t he do both.

Quick height chart doodle. The egotistical old man strikes once again, he really made himself so tall because he thinks it’s funny being able to see over people’s heads. In a way they look like Kirby to him.

That’s it for now. I’ll try to not burn myself out so that I can draw more for this au. It seems shallow right now but that’s on purpose‼️

Also, none of the things I draw in this AU are meant to be romantic. They are Queer-platonic at most. This is just me exploring bonds in hard times +what it means to be human (self-projecting like hell).