#this is bad but ive missed them too much to fully care

[fightwing]

brings him a big belly burger and large fries on his lunch break / @cowlled

similar to seeing lex luthor at the hairdressers, seeing bruce wayne out of gotham was a bit jarring. the little bell over the gymnastics' gym rang pleasantly, a soft little chime that just helped the general ebb and flow of business, and while it was a bit early for pick up, dick knew some parents liked to arrive early and watch for a bit. luckily, kate was instructing today and dick was just working on some more clerical things until later, passing time by running over the books at the front desk and he gives a pleasant 'welcome!' to the new addition, and goes back to his work like any other day. only to promptly do a double take. BRUCE WAYNE. in BLUDHAVEN . civvie clothes on and greasy bag in hand like he was just casually bringing his eldest lunch and dick realizes with surprising slowness that's actually probably exactly what's happening. " dad? " he says, a bit startled. he knows from the lack of background noise people were probably watching the encounter but dick was still kicking his brain back into working mode. bruce, without his cowl, unannounced, in the daytime and in bludhaven. shit, what went wrong? " dad! " he corrected, standing a bit belatedly to fully welcome him in. his suit was stashed in the backroom and it was likely empty by now so he could probably slip out with minimal to no complaints. he'd have to call carol to cover for him for the afternoon shift, but that shouldn't be a problem with how much the kids loved her. dick nodded them back to his office, words trailing behind him, keeping the pleasantries up he takes a spare second to tease b until they were alone " finally get the bludhaven bug? "

[strange-dreams-are-made-of-these]

Playing Games With This Old Heart

Summary: You need to make cash fast after losing your job. After stumbling on a job, you can't help but to think about your first customer. And he can't get you out of his head.

Warnings: no smut, no fluff, still MDNI as this will be a planned series, canon typical violence, hints of death of a loved one (prior to story), animal death (bear), angst, Female Mutant!Reader with regenerative healing factor.

A/N: It's been two years since ive poste dont his account, so i hope you guys wont hold that against me. Please take this sample of a fic with our favorite X-Man.

Word Count: 4.7 k words

The days were shifting between the long summer heat and a cooler breeze as the leaves started to change from their usual green and full thick coverings to reds, yellows, and browns before leaving their life-sustaining tree and falling to the ground. There was something subtle about the sound of leaves crunching under ones footstep that somehow felt calming. The ground around your home was littered with the fine needles of the Douglas Fir trees that had a very distinct pine smell to them. It was a welcoming smell for you, having lived the majority of your life in rural Montana, the fresh smell of pine felt like home.

The colorful coat of the Maine Coon cat you owned stood out against the green throw blanket placed on the couch, the place he dubbed his spot. His name was Felix and he had been your fury best friend of nearly six years now. He showed up one day on your doorstep when it was raining with his mother. Not knowing much about cats, but knowing they were hungry, you couldn't help but open the last can of tuna you had in your pantry, draining it of its liquid before setting it out for the mother and son cats to eat. His mother trusted you enough to leave her son with you before leaving, never to be seen again. You often wondered what happened to the little minx of a feline, though you were happy to assure her you could take care of her baby.

"Okay, Felix. I'm going into town. Don't miss me too bad while I'm gone, okay?" You chuckle a little watching him as he stretches out, adjusting your jacket in the process. With keys in hand, wallet in your warm coat, and a fully charged phone, you left your home. Your next-door neighbor was only five miles away, as was his other neighbor. The only thing you had to worry about here were bears, mountain lions, and wolves showing up unannounced during meal times. Thankfully the only time you spotted any of the three was during their migration journeys at quite the distance from your porch to the open land headed out toward the lake where they could get their fill of fresh fish and other small creatures that dwelled there.

You kept your distance, you respected their space, and in turn, they stayed away from you. Just how it should have been.

Hoping into your truck, an old one of your father's, you kick it into gear and leave your driveway. The roads were bumpy as the broken rock and dirt shifted under the weight of the truck, bouncing you a little as you made the drive into town. There were a few things you needed to make it through the week: gasoline, and a refill of your water containers. One was used for cooking and drinking, one was used for bathing, and the third was the backup. Being out in these parts, you had to prepare for the unthinkable. Trees block major routes to give supplies, unpredictable weather, and supply shortages.

Another thing you would have liked to get was a fresh cut of meat for dinner. Depending on what was at the store would determine the dinner in store for you. Grilled fish? sounded nice. A steak could have been as equally nice to eat.

Though, there was another reason for your outing today. Since Mr. Kirkwood had sold his farm, you had been out of a job and had been running low on funds. You had to find a job today, any job. Anything that would provide you cash for hard work to continue to provide for yourself and Felix. Stocking shelves at the only grocery store in town? Perfect! Cutting down trees for the logging company? You're the girl for the job, nevermind you have never cut a vertical tree before, only when they were already grounded.

You just needed any job, one that you can continue to live your life.

--

Parking the truck, you walked to the bed, picking up the water containers, two in one hand and the third in the other. Thankfully there had been a man coming out of the store, seeing your hands full he held it open for you. You thanked him, recognizing him as one of your father's old co-workers. You nodded to each other, letting him go back to his day as you entered the door.

"There she is, I was wondering when you would be coming back. I hadn't seen you in a few days," came the beckoning voice of the store's owner, Mr. Morgan. He was almost like an uncle to all of the younger people in town, being about thirty-five and younger. You were toward the older end of his infinite nieces and nephews, though he would swear you were his favorite.

"I was able to get an extra day or two in on my stock. I call that quite the accomplishment."

"Did you make it last longer, or did you go without longer than usual?" He questioned you, peering over his glass at you as you set the water containers down. He knew what your current situation was, but at the end of the day, he still had a business to run. "I can't do anything for you today until you pay your tab." He was serious, but he had a little glint in his eye as if letting a loved one down.

You looked at him, your once welcoming face now placid. "Mr. Morgan, please. You know I'm good for the money." you fished around in your jacket, pulling out the last thirty-seven dollars and change you had. You knew it wouldn't cover your tab plus what you needed, but you also knew he had a business to run. "I just need a little more time. And some supplies. Please."

It was a plea, a simple one. Though you knew he was the holder behind how the rest of your week was going to go. "I'll stock shelves for you to pay the rest of my tab. I'll scrub the floors with a toothbrush. I'm willing to work."

He took his glasses off, looking at the cash in front of him. He didn't want to see anybody struggling, but he couldn't ignore his debts. He shuffled the money around, taking thirty dollars for himself and handing you the seven dollars and change back. "I can't afford to add anybody else to my payroll, or else I would. You can have one water refill, a full tank of gas, and some cat food. Nothing more."

You stared at him, lips parted as if to protest the money exchange, but the sound of the bells chiming against the door flooded those thoughts. You reached for the cash, scooping the change into your hand. All you could muster was a simple "Thank you." Moving the water containers to the side, you placed two of the containers into the designated area, then took one to the refill station, and filled the water container.

You had to figure something out and fast.

--

A newly filled water container was placed in the truck bed, a full tank of gas in your truck, and a sack of wet and dry cat food sat on the passenger floorboard. Looking around the small main street of the town where ninety percent of the town's businesses resided, you decided to leave your truck where it was. You were on the hunt for a job, and you were damn determined to find employment by the end of the day.

You used your side view mirror to make sure your hair looked fine, adjusting the collar of your jacket and shirt, you straightened up peering back at the main street. The best way to start job hunting was to start at the end of the street and work your way back down, entering every business you spotted. The good thing about small towns was all you needed was to name-drop a couple of people, resumes didn't hold up well.

The bad thing about small towns was that everybody needed work. Store owner after store owner denied your requests. The pawn shop wasn't looking for new employees, the liquor store had too many employees as is, and the antiquities store only hired their family members. The options were dwindling down, and soon you were nervous you were going to have to find a creative way to make money or even worse, entertain the thought of being a lot lizard.

The only two businesses left were the diner on the right side of the street and the motel at the end of the road. Either of them could have positions open, yet they could also deny you a job opening. You had to hope they had an opening somewhere, knowing you were not creative enough to make and sell items for cash. You didn't own many items to sell, beyond the couch, a cot you used to sleep on, and the few little trinkets you received when her father died. The most expensive item you owned was more than likely the truck, and selling it would mean nearly desertion at your home.

Without another thought, you crossed the street as a logging truck passed in front of you. You made some eye contact with the driver, making sure you waited until he drove in front of you before crossing the street.

As you pushed open the doors of the diner, a woman ten years your senior greeted you. "Have a seat wherever you want, sweetheart."

You crossed the room, taking a seat in front of her as she cleaned the counter space. "I know you are busy, and I don't want to take up too much of your time. I'm looking for a job. Mr. Morgan told me you might have something open here?"

The woman looked up from her work, eyeing you down after you mentioned Mr. Morgan. Her ginger curly hair cascaded down her shoulders as she shifted her weight. "Mr. Morgan, huh?" It was hard to tell by her expression, but she seemed to be thinking about something.

The door opened again, and a young blonde woman entered appearing slightly disheveled as if she had just woken up. "I'm here, Rebecca."

The woman in front of you, Rebecca as you read the name tag, turned her body toward the younger woman, then looked to the clock. She placed one hand on her hip. "Only two hours late." She looked between you and the woman, a mischievous look in her eyes. "I told you, show up on time or don't show up at all."

The blonde woman huffed a little, crossing her arms. "It's not like anybody else wants this job."

Rebecca smirked, walking around the counter toward the woman. "Actually she does." She was quick to snatch the apron from the blonde woman. "Clean your uniform and have it dropped by the end of the week, then you will get your check." She then tossed the apron to you, catching it effortlessly.

The blonde huffed, storming out of the diner and throwing a couple of curses in the air. "Your shift starts now. Take a menu, and study it between customers. Orders go to Big Ben. Don't ask us why we call him that and don't make any eye contact. Burgers are made to order, the soup of the day is Italian wedding, and you can give me your jacket."

Her orders came quickly as you stood up, removing your jacket and tying the apron around your waist. There had been a little notebook in the apron and a pen, thankfully saving your ass as you wrote down the notes she gave you. The doorbell rang again, the older woman looked at you with a questionable look. That was your cue, time to work. "Take a seat wherever you want." You nodded, taking a menu in your hands and walking up to your first-ever customer.

--

As his boots made contact with the ground below him, the man took a moment to adjust his shoulders, rolling them a couple of times as he stretched. He could have sworn the truck cabs were getting smaller and smaller, almost feeling his head touch the rooftop. At least he could rest comfortably during his lunch break. He had contemplated having a liquid diet for lunch paired with a cigar, but the smell of greasy burgers filled his nostrils. Tucking the keys of the truck in his vest pocket, Logan walked toward to diner.

He passed by an unruly blonde woman, muttering under her breath about being fired barely filling his ears. He persisted in, entering the diner. Not looking up, he heard the greeting offered to him, hearing two different footsteps filling the diner. One was the small heels clicking against the tile floors. The other was boots muffled against the tile. A small pair of hands moved to set a menu down in front of him, along with what looked like one single-ply napkin and a fork. "What can I get started for you?"

Logan still hadn't looked up yet, looking at the laminated two-sided menu in front of him. "Coffee." He blurted, though wishing he could have an iced beer with his food. The woman left his table, rounding the counter and finding the coffee pot and cups. A minute may have passed by as he scanned the menu. He wasn't that much of a picky eater, as long as it used to have a heartbeat, he was fine.

The mug was set down in front of him, steam rolling off the black liquid. "I'll have the cheeseburger and fries." He picked up the menu, handing it back to the waitress. That was when he finally turned to look at her, remembering her as the woman who crossed the street behind him. She didn't seem to be dressed for work, not like the other woman who was behind the counter now fiddling with some dishes.

"You got it." She left the table, and walked over to the window, setting a ticket in the designated space that the other woman told her about. His hand wrapped around the mug in front of him, looking outside as he silently observed the town. He was in this stretch of land only long enough to get him enough cash to figure out his next move. He didn't like to stay in the same place too long, maybe a year or two at most. He didn't mind the small circles running in this part of the state, but he knew that if he wanted to go somewhere else he would have to figure it out soon before the snow moved in.

What felt like ten minutes had passed before the woman came back, setting his plate in front of him. "Can I get you anything else?"

He shook his head, brushing her off. As she left, she could smell a strong scent of pine around her, as if she herself was a pine tree. It wasn't a disheartening smell, something he actually liked.

Another set of diners came in, sitting a few booths behind Logan. As he ate his food all he could hear was her voice, despite there being a total of seven beings in the diner he could hear. Somehow her voice was the loudest in his mind. Not the heartbeats of the seven people, not his heartbeat, not her heartbeat. Her voice.

As he finished the food in front of him, she walked over to him, leaving his ticket and grabbing the empty plate. "Do you want a cup for the road?"

He reached into his vest pocket, pulling out a billfold. "Yeah, sounds good."

She returned with his to-go coffee, handing it over to him as he left cash on the table, adjusting his shirt collar. "Here, let me get your change."

"Keep it." He walked out of the diner, making a bee-line for his truck, fighting everything in him to talk to her again. Little did he know, that wasn't going to be their only interaction for the day.

--

The daylight began to dissipate, street lights were turning on and the neon signs from the only bar in town began to glow. Rebecca presented to you with a powder blue uniform dress. The diner and the employees looked as if they hadn't left the fifties, just as the regular customers liked to relive. "You did good, peanut. The job is yours. Your next shift is tomorrow, Nine to five, be here no less than ten minutes before clocking in tomorrow. I'll have some shoes for you. Can't have my girls in boots for service."

You took the uniform and hanger, nodding. "Yes ma'am."

Rebecca giggled a little. "Oh darlin', I'm no ma'am. You can call me Becky."

Parting ways with your new manager, you left the diner, uniform in hand and some tips in your apron. You couldn't help but think about the first customer you had that day, a man appearing around your age, how quick your interactions were, but how he almost seemed disinterested in interacting with you. Was it possible he was a regular of the blonde woman? He paid his bill, he tipped you, and you went on about your day. That was all you could ask for.

Returning to your truck still parked in front of the grocery store, you set your items down in the cab. Peering to the bed of the truck, you huff as you realize your water container is missing. At least the thief had the balls to leave your empty gas container. Mr. Morgan's place was closed for the night, so you would have to swing by the store after work. "Cowards." you hum to yourself, getting in the truck and turning over the engine.

Returning home, you fed Felix with the food you acquired today. Becky made sure you had something to eat as well before you left the diner, though Big Ben had made a comment about it. This only solved three of your problems for the day. You still needed to wash up, and without the water container, you only had one choice.

The easiest thing would be to take a bucket to the lake and boil the water before using it to wash up. Not thinking clearly either, you left the house without any type of protection, knowing you were just getting water and heading back to the house. The only light you had to help you was the half-moon above you.

Unknown to you, the man from the diner had followed you home, wondering what you were up to. He wished he could understand what was happening, but your voice was all he could hear and focus on the rest of the day. His truck was parked in the woods opposite your home, and he stood in the tree line listening to the orchestra of insects and animals around the both of you. Foxes howled in the far distance, deer were settling in for the night. But there was another predator within the vicinity, one unbeknownst to you.

You kneeled down to fill the metal bucket with water, you were being watched by a wolverine and a black bear. A bear looking for its next meal, and a wolverine searching for answers, only to find more problems in his way.

The grunt of the bear finally caught your attention. It had been nearly twenty feet in front of you, standing on a rock as it discarded the fish carcass in its claws. He smelled bigger game, and his blood lust was all he could focus on.

Leaving the bucket still in the water, you slowly stood up, keeping your hands to your sides. It stayed on its rock, turning toward you. It must have been fully grown, which spelled danger for you. Black bears did not care and would defend themselves to the death, even if it was not threatened.

Seconds felt like minutes as the bear finally stood up, roaring before falling to all fours and darting toward you. There was no way you could outrun a bear, let alone rely on your home to defend you. Laying down now meant instant death for you. Climbing trees was out of the question.

Your heart pounded in your chest with every footfall, knowing the longer you thought about survival, the more your chances diminished.

The bear caught up to you, pinning you down and tossing you around. Your screams filled the space of the open field around you. Claws tore into your skin and clothes as you felt warm blood escape your body.

Snikt

The bear roared out, turning its attention away from you to something else, attacking it. The sounds of two animals tousling with each other filled the air, but after one minute, the bear grew quiet, a distinct thud was heard as its body fell to the ground.

Something rushed up to you, and before you could react, you felt human hands touching your body. "No, no, no."

You looked up to see the man from the diner hovering over you as his knees collided with the ground next to you. His face was bleeding, but as you watched him, you saw his wounds close and heal within seconds. Almost just like...

He observed you, looking at where your wounds were.

Or used to be.

You sat up, scooting away from him a little. Breathing heavily, the both of, you looked at his tattered clothes and blood stains. yet there was an absence of wounds. "What are you?" You asked hurriedly.

He stared at you, his eyes dancing the same tango where your wounds used to be. "I could ask you the same." He ran a hand over his hair before standing up. He offered you a hand, however you didn't take it. Brushing yourself off from the dirt.

"Nothing happened here, okay?"

Logan turned toward you as he watched you walk back to the lake, picking up the bucket of water.

You realized what you said sounded harsh, and that wasn't your nature. Closing your eyes briefly, you look back at the man. "I have some clothes in my house. I can at least give you something to replace those."

He watched you begin walking toward the cabin you called home. Taking a moment, he decided to follow in your footsteps, quickly matching your pace to walk with you. "I saw you get attacked by that bear. I can see the blood." His eyes scan over your back, where layers of clothes are torn. Not just your jacket, but your shirt, and an undershirt.

You swung open the door of your cabin after walking up the little set of stairs on your porch. "Not to sound like a broken record, but, I can ask you the same."

After both of you were in the cabin, you set the bucket down next to the woodfire stove, pulled some of the water into a pot, then set it on the surface of the stove to boil the water. You then opened up a door, the only closet space in your cabin. There was a box labeled Dad's clothes written in neat handwriting. You pushed it out to the side, then grabbed two jackets. "Here, pick out what you want."

He looked at you, unsure of the idea. There was more to ask now, and he wasn't so sure where to start. He watched as you moved around in the cabin, picking up a little bowl and scooping its contents into a bowl. He could smell the cat, but not see it. He looked around, wondering where it was.

You observed his behavior, wondering what he was doing. Clearing your throat, you took a stab in the dark. "His name is Felix. He doesn't like strangers. If I had to guess, he is on my bed, or under it."

He smirked a little, knowing his suspicion had been confirmed. He approached the box, opening it to look at the different shirts and pants inside.

You observed him, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the wall. "Why are you out here?" You were thankful he showed up when he did, knowing you didn't have many defenses against the bear beyond how you healed.

Instead of giving a bullshit answer or response, he turned to look at you, a gray flannel in hand. "I was just passing through." He lied.

You shook your head, eyeing him as you lowered an eyebrow. "No, you didn't. Nobody passes through this place." Sighing a little, you felt a tug in your back. "Look, I've had a somewhat normal life here, have my entire life. I don't really have anything else to go to, or the drive to go anywhere else. I'll tell you what I can do, and I can answer any questions you have. Then we can part our separate ways. Sound like a deal?"

Logan stood up, tossing the flannel over his shoulder. He held his hands up to his sides, shrugging his shoulders. "I won't complain." He didn't know where this would lead him, but the thought of getting some answers meant his trip wouldn't be wasted.

Nodding, you rolled the sleeve of your torn jacket up, exposing the lower part of your arm to him. you pulled one of the logs out of the stove, holding the unburned end in your hand. The other side was on fire. You held your arm out in front of you, then pressed the fire to your skin, doing your best to stifle the groans from the injury. Pulling the log away, the third-degree burn healed almost instantly as tissue, muscles, and skin grew back together. After showing him the display of your power, you put the log back in the stove. "I was never sick as a child. injured that should have resulted in broken bones never bothered me."

Logan watched you burn yourself and then heal almost instantly. He hadn't met anyone before who had the same healing rate as he did. What were the odds of meeting another mutant out in the middle of nowhere Montana?

"Can I show you what I can do?" He asked, watching your every moment with precision. As he watched you nod, he moved his right hand to cross in front of him. Slowly, the sound of moving metal filled the air as three long knife-like appendages emerged between his knuckles. You stared in a mix of awe and confusion. He smirked, then sliced the pad of his left hand, showing you his own healing rate.

What caught him off guard was how you began to approach him, though it was a slow approach. On instinct, he retracted his claws, the spaces where they had once been healing up. "Does it hurt?" You ask him, rubbing your own knuckles where the blades would have been.

He didn't know how to feel, knowing that the two of you were just strangers passing in the night. "Every damn time." His voice was above a whisper, as if afraid the tone of his voice would break the sound barrier.

Silent moments passed between the two of you, tension filling the air. He couldn't stand it anymore as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "I should really get going," he spoke, stepping around you. Dazed little you finally felt you weren't the only one anymore.

You turned around to face him as he approached your door. "You know, I have a shift at the diner tomorrow. Maybe you'll happen to forget your lunch and have to stop by the diner?"

He should say no. He should be grabbing his things and heading out of town as quickly as possible. He should put this place in his rearview mirror and forget anything that happened there. But the drum of your heartbeat spoke bigger volumes than his brain did.

"We'll see." He nodded, thanking you silently with a gesture of the shirt before leaving your cabin, and walking toward his truck. He needed out of there as quickly as possible. Another moment with you could have sent him into a coma. How beautiful you smelled, how kind you were. Even though you were quick to block him earlier and run away, you still let him into your home and offered him a simple reward for saving your life.

It was almost too intoxicating to think about. And the promise of tomorrow could never come any sooner.

[dandylovesturtles]

Sidelined AU Info Post

Alright, I guess we're doing this

CWs: mentions of internalized ableism, struggles with mental health

Timeline:

all of S1 is the same as in canon up until End Game

however, after Splinter turns over the helmet to Draxum, Draxum does not put on the armor, but chooses to put Leo inside instead, realizing that whoever goes in will probably have something horrible happen to them. that's detailed in this fic

unlike Draxum, who gets spit out of the armor immediately, Leo ends up trapped inside. from Leo's perspective, he is only vaguely aware of what's happening outside (it's a bit sunken place-ish, with him seeing snatches of events like through a grainy television), and he has only small amounts of influence over what the armor does

once Feral Shredder is on the loose, he pretty immediately starts destroying the Hidden City. Draxum realizes that he has inadvertently released a great evil on his people, the exact opposite of what he wanted, and he turns to the Hamatos to help him stop it. obviously they don't want to work with Draxum, but they have to get Leo back so they take the help

it takes them two days, during which the Shredder moves up to start terrorizing New York as well, but eventually they get him subdued. I'm not 100% on what goes down yet or whether Big Mama gets involved (I'm leaning toward not), but Leo fighting from the inside is a big help

Leo is removed from the armor and is in really bad physical shape; meanwhile the Shredder is subdued for now. in the immediate aftermath, the Foot Clan manages to get ahold of the Shredder and take off with him

he's too weak to do anything immediately but he is very much a Looming Threat the family is aware of

Draxum leaves for awhile at this point because none of them want him around and seeing Leo in the aftermath did wake him up to "oh yeah that's just a kid and I did that to him," also he's feeling real bad about that whole "accidentally almost destroying the yokai and also maybe the world" thing

meanwhile, Leo is severely weakened, but there's not anything that the family can do to hasten his recovery. they can only get him hooked up to an IV for fluids and nutrients and wait

it takes Leo a few days to become fully lucid again; during that time he tries to fight anyone around him off or sometimes pushes his family away to "protect" them

eventually Leo does regain lucidity, he tells everyone he's fine but he's Super Depressed. he's also lost his mystic powers completely.

Splinter also retreats a bit at this point, because he feels guilt for handing the helmet over to Draxum instead of trying to find a different way to rescue his boys, which isn't a great thing for him to do but his mental health is also not doing very well (someone get these guys some therapy)

in the meantime the bros and April manage the best they can, they all have different approaches but I'll go into detail about that in the next section

there's no treatment for Leo's condition outside the most boring one: time, exercise, and diet. unsurprisingly he hates this

Healing Bad Times abound, as shown in this fic

eventually the boys have to go out on a mission again. Leo, feeling useless, listens in on the comms from the lair, and ends up catching something the other boys' missed, meaning he's able to save them from a trap or something idk exactly what the point is he makes himself useful

this opens up a new path for Leo, one his brothers very heavily encourage

with a new goal in mind, Leo starts taking a lot better care of himself, actually following his physical therapy routine, spending time gaining new skills, and accepting help in the form of mobility aids. his physical and mental health both start making big improvements

this also helps his dad's mental health, everyone is doing better even if things aren't perfect

Donnie builds Leo a command center modeled after the bridge of Jupiter Jim's ship, he absolutely loves it. whenever the boys+April are on missions, Leo is in his command center helping from the background

eventually Leo has gotten to the point where he has enough strength for day to day life most of the time, he still isn't fighting baddies on rooftops but he can get to a store and back without collapsing on a good day and that's pretty good!

the Foot Clan has been a much bigger threat in this version of S2 and it's clear they're up to something big

of course right when Leo is starting to feel stable and happy again, that's when they launch their final attack

a lot of the finale events go down similarly to how they do in canon, minus Battle Nexus New York. they get Karai back but then she dies, Shredder destroys their home (including Leo's command center :c ), everything is Bad

Leo gets his mystic powers back the same way his brothers do, though he needs a little bit of an extra helping nudge from April/Karai, since he didn't think that was a thing he could still do

everyone getting their mystic powers is emotional but it's especially emotional for Leo. he didn't even know what ninpo was before today, but he knew after the Shredder it was like some part of his soul got locked away, and now that he can feel it again he finally feels whole

it gives him a burst of adrenaline so he can participate in the fight, though he doesn't do much of the actual battling, instead getting his bros where they need to be for the big hits (I mean this is basically what he does anyway haha)

it takes Donnie exactly .02 seconds to figure out how to use his own mystic powers to support Leo physically so that helps

after this, Leo becomes a more constant part of the team in the field, though he still primarily works as support and only gets into direct fights when he feels like he has to

instead of being made leader like in canon, Leo and Raph become co-leaders. Leo's own leadership abilities have improved massively, but Raph has more experience in the field, so having the two of them working together means they cover each other's blind spots, and the division of labor is less stressful for both of them

since Leo's already been through his character development and this tension is gone the movie events play out totally differently but I haven't gotten that far yet lol. I'm sure the apocalypse still happens somehow, though, I'd hate to lose Casey Jr

happy ending whooo

Relationships

Raph

Raph feels a lot of guilt about what happened to Leo; he was supposed to protect his little brothers and he didn't, and now one of them has permanent physical disabilities as a result. add to that it was Raph's idea to be heroes in the first place and yeah... he's not doing great

because of this guilt, Raph's instinct is to essentially baby Leo - he wants to take care of his every need as soon as it arises. this makes Leo feel stifled and infantilized, and drives a wedge in their relationship (the same one Raph is driving between himself and Mikey, in fact)

his and Donnie's distinctly different approaches to the situation also mean that they get into arguments often and can't really deal with being around each other, leaving Raph feeling isolated at the start (and thus pouring more attention and effort into Leo, which compounds the problem)

Raph dealing with his own guilt and trying to find the balance between helping Leo while also respecting his need for independence, boundaries, and dignity is a big part of his journey in the AU, and it also improves his relationship with Mikey and Donnie as he gets better at those skills

Donnie

Donnie is not dealing well with the fact that there's nothing to fix. they can only be patient and work incrementally to improve Leo's condition

he distracts himself by putting all his energy into making the lair accessible for Leo, building him mobility aids and doing everything he can to help

he also has a hard time understanding why Leo won't do the things that will help him (at first), because doesn't he just want things to go back to normal? doesn't he want to help himself? why won't he just do what he obviously has to do, Donnie does not understand

Leo is deep in denial at first, and he feels like he breaks down and starts doing physical therapy and using mobility aids and doing basically any of the things that will help him, that means it's not going to magically get better, it's going to take time and effort and it will probably never be fixed, just improved, and he hates that so much he's choosing to treat this like a temporary cold or flu that will blow over any day now

Donnie doesn't understand that so he takes Leo's refusal as a rejection and animosity abounds!

breakdowns and admissions of feelings will eventually happen

Donnie and Leo together come to grips with the idea that there is no fixing this and there is no return to how things were before but they can work toward a new normal that's just as good

Mikey

this one is a little bit too big for Dr. Delicate Touch and Dr. Feelings

Mikey tries, but he is just a kid, and with their dad emotionally retreating too there's just too many feelings for him to deal with on his own

he's gonna play family therapist until he breaks

he's frustrated because he can see what each of his brothers need to do to feel better but they just! won't! they won't do it, and he doesn't know how to make them

he's really stressed

it's Mikey that realizes that Leo needs goals to work toward to get himself motivated to take care of himself, and it's Mikey who pushes the hardest for Leo's new role in the team

sometimes Mikey will challenge Leo to something silly, like who can make the most throws of a paper ball into a trash can, just to push Leo into exercising

he finds other little ways to help the others too, but he still can't solve the big problems on his own

meltdown ensues

Mikey has to learn to take care of himself, too, while the others have to learn they can't lean so hard on him for all their emotional problems

April

the only one holding on around here. it helps that she doesn't actually have to live in the powderkeg

takes a rationally minded approach to all these problems, kind of functioning like family therapist along with Mikey but in a healthier and more controlled way

helps get them resources from above ground

Leo opens up the most about his feelings about his physical condition to her first, because she strikes the best balance between being a sympathetic ear without coddling him

she's also stressed, but she has an outside support network so she's handling it better

Splinter

fully blames himself for what happened to Leo and has a hard time getting over it

depression in full swing

it means he can't easily get out of bed to help his kids, but then he feels bad because he isn't helping them, which worsens the depression, which makes it hard to get out of bed... a vicious cycle

when Leo starts working on his condition he gets a pact out of his dad that they will both work on being healthier together

maybe they manage to find an actual therapist eventually idk lol

either way, Splinter and Leo grumpily sitting over their plate of broccoli and then Leo says "bet I can eat more pieces than you" and it's on son

he's trying his best

Leo's Condition

Leo came out of the armor severely dehydrated and malnourished, even more so than any person should realistically be after two days; just keeping him from dying of the dehydration was the most immediate struggle

the main issue is that Leo's life force, mystic abilities included, were basically sucked out, leaving his body catastrophically physically weak

his muscle mass can come back with time and diet

the bigger problems are the bone density and chronic fatigue. while Leo can improve these, they'll never be back to where they were before the Dark Armor

his reduced bone density means he has to be careful doing anything physical because the chance he can break a bone is much higher than average, and he stands to suffer more from that break than the average person

he'll eventually get to where he can go through his day-to-day life just fine most days, and can even do some of the physical things he enjoyed before, he just has to be careful and know his limits. he'll never be pulling the 1440 off the halfpipe again, but he can still skateboard as long as he's careful.

even when recovered (as much as he can be), he has bad days and days when the fatigue is really strong. how Leo feels on a bad day is up in the air; sometimes he's at peace with it and generally cheerful, happy to be around his family even if he spends most of the time in his chair or on the couch dozing in and out. other days the depression rears its ugly head and he can get a bit nasty and bitter again. his family is much more patient with him on days like that than he is with himself.

in the beginning Leo also has brain fog and sensitivity to light and sound. these clear up over time, especially once Leo starts making more effort to exercise his brain. he starts reading a lot more and doing puzzles, especially things like sudoku and word puzzles, which helps a lot. thankfully these changes aren't permanent

his inner ears were also damaged a bit, this also heals up largely on its own, sometimes he still has difficulties hearing his brothers if they're whispering or far away but it's not so bad he needs assistance

Leo's Devices

Wheelchair

this is obviously the one Donnie had the most fun building and it shows. this baby is tricked out. Leo also likes to suggest improvements often, some for actual functionality but many just because he thinks it would be cool (like neon lights on the spokes)

it is blue obviously. do you even need me to tell you that?

it's fully electronic but Leo can also wheel it around freely if he wishes. Leo likes to wheel himself when he has the energy because it's good exercise he doesn't have to go out of his way for and he just likes feeling like he's moving himself under his own power. but when he's not feeling up to it he just drives it with the electronic controls instead

it has handles that extend and retract. being allowed to touch the handles is a major sign of Leo's trust and initially it's only for his bros + April + Splinter. Leo hates being moved when he doesn't actually ask to be moved, and he also hates being tipped backwards so his fam knows not to do it even as a joke (and it's so heavy that tipping him is kind of hard, anyway). someone touching the handles or messing around with them without permission gets you immediate backlash from protective siblings

that said Leo has them extended often so he can hang things off them, even though Donnie constantly gripes that that is not their intended purpose!

Sr Hueso is another person who gets handle-touching-privileges pretty fast, and he's also the one Leo asks to move him most often because he thinks it's really funny. he hams it up every time. Hueso is exasperated but does it anyway

(if Hueso adds a few extra wheelchair-accessible tables to Run of the Mill no one has to know)

the chair can also be moved by S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. this is mostly just for emergency situations, or times when the chair is somewhere Leo is not. Shelldon is a very good boy who does not move the chair without Leo's permission.

it has a billion storage spaces and little hidey holes and it can sync with Leo's phone to play music and it also has a charge port for his phone and yeah basically anything Leo and Donnie can come up with goes into this thing. it's a behemoth

Donnie also made Leo a lighter-weight chair with fewer features that he most often uses when he's good using his walker/cane/braces but wants to clear a larger distance first, and eventually Donnie makes him an athletic wheelchair so he can play games like wheelchair basketball

Walker

the walker is also blue but there's nothing particularly special about it

Leo hates using it because it feels like an old person thing. even if realistically he knows there are plenty of reasons people use them, including his own situation, culture is culture and it makes him feel bad no matter what rationality states

so basically once he doesn't have to use it he doesn't

as they all get more comfortable with Leo's situation and he starts openly using humor to cope, jokes about Leo's chair and cane become pretty commonplace in the fam (all good-natured of course). they know the walker is too much of a sore spot though, and poking fun at it is the fastest way to get Leo to do something stupid, so no one does. it's better to just pretend it's not there

Crutches/Canes

he eventually ends up with a variety of these, with different levels of support depending on what he's needing on a given day.

some of the canes are more fashionable than others. this is important to him.

Leo pretty much always has one of these on hand just in case, even on days where he feels alright to walk on his own

he is not afraid to bonk a brother with a cane or crutch but he does so knowing they are free to retaliate

Leg Braces

Leo doesn't need these every day but they're a pretty standard part of his wardrobe at this point

they start out plain but get increasingly elaborately decorated as time goes on because he, Donnie, and Mikey can't help themselves

like the walker, the braces are in the "don't make fun of" zone, though Leo is happy to get positive comments about them and doesn't really need their presence ignored

Other Mobility Aids

Leo has a variety of things to help with his loss of grip strength, difficulties bending over, tremors, etc. all of them are either made by Donnie or ethically "acquired" by April

he drives everyone crazy by leaving them in random places and then forgetting where they are. Donnie starts installing locator tags on everything they give Leo

jokes about these are fine, Leo makes them often himself and has silly names for all of them (this also drives Donnie crazy)

[starsstuddedsky]

Blonde Phase

Renjun x gn reader

summary: spontaneous hair decisions always end in regret. that's what you expect to hear when you tell renjun you're bleaching your hair, but instead you find support, and even his help. you should appreciate his wholehearted support but instead it has you wondering: why doesn't he care?

genre: fluff, minimal angst, technically they're in grad school but that's not particularly relevant, non idol au,

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, spontaneous hair decisions (i do not endorse), lmk if I missed any

wc: 4.4k

a/n: in the immortal words of charles boyle, the most intimate thing you can do with a lover is wash their hair. yknow i made fun of him for that until i wrote this. i see it. also its been so long since ive finishing anything, pls forgive me if this is bad. renjun i love u. as always I'd love to hear what you think <3

“I’m bleaching my hair.” If you say it fast enough, Renjun won’t be able to talk you out of it. The plastic bag swings around your wrist as you walk across the parking lot. “I’ve already bought the bleach and gloves and stuff, and I’m going to do it, today.”

He’s quiet for so long you check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Okay.”

You almost drop your phone. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Was I supposed to say something else?”

“Um, yeah?” You say. “You have opinions about literally everything. You talked me out of buying those pants two days ago.” You finally get to your car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat and half-falling behind the wheel.

“That’s because they were made of polyester, and the thrift store was still charging $15,” he says immediately. “That was a scam.”

“Money is temporary, drip is forever.”

“Those pants would have lasted a year max, before they fell apart, and you still haven’t learned how to sew so you wouldn’t even be able to mend them or upcycle them.”

“You know what, I didn’t buy the pants, so this fight is moot,” you say. You set the phone on speaker, turning the engine on to blast the AC.

“Well, not moot. Technically I won,” Renjun says.

“I’d respect you more if you weren’t insufferable.”

“Here I was thinking you appreciated my insight,” he says. “You even asked for it.”

“I did not!”

“You literally asked about bleaching your hair.”

“I said I was surprised you didn’t have an opinion, not that I wanted to hear it,” you say.

“Semantics,” Renjun says. “So what time do you want to come over?”

You frown. “Tonight?”

“The roommates are out of town for the whole weekend, and I have way better ventilation,” he says. “I’d much rather bleach it without passing out.” He pauses. “You do want help, right?”

“Honestly, I was not expecting support. I was fully ready to fight you on this,” you say.

He snorts. “Come over whenever, I'm not doing anything today.”

“See you in twenty minutes.” You hang up, feeling a strange ball of tension roll around in your gut. That was… too easy? Renjun always has something to say about your admittedly impulsive tendencies. But if he’s going to help you’re not going to reject it—knowing Renjun he’s probably already watching Youtube videos and learning more than you will ever know about bleaching hair.

And it’s Renjun. When have you done anything without his help?

.

.

Renjun opens the door wearing a wearied expression. He doesn’t bother to greet you or even smile, just unlocks the door and steps to the side.

“Hi to you, too,” you say, trading your shoes for the spare slippers resting by the doormat. You follow Renjun into the space that serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, and Jaemin’s miniature gym, with weights and mats stacked next to the television.

“Who the hell clogs a toilet and then leaves for the weekend,” Renjun says.

You set down your plastic bag full of hair products and frown. “That’s disgusting.”

Renjun leans against the counter. “And you didn’t have to spend the last forty minutes trying to unclog it.”

“So which of the guys are you going to murder?” You try to guess, running through his roommates: you find it hard to believe Jaemin would do such a thing. Jeno maybe, and Donghyuck would certainly think it’s funny. But, in all honesty, it could have been any of them.

“Don’t know,” Renjun says, “but knowing them, they’ll make a pact to protect each other.”

“Seriously?”

Renjun pauses, gaze sheepish. “It’s what I did when I accidentally killed Jaemin’s little succulent that survived his college dorm.”

You fake a gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “Every day I learn something new about you. That’s devious.”

“I was drunk!” Renjun says, holding up a finger. “And Jeno and Donghyuck pushed me into it, so it was equally their fault.”

“If you say so.” You glance around the apartment. “Where are they all?”

“Jaemin’s visiting family, Jeno has a soccer tournament, and Donghyuck said he’s going camping with Yangyang.” Renjun says, counting off with his fingers.

“Donghyuck and Yangyang are friends?”

“Yeah, according to them they bonded over dealing with me.”

“Those were their exact words?”

“Dealing with my ‘stupid ass,’” Renjun says.

“That’s more on brand.”

Renjun nods.

You think about Yangyang, Renjun’s friend from when he was a kid. You’ve met him a few times now, especially since he’s moved half an hour away from Renjun. He’s fun, always bringing out a chaotic side of Renjun whether it’s dancing on a bar or bringing out angry-Renjun. But Yangyang and Donghyuck?

“That’s a terrible friendship. They’re going to ruin you.”

Renjun nods again, but you see the smile hiding in his eyes. He can rant all he wants, you know he’s excited his friends are getting closer with each other.

You point at the bag. “So where are we doing this?”

You half expect him to lecture you about rash hair decisions but he just gestures to the kitchen. “I figure right here should be fine. The tiles should be pretty easy to clean and probably could use some bleach anyway.”

He drags the chair with a rickety leg from the dining table. You dig through the bag and set everything on the counter. While Renjun cracks a window open, you begin to mix the developer and the bleach, curling your lip at the sharp scent. Renjun joins you, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Wow that’s strong,” he says, wincing.

“Yeah,” you say. “Definitely a good idea to do it here.”

When the powder is finally combined, you sit on the chair, Renjun following behind you. You section off your hair together, then he grabs the bowl and the brush.

He holds the thick paintbrush brush up against your hair, glancing at you, giving you one last chance to back down. You give him the nod of approval and he shifts back to focusing on your hair, brushing the bleach into it as carefully as he spreads paint on a canvas. He works section by section, carefully drenching your hair with the creamy solution.

“So, are you going to tell me why you decided to do this?”

You can’t resist turning and glancing at him. “I thought you approved.”

“I didn’t try to talk you out of it,” he says, “that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about how you came to this decision.”

You nod until Renjun uses his gloved hand to hold your head straight. “I suppose that’s fair.”

You pause, trying to find the right words. But you find yourself drifting back to Renjun. Why didn’t he ask this before the bleach was in your hair? It’s not like him to keep his opinions to himself. When you first met him, he was yelling at Donghyuck for going to a philosophy seminar just to fight with the notorious bigot of a professor (which Donghyuck did and then got kicked out, and proceeded to get the professor suspended). You only knew Mark back then, a friend from another class who invited you to meet some of his other friends in the dining hall. When Renjun turned to ask what you thought, you said Donghyuck should do what he thinks is right. Renjun didn’t hesitate to call you an idiot then. So why isn’t he calling you an idiot now?

To his credit Renjun doesn’t rush you. He continues to paint the bleach into your hair, content to wait for you to figure out an answer. Except you’re thinking about all the wrong questions. Like, seriously, why do you want him to call you an idiot?

“I want a change,” you finally say. “I’m stuck in a degree that will make me absolutely no money when I graduate, I can’t afford to break my lease, and don’t have any major relationships that need upheaving, so, hair.”

“‘A change?’” Renjun repeats. “Like, you woke up this morning and thought, today I’m going blonde?”

“Like, I have this feeling in my chest, this aching feeling that there’s something I need to do, someone I’m supposed to be, something more than the person I see in the mirror but I’ve made my decisions and I’m happy with my decisions and I genuinely like who I am. So, hair.”

You see Renjun’s hand falter out of the corner of your eye, halfway between the bleach mixture and your hair. He freezes for a heartbeat then continues to move, lifting some hair off your ear, careful not to brush the bleach onto your skin.

“‘So, hair,’” he says.

“Are you really going to repeat everything I say?”

This gets a short laugh from him. “I think the fumes are getting to me already.” He pauses, setting down the brush and stepping in front of you. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are, too. I’m really glad we’re friends.”

You smile at him. “Me too,” you say. “I definitely would have fucked up trying to bleach this on my own.”

.

.

“There’s still some bleach left,” Renjun says after he finishes with your roots. “You’re sure you don’t want your eyebrows to match?”

“Why don’t we do your eyebrows,” you say. “Better yet, why don’t we shave them off?”

Renjun sets down the brush. “Okay, no eyebrows.”

You grin at him. “That’s what I thought.”

He helps you get a plastic bag wrapped securely over your head, then sets the timer.

“What do you want to do for the next half hour?” You ask. “Preferably something that requires little to no movement.” You gesture to your head. “We’re not winning any frisbee tournaments tonight.”

“It was one time,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head and stepping around you plop down onto the couch. “We can watch something.”

You follow him, sitting on the other side, a cushion between you. The space feels strangely empty. Though you’ve spent plenty of time alone with Renjun, even alone with him at his apartment, the silence is usually interrupted by one of the guys getting bored of playing League, or coming back because they can’t go out to a bar without someone forgetting their ID, or in desperate need of Renjun’s expert advice (read: Jeno never remembers to ask Renjun to look over his submissions until 12 minutes before they’re due). The cushion between you never stays empty for long but the moments stretch on, only making the distance feel greater.

You wonder, not for the first time, how long it’s been since you’ve thought of Renjun as just a friend. If he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much about what he thinks. And if he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much that he suddenly doesn’t think.

You sneak a glance at him, fiddling with the remote for a couple seconds before realizing he grabbed the wrong one. He’s certainly always been handsome—that was undeniable from the moment you met him. But more than just being good looking, it’s Renjun himself. Not just those dark eyes, but the way they burn with passion (even when he’s arguing about the proper number of appetizers to order). It’s his perfectly shaped lips, the way they betray how he feels with a slight curve up or down—and his smile. Always, always his smile, beautiful and breathtaking even though you’ve seen it a thousand times.

He turns, a little furrow in his brow. “What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me funny,” he says. “Did I get bleach in my hair or something?”

You turn to face the TV, trying to pay attention to the show Renjun chose. “I wasn’t looking at you funny,” you say. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”

“If you say so,” Renjun says, “but if there’s a blonde spot anywhere in my hair, I’m so making you pay for it.”

You shake your head. Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Renjun, more than a friend? Sure, you’re close with him and sure, he’s objectively attractive, but you’ve never had those thoughts before. Well, at least not sober.

“Um, why are we watching Singles Inferno?”

“Because I asked and you were too busy not staring at me to answer, so I put it on,” Renjun says. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t like it. I saw you rant on your Instagram story the other day.”

“Okay, but you don’t get it,” you say. “This bitch really has the audacity to to—”

“I saw your post,” Renjun says. “Believe me, I get it.”

“If you didn’t want to hear about it you should not have turned it on, because now I can’t stop,” you say. Renjun rolls his eyes but even as you delve into a full on essay about the horrible men particularly common in dating shows, you see the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile.

.

.

The timer goes off halfway through an episode.

“Saved by the buzzer,” Renjun says. “I’m putting a ban on anything reality TV related for the next three hours.”

“You’re the one that brought it up,” you mutter without any real annoyance. Despite his banter, Renjun dutifully listened to your rants, and even got mad along with you.

You drag a chair to the sink while Renjun drapes a towel over your shoulders. He puts on gloves and unwraps the bag, letting your hair fall into the empty sink.

“Close your eyes,” Renjun says gently. He tilts your head back, cupping the back of your head for a moment before pulling the head of the sink faucet out. He runs the water, long enough for you to peek your eyes open.

You’ve gotten used to seeing Renjun focused. He gets a little furrow in his brow, always glaring at his work. Before you were friends, you used to think he was actually angry, that his frowns and short tone were real. You’ve learned since then, it’s not his emotions, it’s his passion. The frown only comes out when he’s focused, trying to be perfect. When he cares.

“Unless you want bleach in them, close your eyes,” Renjun mutters, with absolutely no malice behind the words. His eyes shift to meet yours and that’s how you know you’re right. He can glare and bluster all he wants, he can’t hide his eyes, warm and shining. Like when he’s looking at his art, his gaze is a combination of soft and intense, creating something stronger than affection. Except he’s not looking at his art, he’s looking at you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your heartbeat pick up. Despite every attempt to shut down the thoughts, they race through your head, a stampede grown out of control. Renjun, who you’ve only known a year and a half but who has become one of your closest friends. Renjun, who never fails to share the only opinion you really care about. Renjun, who you can’t imagine life without. Renjun, who you’ve never dared to imagine life with.

He places a hand on your forehead, bringing the faucet closer to rinse your roots while keeping the water from pouring onto your face. You prepare for a cold shock but the water that soaks into your hair is the perfect temperature—not scalding hot, not freezing cold. Some water sprays over his hand, falling onto your eyelids and cheeks.

“Sorry,” Renjun murmurs. He holds the head farther away, running his fingers gently through the roots of your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm against your temple. You can feel his body, hovering over yours, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but warmth seems to emanate from it.

His friends would laugh at you if you described Renjun as soft to their face, but it’s the only adjective that captures the way he works the water through your hair. Soft and gentle and careful and nothing like the Renjun that has to corral everyone into his car at 3 in the morning. And yet this Renjun doesn’t feel like a stranger to you.

Washing your hair takes a lifetime, but as soon as he steps away and turns off the water, you miss it. You miss him, even though he’s only a couple feet away.

“You can open your eyes now,” he says. As soon as you do, he tosses a towel at you. It hits you in the face before you can get your hands up.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” Renjun says, not sounding sorry at all. He manages to hold back the laugh but still grins at you, unashamed. He steps forward and pats your face dry, with the same gentleness as before, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. You yank the towel away before he gets any ideas, drying off your face on your down and wrapping it around your hair. You wring it out a couple times before letting go, doing your best to get it to fall evenly around your head.

You raise your eyebrows at Renjun. “Okay, how bad is it?”

“Okay, first of all, I’m insulted that you think there’s any way I’d fuck up you hair,” Renjun says. “And it looks really good. Blonde suits you.”

You take a deep breath and pull out your phone, studying yourself in the mirror and… he’s right. The color is even, somewhere between blonde and orange that is unavoidable when using bleach. Radical hair changes generally end in tears but looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel the usual dissonance. The hair is different but somehow more familiar than the “normal” you that doesn’t feel right anymore.

“I’m right,” Renjun says.

You smile. “Yeah, you are.” You put down your phone, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Renjun.”

“For what?”

“Doing all of this for me,” you say.

“It’s the least I could do,” he mumbles. “You’re my friend.”

You shake your head. “Thank you anyways.”

Renjun just shrugs and grabs the bowl, rinsing out the bleach in the sink. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s avoiding your eyes.

You do your best to clean up the bleach from the floor, busying yourself until Renjun finishes. You wonder if you’re imagining the tiles getting a little bit whiter. Finally, he turns off the water and glances at you.

“You’re really happy with it?” He asks, sounding more like he doubts you rather than changing his opinion.

“Yeah,” you say, standing up. “I think it’s the ‘me’ of right now, you know?”

“Not really.”

“Like, I feel disjointed, and blonde hair is definitely not me, but it's the me that feels kind of all over the place, so even though it doesn’t look like me, it looks like me.” You wring your hands together, fingers tinged red.

“That makes no sense,” Renjun says, “but I think I get what you mean.” He smiles. “And I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”

So he did think this was a potential mistake? Why didn’t he say anything?

Renjun turns back to the sink, but before he can turn the water on, your voice calls his name. “Renjun?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t turn around.

“Why didn’t you fight me on this?”

He doesn’t move for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. “I have been told by certain people,” he begins, which is code for Donghyuck and Yangyang certified their position as Renjun’s worst nightmare. He turns to face you, wiping his hands on a towel.

“That I have a tendency to be overly opinionated in a generally negative direction. And I thought about it, and I realized I'm never really fully supportive, whether it’s a big decision, or, like, coffee, and I’ve always been this way, but, apparently, it’s especially… apparent with you.” He frowns. “This is all coming out wrong. I’m trying to say that it’s different when I’m around you. I’m different.”

Your eyes jump between his, trying to decipher what he’s saying. “Different?”

“I care a lot about you,” Renjun says, “more than anyone, actually.”

“Oh.” You blink once, twice. “Wait, you like me?”

Renjun’s eyes shift to the floor. “Yeah.”

You can’t help but let out a short laugh, reeling at the absurdity of it all. Renjun likes you? But he’s Renjun. Even though he’s the most common main character in your daydreams, you never once realistically thought he might be fantasizing about you too. But he likes you.

“I really didn’t want to say anything, I mean, before anything else you’re my friend, and I don’t want to ruin that,” Renjun says rapidly. “We’re good friends, and I really didn’t want to be the guy that pretends to be your friend but just wants to date you the whole time, that’s really not what I was trying to do, it’s just—”

“Renjun.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he freezes mid sentence, mouth still hanging open a little. Before he can move, you lean closer, the type of line you’d only dare to cross in your dreams.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you say softly. He blinks, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

“I’d like that,” he finally breathes. So you kiss him.

It starts light, his lips exactly as you imagined—soft and warm. His arm works its way around your waist, pulling you closer. The other works its way into your hair, still wet and sticking to your head. Renjun kisses like he’s been planning this for a long time, and maybe he has. Every movement is slow and careful, until he’s stolen all your air and even then you don’t want to pull away.

Your bravery fades the minute you meet his eyes. You bury your face into his chest, your cheek resting against your own hand. Renjun wraps both of his arms around you, holding you snugly in place.

“I like you, too,” you say into his chest. It’s the cowards route but if you look him in the eyes the words will never come out. “If it wasn’t obvious.”

“It wasn’t actually,” he says softly. “I think I drove all of my friends insane trying to figure out whether I should confess or not.”

“They all know?” You groan. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”

“Yeah.” When Renjun laughs, it shakes your whole body. You can feel the rumbling, overtaking his heartbeat. “It’s okay though. It’s worth it.”

You turn your head, emerging from the sanctuary of his chest and tucking your head so that you can see his face. He smiles at you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to expect.

“Yeah,” you say, “it really is.”

Renjun grins.

“Your hair on the other hand…” He says.

“I thought you liked it!”

“I like it,” Renjun says, “but when has Donghyuck ever liked a single change to anyone’s hair?”

“Since when do you care what Donghyuck thinks?”

“I’m just saying now that we’re officially dating, my friends are going to be extra annoying,” Renjun says.

“Extra annoying? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Don’t underestimate them.”

You groan, pressing your face back into his chest. “It’s not too late to get some hair dye.”

“You are not changing your hair because of my dumbass friends,” Renjun says.

“You like it?”

“You like it,” he says. “That’s the only opinion that really matters.” He pauses then adds, “But yeah. I like it.”

You grin, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we should dye your hair too.”

Renjun snorts. “Oh yeah?”

“We could have matching couples hair.”

He laughs out loud this time. “Maybe we should just get some shirts.”

“Three minutes of dating and you already want matching shirts? Huang Renjun, be honest.” You push off of him until you can place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Are you obsessed with me?”

“Yes,” he says, layering his voice in sarcasm that still isn’t enough to hide the truth of the admission. “All day every day, all I think about is you.”

“Well, see, that can’t be true because if you were that obsessed and I’m this close, you would already be kissing me because—” You forget whatever you were going to say, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when Renjun is kissing you like this. Your hands at his shoulders slink around his neck, while his wrap around your waist, leaning so close to you, you feel your back begin to dip.

Huang Renjun is poison, the kind that turns into a heart-shaped puff of pink when the bottle is opened. You melt into his kiss and it’s still not enough. You could die, right this instant, and you don’t think you’d notice. Death itself wouldn’t be able to tear you away from this moment.

“Renjun!” Donghyuck’s voice thunders through the kitchen. “How dare you? You bastard, you’re cheating?”

You jump apart, turning to see him looming in the doorway. His glare settles on you, and you see the exact moment he realizes he recognizes you.

“Jesus Christ, you could have knocked or something,” Renjun says.

“I live here too,” Donghyuck says automatically. He squints, then looks at Renjun, then back at you. “YN? Your hair is blonde.”

For some reason, you raise your hand and wave at him. “Hey!”

“Oh my god!” Donghyuck cries. “Yangyang owes me thirty dollars!” He races back out the door, screaming something that’s lost as the door swings shut.

You glance at Renjun. “Cheating?”

He frowns at the door, still a crack open. “Did he… seriously think you were someone else? That I was cheating on my unrequited crush?”

His eyes shift to yours. A heartbeat passes and you burst into laughter. His friends might be annoying, but they’re still endearing. You press a messy, smile-infested kiss to his lips and wonder if you’ll ever get used to the giddy feeling.

There’s plenty messy in your life, plenty to doubt. But watching Yangyang and Donghyuck drag their backpacks in (apparently Donghyuck forgot his power bank and they decided to give up on camping) as they attempt to interrogate Renjun on every detail, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t really matter. You don’t doubt Renjun. You don’t doubt blonde suits you. And you don’t doubt the power of a last minute hair decision, not anymore.

thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

[lucyvaleheart]

i think you're very cool and kind! i know things aren't always easy for you, i see your vent posts, but u deserve so much appreciation. I think you're doing well. Please take care of youself ♥

awrrrrr

tthnk u 🥺 i try not to make them too often but. god sometimes i just need to yell into a void i know i can be heard from

....fuck it, you know what- anti-vent post here

things ARE improving for me. I've got a new place, I'm fully moved in, tons of my stuff is set up.... a bunch of friends who i love so dearly came by to help me do that, and just today I'm going to a little party with em; ystrday had some fun with another friend hanging out....

ive been taking my meds consistently! i have a few i need to refill....but what i have, i haven't missed a dose in ages! im trying a new arthritis medication as of Thursday, too- one that would, if it works, switch me from weekly injections to one every 3 months!

ive been getting lots of really good updates on my disability applications- they're about to schedule me for a free x-ray, and then they should move the process along pretty quick....and my assistance for in-the-meantime is about to be finished and come through

... Im still not the best at eating regularly- but my fridge is stocked, mostly frozen foods but they are there, cuz i have reliable food stamps and medical coverage

.............so as much as there's definitely still a lot of bad, there's also been a lot of good that it's just very hard to see sometimes

I'm incredibly lucky and fortunate in so many ways and even if not everything is perfect i know it'll get there....probably

... Thank you for the ask 🥺

[dionysism]

Please. Tell us your thoughts on epic the musical if you will. Positive and negative

i think i have before but its spread out across multiple posts so i will just go ahead and put everything into one place lol

trigger warning again for light reference to s/a cause i'm referring to what happened in the odyssey

positive:

i think they have clever word play. i made a post before about how the "i've got you, don't worry, circe's got you now" has the neat dual meaning with "i've got you" in its positive reassuring meaning and "i've got you now" in it's sinister "you're trapped i've got you" meaning. same thing with zeus' "a foe who won't run, unlike anyone you have faced before" sounding like he means some big dangerous enemy when he's actually referring to an infant.

the songs are catchy, i must admit! the musical scores are impressive too. i also like how the use the instruments to tell the story. like how each character has an instrument thats associated with them, and how you can tell the penelope in suffering is not actually penelope because her signature instrument is missing. neat stuff. i also like how eurylochus' instrument is the crew themselves.

negative:

i think some of their creative liberties undermine the point of the story or just do it a disservice, something i've said before in other posts. to be specific, i feel they have made this into a story of a Good character who turns ruthless after everything he's had to endure, and while that is an interesting story to explore, it's not odysseus' story. odysseus is, for lack of a better word, morally gray from the start. i think morally gray is really too simplistic to describe him as he is a rather complex character but what i mean is he is not a Good guy but he's not entirely a Bad guy either, you know? the odyssey is not about a honorable hero who sacrifices his morals by the end, it's a guy who's already kinda questionable who continues to do questionable things at times. for example "lets lead from the heart, see what starts" is just not something he would really say 😭😭 also in monster when he says "what if ive been far too kind to foes" hes not really kind to his foes. yes, he is capable of mercy, but hes not always approaching things with a "lets be kind ❤️" attitude.

having him spare polyphemus out of mercy was stupid to me, personally. in the odyssey he doesn't kill polyphemus because he needs him to move the boulder blocking the cave exit, and also, given his size, odysseus isn't fully certain they can kill him. blinding him instead of killing him was not an act of mercy, it was a strategic choice. and also having them kill his sheep first was senseless to me. the whole thing in the odyssey is polyphemus is in the wrong, and odysseus is in the right. they don't kill his sheep immediately, and polyphemus violates xenia, because polyphemus doesn't care about xenia. this why odysseus feels comfortable to reveal his name at the end, because he knows he's in the right, and he assumes he has delivered a punishment in accordance with the gods for the violation polyphemus has committed. it's still unwise of him to do so, but at least you can see where he's coming from. in epic it kind of makes no sense because they came into his house, killed his sheep, and then he reveals his name and home address after that?!:?:?:? and then athena fucking off forever like okay?:$:?:?: what was that about.

circe saga really irked me, aside from the compliments i've already given. they removed the aspect of him having to sleep with circe by just having him say no. the situation is not this simple. he literally could not say no. one, because hermes already warned him on the way there not to say no to anything she asks of him and two because shes literally a goddess. like yes the moly protects him from her spells but she could still very much kill him if she wanted. and there's also the factor of her having his men captive as swine. in the odyssey this shows you how powerless he is before the gods, which, is a pretty important aspect of the odyssey! also it's just simply unlike circe, as a character, to be like "ah i'm so moved by your faithfulness and acts of kindness i think i will just let your men go and aid your journey for absolutely nothing in return ❤️" whole saga just came off very sanitized. curious as to how they intend to approach calypso.

underworld saga like i said before its the sudden switch of him being about "leading from the heart" and "kindess" to "then i'll become the monster" like woah... just felt like abrupt 180 to me. and again it just annoys me in general cause this character arc is simply not accurate for him 😭 i've also said this before somewhere but sometimes i feel like the odysseus in epic is more like an oc than an adaptation of homer's odysseus. hence why i see him as a completely separate character (and get annoyed when people conflate them as one)

thunder saga i had more minor gripes with like the fact that odysseus also had the beeswax in his ears unlike in the odyssey where he doesn't and has his men tie him to the mast while he listens. this is just simply because i thought a song from odysseus' perspective while he's deluded by the siren song and begging to be untied would have been really interesting. but oh well ☹️ i actually will admit i didn't complete hate the change with his mens death for the cattle. obviously, in the odyssey, he's not given a choice by zeus—they kill the cattle, they leave eventually, zeus strikes the ship and odysseus is the sole survivor. however i do think this is interesting to explore. odysseus obviously cares very deeply for his men, and would do near anything to bring them home. he's not the type to just sacrifice them willy nilly like they don't matter. (the bit in the circe saga where eurylochus wants to leave them behind and odysseus says no we need to at least try is biblically accurate, that does happen in the odyssey) but at the end of the day... getting back to penelope trumps all else. so would he, do you think? if he had been given the choice, would he let them all die to see her again? i think he would have. especially by that point. so that's one change i'm like, okay, that's kind of interesting. i don't hate this.

so overall, theres multiple things i do like about it! and i do appreciate the creativity and effort that's gone into the project and it always makes me happy to see people passionate about greek mythology. i just think they've lost the plot a little. i feel like it's become a story about a Good man who continuously gets punished for being good until he caves to ruthlessness which like i said, is an interesting concept, but just not the story of the odyssey.

[zileans-big-cl0ck]

hello ive never sent a request b4 not sure how this works pls bare with me too 😿😿 ive seen that u write for pyke and camille (my two fav characters) and i was wondering if u could write anything sfw/nsfw for one of them because theres barely any content for them, ty in advance 😸

✦–Pyke & Camille General Headcanons.✦ (SFW & NSFW)

✦I see someone’s taste never misses, Camille and Pyke as favourite characters!

✧ prompt: ✧ just feeling inspired today to actually write.

✧ champions: ✧ Camille, the Steel Shadow; Pyke, the Bloodharbor Ripper.

✧ reader: ✧ gender neutral.

✧ author’s note: ✧ I feel like Camille isn’t my champion to write tbh, I absolutely cannot caught her character; please pardon me. PYKE ON THE OTHER HAND- But, really, you don’t even know how I’ve been DYING to write something for my favourite boy Pyke. Ignore any mistakes; as much as I enjoyed writing this, I’m really tired :sob:.

masterlist

✦Camille, SFW:

Maybe she is a dominant, noble woman, but you still should valet her, treat he with the greatest respect. That amuses her.

Taking care of her well-being is your sacred order. The lady must be always pleased, cherished.

Of course she can treat herself right. She is a proud, self-respecting woman. But that doesn’t mean she does not enjoy making you submit, serve and obey.

Camille treats you, like you deseve to be treated - like an adorable pet that belongs to her.

And she rewards you generously, always making you accompany her, even if it means sharing with you and her wealthy co-workers the same secret informations of her important work. That is Camille’s way to bestow you with her trust, which is shared like a true gift, making you her little secretary and confidant.

She always keeps you near herself in case anything worrisome happened - or in case someone decided to profane her delicate belonging. Camille is a jealous and controlling woman who holds a firm border between her partner and anyone who may cross their path; she openly fears that the others, the vociferous people, may have bad influence on you. And you must stay as her property, and only hers.

Unfortunately, this entails with her sometimes treating you infantile, like you are not fully responsible. But don’t worry, it also means that she is always ready to do something for you, even if it is the hardest, most cumbersome work that requiers a professional. Because that’s who she is - a capable, deadly woman.

✦Pyke, SFW:

He always watches you from a distance. Pyke is a protective lover, but he desires to stay unseen by the others, all because of his well-known esteem as the Bloodharbor Ripper, the doom of captains. Even if you are not aware of his presence, he is alwats with you, stalking from the shadows, creeping around somewhere between the realms of the dead and mortals like a ghost, keeping an eye on you in case anything disturbed your peace. He would never stand anyone troubling you, which unfortunately can happen anytime in this perilous land. He is almost like a guardian angel, scared for your life and positive to take care of it, but cursed himself.

When he isn’t working, he likes reading. And I will not elaborate on that; Pyke has literally a Shakespeare quote in his own voicelines. He loves reading and you comming up with new book titles and recommendations for him, since he doesn’t have much time exploring this topic himself - his work consumes most of his sacred time, which he divides only between the ardous hunt for his victims and - you.

Though he appreciates your interest in his work, your questions about his day, even if their seem to serve no higher purpose than to start a conversation, he doesn’t want you to know all about his job. Not the things he has done to fulfill the meaning of his afterlife and cross all the names from the manifest. As Pyke came to conclusion, he might be unsure of your possible reaction to him being a killer, which you probably know either way, just never saw it on your eyes. At least he took care of it, to never commit such a dirty work before you. It’s not like he didn’t give you his whole trust, but you seeing his murderous persona might change your feelings towards him- that’s what he believes. And moreover, you might not want to see him how much pleasure he takes from killing.

He would never want you to risk your safety in order to try and get any information about his past, if you ever came up with idea so preposterous. Even if you were convinced that you might get into your hands a piece of knowledge that was out of reach for Pyke for years, maybe even decades. Of course he had shared with you the scraps of memories he still remembered, but there was never nothing solid, declaiming a consistent story. And he stopped caring about it long ago, entombing all the lost feelings in exchange for a new life (well, afterlife), new purpose, new emotions, even if they were ment to be irrelevant forever. Pyke befriended the truth - he, his new self, was never ment to meet with the man he was once before. Even if you were sweet enough, determined, to try and fight, he would turn you off - it didn’t matter if he couldn’t even remember it.

But he hoped it didn’t make you think that he didn’t trust you. He always answers your questions without keeping any bloody details to himself, just doesn’t tend to cover the subject by himself.

✦Camille, NSFW:

The first rule to obey: refer to Camille only as ”Ma’am”, ”My Lady” or, eventually, if she lets you, ”mommy”, so she could jovially call you her pet. A good, obedient little one, who can follow her around.

She would show you to her family, acquaintances, or co-workers with a proud, lustful look. She owns you not only so she could command you, but also to show a little off, to parade with her affable pet.

But you will always remain as her little one, the one under, the once she could crush, quite literally.

She loves the control she wields. Camille is a competent person who clearly deserves her position in the social hierarchy, same as under the cover of blankets. Or just thin walls of her office, where she also adores having you weak before herself.

She often wants you to wear revealing clothes, so the others could trace their lustful gazes, unnoticed as first, but over you. It is a perilous game - she always takes whatever she wants and her feelings are deep, sharp and adamant like blades, incandescent like fire. But you are tantalizing for her, especially when trying to get rid of woeful surrounding.

Camille would never let anyone else touch you, not even get close to you, but how she enjoys watching other people desiring you, yet not being able to ever caught your attention, as your heart belongs to Camille and only her.

Walking around her apartmnet nude, pitiful, with remorse in your eyes, is a sudden turn on for her. She knows you taunt her, tantalizing by the move of your hips, the place where she wants to dig her nails in while putting you in your place, right under her.

Her legs are obviously her deadliest weapon, but also the sweetest gift she can offer. She wants your head between them, squized and trapped in something between a full of pleasure, hot moment and a bewildering threat of her scissors-like blades.

Oh, how she enjoys crushing you under herself, sitting, rolling her hips just to make you squeak, beg and cry for more. And for a opportunity to breathe, as she toys with your fear.

Camille uses her voice to order you around, as she expects unquestionable obedience. The cybernetic, blue lights of her eyes never leave you, always scanning, petrifying, searching.

She never reaches her climax first. She can hold her pleasure back, just until your own release, just to see you succumb to her will and her orders. Only then Camille lets herself cum too, her moans being the sweetest reward you could get.

✦Pyke, NSFW:

What comes first, is that he is not needy at all. Even if Pyke desires touch, he would never willingly admit it, claiming that he is a ruthless murderer. He doesn’t need anything so prosaic.

So you are the one bestowed with the great honor to initiate sex.

And when it actually comes to it? He is absolutely melting, so quickly turned on. Though he wouldn’t admit that, again.

And what turns him on the quickest is probably you admiring him, tracing your fingers over his tattooed arms, your body near his chest, pulsing with pure life, so innocent in its vitality. Because it is something he lacks and therefore - desires with curiosity.

And though it might seem unusual for someone like him - bodyworshipping. An absolute lover for this one, especially when you praise or compliment.

He gets hot very quickly, which always makes him curse under his breath; especially whenever you test his patience. Because of his protectivness, it isn’t unusual of him to grab you with one of his hands onto his lap, always looking for an opportunity to touch you and to be touched, to have you really close. Just to have your beating heart near his quiet presence. Oh, and he is never immune to your teasing, even the slighest move of your hips, even your fingertips brushing his bare chest, is everything to make him grunt with approval.

The sensation of your soft skin, so different from the harsh world around, the fearsome depths, his disgusting prey made from men, intrigues him, alongside with the sick fascination with the contrast between you - a mortal that if he hurts, will surely suffer, and him - a shadow of the past, a revenant, whose heart doesn’t beat anymore.

But he fears you escaping him, like his victims always try. So he pins you, either to the bed below you or any other surface, making sure that you can not hide or run away. Maybe even ties you, but holding you by your wrists with his firm grip until you fully comprehends that you are trapped, usually works.

Despite Pyke’s protectivness, he is nothing close to being gentle in bed. He doesn’t even remember the word gentle anymore, therefore it is natural to treat you they way he thinks is satisfying. It's not like he is brutal, but he takes unimaginable pleasure from pinning your body, much smaller in comparison to his own, by his bare hands sculped with tattoos with force, to pull you hair and to have you whimpering into pillows.

Let him choke you. He is fascinated by the thrill of holding your life in his hands, the same hands that killed countless of men, now showing mercy to someone so dear to him, fragile and mellow. A person he could never harvest the life from, but still takes a sadistic kind of pleasure from playing with this idea. He could do anything to you, because you trusted him, but he won’t cross your boundaries - and he would never let anyone else do that.

Whenever you turn pale under him, white from fear, his gaze stalks covetously, devouring and claiming. But you can read nothing from his face, even if he takes his mask off, as he stays unmoved - but not stoic, he was never a philosopher. Rather in awe, like a conqueror having the key to his soul beneath him.

Your shaky breathing is tantalizing, when you struggle to inale, seeking mercy with your pitful eyes. Because he prefers them on himself, when gorgeous pupils trace his moves, fixed on his body, proudly towering over you.

Pyke is also well aware of the impact that his voice has on you. He is a wraith of his past self, yet he kept his deep, throaty voice that makes you shiver and obey.

Therefore he is suprisingly good at dirty talking, making the voice a great advantage.

Pyke can’t help himself and when with you - doesn’t hold back. Your presence, you squeezing around him, moaning, letting him do these things to you, doesn’t let him last for too long. Even with being the bloody killer, you are his only weakness and therefore - the ultimate form of pleasure, when he can do nothing against your charm, the muffled sounds you let out and the hot atmosphere. Often cums before you, which doesn’t mean he is done.

May be also a little egoistic becausae of the ignorance of your pleas to be more gentle. Just a little.

Also a fan of drunk sex, Pyke is a pirate after all. It’s probably in his blood.

[cloudcountry]

I wanted to ask why you hated Idia so much back then and the reason you adore him?

im gonna start telling people to pay me whenever they ask why i hate(d) idia because ive got this question easily 20 different times and frankly i'm losing money by not accepting payment

im not writing all that again i'm so tired of explaining it over and over ughhhh its not your fault min its just i seem to be a skipping record with how often i've had to repeat the same thing over and over and over for a YEAR and people just KEEP ASKING like ok you want to know about my relationship with idia shroud PAY UP!!!!!

anyways...i havent written about the things i adore about him yet so...

first first first!! the thing that made me gasp the softest gasp i have ever gasped in my life when i first saw it...his pink hair. its a bit superficial i guess but now that i like idia i think he's stunning. he's so hauntingly beautiful, especially when he's just a little bit flustered and the tips of his hair turn pink. what i would do to see his whole head turn pink PLEASE.

i also think his smile is so silly, even though it's usually accompanied by his smug ass voice "should'a leveled up more!" SHUT UP!!!!! i love his sharp teeth theyre so goofy nd silly but in a cute way. honestly i think his scowl is cute too, idk maybe i just like his lips but watching them twist up in annoyance when he rolls his eyes is attractive to me dont ask i dont know either. does that say something about me? maybe. i'm content with not knowing.

onto less superficial things...i just finished reading book six yesterday and it struck me how idia's heart is genuinely so beautiful. he loves so gently and fully, but with devotion that would destroy the world if he let it loose. being loved and treasured by idia is a privilege, because once he lets you in he would do anything for you (just dont fuck it up or i will beat you up im being so serious LEAVE HIM ALONE)

the extent to which he cares for ortho is so beautiful and so heartbreaking. "leave it to your big bro" im dead. everything he does is for ortho to have a safe and fulfilling life and honestly...it kind of seems like idia is trying to pay ortho back in a sense? like you died (because of me), now i will spend the rest of my life mourning you as punishment. he wants to give him the best life possible and thats just so ourgourgouhgohou,,,, his grieving is so complex and yet its so simple. heartbreaking i tell you.

on a lighter note, he's very passionate about the things he's into as well. one thing about figuring our how to like idia was turning my reaction to his condescending jabs from "oh he's such a know it all bitch what the hell people are literally just indulging in his interests what is wrong with him?" TO "oh he's just excited and getting an adrenaline rush, it's going to his head. he's happy. :)" and that was absolutely growth on my part because. ok AUBURN LORE TIME but i used to have a friend who was very condescending and a HUGE know it all (irl IRL IRL) and i think they definitely impacted how i saw idia because i saw bits of them in him. and since they hurt me so much i projected my experiences with them onto idia, so the first time i met him in game i wrote him off immediately and hated him after i saw what he said to others and how he acted.

but one of the many problems with that approach was that i missed the gentler sides of him. the way he goes back to school for ortho. the way he powers through the masquerade social for ortho. his idea of yuu being "valuable emotional support." his love of cats, regardless of how bad he scared grim. his love of star rogue and the way he made the sequel actually happen, albiet unintentionally. i spent so much time resenting him because "of course he's just another one of those." that i didn't stop to notice anything about him except for those bad moments. and of course, i'm not ignoring them now, i just see them differently. i see him differently.

of course i love that he's relatable, and that he's smart, and i love how when he's comfortable he loses his filter and becomes idia shroud instead of just being Scared of them, but i think that's just. social anxiety. and yk what ive said this before but even when i hated him i would NOT stand for anyone coming for his anxiety. like yeah i hate idia shroud but BITCH GET AWAY FROM HIM. YOU DONT KNOW WHAT ANXIETY IS LIKE!!! put me in nrc right now idia shroud needs someone who will yell at people for him and thats going to be ME. i dont care who you are you say shit you are earning my IRE. trey clover got yelled at. no one is safe.

can i just say i love how you said "reason" like there's only one JDSJSDJSD LMAO IDK IT WAS JUST FUNNY TO ME when i love someone i have multiple reasons and i love every part of them, even the bad annoying icky parts (in fact, if you can't love their bad parts too is it even love...? i dont know, we all have different definitions anyway. some might think tolerating their bad parts is love too and we'd both be right.) theres no one reason i just think he's lovely inside and out now. he's an angel, basically.

[chloessapphicapothecary]

"15% Remaining"...

"Oh come on... i charged this stupid thing this morning...." Beca muttered under her breath as she sat in her seat, looking at the annoying, familiar sight of her phone saying it was near dying, and she was literally minutes after take off. Smacking the phone with her finger, she showed off her frustration as she tried to get what little she could out of the dying device. She had e-mails to read and reply to and social media to maintain as she flew from NYC to Seattle, where she stayed when she actually had time to not be her busy, popular Record Producer self (which luckily for her, no one really knew producers by name, so she could fly all over the world woithout even so much as a 'Hey, arent you...?' conversations on the plane. She could just settle into her seat, and spend a few airborne hours in blissful, working obscurity.....

... unless her phone was this dead. And of course, she, against her better judgment, checked her laptop... so it was sitting, fully charged, under the plane.

Though, as fate would have it.... a rather laid-back, precocious redhead looked over to see the rather demonstrative finger pecking of the woman across the seat from her. Popping out her earbuds, she casually asked the woman across the aisle, "Excuse me, miss.... what kind of phone do you have?"

Beca, jarred from her irritate fuming, looked up through her long brunette hair towards the voice that was aimed towards her.

"Pixel 3..... why?" she asked, a bit defensively as she looked at the gorgeous redhead that was looking at her with such a warm, soft tone.... enough to be amlost disarming, were she not so irritated by her phones relative deadness.

"Oh, me too!" the warm, fliry redhead smiled. "Need some charge? Im at like..... 87%" the redhead offered, extending her phone across the aisle towards her.

"Dude, seriously?" She asked, partially taken aback, but mostly dumbfounded that this ramdom, pretty girl was literally swooping in to save her flight, single-handedly.

"If by dude you mean Chloe... totes." the redhead smiled, her warmth and smile making Beca uneasy, but not necessarily in a bad way.

"... who's Chloe?" Beca asked, a bit flustered, and even more confused.

The redhead just smiled. "Me.... i’m Chloe..... Chloe Beale." She explained, her tone warm and inviting, even as she watched Beca blush and devolve to the feeling of absolute foolishness as she didnt realize the obvious.

"Oh..... hey Chloe.... im Beca..... Beca Mitchell.." she half smiled, just wanting to crawl into a hole and hide until the awkwardness of her flub disappeared.

Chloe's eyes went wide. "Wait..... Beca Mitchell.... the producer?" Chloe asked, as she played it cool, and didn't fangirl any more noticably than she could hide. "As in.... produced hits for the likes of Swift, Grande, Clarkson, and more?" she asked, trying her best to keep her cool.

Beca swallowed hard. "Yeah.... thats me." she admitted, immediately dreading it. "So, whose juicy secrets do you want to know about?" she deadpannedly asked, as usually most who discovered who she was wanted ALL the juicy secrets.

"No one’s.... you’re like.... a musical genius!" Chloe finally let slip, before blushing almost as deep as her crimson locks.

Beca was noticeably thrown for a loop as she sat there.... she was shocked that when names like Ariana Grande and Taylor Swift were dropped.... that this person cared more about her. Quiet, insignificant her. "I.... I'm not that good.... i just help them be as talented as they are..." Beca played it off.

"Bullshit. Ive heard Ari.... and i've heard Ari when you produce.... girl... she’s next level." Chloe gushed. "Sorry.... I'm really trying not to fangirl... but I’m a music nerd, and i mean like.... for the behind the scenes stuff..." Chloe admitted, opening herself up bare to the Record Producer sitting across from her.

Beca started to respond, then froze, tried to rethink her words, then finally stammered out, "It’s ok.... you'd be surprised how rare this is...."

"Really? You're like.... Da Vinci, or Picasso... just with music..." the redhead blushed, phone still extended between them.

"Oh, sorry...." Beca smirked, extending her phone towards Chloe, the pair touching, and the pairs hands dangerously close to doing likewise.

"It’s ok.... I always told myself I wouldn't fangirl like that..... I'm sure it’s hella-annoying..." Chloe tried to play it off, hoping she didn't manage to make the award-winning producer think she was some crazy-stalker-music-nerd.

"It’s fine, trust me.... you're the first to ever actually treat me like i was Ariana or Taylor..." Beca replied, blush spreading across her cheek. "I usually manage to live in relative obscurity.... until i met you, Miss Beale." she teased.

"Oh please, call me Chloe.... well, for the next few hours until you disappear into Seattle... or elsewhere." the redhead said warmly.

"Ok, Chloe... and please, call me Beca....." the short brunette replied.

"Ok, Beca..... so, can i ask why you're flying to Seattle?" the redhead asked, somewhat submissively, not wanting to make Beca uncomfortable.

"I.... actually live there..." Beca replied, feeling rather good to be so upfront and honest with another person.

"Oh.... that’s great!.... it’s a wonderful city." Chloe smiled. Beca caught just a flash of it, but that image would be stuck in her head for awhile.

"What about you? If i may ask..." Beca added, smiling back... slowly but surely being drawn in by the living ray of sunshine sitting across the aisle from her.

"Oh..... I.... it’s a long story..." Chloe replied, getting a bit choked up by the memory.

"Oh, no, thats fine, you don’t owe me any explanation....." Beca tried to console the emotional redhead.

"No, it’s ok.... i moved out to New York to chase a relationship.... it didn't work." Chloe admitted, shruggung semi-nonchalantly at it all, though it was much more painful, in retrospect.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry...." Beca's facial features softened, and she wanted to hug the hurting girl. "... i’m so sorry he did that to you."

"It’s ok..... SHE ended up being an anchor that tried to sink me.... and i couldn't live that lie.... or that life..." Chloe replied, opening herself bare.

"Her? Oh.... I'm sorry... i just assumed, beautiful woman like you.." Beca blushed even deeper, equal parts for assuming.... and for realizing such a pretty girl was at least Bi, so much so she didn’t even realize how she had semi-flirtatiously ended her sentence.

"Its ok, no offense taken... but yeah.... i haven't dated a guy in like..... 6 years." she admitted nonchalantly, though the fact that Beca Mitchell called her ‘beautiful’ would live rent-free in her mind for a LONG time.

"Girl, i feel you.... i can’t remember the last time i had time to date..." Beca smirked, her heart fluttering inside her chest. Here was this girl, beautiful, warm, and kind..... and she was starting to entertain thoughts of crushing on her like a silly, pathetic school-girl… which usually didn’t bode well for the quiet brunette.

"No guys in New York worth your time?" Chloe asked, intrigued. "I’d think you'd have your choice of any guy you wanted..." the warm, open redhead replied frankly.

Beca began to reply, then smiled playfully, and decided to try the odds. "... i never said i was looking for a guy..." Beca replied with all the bravado of her on the Late-Night talk-show couch, even as she was panicking and hyperventilating inside.

Chloe took in a deep breath, and their phones disconnected for a moment as Chloe processed what she just heard, but she reconnected them almost immediately. "So.... you couldn't find a girl worth your time then?" Chloe asked playfully. "So.... what kinda girl does Beca Mitchell look for?..."

-------

Kudos to anyone who got the hint yesterday! Yes, Bechloe was my first ship, and the Chloe in "Chloe Danvers" comes from her. And in my defense, Cat Grant and Beca Mitchell will ALWAYS have my heart. (They both remind me of you, Maalkhati. 💜☀️)

El Mayarah,

Chlo. 💜☀️

[jelly-of-many-ships]

Intersting experience in math class:

I was doing some work while listening to the good omens soundtrack because it helps me focus and I love remembering which scene each track is from. Anyway, David Arnold (the composer) also composed most of the music for BBC Sherlock, which I don’t think too many people know (He’s amazing and I love literally everything he makes). And so when I finished the good omens album it started playing other music by the artist, which in this case, happened to be the BBC Sherlock intro.

I have not heard that song in almost a year in a half. BBC Sherlock was like a canon event for me, it was the first real fandom I joined and it introduced me to tumblr, fanfiction, and literally every concept associated with fandoms. Most pieces media Ive consumed, and definitely every fandom i’ve joined since then has been in some way because of tumblr, or other fandom spaces. Even good omens, which I am currently hyperfixating on to a frankly concerning extent, I was only introduced to via the domino effect of BBC Sherlock.

Why is this important? idk...backstory I guess? whatever, anyways, after awhile a fell more and more out of interest with Sherlock, and while I’d definitely still consider myself in the fandom, I’m just not really that into it anymore, especially since the rest of the fandom isn’t very active either. The year when my interest was the strongest was a very interesting time. I was really insecure and not very happy, but I had some amazing people in my life who I really miss. These two things, I think, are possibly the worst combination to have in terms of nostalgia, and I find that experiencing things that remind me of this period feels very strange. For example I physically cannot listen to some of the songs I added to my playlist around this time without getting really emotional, but I refuse to delete them because they really do feel like a part of me. From time to time I do remember the bad things and maybe feel a bit upset, and yet if I could go back, I know I would, just to remember what it was like to experience it all.

I don’t think I could ever fully explain it but BBC Sherlock genuinely felt like opening a very weird portal, and so when in the middle of math class, immediately after listening to the good omens track “the end?” and vividly imagining the end credit scene of season two, the Sherlock intro started playing, I felt such a strange mix of awe and nostalgia that I almost started crying. It sounds pretty stupid typing this up, but it was such a unique experience, and I don’t think I can really explain it. Good Omens is the only thing I’ve been even somewhat interested in to the extend of Sherlock, and after listening to possibly the most depressing song of the entire show, to have such a sharp reminder of who I used to be blast full volume into my head felt like diving headfirst into cold water. It really does sound stupid, but in that exact moment I remembered everything; the evening I heard that song for the first time, staying up for hours scrolling through pinterest and discovering the fandom, the first day I told my friends about it, the day i read my first fanfic, the day I was so convinced they were gay I accidentally discovered shipping (lol), the night I finished season 4, alone, at 2am, the day I joined tumblr, the week I learned how to play “the game is on” on piano, and the lunch period I wrote my first fic after daydreaming about it for weeks.

These things probably seem pretty mundane, but this was like a new world to me. They represent more than just discovering I new interest though. They’re some of the only memories I have of that time. I cut my hair, I realized I was queer, and for the first time in my entire life I had an actual friendgroup, one that I still care about so much. Life was, at the same time horrible, yet the best it had ever been, and I didn’t even know it. When I really think about It, I realize in actuality how little time has really passed, but everything feels so different. I think to myself that there’s no way that person was me, that the kid who had so much energy and enthusiasm for life, poetry and writing and had yet never felt so insecure couldn’t have possibly turned into the burnt out, powerless person I feel I am today.

At least I’m not so insecure anymore? I’m not so sure what to say. All I know, is I think that moment in math class made me realize how much I’ve grown, how much I appreciate those experience I got to have, and how much that song will always mean to me.

[tokyogruel]

22 - your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores 👀

from this ask game!

OKAY SO... i know i KNOW yamanaka has said the cover songs have nothing to do with the character's murders... BUT IDGAF ABOUT THEIR MURDERS I CARE ABOUT THE CHARACTERS!!!

the cover songs are SO UNBELIEVABLY UNDERRATED in terms of character analysis and their personalities! the instruments used, the tones of the songs, the lyrics telling us how the character feels... i fully believe the cover songs are extracted from their hearts!! which is why some of them are SO DIFFERENT FROM THEIR MAIN SONGS!

i could go on about all of the character's cover songs.... so i will LOL

HARUKA

two breaths walking: “This is Page 1 of the process of my evolution.” harukas second voice drama is titled "Metamorphosis of the Weak"

"Because I want to hold you, I walk with my two legs. Because it’s lonely on my own, I breathe with you"

"Have you learned the words yet?"

"Hey, suck in my breath again now. I try to say “I love you,” but Instead I’m living my whole life as a sort of oxygen tank. Suck in the words I've spit out and breathe no more"

android girl:

By now I’d rather we build our own “Togetherland”. We’ll click together, so climb aboard. “Pay more attention to me, it’s not enough!”

“Oh, you’re so cute. What’s to be done about you?” I’m tired by now of the way. You resizing compliments makes my heart flutter.

I know I’m yours and yours alone, but do you even like “me”?

All my kisses with you hurt so much when they closed up my throat."

notes: harukas cover songs both focus on poor relationships, choking/the inability to breathe/etc. android girl also has elements of trap music, which is not present in two breaths walking, and as ive said before: trap music is primarily muu's motif

YUNO

sticky bug: "Say that you love me, say that you love me, Since there’s nothing else I need"

"So to put it simply, let’s start recording"

"Your smiling face, your embarrassed face as well. I want to catch every single one of your expressions! So not leaving out a single moment I’ll commit everything to memory."

"As for my dream, it’s to be that stickybug right by your side" "I say “goodnight” only so that I can say “good morning” tomorrow"

"Say that you love me, for if I’m lucky, then at any rate, I really want every single part of you…"

i dont have a lot of comments on this since i dont know yuno that well comparatively, but i do have a theory that yuno's "true murder" is actually tying up a man in her basement and torturing him for pleasure, so... haha which "stickybug" gives a lot of "im obsessed with you" vibes, and...

vampire: "“I can’t take it anymore” you're such a bad boy"

"I want to try it, I want to spit it all out, I can definitely go more"

"It’s Fxxx, it’s sxx, it’s pAxxxUx* Until I eat all of you, screeeeam!"

*

"Longing for someone and then letting that feeling wither is such a turn off. After crying and forgetting about it, it's back to “Hi, nice to meet you.”

"When I spit out everything I was hiding, they were all things that were like "That's so true!" "I reply with no after no, since selfishness is free, I get greedy and miss my chance again"

"It's addicting, right up to the part where I drown in it, screeeeeeeeeeam!!!" "“I can’t take it anymore” I want you to make me say it too"

notes: i really struggle with yunos character, she is surprisingly deceptive. i want to take the "mahiru is a stalker" theory and slap it on yuno, ok? her instrumentals are also very "yuno" and i have not noticed any motifs that connect her to another character

FUUTA

his songs do really feed into the "fuuta is a queer man" theory that i love

mozaik role: "A word bit into you, And I just described the liquid leaked from the wound as "love"

"Just like you and me who have fatal ties."Even so, I love you..." How's that?"

"What's wrong with loving you... I'll tie you, not let anyone to touch you. This must be fate, right?"

"As I don't even know whether it's love or lust, what should I do with giving out?"

"What's wrong with killing myself, if you hate me?" "Disappearing, disappearing, a world of love"

salamander: "Hey, Salamander! Hot is good, don’t you think so? Is it a big deal?" "It’s heating up inside my head" "If you know, I would like you to tell me first, ok?"

"I surrender, I’m already hooked, I can’t function without you anymore" "

"I can’t stop, I don’t want to stop! Make sure to cool it down so you don’t get burned" (*note: the vocaloidwiki says that the line is more along the lines of "make sure to blow on it, cool it down so you dont get burned" and uses "fuu~" (haha fuu~ta), the onomatopoeia for blowing air)

"As many times as possible, I want to be on fire when I reach the climax"

"I want to escape, but I’m not able to"

notes: salamander has a few focuses on guitar, remniscent of haruka's guitar motif. it also has a jazz solo, which, yknow- thats kazui's motif

MUU

mm,y favorit e lesabiam,,,

otome(maiden) dissection: "Let's play Maiden Dissection!"

"I've wanted to feel shame, ever since that night when I realized"

"Good evening, is now a good time?"

"Without you, none of that matters" "Both of us with our masks on, we flirted"

"Yeah, there's a kid there, lost in anything and everything, Shedding tears, meowing "SOS" with their eyes only halfway open"

"This disease, the whole package, I'll send it to you as an attachment. I don't wanna go so far as to share all the things that cause me pain. I just wanna run away from this love..."

"Calling each other by our real names "I don't wanna live" was what I should've said. Will I ever find peace?"

"Sorry for calling you so early. I must've woken you up, huh? Are you up to chat right now?"

"I had a dream where you fell in love with somebody else. Please tell me it's not true. C'mon, love me please?"

"Listen, you've been pretty cold lately"

"Pulling burning passion out of each other. I can't stand you telling me "no!" Will we ever clear up this misunderstanding?"

"Smearing drool on top of the "baguette" (haha get it bc muu is french? do you get it? are you listening to m

"I wanna feel shame, just like I did on that night when I realized"

"it's good as long as it hurts"

MKDR: "I went and said it, I want to be with you just one more time. No, no, to drag things out would be annoying. I’m sorry, come back Carbon dioxide, your atmospheric concentration"

"I want to soak in a dream of a swamp" (夢 muu's name, dream)

"Even if you tell me I’m selfish, I’ll just lap it up. It’s not uncertain, there’s no future. I want to be reborn with your face" (im struggling to find sources for this, but ive heard a few times that there is folklore that when you die, you are reborn with the face of your past life's lover.)

"I went and found out, Even if you flip over the words “I hate you” There’s no “I love you” hidden there"

"I’m mad with idealism, imagining a smile. My bloodshot wish will soon be relieved" "But there’s no love anywhere that’s “just fine”

"A melody of fools with nowhere to go. Retrying – rebirth – teleportation. The number of tries keeps accumulating at the mercy of an endless love"

"I detest love"

"Are you angry? … I’m not angry. We’re perfectly in sync and yet off the beat"

"If this were a movie or a TV show. Though I’d endure it until the credits. I wouldn’t want to watch it again. It’s all too cruel, from beginning to middle to end"

"But I still end up believing in a love that’s “just fine”

"The topography I protected by hating love is beginning to warp properly" (this part im not sure how well it actually translates into english..??? because "typography"... likely means "this person, this character, this ideal" since.. kanji/typography is super super important in jpn language)

"We’ll hurt each other over and over" "But I end up remembering the lie of “I’m just fine”

"I detest love"

notes: both of muu's songs use a lot of "soft trap" music, shes very mellow, and both songs focus very strongly on "painful love", unrequited love, love that hurts her. its likely both of these songs are about how she feels about rei. the music in MKDR also "dances" between your left and right headphones. ive yet to find motifs that connect her to another prisoner. there is a bit of piano in mkdr. there is bass and guitar in otome dissection that isnt in mkdr

SHIDOU

i hat e yo u i hate yuo. ohate you. triage link

liar dance: ""Stolen? Just whatever do you mean?""

"Having made a vow, to you and you alone. Declaring this loveless love of mine in front of you"

"Committing myself to this performance, set lines and all. Those memories we've desperately created and clung to, they blend together and feelings between us intensify"

"Blabbering on about stuff, could you shut up for a bit? Because everything is starting to look like a lie" "Yes, I've realized that we're both guilty here"

"Dance away, liar. This love has swelled up like a balloon, let's turn it into a lie with the prick of a needle. On the count of "I-love-you"

"Having hidden it away so that no one can touch it. A thirsty dance, carving that carbonated melody"

"Damn it! You figured it...wait, whatever are you talking about?" Screwing up time and again is no reason to drop the act. Having fallen into this bottomless swamp, will you even realize you're drowning?"

"Everyone and their brother is laughing at you. Even I've become unable to see you as anything but a lie. But somehow I still have these feelings for you"

"We're already partners in this crime called "love" "Turn me inside-out and I look just like you" "It's nice to meet you, "Crime" and Punishment"

"It's a bit scary, But the moon looks so beautiful, doesn't it?"

delusion tax: "Hey, that girl is pretty great... Her too!" Looks like you’re thinking some pretty nice thoughts over there... Are you really satisfied with just that?"

“That girl is alright… That one works too, I guess”

"Let’s pay the Delusion Tax. For the sake of making everyone’s life oh so wonderful…" "Turning wishes into reality, Right now, buy back your future!"

"That’s right, for all these dirty delusions, let’s settle the bill with this dirty money"

"Existing for your sake alone, mandatory affections and obligated kindness "NO!" to Though you should be satisfied, a voice from within shouts “NO!” We have an idiot on our hands, it seems..."

"Look, just up and borrow the "desired amount" Reality is a bitter-sweet pill to swallow"

"That which you wish for, the person you think of, The past which you hate as well, they’ll all be as you like."

"But those wishes won't really come true, even if you pay. For it’s all a lie, a great big farce. Thanks for all that, that's plenty. These scraps of paper belongs to me now"

notes: shidous cover songs are all over the place. "Liar Dance" has a lot of references to the other prisoners, the instrumentals are??? electronica? guitar? and a soft melody of piano, if you listen close enough. delusion tax goes strong with an instrument i can not place! it sounds, wooden in structure? but i dont know it off the top of my head. delusion tax has car alarms playing at certain points, it also features a piano melody. liar dance has a very small amount of jazz. theres a police scanner in liar dance and i cannot make out the words

ALSO THIS IS GETTING REALLY LONG... ill have to add the other 5 in a reblog,, oh god im so tired. my back hurts

[burgersnacksformax]

Gun cleaning with Sniper

Sniper + an age regressed reader ! DNI if kink

Inspired by a fic. The link isnt for kids, though !

This fic is sfw tho :]

Ive never cleaned a bolt action myself, i just referred to vids online. One by eHowFitness and another by ozziereviews

Reader calls sniper Mickey. Like mick but cuter. Because i like to call him Mickey when im tiny hehe

AND i drew a picture for this ! You'll find it later in the story :]

Sniper's camper was silent aside from the small thud-thud-thud sounds as your heels kicked the side of his bed impatiently, as well as the tick-tock-tick of his watch he left with you. He said he would be back by now. You held his watch, pouting at it as if that would put time on fast forward to when he gets back.

"Where's Mickey," you grumbled to yourself, looking around the van in boredom. You stood up and walked over to the curtains to peek outside. There wasn't much to see apart from desert, maybe a few cacti and tumbleweed. And tons of sand. Sniper told you to keep the curtains closed, or else the sun would make the van really hot. There was one time you didn't listen, and you felt like a cookie in the oven. But the sun seemed like it was almost ready to greet the horizon, and the touch of the window seemed much cooler than in the daytime.

You turned to a crate behind the passenger's seat. You always wondered what was in it. Maybe Sniper had secret board games, or secret stuffies. Knowing him, you wouldn't he surprised if it was more guns either. Maybe you'd take a peek and find out, he won't have to know..

The shake-shake noise of metal from the doorknob made you jump. You lit up in excitement, deciding to save the crate theories for later as you ran to the door to undo the chain lock. "Mickey's home!" But before you fully undid it, you paused. You remembered that Sniper told you to always be careful when opening the door. "Who is it?"

The familiar low voice of your beloved Sniper chimed in from behind the door. "It's me, 'roo." From his delivery, it sounded like he was smiling.

You smiled back as if he could see you, fully undoing the lock as you swung the door open to let him in. "Mickey!!"

He chuckled as he walked in, closing the door behind him. "I'm home, mate. Long day." He turned to redo the locks with one hand, his other occupied with his rifle. "Sorry to make you wait, 'roo."

"It's ok," you blurted, ready to reach your arms around him in a hug, before he held a hand to you as if to tell you to stop. You pouted.

"Remember what I said?" He gave you his trademark sympathetic look. The one he gave when he felt bad that he couldn't let you do something.

You held his free hand and fiddled with his fingers. "No huggies when Mickeys holding the gun.."

"Right." He pet your hair, before unfolding a table from the wall beside the crate, and setting his rifle down on it carefully. He sat on the crate, patting the spot beside him as if to welcome you.

Right away, you sat beside him and gave him a side hug. The crate was small, so it was a tight to fit for both of you, but you appreciated the proximity. "M missed Mickey.."

He hugged your shoulders with both arms, planting a kiss on your forehead. "I missed you too." He pulled back to look at you, taking his yellow sunglasses off and setting them on the table. "Anything happen while I was gone?"

You paused for a moment to think, before shaking your head and humming an "mm-mm".

"That's good."

You reached for his sunglasses, putting them on your face. The world was significantly yellower.

Sniper chuckled. "Looks good on you, mate. Maybe a bit big."

You gave him a toothy grin, taking the glasses off and putting them back on the table.

A comfortable silence washed over you two as he reached for the rifle. The first thing he did was pull the bolt back, exposing some bullets. He carefully took the bullets out and stood them on the table.

"Shiny," you commented, your side pressed against his as you watched curiously.

He let out a low hum in response. He often did that when he didn't have anything to say, but still enjoyed your comments anyways. He then pulled the bolt out, and set it on the table.

You watched the bolt, leaning forward to get a better look at it, before looking up at Sniper. "Can I touchy?"

He smiled to himself, passing the bolt to you. "Sure, mate."

You grabbed it and looked at it up close, observing how neat and polished it was. It was super clean, as if it hadn't seen a day of wear in its life. "What's it for?"

"The bolt?" He undid a latch on the crate, your eyes eagerly trained on his hand. Perhaps today was the day you'd learn the crate secrets. "It's to push the bullets into place." He leaned forward to open it, the lid opening at your legs. "Then once it's in place, I can shoot." He reached in to pull out a rod, a small pouch, another small pouch, and two aerosol cans.

You pointed at the equipment. "Whas that?"

He carefully placed the rod on the table. "This is to reach down the barrel so I can clean it." He put one pouch on the table, and it made a jingly sound. "This goes on the end of the rod-" the next pouch, "this has the cleaning patches to wipe the inside of the barrel."

He handed you one of the cans, taking the bolt which you forgot you were holding, and let you observe the can. On it said "bore cleaner".

"Issit for cleaning bores?" You weren't entirely sure what a bore was.

He nodded, showing you the other can. "This one is to do the finishing touches."

"Whats bores?"

"A bore is the inside of the barrel."

"Whas the barrel?"

He traced a finger along the barrel of his rifle. "The part of the gun that the bullet flies through. Then it leaves through the muzzle."

You watched his finger. "Whassa muzzle?"

He tapped the end of the barrel. "The part the bullet leaves from."

You giggled. "Mickey knows too much!" You rested your head against his arm.

He chuckled, smiling at his gun sheepishly. "Never too much gun knowledge in my profession, 'roo."

"Mickey is the mister smarty pants."

"I could argue you're a smart cookie yourself." He paused, giving you a small smile. "Thanks, love."

You nuzzled your cheek against his shoulder. "Love you."

"Love you too." He went back to his work, grabbing an aerosol can and spraying bore cleaner into the barrel. It let out a soft fwshhh sound. "This is to remove any residue inside of the barrel."

You tilted your head up at him. "Residue?"

"Yeah. Metals like copper and lead - they tend to build up after lots of shooting." After a few moments, he set the gun down. "We're gonna let it sit for a while, alright?" He reached for the bolt next. "You wanna help me clean this?"

You grinned and nodded eagerly. "I get to help Mickey!" You reached out to grab it, and Sniper passed you one of the cans.

"You just spray it a bit, and brush it." He took out a small brush from the tool kit, putting it on the table so you could see it. "Make sure you get all the tight spots too."

"Okay," was all you said before you did as told, giving it a good spray and brushing it. Sniper put an arm around you and held you close. He hardly ever said it upfront, but you could tell he was always happy to talk with you. He really enjoyed telling you about guns especially, even if you didn't always quite get it. "This guns Mickey's favourite?"

He leaned against you a little. "Yeah, I use this one most often." He watched you closely, and you were determined not to miss a spot. "I've experimented with other rifles, but none of them came close to the accuracy a bolt action gives." He paused. "Or, perhaps I'm just used to it."

Once you were done, you passed the bolt back to him, to which he began to use a small cloth from the pouch to wipe it off. "Mickey pew pew."

He chuckled. "It's more than just that, 'roo." He continued to clean, the cloth getting a little dirty. "Bolt actions are quite reliable. One of my favourite gun actions."

"Why?"

"The accuracy, and the overall feel of it." He held the bolt up and twisted it around a little to observe in the light, before setting it back down on the table. He turned to look at you eagerly. "You ever wanna give it a shot?"

You mumbled, "issit loud?"

He hummed in thought. "Well, could be louder. I got a noise suppressor. But if you can't handle the noise, you can borrow my earplugs."

You fiddled with his sleeve. "Mickey want me to try it?"

"It would be nice." He avoided looking at you, but you've known him long enough to know he was just shy. "I think I'd like that. Seeing one of my favourite people with one of my favourite things. Y'know?"

You grinned and hugged him from the side. "Pew pew."

"Nah mate, that sounds like a pistol. Bolt actions are more like-" he mimicked cocking an invisible gun, "click, click click, bang."

You echoed him, making clicking sounds with your tongue and making a bwoom sound.

"Yeah, like that!" He kissed the top of your head before picking up the rod. "Mate, by the way, this really your first time scrubbing down a bolt?" He gestured to it vaguely. "I reckon you made it as clean as a baby's leg."

You giggled, swinging your legs a little. "Baby leg?"

"What I mean is, you did a good job." He flashed you a goofy smile, then took a tiny metal stick-looking thing from the tool kit, mumbling, "patch holder" as he attached it to the end of the rod.

"Patch holder," you echoed.

He then put a cleaning patch on the end, the name "patch holder" making a lot more sense now. He picked up the rifle. "Hold the barrel for me?"

You held it, surprised by how heavy it was, but proud you could carry it nonetheless. "This?"

"Yeah." He fitted the rod carefully inside the rifle, before pushing it down the barrel until it reached the other end.

Your cheek was pressed against his shoulder as you watched the end of the rod peek out the muzzle.

Sniper took the patch off, showing it to you with a smile. "See how dirty this thing got?"

"Woah." You perked up excitedly. "I wanna try!"

He put the patch aside and pulled the rod out, before putting a clean patch on the end. He passed you the rod. "It might be a little tight."

"Ok!" You copied what he did earlier, and he was right about it being tight. You had to push a little, until the dirty patch came out the other end. "Is dirty again!"

"Yup." He took the patch off. "Pull that out for me, will you? We're gonna keep going 'till the patch comes out clean."

"You just do that over and over?" You pulled the rod out and gave it to him. "Sounds boring."

He shrugged. "It's repetitive, but I like it." He once again did the routine.

You tapped your feet on the ground, rocking back and forth. "Mickey still want me to hold long part? Uh, the barrel?"

He shook his head. "It's fine, 'roo. Ya can do somethin' else if you're bored."

"Issokay, m wanna be wit Mickey."

The corners of his lips curled into the slightest smile, before he nuzzled his cheek in your hair. "Alright. You can just watch."

So you did. He went through another patch.

And another.

And another.

Gosh, he was still going?

Just how dirty was his gun?

"Aaand done."

Sniper's voice snapped you out of a daydream that you didn't realise you were having.

He took the cleaning patch off the end of the rod and held it to you. "See? Much cleaner." Finally, as if it could never happen, he pulled the rod out and set it on the table. He picked up the cloth and gave the muzzle and chamber a wipe down.

You yawned, leaning against him. "Mickey day was ok?"

He hummed in thought. "Coulda used a lot more you."

You giggled. "M here!"

"I know, love. I'm glad you're here." He held up the rifle and looked down the bore, giving a satisfied sigh. "Spotless." He put it down, grabbing the other can and giving the gun a little spray, and then a wipe. It seemed a lot shinier after that.

"Shiny gun." You turned to him again. "What did Mickey do today?"

He picked up the bolt and slowly slid it back into place. "The usual. Was nice and quiet up in my nest." He opened the latch of the crate, and started putting his tools away. "What did you do?"

"Games!"

"Sounds fun."

You watched as he started putting stuff away. "Mickey done already?"

He let out a low laugh. "If you wanna help me clean more equipment, you can."

"Noo!"

He patted your back. "Kidding, 'roo." He got up and carefully put the rifle in a safe spot, putting the bullets away too. "Say, you hungry?"

You nodded eagerly.

"Then let's get something to eat, yeah?"

"Ok!"

He walked over to the front of the van. The key, which had been waiting in the keyhole, was twisted until the engine made a vrrrr sound. You followed him to the front seats of the van, your stomach grumbling as you sat in the passenger's seat.

Hopefully some tasty food awaited you both back at at Teufort!

[slashingdisneypasta]

Ive seen the f/o werewolves au and I absolutely love it. From the way it works to how they all handle their wolf side in different ways... I just find it so neat!

Callahan especially got my brain going 100 miles an hour, Just imagining him and the YN from your series dealing with it...

The days leading up to the first transformation where the animalistic-scary grows from "hot" to "concerning".

Him missing out on a date because, as fate would have it, happened in a full moon and then just... Ghosting, because he doesn't like the fact he can't control this quite yet.

He wanted to ravage YN before the transformation? absolutely. Make them his (mate)? Certainly. But this is beyond him. He can't control himself, just the sound of YN's voice from when they showed up at his doorstep (one last check. Giving him the benefit of the doubt.) is enough to send him into a bit of a frenzy, and he hates it.

And then one day YN returns to their dorm to find this big, weirdly wolf-like, old dog (if the grey muzzle is any indication) at their door. One that's weirdly docile and (even more surprisingly) friendly with them, despite the fact they never saw this dog in their life.

The dog approaches, carefully sniffing their hand, before pressing the top of its head against the palm. Still a bit weirded out, YN gives the animal a few tentative scratches and pets, which the dog seems to like.

(Mate is caring for him after so long after all...)

And just that presence, that care, that absolute freedom to be at peace with the one the two of them love is enough to bring the two consciousness together for long enough of a moment for Callahan to detransform.

Thankfully the shock of petting a naked Callahan (clothes having bursted out from the initial transformation) sent YN reeling back, which ended up reverting him back into a wolf. Wouldn't do to have that image floating around the college forums after all.

YN was able to guide Callahowl inside to wait out the moon. But in the morning, they would talk, as they made sure to tell the dog. Whether he could fully understand them or not was still up to debate, but at least he seemed to understand their tone and looked a bit chastised.

For the all of five minutes before YN relented and began to pet him again, cursing whatever entity that ruled their universe and made Callahowl such a cute dog.

FRIEND FRIEND FRIEND FRIEND

I GOT SO EXCITED WHEN I SAW THIS IN THE MORNING. I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO ANSWER IN KIND.

First of all I am s o so jazzed to see that you, too, are mad about Werewolf!Callahan like me!! XDD And 'Callahowl'???? OMG perfect XDDD Second of all-

YOUR FIC HERE. IT IS MAKING ME INSANE. Y/N being affectionate with this wolfie that loves her even though they have a sort of temperamental relationship when he's human?? 'Mate is caring for him after so long after all...'- this this this!!! Because like??- thats Aaron and Y/N loves Aaron. They do. But usually they cant show him that, because he's an ass and it would kill them- and he cant show it to them either because, again, he's a total ass-- but in this form??? His underlying desire for affection from them (His mate!! <3) comes out and Y/N doesn't have to worry about teasing (or worse) ^^

I also love your detail that his muzzle is lighter to show his age!!

Thank you so so much for sharing this!!!!!!!! ^^ I wanna write for Callahowl so so bad and one day I will XD I swear XD For now though here are some imagines for you, too!! In these, Y/N is actually his student but the relationship is basically the same apart from that.

Werewolf!Professor Aaron Callahan x Fem!Student!Reader || Imagines

Plot: Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon.

Warnings: There are smut imagines at the end that involve male masturbation topics as well as sex, and breeding ref's.

Werewolf!Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon appearing in class dishevelled. His short hair unbrushed and ruffled like he's been constantly running his fingers through it, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, his jacket clenched at his side in his hand instead of on like it just got way too hot despite it being the middle of November, his glasses constantly crooked from rubbing his wild eyes.

Werewolf!Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon only being calm when its just the two of you. When, after class, you stay back to check on him in the office. He slumps on the corner of his desk and watches you with a certain warmth you've never seen on him before. You fix his glasses and his hair, and his eyes fall shut at the feeling for half a moment before he can pull himself together. You offer him his blazer before you leave, and he takes it simply because you offered it, wanting to hold onto you in any way he can, but only holding it in his hands as you leave instead of pulling it on.

Werewolf!Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon getting snippier and snippier with students, breathing heavily through his nose and rolling his eyes up to the sky and looking dangerously close to throwing things- but not to you. Not towards his mate (Not that you know you're that).

Werewolf!Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon making a guy in your class with you, who was arguing con to your pro in a hypothetical court topic feel dumb and mortified in front of the whole class. He told the guy to oppose you (Its a regular law class activity!) but it turns out to be too much for him- he cant handle it. He has to stick up for you, protect you. And its nasty, and unfair, and awful, and everyone in the room feels the aftershock of it. Luckily, he's still him enough to brush it off and move on, but you're looking at him like he's insane the rest of the class and he knows he fucked up.

Werewolf!Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon making up excuses why he's acting the way he is and why he keeps cancelling on you and they just keep getting worse. He's a smart guy, he's actually scary he's so smart, but now he's acting like an idiot and you're actually getting kindof concerned. You ask him, genuinely, if he's okay?

Werewolf!Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon looking up and to the door any time you walk through it, looking over at you like he knew it was you who came in even if its too loud in the room for him to have heard the door even open and he had no way of knowing when you were going to get there. Because he's so tuned in to your scent, and his nose is so sensitive this time of month.

~ Hornycanons from here ~

Werewolf!Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon getting hornier the closer his transformation closes in on him.

Werewolf!Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon having to cover his mouth with his hand tight and hang up quick when you call because the bulge in his pants grew at record speed hearing you and he's going to moan if he stays; the sweet sound of your voice making him painfully turned on.

Werewolf!Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon having to jerk off under his desk during lunch. You stay back to check on him, he takes his blazer from you, and then he sits down slowly and takes out his red headed, leaking cock to quickly pump one out; riding the high or your lingering scent and your voice in his head and the feel of your fingers on his hair just before.

Werewolf!Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon having to excuse himself to go to the bathroom more often just in order to jerk off and keep his shit together.

Werewolf!Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon who will fuck all night if you come to stay over. He'll fuck you against the wall when you come in, he'll fuck you on the couch, he'll fuck you all night in bed. He tries to bang it out, make the rest of his week easier, but thats not how it works.

Werewolf!Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon who has to fight himself not to fucking cum in you, goddamnit. He doesn't want kids, he tells himself over and over. He doesn't want kids, he doesn't want kids. But the wolf in him desperately wants to fill you with pups. Luckily Cal's just strong enough to control that. Just.

Werewolf!Callahan in the days leading up to the full moon who is just a mess, and completely enamoured with you, and desperately wanting to hide it from you.

[cosmossystem]

Hey, I'm sorry for suddenly dumping this onto your askbox, but I just feel the need to be heard

I honestly don't care about being anti and proship at all

But... Everytime I see a post from someone who proudly calling themselves anti... It's always so scarily violent

All those posts saying "kill yourself", "deserves to die", all of that stuff

If you don't like a person or stuff they make... Just block them, mute the tags they use, forget they ever exist

Literally easier to do that than harassing the said person or making others uncomfortable with your violence tendencies

This is why some people that have "I'm an anti" or "Proship dni" have become such a redflag to me, even tho most of the time people who uses them are genuinely just good people who misunderstood what proship is

I wish this whole discourse never existed, I miss everything before 2020...

^^ this

and we feel the exact same way

like we dont have any hard stances on shipcourse because both sides have misinfo and both are wrong about some things-- like, we are firmly anti-lolisho and thats one of the things that is usually seen as "proship", but we do have "problematic" ships and we believe in SALS and are anti-censorship. so much misinfo flies between the two because no one cares about being right, they care about looking right, much like every other fake-activist (which are unfortunately common these days.)

the only reason we even care to begin with is because antis have been so violent to us about it. if you arent with them, youre against them, and if youre against them, youre a target.

it seems like theres a lot of antis in neurodivergent & plural spaces, too, which is just crazy to me, so it feels like we have to specify every time "yes, we're the proship in your DNI, just block us please."

i do wanna say that while 2020 made things worse, ive been in shipcourse + fandom spaces since 2016 and it was pretty bad back then too. like in 2016 i had an anti-ship & anti-ddlg blog and there were DOZENS of other antis in the tags -- yall remember "character-against-bad-ships" blogs? yeah. we ran several of those and had hundreds of mutuals running them as well. (im getting flashbacks to "sonic-for-real-justice". eugh.)

we Fully Converted To Proshipism (/j) in about 2018-19, so i saw how bad it was getting right before covid and honestly its never fully recovered. fandom hasnt really been peaceful since... maybe before 2016? i dont know, i wasnt there. flaming and ship wars have always been around but i honestly cant think of when all this "pro v anti" stuff started. seems like it was a slow buildup and now its just fucking everywhere.

i know this wasnt the point of your ask, but im gonna go on a tangent here because i like to yap:

i think the current state of shipcourse is caused, in part, by the fact that younger generations are getting into fandom. except, i think every time someone points this out, they get it wrong and pin it on some bullshit like "younger fans are mistaking fandom for activism/politics!" that argument sucks because that doesnt afford any empathy to the teenagers and young adults who grew up in this awful fucking political climate (including myself.) fandom IS politics to young people, because they have been aware of the state of the world since the time they could read and dont know a world that isnt inherently political in every way.

and then that brings up the misconception that fandom isnt / should never be political, which isnt true and is literally just denial of what is already happening. every form of media and consumption is inherently political. proshippers tend to be wrong about that, plug their ears and lalala until it goes away while ignoring the very political parts of fandom-- like the misogyny, racism, ableism, aphobia... etc.

and so we get stuck in the same song and dance because everyone is wrong and parrots the same disinfo. fandom is very black and white like that. its either everything is ok, or none of it is, with no room for nuance. like for instance: you can enjoy shipping the canonically-aroace character with someone and that doesnt make you a bad person, but dont pretend that doesnt have any real world implications. and so on.

anyway. thank you for the ask, anon. sorry this got really long and passionate. im very opinionated.

- red

[dashiellqvverty]

was going to reply to your post and then it got too long.

newsies was also one of those movies where i was learning what words meant as i learned the lyrics because i watched it so young so that's always so hard to get past.

but i will say i think the changes to sante fe in particular are really great (and i love what the stage version does with crutchie). most of the changes to carrying the banner (although i really miss the section with the mother looking for her son), the world will know, and once are for all are pretty solid. seize the day is functionally a different song, which is fine outside of the softer approach toward scabs across the show. the only changes i fully dislike are in king of new york, but that's also mostly the result of the denton&sarah > katherine shift (which i understand was needed but ultimately didn't care for, especially making her pulitzer's daughter)

that's so fair! i definitely consider myself a movie hater (though really i'm more of. a disliker.) but at the end of the day i simply love talking to people about newsies in all its forms and what they think of it and stuff.

i think most of the lyrics i like less in the movie version of king of new york are less the stuff thats directly related to denton and more just the little individual lines the newsies have - which is the same way i feel about carrying the banner. i feel like the new ones just feel more natural (but also like. of course i do, i learned them first)!

im already forgetting bc i keep pausing the movie and doing other things but i feel like seize the day came at a slightly different point in the story? like the same part of the plot but hitting different emotional beats? so that makes sense that its so different. i'm really interested overall in how the show changes the approach to the scabs (now that ive gotten to the rally scene in the movie i'm like okay so they just pushed up jack agreeing w david about not being violent instead of making it an ongoing conflict) and softens the messaging overall. like despite being a disney movie in the first place, the stage show is much more ~disney-fied~ (which, for good or for bad, i do think is part of why it was so much more well-received) (gonna be real i still have like half an hour left in the movie and i forget how it approaches the ending, so i can't make a comparison yet, but even without the context of changes from the movie, i think a lot about how the stage show kind of undercuts the radical themes of the actual story that is happening onstage by having the Big Messages they SAY out loud be a lot more abstract and wishy washy)

i have always been fond of katherine but again, that was my introduction to the show - i've never had any strong feelings about her being pulitzer's daughter but i definitely don't think it ADDS anything to the show beyond the one moment of the ~shocking reveal~. iirc youve mentioned that her being pulitzer's daughter kind of removes an element of class solidarity? that's not a way i'd thought of it on my own but its definitely a really valid criticism and they very much couldve kept her character without doing that. in fact, it would probably make her more interesting if she was a woman with a career who WASNT a nepo baby.

[nekobami]

Oh- it's just the other one.

They'll rent your house with u inside it and call you a dumbass

I just made it in some hours, very quickly just to- I dunno, maybe a profile pic?

OH ALSO, HAHAHAHA JERRICK TRAP'S OUT

Yay

I really wish I was talking about Jerrys and Ricks right now... Damn, my life is totally out of control

Anyway

I'll write some bot stuff and council stuff here, just to... Relax a bit

I missed writing a little longer posts

While I stopped drawing frequently I started to develop more the issue of the backstore and the context of Soft Bully's story

But... I ended up going too far. Like, I was very concerned about having an extremely well-constructed story full of stuff, and I ended up engaging some headcannons about the Council. Since they have a certain connection with my OCs, and are part of the context that I found. Speaking of the Council, MY GOD, what UNBEARABLE people.

I had to study the way they speak, see their participation and interactions all for my own instead of just copying and pasting some research that someone has already done, Do you know why?! BECAUSE NOBODY CARES ABOUT THE COUNCIL

AND IT'S TOTALLY UNDERSTANDABLE, because not even I cared, and even now I don't want to admit that I care

They were all portrayed as shallow villains before the legendary Rick & Morty Presents: Council of Ricks. If it weren't for this comic they would be 100% headcannons that I casually pulled from the depths of my clinically insane mind. I mean these guys just did terrible stuff because there was power in their hands and they could do that. ALL BY CONVENIENCE

What im trying to say is: I do roleplay. Roleplay It's my life. I've already interacted with most of the Rick & Morty bots in character A.I., and I'm so greedy that if any of you have bots from your OCs, GIVE ME LINKS. I LOVE. I'll hug them, I'll make them pancakes and I'll give them hello kitty plushies.

Talking about the bot;

I've already rewrote my bots a few times.

When I started making them, I realized that the Council in particular had difficulty detaching itself from the example messages. He didn't show much of the Ricks' personality. However, after writing the model for each Rick, I noticed a big improvement.

To be able to make a bot that had a minimum of depth and coherence in the roleplay, I had to make the information dynamic, and I can say that even after everything I did about them, I didn't learn anything. I built the code base with another info that I had already built when I started creating bots and changed it to a model I saw on Tik Tok.

The original model I saw on TikTok looks something like this:

Char("name of the bot")

Age("set age" + "adicional info")

I realized that when programming a bot, you cannot use ":", or the bot will see this as a message to be memorized. I also discovered that the model is not mandatory and the bases are fully customizable, anyway you can make the information more dynamic to the bot organizing it in any way you want since it doesn't recognize it as a message.

So, instead of using the model for a single character for the bot, I separated the Ricks and described their traits.

Most of the code are headcannons... I mean, what can I do? It's instinct!

This is how Prime Rick's code looks like:

Prime Rick- council("hairstyle is shoved hair in the sides" + "curly hair" + "cut scar behind his neck" + "Show Leader-like traits, but is often overshadowed and sidelined by Rick IV's aggressive leadership" + "Serious, level-headed" + "He cares about others but has a lot of difficulty showing it" + "Prefers to define appropriately fair punishments rather than exaggerated ones" + "knows the cidatel is bad but feels like it's too late for it to change" + "Gets angry with offenses directed at himself but not the ones direct to his authority" + "Overall, he doesn't care much about it, he knows he's part of the Council and doesn't need to reaffirm it or deny it when someone says otherwise" + "Is confident, has the upper hand in flirt when alone with the one he love" + "Hides a relationship with Rick C-197 from the council.")

If the Council remains good as they're right now, I won't need to rewrite them. In this case, I'm going to apply the same method to fix one of my first bots: DJerry.