#this is to my br mutuals sorry :(

[zillua-remade]

orgulhosa de porto a na real!! e salvador esmagou como esperado 🤝💞💞

[dakotalun]

"Oops" | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: Part 1--Eddie "accidentally" sends a tasteful pic to his best friend.

warnings: mutual pining, pet names (sweetheart), strong language, description of naked Eddie

word count: 3.4k

Part 2

a/n: went a little crazy at 3am the other night and wrote this. Part two will be up later this week!! Luv y'all <3

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Eddie is your best friend of many years, the two of you being inseparable from the moment you met. So when you got a text from him tonight you don’t think much of it, figuring it was just a dumb meme he saw or a random thing from today.

What you didn’t expect to see was a picture of Eddie standing in his bathroom, towel slung over his shoulders with a prominent boner happening.

His hair is wet as if he just got out of the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry it yet. The long dark brown locks stick to his neck and chest in a way that can only be described as godly. The tattoos on his skin are glistening but covered by the towel around his neck and as you move your eyes downward the path of hair that leads to his dick is delicious.

And talking about his dick it is, mag-fucking-nificent! The way that it hangs there, the tip swollen and red, leaking the smallest bit of precum. It has your mouth watering.

You nearly choked on your own spit when you saw it. Never in a million years did you think that Eddie would be sending you of all people nudes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wonder what he was packing but you never really indulged in those thoughts, until now. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen, memorizing every little detail in the photo.

Eddie sends another text but you’re too distracted to see what it is. Then a stream of texts start flooding in from him.

‘SHIT!’

‘I DID NOT NMEAN TO SNED YIU THAT!’

‘IGNORE THE PICTUREA’

‘HOW THE HELL DO I DELETE THE PIC?!?!?!’

‘GOD I AM SOSOSOSOSOSOSSOO SOORRY!!’

You giggle at his frantic typing, noting all the typos. Curiosity gets the better of you and you scroll up a little to see what he had said after he sent the picture. You’re eyes go wide at the words displayed on your screen.

‘Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Jerked off twice while in the shower and I’m still hard. Wish you were here with me right now ;)’

You had no clue who this was really meant for but if it was meant for you you would 100 percent be on your way to him right now. The bottom half of the picture stares back at you as your eyes acan over the text again and again. You can’t deny the small hint of wetness that you feel on your underwear while looking at the two.

Twice? He came twice and is still hard. Whoever he thought about must be really hot if he can go 3 rounds without breaking a sweat. Could he go more?

Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone receiving a call, from none other than Eddie himself. You sit up in bed and pull your knees towards you as you answer his call.

“Sweetheart I am so so so sorry I sent you that. It was clearly meant for someone else. If I had known it was your contact that I was on I would have never sent that at all. I want you to know that I don’t go around sending nudes to everyone or anything, I’m not a slut I was just-”

“Eddie it’s fine. No need to apologize. I figured it wasn’t meant for me anyways.” It pains you a little at the thought that someone else was supposed to receive that message from your best friend.

“I’m still sorry. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” His voice sounds smooth like spreading butter onto fresh pancakes.

“Hmm,” You fake thinking about what you want even though you know exactly what it is you want, “You’ve gotta tell me who that text was really meant for.” Silence. For a whole minute there is just silence on Eddie’s end, you’d think he was dead if it weren’t for the fast pace of his breathing.

“Sweetheart,” The nickname is not helping the situation you have going on right now, “You don’t mean that. Can’t I just take you to breakfast or buy you a new outfit?”

“Nope.” You respond popping the ‘p’ as you say it. “Either tell me who it was meant for or I send it to the groupchat.” You were bluffing. You couldn’t let the others see him like that, that was for your eyes only. Not that anyone needed to know that.

“You wouldn’t dare,” His voice turned deep and threatening.

“Try. Me.” You challenge back.

Eddie groans, “Fine. You win,” A smile spreads across your face, “It was meant for Callie. This girl in my chem class, we’ve been talking for a little bit.”

You’re a mix of emotions right now; happy that Eddie found someone he’s interested in and took his shot, confused because he never told you about it, sad because you thought he trusted you with things like that, and slightly jealous because you want to be the one Eddie sent nudes to, purposefully.

“Sweetheart? You still there?” You completely forget that you’re still on the phone with Eddie until he says something.

“Uh yeah yeah I’m here. I’m um happy for you Ed. Glad you found someone. Look I gotta go to sleep, big test tomorrow, talk later. Bye.” You hang up before he can say anything else. 

Why did you feel this way about all this? You shouldn’t be thinking of Eddie in this way, he was your best friend. Best friends don’t think about going down on each other, or the way it would feel to have his cock inside you, or the moans he would release when he finally cums in you.

You shake it off and lay back down, setting your phone on your nightstand to charge. You try for half an hour to fall asleep but your mind can’t stop thinking about that damn picture. So you unlock your phone and go back to your messages with Eddie, looking to see if he deleted the picture or not. And to your luck it was the latter, the picture and text below still there for your viewing pleasure.

You’re still horny from the initial thought of him so it doesn’t take long for your hand to wander under your shorts and underwear to your clit. The thought that your fingers were his and the way he would whisper in your ear egging you on to finish.

The images of him jerking himself off in the shower flood you, his hand on the cold tiles, water hitting his back as he fists his cock, rubbing it slowly at first but becoming impatient and going faster until he cums all over the wall and his hand.

The image of his face when he does and the moans that would leave his mouth is what throws you over the edge yourself. Wishing it were him between your legs pulling it from you not your own fingers. Finally your body is tired enough to let you go to sleep, dreaming of Eddie once more.

---

You’re sitting with Eddie and the rest of Hellfire at lunch a week later. Neither of you have talked about what happened that night, both too embarrassed to say anything.

Things were normal though, Eddie would pick you up and drop you off to and from school. You’d talk on the phone every night about whatever happened that day that the other wasn’t there for. You liked the thought that the text didn’t hinder your friendship but you can’t help but be a little jealous about Eddie fucking someone else. It’s not like you were expecting him to confess his hidden undying love for you the next day but the realization that Eddie really did send you that accidentally; hurt.

The freshman are talking about some video game coming out when Eddie lean over to you.

“Whatcha’ thinking about?” There’s a smile on his face, one that you always loved seeing.

“Nothing,” You go back to eating your fruit.

“Alrighty then. Hey I was wondering what time you wanted to come over tonight?”

Your eyes grow wide, mind going back to the text, “Why?”

“Um it’s Wednesday. Horror movie marathon night, remember?” His head cocks to the side a little, his hair falling into his face. It reminds you of a dog questioning what it’s owner has in their hand.

“Oh right yeah. Um I don’t know if I can make it tonight.” That was a lie, you had nothing going on. But being in the trailer alone with Eddie after knowing what he looks like naked is not what you need right now.

“Awe come on! I rented Scream, Saw, and Halloween for tonight. You can’t make me watch them all alone,” He lowers his voice and leans closer, “What if I need protection from the bad guys?” His big doe eyes large and pleading with you.

You roll your eyes and push his face away from you, “Ugh fine. I’ll be there, how’s 8?”

“Perfect! I’ll order the pizzas, do you think you could make those amazing cookies for us?”

“You mean for you?”

“No. I mean for us, I would never eat all the cookies myself.”

“You did like 3 weeks ago! There were 30 cookies there and I had none of them.” You stare at him as he thinks back to then.

“Nope don’t remember which means it didn’t happen. So will you?” There are those puppy dog eyes again.

“Whatever but I swear if you eat all of them again I’ll castrate you.”

Eddie’s hands fly to his groin, protecting it from your threat. “Ouch, sweetheart. Didn’t know you hated my dick that much.”

I don’t. Just hate that it’s not mine. You thought, but you just rolled your eyes and continued on eating lunch until the bell rang.

---

Eddie rushed around his room looking for his favorite shirt when you showed up for movie night. You let yourself in, per usual and set the cookies down on the coffee table before heading to Eddie’s room. He was squating in front of his closet when you come in, you don’t announce yourself just stand there staring at his back.

He got a few new tattoos since last summer, two of which on his back. A skull and crossbones along with a knife wrapped in barbed wire. You haven’t seen them in person yet, it still being too cold to sit out in the sun. But looking at them now was a pleasure, the detail popping out as his muscles flex.

Eddie huffs and stands, defeated about not finding the shirt he wanted. He turns around and finds you standing in his doorway.

“Jesus! Why didn’t you say you were here?” His hand is over his heart as he catches his breath from the unintentional jump scare.

“I texted you like 20 minutes ago that I was on my way. Figured you knew I’d be here soon,” You say as you enter his room fully to sit on his bed.

“I did not see the text, I was in the shower,” The mention of this brought back memories of the photo, and what you did whilst looking at it, “Anyways pizza should be here soon and I’ve got beers and soda in the fridge.”

Eddie walks around you to his dresser, grabbing a random shirt and throwing it on. You’re sad at the loss of his bare skin but quickly shake the thought away. You get up from his bed and head to his living room, Eddie following in toe.

“So what are we watching first? I’ve seen Scream a few times but the other two I haven’t seen,” Eddie remarks as he grabs two beers from the fridge, opening them before handing you one.

You mumble a thanks before taking a sip, the bitter liquid coating your tastebuds. “I’ve seen Scream and Saw but not Halloween. Heard good things about it though, at least that’s what Robin said, Steve had other opinions.”

“Lemme guess pretty boy hated it and wished he never saw it?” Eddie laughs as he sets up Halloween on the tv.

“Yeah pretty much,” You laugh along. The thought of your friend sitting there watching the movie curled up in a blanket next to Robin bringing a smile to your face.

Eddie finishes setting up the movie and walks back the kitchen. He grabs a bag of chips and some dip before returning to your side on the couch. He opens the chips and pops one in his mouth, crunching it loudly.

You smile at the normalcy of everything right now, it’s as if nothing ever happened between the two of you. Which if we’re being honest nothing really did happen, Eddie just sent you a nude on accident. It’s not like you kissed or anything. Not that you’d hate it if you did.

You snack on the chips and dip with him while waiting for the pizza to show up, never starting the movie without it. The two of you talk about nothing in particular while you sit there. Eddie tells you about the upcoming DnD campaign he’s been working on.

His eyes lighting up and hands flying around erratically as he explains what he planned, the animation in his character brings an even bigger smile to your face.

Just as Eddie concludes his explanation, inviting you to come sit in and watch it at the end, the doorbell rings notifying the both of you that the pizza was here and it was now time for movie night to begin.

Eddie pays the guy and happily walks over to the couch and sets the food on the table in front of the two of you, he can’t even wait til the movie starts playing to begin eating. You laugh at him as he opens and closes his mouth quickly trying to cool the hot pizza in his mouth, you just hit play and start watching the movie.

The pizza is gone, same with half the bag of chips and the cookies. Eddie actually let you eat  a few of them before he scarfed down the others. You’re nearing the end of Scream, the third and final movie of the night when you look at your phone for the time. 12:25 stares back at you, you groan knowing that your parents are going to kill you for coming home so late on a school night.

Eddie hears you and turns to see why you made that noise. You just wave him off and go back to watching the movie, watching as Skeet Ulrich gets shot for the final time in the head. A few minutes later the credits roll and Eddie turns off the tv, letting the trailer fade into silence.

“Wanna tell me what that groaning was about?” Eddie asks turning to face you completely.

“Nothing, just didn’t realize that it had gotten so late. Parents are gonna kill me if I go home at this hour.”

“So just stay here,” He says with no hesitation, “You still have a few clothes here after last movie night. They’re just siting in my drawer.”

You think about it for a minute. You and Eddie have had sleepovers in the past, nothing special about them, just two people sharing a bed, occasionally cuddling because of the small size of it. But now the thought of it made you nervous, having him so close to you, so near yet not being able to touch him. It killed you, but it’s better than going back home right now and having your mom and dad rip you a new one.

“Alright, I’m gonna need to shower though. Coach had us run the mile today at practice and I still feel disgusting.”

“Yeah no problem, you go ahead and shower, I’ll clean up here.” He stands and starts clearing the trash from the table. You get up too and head into his bathroom, but no matter how hot the water is or how long you stand under it you can't get the thought of the picture and the words under it out of your mind.

He was right here, jerking off to the thought of someone. You scold yourself for thinking about him like that, again. But you couldn’t help it.

Recently you’ve thought about him more and more; his smile, the dimples that show when he’s really happy, how animatedly he talks, the way his hair is always unkempt but still looks so damn soft. You thought about him in ways you never did before seeing that picture; his arms, his muscles, his hands, his rings. Everything about him turned you on and you needed it to go away.

Eddie finished up cleaning and sat down on his bed, beer in hand while he took out his metal lunchbox for a joint. You walk into his room, towel wrapped around yourself, hair dripping wet from the shower. He stops his actions to just stare at you, the same way you did earlier that night.

“Uh could I borrow some clothes? I don’t have anything to sleep in,” You say wrapping your arms under your boobs, pushing them up ever so slightly.

Eddie clears his throat, “Yeah, sure.” He gets up and walks over to his dresser, rummaging through it to look for something you can wear tonight. He pulls out a pair on your underwear that you “left” there a while back and one of his Hellfire shirts. You denied his offer of some pants, saying they would be way to big on you and you’d rather just sleep in the shirt.

Eddie’s mind went straight to the gutter at that thought, you sleeping next to him, in just his Hellfire shirt and a pair of underwear he stole from you. His dick was growing hard just thinking about it. He quickly got back to looking for his joint and lighting it upon it’s appearance. He took a few hits while you changed in the bathroom, his mind slowly fogging over.

You return, hair still slightly wet with the towel in your hand. You toss it into his hamper before laying on his bed, grabbing his beer and taking a sip. You lay back and close your eyes, letting the serenity of this moment wash over you. Eddie offers you a hit but you decline, being that you don’t ever mix weed and booze together.

He finishes the joint while you finish his beer. The two of you just sitting there with the light sound of whatever record Eddie has playing. Your thoughts are quiet for the most part, just soaking in the time with your best friend, until you think of something. A question you’ve been meaning to ask for a little bit.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He responds head leaning back onto the wall where a headboard should be.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, hit me.” You reach your hand out and hit him in the thigh.

“Ouch! Not literally, I meant with the question, sweetheart.”

“I know,” You giggle.

“Brat,” He mumbles back.

“Anyways, I was gonna ask -and you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to it’s just something I’ve been thinking about- but did you really not know it was me you were sending that picture to?” The words lay heavy on your tongue as you say them aloud. You’ve been thinking about this for a while, it’s hard not to.

How did he not know it was you he was texting, your name was right there at the top of the screen. And if he was sending it to someone else how could he not double-check to make sure he wasn’t sending it to someone like Wayne or Robin.

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about the best way to tell you that, yes he did know it was you he was sending it to. And yes he knew it was stupid but he wanted to try something to see if you felt the same way about him that he does you. Eddie’s loved you for about a year and a half now, never saying anything to anyone in fear of running your friendship.

But that night he was watching a show and one of the characters did this thing where they pretended to send a text to someone “they didn’t mean to”, to see how they’d respond. He thought that maybe this was an easy way of figuring out how you felt about him. But when you didn’t respond to his photo or texts he got scared and called you. Needing to clarify what he sent, and why.

Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis

[unalivejournal]

imagine a tumblr simulator set in the velvet goldmine universe lmfao

2 notes

🎹 wilderatz Follow

DNI if you still support br*an sl*de after the shooting hoax. what he did was fucking unacceptable and pathetic. the panic and heartbreak on the dashboard that day was absolutely traumatizing. and the fact that it was all for cheap publicity makes it even more despicable. if you HAVE to listen to his records the least you could do is buy them secondhand

#so glad curt never cut that record with him

186 notes

⭐️ glittersisgay

i got new boots! seeing the flaming creatures tonight :-) life is good

4 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 wildemons Follow

sorry but the sladewild narrative is CRAAAAZY. like imagine you start off as a nobody performer and becoming enthralled by this rockstar after he shows up your act and you end up becoming famous by being inspired by his stage presence AND YOU BECOME FAMOUS ENOIGH TO GO TO AMERICA AND MEET THIS GUY AND YOUR LABELS START FABRICATING A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN U TWO TO GENERATE PUBLICITY FOR YOUR NEW ALBUM BUT THEN YOU ACTUALLY FALL IN LOVE AND HAVE TO KEEP IT A SECRET BUT THEN THE PAPARAZZI FINDS OUT AND YOU HAVE A HUGE FALLING OUT BUT THEN A FEW WEEKS LATER YOURE SPOTTED IN THE CROWD AT THE DEATH TO GLITTER SHOW

♻️ 🦷 roxytunes Follow

lmfao WHAT are you talking about. swear to god i’m sick of you invasive freaks trying to make things up about real peoples lives. the part about the labels trying to market slade and wild as a couple isn’t even true. yes they were heavily publicized as close friends but they never admitted to being in a relationship. also receipts on brian being at the death to glitter show???? stop spreading false information

♻️ 👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 wildemons Follow

anyways watch out for my new sladewild maxwell demon tour era fic that will be published in my next zine 💋

#my mutual was literally next to him in the crowd.

58 notes

🪩 girlboydragdemon

at the Sombrero Club with the glamrocktuals YAYYYY

♻️ 🪩 girlboydragdemon

Hangover.

#we may have made. mistakes. #also we think brian slade’s former manager was in the booth behind us

11 notes

🌟 venusinpurrs

♻️ 🎸 balladofmaxwellsemen Follow

WHY ARE WE PITTING THREE BAD BITCHES AGAINST EACH OTHER

♻️🌟 venusinpurrs

better question WHY ARE VENUS IN FURS LOSING GUYS CMON ITS OBVIOUSLY THE RATS

♻️🌟 venusinpurrs

do you people hate dykes

244 notes

💋 jack-fairy-fan51 Follow

Anyone else feel like this Tommy stone guy showed up out of nowhere?

6 notes

❇️ 20th-cxntury-bxy

Well…. it’s been a fun time on the road with Malcolm & co. (@/theflamingcreatures) but in the months following the hoax and the death to glitter tribute I’ve been feeling more and more inclined to move on. idk. i know there’s still an active tumblr community but in the real life scene it feels like everyone’s just…. given up. I’ll be starting a new job soon and won’t have a lot of time to post. Might delete this blog in the near future. remember to support local shows and keep being yourself

#a.journal

0 notes

👨‍🎤 lipstickkissedelbowglove

word on the street is that mandy slade divorced brian???? lmao get his ass

♻️👨‍🎤 lipstickkissedelbowglove

[#finally i have a chance with her]

you’re funny if you think any of us on this site have an inkling of a chance with her

2,658 notes

🎸 balladofmaxwellsemen Follow

Just found this on the sidewalk. does anyone know what it is?

7 notes

[philtstone]

Aditha/nandini jacket

AFTER A MILLION YEARS I FINIALLY FINISHED THIS set in this verse and a prequel to the silly asides in this fic. a mix of book and movie canon as usual! for those who responded to my wip poll im sorry i ignored literally all of your votes and instead worked on "in which vandiyadevan is trapped in the toilet" but it ended up working out for everyone (me and the 2 mutuals reading this) so whos laughing NOW anyway apologies in advance for any cultural errors or general incoherency; its one in the morning and maya is in a different time zone. i had to google things! also none of this is serious. enjoy!

Evening is cooler than Nandini expected.

After the tumultuous heat of Poonghuzhali’s van, and the station, and the day, and the week — well, she did not anticipate shivering in the dark outside this dormitory. The leather motorcycle jacket she so pointedly wore in the blistering sun now, a week later, lies untouched beside her. They have had three stare-offs in the last twenty minutes, she and the jacket. She cannot bring herself to put it on; the idea leaves a queer feeling in her belly that she doesn’t care to examine. 

The dormitory itself is a relatively humble one, considering the wealth of its former occupant’s family. More a boy’s hostel than the kind of lodging the Cholas might secure for their most beloved child. Arunmozhi seems completely unbothered by the state of it. He grins widely at the orange toned walls, scuffed, and the low doors, slamming open and shut at intervals (though less now, so late into the night), and the general ruckus of the boys who greet them. They were all but cheering in welcome of their former dorm mate and his mismatched band of traveling companions, needing a place to avoid the authorities and – impossibly – his Uncles’ and her fathers’ spies, last minute. There was a lot of hugging that went around, at any rate. It’s not quite an elder siblingish relationship, Nandini thinks, though she is absurdly then struck by the question of whether the benign, chummy, kindly way Arunmozhi interacts with the younger boys is patterned after the way his own — that is to say, he has an older br — oooh.

Nandini does not want to think about it.

Just as well, because she’s many other, marginally less useless things to think of.

She is thinking of these things quite obsessively, in matter of fact. Scientific observation would suggest a verge on neuroticism. So it goes in Nandini’s head: oh, Lord, My Mother. She is Here. I’ve met Her. She is Alive after all, and so Beautiful, and so Fucking Weird. 

(The capitalizations are quite manifest in her own thoughts). 

If anyone else were to say the last she’d box them, but God it is true, and Nandini is nearly brought to happy tears by the realness of her mother’s strangeness. Her mother is exactly the same height as she. Her ears are not pierced. She favours her left leg, while Nandini favours neither, but when she walks she sways her hips in much the same way Nandini does when she is not thinking about it. She has hair which is nearly the same length and weight and texture, and it curls around the ears such that it must tickle – Nandini has much experience with this. Her mother’s fingers taper off as hers do; the nail beds are the same; her mother’s chin dimples against her neck in a way Nandini has always felt insecure about in herself. They have a mole in the same spot on their arm; Nandini’s left toe has a bunion near identical to the left toe of her mother; the bottom row of her mother’s teeth lay the same; her mother’s breasts are not very small, but not overly large either, and sit in the same position Nandini's do; her cheeks possess vestiges of the same roundness; her elbow wrinkles in the same way; her eyebrows are a bit unkempt in the middle, like Nandini’s were when she was a child and could not be bothered with their upkeep.

How strange it is! To see your own face so clearly in another. The slope of her nose — the curve of her mouth — the way her hair falls. Nandini wonders if this is what she will look like when she is old. She wonders if she is what her mother looked like when she was young. Surely the answer is yes. They are now inseparable in her mind, she and her mother, and it is overwhelming. She does not even need a father anymore; he has been axed from the equation. She has a mother. She knows her mother! 

And when she saw her mother for the first time, cheerfully led out of the very mundane, uninspired Thanjai local jail, her mother knew her. Nandini had stood, transfixed, as Mandakini had touched her gently on the cheek, just so, and began to cry quiet little tears that slipped down her cheeks like they were the simplest thing in the world for her to give, to feel, to shed.

Nandini has always hated crying. Real crying, anyway; she is an expert fake crier, as anyone successful in the world of Tamil soaps must be. But real crying is snotty and uncontrollable and undignified. 

Nandini thinks (she has been thinking all evening – it is really getting to be bad for her health) that is what makes her mother at once so unfamiliar, too.

There is so much tenderness in her face. Even without words (Nandini is so very good with words, honeyed and poisoned and flat and querulous, even, rarely, honest) her mother tells the world of her love. For her daughter (who craves it so badly); for Arunmozhi (who despite Nandini’s earliest assumptions seems to know he must earn it, however freely it is given); for simply living, it seems. Nandini cannot understand this last part. Life has been on whole pretty miserable, for her mother. What right does it have to her love? 

Nandini does not think she could ever love like that. 

She’s seated and steeped in these ruminations on the topmost step of the dusty concrete facing the dormitory courtyard; behind her must be the toilets, for there is a light on inside one of them, and in front of her is a small garden decorated with scraggly trees which housed the mango-stealing monkey who had earlier been tormenting the dorm’s inhabitants, and a little walking path. Earlier, in the dark, she saw Arunmozhi and her mother (her mother!) start off on a little walk along the path. She supposes it does make sense; they have not seen each other in a while, and he has explained to her how Mandakini saved him from that lake, and that rickshaw, and also his own slippery bathtub once in this very same dorm. They’re old pals: Nandini knew this going into the venture. He knows sign language and everything, and can communicate with her far better than Nandini can. So it makes sense that they must now catch each other up – she on why the police inspector was bribed to arrest her (this is still a little muddy) and he on his future career plans (vague) and current family business rescue plans (hairbrained and relying too much on the goodwill of Nandini herself, if she’s being honest). But watching them go, arm in arm, signing animatedly at one another left a strange ache in her heart. That was a while ago. Bits of the yard are illuminated by the light from one or two dorm windows, but on whole, it is past curfew, and therefore dark; Nandini is more or less alone with her thoughts and also the noise from the city beyond the wall. 

Being alone, she has spent the last thirty seconds staring sightlessly at some invisible point in front of her, eyes the size of saucers, spiraling.

“Erm – ahem.”

Nandini startles so badly her bangle-clad wrist nearly knocks into her own nose.

Aditha Karikalan has never been particularly tall. When they were teenagers there was a brief month where she had an inch on him. Right now, however, he stands above her such that she has to look up, and once more notice the fact that he does carry himself with a kind of dignified height. Which Nandini appreciates. Or did appreciate. Or – well, she is not sure. The last week has been quite a lot of everything. He wears a loose linen button down in a bright orange pattern open over a t-shirt, and a simple dhoti clumsily tied (she remembers the rare time he wore one in school, when they weren’t wearing their uniforms, she had helped him tie it), and sandals, and his wrists are sporting a nice fancy watch but they’re also covered in enough bead bracelets that, paired with his hair – unruly and wild and long as ever – he really does look far more the part of children’s camp counselor than first son of any kind of business mogul-cum-politician. 

Which Nandini appreciates. Or could appreciate. Or – well, she is not sure. A week ago, she would have very deliberately said, well, and what does a camp counselor make, anyway – I want to be a Bollywood actress, and glared him down out of spite. 

The last week really has been a lot of everything.

Anyway; she stares at him. Amidst her up-til-now very private spiraling.

Her mother her mother her mother her mother oh she is so known but so unknown oh they cannot love the same oh perhaps Nandini cannot love at all oh that must mean that must mean must it mean? that she, Nandini, well could she be broken is that what her mother sees surely she sees –

“I just – well. There’s the – the restroom is right there. So I’d come to …” And here Aditha stops his terribly uncomfortable and verging on comical awkward explanation, tilts his head – some immaterial spark of understanding happening in his sharp lovely eyes – and says, in an abortedly gruff tone that does very little to prevent what happens next,  “Nandini … are you – alright?”

Nandini, rather unexpectedly, begins blubbering. Loudly.

Her face crumples in on itself. Her shoulders hunch inward. Her nose gets snotty and her throat clogs up. And in general, she makes a very pathetic sort of hiccupy wailing noise, which she had not planned for.

“Shit,” says Aditha above her, after a moment of stunned silence. “Fuck, okay – Nandini? Well, you shouldn’t cry – come on, pull it together. The toilets are right there, look, someone’s even using them. Uh – well – alright, alright. It’s alright.”

None of his stammered, asinine condolences register much in Nandini’s ears. She is just very overwhelmed. It is only after a moment of her crying, sat on her rump outside the men’s toilets, that the stiff, chilly awkwardness of the night air changes, and there is a person quite suddenly beside her, and then not just beside her at all, but holding her – his arms carefully wrapped around her shoulders, his warm chest a perfect distance from her cheek, his large hands flattening clumsily over her back. Their knees bump together, and it isn’t very graceful at all – she refuses to move, so he must lean over ungainingly, and is probably quite uncomfortable doing it. 

Nandini cries into Aditha’s shoulder for five or ten minutes. He only pats her back stupidly once, at the start, and by the end of it, it is a proper embrace, and they are even rocking back and forth just a little.

It’s nice.

Presently, Nandini’s tears slow, and she registers the position she is in more properly. Whole-bodily, in fact. She had not expected that her body’s memory would slip back into this embrace so easily, and the realization is disquieting. She does not move, and Aditha does not move – she wonders if he is having the same panicked, wary thoughts – and so they sit in a stupid little impasse, hugging, for another two minutes. 

It’s getting to the point where she is noticing his cologne, so Nandini decides it is high time to pull herself together; she sits up, wiping at the snot on her face, and pretends her stomach is not in knots. A lopsided roll of toilet paper materializes in front of her nose. Oh – Aditha is holding it. She eyes it like a ticking bomb. It’s a bit squashed, like it was in his pocket. He must have brought it with him, earlier, which means he really did mean to use the bathroom, which means he hadn’t actually sought her out – 

Had he? He’s still holding her, sort of, and Nandini is terribly disoriented to realize that it is not an abhorrent sort of feeling, as she has very deliberately imagined it would be in the past, when hosting her more elaborate and vindictive daydreams in which she supposed they might reunite, not because she missed him badly but because she nursed ongoing fantasies of holy vengeance; all of those ended with her dumping a bucket of slop over his head. Instead, she has stopped feeling a decent measure of her earlier anxiety, and is breathing more normally now, and the rapidity of her thoughts have veered away from the breakneck pace of before. 

That could just be the crying. Her brother used to say that a tender weeping was good for one’s spirit. 

Nandini’s lip wobbles again; she misses Nambi, and is overwhelmed with a trickling feeling of shame – hadn’t she just left him, for so many months, and ignored all his overly-formal emails? 

The idea of emails makes her remember she has not sent a mildly threatening missive (subject line: I Know You Know Something About Mandakini Nolastname) from her ghost account to Sundura Chola in a while, and then that makes her think, well, it’s pointless now – her stalwart ally Arnunmozhi won’t have any reason to give her gently reproachful looks re: her long term haunting of his invalid father anymore – she’s found her mother – and then she is re-visited, very strongly, at once, by the dual reality of oh God her mother and oh God, Aditha is holding me.

Fuck, she needs to blow her nose.

“Here,” comes Aditha’s low voice, as though he’s read her mind. Which of course he hasn’t. But still. He tears off a piece of the toilet paper for her. Nandini trembles, and does not know whether she ought to lean in closer, or pull away entirely. She can feel his heartbeat against her shoulder, and while Nandini does not have a lot of experience with the biological sciences, it is beating rather more quickly than the average human heart ought to be.

“Oh,” she says, taking the tissue on autopilot. She dabs at her face, which must surely be smeared in kajol by now, and then her nose, which is probably ugly and red.

Good thing it’s so late at night.

After she’s done, because there doesn’t seem anything better to do – the alternative is getting up and fleeing, and Nandini is not a coward – she turns and stares at him.

Aditha clears his throat and scuffs one foot into the dirt at their feet, but he doesn’t look away. He’s grown a beard. She noticed this first thing last week. He never had one before.

“It’s just,” Nandini says, again on autopilot, “-- my mother.”

Ah, her mother. Poonghuzhali had demonstrated a very rare bout of tearful emotion and Arunmozhi his by now expected kindly friendship; Vandiyadevan had slipped her extra clementines after his grocery run and even Kundavai had been looking at her more gently than usual all afternoon. 

Until now, Aditha had been avoiding her. At her words his expression flickers, oddly, a shade of genuine concern colouring his face, before settling into something not quite effortless in its knowing but careful and gentle. She’d forgotten that he could look at her like that. It’s different now, just a little bit. The Look from before was more boyish, and the look now has a kind of sadness to it that makes it feel more real. Maybe it’s the beard. Unease fills her chest again, tenses up her hands. What must he be thinking? Why did he go about all day avoiding her? Alright, so she has also been avoiding him – all week now, to be sure – but – but –

“It must be really strange,” he says suddenly. His voice is deeper than before but not by much. She has not noticed this until right now, because they are sitting so closely and he is speaking quite softly. “Finding – finding someone who is so like you, all of a sudden.”

Whatever was on the verge of backflipping in the pit of Nandini’s stomach sours. Her chin trembles; she looks away. “I suppose.”

“Can’t really prepare for it, I guess.”

She sniffs. “I’ve been looking for months,” she says, more pointedly than perhaps she means. Looking does not equal preparation; the person she was in that Sri Lankan library was not entirely well, let alone prepared. Nandini is woman enough to acknowledge this. To herself, anyway. 

“It’s – it’s funny really,” he continues, deliberately gruff again, but not with the awkwardness of before; it’s more sincere now, roughened with honesty, yet in a way that is entirely oblivious to Nandini’s chin wobbles, “I can’t really understand what she’s saying half the time,” he rubs at his knee with one free hand, “but you know what I’ll tell you – I don’t think – well, I’ve never seen anyone with the same sort of sweetness in their face.” 

“As what,” croaks Nandini.

He looks at her strangely. Nightlife honks and buzzes past the dorm walls, cocooning them. “As you,” he says, like she is being stupid.

Nandini flushes deep from within. No – he must be lying. Hadn’t he called her a poisonous witch just last week? 

She supposes he must have meant that, but she knows Aditha well, and she knows when he is lying, even now – she has come to know, through many a painful altercation (the witch thing, and also she has threatened to kill him a few times) – and she resolves that whatever he meant last week, right now, he is also being honest. She feels somewhat dizzy. The urge to bolt is real. He, too, is looking a bit terrified, like maybe he did not exactly plan to say that in so many words, or maybe he had but now that it is out in the open he’s realizing it sounds a lot more – a lot more – than anticipated. 

“Have you really watched my show?” Nandini blurts out, more loudly than she means to. 

If Aditha’s eyes were wide already, they widen even further in alarm. This was a tidbit Vandiyadevan gave away two days ago; she thinks Aditha has still not forgiven him. He stammers,

“It was the only thing on TV,” with very little bravado. But then, before Nandini’s chest can deflate, as though shaking himself he says, more resolutely, “well, what was I supposed to do? That one scene of yours went viral on Twitter and the aunties at camp – who know very little about acting, may I add – just repeated what they read, blah blah blah like twittering little quails, but I am an educated person, Nandini, and a role model for children, and I have to investigate my news for myself –”

“Thank you for the tissue,” Nandini interrupts, because if she keeps her mouth occupied, then maybe that will quell its urge to spread into a large smile – maybe even emit a hysteric giggle or two – as if it’s forgotten that she only went into dead-end television acting in the first place because of the Veera Pandiyan scandal –

How much of that was really Aditha’s fault, though?

Nandini’s heart thumps rapidly. Now she’s really being crazy. Think of your mother again, girl. Go back to blubbering or something. Aditha blinks at her a few times. The light is pretty dim (they are lit from behind), but just enough that she can see the flush on his neck and ears. Have they been this close the whole time? 

“You – you were shivering when I got here,” he manages, instead of answering. “It’s kind of cold, isn’t it?”

Nandini is not shivering now. In fact, the place where his arm is still held against her back is so warm she thinks she could doze off in contentment just leaned up against him, if not for the fact that her stomach is doing gymnastics beneath the crop of her top. She nods anyway.

“I will be fine.”

“You should wear your jacket,” he says, roughly.

Nandini blinks. “Oh – no, I can’t. That’s yours.”

She isn’t looking for a reaction, per se; the words just sort of come out. She can very well see the bob of his throat, though, and the slight inhale he takes – his chest moves against her shoulder – before he says,

“Come on, Nandu, it was a gift.”

Nandini is overcome by a very strong urge to scream. Or swoon. If she had ever had reasons for wanting to kill him, she’s forgotten them just now. In fact it is very easy to forget the existence of everything around them – her lingering fragility about her mother, or the fact that they are right out in the wide open air, and there’s the real possibility that Kundavai of all bloody people will interrupt them. All these are things entirely immaterial, because unbidden her hand has moved up to press gently against Aditha’s chest, and she can clearly feel the rough pad of his thumb against the bare skin of her back, and they really are sitting so very close – a puff of his breath brushes against her cheek – and her heart goes thump thump thump thump so loudly she can’t really hear anything else.

His eyes have dropped to her mouth. “Nandini, love …” he starts, in a murmured, involuntary whisper.

Nandini tilts her head so very slightly closer …

Bang! 

If it is possible for two people to jump a foot apart while still being seated, Nandini and Aditha achieve this. Behind them, in the spilling light of the open bathroom door, lounges the person of Vandiyadevan, who is doing a very bad job at putting on suave and chill airs. Faintly, there is the sound of a toilet flushing behind him.

“No one could have guessed how badly this door sticks, eh?” he says loudly, holding up a roll of paper not unsimilar to Aditha’s. He tries and fails to adjust his footing, stumbling sideways a little into the door frame and then giving them both the finger guns. “Well! Beautiful night. Don’t mind me, carry on!”

“Vandiyadevan,” Aditha’s voice filters into her ears distantly, like it is coming from very far away. “How – long … have you been in there?”

“I was using the facilities! What, can’t a man take a piss after a long day’s honest espionage –? Ayyo! Wait, no, I promise I’m leaving!”

“That’s not the – we weren’t doing anything –!” Nandini hears Aditha splutter out in a strangled yell.

Which is just as well, too, because by the time he has turned back around, she is already gone, bangles clinking as she flees, scrambled away to hide behind the dark corner of the building’s edge, where stands frozen and with her eyes squeezed shut, while her errant, traitorous heart tries its damndest to beat right out of her chest.

[dimentio-fan]

Erm... I've said this in a few comments so far, but uh... to my one and only mutual... what the absolute fuck did we start in @jell-o101 's feed? What did we do!?

Read this fic if you don't understand. But be warned. It is DARK and CRUEL. Read at your own risk.

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/21786343"><strong>For Your Entertainment</strong></a> (53628 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/snugglyrabbits"><strong>snugglyrabbits</strong></a><br />Chapters: 13/13<br />Fandom: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Super%20Mario%20*a*%20Related%20Fandoms">Super Mario &amp; Related Fandoms</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Super%20Mario%20Bros*d*%20(Video%20Games)">Super Mario Bros. (Video Games)</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Mario%20*a*%20Luigi%20RPG%20(Video%20Games)">Mario &amp; Luigi RPG (Video Games)</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Super%20Paper%20Mario%20(Game)">Super Paper Mario (Game)</a><br />Rating: Mature<br />Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death<br />Relationships: Luigi/Mamekku Ouji | Prince Peasley, Mario/Peach Toadstool<br />Characters: Luigi (Nintendo), Mamekku Ouji | Prince Peasley, Peach-hime | Peach Toadstool, Mario (Nintendo), Princess Daisy, Kinopiko | Toadette, Kinopio | Toad, Kinojii | Toadsworth, Koopa | Bowser, Prince Dreambert (Mario & Luigi RPG), Professor E. Gadd, Dimēn | Dimentio<br />Additional Tags: Angst, Revenge, Death, Gore, Murder, Torture, Luigi Suffering, Implied/Referenced Suicide<br />Summary: <p>An old foe returns from the afterlife, seeking revenge on Luigi.</p>

Sorry the link is so much longer, I couldn't copy the actual link so I just hit share and copied the link it gave me.

[altbaake]

Heyo, Alex Here!

(Recent edit: 05-31-24)

Just a small little reminder, this blog will contain SLIGHTLY AND/OR IMPLIED SUGGESTIVE CONTENT. Even though I will put up warnings, PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION. That being said, please also don't expect full-on NSFW. I'm not that type of artist, so don't ask or request me to.

I'm an Asian-American artist who tends to hyper-fixate on things (it happens a lot I'm sorry-). I do a mix of multifandom/fanart and original work, but I hope you look forward to the art I make lol.

If you're interested in where to find me elsewhere, here's my Carrd. This is also where my Comms info is located (It is close atm tho)

If you want to see more personal work and non-suggestive content, I have a main account in the works: @albaake

My alt Instagram is not linked in my Carrd, but if you want to check it out as well it's also altbaake. Same warnings and rules.

Current fixations: Br0ken Colors, Date with Death

SOME BOUNDARIES I HAVE

My ask box & submissions are open, however, don't use them as a means to request art or send/say anything inappropriate.

Please don't DM me unless you are a mutual and/or someone interested in commissioning me.

I'd appreciate it if you don't repost, trace, or claim my work. If you like my work, please reshare it or leave a like instead.

I STRICTLY PROHIBIT my art being used for AI generation, NFTs, or any way that disrespects my work as an artist.

I draw the things I like and what I'm interested in. It's not gonna be everyone's cup of tea and that's fine! If you like the content I make, feel free to browse. If not, please don't be weird and hateful, and just move on. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean you have to be a jerk about it and make others feel bad for enjoying things.

I draw alot of my Br<3kencolor MC Sokha Kim on this blog and mostly draw him with Rasmus. So a lot of OC x Cannon content. If you wanna know more about him, here's his toyhouse!

Sokha Kim Toyhouse!

Lastly, I will say that Sokha is not a representation of me or my "persona." He's a character I've made specifically for Br<3ken Colors. When playing these types of games, I tend to sub in a character instead of inserting myself into it. This just goes for any like VN whenever it's NSFW or SFW, I find it more enjoyable this way. So ye, there wasn't a specific reason for me to put this little note other than to clarify for my own sake. 

[confessions-official]

i’m so sick and tired of constantly having to explain my emotions and why i react in the ways i do and bring told then that im being manipulative. when i never have any ulterior motives, nor do i have any wish for it to even benefit me. im just trying to get to a point where there’s mutual understanding. and every single time im even explaining myself it’s because i was asked to. why is it manipulative to say “i think im more angry about the situation than i probably should br because of [outside stressors and possible trauma trigger]. im sorry.”? why is it manipulative if im not even placing blame on anyone? why does this keep happening to me?

 

[urnumber1star]

Writer Questionare

Thanks @leahnardo-da-veggie for the tag!

How long have you had your writing tumblr/writeblr? a fast and loose estimate is fine!

A bit more than three months I think!

What led you to create it?

I wanted to follow a specific creator. Then I started looking around Tumblr a bit more and realized people shared their writing on here and got excited. 

What’s your favourite thing about the writeblr community?

I feel like everyone is so nice and supportive. At least in my experience so far. And I love that!

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

I talk a lot. You might already know that. If i'm ever a little too much i'm so sorry. I talk WAY too much sometimes.

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

Maybe a bit more different accounts. I love you guys but my dash is kinda all the same people over and over again lmao.

Which wips or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Well definitely BRS as it’s my main WIP. But I had a dream about a really old WIP of mine last night so now it’s sort of just stuck in my brain.

How long have you been working on them?

I've been working on BRS for about three months! 

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

Yes I do! I was listening to a song while on my bedroom floor and I got a scene idea and I wrote a story about it. 

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

I'm not sure. Maybe three or four hours?

When someone asks the dreaded, “what do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

I usually just say it depends because that’s honestly it. Everything I write about is never remotely the same. 

Name any characters you created. side characters, protagonists, antagonists, characters who’ve never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you’d like!

Well the WIP from years ago I think I’ll talk about because I need to. Tari (Protag),  Leon, Fenix, Kay, Angelica, Pocky (My friend named her lol), Taylor, Victor, Lady Athesia, Nightmare Fenix. Fun fact this is the first WIP I ever wrote with an actual plot! :]

Who’s the most unhinged?

Tari. That woman has issues. 

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

As of BRS it’s Ray. I’m not sure why but he just comes very easily to me.

Do you ever cringe at them?

Definitely. All the time.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters? do they ever “write themselves,” refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn’t expect? to what degree? are some less cooperative than others?

They control the whole story for me. I have absolutely no control over them and it's a pain. But it makes the process more fun!

What makes you want to follow another writeblr account? do you follow ‘em as you see ‘em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? Do you follow based on wips, or vibes?

I definitely follow based on WIPs and vibes. I take a look at their stuff and if I like it I follow. That’s probably why I follow so many people haha.

What makes you decide against following?

Rude people. If you’re rude to people I wont waste my time following you.

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

Sometimes. Sometimes we just forget to follow each other lol. Not very often though.

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

Yes. Many. Currently @the-ellia-west s Jak is running around my brain at the moment. 

Gently tagging @agirlandherquill, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @illarian-rambling, @mysticstarlightduck + Anyone else!

[pluto-sims]

15 questions for 15 mutuals

waaaa tysm @woosteru for the tag! this was fun >:)

are you named after anyone? nahhh, i named myself but the name i ACTUALLY wanted (elliott) is already taken by a cousin so. eli was as close as i could get asdfgh

when was the last time you cried? this morning lmao this is my sad boy era what can i say

do you have kids? oh heck no

do you use sarcasm a lot? i have perhaps been known to dabble

what sports do you play/have you played? damn i used to do uhhhh cross country, sprinting, cricket, swimming and tai chi...now my only form of exercise is running away from my problems :)

what’s the first thing you notice about other people? hmmmm probably their voice?

eye colour? hazel

scary movies or happy endings? i find horror films soooo boring so i guess happy endings?

any special talents? my messiness (mentally? socially? the literal messiness of my room? you decide)

where were you born? br*tain (ik im sorry)

what are your hobbies? art, audiobooks and staring into the void

do you have any pets? tragically no....i used to have cats and fish, tho! and a giant african land snail!

how tall are you? 5'4 / 163cm

fave subject in school? history!

dream job? literally anything hahahahaaaaaaaaaaa (aka unemployed, desperate and 0 job prospects!)

i tag: @citrlet @kissalopa @papiermaker @simsdada @tinysimmer @wrixie @minty-plumbob @deathbypufferfish @void-imp @nicatnite88 @strngetown @nizaberry @alelelesimz @musims @saartje77 and anyone else who wants to do it asdfgh, please feel free to ignore if you've already done it or don't want to!!

[bafflement]

Deaged Oz AU. A different way to deal with Adam Taurus...

"Miss... Weiss? I need to have a private word with you, if that's alright?"

Weiss sighed. "It's just Weiss, Oz... stop calling me miss?"

"At least you know it's me?"

"Yes, but we'd know that anyway. You're a little boy, Oz and your voice sounds like it. What do you need?"

Oz blinked at that, before deciding to ignore the comment. "You stated that you hate your father, Weiss. How far, precisely, does that hatred extend?"

"I want nothing to do with him. Again, why?"

"Because there may be another way to get Mr Taurus away from Miss Belladonna. However, it requires sacrificing your father."

"You think my father's death would get him away from her?"

"Frankly, yes. He was treated abominably by the Schnee Dust Company, under your father's orders. How far do you think he would be willing to go for revenge?"

"I'm not sure I like the idea of using my father's death to buy currency with the Faunus... but then again..."

"If he is dead, he can no longer harm your mother, or your brother. Or you. The way he has treated all of you... was I currently still an adult I may have dealt with him anyway. I'm certain James would look the other way. Considering his attachment to your sister..."

"... he may even help... Oz, I can't say yes to you killing my father. But at the same time, I can't deny that it might be justifiable. I just... don't tell me until after the deed is done? I'm still a trainee huntress and you're still a huntsman."

"And hunters are sworn to end monsters. All monsters, not just the Grimm. I'm sorry, Weiss. I understand if you'll never talk to me again, besides it is merely one possibility amongst a few."

"You are my friend. Blake is my friend. My father may have sired me but he would sell Winter and I both in a heartbeat if it got him some sort of advantage. He locked me away. Oz? Please, leave me alone for awhile? I need to think."

"Of course. My apologies, Weiss." Oz bowed his head and left her to it, the others giving him strange looks on his return.

"What did you tell Weiss?" Yang asked, sounding curious and protective at the same time.

"Nothing you need concern yourself with yet, Miss Xiao Long."

"... Oz, you said you wouldn't keep any more secrets." She sounded vaguely ominous and Oz sighed.

"It isn't a secret. Merely an idea and likely a terrible one. I just worry for Miss Belladonna with the situation with Mr Taurus..."

"We all do."

"Yes, well... part of me hopes to run into him. We have things to discuss."

"... Oz, you're human. He won't want to talk to you."

"We'll see."

In the end, Adam ran into them. He seemed delighted to see Blake... for a given value of delighted, but rather less impressed when confronted by a silver haired ten year old.

"Ah. Mister Taurus, I was rather hoping I might run into you."

"That eager to die, child?" Adam sneered.

"Not exactly, but I believe we could come to a mutually beneficial agreement."

"I doubt it, but say I'm listening, kid. What sort of agreement."

"Myself and my friends work together to deliver Jaques Schnee to you on a silver platter and you let Blake live her own life and make her own choices." Oz's voice could have been carved out of solid stone.

"... I'm listening, kid..."

"I do not know what he did to you, sir. But he is a monster who preys on those weaker than him. Monsters on Remnant get put down."

"... I almost believe you, child. But you're human, why should I trust you to deliver on your end of this bargain."

"Simple. We deliver Jaques Schnee to you and you leave Blake alone. If we do not, you are free to try. I will fight you if I must, but his death at this point would be justifiable germicide."

Adam laughed, harshly. "I'm not scared of you, boy. But if you can do this, I suppose I will owe you enough of a debt to let Blake make her own choices. You ask what he did to me?" Adam raised his blindfold, showing the brand over one eye. Behind Oz, Weiss let out a cry of fury.

"Mister Taurus? If i can locate that brand, promise to use it on my father?"

Adam's eyes lit up, looking at Weiss with far less hostility than any of them had deemed possible.

"For that, little Miss Schnee? You have my respect. If you can do this and your friend can deliver your father... I will leave Blake alone. More, I'll try not to kill any of you. Fair?"

"Entirely." Oz stated, evenly.

"You never did introduce yourself, child... you look almost like she does but not at the same time. Who are you?"

"I believe you would know a previous version of me as Ozaryn."

Adam looked poleaxed.

"You... you're Ozaryn? Or you used to be? Why didn't you say that to start with... you helped found Faunus society..."

The others were staring at him, now, too.

"It was a last resort. As it stands, we deliver you Jaques Schnee and you leave Blake alone."

"Of course. You'll hear from me soon. Sir."

Adam left, back stiff and fists clenched.

"... Oz? Explain. Now."

"I'm not sure how to. Maybe ask Blake when we get back?" Oz demured.

"Uh HUH. Just how many mythical figures were you, anyway?"

"I... I'm not actually sure?" Oz blushed, ducking his head in mortification. "Some of them. not all."

"just those called Oz?" It was Jaune's turn to sigh. "Lets go back, pocket sized... you can explain later."

[cheeyathebard]

Bark at The Moon

Bark at the Moon

Hey.

“Hey. I’m glad you called. I thought you were still mad at me.”

I’m soooo fucking mad at you.

“But... you said you wanted to get together... right?”

I can be mad and still want to see you. They're not mutually exclusive... I mean... I missed you when you were gone, and I want to see you now. But yeah, I’m still furious at you for just disappearing for so long. I just think…

“Chlo, you’re rambling.”

That’s because I’m livid, Beca! And I’m barely holding it together!

Beca switched her phone to her other ear, sighing softly. “I know. I’m sorry. Look, Chloe, I... I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I had no choice and, if you’ll just let me explain, maybe you... you won’t hate me?”

Chloe was quiet on the other end of the line, soft breathing the only indication that she was still there. Beca waited patiently, not wanting to make her even madder by pushing.

Ok, her ex-girlfriend finally replied. But Bec... you hurt me... a lot.

“I know,”Beca replied, voice raspy with upset. “I never wanted to hurt you, Baby.”

You gave up the right to call me that when you left me.

“Right... sorry. Um... so, meet at our favorite place?”

No... Chloe sniffed hard. I... I can’t... let’s meet at the café across from my clinic. Six o’clock.

“I’ll be there,” Beca replied. She was about to say something else when the line cut off, so she set her phone on the table and rubbed between her furrowed eyebrows. How the hell was she going to explain everything to the love of her life without driving her away forever?

Xx

“Baby steps,” Beca murmured as she found a table near the back of the café. She needed somewhere quiet where she and Chloe could talk without being overheard easily. “Just stay calm and be honest.” She took a seat and then pulled her coat and scarf off, setting them with her purse on the seat next to her. It was just after six and she knew Chloe would be coming shortly and...

But Beca wasn’t ready for the jolt in her guts at seeing the redhead enter the café after three months of missing her more than anything else in the world. Chloe looked stunning, even just dressed in simple scrubs. She’d cut her hair to just above her shoulders and its natural curl perfectly framed her face. Her blue eyes popped in the overhead light and her lipstick, a shade darker than Beca remembered, brought out her natural skin tone beautifully.

Then those eyes were on her, and Chloe made her way toward her, hips swaying as she moved between tables and chairs. Beca slowly stood, hands in her pockets to keep from reaching out for her as she got close enough to touch. She was aching to hold Chloe all the way into her soul.

“Hi,” the redhead said as she paused awkwardly. Her eyes looked everywhere except into Beca’s and after a moment of indecision, she just slipped out of her jacket and set it next to the brunette’s.

“Hi,” Beca replied. “You look so beautiful, Chlo.”

“Don’t...” Chloe said, shaking her head. “We’re not together anymore. You don’t have to say shit like that.”

It felt like a slap in the face and Beca shrank back to just take her seat again and nod. “Right. I deserved that.”

Tears welled in the redhead’s eyes and her face gentled as she took a seat opposite her old friend. “I’m sorry,” she said then. “I’m just... I wasn’t prepared for how hard it would be to see you, Bec.”

They just gazed at each other for a long span of pounding heartbeats, but then their server broke the tension by coming to take their order. “What can I get you?” the woman asked, not altogether oblivious to the energy between them.

“Two lattes, please,” Beca said automatically.

Chloe didn’t correct her.

“Coming right up.”

Again, they gazed at each other but then the vet was the first to speak. “I love you, Beca. That hasn’t changed in the last three months. But I can’t... I don’t understand what happened. One day we’re happy, living a beautiful life together and the next, you’re gone and all I have left is a note with two fucking sentences on it.”

Beca sucked in a breath as tears threatened her composure. She remembered how hard it had been just to write the note... how all she could get onto the paper were those two lines as her mind and body had begun to change... how her dad had had to drag her out of the apartment before...

“I know,” she said quietly. “I wanted to write more... to explain... but there wasn’t time, Chlo. I swear.”

Chloe’s hand suddenly slammed down onto the table, making the brunette jump. “No time? No time?! What the hell, Beca?! You’ve had two and a half months!”

“I know,” Beca said calmly. “But after the first two weeks, I just didn’t know what to say... how to explain. I’m not sure I even know what to say now, honestly. But I owe it to you to at least try.”

They paused their conversation as the server brought their coffee. Chloe was obviously seething, and she took deep breaths to try to calm herself. “Alright,” she said after a moment. “I said I’d hear you out. Let’s hear it.”

Beca swallowed. The moment was here. The moment she’d spent the last few days rehearsing. And she couldn’t remember a damn thing she wanted to say. Chloe’s eyebrows lifted in question.

“Three months ago,” Beca heard herself say. “I was at the label working on a song for this douchebag artist. We weren't getting along. He was irritating the hell out of me, and I had to bite my tongue every time he tried to mansplain my job to me.”

The redhead took a sip of her coffee, nodding to show she was listening. Beca paused to gather her thoughts. “Go on, Bec.”

“We’d had a pretty major disagreement and I lost my temper with him, but instead of like... yelling or whatever, I started growling. Like... real deep growls like a dog.”

Chloe blinked and tilted her head. “Like a... dog?”

“Or a wolf,” the brunette added quietly. “I looked down at my hands and my fingernails had like... thickened and sharpened and I had to hide my hands in my lap so he wouldn’t see. He was already looking at me like I was a crazy person, so I had to leave the room. I went to the bathroom and just waited until I had calmed down and my nails went back to normal.”

“Beca...” the older woman said, totally confused, but Beca held up her hand.

“That was the day before I left home. You were working the late shift at the clinic, and I was alone and so scared, Chloe. I didn’t know what was happening... and then the phone rang. It was my dad and he was acting really weird.”

“Weird in what way?” the redhead asked softly.

“First, he asked me if I was ok. Then he asked me if... if... anything weird had happened to me in the past couple of days. I mean... what was I supposed to say, you know?”

Chloe nodded, sipping her coffee again. “What else did he say?”

“He told me something that, if I hadn’t seen already with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed.” Beca paused and sipped her own coffee. “He told me that the first full moon since my twenty-third birthday was the next night and that... that...” She shook her head. “That he was coming to get me. That he needed to get me somewhere safe.”

The redhead frowned. “I don’t get it,” she said.

“I didn’t either at first,” the younger woman agreed. “He told me he was already on his way from Georgia and that he’d be in New York the next morning. Then he started apologizing profusely.”

“Apologizing for what?” Chloe asked curiously.

“This is where the unbelievable part comes in,” Beca said, voice trembling. “He told me that...” She paused and swallowed hard. “The Mitchell family line had a history of being werewolves.”

The redhead almost snorted her coffee out through her nose. She coughed and then grabbed a napkin to wipe her face. “Wait! What? Did you just say...?”

“Yeah. Werewolves. It’s a real thing.”

Chloe shook her head. “You mean clinical lycanthropy, right? The psychiatric syndrome?”

But the brunette shook her head. “No, I mean werewolves. Real, changing from a human into a dangerous animal, werewolves.”

The redhead sat back in her seat and shook her head, holding up her hands. “Bec...”

“Look, I know it sounds crazy, Chloe. I told my dad he was crazy and hung up on him, but he kept calling me back. He sounded so scared. He apologized because he’d misjudged my age and it was when he realized I had turned twenty-three the previous month that he got in his car and started driving. I didn’t want to believe it but with the growling and the nail thing.” She shrugged. “I had to admit to myself that it maybe was real.”

Chloe didn’t move. She didn’t speak. Then her eyebrows slowly lifted. “You’re telling me...” she began slowly. “Like actually expecting me to believe... that you’re a werewolf?”

Beca put a hand on her forearm, relieved when she didn’t pull away. “Stay with me, Chlo. So... by the time my dad made it to me, I could already feel the change coming on. I wasn’t thinking straight. He helped me pack a bag and we were about to leave when I remembered I needed to tell you. He didn’t want me to. He wanted me to just leave since I was already showing signs of...” She blushed hard. “Extra hair growth and stuff. But I insisted on leaving you that note. It was all I could write... my mind was going... my hands were changing... It was physically all I was able to do.”

Have to go. I love you forever.

Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I have no memory of what happened after he put me into the car, but I woke up twenty-four-hours later, naked in a cage, in an abandoned warehouse in New Jersey.”

Chloe gasped and clasped her friend’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Oh my God, Bec.”

The brunette sniffled a little then cleared her throat. “My dad was there too in another cage. He told me that he’d locked both of us up to make sure we didn’t hurt anyone. I didn’t get it at first... but then he showed me the camera footage he’d recorded. Chloe...” Beca took out her phone and tapped it against her cheek. “This is really hard to watch... terrifying even... but it’s the only proof I can give you that I’m telling you the truth.” She squeezed the redhead’s hand in return. “So, you have to make a choice. Watch it and maybe be so scared that you might never sleep again. Or don’t watch and never know if I was really telling you the truth.”

Chloe sat quietly for a while as she tried to get her head around the whole thing. She didn’t know what to think. It was a crazy story. Couldn’t be real, right? Yet... Beca had never lied to her before, not even when she’d messed up. Beca was one of the most trustworthy people she knew. Despite the pain and hurt she was feeling, she WANTED to believe that Beca hadn’t just walked out on her... on THEM.

“Bec,” she said then. “Can I... um... can I have some time to think?”

The brunette sat back in her seat. “Of course,” she replied. “I know I hurt you really badly, Chloe, but I just want you to know that I never intended any of this to happen.”

“Why did it take you so long to come back?” the older woman asked.

“The change is really hard on new wolves. The first two or three changes are brutal, and it takes time to recover. I’m only now feeling back to myself. I couldn’t risk hurting anyone by coming back sooner. Also, I was training to try to control it.”

“Control it?” Chloe repeated in surprise.

“Yeah,” Beca nodded. “During the full moon, we don’t have a choice because we’re driven to feed and mate, but I can change at will at any other time and I’m aware of who I am and my surroundings.”

Chloe’s eyebrows were in her hairline now. “Mate?”

“Every species is driven to procreate,” Beca chuckled. “My wolf is unfortunately heterosexual.” She grimaced. “Gross.”

“Ew,” Chloe teased. Then she actually smiled. It was the first one since she’d arrived, and it made Beca’s heart sing.

Coffee finished, the redhead looked at her watch and sobered. “I’ve gotta get home but... I’ll think about the video and let you know, ok?”

“Ok,” the brunette agreed. “And for what it’s worth, Chloe... I couldn’t be any sorrier for leaving you the way I did. I truly am so sorry because I ended up losing you.” Chloe’s breath hitched, and she nodded slowly. Then she got up and offered her hand to her ex-girlfriend. Beca took it and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet and into a hug. She took a shuddering breath and clung to Chloe like she never wanted to let her go. “And for the record. I love you too... more than ever.”

The redhead stepped back and with a nod and a swipe of her fingers over her cheeks to erase her tears, she grabbed her jacket and purse and left the café without looking back.

Xx

It took a few days of anxiety before Beca received the text she was waiting for; Chloe asking to come to her place to talk. She replied in the affirmative and gave the redhead her new address, then spent the rest of the day stressing about what she would do if Chloe told her she didn’t want to see either the video or her friend, ever again.

After cleaning her tiny studio three times, she finally settled down on the couch to wait. Right on time, there was a knock at the door, and she opened it to find her ex-girlfriend looking just as anxious as Beca felt.

“Hi,” Chloe said, but this time, she offered a tentative smile. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” the brunette replied, stepping back to make space for the redhead to pass her.

Chloe stepped inside but as she did, she paused and looked at Beca, their eyes finding each other's as they always had. “I... um...” she murmured. “I’m less mad at you.”

“I’ll take it,” Beca smiled, tentatively reaching out to squeeze the older woman’s hand. “Have a seat, I’ll pour some wine.”

“Nothing alcohol for me, thanks,” the redhead said.

“Diet Coke it is,” the brunette nodded, heading for the kitchen as Chloe took off her coat, scarf and beanie. She set them on the coat stand by the door and then ambled across the living room to take a seat on the couch. It was pretty cold in the apartment, and she shivered a little as Beca set the drinks on coasters on the coffee table. “Oh crap,” the younger woman said then. “I’m sorry, Chlo. I run hot these days, so I don’t bother with heating.” She grabbed a blanket from the closet and draped it around Chloe’s shoulders, then returned to the couch to take a seat on its opposite end to her friend.

“So...” Chloe said after a moment of silence. “I made a decision.” Beca swallowed and nodded. “I don’t want to watch the video.”

Beca’s heart fell but she totally understood and just nodded again. “I get it, Chlo...”

But a cool hand rested on her forearm. “No, you don’t, Bec.” Serious blue eyes gazed at her. “I don’t want to watch the video because I want to see it in person. I want to see you change, Beca.”

The brunette was on her feet in an instant, hands raised. “Chloe, no, it’s too dangerous!” she exclaimed. “I’m not... I’m not fully in control yet. I... If I hurt you, I’d never forgive myself!”

The redhead looked quietly up at her, hands clasped in her lap. “I’m willing to take that risk because... I thought about a lot of things, Beca,” she said. Then she got up and paced slowly, wood planks creaking softly under her boots. Beca just stood unmoving. “I thought about how much I love you and how miserable I’ve been these last three months. I thought about how you’ve never lied to me before, even if it meant you had to sleep on the couch for a couple of nights ‘cos you’d messed up. I thought about how I don’t want to live my life without you.” She stopped at the coffee table and picked up her glass to take a sip and gather her thoughts. “But if we’re to get back together, I need to see it. I need to understand what I’m signing up for before I get my pen, so to speak.”

Beca looked down, biting her bottom lip. She understood fully where Chloe was coming from, but she was so scared, her stomach was rolling. “On one condition,” she finally said. “And this is just for your safety. I’ll change in front of you but only if I’m in a cage.”

“Fair,” Chloe agreed with a smile. “When?”

“I’m not doing anything else now,” Beca shrugged. “You?”

The two women just looked at each other and then chuckled softly.

“Just going for a piece of pie, huh?” the redhead teased.

“Sure, while chained in a cage,” the brunette grinned.

“Kinky,” the older woman replied with a waggle of her eyebrows. She sobered then and looked away uncomfortably. She’d forgotten for a moment that she was still mad.

Beca sighed softly and then pulled out her phone. “I’ll get us an Uber to take us to Jersey. My dad left the stuff there.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were on their way and Beca smiled as Chloe held her hand almost shyly in the back of the car. “Does it hurt? The change?” the older woman asked very quietly.

Beca shrugged. “Some of my female pack members liken it to childbirth,” she whispered back. “Hurts like fuck at the time but you kinda forget that afterwards.”

“Huh,” Chloe grunted, pursing her lips. “Interesting.”

“Does this mean you believe me?” the brunette asked.

The older woman chuckled softly. “I’m not sure I’ll believe it, even when I see it with my own eyes,” she said. “But... yeah, I think I do, Becs.”

To her credit, Chloe was shaking only a little as they stepped out of the cab in front of an old, rundown building in a seedy neighborhood. She grasped her purse tightly to her as she looked around.

“I know, it sucks,” Beca shrugged but she continued, taking her friend’s hand as she walked toward the entrance. They stepped inside the dark, musty space and Chloe gasped as she felt something run across the toe of her boot. “It’s ok, just a rat.”

“JUST a rat,” the redhead muttered. “JUST a rat, she says.” She followed the brunette nonetheless and as they navigated through some old equipment, they rounded a corner to find a small open space. In the center of the space were two steel cages, a few feet apart. Inside them were chains connected to metal rings soldered to the frame. “Wow.”

“Not real pretty,” Beca shrugged. “But necessary. We have very little control during the full moon.” She paused and then sighed. “Honestly, that’s the bad thing about being a werewolf. I could choose to never change and live a life as a normal human if I wasn't forced into it by the full moon.”

Chloe nodded, face sympathetic. “Sooooo...” She looked around. “What happens now.”

The younger woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a key. She pressed it into the redhead’s palm and then closed Chloe’s hand around it. “Now I lock myself inside. You’ll have the key to let me out if I’m in control. If not, do not, under ANY circumstances let me out. Understand?”

Chloe nodded again. “Yeah, I understand.”

Beca took a deep breath and then started to walk to the cage, but Chloe stopped her, taking her arm and pulling her back. “Hi,” she said, looking right into her ex-girlfriend's eyes.

“Hi,” Beca whispered.

“Be careful, ok? Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’ll try not to.” Beca turned then and went into the cage, closing the door and locking the padlock on the outside of the door. Then she turned to face Chloe. “Ok, ready?”

“No,” the older woman replied. “But do it anyway.”

Beca nodded and slowly stripped out of her clothes, passing them to her friend through the bars. Then she closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. Nothing happened for a moment but then Chloe’s hand shot to her mouth as the brunette suddenly dropped to her knees, groaning loudly. In the silence of the huge warehouse space, cracking and popping noises began echoing in Chloe’s ears and she couldn’t help but move closer to the cage.

Beca was on her side now and the redhead watched, eyes wide and terrified as her limbs began to stretch, growing new joints as coarse hair began to sprout from every follicle under Beca’s skin.

“Oh my God, Beca,” she cried out and yellow eyes peeked out from behind the curtain of the younger woman’s hair.

“It’s ok,” Beca said, voice octaves deeper and rumbling through a growl. Then she rolled onto her back, arching it as her body hair grew thicker and her chest expanded into something broader and with heavier bone. The cracking and popping got louder as Beca’s jawline moved and morphed and her nose widened into a snout with whiskers and terrifyingly sharp teeth. Chloe had to look away, eyes screwed tightly shut as the love of her life howled in pain.

Then there was sudden quiet.

Dripping water became the loudest sound in the space, coupled with the light squeaking of the JUST rats

Chloe kept her eyes shut, still afraid to look but... was that a whimper? Another louder whimper sounded out and the vet in the redhead recognized the sound of a wounded animal. She immediately opened her eyes and moved closer to the cage, peering inside. Then her eyes widened, and she could hardly breathe.

Beca’s wolf was beautiful. She was standing on four legs, just peering at Chloe through yellow, intelligent eyes. Her fur was thick, the color of Beca’s normal dark hair and her paws were highlighted in silver socks. Her tail was bushy with silver tips to match.

“Oh, Beca,” Chloe whispered, kneeling as close as she could get to the bars and holding out her hand. For a moment, the wolf just stayed where she was, gazing at Chloe with love in her eyes. Then she lowered herself submissively and crawled slowly forward to nuzzle the redhead’s outstretched palm. A beaming smile broke out on the vet’s face, and she ruffled Beca’s fur, adoring how soft it was. “All that expensive conditioner paid off, huh?” she teased.

Wolf-Beca made a sound halfway between a snort and a growl. Chloe could practically see the smirk and eyeroll.

“Are you ok?” the redhead asked, looking the wolf over to make sure she didn’t have any obvious injuries.

Wolf-Beca nodded, then her mouth opened to let her tongue loll out in a show of happy panting.

“It’s official,” the older woman stated then. “You’re adorable as a wolf, Becs.” But Wolf-Beca sighed and rested her head on her paws. “Or maybe not always adorable around that full moon, huh?” A little whimper sounded out and the wolf got up and paced around the cage for a moment. Then Chloe watched the process reverse itself with less fear this time, to leave a fully human Beca lying on the floor of the cage, arms wrapped around herself as she breathed erratically.

“Unnggghhh,” she groaned then as Chloe quickly opened the padlock and entered the cage to kneel next to her and pull her into her arms. The younger woman was trembling, and the redhead held her tightly. “Do you believe me now, Chlo?”

But all Chloe wanted to do was lean in and kiss her softly. “I’m not mad at you anymore,” she teased as their lips separated.

Tears suddenly welled in Beca’s eyes and Chloe held her even tighter. “I love you, Bec. I missed you so much.”

“Are... are we...” Hopeful dark-blue eyes gazed at her, and the redhead nodded.

“I want you to move back in with me, Becs, but I’m warning you. If you ever leave like...”

But Beca just cut her off with a kiss full of passion and adoration. “Never again, Chloe. I promise.”

[reavenedges-lies]

Jeez one thing I would hate to be on here is a full send bruins fan I go into the tag sometimes bc they’re fun but every single time I see someone who hates them shitting on the team and then tagging the bruins with it??? And then getting mad because bruins fans are like “hey don’t put this in our tag please” like I would haTE if someone did that to the Avs what the fuck

I have a lot of bruins fan mutuals, including a few new ones I've made within the last few weeks, and I've seen that and it's horrible. As a Yotes fan, I see a tonne of hate, but almost never on Tumblr in the Yotes tags. It's always in Asks, the tags on post of other teams or even worse off-handed in normal hockeyblr posts, as well as anywhere you look on twitter or reddit. B's fans don't deserve shit like that, they deserve to have their little corner of goalie love and a team that cherishes the time they have together. They deserve to be able to love their team full heartedly and with their chests out without dealing with salty fans of other teams.

So:

To my Bruins mutuals/followers ECT, I hope you can weed the haters out and if you cant i wish you a guilt free blocking spree.

To people who want to hate on the bruins, don't use their tags and censor/obscure the name as br/uins|Br*uins ECT to limit cross contamination

I'm sorry the toxic haters and or fans are always the loudest and may we all be kind to each other as this is just a sport

[darklordofthesimp]

oh FUCK your ninja just sold me

CAN WE BE MUTUALS PRETTY PRETTY PLEASEEE

Santa did NOT bring me anything this year (the old rascal) but I've been very good this year and did not impulse buy a bike. I 100% plan on getting one when I move back to CA though (currently in NY and I hate that there would be a 'bike' season and/or having my baby stolen in the streets of Manhattan?? blasphemy). Debating between the Ninja 400 or the Yamaha R3.

I have heard bikes can be v high maintenance since things go wrong with them often, is that true?

Regarding cars: I would love to mod my own but I don't have the experience nor the willingness to drop that money. For now though, I'm banking my godfather in CA will teach my drifting; he mods Miatas exclusively.

MORE PICS OF SNIPS PLS

IM SO SORRY I ANSWER MY ASKS EXACTLY LIKE HOW YOUD EXPECT SOMEONE WITH ADHD TO DO SO, IVE BEEN BOUNCING BACK AND FORTH BETWREN THE RECENT ASKS AND THE OLDER ASKS LIKE A CRAZY LADY.

we most definitely can be mutuals although I think I followed you already because your energy was giving me life.

YOUR GRANDPA MODS MIATAS?, THATS FUCKING SICK!

And what do you drive if you don't mind me asking? Mods can br done on literally anything and we respect all builds in this household so whatever it is I'm sure there's potential!

I can give you a Snips tour sometime if you'd like cos I haven't taken many photos of my lil baby

[hxdrostorms]

Est. 2023

𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 & 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 Mainly writes in English. Mas eu posso escrever em PT-Br, se preferir! PERMANENTLY LOW-ACTIVITY Follows back from Vanillahub Stuck with beta-editor + Xkit Rewritten Affiliates: Hades-Kami (Kanon), Acquarius-saint (Milo) Very selective and picky with crossovers! Sorry, I don't know a whole lot of other franchises outside of the ones I'm already RPing in! Mainly RPs on Discord, tumblr takes the backseat.

Credits: PSDs used on my header, icons and banners made by Jaynedits! Banner inspo

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠: Castlevania and Saint Seiya Promo (01/02) Interest checker (Mutuals & non mutuals can fill it out!) art used can be found here!

@ non RP blogs that stumble upon my posts: Hello there, I see you guys! I see that my posts are showing up in the characters’ main tags, as a result of the way I’ve made my tags in combination with how Tumblr’s search system now functions! Unfortunately, there isn’t anything I can do about it. While I don’t mind you guys seeing/liking the things I put out, or even following me for that matter. All I ask is for you to not reblog my posts, in fact, I’d much rather if you guys just straight up blocked me. Also for the love of everything, keep your rude messages to yourself, anything of that nature will be deleted on sight! I’m not here to waste my time on some mindless discourse, I’m not interested in hearing how much you disagree with my takes or how it diverges from the canon or the popular fanons.

I'm very much against the use of AI, in any shape or form in RP. Don't feed my writing/HCs to AI for the purpose of creating bots around them. I want NOTHING to do with people who use it, or create character bots. As it currently stands, this technology runs off scraping ppl's works, unethically and without any form of compensation for the rightful authors. If I find out you are somehow, feeding my things to create character bots. I will have no qualms in exposing your shit publicly.

**THIS IS A 20+ YEARS OLD BLOG** (due to a wide variety of subjects  that aren’t suitable for minors. IDC how close you’re to your birthday, you have to at least be 18 years old to follow my blogs). MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE SOFTBLOCKED, REFOLLOWING ME WILL LEAD INTO BLOCKING. I WILL ONLY WRITE WITH AND FOLLOW +20 y/o MUNS.

**This is mandatory**: You must have a rules page/doc/whatever. If you don’t have one set up, then I won’t even bother with your blog.

While Idc when ppl reblog musings/aesthetics/etc from me, the same can't be said about rp prompts. Kindly, don't reblog rp prompts from me without sending something back, first! I'll contact mutuals to not do that, but I have 0 tolerance when it comes to non-mutuals.

Here’s my threads tracker! (please consider supporting the dev’s work on patreon!)

[its-isabela]

Feeling sorry for my br mutuals that "lost" their accounts, but holy shit, I can't stand Twitter ESPECIALLY after muskrat bought it🙏 rest in pissssss

[santuxrio]

Previously - Hxdrostorms - it used to be my multifandom blog, but I decided to move all my Saint Seiya muses here

Originally Est. 2023

𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 & 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Mainly writes in English. Mas eu posso escrever em PT-Br, se preferir! PERMANENTLY LOW-ACTIVITY Follows back from Vanillahub Stuck with beta-editor + Xkit Rewritten Affiliates: Hades-Kami (Kanon), Acquarius-saint (Milo) Very selective and picky with crossovers! Sorry, I don't know & I'm not interested in a whole lot of other franchises outside of the ones I'm already RPing in! Mainly RPs on Discord, tumblr takes the backseat.

Credits: PSDs used on my header, icons and banners made by Jaynedits! Banner inspo

art used on pinned post can be found here!

@ non RP blogs that stumble upon my posts: Hello there, I see you guys! I see that my posts are showing up in the characters’ main tags, as a result of the way I’ve made my tags in combination with how Tumblr’s search system now functions! Unfortunately, there isn’t anything I can do about it. While I don’t mind you guys seeing/liking the things I put out, or even following me for that matter. All I ask is for you to not reblog my posts, in fact, I’d much rather if you guys just straight up blocked me. Also for the love of everything, keep your rude messages to yourself, anything of that nature will be deleted on sight! I’m not here to waste my time on some mindless discourse, I’m not interested in hearing how much you disagree with my takes or how it diverges from the canon or the popular fanons.

I'm very much against the use of AI, in any shape or form in RP.Don't feed my writing/HCs to AI for the purpose of creating bots around them. I want NOTHING to do with people who use it, or create character bots. As it currently stands, this technology runs off scraping ppl's works, unethically and without any form of compensation for the rightful authors. If I find out you are somehow, feeding my things to create character bots. I will have no qualms in exposing your shit publicly.

**THIS IS A 20+ YEARS OLD BLOG** (due to a wide variety of subjects  that aren’t suitable for minors. IDC how close you’re to your birthday, you have to at least be 18 years old to follow my blogs). MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE SOFTBLOCKED, REFOLLOWING ME WILL LEAD INTO BLOCKING. I WILL ONLY WRITE WITH AND FOLLOW +20 y/o MUNS.

**This is mandatory**: You must have a rules page/doc/whatever. If you don’t have one set up, then I won’t even bother with your blog.

While Idc when ppl reblog musings/aesthetics/etc from me, the same can't be said about rp prompts. Kindly, don't reblog rp prompts from me without sending something back, first! I'll contact mutuals to not do that, but I have 0 tolerance when it comes to non-mutuals.

Here’s my threads tracker! (please consider supporting the dev’s work on patreon!)