#to be clear. if your favorite generation is your first generation it's completely fine.

[ghostypetrainer]

crazy how segments of the Pokemon fandom will act like it's a crime for younger fans to like the first generation they played the best when people whose favorite generation of Pokemon are gens 1-5 purely because it's the first game they played don't get the same hassle. literally what is the difference.

[mell0wjello]

𝓒𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓲𝓽 𝓫𝓮?

How would the NRC boys fall for their beloved prefect?

! 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒾𝒶 𝐸𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 !

~~~~~~

𝓚𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓶 𝓐𝓵-𝓐𝓼𝓲𝓶

Kalim knew from the start

And he was not ashamed to show it. In fact, it was quite obvious to anyone who knew him

Kalim was generous to all, but the way he invested so much money into restoring Ramshackle dorm and always brought you small (and by no means cheap) gifts to you every time he invited you to Scarabia incited the suspicion of people around him.

Kalim's love language is gifting and quality time! Can you blame him?

Jamil was the first to know.

The night Kalim realized, he went up to Jamil's room and knocked on his door to tell him all about it

His favorite part of you is your smile.

He’d try to take you on carpet rides all the time, and he loved sharing his food with you

He even asked Jamil to teach him how to cook so he could prepare lots of things for you

He really admired how resilient and positive you were against all odds

He wouldn’t formally ask you out, it would be more of an unspoken thing. He’d give you all the signs but it’s up to you if you reciprocate them or not

He’d be veryyy respectful of your boundaries. He’d never force you into something you wouldn’t want

If you never reciprocated back, he would honestly be hurt and a little confused. He’s not very used to rejection, but give him some time. Since there was never anything concrete between you two besides friends, he wouldn’t stop talking to you. He would, however be more silent. He’d watch from afar, but always respect your choice

If you did reciprocate, he’d be ecstatic. You’d notice how he’d become more confident with his advances.

Lots of PDA (As long as you’re comfortable). Hugging, holding hands. Sometimes light kisses on the

He’d tell Jamil all about your dates, practically gushing to him

His favorite spot to kiss is your hand. Backside, frontside, it doesn’t matter to him. He likes how soft it feels against his lips.

His favorite spot to be kissed is on the cheek.

~~~~~~

𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵 𝓥𝓲𝓹𝓮𝓻

Unlike Kalim, Jamil had no idea what struck him

It started quite softly. Piqued interest in the prefect with soaring grades, despite their lack of magic • Next thing he knows, he’s at Ramshackle dorm, studying with them. Not that he needs a tutor, no, he made that clear. He just wanted to observe.

Now, you were in his kitchen, cooking dinner for Scarabia.

First, your dorm, then his kitchen, and now his thoughts. When did he let you get this close?

Jamil was reluctant at this realization, almost wary and cautious

He had let his guard down around you, and yet, a part of him was completely fine by it

He’d try so hard to put his walls back on, but you were just devoid of any animosity towards him, it was hard to conceal himself

He just couldn’t lie to you. For the first time, he could unravel himself in front of someone and feel safe

It clicked suddenly for him. The fuzzy feeling in his chest was something he was scared to admit

Nobody could really tell. Not even Kalim, although he did notice slight changes in Jamil

Jamils main love language is acts of service and physical touch

He often tries to involve this in his outings with you, for example, going out to buy ingredients from Sam's shop

Jamil is a jealous man, although this isn't very noticeable. No one can tell, but when another guy approaches you to ask for a pen in class (you are the only one who uses magicless pens at school), he is fuming in his head.

Jamil´s favorite part of you are the legs. He loves how elegant and graceful they look as you dance with him

Jamil isn't much of a risk-taker. He's calculating. He'd make sure that you too were on the same page as him before confessing to you. This would be done in an intimate setting, where the both of you are alone and secluded.

If things didn't go as planned for Jamil, he would reasonably be quite upset. Opening up was something he'd never done for anyone, and for that person to not feel the same as him was a harsh blow. He'd gradually grow distant from you afterward. It's his way of re-establishing the walls that you had torn down.

If you felt the same way about him, Jamil would be overjoyed. He'd embrace you in his arms and sigh with relief. The itching feeling at his throat was now gone. You were his, and he was yours.

All of his affection and display of physical touch would happen in private and often manifest into cuddling sessions or sometimes something more intimate.

His favorite spot to kiss you is on your ear. He enjoys knowing you can experience his kisses with two of your senses instead of one, and he even gets to see you flinch from time to time

His favorite spot to be kissed on is the neck. The position you take to reach that spot brings you closer to him and he enjoys feeling your warmth

~~~~~~

[euphorajeon]

'make it right' with jk for the 1k celebration pleeeaaaasssseeee 🫶

light of the morning

— request: jeongguk + make it right - bts

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, angst

— word count: 2.7k

— warnings/tags: idol!jk, college student!oc, mild angst, they're best friends, insecurities and self-doubt thoughts.

— summary: in the eternal night that seems endless, jeongguk finds his peace in the light of the morning.

— author's note: hi anon! thanks for requesting :) summary is obviously inspired by the lyrics of make it right, which i used as the general inspiration for the story. i hope it doesn't stray too far from what you had in mind, hehe. enjoy!

a continuation of opposite of sun. i suggest to read that first before reading this!

masterlist

‘Jeongguk Takes Over Times Square With a Surprise Performance’

‘Massive Crowd Gathers In Times Square for a Jeongguk Surprise Performance’

‘Jeongguk Surprises Times Square Crowd With a Free Concert’

It’s been a day since Jeongguk’s surprise performance at Times Square, and the media headlines praising his performance just keep flooding in. In the articles, there were no flaws in his performance. Impeccable. Perfect. The media especially highlighted the way his fans only got a 30-minute notice before the performance, yet they were able to fill up the streets of Times Square. They were loud, singing along to his songs word for word, and Jeongguk is so proud.

The praises didn’t only come from online articles, they also came from the radio hosts and interviewers who were lined up in Jeongguk’s schedule today. It’s refreshing to answer questions outside of the usual ‘What’s your favorite food to eat in the US?’ and about his surprise performance instead. Jeongguk is grateful that his manager, Namjoon, scheduled these interviews after the performance instead of before it.

“Do I have any more interviews for today?” Jeongguk asks Namjoon, peeking at the clock on his phone. It’s only a little after seven in the evening. He knows it’s a silly question to ask, already knowing the answer by the look on Namjoon’s face.

“You have two more, actually,” Namjoon answers regardless. “Plus taping for two songs for one of them. I thought you knew this already?”

“Uh, yeah, just making sure.” Jeongguk clears his throat, eyes still on his phone.

“You’ve been checking your phone a lot today. Something wrong?” Namjoon inquires, a worried look replacing the duh one he had on his face earlier.

“No. Everything’s okay.”

Yes, something is very wrong.

It’s been more than a day since he video-called you, a little over a day since his performance at Times Square, and little less than a day since he texted you the YouTube link of said performance. In that time frame, his phone is completely void of any notification from you. No texts, no calls, even no tweets or an Instagram DM. You’ve been totally silent and it’s starting to get on his nerves. Why are you leaving him in the dark?

“You sure? You look like you want to punch someone.”

What he wants is praise from you! No, he doesn’t want it, he needs it. All the flowery words from the media and radio hosts mean nothing if he hasn’t heard one from you. Ever since he started his singing career, your opinion has always been one of the first ones he seeks. Without it, he’s lost. Left wondering whether his performance deserved the accolades, or they were only for his pretty face.

“Jeongguk, we’re here. Put a mask on and smile. You can worry about your best friend later,” Namjoon says the moment the car comes to a stop in the parking lot of a building somewhere in New York. Jeongguk looks at him as he’s getting off the vehicle, confused. His manager throws him a small smile. “Don’t look like that, it’s kinda obvious you’re thinking about her.”

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday, hyung,” Jeongguk sighs. “I have the right to be worried.”

“You’re not the only one with stuff to do, you know? Maybe she’s busy too. I’m sure she’s fine,” Namjoon tries to reassure him. “Give her a call after this, to ease your mind.”

Namjoon is right. You’re probably busy juggling midterms and your part-time job back home. The chasm he felt yesterday opens back up, gaping to remind him that you two are worlds apart. Superstar Jeongguk who replies to texts in seven business days has no right demanding a reply from a regular college student after only one day.

Two more interviews. Two more songs to perform. Then he can hear your voice, see your face, and everything is going to be okay again.

Jeongguk finishes his schedule for the day a little after 1 AM. He tries to call you in the car, on the way back to his hotel. No answer. Tries again when he reaches his hotel room. Then tries again after he showered and changed into comfortable clothes to sleep in.

Ten missed calls.

Jeongguk goes to sleep with a dark cloud in his mind, completely restless.

In the morning, when the sun is already up—the way the moon is in Seoul, where you are—Jeongguk cracks his eyes open to stare at the ceiling in his room, his heart still heavy with worry. Also heavy is his head when he sits up on his huge hotel bed, likely due to his tossing and turning in his sleep all night. It doesn’t help that his lockscreen is still void of notifications labeled with your name. You’ve been MIA for almost two full days. Where are you?

He sends seven more bubbles in your chatroom, a sigh slipping past his lips when the tiny word under the blue bubble only reads delivered. He’s on his last thread of hope when he clicks on your contact picture to video call you, and that thread snaps when all he’s staring at on the screen is his own puffy and tired face.

Maybe he should order some breakfast. Get something to munch on, pry his mind away from the thought of you and what you’re up to in a country far, far away from where he is. He hopes you’re okay. He hopes you aced that midterm you were up until three to study for (although you spent the good part of the last hour talking to him on FaceTime). He hopes you’re eating well and not some instant cup ramyeon or shitty take-out from the Chinese place by your apartment that you frequent because it’s cheap.

After skimming through the room service menu, Jeongguk places an order of breakfast enough to feed five people. (What? He needs his energy. And a distraction.) The kind hotel staff who took his order informed him that his food will be ready in around 20 minutes. Good. Plenty of time to track his schedule for today and not think about you. (So much for a distraction.)

As it turns out, his itinerary for today is not packed with work schedule. Namjoon had only written ���Explore’ along with a note to bring the camera noona who usually follows Jeongguk around to film all of his adventures as an idol. Said “adventure” is typically limited to dressing rooms of music shows, though. Oh, maybe Namjoon wants him to stroll around the city and make a vlog out of it, give his fans a little peek of what he does in his down time in New York.

In order to do that, he has to shower, get dressed, and maybe get his makeup done. He definitely needs to get his hair done, though, there’s no way he’s going out with this bird nest atop his head. Or maybe he could go natural, let his hair breathe for the day. Namjoon said it makes him look like a college boyfriend, and apparently, his fans love the look. Throw some hoodie and jeans on, and Jeongguk would be ready to go to class with you.

Ah, you again.

His mindless scrolling on Twitter in procrastination halts, the words on his phone not registering as his mind goes back to you. What would it feel like to go to class with you? To watch your focused face in class, trying to absorb knowledge from the professor? To be there next to you, answer your question whenever you struggle to grasp a concept? To be your college boy—

A knock on his door interrupts his thoughts.

Jeongguk stills, waits for the shout of room service! to follow, but it never comes. The clock on his phone tells him it’s only been 10 minutes since he ordered breakfast, so maybe it’s not room service after all. Maybe it’s a staff member, coming to tell him to get ready for the day.

As Jeongguk makes his way to the door, come some more knocks, this time more tentative than the one prior. Before he could reach the door, the person on the other side speaks.

“Jeongguk..?” It sounds muffled by the door, but the voice rings familiar in his ears. It’s the voice he last heard almost two days ago, via a video call connection between New York and Seoul. Could it be? No, it couldn’t … right?

Jeongguk’s eyes are right in front of the peephole just as the voice sounds again: “It’s me, Bun…”

There, in front of his hotel door, stands a girl 15 centimeters shorter than him, dressed in black jeans and her favorite sage green sweater, with a lump of black fabric hanging off her left arm. A faded black baseball cap sits on her head, so faded it looks almost navy. When she finally looks up to peek at the peephole, Jeongguk loses his breath.

It’s you. It’s really you.

Jeongguk is so stunned that he’s frozen in place, just staring at your confused expression that slowly morphs into one of anxiety.

“Did Namjoon give me the wrong room number..?” you mumble, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

Jeongguk has never yanked a door open that hard in his life.

You tear your eyes away from your phone, jumping in surprise at the sudden movement. His eyes lock with yours, and the shock on your face melts into a smile.

“Hi!”

You’re obviously exhausted, having just got off a 14-hour flight from Seoul, moving 13 timezones backward, seeing the sun when you’re supposed to see the moon. But the way you beam at him is full of glee, your eyes bright despite the obvious fatigue. Jeongguk is mesmerized.

Wordlessly, he reaches for your shoulders to pull you into a hug. They feel more prominent than the last time he hugged you, and he doesn’t know whether it’s from your haphazard eating schedule or just … time. He doesn’t remember when he last gave you a hug. Doesn’t remember the last time he saw you in the flesh like this.

“You just woke up, didn’t you?” you say from somewhere near his collarbone.

“Maybe,” Jeongguk mumbles. “Maybe not. I feel like I’m still dreaming.”

“Up in the clouds, are we?” you chuckle. “Well, if you’re done dreaming then maybe we could come in? Backpack’s starting to hurt my shoulders.”

It’s right at that second that Jeongguk just realizes the huge backpack hanging off your small frame. The poor bag is bursting at the seams, like it’s gonna comically explode if you even try to unzip it. Jeongguk closes his fingers around the small handle on top, testing the weight.

“Did you fit your whole life into this? Why is it so heavy?” he complains, immediately untangling your arms from his body so he can slide the backpack off you and onto him instead. “I feel like I’m about to do the 20 kilometers march in the military.”

“Hah! Try navigating JFK with that on your shoulders. It’s way harder than the military,” you huff, following Jeongguk into his hotel room.

He sets your backpack down on one of the couches, turning around to get answers to a thousand questions in his head, but pauses when he sees you’re still standing by the door. Your eyes are scanning the room slowly, stopping at Jeongguk to look at him with an unreadable expression on your face.

“What?” Jeongguk says.

“It’s huge,” you say. “The room, I mean. They usually are in your vlogs, but it’s different seeing it in person.”

This could turn into another conversation about their differences quickly, but Jeongguk is not in the mood to deal with distance today. For once, you’re an arms-length away from him. He doesn’t want to fuck this up and send you back to KST, 13 timezones away.

“Eh, I think your backpack is bigger.” He shrugs. Safe route, for now. “What do you have inside that bag, really?”

“My brick ass laptop, thank you,” you say sarcastically, finally going deeper into the room just to give your backpack a protective hug. “Still have a midterm to finish and submit here.”

“You still have midterms and you’re here in New York?” Jeongguk gapes. “Why?”

“Because you asked me to be here,” you state like it’s obvious. “Well, not like that, but you looked so sad on our last video call that I booked a flight here as soon as we hung up the call. Didn’t really realize the weight of it until I was watching your performance with Yeseo and I blurted out that I bought a ticket to New York and how maybe it was a stupid thing to do on a whim like that. She looked at me like I was stupid and said I should totally go. So. Here I am.”

If selective hearing is a sin, then Jeongguk would be guilty because he heard nothing beyond the part where you said you were watching his performance.

“You watched my performance?” He parrots his thoughts. “But you said you would have been asleep…”

“No sleep is worth my best friend’s sadness.” You throw him a small smile. “Actually, Yeseo set an alarm for it. And then I went to have the midterm with a terrible headache because I didn’t get enough sleep. But it’s worth it, the performance was amazing. You did great on that stage.”

“I did great…?”

At this point, Jeon Jeongguk should change his name to Parrot Jeongguk, because all he ever does is just repeat things he heard. First his thoughts, now you.

“Yes, of course you did great, Jeongguk. Wasn’t it obvious, the way your fans were screaming their lungs out for you?”

I only wanted to hear it from you, Jeongguk thinks. The media headlines and praises from the radio hosts and interviewers flash in his mind, all positive feedback for his performance, yet still planted a seed of doubt in his mind. It caused an ugly darkness to settle in his mind, one that worsened with every call you didn’t pick up.

“Why’d you ghost me, then?”

Way to ruin this moment, Jeon Jeongguk.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry. Between catching up on sleep and rushing for the flight, I just didn’t have the time to look at my phone at all. Also, I was on the plane? It takes a long time to get here from Korea if you didn’t know.”

“So it’s not because my performance is bad?”

You get up from your position on the couch to grip him on the shoulders, your nails digging into the material of his t-shirt. You have to strain your neck to be able to look him in the eyes, but you hold his gaze firmly like the position doesn’t hurt you at all.

“Jeon Jeongguk, listen to me. Your performance was great, you looked handsome, your singing was on-point, your high note was awesome, your dancing was super cool, and the crowd was really loud. I don’t know what kind of validation you seek, but I personally think everything about your performance was perfect.”

Yours. I only want your validation.

Slowly, the darkness in his mind begins to disperse, replaced by this warm beam of light piercing through the clouds. It settles in his mind like a blanket, protecting him from any more bad thoughts. He thinks it’s because of you, bringing light wherever you go. Can that light be shared with him? Will he glow from the inside out if he connects his lips with yours? Why does he want to lock lips with you?

“Jeongguk, are you okay? You look like you’re floating in the clouds again.”

Yeah. No. I want to press my lips against yours. Can I?

Three knocks sound from the door. And then: room service!

Jeongguk clears his throat (and his mind along with it.)

“Do you want to explore New York with me after we have breakfast?”

Jeongguk might want more, and he might be ready to admit it. After all, the light to his darkness is here. If not now, then when?

“Sure, it’ll be a fun best friend adventure!”

…maybe some other time.

a/n: thank you for reading! i'm planning to have a part 3 of this but let's see if i can actually find the time to write it ahah

[romeosharpae]

“FOUR MONTHS”

theodore nott x reader

(Yes after one year I'm back with toxic Theodore Nott). You don't have to read part one..

Warnings; Possessive behavior, manipulation, toxic relationships, mentions of obsession, mature sex scenes, unprotected sex, rough sex, swearing, smoking, degradation (Not a lot), theodore nott × female feader, toxic! theodore nott

parts: 1,

There was something in the air this morning, a soothing feeling that made you a little more peppy. So as you skipped to the great hall, books clutched tightly to your chest, a small smile couldn’t help but to be on your lips.

It was the winter — your favorite season, so perhaps that was the reason for your sudden happiness this morning. You’d even wore a little grin through transfiguration, your least favorite class at Hogwarts.

But you were a happy girl generally, nice to everyone who crossed your path. You helped little first years avoid experiencing the wrath of Draco Malfoy. You also helped professors (For sure not Mcgonagal) help clean up after compliance lessons.

That’s just who you are.

“You look pretty today,” Is what Hermione Granger, your best friend, greets you with as you took a seat aside her. No you weren’t a Gryffindor — but you often found yourself sitting at the orange and red more than your own.

“Yeah, I like what you’ve done to your hair.” Harry Potter lowly added in with a sly smile, and you simply reflected it. Ron Weasley, who was aside Hermione let out a little snort in response to his best friend’s attempt to flirt.

Harry Potter – the boy who lived, the boy who everyone without any sort of spite or jealousy in their body adores. Sometimes you even found yourself admiring him — considering him as a form of replacement from your last fling.

“Thank you both,” You giggled,

“Well, I’m happy that your happy, Y/L/N” Hermione declared with a smile, “You see how much happier you are now? Compared to when you allowed that psycho to contr--"

And just like that, there was a damper in your happy mood.

Hermione always made extremely bold comments about your previous unhealthy relationship with Theodore Nott; Which is probably why he hated the fact you two were friends, not because she was a muggle. Truthfully, she’s the one that hyped you up to end things with him — but as you more think of it, she forced you too.

Because despite everything the tall raging brunette put you through, you still found your self right underneath him with a dizzy smile. But that hasn’t happened in four months, not since the day he dragged you out of the party. Shivers roll down your spin as you remember the events that happened that day,

You’ve got fourth months with his touch, without his complications.

And despite missing Theodore some nights, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a breath of fresh air. Like the air didn’t feel lighter without him breathing down your neck about showing any other male besides him attention – without him declaring that despite his lack of commit now, you’ll be baring his children later.

You recall how hearing those words made you feel months ago — Well, it did make you finish, but that’s completely besides the point — it finally made you realize that Theodore Not didn’t actually love you.

And neither did he want anyone else too.

Not because he loved you, but because had a unhinged obsession for you. The more you thought of it, the more you realized how clear Theo’s behavior displayed fixation.

How did you not realize it back in first year when he got seriously angry with Blaise Zabini for trying to be your friend?

It makes your stomach twist to think that you and Theodore's friendship was build off of an obsession – one that clearly grew worse as the years progressed.

"You alright over there, Y/L/N?" Ron questioned reluctantly,

You pulled yourself out of your thoughts, turning to him with a small awkward smile across your lips, "Yes I'm fine, just got a little distracted, that's all."

"You always seem to suddenly get distracted when I bring up Nott." Hermione mumble, rolling her eyes. Because you're always telling me to leave him.

Is what you wanted to say, but instead you settle for a simple shrug.

You were sitting criss-cross on an knitted blanket in front of the black lake, skimming over the newest daily prophet in your hands. The full moon reflected softly against the lake water, making you awe.

Everytime a full moon lit the sky your found yourself out here, enjoying the peace. And no one knew about it — you weren't a prefect and your house leader would kill you if they found out you were out here past hours.

Well, you thought no one knew about your secret adventures to the black lake.

It was not until the loud familiar scent of smoke filled your nostrils that you understood that someone was here also. And with the heavy cologne that mixed with it, you didn't have to look back to know who it was.

"Leave. Me. Alone" You growled sternly, ignoring the thudding in your heart.

Of course you'd still hang with Blaise and Pasny every now and then. But when Theo walked in you immediately flee, knowing that being around him would result with him being inside of you in moments.

And your sure he knew that, which is exactly why the brunette is here. "So you don't think I've done that enough for the past four fucking months, Y/N?"

Venom dripped from Theodore's voice, and had you not been so used to Theodore being upset with the stuff you do — The coldness of his tone would have made you scared enough to jump away from him.

Your head snapped back in his direction, generally you were a nice happy girl. But during the times you weren't so sweet, it was Theodore Nott who got that wrath.

Who brought out that side of you.

"No, No." Theo's jaw clenched at your harsh words, lips parting slightly to allow smoke to slip past them. "Because I want you to leave me alone for the rest of my life."

"Did Granger help you come up with that?" Theodore snickered. There wasn't a actual thought in your brain when you rolled your daily prophet and launched it in his direction. He kissed it teeth when the parchment landed softly on his cheek.

The brunette takes another hit short of his cigarette, not giving your outburst a reaction. You stand up to your feet, preparing to collect your stuff and go back on school grounds.

He threw the cigarette on the ground, approaching you. You take a step back, not wanting to feel his touch — the touch that you have been craving for four months.

“Why does everyone get the sweet little Y/N except for me?" He cooed, eyebrows raising.

"What did I do to deserve this nasty side of you Y/L/N, huh?" Everything. "Did I not fuck you good enough last time?"

"You know it is not about that!" You defensively shouted out. Tears began pricking at the corner of your eyes, processing that the only thing you are to him is a fuck. "--You know that it's never been about that!"

You had like Theodore since third year, immediately awed with the matured boy that he became over the summer. And Theo knew your feelings for him — in fact, you told Theo about your feelings right before you had sex for the first time — he just didn't care.

He stared down at you, beautiful eyes glistening underneath the moon light. For a moment you swear you see pity flash in his eyes.. or maybe regret?

It makes you frown — You didn't want Theodore to pity you. It made you feel weak, always finding yourself with him when your in your weakness moments. Because despite his blunt toxic behavior, before your separation, Theodore always is there when you fail a test you study hard for or had complications with your family – He's the shoulder that you lean on, and the root of your problems.

“I miss you"

Something about those words fueled your feelings more, anger bubbling higher. "No you don't Theodore, you miss having me wrapped around your finger."

That regret.. or pity fades away quickly, replaced with anger in seconds.

“Do you even know how many girls I have wrapped around my finger, Y/N?" His mean tone makes you let a small sob. "How many girls wish upon stars that I had the feelings for them that I do you?!" Theodore takes this moment to grab your chin, yanking you closer to him before you got a chance to stop him. He hovers over you, fingers digging into the flesh of your skin. Blue eyes looking down at you like your prey he's prepared to fight for.

“You don't really care about me!"

"Shut up." He growled.

His mouth attacks yours in a feral manner, making you gasp loudly. The faint taste of his chapstick spreads is in your mouth,

And being that naive girl you are, you welcomed his lips eagerly. The hairs of your skin stood up fully, mind becoming foggy while Theodore desperately slides his tongue into your mouth. It makes you sob out louder, tears slipping from your eyes.

Hermione would be so mad if she knew how easily you allowed him in — The lack of fight that you put up with Theo. But you tried, you really did for four entire months..

You really tried your best too stay away from the boy that you loved so deeply.

“I--T--" Is what you choked out moments before Theodore hand slides to the back of your throat, making the kiss much deeper and tongue sloppier. Your noses were smushed against each other — there was nothing you could make out but his scent.

You didn't exactly get to register when it happened or how it happened. But someway, probably with magic, you ended underneath Theodore on your blanket.

Without wasting another second Theodore hooks his finger into the waist band of your shorts and underwear. "Why is things always so complicated with you?"

His words were harsh and the glare on his beautifully structured pale face makes you cry out even harder. The pad of his thumb catches one of your tears when it falls,

“Y/N Why can't you understand that this is perfect?" He wondered bluntly. His eyes look down at your exposed area, "That this is where you should be, with me."

“No--No I shouldn't--" You shouted, Theo grabbed your legs and spread them as far as they could go. "-- Your no good for me"

That makes the brunette scoff defensively – surely thinking that Hermione fed you that. But you knew it was true – If you stuck beside Theodore, you'd be mental by thirty.

A loud gasp fell from your lips when Theo pushed himself into you without any warning. Theirs something in your body that became at ease with the familiar stretch,

As if it been begging for it.

Not giving you a chance to prepare yourself, Theodore bottomed out in you. He groaned loudly as you flutter against him, practically welcoming him in you.

Theo begins snapping his hips forward at a pace that makes your eyes squeeze shut. You wish that you could hate him,

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter.." He finally responded to your comment. The loose curls of his hair brushed against your forehead as Theo leaned down, lips grazing softly against yours. A high pitched whimper left your lips at every thrust he gave you, an hot pain spreading inside in your lower half. Yet you couldn't stop your hips from jumping up, begging for more. “I'm good right now, aren't I?" He mocked,

His tongue invaded your mouth, like he's attempting to swallow your face whole. You kissed back instantly, tongue lapping over his as you both moaned.

Some moments you wished to know what Theodore was thinking when the two of you were together — and other times you didn't, not actually wanting to be right about his lack of love towards you.

His mouth left yours, spit following suit. Instead he began sucking on the skin of your new and chest, leaving bruises. "Mine." Theo growled, squeezing your breast.

You just shook your head frantically at his possessive words, not being able to form a literal disagreement. You weren't Theodore’s.. and unfortunately he wasn't yours.

He squeezed you harder, thrust forming a harsher pace as well, knocking the wind out your chest and making you gasp.

Tears slipped from your eyes from the pleasure, and your fingers began scratching against his arms. If your mind hadn't been so fogged out, you'd be embarrassed from how fast your release caught up.

“Say you won't leave again..." Theo spoke words were stone cold and you tried ignoring them — knowing that you planned on going back into hiding from him.

His cold hand snakes up around your neck, giving it a tight squeeze that makes you squeal. Your sure he notices that your avoiding his request and perhaps that's why his hips began to move at a slower pace – But you really had not expected him to completely stop,

The was absolutely no way he was going to leave you on edge like that. As your eyes flew open you sobbed out, Theodore wore a plain expression. His light eyes were already looking directly into yours,

You attempted to take matters into your own hands by beginning to slip up his length. But Theodore, who clearly wasn't having none of it, pushed you away by your stomach, pulling out of you completely now.

"Say it, Y/N!" He slightly shook you, "Or I swear I'll leave you like this-- Say it--"

"I--I'm not gonna leave!" The words left unexpectedly from your lips. And you really wish you could say you only said it to get your release but that wouldn’t be true. “..Ever again"

Theodore smiled widely at your words, pressing his face against your neck. And you both let out a loud sigh of comfort when he slid back inside of you,

You don't even know how you lasted four months without him.

Part three>>>

[stuckwthem]

in the world of boys, he's a gentleman. | enzo v. (eng version)

summary: after watching you waste your time with other dudes, your best friend has some things to confess to you. pure fluff. a bit of angst.

you never thought riding in a dress on a bike would be such an exciting experience, but there you were, clinging to enzo's body and trying to keep your balance on the back of his bike while laughing like crazy. 

to contextualize it, enzo had been your best friend for some time, ever since enzo had rented a room in your apartment two years, so living together inevitably turned into a genuine friendship. from time to time, your best friend and roommate was also your superhero. whether it was reading your mind when you were starving and didn't want to cook, or always coming home with your favorite sweets, or saving you from ambushes.

when your messages came on enzo's cell phone earlier, complaining about a date that was going from bad to worse with a slightly arrogant guy, he didn't hesitate to get up and hop on his bike to pick you up. the very idea of imagining you on a date with a horrible guy, and worse, a guy who wasn't him, made him nervous, so now you were in this highly unlikely but completely comical situation. he hadn't given you a choice.

"i can't believe i did that," you said, bursting out laughing, which enzo reciprocated by shaking his head. "imagine his face when he comes back to the table!".

"i'm so sorry for him", replies enzo with irony and a smile that indicates that no, he doesn't regret that he stole you from that douchebag.

"i bet you do" leaning your head on the brunet's back, you replied in the same tone. his body is warm and a little sweaty, but his scent is good and familiar.

enzo was riding the bike down the street, while you held on by wrapping your arms around his waist, the night breeze enveloping you. silence fell for a moment before you decided to break it.

"enzo, seriously, you didn't have to do that. it was going to be fine. it was going to last a few more minutes."

he chuckled, shooting you a corner glance. "well, judging by your desperation in the messages, i'd say 'fine' is a pretty generous word."

you snorted, feigning indignation. "i was dramatizing it a bit, you see."

"i know, i know. but honestly, i couldn't let my friend spend a horrible night with some idiot guy. after all, who else is going to put up with my stupid jokes?"

"oh, is that what i'm here for, a mate who'll put up with your jokes?"

enzo smiled, amused. "among other things, sure. but seriously, i wasn't going to let a guy get away with it one more time."

she rolled her eyes as if offended, but couldn't hold back a smile.

"where do you want to go?" she asked suddenly, leaving you a little confused.

"i thought we were going home," you shrugged.

"i can't let you go home so dressed up without having had a decent date!" enzo exclaims, turning his head slightly, allowing you to see his indignant expression.

you process what he just said and feel your heart skip a beat. he was either guessing things or....

"so we're going on a date?" is your automatic retort, and then, trying to disguise, you clear your throat, worried that you're reading the wrong lines.

maybe, in addition to roommate, best friend and occasional superhero, enzo was also a little crush of yours. one that you had tried to forget through terrible dates that always sent you back to square one: enzo. enzo, who bought you your favorite ice cream when you got your ass kicked when you first met, even though you never talked to him directly about your favorite flavor. enzo, who always waited for you at home with a movie session and a warm blanket. enzo, who always listened to everything you said. enzo, who was your weak point.

"if you want to call it that, we'll have a date, yes," he says, and involuntarily your hands tighten around his waist. 

after a few minutes pedaling through the quiet streets, you realize the familiar, everyday route. maybe enzo has changed his mind. you really were on your way home and all your expectations had fallen apart. until, slowly, he stops, and the next thing you know, you're in front of a corner pizzeria. the same new pizzeria that had opened a few days ago near your house and the one you kept telling enzo about.

"pizza?" he asks as if waiting for your approval."

enzo holds out his hand for you to get off the bike and he follows you right away. it's funny how you contrast, while the older guy is wearing casual and simple clothes, you're dressed up in that stupid dress. inside your head, you curse the moment you agreed to go out with that idiot from before. he really didn't deserve all your prep, but enzo, wow. he really seemed to study every part of you and admire every aspect of you. from the most innocent way that some loose strands of your messy bun framed your face to the most indecent way he noticed how beautiful your legs looked in that tight dress. 

the two of you had to sit outside, as it was crowded inside, and when you sat down at the small sidewalk table across from enzo, your best friend let out a long sigh as he stared at you. a sigh that said: finally. 

"but to be honest with you now, you don't know what a relief it was to see you out of that restaurant," you confessed, with a light, hearty laugh.

"was the mood that bad?" the boy asked with an incredulous expression.

"there was just no mood! the guy went on and on about the life lessons he learned when his dad stopped giving him money for a month, or how i shouldn't feel special if he took me to his apartment after dinner. and we had just arrived!" you exclaimed in amazement at enzo, who suddenly looked serious. too serious. "he hasn't asked me a single question in 45 minutes!".

"what an asshole!" the brunet muttered, rolling his eyes. enzo's gaze turned away from you for a moment, following his own hand as he fiddled with the sauces and plucked pieces of napkin off the table. "why do you keep hanging out with guys like that?"

he asked, still not looking at you, and suddenly your blood boiled, rushing to your head. you took a deep breath, feeling a pang of disappointment hit your chest, not believing what enzo had just said. 

"are you implying that it's my fault? i'm responsible for men being totally selfish and..." you close your eyes, involuntarily placing your hand against your own chest. indignantly.

"no! that's not what i meant, my love." enzo lifted his head quickly, meeting your gaze, hurt and betrayed. 

he felt like a complete idiot, desperate at the way you were looking at him, not quite sure how to back down. he stood up straight in his chair, leaning over the table to reach for your hand, ready to defend himself when a waiter stopped right next to him.

"good evening, lovebirds! what can i get you?" the man asked, his tone friendly and cheerful, in contrast to the flaring tempers at the table.

you laughed wryly at the waiter's confusion, a regular occurrence whenever you went out together, and folded your arms, turning away from enzo.

"ahm, hello," he scratched the back of his head in bewilderment, and then realized he hadn't even looked at the menu. he fumbled over the pages, didn't know what to order, and suddenly looked lost.

"two pieces of marguerita, vegan option, please," you said, straightening up. "and a coke, with lemon, for him."

enzo looks at you anxiously as the man takes your order, his leg dangling under the table, brushing against yours unaware. the contact makes your whole body shudder, but you still don't look at him. the waiter leaves the table and announces that he'll serve you shortly.

"look, i'm not saying it's your fault. not at all, chiquita," he says, his voice low and his tone worried. you look at your nails, pretending to be indifferent. a little dramatic. 

enzo sighs and brings his knee to yours. you squint, indifferent, while he moistens his lips as if trying to find the words on the tip of his tongue. 

"i'm trying to tell you that you deserve better than these guys. you know it, i know it." the way he conducts what he says is slow and careful, he continues. "you deserve someone who really appreciates you, who sees all the amazing things i see in you. these dudes you go out with clearly don't see the amazing person in front of them and completely miss the opportunity to meet the best person they could ever have in life."

your eyes automatically rise as you hear what he says, and your lungs don't seem to perform their routine action. your lip trembles nervously. tears gather at the corners of your eyes, because you have to tell yourself that you're only saying that because you want his good, because that's what a best friend would say. and you have to wrestle with all those words before you go to sleep, swallowing all your feelings.

"you know, you're kind, incredibly smart, even if you still think you can beat me playing mortal kombat by pushing all the buttons at once." enzo continues, softening his lecture, making her laugh under her breath. "you're funny, talented, real. cute."

unable to resist any longer, you meet the brunette's gaze again, who gives you a small smile as he notices you slowly give in.

"not to mention your patience, especially when i decide to cook and leave the kitchen as a battlefield." 

this time you can't contain the smile that spreads across your face, remembering the last time enzo had tried to prepare food. really, a denial for cooking. 

"as a cook, you're a great actor," you mutter, which makes enzo chuckle and take advantage of the space you're leaving him.

"and when you have those creative bursts, writing or creating your own recipes. it's fascinating to see your mind in action, and i always wonder how someone can be so.... unique. how you light up wherever you go, how you make things seem so much easier when you're around and...".  

enzo seems to be in the middle of a great discovery. he laughs to himself, shaking his head, as if he regrets having said all that and his eyebrows rise, almost in a gesture of desperation.

"got it," you say, a little sheepishly. your cheeks heat up and you suddenly feel like a teenager.

"anyway, i guess what i'm trying to say is that you're an extremely lovely person." enzo seems to relent, and his body softens in the chair. "and anyone who doesn't see that doesn't deserve to be with you."

his breath comes out as if someone has just punched him in the stomach. your hands run across the table, seeking his, which grasp your fingers gently. you say nothing for a long moment, during which the waiter returns and serves you in complete silence. 

his confession gives the atmosphere another kind of tension. before you could respond, enzo averted his gaze, as if trying to escape the intensity of the situation.

"you know what? forget what i said. let's enjoy dinner and forget i said all that. what am i? shakespeare? don juan?" he joked, trying to lighten the situation by gesticulating exaggeratedly. he takes a sip of his coke, disguising his desperation.

"enzo," his name on your lips comes out as a plea. everything hits you at once. the awareness of his feelings, the awareness of yours. he shakes his head negatively and lets go of your hand.

"it's okay, you don't have to try to comfort me and tell me we're friends, i know. i've accepted it." enzo rushes over, running his hands through his hair, nervous.

"enzo," you tell him, firmer now. "why didn't you tell me before? why didn't you take me on a date before?".

he seems to be choking on his own breath, his nostrils flaring and his chest rising and falling rapidly. enzo looks at you with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. his eyes search yours, as if trying to read your expression and understand if those words were real. how can someone know you so well and not have a fucking clue?

"because i... i didn't know how. it was always easier to be your friend. to stay in the comfort of not risking too much. not to feel the rejection. taking you on a date seemed to cross some invisible line, and i was afraid of messing it all up". 

he hid his face in his hands, laughing to himself. enzo looked on the verge of collapse, frightened. you had never seen him like this. you quickly got up, sitting down in the chair next to him, quietly touching his wrists.

"how stupid you are," you state, laughing. he looks at you with an offended and confused expression. "you really haven't noticed all this time?".

your best friend's face fills with something akin to expectation and dread. expecting the fatal blow at any moment.

"wait, you mean... that you..." he starts to stammer, but you interrupt him with a smile.

"yes, enzo. me too" your confession makes his face light up and then he blushes. was he really 30 years old? because you were making him feel like a kid.

"i never thought..." he murmurs, and you complete the sentence.

"that i could feel the same way? well, now you know. it was obvious." you laugh, moving a little closer to him. "how could i not fall in love with you?".

enzo feels your whisper on his lips, sending shivers down his spine. your warm breath mingles with his, uncertainty hovering between the two of you, unfamiliar territory to traverse. enzo's gaze examines your face, searching for any trace of indecision, but he doesn't find it, and then his eyes drop to your mouth.

"if only you'd let me show you all this sooner," he whispers too, as one of his hands, large and warm, rests on her thigh, under the thin fabric of her dress, and the other rests behind the back of her chair.

"you still have time" 

and with your confession, it's as if he loses control. his pupils, darker and dilated now, are the last thing you see before you feel soft lips against yours. your breath is suddenly cut off and a shock runs through your body, shutting down your entire nervous system for milliseconds. he kisses you eagerly, as if making up for all the other opportunities he'd missed. the hand behind your shoulder moves quickly to the back of your neck and a gasp escapes you. his mouth tastes sweet, like cola and lemon mixed with his own flavor.

enzo can barely contain himself, the rest of the world ceases to exist when your tongue passes over his lips, as if asking for permission, and he almost rolls his eyes at the sensation. god, how he had dreamed of that. he had replayed it in his mind a million times and then blamed himself for it. he shook off the thoughts when he felt your fingers run over his scalp, while your other hand gently stroked his cheek. as if a tornado of emotions wasn't going on inside him at that moment. everything that had happened so far made this moment worth it. 

after almost five minutes, the real world seems to return, as does the need for oxygen, useless, in enzo's perception. the sounds of the street echo in his ears again, everything slowly makes sense again. the world stops spinning as you look at each other with wide, goofy smiles on your faces. you bring your finger to the corner of enzo's lips, carefully wiping away the traces of lipstick. it makes him want to ruin the rest that remains on your beautifully delineated lips.

"so, what do we do now?" you ask, still a little limp, trying not to laugh. the feeling of kissing your best friend, something that had crossed your mind a million times before, seemed far away. in fact, it was something much better than you could have dreamed of.

"i suppose we could start with a first date," enzo suggests, feigning some nonchalance, shaking his shoulders. his fingers wander over your face, brushing aside a few strands of hair over your eyes. it's so sweet and peaceful that you want to treasure just that moment among all the others.

for the rest of the night, you eat that cold pizza like it's the best you've ever eaten. the rest of the dinner goes naturally, lightly, with kisses and sighs, conversations and confessions, like everything you needed. like everything was finally in place. a millennial alignment. it was so easy to be there, next to him, no need for masks or disguises, to be in front of him was to be able to see yourself from the inside out. without hiding anything, without any desire to run away. completely immersed in each other. it was like dreaming half awake. it was just perfect.

there were uncertainties, saved for the distant future, it was terrifying to lose that connection you had. but maybe it wasn't the right way, maybe it was unforeseen and completely chaotic, but it was the best and last first date of your life.

for my girlies who asked me to translate it, i hope you enjoyed <3

[oinkinpigprince]

My friends(hostages) and I (tied them down and forced them to) watched the Texas chainsaw massacre one and two(I held them at gun point and kept wiggling happily) and I had silly little thoughts about my favorite little spleens :33(I love them so much it physically hurts)

I bet playing hide and seek w/ them would be a special kind of fun! Ik I have a lot of request for smiling friends and I pinky promise to get them done rlly soon this is just a little self indulgence

Hide and seek with the sawyer family!!!!!! Yeah!!!

Bubba

They are so bad at it, it hurts. Listen, they are so big and bulky and too excited to play, they can’t hide anywhere and they aren’t that creative.

Cabinets are a no go, under the bed is laughable, I think they’d be the type to try and hide under a bunch of stuffies

They’re most likely to be hiding in closets and maybe the bathroom, probably behind the couch is a good place to look

Although you can easily find them cause if he sees or hears you getting closer they might start to giggle, it’s just so much fun!!!!

But when you do find them, the chase is fucking on. They may not look it but they are quick, bubba just has a hard time rounding corners quickly so that’s where they have trouble :((

When you do finally tag them, they’ll squeal and grab you, spinning you around. THAT WAS SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!! You two may get told off but it’s worth it

Bubba finding you is a pretty similar story. They are very observant but they’re still pretty giggly. Also with their loud ass stomps you can hear them coming and quickly change spots

When they do find you, oh fuck it’s over, doesn’t even think just quickly grabs you and hugs you tight. THEY WON!! It’s a lot of fun but low key scary when you can hear their foot steps approaching.

Nubbins

Loudest person you’ve ever met, how hard could it be? Once that game starts and you finish counting that boy is GONE

Although nubbins is pretty tall at a generous 6’2 he is skinny and loves small spaces so he quickly finds the smallish space he can cram himself in

A space you’d never think of looking and he is silent, it’s like he disappeared off the face of the fucking earth. He’s happy too, he doesn’t get bored which is surprising.

Nubbins will just lay there happily day dreaming til someone else unintentionally finds him and he cusses them out. Then you find him

Nubbins doesn’t care for the chase as much as the hiding so you easily tag him, he just can’t wait to find you :o))))))

You can also hear nubbins, but his is more, taunting. He likes to pretend he’s hunting you, and oh boy, it feels like he’s threatening you. You can hear him from the hall “heeeeeere kitty kitty k-kitty kitty kitty, where are you?” Your blood runs cold

Sitting in your hiding space steadying your breathing praying he doesn’t find you, there no hell you’d be able to out run a man who spends all day racing cars to scrap dead animal corpses off hot pavement!

When it goes quiet and you think you’re in the clear. You peak out and don’t see anything, so you swallow your fear and quickly stalk out to go and change hiding spaces. Then BAM!! He got you! Ha! You should see your space

He howls as you scream curling his body around yours, he eats up your terrified screams. He just hugs you tight and lays on the ground as you squirm trying to get away, he’ll pepper the side of your face with kisses as he pinches your cheeks. You’re so cute when you’re scared!

Choptop

Oh Robby rob, oh dear Robert bobert, you asked him to play hide and seek, for fun! What’s the harm that could happen! You know this man a little eccentric, but you had zero clue what you got yourself into. Playing hide and seek, with a VIETNAM war vet

He agrees, excited as fuck. Never have you seen him agree so quickly to something. Before you finish saying the words he’s making you count to ten.

First round goes fine, it’s completely normal and not weird. He hit under a bed and then chased you around the house when he found you. Fun!

Next round, you looked around giddily, looking where trying to find him. You searched the whole house trying to find that man for 20 minutes. That’s when you stood in the living room and felt, something went drip onto your forehead. You looked up, HE WAS ON THE FUCKING CEILING AND HE SPAT ON YOU!!!

Laughed as you tried to tag him, taunting you and spat on you some more until you got a step stool and he just dropped, landed on all fours and scrambled away faster than god

You had to have nubbins AND bubba help you catch him. That man was unstoppable. He only relented after a while cause he wanted to have his turn seeking.

Waiting patiently for footsteps and you heard none. You figured maybe he was at the other side of the house. That’s when you glanced slightly and saw, a glimpse of a smiling man in your peripheral. Two inches away from your face.

Screaming you dashed for the exit with him hot on your trail. Chop was toying with you the entire time. Laughing, he was always just behind you. He could have caught you easily but just wanted to see you run from him

Have you seen where he was chasing stretch and he just leaped onto the bridge and climbed on. Yeah he did that to you, that man was not messing around

As soon as it started it ended with you cornered and panting, he didn’t even break a sweat. He just gently pats your face and says “got ya!” Before shouting ‘nam worl’ loudly and cheering.

He’s the whole reason I made these head canons, I don’t want to play hide and seek w/ him

Drayton

The biggest fucking party pooper. Every time you ask he always says “I’m too old for that kiddy shit.” Or “are ya trying to kill me? I ain’t spending my afternoon chasing you around”

His favorite is “how about I go hide in the living room with the tv and you go find a damn to give me.” Dick >:((((

If in the one is a TRILLION chance he says fine, to shut you up it’s a pretty normal game to be honest

He isn’t one for running around so he doesn’t put much of a fight. Just sorta “oh ya got me! Happy now?” Yeah, you are, now it’s his turn

Is a really good seeker he just doesn’t like to run. If you try and make him chase you he’ll just give up cursing “I have other shit to do than play CHILDRENS game” like down chill out

Okay listen, deep down he does find it, a LITTLE fun and likes seeing you and his brothers play but don’t play with him. He doesn’t have time for that shit 😭😭💅💅

[lurkingshan]

why do you continue to watch gmmtv shows when you clearly don’t enjoy them?

This is the kind of rude, cowardly anonymous ask that I would typically just delete, but I’m in the mood to be generous so I will respond and use it as an educational moment.

I have to start by rejecting your premise. I enjoy plenty of GMMTV shows. My favorite Thai bl of this year is Cherry Magic Thailand. I wrote quite lovingly about it on this hellsite for 12 weeks. I was also a big fan of Cooking Crush and The Trainee this year, Kidnap is giving me joy weekly, and I’m currently in the midst of a really interesting discussion with people far more mature than you about Peaceful Property. GMMTV is also responsible for some of my all time favorite Thai shows including Bad Buddy, 3 Will Be Free, Midnight Museum, Theory of Love, Moonlight Chicken, and Dark Blue Kiss, and many more besides that I liked a lot. You don't know me. You have made the mistake of assuming that because you’ve seen a small fraction of my posts about specific things, you know what I think about all kinds of things. But as my beloved departed grandfather loved to say, when you assume you make an ass out of u and me. 

So with that out of the way, let’s get to the real question underneath your logical fallacy: why don’t I keep my mouth shut instead of posting about the flaws I observe in these shows? There are a number of reasons for that.

First, I am extremely open about the fact that I am interested in the art and science of narrative storytelling, and I often post about it from a critical lens. This is all in the pinned post at the top of my blog, but I doubt someone with your lack of manners bothered to look there before sending me this ask. 

Second, I don’t believe in the popular fandom idea that all meta discussion of shows should be positive and centered on stanning for actors or pairs and their shows. That's a fine pursuit for folks who enjoy engaging with media that way, but I personally find that boring and intellectually empty, and have very little interest in it. I like to learn from the things I enjoy, and you can't learn if you're not willing to think critically about why something in a story may or may not be working.

Third, my favorite thing about watching media is discussing it with like-minded people, and the way to find like-minded people is to share your honest feelings about what you're watching. I have made some of the best friends of my life by posting my unfiltered thoughts about whatever I'm watching in various social media spaces, and having people come and say "hey, me too" or "I don't quite agree but what an interesting thought." We connect with others through sharing our thoughts and feelings. If you censor yourself in fandom spaces, you will not find your people.

Fourth, on the specific topic of GMMTV: they are the largest and best resourced ql-producing studio in the biggest ql-producing country, and part of a giant media conglomerate that controls much of the media in Thailand. Their shows matter in terms of the influence they have over the rest of the industry, and so the messages they send with their shows also matter. I will never ignore them completely even when I choose not to watch some of their shows, because where they go, the larger ql industry follows. When I see a trend in their shows that is harmful, like, say, the repeated use of marginalized identities for marketing their shows that they then disrespect in the way the stories are executed, that needs to be pointed out and examined, and I am hardly the only one doing so.

I'll end by asking you a question, anon: what did you hope to accomplish by sending me this ask? Unlike many of the other folks who have been engaging in critical discussion with me over the last couple days, you had nothing constructive to say. You didn't put forward an interpretation or share your own feelings, you didn't contribute to the collective analysis process, and you didn't offer any commiseration or even a clear disagreement with anything I said. From where I'm sitting, your only intent was to attempt to shame me for speaking. You will never be successful at that, and it's a pretty ugly impulse that you should examine in yourself. When you find yourself being awful to real human beings because you can't manage your emotions about fictional media, it's time to think about what you're doing here. I hope you'll reflect on that, and take good care.

[icysnails]

Hello sorry if I'm bothering you but I wanted to share one of my ideas with you. So what if the reader appeared on the Loufu and it caused a small tremor along with a large energy fluctuation so Jing Yuan went to investigate with Fu Xuan going with him and they came across an unconscious person who was not only confused when they awoke but completely exhausted, hungry and with strange markings on some parts of their body and when they got examined by a doctor it was discovered that they had an extremely large amount of strange energy within their body. (This was inspired by the first episode of Aphmau Diaries rebirth, here's the link if you don't know what I'm talking about: https://youtu.be/1Vzq1QZVtuk?si=kyIxOyJTSnTjNaMG) (if you don't want to write this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight☺️)

An Unexpected Guest

A/n: Hello anon!! I’m so sorry for the late response- thank you so much for your patience! I really like this idea- I’ve heard a lot about the Aphmau series but I’ve never gotten the chance to actually watch it (^o^) I hope you have a fabulous day!!

Warnings: mentions of severe injuries/wounds + infections + unconsciousness, slight refernces to Honkai Impact 3rd (reader’s markings are implied to be honkai infections + mentions of reader fighting archangels from Hi3)

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Jing Yuan x gn!reader (PLATONIC), Fu Xuan x gn!reader (PLATONIC)

Word Count: 1.9k

All was peaceful on the Xianzhou Luofu. Beams of sunlight illuminated the vibrant blue sky, tinting everything in a warm shade of gold. Shops operated on every street, the sharp ping of bells and the shouts of shopkeepers echoed out through the streets, attracting clamoring swells of civilians in record time. Children happily played among the crowds, swept up in the rare, shopping-induced excitement of the adults. For a change, there was little distress anywhere on the ship. There was no word of the Stellaron Hunters, no new reports of people being Mara struck, and even no reports of petty crimes. The workload wasn’t too terrible for those in command of the Luofu either- Jing Yuan was able to take a long nap, and Fu Xuan was able to take a break and have some tea for the first time in weeks. Yangqing managed to squeeze in some training time too. All was well. All was normal.

But of course, in a universe as vast and random as this one, the fates wouldn’t let it stay this peaceful for long. And of course, as a general, Jing Yuan must be prepared for anything. It is one of his most basic duties to stay alert and be ready at all times. Even so, the sleeping general couldn’t help but flinch in surprise as an ear-shattering boom echoed throughout the whole ship, followed by an earthquake that managed to toss even him out of bed. Meanwhile, just as Fu Xuan was about to swallow her first sip of tea, the vigorous shaking of the floor managed to knock the teacup out of her hands. Not only did she have to watch as her favorite cup shattered to bits, but she choked on her tea as well, leaving her in a wheezing heap on the floor. 

Thankfully both parties quickly recovered and ran to the windows of their respective offices to see what happened. A pillar of light shone from the Starskiff docks, along with a plume of dust that undoubtedly came from an explosion. Only a few minutes after this discovery, Fu Xuan was given orders from Jing Yuan to go inspect the crisis with him. So much for a peaceful day. 

As the disoriented pair cautiously approached the docks, they saw the silhouette of a crumpled body lying in the center of the dissipating light. Jing Yuan was the first to kneel down and inspect the injured figure. After checking your pulse, it became clear that you were still alive. But just barely. You were covered in deep, razor-fine cuts, and sizeable bruises littered your legs and arms. Jing Yuan didn’t know what had happened to you, but it was clear that what went down wasn’t good. The dark circles under your eyes suggested that you had been fighting for a long time, with no rest or nutrition. Taking a step back, the general’s features morphed into an expression of deep concern. He sighed and turned to his diviner companion, who was practically bursting to comment on the situation.

“Fu Xuan… I imagine you saw this coming?”

“I, in fact… did not. For once, my divinations couldn’t pick up on… well, anything of note happening today.”

“Hm… how interesting.”

Jing Yuan cast his gaze down to you once more, trying to decide what to do next. Fu Xuan merely suffered in silence at his side, completely unsure of what to do as well. After a few moments of heavy silence, the general scooped up your beaten body in his arms and began walking back to the Exalting Sanctum. Fu Xuan stared at him for a few moments before jogging after him, urgently asking him what he was doing. Jing Yuan calmly explained that, given the strange nature of the situation, you would need to be brought in for questioning and given heavy medical attention. The diviner huffed, quietly grumbling something about incompetence before following in his wake. 

Once they returned to the Exanting Sanctum, Jing Yuan called upon his tiny friend Bailu to help heal you. Having called upon her for anti-sleeping medicine many times before, Jing Yuan practically had her on speed dial in case any new problems arose. Hours upon hours passed before you were well enough to awaken, but Bailu’s work certainly did not disappoint. The gashes on your body had faded into nothingness, save for a few scars, and the herbs she used helped you recover after losing so much blood. According to Bailu, you needed much more time to rest, but by tomorrow you would be alright. However, one odd trait resisted her treatment: the glowing lines left on your stomach.

Bailu was the only one who had seen them so far. The markings were hidden by cloth and blood when you were found, so it slipped past the awareness of the general and diviner. She worriedly called them in, asking if they knew what those marks were, but she was given no answers. Perhaps the truth would reveal itself when you woke up, but for now, it was hopeless. Jing Yuan gratefully bid the exhausted healer goodbye, taking a seat by your bed afterward. Meanwhile, Fu Xuan further examined your markings. They were long, branch-like streaks of bright purple that extended towards your chest, almost like an infection. However, they didn’t seem to be getting worse, and they didn’t behave the way a bad infection would. Feeling a bit frustrated, she gave up and resorted to waiting alongside the general. 

While Jing Yuan fell asleep in no time, the poor diviner was left awake and antsy. The room was dead quiet, but the anxious tapping of her foot repeatedly broke the silence. She could see the future, for god's sake! How could she have ended up so clueless in this situation?! She was so used to knowing everything, planning ahead, and having things run as they should. But now, she was at a complete loss. She didn’t know anything about those marks, or about you. And she if there was one thing she hated, it was not knowing things. In order to save her sanity from crashing and burning, she hurried out of your room to browse the Luofu’s databases for information. And oh boy, did she find what she was looking for.

The amount of information locked away in the Luofu’s archives was enough to have anyone floored- even Fu Xuan. As her gaze flickered over each document she found about body markings, she became even more astounded at what she found. The markings you had signified great power, but were also a promise of anguish and ruin. The only other person to have these marks crashed onto the ship centuries ago, in the same way you did. No one knew who they were, or why they appeared. Even after contacting other planets, it became clear that they had never been seen before. Those markings were a mystery, as well as their identity. All anyone knew was that they possessed powers akin to a god, and were classified as a severe threat.

Borderline sprinting, Fu Xuan hauled herself back to your room to tell Jing Yuan everything she found. You could bring ruin to everyone on the Luofu if what she read was true. Not to mention the fact that you were immune to her divinations– you already had an advantage against her. Maybe this was all part of your plan, maybe you had already begun to–

As she opened the door to your room, her spiral immediately stopped. To her surprise, you were awake and pleasantly chatting away with the general. You seemed… polite. Friendly, even. Once you noticed her presence, you kindly greeted her and asked how she was. Fu Xuan short-circuited at this, staring at you in sheer bewilderment. What happened to the flames and destruction she read about? What exactly was going on?! She was still very wary of you, but she mustered up the courage to respond with a terse “Hello. I'm fine”. The way you greeted her showed that you weren’t an immediate threat, so maybe she could entertain small talk with you. For now, at least. 

After Fu Xuan discreetly briefed Jing Yuan on what she found, they began to question you. It was like something out of a good cop/bad cop show. The general was authoritative yet calm, and the diviner was like a defensive chihuahua. You revealed that you had been fighting off a swarm of white, bug-like creatures when you lost consciousness. All you could remember was getting hit in the stomach by one of them before blacking out. Jing Yuan gave his companion a knowing side-eye. Where you got hit was undoubtedly connected to those markings. They’d have to have Bailu examine them again once you were settled in, and testing would be necessary if you were cooperative enough.

But what were they meant to do now? They obviously couldn’t let you roam around the universe to fend for yourself, especially if those lines meant that you were uncontrollably powerful. They couldn’t keep you in captivity either though- it was inhumane, and would only make everything worse. If they wanted to give you freedom while keeping the universe safe, they would have to let you stay on the ship until they confirmed you weren’t a threat. Jing Yuan was intrigued by you- not just because you were an enigma, but because of your personality. You were kind, even in such jarring circumstances. you showed a rare kind of strength, one that pushed him to converse with you more. Besides, with the power you supposedly held, you could prove to be a useful force against the mara. 

“I’m assuming you don't have anywhere to go, yes?”

“Jing Yuan, just what are you thinkin–”

“We would be happy to house you on the Xianzhou Luofu for a while. There’s more we would like to ask you about… and, I have a feeling you’ve got a myriad of interesting stories to tell.”

After a moment of contemplation, you wearily accepted. The offer was very generous- besides, what other options did you have? You had no recorded identity in this world and no way of knowing what dangers awaited you. Heading out on your own was a death wish. Besides, your conversation with the general had been nice, and his pink-haired friend was entertaining. Here, you didn’t feel threatened. Jing Yuan seemed like a kind man, and it had been a while since someone had listened to you so attentively. You couldn’t help but be drawn to the diviner beside him as well. She might have been openly suspicious of you, but you couldn’t blame her. Her grumpy, yet determined way of going about things was amusing, and you could tell that there was a softer side to her behind her defensiveness. It was admirable how well she held herself together despite the chaotic nature of your arrival. 

It would take a lot of time to process all that had happened to you in the last 24 hours (along with a lot of therapy), but at least you had two allies to fall back on now. It was probably a poor choice to trust them so quickly, but the energy they exuded was welcoming– you could tell they were good people. Maybe the universe brought you to them for a reason. It was far-fetched, but if you were going to end up in a completely foreign world, who better to take you in than two of the ship’s leaders? As you fell asleep that night, long after the two of them had left, you attempted to prepare yourself for the next few weeks. The rest of your journey might end up being hell, but you had a feeling that will the help of the general and diviner, everything might just turn out okay.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Would you write for the M6 with an MC who's touch-starved and craves affection? Thanks in advance!

The Arcana HCs: M6 with a touch/affection-starved MC

Sequel is here! M6 with an MC who's been bottling up their affectionate tendencies

~ honestly I don't know why I didn't think of writing this one sooner, these kinds of headcanons are always my favorite to read and now I get to write some! many thanks @lemon-len ^.^ ~

Julian

If you think he didn't notice the way you melted into his touch when he healed you of that vampire eel bite that first night, you are wrong

He totally noticed

Most of it he chalked up to chemistry, but it definitely piqued his interest

He's also a champion at writing off his own impact on people, so the whole time you're unraveling the mysteries of the Red Plague and stealing moments with each other he's assuming it's the adrenaline high

It doesn't become apparent to him until after, when he's checking over all the bumps and bruises you've accrued, that he sees the way you lean into his touch

He's told you he loves you, and he knows you love him too, so he doesn't have to be hesitant (though really, when was he ever?)

Now he's folding you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you as snugly as he can and tucking your head under his chin

You're all surprised and tensed up at first, until he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head and you melt

He can feel the tension draining out of you and the way your fingers are tying themselves into the back of his shirt, and how you're burrowing into his chest

He's always been "too much" in his relationships as to how much physical touch he likes to initiate, but now he's found someone who wants what he has to offer and it's the person he's promised his life to

You can fully expect him to make you a solemn vow to never let you go uncuddled again

If you thought he was already generous with the PDA, it's about to get waaay worse

Asra

In case it's not obvious, their love language is touch

One of the hardest parts of hiding his affection for you those three years was not letting himself touch you

They already knew it was something you craved, it was obvious when they were your caretaker

But the first time he pulled you into a pillow pile with him to snuggle the familiarity of it rocketed you into inhuman levels of pain, and he wasn't going to risk that again

Once it became clear that you had grown enough to learn about the past and accept their affections, it was on

You have five minutes? cuddle time

There's a seat next to you? He's sliding into it and falling into your lap

You're walking by while he's sitting down? They're pulling you into their lap

You're getting ready for the day? He's doing your hair

You're having a conversation with someone that they're not a part of? They're standing behind you with their arms around your waist and their head on your shoulder, letting you take their weight

He has been known to fall asleep on you in public like this, most notably in the town square during a royal proclamation

If you're each doing your own unrelated tasks, they're either sitting beside you with your knees touching or behind you so you can be their backrest

He also knows how people tend to associate the feeling of different clothing articles with the people who wear them

So anytime they leave the shop while you're asleep you can expect to wake up wrapped in one of their shawls

He fully expects you to let him take your clothes with him on long journeys too, which is fine for the most part except for when it's one of your favorite pieces (you still want to wear that!)

Nadia

Her favorite way to love people is to provide for them

It demonstrates her commitment to being an important pillar in your life for you to lean on

Which is why she is completely tuned in to picking up on any of your needs, so she can satisfy them

So she figures out early on that physical contact is a desired and effective method of showing affection to you, but she can't figure out why you never ask for it

She guesses this could make a fun game, so she tries holding back a little and waiting for you to initiate

And then she watches you slowly withdrawing for a whole day, the confidence you always show in her is wavering slightly, and by the time dinner rolls around you're picking at your food with a face full of hurt and confusion, but you haven't said anything!

That's when it clicks for her that there could be another layer to this

Maybe one of the reasons you cherish affection so deeply is because you know what it's like to live without it

Now she's bodily lifting you out of your chair and dragging you to a more secluded spot to make up for her mistake

She feels awful, she should have known not to trifle with depriving you of something that obviously meant so much to you

She has you reclining in her lap, insisting on feeding you your dinner and apologizing for making you worry

Words are very important to her though, so she's going to ask as many questions as you're comfortable with answering about why you don't ask for affection and how to help you get there with her

Now she checks in with you every day by taking both your hands in hers and not letting you go until you've requested some gesture of affection from her

Muriel

He is so generally touch-averse that it took a long time for him to feel comfortable with giving or receiving any kind of physical affection

This didn't bother you too much until your trip south into the tundra

Because it was so cold down there you were incapable of keeping yourself warm at night, and needed to share a blanket and sleeping space with him

Oh my, that did things for your heart

Every night for several weeks you got to finish a day of uncertainty and training and exhaustion by sliding your back right up against his and melting in the waves of body heat he produces

It got easier as he relaxed around you, sometimes you'd wake up to his arm slung around you in his sleep and then you'd happily suffer through Morga's unimpressed stare as you savored the moment

But he was still so self-conscious of how big and intimidating he was, and you were still too hesitant to initiate contact whenever you wanted it, so things stalled for a bit there

You also have to be careful navigating his own relationship with his body

He's got so much trauma from the physical pain he was put through and the deprivation he endured that he's still learning how to taste the food he eats

Eventually you're able to ask him why he doesn't want to touch you, to which he responds that he's not used to touching someone without hurting them or them being afraid of him

It's progressing slowly, but now you have permission to initiate or invite cuddles, and it's changing the world for him bit by bit, because you're showing him that his touch can be a good and precious thing

Portia

She notices how much you love it when she touches you, but she doesn't really get why it's such a big deal at first

She grew up with a sibling and a grandmother and a town of friends and she does manual work elbow-to-elbow with a multitude of palace servants, touch is normal

Until she's sneaking another chapter of a favorite novel and encounters a character for whom touch is not normal

And now she's drawing connections between you and the character, is this why you relax as soon as she puts her hands on your face or your whole body sags when she hugs you?

She can't imagine a life without hugs and tussles and elbows to the ribs and tripping over other people's toes

As soon as you're both back in the cottage that evening she's pulling you onto the couch with her for cuddles

She's telling you all about the book character and listing all the ways you're similar to them, how you don't touch people often but you melt as soon as somebody does, how the character was that way because they weren't used to being touched

Was it the same way for you? Who gives you hugs? How many hugs did you normally get? Did you also get locked in a tower and use glass slippers to climb a beanstalk out?

You're surprised by the onslaught of questions, but her tone is purely curious and slightly concerned, without an ounce of judgment

Once you tell her more about why you crave affection so much she's determined to give you as much as you can handle

This is her partner in crime, her ride or die, you have always had her back and she is going to watch yours

Besides, she thinks you're the most attractive human to walk the planet, who wouldn't want to cuddle you for hours?

Lucio

He clued in faster than you expected him to

He's not very emotionally intelligent, but he is physically intelligent

He grew up in a warring tribe and spent his youth as a mercenary, interpreting people's body language for strengths and weaknesses is second nature

So here you are, dragging him through mystical realms he's completely vulnerable in, and he's watching you like a hawk

And he picks up on it quickly, any time you two make casual physical contact your guard slips a little

At first he's thinking of ways to use it against you, but your charm gets through to him fairly quickly and he never acts on it

It's the night you spend in the labyrinth that settles his doubts for him

You're stumbling every few steps but you're too hyped up to rest, until he sits next to you and pulls you into his side

He watches the way you tense and then completely relax, falling asleep on his shoulder while he's still holding an open weapon in one fist

He's briefly wondering if he'll have to make a habit of this, pausing everything to guard you so you can sleep

And then he's getting an emotional punch to the gut by feeling just how much trust it takes for someone like you to fall asleep on someone like him

He can't remember the last time somebody trusted him at all, much less this completely

By the time your eyes are fluttering open he's decided he'll be willing to keep watch while you sleep as often as you want him to

He's not shy about showing affection at all, so once you two save the world and start your new life together you can expect to receive some kind of physical affection several times a day

(an extra note from brainrot - this prompt has me inspired for a second one, which would be the M6 with an MC who has a lot of affection to give, but has been bottling it up and is just now getting to share it with someone who wants/appreciates it. Would anyone like to see that?)

[heyclickadee]

More Massive Fandom Salt under the cut

If I see one more condescending post about how people who don’t like Tech getting killed off just don’t get it, I’m going to mcfreaking lose it.

Like, okay. I think Tech is alive. I think I’ve been clear about that. If I haven’t, then I don’t know what else to do. I actually even get why taking him off the board for season three could be a good move (give Crosshair time to decompress and Omega time to come into her own and be the hero of her own show, while also maybe setting Tech up for another plot line to come later), and think it’s possible that bringing Tech back later could actually work much better than what I originally wanted to happen. In fact, if it really is a fake-out I think it’s kind of immaculate. And I still get angry reading those posts.

Because, first, a lot of people upset by the handling of Tech from “Plan 99” onwards are upset because Tech meant something to them. It goes a lot deeper than just losing your favorite character. Tech was a fantastic piece of autistic representation and losing that hurt. Losing that and then never getting the catharsis that comes with on-screen emotional processing from the characters, no closure, no real in-show impact besides inconveniencing the others hurt even more. It left a lot of autistic people in the fandom feeling like we were told that we weren’t welcome in Star Wars at all.

And most of us still love the show! The Bad Batch is still my favorite show and I adore basically the entire thing up through season three, right up to the point where everything just kind of stops without resolving anything but Hunter and Omega, and not getting Tech back before the end hit me so badly that I almost dropped Star Wars completely. People are upset for a reason.

Second, I get that it can be annoying seeing criticism of your favorite show. I do. I actually disagree with a lot of criticism of TBB and do tend to get a little annoyed at certain takes. The other thing about the “Tech’s dead and that’s good”/“You thought Tech could come back because you were delusional” posts that makes me want to fight everyone, though, is that they tend to be incredibly dismissive. They’ll bring up arguments people made during the airing of the show for why Tech could come back, or arguments they made afterwards for why they thought he should have, and then either misunderstand or talk right past them.

It gives anyone who made those arguments, or who was upset by the ending, a general sense that we’re not being listened to. That people have already decided we’re irrational and that nothing we say or experience matters, that we saw patterns that weren’t there, or that we care too much about this specific thing, or that we’re being immature. Maybe. Just. I don’t know—consider for a second that a lot of the people who are most upset about Tech belong to the noticing patterns/caring a lot about specific things/dismissed for noticing things that are really there in real life/frequently infantilized neurotype. Again, there’s a reason some of us are upset and having a hard time with fandom right now.

I actually don’t have a problem with people thinking or making posts saying someone needed to die or that Tech “dying” was well handled as a death. I will always disagree, and I think we’re too close to the “bury your disabled” trope with most of the batchers for me to be okay with any of them dying like that, but one person will interpret fiction differently than another and I can’t and shouldn’t police that. I do, however, have a massive problem with the condescending way a lot of those posts go about it. Think Tech ought to be dead? Fine. Call anyone who thinks otherwise a child? Instablock, I don’t need that in my life.

[archangeldyke-all]

sev having a crush on you, like so shy ( similar to tatto sevika yk) like reader seems a fuckgirl ( shes not) and for that sev see them like 0 chances ( but is a mutual crush)

that makes sense?

hope youre alright, love your writtingg

this is soooo cute ty for this idea anon!!

men and minors dni

you're a part-time bartender at the last drop, working slow afternoons on the weekdays for some extra cash.

you come in when the bar opens at three, and leave at six when theriam comes in to take over the rowdier night crowd.

beyond pouring drinks, your job mostly consists of listening to loyal patrons bitch and moan. you're a friendly person, people feel naturally drawn to you, and with a few drinks in their system, a friendly face is all the invitation they need to pour their souls out to you.

it's fine by you, you like the job, and silco pays generously.

your favorite part of the job is sevika.

the woman has a lot of downtime between her assignments and meetings with silco, and in the lull between day and night on weekdays, she can almost always be found sitting at the edge of the bar-top, sipping on a whiskey and watching you work.

you guys become fast friends, always laughing together at the stories other patrons tell you from across the bar.

sevika drinks for free as silco's right hand, but she always leaves you a hefty tip, bigger than what her tab would be.

you have a crush on the woman-- how could you not? but you keep it to yourself, well aware of the many lovers sevika has.

sevika's oblivious to her feelings toward you until she saddles up at her usual stool one afternoon after a meeting gone bad, eager to get drunk and forget her whole day.

her eyes land on you, drying glasses and listening to old teddy complain about his bum knee. you laugh, shaking your head at his antics.

you look up briefly, your eyes catching on sevika, and the glass you're polishing slips between your fingers with a crash when you see her.

you rush over to her, stepping over the glass, reaching over the bar to take her chin in your hands. "fuck happened to you?!" you exclaim.

sevika is suddenly unable to speak. she tries to recall if she's ever touched you before, if you've always been this warm. she comes up with nothing. she can't think about much else besides your face, the color of your eyes, and how soft your lips look.

"sevika?" you ask, worried she's got a concussion. she blinks at you.

"uh. got in a fight." she chokes out. you laugh and shake your head, letting her chin go and turning around to pour a drink.

sevika thinks that's the end of it until you slide her whiskey toward her, followed by the bottle. you hold up your finger to say 'one second' and you disappear to sweep up the glass you'd broken and refill empty glasses. she's not sure what to expect-- but it certainly isn't you suddenly rounding the bar with a first aid kit in your hands.

for the second time that night, you've rendered sevika speechless.

you don't notice this time, simply getting to work disinfecting and bandaging the scrapes on her face, a look of concentration on on your face as you gently press and dab up the dried blood on her skin.

"just your face?" you ask. she blinks up at you, clueless. "did you hit your head or something?" you ask, concerned. sevika snaps back to life.

"no." she says, clearing her throat. "no, nothing else."

she spends the rest of the afternoon drinking and watching you, completely unaware of the chatter surrounding her, only focused on you.

have you always been this beautiful? has your laugh always made her feel-- fluttery? what the fuck was happening to her?

it's a crush. it's a fucking crush.

for the first time in her adult life, sevika has a crush on someone. and its you. the person she sees every single fucking day. the only person she'd consider calling a friend. she hates herself for it.

especially because you're so clearly uninterested in her.

you're just doing your job when you talk to her. just being friendly. and of course you're especially friendly with her, she's basically your boss.

plus, sevika sees the way you talk to ran. ran who's younger and friendlier than she is. ran who you laugh with constantly. ran who you light up when you see, running around the bar to hug them.

she keeps it to herself. it's the smartest move, she thinks. she wouldn't even know how to approach you romantically, wouldn't know where to take you out. she only ever goes home and to work-- and occasionally babettes-- something she realized she stopped doing around the same time you started working for the last drop.

god she's fucked.

so instead of doing anything about her feelings, she just enjoys the few hours a day she gets to spend with you.

she memorizes your face, catalogues all your expressions. she watches you pour drinks and silently daydreams about kissing you-- or fucking you, depending on how many drinks shes had.

for months she simply sits and watches. she laughs at your jokes, shakes her head at the crazy patrons, and on the occasion that you pass her a glass and your fingers brush, she bites her lip to keep from smiling.

it comes to a head on a monday. sevika storms into the last drop, pissed from a shitty meeting she'd just finished, only to see you jumping for joy and wrapping ran up in a massive hug. she freezes in the doorway.

something's... wrong with her. she's suddenly cold, all through her body. her throat feels tight, and her eyes feel tingly and oh fuck. she was not going to fucking cry.

she turns around and storms back out of the bar, wandering the streets until your shift's done and it's safe to head back in.

you don't see sevika that night. it's not unusual for you to go a day or two without seeing her, so you're not concerned.

but when thursday rolls around and you still haven't seen her, you start asking around.

ran shrugs, says that sevika's been coming into work all week. you frown.

when you're switching shifts with theriam, he tells you that sevika's been coming in every night, like usual. this makes you pause.

was sevika avoiding you? no, there's no fucking way. sevika's a grown woman whose never had a problem speaking her mind. if she had a problem with you, she'd tell you...

unless she realized you were crushing on her. you haven't been subtle about it, flirting with her, wearing low cut shirts and bending over in front of her, always sneaking glances when you think she's distracted. a pit forms in your stomach.

oh shit. sevika was totally avoiding you. she'd figured you out. fuck.

you don't see sevika again until the following wednesday. after work, you stay at the bar, drinking away your sorrows, chatting with patrons.

it's like you have a sixth sense, something tickling the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at the exact second sevika descends the main stairs into the club. for a moment, you're shocked at how fucking beautiful she is. you hadn't seen her in a week and a half, and you'd managed to forget.

suddenly all the liquor you'd had that night catches up to you. a mixture of rage, impulse, and stupidity overtakes you as you stand from the bar and march up to sevika, furious.

she sees you approach her, and her face drops. you're shocked when sevika-- big bad scary lady sevika-- turns on her heel and marches right out of the bar. you blink, then run after her.

"what the fuck, sevika?" you shout, stumbling out of the last drop and into the cold night air. she freezes, her shoulders coming up to her ears as you approach her from behind.

"leave me alone." she grumbles. you scoff.

"oh, fuck you!" you shout. she turns around, a shocked expression on her face. you laugh, choking on tears. "fuck you sevika." you spit. "so what-- you figure me out and now you won't even fucking talk to me? do i disgust you that much?" she blinks-- her shock melting into confusion. "i thought we were fucking friends!" you shout. sevika blinks at you.

"what are you talking about?" she asks, baffled. you scoff and wipe your tears away.

"i get that you're a fuckin' player, or whatever, and i understand i had a snowball's chance in hell with you-- but i thought you'd be a decent fucking friend, at least." you mumble. you turn to storm back into the bar but are stopped when sevika's hand clamps on your shoulder.

she spins you around and you gasp. "what are you talking about?" she asks again. you blink.

"...you don't know?" you ask hesitantly.

"i don't know what?" she says.

"that i-- wait. if you didn't figure it out then why are you avoiding me?" you ask.

"figure what out?"

"answer my question first." you demand. sevika cringes.

"i-- i'm just being a bitch." she mumbles. you laugh.

"well yeah, i got that, but why?"

"'cause i fuckin--!" sevika starts with a shout, pauses and takes a deep breath. "i have... feelings for you." she whispers. "and i know you're with ran so i just--"

"wait." you say, holding a hand up. you feel dizzy. "wait." you repeat. "what about me and ran?" you ask.

"i-- i saw you guys last monday. you were all over them. i won't tell anyone if that's what you're worr--"

"sevika," you butt in, "ran and i are not together." she blinks at you.

"but--"

"ran's engaged." you say. sevika's jaw drops. "to my cousin." you add on. her hand comes up to cover her mouth. "that's why i was 'all over them' on monday. they'd gotten engaged over the weekend." you say.

suddenly, you register the rest of what she'd said. a hesitant smile starts forming on your lips.

"shit." sevika grunts behind her hand.

"wait... what kind of feelings do you have for me, exactly?" you ask.

"no that's not how this works! i answered your question so you gotta answer mine." she says, a blush forming on her cheeks. for the first time in a week and a half, you feel like you can breathe clearly.

"okay." you say, your smile growing.

"so?" she asks. you blink up at her. "what did you think i figured out?"

"the huge fuckin' crush i have on you." you whisper. a white hot flash of anxiety shoots through your body for a split second but before you can freak out, a big smile is breaking across sevika's face. it's the biggest you've ever seen her smile.

oh. you think.

"oh." sevika says. "are... are you sure?" she asks. you snort. "i mean... i'm not good at romance. and you're so... pretty and friendly and everyone likes you, and i'm..."

"you're gorgeous and smart and funny even if you think you aren't, and you've been the only person i think about since the day i met you, and i've wanted to kiss you for fuckin-mmph!" you're cut off by sevika's lips pressing against yours.

you melt against her, winding your arms around her neck and pulling her closer as she snakes her arms around your waist. she sighs into your mouth and you shudder.

behind you, ran walks out of the bar and catches sight of you kissing the woman you've been lusting after for months. they cheer.

taglist

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix

[creepswrites]

Slashers with a s/o who has a fear of needles or medical things in general please!!☆

SLASHERS with a GN! S/O who is afraid of needles and medical things!

MICHAEL MYERS

He's surprisingly understanding about it!

After years in hospitals himself, he's also a bit apprehensive about needles

He used to be subjected to a lot of medicines against his will so he's standing in solidarity with you

While he won't exactly go to the hospital with you if you have to, when you come back he'll actually initiate touch with you, holding your hand and touching your face

He'll let you cuddle him like a teddy bear if you need to

Michael's not the most emotional guy you know but you can tell he understands your fears when you vent to him about them

If you take medication that require you to do shots on yourself, Michael's apprehensive to help you out

Simply because it freaks you out as much as it freaks him out

Not that he'd let you see it, of course

He could be convinced to help out, so long as you promise to make his favorite for dinner that night

BO SINCLAIR

When you bring it up with him, its because you saw his room under the auto shop

Honestly, he'd been impressed the chair with straps on it, photos of his victims, and the clear signs of torture weren't what upset you

No, it was the syringes you saw on his tools tray

He'd teased you about it at first, but when he restrained you in his arms and threatened to poke you with one, so close to poking into your skin, he'd stopped when you started bawling

Lester had smacked him upside the head for it and he started taking it more seriously

Whenever guests were taken down to the little basement room, you avoided it like the plague. Not that you didn't before, you just had a greater reason to avoid it

After integrating into Ambrose, you didn't really see doctors anymore, but if you absolutely needed to, Bo would give you shots

He'd probably first try to pawn off the work on Vincent or Lester but when you pleaded with him, he caved

You were his biggest weakness and it made his heart clench to see how much you trusted him, despite everything

He even made sure the syringes in his dad's old office were put out of sight somewhere safe so you didn't have to see them

You avoided the office a lot anyways, it made your stomach hurt to be in

BILLY LOOMIS

Billy doesn't see the big deal, honestly

The two of you had been watching horror movies together, cuddled up on his couch, and you'd become incredibly distressed when one of the characters got injected with something

You'd buried your face into his neck with a sob and he paused the movie to make sure you were okay

Despite his low empathy, he didn't like seeing you cry, so you'd told him all about it

If you ever had to go to the hospital, Billy would comfort you when you saw him

He'd make sure to grab your favorite snacks and have a warm blanket ready at home

If you needed to self-administer shots, he'd happily offer to help

To be honest, he was a bit curious about it. He'd probably make a big show of it

But he'd be a bit flattered if you don't wince or cry when he does it. He thinks its because you trust him not to hurt you permanently

Billy would probably suggest "exposure therapy" via movies

When he noticed just how bad you'd shake and cry, he'd stop. He loved you, after all, but he always went for a solution before comfort

He made sure his movie suggestions going forward didn't have needles or hospitals as the main focus

LESLIE VERNON

Leslie's fine with it honestly! It doesn't bother him

When you have to pick him up from the morgue, though, he notices you shaking outside

It's not a hospital, but it's close. And you fucking hate it.

Leslie gives you a quick hug and is quick to get you out of there

But, because of his injuries, he needs your help with giving him shots

You're trembling and all but fainting when he asks, your fears completely slipping his mind until he sees your face

"Babe, looks like you've seen a ghost-?" And then it clicks

He's incredibly apologetic, reassuring you he can get Billy's help while you're reassuring him - albeit more shakily - that you can help him

After all, he'd do the same for you!

But he won't let you make yourself miserable for his sake, not at all

He shoos you to the bedroom to take care of himself and you cuddle with your pillow until he comes back

Leslie's idea of romance is laying with you in bed, drawing patterns on your skin with his fingers, telling you how he'll blow up every hospital ever so that you never feel uncomfortable

It's a little bit sweet...

[lunarisverysilly]

Acht/Dedf1sh X GN!Reader Fluff Alphabet

Pretty green octopus... Also i used they/them pronouns because the octopus IS nonbinary :3

A - Affection(How Do They Show Affection/Love Language?)

They show their love through quality time and words of affirmations. They love being near you. You both could be doing completely different things in the same room and they would be content. They also love complimenting you and telling you how much you mean to them. They prefer to be shown affection through words of affirmations and acts of service. They love hearing you praise them. They also like when you do things for them, making breakfast, doing their laundry, running a bath for them after a long day. little things like that just make them melt.

B - Beautiful(What Do They Find The Most Beautiful About Their S/O?)

They would admire your intelligence and your strength if your physically strong.

C - Comfort(How Do They Comfort Their S/O?)

Their not that good at comforting with words but they can listen and give advice.

D - Domestic(Do They Like Housework And Being At Home?)

Their fine doing housework. its not something they particularly like or dislike.

E - End(How They End Things With Their S/O?)

They would be quick to end things if they realized it wasnt working out or someone was losing feelings. They would be pretty upset to end things but ultimately know its for the best.

F - Family(Do They Wanna Start A Family With Their S/O?)

They arent big on kids. If you wanted to raise a child with them then they wouldnt mind(and they would also be a pretty good parent) but they would prefer a pet or something easier to take care of.

G - Goofy(How Serious Are They In A Relationship?)

Their pretty chill and laidback with their partner and just in general. They can be serious at times but thats rare.

H - Healthy(How Healthy Is A Relationship With Them?)

Very healthy. Its rare you even have arguments with them. and when you do its small and resolved quickly.

I - Insecurites(What Are They Insecure About In A Relationship?)

I dont think they would have any big insecurites. Like i said, the relationship is really healthy.

J - Jealousy(Do They Get Jealous Easily?)

Not really. They wont get jealous of friends unless its clear that the friend likes you. They also might get upset if someone flirts with you but they know you would never reciprocate.

K - Kisses(Their First Kiss, How They Kiss, How Much They Kiss Their S/O, Anything Kiss Related.)

They love kisses. They adore kissing you everywhere but their favorite place is your forehead. Your first kiss was right after you both confirmed you were dating. They simply couldnt wait any longer to kiss you. Their kisses are soft but passionate. They dont ever wanna stop kissing you!

L - Love(Who Says I Love You First?)

Them. Acht is a very blunt person. If their falling in love with you, they will be quick to say it.

M - Melt(What Does Their S/O Do That Makes Them Melt?)

Being told you love them. They loveee being told how much you love them.

N - Nicknames(Their Nicknames For Their S/O?)

Usually just says your name. They only use pet names when they feel affectionate.

O - Obstacles(How To They React To Obstacles In Your Relationship?)

Their good at handling problems. They will try their best to work through it with you.

P - PDA(Are They Public About Your Love?)

They make it clear your dating, but dont like showing that much affection in public.

Q - Quality Time(How Much Time Do They Spend With Their S/O?)

Like i said, quality time is their main love language. They adore you and want to spend all their freetime with you.

R - Ring(Do They Want To Put A Ring On It?)

After a couple years, maybe. Its not really something they think about until you both talk about it. They wont hesitate to propose if they know you wanna get married.

S - Soft(How Soft And Sweet Are They?)

Their pretty sweet to their partner. They give lots of love.

T - Trust(How Important Is Trust In Your Relationship. How Much Trust Is There?)

They need to trust you a lot to even wanna be your friend. They trust you with everything and that trust is mutual.

U - Upset(What Upsets Them In A Relationship?)

Dishonesty. They want you to know you can tell them anything. Lying to them makes them feel like you dont trust them anymore.

V - Valentine(What Do They Do For Their S/O On Valentines Day?)

They dont do much. They'll get you some gifts and chocolates but not much else. They see valentines day as a pointless holiday tbh.

W - Words(Are They Good At Expressing Themselves Through Words?)

Kinda. Their good at giving compliments and advice but not good at expressing emotions.

X - Xoxo(How Romantic Are They?)

Not the most romantic but they can be sometimes. If you like romantic gestures, they will try and do more for you.

Y - Yawn(How Do They Get When Their Sleepy?)

They get more affectionate than usual. They kiss you a lot normally but now its doubled.

Z - Zwhat The Fuck(I Literally Dont Know Any Words That Start With Z???)

Their favorite fruit is oranges.

P

[erithel]

Piggybacking off of your response to the previous ask, man can I just say what an utter clusterfuck the whole "gone" situation was follower-wise... i'm gonna make this about me so sorry about that, however i'm the kind of person that can't really articulate their thoughts, can't see through the layers as clearly as others and when people post a thoughtful analysis that reflects my feelings about the fic while the best thing I can come up with is something like "wow, fic good❤️" (which yeah I know is still fine but anyway) it makes me feel so much better because what is trapped in my head is articulated as I wanted to express it... that being said, seeing you explore ptsd and lance's grief like this stirred smth in me, I cried at times, so I was very excited to see people in your asks sharing their thoughts and all... And then they didn't seem to care so much about it (not all of them obvs) and at first it was like "hahah yeah.. we all want them to kiss xd lol" but then seeing you post about how people would essentially flood your asks for klance to KISS ALREADY™ plus with other general stuff... Idk if it was frustrating for me I can't even begin to imagine how it was for you, because this is like.. still a story, just in comic form, so yes it has an arc it need to complete. We could see the episode count from the beginning too if I remember correctly, so being so insistent about it was weird? Either way, it was a story and it was getting somewhere and spamming about when your ship will be canon is kind of annoying. So sorry this happened to you and so happy you pushed through! I binge it on the regular!

I feel like I could do a Ted Talk on the etiquette of commenting at this point, through my own experience, and also reading comments my friends have received on their work.

But essentially what it boils down to is two things:

Creators put a lot of work into their stories, and

They choose to write stories their way

The way that I write fan content (both fics and comics) is because these stories and these subjects are important to me. Some of them are very personal, too. And I know I am not the only creator who chooses to write this way.

Obviously the way I reacted to the "just kiss already" comments may have seemed like an overreaction from the outside (I thank you for being understanding in your ask btw).

But the message those constant comments were sending was a very clear one of:

All the thought/time/work you put into this story does not matter

Everyone who ever told you to "just get over it" was right

Grief can be a very physical and powerful thing.

Losing someone you love leaves you with this excess of love and affection that now has no where to go. You used to have a place to direct it, and when that place is suddenly gone, it takes a while to learn how to function again; to redistribute that love.

It's something that never goes away, it just gets manageable. And it's definitely not something you can "just get over."

I'm not saying I'm the greatest storyteller of all time, but I was tired of reading books and watching movies and shows where the characters never felt the aftermath of a loss. They all just moved onto the next episode or the next chapter like nothing ever happened.

And I do think it's important to tell stories like this in fanfiction. Because many readers are younger. Many readers rely on reading fanfiction because it's free. Many readers need hope and catharsis. And getting to read about their favorite characters go through terrible things but realistically come out on the other side is, to me, very important. Because the stories we read - no matter if they are free or published works - can stick with us for the rest of our lives.

This is why it was such a big deal for me. Because I was trying to tell a story that said "Please take your time to get over things. Please know that it's okay if you don't immediately snap back to the way things were. Please know that it's okay to feel whatever it is you are feeling." And getting comment after comment that said the exact opposite was honestly just crushing.

I would take a "wow, fic good" comment any day. Because it acknowledges what has been done, instead of demands things to speed up to suit someone else's needs.

And, on a slightly more petty note... it was a klance fan comic. It's not like they weren't going to kiss. They just weren't going to do it in the middle of an argument where it wouldn't have stuck!

(I do also think it's funny that there's a perfect comic example of a kiss happening too early, before communication which happened right around the same time as Gone. And for the record, she's gotten way more and way worse comments than I did, so that's something worth mentioning, too.)

The point is that some stories are very personal to the author and very important to certain members of the audience. Of course no single story will be for everyone, but just because it is not going a certain way does not mean it's okay to demand it be changed.

[popatochisssp]

IM IN LOVE WITH ALL THE NEW BOYSS!!!! I was wondering what hobbies they would have? Would any of them skate? What about make art? Play piano, perhaps?

Quick sidebar, it would probably be easier to ask who can’t skate than who can—at least regarding ice skating—because the majority of the skeletons lived/grew up in Snowdin and had plenty of time to practice their ‘don’t pratfall on the ice’ skills, so they’d (almost) all be at least passingly competent at ice skating, and then whatever learning curve is involved with slightly transferable skills to not-ice skating.

That said!

…You know, I realized I never did an accounting of all this, even with the first two waves of boys, so…

This is by no means a complete list of everything the boys might enjoy doing—despite the fact that this is huge and completely got away from me, oh my god seriously do not open the readmore on your dash—but!

Sans (Undertale):

He’s a goofy guy, so it’s probably no surprise that he’s into comedy. He’s a lover of puns and pranks and jokes in general, just…maybe not as casually as he makes it look. He does a little stand-up now and then, open mic nights mostly nowadays, but he’s played to larger audiences before at the MTT resort. He’s also got a pretty sizeable collection of comedic paraphernalia—rubber chickens, whoopie cushion, snapping gum, you name it—just on the off chance he might get to use it in a prime moment. He spends a lot of his free time reading joke books, watching other pros perform, and even, on occasion, don’t tell anyone, but… studying the science of humor, what people seem to find funny, how, and why. He doesn’t like to let on, because he thinks it makes him seems a little less cool and funny if you know he goes out of his way to research this stuff sometimes instead of just vibing on improv, but he genuinely finds the subject fascinating and likes to read about it. Alas, he’s a nerd…

And as such, he’s also very into physics. Quantum physics as food for thought in his downtime when he just wants to chew on some conceptually heavy stuff, but classical and practical physics make for some great experiments and demos, especially as party tricks or ‘hey, you wanna see something cool?’s for interested onlookers and he’s so all about that. Want to try an egg drop from the roof with popsicle sticks and straws? He’s got tape and a fresh carton right here. Maybe make a magnet out of a battery? Sure, there’s wire and nails around here somewhere… Or maybe you want to bet him he can’t hold up a water bottle with nothing but a string and three matches? C’mon, 10G—no, 20G. But really, he’ll take any excuse to do a cool demo of stuff he knows.

As for stuff that doesn’t demo quite as well… It was a little less apparent Underground, but there was a reason he had that telescope of his and it wasn’t just because he liked pranking people with paint on the eye-piece. He did love doing that, of course, but he also genuinely loves stars and space, learning about it and looking at it now that he actually has the opportunity to—he’s got his telescope to use on clear nights, a yearly pass for the local planetarium, and you better believe he’s subscribed to NASA’s newsletters for regular updates on the goings on out there. He tries to play it cool, but stars and black holes and nebulae are cooler, it’s hard not to get invested in everything to do with them…

Papyrus (Undertale):

Of course, he’s the master of puzzles, and not just your basic jigsaw! …Well, maybe sometimes a jigsaw, he’s not morally opposed to them but really, he needs a challenge for his intellect! He doesn’t mind a word puzzle here and there—as long as it’s not a crossword—but physical puzzles are his favorites, anything to employ his spatial reasoning and impressively fine motor skills. Rubik’s cubes are fun, linked wires, interlocking blocks, really anything in three dimensions that he can fiddle with and manipulate until it surrenders to his incredible greatness. He’s very proud of his solving ability and definitely brags about it, but he’s not just blowing hot air. He really does have a great knack for observing disparate pieces and fitting them together conceptually to see what they can be before ever starting to physically assemble them and the joy of bragging aside, he loves getting to exercise that particular mind-muscle and show his smarts.

In a similar vein, he’s also a big fan of model-making. Planes, trains, automobiles and the like, and no small amount of action figures, he likes to build them up piece by piece with his own two hands. It’s fine to populate his theoretical battle scenarios with gifts from brothers and Santas, or stuff he found at the Dump, but it’s definitely his preference to start with a kit and put it all together himself, watching it gradually take shape with his diligent effort. Maybe he’ll go off-book from time to time, a little bit, but customizing things to his own unique specifications just seems the thing to do when he’s already doing the rest of the making. All the gluing and cutting and painting and lacquering by hand… it’s the art of creation—and what nobler pursuit is there than that?

Well, there may be one other thing. As a truly renaissance man, he’s naturally well-rounded in his interests, intelligent and creative and yes, physically fit too! For him, there’s no better way to stay in shape than by playing sports, most any kind! Basketball, soccer, hockey, tennis, he’ll play any sport, just explain the rules and give him the ball—or don’t, depending on the objective and rules of the specific game in question as you’ve described it. The desirability of the sportsball does seem to vary quite a bit, so he’ll need to determine whether he wants to obtain or get rid of the ball, puck, shuttlecock, whatev—no, that’s the accurate term, it is not! Whatever you’re thinking! Stars, be mature… But! He likes games and being active and having friends, all of which are part and parcel of engaging in sports, so he’s really always up for a game.

Sky (Underswap Sans):

He likes to bake! He’s not a professional and in fact, he finds it to be quite challenging at times—there’s way more restrictions than cooking on how much to add of this, making sure to do that before the other thing but after this step, the oven has to be at exactly the right temperature… There’s a lot of steps and rules, but that’s kind of what he likes about it. He likes trying to see if he can make a thing, and then if he can, what tweaks he can make to flavors and textures without compromising the end result. He’s not always successful—he’s definitely ended up with sopping wet cakes, burnt pie crusts, overly salty muffins—but frankly, the experimenting to get it right is all part of the fun! He tends to make more tasty treats than he does failures and he’s happy to share those around with friends and family anytime. Baking may be an exacting mistress, but he loves to tango with her all the same!

Speaking of which…well, he may not know the tango specifically but he does love to dance! He’s got a lot of energy and a solid sense of rhythm, and that combo tends to result in at least a little shimmy of a two-step when there’s a good beat going on—and all bets are off entirely if there happens to be a dance floor and a favorite song playing. He likes dancing with a partner, or in a group, but he’ll dance all by himself if he’s feeling the mood, like nobody’s watching…or rather, like everyone’s watching and he wants to impress and lure out a little company to join him. He even has a tendency to put on music and dance in place a bit when he’s doing otherwise boring chores around the house, like dishes or vacuuming, and while he doesn’t mind doing his dancing solo then too, he’s always delighted to find someone who’s willing to dance along.

He wouldn’t turn down some company for a bit of outdoor exploration, either. A hiking trail maybe? Or some rock climbing? A nature trail or just a walk in the park wouldn’t go awry either if something a little less strenuous is required! He does like the exercise but it’s mostly the nature and all things green that he wants to see and be out in—trees and flowers and even grass. His house would probably be packed with greenery if he…hadn’t…killed every single plant he ever tried to keep…but! Since he does indeed have a deadly black thumb, he likes to visit the plants, in their natural habitat where he has no control over whether they live or die (so they’ll probably continue to live).

Paps (Underswap Papyrus):

It’s no secret that he’s a bookworm. He loves literature and always has—his brother will tell you he was reading before he was even talking, and as embarrassing as it is every time he brings it up, it’s not untrue. He reads voraciously, with a preference for fantasy, romance, and poetry, but he’ll read pretty much any book he can get his hands on. It’s probably no surprise that he’s been inspired to do a little writing of his own, over the years. He’s pretty private about his own work (especially the poetry, oh god, he’d dust on the spot if someone saw his poetry) but he still loves to talk about the written word and techniques used in its conveyance and form, and the struggles writers face in trying to communicate the ideas they have stuck in their heads. He’s great for reading recommendations if he knows the kind of things someone likes, but his go-to recs will always be his personal favorites.

Pride and Prejudice is one such favorite. He’s seen all the film adaptations and miniseries, and branched out from there, first into stuff inspired by similar works, then originals, and then…okay, he’s maybe a little bit addicted to period pieces in general now. Whenever a new one comes out, anything about regency or royals or the nobility in a dramatic setting, he pretty much has to watch it, more only a question of ‘when’ and not ‘if’ he’ll be checking it out. Naturally, he’s happiest when it’s coming out on a scheduled basis, because if an entire season drops all at once he’s going to sit there and binge it and it’s much harder to deny he has an addiction when he just pulled an all-nighter about it. He can’t help himself, he has to see if the socially mismatched couple can make it work and be wed in the end, love winning out over silly class divides…

When he’s not actively obsessed with either of those things, though, he dabbles a bit in calligraphy. He’d probably hesitate to call it a hobby, he does have a couple of those fancy pens and some nice paper and ink to use them with, and he’s decent at it, but definitely needs to practice more to be able to do the really fancy flourishes without blotting the ink or scratching the page. He can certainly do some simple, clean lettering if needed! Like…if you want a poster or a sign to look neat and professional, or…maybe you want the ‘To Do’ list on the fridge to have a fancy header or something? (His end-goal is to be able to do his own drop-caps and an elaborate cursive title for the cover of his book, someday, maybe, who knows…)

Jasper (Underfell Sans):

He likes working with his hands, making things and having something to show for his time and effort. (Knitting? No, that’s, that’s not a hobby, that was a necessity, just for special occasions now, he’s not…naw, c’mon…) He’s something of a car guy. He likes engines and wheels and pistons and how they all work together to make something that goes fast, and he likes understanding how all the pieces fit together and how to fix them if something breaks. It’s something he practiced Underground with busted old engines and bikes that fell down, and a career he pursued on the Surface, but even in his free time he likes tuning up his car, his bro’s car, restoring glory to a classic bike he got at a steal of a price and she’s gonna purr like a kitten when he’s done—he’s just…happy, with his hands buried in an engine and grease all over his face.

And speaking of grease on his face, he’s pretty passionate about food, too. Not so much the cooking of it, though he’s not too shabby in the kitchen when he puts the effort in, but more the eating of it and appreciating the flavors and textures. He’s got a lot of strong opinions on how done a steak oughta be (medium-rare), what belongs on pizza (anything but candy), and how to eat chips with your sandwich (in it, for that extra crunch of texture). ‘Gourmet’ sounds a little too snobby for his tastes, food doesn’t have to be expensive to be good and in fact, it usually isn’t—some of his best meals have been from holes in the wall—but he does like going out to such places to eat and socialize, maybe have a chat and give his compliments to the chef (and definitely not try to wheedle any recipes), that sorta thing.

But after all that, when he really wants to wind down, there’s nothing he likes better than a bit of gaming. He’s not much for multiplayer, he prefers doing his own thing at his own pace, but he likes having some kind of objective and making it happen. It gives a nice sense of accomplishment that he can get while sitting down—which is great. He tends mostly towards puzzle/adventure type games more than pure battle scenarios and beat-‘em-ups, he feels like there should be some strategy and skill involved, or the satisfaction of the win just doesn’t come through as strong. (Protip: do not watch this man defeat a Dark Souls boss if you are easily stressed out. He taunts between strikes and dodges at the very last second because he’s got the timing down to a science. Maybe try Pokemon or Zelda instead…)

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus):

His first great love is and likely always shall be the theater. He didn’t have too many opportunities Underground to go see live stage plays, but he’s long since broken the spine of the collected works of Shakespeare that got him started and memorized its contents, water-stained cover to water-stained cover. He can recite any of the Bard’s work by act and scene number, of which he is incredibly proud, but he’s at least passing familiar with a handful of other manuscripts or popular stage-to-film adaptations mass produced enough to have a chance of ending up in the Dump in decent condition. On the Surface, he definitely wants to see some things live and gets only a reasonable amount of excited about specific productions’ quirks and narrative choices. Joining in on local theater himself? Well…he’s very busy these days… (Maybe after retirement?)

Another passion of his pulled from the depths of the Dump is his guitar—a bass so sturdy and lucky that it made it all the way down without breaking a string. He thought it was cool as soon as he saw it and really wanted to have it and learn how to play. It’s been an uphill struggle since he’s entirely self-taught with regards to his equipment settings, guitar maintenance, and even reading music notes, but the few sparse instruction manuals he’s managed to find were helpful. His own stubborn determination to figure it out and be the kind of cool guy who knows how to play bass has taken him a long way, and he’s starting to make some deep, pleasant sounds that he’s very happy about… But he’s still nowhere near ready to play for anyone, he couldn’t possibly, not until he’s good at it!

And when he’s having a bad time at that, or anything else is ticking him off and there’s no better outlet to blow off steam, he knows he can always fall back on a good work-out. Even in a Kill or Be Killed sort of place, it’s not always a good idea to go picking fights and yelling and cussing and beating the stuffing out of other people—so whenever he feels like doing that, he’s in the habit of beating the stuffing out of a punching bag instead, or lifting weights, or doing one-handed push-ups, something strenuous. He may not be a machine made of meat that releases good-feeling chemicals after a successful exertion, like humans are, but he still feels great after getting to work out and clear his mind of everything but what his body’s doing so he likes to keep up a regular routine. You don’t want to see him after he’s missed a few work-outs, he gets very testy.

Mal (Swapfell Sans):

Pretty much from the moment he came into existence, he’s loved math. Call him a nerd all you like, but numbers are his happy place, where everything is straightforward and exactly what it’s supposed to be and if he doesn’t understand something, he’s probably only missing a variable and when he finds it, everything will make sense again. He has apps and workbooks around with equations for him to solve in his downtime like some kind of freak, but lacking those he’ll sometimes just make up his own math problems and try to solve them in his head—how long will it take for the water cooler to be empty if the tap is dripping at a regular interval of one drop every forty-seven seconds, should no one notice and intervene to repair it? The drum holds up to five gallons, but has already been emptied by approximately—

Okay, that’s enough math. He’s also into whittling, though he’s miles less confident about his ability. He’s not terrible, really, just very self-critical so he tends not to show off the things he makes, but he likes having something to occupy his hands while most of his attention is elsewhere, with the added bonus of having a knife in one of said hands should someone surprise him—self-defense is important, you know! In any case, he’s not as good of an artist as his brother, or even as good as he’d like to be, but it’s something to do and he can only improve with practice. Someday, with the proper equipment, he might even get into full-on woodworking, with chairs and tables and cabinetry and such that are far more straightforward to make than fiddly little figurines, but for now he just has a whittling knife and wood and too much stubbornness to quit at anything once he’s started.

As for something a little (debatably) higher-brow, he also has an interest in wine. He’s no sommelier, of course, but he’s run in fancy (royal) circles for long enough to have tried his fair share of fermented fruit juices. There are some he likes (dry reds), some he doesn’t (sweet whites), and plenty in between—but the topic makes for excellent conversation at lots of dinner parties and formal occasions, so he felt it helpful to learn a few things here and there so he knows (or can pass as knowing) what he’s talking about. On the Surface, he actually gets to take a wine tasting class and put a formal polish on his book-learning and first-hand experience, and makes a point of trying new brands that catch his attention. (He’ll never admit it aloud, but he’s far more swayed by a cool label or an interesting bottle shape than a high price tag—even cheap wine tastes just fine if you aerate it!)

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus):

He’s an artist, first and foremost. His most frequent medium is pen and paper—it’s what he started with and what he’s practiced the most—but it’s never really occurred to him to limit himself to only one thing so he’s tried out a lot of different techniques and utensils and can use most of them effectively. He’s not formally taught, seen some pictures and read some textbook entries of famous pieces and art movements, but everything he’s learned he learned by screwing around with it until he figured out how to make it look like he wanted and in the process, he’s built up a pretty strong base of skills. Mostly, he likes to draw (or sketch or paint) things he’s seen, recreating memories like a photo without a camera, but sometimes he goes on more abstract style experiments, trying to express a vibe or a feeling more than a moment. He finds it meditative, grounding more than anything else he’s tried to relax and it makes him happy to have a creative outlet.

As far as other ways to relax and have fun, something that’s really blossomed on the Surface for him is his interest in fidget toys. Not too many made it Underground for him to enjoy then, just a lonely broken palm-tangle and about a hundred Rubik’s cubes in various states of disrepair—sadly he got so good at solving the cubes that he doesn’t even consider them puzzles, just color-block-pattern simulators—but the Surface! There’s so many stim and fidget toys for him to get his hands on, and so many Ultimate Super Satisfying Compilation vids online to show him new ones. Poppers, spinners, chewelry, clickers…some hit better than others but he likes trying things out, playing with toys that are brightly colored, or feel cool, or make a nice sound. He keeps his favorites and sells or donates the rest, gotta make sure to leave room somewhere if he wants to get a new one.

He also makes a point of walking to the stores and donation centers and post offices at which he exchanges these items because—at the risk of making him sound like a dog—he loves going on walks! He was a shut-in for awhile, afraid of strangers outside, and to an extent he still is (social anxiety), but the Surface has different rules and for a lot of reasons, it feels safer for him to be out and about now, and he likes taking advantage of that. Fresh air and sun and slow, easy movement without having to look over his shoulder, free attention to spare to his surroundings and the chance to stop somewhere and check out a new place… He really likes it and tries to make time to go on a walk at least once every couple of days, destination entirely optional.

Slate (Horrortale Sans):

He’s a rock guy, and he’s not talking about the music genre—just rocks, or crystals, the kind you find in and on the ground. He likes the pun potential (ask any geologist, there’s a million) but also it’s just something fun and low-stakes to do, to collect and find and examine stones and crystals whenever he happens to come across them. A lot of his facts and knowledge base predate the head injury, too, so it’s something he tends to know a good amount about and can have a high-level conversation about at length, of which he’s very proud. Plus, having a bunch of rocks around doubles as both home décor and paperweights, so you gotta admire the versatility of it. He's always on the lookout for new stones to add to his collection, or to talk about and pebble—I mean, gift to his friends and family.

He’s an animal lover as well, which is…not much of a transition from the previous paragraph. He had a pet rock once, does that bridge the gap? Not really. Ah well. The point is, he likes critters, usually ones smaller than him but that’s not hard since he’s a pretty big guy. His past and the things he’s done don’t matter to animals, all they care about is whether he’s an immediate threat (he isn’t) and if he has food to give them (likely), and not having to worry about that is a heavy weight off his mind. He can be totally relaxed around animals so he likes spending time around them whenever he gets the chance—fur and fluff is a plus but he’s got nothing against scales and feathers, creatures come as you are and he’ll get you some water and a treat and maybe a scritch.

But if he must be around humans, or other sentient beings (he must, he’s not built for social isolation), then magic is the ace he keeps up his sleeve. Not the real stuff, of course… Though he’ll naturally be happy to show an interested onlooker a bullet or two, real magic is something any monster can do, even if they were literally born yesterday. He likes fake magic, sleight of hand tricks and misdirection—disappearing and reappearing coins, spoon bending, levitating cards—y’know, the cheap gimmicky shit. It’s fun to learn and easy to practice, works very well with a lot of skills he already had. It also has the additional plus of being disarming for anyone who might be a little…intimidated by him, his size and spooky appearance, especially if he can’t get a joke out quick enough to show he’s harmless, so he likes picking up new tricks when he can and showing them off when he’s got ‘em right.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus):

He loves to cook! He’s gotten a lot better at it since the old days, trying to learn from Undyne’s lessons and it’s become a genuine passion for him to hone his skills in the kitchen and then (hopefully) show off to guests and friends and family who come over to share a meal. He considers it something of a puzzle in its own right—how to use these ingredients to get the most nutritional value with as little wasted as possible. He’s figured out a lot of ways to repurpose bits that usually get thrown out and in some cases, even make more tasty meals with the castoff pieces (his veggie-peel soup stock is to die for…not literally, but it’s very good)! His favorite part is naturally when people eat what he makes and shower him in compliments, but a close second is knowing that he’s fed his loved ones and they won’t ever leave his home hungry.

Since he does so much in the kitchen and, for the first time in a long time, he has an unfrozen yard for two or three quarters of a year and easy access to seeds, he’s also taken up gardening. Mostly, he grows his own vegetables and herbs but he has the space and the inclination so there’s plenty of colorful flowers in the mix too. He’s very attentive to his crops and flowerbeds and does everything his plants need to flourish and bloom. He delights in praise for his good work and the gratitude when he has a big enough harvest to share with friends and neighbors, or maybe to donate to the local food bank if they’re willing to take it. His garden is his pride and joy and no dirt or weather or pests will stop him from maintaining it!

Now he does have one hobby that’s just for his own enjoyment, not even peripherally related to others, and it’s pure unadulterated guilty pleasure: he adores watching soap operas. The more theatrical and contrived, the better, he can’t help but get sucked into the cheesy drama of it all. He started with just one hospital show and kept watching to tut and shake his head over inaccuracies, and then there was another show on after it that had a wild opening hook, and then…and then… Alas, he found the telenovelas. His enjoyment of them is only somewhat hampered by his inability to understand Spanish, but you’d be surprised how much you can glean from context clues and some things transcend language—it’s too late for him now, he’s recording every episode that airs during the day to watch later, he must know if Gloria’s twin sister will run away with her amnesiac fiancé!

Ash (Undergloom Sans):

Music’s the big one for him. He’s very low-energy and when you’re both depressed and physically fragile, it’s not always possible to go out to where other people are, even when you want to—but music can come to you, no matter how bad you’re feeling, and for that it’s become a huge pillar in his life. His favorite genre is classical (can’t get more classic than The Classics), but he’ll listen to most things, though he’ll always want a physical copy of it to keep if he likes it. CDs, tapes, even vinyl records, digital file only just doesn’t cut it for him. He plays his own music too, rarely with sheet music and mostly just riffing whatever feels right at the time. His trusty trombone is more than just a vehicle for incidental music, it’s like a pal that’s always been there for him even if he didn’t have the energy for it sometimes, and he makes sure to keep it in prime condition.

On his better days—of which he’s been having a lot more since reaching the Surface—he very much loves to be around people and one of his favorite things to get to do with those people is play games, board games to be specific. Monopoly might get a little too violent for his tastes, but stuff like Scrabble, Sorry!, Jenga, all up his alley. It takes a mix of skill and luck to win, which keeps things interesting, and barring a snack break or a celebratory dance of some kind, can be enjoyed entirely sedentarily, which is excellent. He probably shouldn’t be allowed to play cards (he counts them), and his brother swears he weighs dice (he doesn’t), but everything else is fair game and he likes having something he can shine at while also getting to hang out with friends.

But when he’s at home, or he can’t find a group to hang with, he spends a good amount of time cloud-gazing. Not star-gazing, though the sky and the stars are beautiful of course, but his interest is in the atmosphere, on the weather. There weren’t too many weather conditions to be found Underground—snow and rain and hot, basically—and the descriptions he’d heard and read of the kind of stuff that happened on the Surface had always captured his imagination. Clouds, storm cells, fog? It was interesting, and he read about a lot of atmospheric conditions without ever really expecting to see any for himself… but he’s actually up here now. And here, he’s the type of guy who owns a barometer, watches live Doppler radar feeds with rapt interest, and can tell you if it’s going to rain without even checking the weather app, just by taking a look up. His interest in meteorology actually has some practical applications now, go figure.

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus):

He’s a cook, and though that may not be his job title, he takes it almost as seriously as if it was. For him, it’s both a passion and a language, a way to reach out to people and connect when there aren’t words—or when there are, but they’re not enough. He thinks of every meal he makes as a gift for the person he’s making it for and as such, it’s not enough for it to just be good food—it should be personalized to suit the recipient’s tastes, bespoke to what they like! That said, he primarily cooks comfort foods, stuff loaded with butter and cheese and salt because that’s what his depressed and struggling loved ones seem to like the most. It’s not always to his tastes, but it’s a point of great pride for him to have dinners at his home feeling like the end of Thanksgiving, everyone full and content and at risk of dozing off on the sofa.

He takes such pride in his cooking that he makes most everything from scratch, and that’s how he got into canning. To get to be such a good cook and to have such a discerning palate, you start to get a bit dissatisfied with store-bought spreads, and you start thinking of how you could tweak it, just a bit, and come up with something a little better. And well, of course he has a sweet tooth and doesn’t he deserve to gift himself a treat from time to time? Which is not to say he doesn’t share his jams and jellies and preserves when he gets to making them—which is anytime there’s a good sale on fruit—but at the risk of making him sound arrogant, he’s absolutely spoiled himself for even the big brands at the store. Sure, he could buy it, as-is, or he could make it and enhance the flavor with a bit of mint or cinnamon or whatever it’s begging for, exactly to his liking. …He does go through quite a lot of jars, though.

So it’s a good thing that he knows all the best home goods stores in the area to buy mason jars, and loyalty perks at every one that offers them because he’s such a frequent customer. He’s very particular about the way his home is decorated and spends a lot of time and effort into cultivating just the right homey, comfortable, clean vibe for the space, so of course he’s always thinking of ways to use his décor to do just that. He doesn’t like a static environment so he frequently moves things around, takes away old things, and adds new ones—scented candles, decorative bowls, accent pieces, really anything that catches his eye-socket. He’s a natural-born homemaker, really, it's a shame he doesn’t have a spouse to appreciate all his talents (yet~).

Brick (Horrorfell Sans):

Okay well now knitting is a hobby of his, now that he’s too big and scary to give a shit what anyone thinks about his yarn-crafting. It’s a skill from before the head injury (and the Everything Else) so it’s not like having to pick up a new skill and something you can be competent at is always nice. He finds it pretty relaxing too, if he’s honest with himself, and grounding—between the repetitive motions and the tangible product of his effort and time having passed, it’s a good go-to for him when he’s stressed and needs to calm down, or when he’s disoriented and has to reorient onto something real. It’s a pretty nice side-hustle too, selling what he makes online, but even if it wasn’t for someone, he’d still knit for himself.

…But it’s maybe not so much of a side-hustle because he doesn’t really have a main-hustle to be doing his knitting on the side of. He mostly hangs around the house as an unemployed self-employed bum. And if you’re bored, in the house, it’s probably only a matter of time before you notice something that needs attention, something broken or askew or in need of a fresh coat of something, and that’s what happened to him, and how he started getting into a lot of DIY home repair. He’s got a background in a lot of technical and mechanical stuff, the confidence to poke around in unfamiliar things, and he certainly has the time, so he’s become something of an all-purpose handyman, regularly sweeping the place to see if there’s something he can fix or tune up. Leaky faucet in the kitchen? Engine maintenance on his bro’s car? Heating ducts making a weird noise? No problem, he’ll check it out, probably an easy enough fix.

He doesn’t stay cooped up in the house all the time though. …Most of it, maybe, but he likes to sit out on the porch or hang in the yard sometimes and get a front row seat to all the wildlife lurking around. He keeps a bird-feeder topped up so the birds always come by, and he’s maybe not so diligent about making sure the bird-feeder doesn’t also become a squirrel-feeder, so there’s a few of them around, too. He has a bad habit of leaving food out for neighborhood strays—cats—and every now and again he’ll catch one and get it fixed, but the food’s also lured in a few other critters it wasn’t meant for. He shoos away the raccoons and possums and (on a couple occasions) foxes that end up on his doorstep, but he likes seeing them so he probably won’t ever really stop. There’s a local murder of crows who bring him offerings of bottle caps and buttons and other junk, and he’s half-convinced they worship him as a god but that’s definitely not going to his head or anything, don’t worry.

King (Horrorfell Papyrus):

He likes to meditate. That’s perhaps an understatement, he needs to meditate—even after abdicating his throne and resuming a civilian life, on the Surface with food and safety and funds aplenty, he has a lot of stress and on any given day, he’s wound tight as a spring. Old habits die hard, and old guilt and pain and fear die harder, and he has a tough time relaxing naturally. Having a set time and routine to sit and breathe and clear his mind, deliberately, is crucial for him. He’s got a room set aside just for it with only related paraphernalia—meditation music, incense holder, a zen garden—inside, a space empty of distractions where he can just relax and let everything else go. It’s either that or be more open and vulnerable in therapy and the latter’s not happening any time soon, so his meditation room is the only thing standing between him and a mental breakdown.

That’s a humorous exaggeration, of course. He also has his bonsai trees, which serve a similar function. He got his first around the same time he took up meditation, thinking it might just be a nice plant to set the ambiance, but as he started caring for it and cultivating it, it grew (pun not intended, how dare you?) into its own thing. He’s got lots of bonsais now and takes great deliberate care in their soil, their water, and meticulous pruning to keep them all growing healthy and strong and in exactly the way they should. There might be something to be said there about power and control and healthy, positive outlets to explore those needs, but for him they’re just his trees—his responsibility, his to keep alive, his to keep in line… And it’s nice to have plants in the house, they really add something to a space, don’t you think?

Something else he’s into that’s slightly more social is chess. He learned a lot about tactics and strategy during and in the lead-up to his reign, both from books and hard experience, and chess is a strategist’s game—all about studying the field of play and your opponent and thinking ahead to achieve your desired outcome. He started by playing against his brother, learning the game and gaining confidence, and then later against Toriel while he conspired to overthrow Undyne, which taught him more about thinking like a warrior monarch and how to strategize against one. Ever since, chess has been his preferred way to get to know someone and he finds the insight into a person’s thoughts (through their choices and idle conversation during the game) to be an invaluable asset. …It’s also somewhat fun, enriching he supposes, or else he probably wouldn’t keep so many chess sets in the house, or regularly go to the park to seek opponents at the public boards. But what business is that of yours?

Merc (Horrorswap Sans):

His physical…situation…is complicated. Until he gets his DT under control, he starts literally melting down whenever his emotions are too high which means that most of the things he would’ve done before for fun and exercise are out. His solution to that is yoga, a low-stress, low-impact way to stretch and move and keep his body functional, without the risk of upsetting himself and others by turning into a puddle! Going through the forms helps him focus his mind and ground him in his body at the same time, which he loves, and it’s something he can do solo or in a group, which is also great depending on his mood and need. He attends a studio at least semi-regularly, whenever there’s a class going on, and he loves it as a way to meet new people and socialize in a low-key way. Even after his melting problem gets sorted, he keeps the yoga as a part of his life and routine—it works for him, even when a lot of other things didn’t!

Escapism has also always been there for him: the sci-fi flavored genre specifically. He’s been in pretty dire need for distractions to take his mind off his condition and his frustratingly slow-going research, and fiction was a great fit, depictions of far-future times when technology is advanced but people are still people and the problems of today are all solved and done with—just the problems of tomorrow left to solve and there’s always hope somewhere out there in the universe. Yeah…he can use a little bit of that. Back Underground, he’d seen a few popular sci-fi series that managed to fall down—Star Trek, Star Wars, and a few others—but he falls back into it hard on the Surface when he discovers that the full collections are available, usually remastered and listed out in chronological order, and so many other fans to talk to about it, wow! And oh, the merch, so much merch… He’s only a mortal man, how is he meant to resist a phone case designed to look like a communicator from The Original Series? Or a replica of Obi-Wan Kenobi’s lightsaber? Or… Okay maybe he’s just enough of a nerd for it verge on a financial problem but he’s having fun, let him have this.

It's not like he’s not bringing in a paycheck, with his little home bakery business. He’s gotten serious about his baking and really ramped up his technical skill, and good flavor and texture is surely a way to keep a customer base, but he wanted to draw in the new customers and for that, he had to get good at decorating. As an amateur, he didn’t care so much if his frosting was a little messy, or really try to do anything at all beyond maybe some food coloring and sprinkles here and there, but in the interest of trying to elevate his business to the next level, he started experimenting more with design techniques—and he discovered he loves it! It takes a lot of skill and precision to execute on top-notch cake décor and he likes the challenge of learning something new and perfecting it until he’s ready to offer it as a technique to his customers. He’s the king of drip cakes, master of mirror glazes, and has the cleanest foil and luster work you will ever see. He’ll tackle geode cakes next, just you wait!

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus):

He used to hate spooky shit. Horror movies, ghost stories, creepy stuff meant to send a shiver up your spine and make your heart (if you have one) skip a couple beats—he couldn’t handle it and any hubris otherwise would leave him looking at pictures of kittens trying to forget about it so he could sleep. But then… Wouldn’t you know it, then he lived through a horror: a terrible creature from another world came to his sleepy little town and killed seemingly everybody they could find, and he survived but the world changed, and everyone went hungry, his best friend disappeared, his brother started melting and he almost died and then came back wrong… And now the fake spooky stuff doesn’t seem so bad. Actually it’s…kinda fun? Scary stories and creepypastas still freak him out, a little, but his tolerance for it has gone up considerably and now he seeks out the genre on purpose, to create and consume, because it feels a little good to get scared by something fake instead of all too real.

His new interest in horror turned him on to movies in general. Not that he didn’t like watching movies before, but being especially invested in a specific genre got him reading about analyses of themes and filming techniques, lighting and staging and all the behind-the-scenes choices made in casting and shooting, and he loves being able to point those things out. Watching a movie with him, any movie, will probably trigger a film-buff monologue about something—‘oh see that’s a long shot, they do that when they’re trying to…’, ‘that’s not cg by the way, it’s actually a matte painting and…’, ‘y’know that scene when he kicked the helmet, it turns out he…’ et cetera, et cetera. He’s not trying to be a bore or a know-it-all, he’s actually just really interested in the way all these things, choices or accidents, come together to make a movie and he can talk about it for ages…or complain about it, if it happens to be a crappy movie. He does so love to complain…

Throughout all of this, if his attention isn’t split by his laptop, he’s usually keeping his hands busy another way—with origami. He’s almost always got a lot of scrap paper lying around in reach and for lack of anything better to do, he’ll grab a piece and start folding it. He started screwing around with those notebook edges left over after you tear out a page, but those are messy and ran out of folds real quick, so eventually he looked up some deliberate things to make out of paper and even bought some origami paper specifically for practice and nicer looking results. He’s pretty good at hopping frogs and flapping cranes, and who can’t make a boat, but his go-to is definitely the little stars you make out of the long strips. He’s got a big jar of the stars and keeps making more to add to it, not for any reason, really, but…it’s fun to make ‘em and they look pretty so why not?

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans):

He’s a thrill-seeker. Not necessarily the death-defying stunt kind—though he cheated death once already and might be a bit cockier about his odds the next time around than he ought to be—but any thrill, even the cheap ones. He spent a lot of time Before hedging his bets and prioritizing just about everything but himself, and now he’s decided to spend the rest of his time doing the opposite, chasing excitements and novelties and things he was too cautious or restrained or just too spartan to go after. He seeks out new restaurants, trendy bars, relationships, activities, anything that catches his fancy at the moment. A lot of the things he tries out don’t stick, falling by the wayside after the luster of ‘exciting and new’ wears off—you really only need to try a PB&J burger the once, and if you’ve ridden one mechanical bull, you’ve ridden them all—but some things make an impression.

Boxing is one of the things that stuck for him. He always worked out to stay in good condition and it was a habit he kept up on the Surface, joining a local gym as soon as possible for access to the weights and the punching bag. Fisticuffs was a last resort for him when dealing with actual problems, but hitting things was a great way to blow off steam—and as repressed as he was, he had a lot of steam to blow off, so his form and footwork was always top-notch. He got noticed for it, invited to spar in the ring, and to keep a short story short, he loved it. It’s a challenge being blind in a fistfight, but in a very positive way for him, giving him a chance to use his reflexes and his soul-sense to take on his opponents and most of the time, win. It’s a visceral, almost primal pleasure for him to get to fight in a reasonably safe arena, with people who are also fighting for love of the sport and no aim to seriously injure or kill, like a dance but with someone who wants to knock you out and vice versa.

And speaking of dancing, he’s very fond of that as well for similar, yet less violent reasons. He doesn’t really dance solo, simply for joy of the music—his enjoyment is almost exclusively in the partnered activity, when he has someone to match steps and mirror movement with and combine his awareness of his body and theirs into a cohesive picture. He likes the give and take of it, the way that he can have a physical experience with someone, a conversation without a single word being spoken, all from movement and synchronicity with whoever’s signed his dance card. He knows a few formal dances already and hasn’t forgotten the steps so he’s well-prepared for a polite ballroom experience… but he’s also learned how to let his metaphorical hair down lately, and a bit of dirty dancing is hardly off the table, should his partner for the evening (or afternoon, morning, midnight) be so inclined.

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus):

What happened Underground sent him into probably the worst art-block of his life. Even picking up a pen got hard to do with anything more than the intent to jot down a note for himself and he spent entirely too long with utterly dry wells of inspiration, not creating anything at all. In a desperate attempt to rekindle something creative, he ended up searching ‘art ideas’ online and discovered the vast world of craft projects. It was easier for him to actually make something when he had step-by-step guides and didn’t have to draw on his own (lacking) inspiration, and he quickly gained a liking for what he could make out of things he already had lying around the house and art supplies that were collecting dust—coffee-filter peonies, paper-straw wreaths, tin-can organizers, et cetera. He likes upcycling and getting to find use in things that might otherwise be discarded, and he really enjoys getting to put his own personal touch into crafts inspired from the internet.

He's proud enough of his works, in fact, that he wanted to show them off and—lacking real-life friends—he started posting photos of his crafts online. The response was positive but eventually, he started getting dissatisfied with the quality of the pictures he was taking, fuzzing details or altering colors, and he began looking into ways to improve the shots he was taking, lighting techniques, camera settings, angles and framing… By the time he invested in his own high-quality camera (and read the manual, front to back), he was seeing art everywhere, not just in the things he made but in the light through trees on a misty morning, in the waft of a curtain by an open window, in the people walking along the sidewalk out in front of the house. He has an eye-socket for it now and he’s always considering The Perfect Shot, how to capture the beautiful moments happening all the time with his photography. He’s good and getting better all the time, the more he practices his staging and editing.

He definitely wants to diversify his portfolio, though. Of course, he’s great at capturing domestic scenes, being a shut-in and all, but there’s more out there in the world, to see and photograph and be part of. It takes him awhile to get there but once he does, he’s very passionate about traveling. He spent such a long time stuck—first Underground, and then in his home on the Surface—and his scenery and his experiences were limited, but once he’s free there’s so much new and beautiful and exciting that he can access and he loves being able to pack up and go to it, right where it is. He wants to fill a passport and see unique vistas all over the globe, learn about cultures there, and make meaningful memories attached to every picture he takes.

Sunny (Gastertale Sans):

He likes stories, not the kind that come from a book, necessarily, but the stories people tell. The subject doesn’t matter to him much—folklore, local legends, big fish tales, ‘you’ll never believe what happened to me last week’s and more—it’s really the telling of it that he likes, how people describe what happened for an audience of their friends, family, or even strangers. He especially likes hearing the same story from different people to see how they tell it differently with their own perspectives or details that were unique to the version they heard. He’s always got a metaphorical ear open for a good yarn and a great memory for the stories people tell him, to the point that he can dispense them on cue whenever conversation’s slow, but he’s got plenty of his own experiences to make tales out of too, and the charisma and flair to make the telling entertaining.

This is a skill that comes majorly in handy for one of his other favorite hobbies, tabletop gaming. Whether he’s setting the scene for a D&D party he’s DMing for or keeping conversation going while he shuffles a deck for rummy, he loves having a table of people together to talk and play a game (or two, or three) with. It’s hard to get schedules to line up so he almost always has a few different game nights going on at any given time, in rotation depending on who can make what—and luckily, he’s a social butterfly so if someone cancels, getting substitutes to hang and make friends with over a game of something or other is never too difficult for him. He’ll go anywhere but his preference is hosting himself, he just loves having people over and showing them a good old fashioned time!

And speaking of old fashioned, his fashion is a little bit that as well. He’s a tad all over the place with it but nonetheless very interested in vintage and retro styles—the bold neon windbreakers of the 80s, the dated digital graphic tees of the 90s, the vinyl of the 00s, and even the holographics of the 10s. He tends to get a little confused about what was popular when and maybe that’s why he meshes it all together, but regardless, he loves his very eclectic wardrobe and adding to it. He makes a lot of trips to thrift stores and checks often on resale sites and gets very excited whenever he stumbles across a good find. Jackets are his favorite and he definitely has too many, but they spark joy and he’s probably not going to get rid of any or quit shopping around for more of the old school stuff anytime soon.

Aster (Gastertale Papyrus):

He likes scrapbooking! Maybe not too surprising, but as someone who mysteriously came into existence one day with no memory of his past, he doesn’t like the idea of losing memories—at least, not any more memories than he’s already apparently lost. He likes keeping records of things he does and that happen in his life as a tangible proof of his existence in and impact on the world. He stores things digitally as well but having the physical album feels weightier and more permanent, so he takes great care assembling and arranging everything in it. He keeps photos of outings with friends and coworkers, fliers from lectures he attends, even receipts from restaurants and movie ticket stubs. It’s all extremely well organized and annotated to the point that it almost reads like a scientific article, but he has fun with the cutting and pasting and aesthetic arrangement of it all—a neat and tidy accounting of (as much of) his life (as he can remember).

It's probably no coincidence that his scrapbook resembles a science journal, though, because he reads a lot of them. He also attends lectures and conferences when available and open to the public because, though he doesn’t have a career in any field of science, he’s still quite passionate about it! He loves learning about new advancements and discoveries, and when he comes across something he doesn’t know or only knows a bit about, he tends to do his own research into relevant readings on the topic until he’s better informed. He loathes misinformation and willful ignorance though, and as a result he’s ended up in a few small scale social media wars where he arrives on a post with thorough corrections, arguments, and sources cited and continues to present the accurate information until he’s respectfully acknowledged or blocked. It’s…usually the latter, but he doesn’t mind a good argument and ad hominem attacks slide right off him, so…as long as he’s having fun, what does it matter?

However…for all his love of truth and fact, he is also—regrettably—truly, madly, deeply compelled by the paranormal. If asked directly, he would say that of course he doesn’t believe in (non-monster) ghosts or aliens or the supernatural, there’s no evidence of such things! At least…nothing credible. He’s read the first and second-hand accounts, reviewed the blurry inconclusive photos, entertained hypotheticals of what could have really caused the sighting or scenario in question, accounting for variables and probing with his own questions to determine more information. He may occasionally be inclined to physically visit some ‘hot spots’ or sites of infamy, just to get a better understanding of the location and potential factors in what’s been claimed… But! Obviously, he’s a devil’s advocate in this only, as intriguing as some of these concepts are, that’s all they are—concepts. The fact that he spends so much time and thought on such things does not at all validate them and it simply means that he is a man of both integrity and science, the real kind!

Spectr (Transcendtale Sans):

He likes swimming! Er…well…maybe that’s not the right word for it. It’s not diving either, really, it’s… He likes going to bodies of water, walking in, and staying under for awhile, there, that’s a more accurate description of it. He’s waterproof and he doesn’t need to breathe, so ducking under the surface for a good few hours is not only possible, but a great way to get near-total peace and quiet for however long he wants it. He wasn’t much of a swimmer when he had an organic body, so it’s a bit of a novelty as well—seeing the way things look underwater, the way sounds change, the way animals swim around him in their natural habitat. He finds being in the water to be very relaxing and pleasant, almost meditative in nature, and whenever he’s feeling especially tense or in need of some space to think (or not think), he’ll head to the nearest body of water and go right in. It would be better if he actually took his clothes off before he did this, but he usually doesn’t and has weirded many clothes with lake or sea water.

He’s also into urban exploration. Not that he specifically calls it that, but he’s a wanderer and he likes to keep a low profile so sometimes, when he happens to be in the heart of a big city and there’s nowhere anonymous enough for him to blend in, he disappears into closed, abandoned, or condemned buildings. He likes the quiet of places like these and the reduced likelihood of running into anyone trying to interact with him because nobody else is supposed to be there. Obviously sometimes people are there anyway, but usually it’s people who mind their own business or actively avoid him, which he’s completely fine with. He does also enjoy having a look around when there’s time and he can, getting to see the remnants of the people who used the building before, what they left behind and imagining what it would be like if it were actively in use. A lot of the places he gets into have nice views of the city outside, too, and it’s pleasant to find a ledge or some rebar to sit on and enjoy it.

Jewelry making came out of his preferred hangout spots, as well. There’s a lot of junk lying around in abandoned or in-construction buildings—chain-link fences, washers, nuts and bolts—and when one is sitting around in an empty spot in the early morning, waiting for the city to wake up so he can slip through the masses undetected again, one gets to fiddling with nearby things in reach. He’s no master jeweler, his creations tend to be very simple, metal bent and twisted by hand in loops and curls, maybe a shape if he’s feeling ambitious, but he likes making them regardless. Sometimes he’ll keep an eye out for interesting stones and hold onto them to incorporate them into one of his pieces, or pick up a bit of nicer wire to work with if he’s going to be passing through a more rural area where it won’t be so easily available. He never keeps the rings and necklaces and bracelets he makes, though, just leaving them on tables and benches and railings for someone else to find later. It’s the making that’s the important part to him, he doesn’t need the thing.

PapAIrus (Transcendtale Papyrus):

He’s a proud and passionate DJ for partiers everywhere! He kind of fell into it, or at least into the idea of it when figuring out how to approach humanity and be a part of it, and he learned that it’s quite common for musical artists to have gimmicks that hide their real faces and identities. It seemed like it’d be easy to blend in, in a crowd like that, and when he found out about vocaloids and holographic performers he was all but sold on giving it a go. It didn’t take him long to learn how to mix songs and with a theoretically infinite track list to draw on, he’s a natural talent at playing the crowd and keeping the energy in a room high. He loves DJing for nightclubs and raves the most, but he’s starting to gain a bit of fame and notoriety for both his talent and his very advanced ‘avatar’ and might end up dropping some of his own music and playing to larger venues sooner than later.

In his spare time, of which he has a lot, he likes the challenge of hunting down lost media. He has full access to the internet as well as several archives he probably should not have access to, but it’s very hard to keep him out of anywhere he wants to be—luckily, he chooses to use his nigh unfathomable power for good, digging around here, there, and everywhere for things deleted, destroyed, or locked off from the public. It’s like a treasure hunt, following leads and connecting clues until he finds the impossible thing he’s looking for…or doesn’t. Sometimes things that are gone really are gone, but other times it’s just that no one else had the spare time and resources to try and excavate a mention of a grandmother’s VHS copy of an obscure, out of circulation film on a deleted forum post from ten years ago, track down the user, ask after the tape and offer to purchase it to convert to a digital format…and if that doesn’t pan out, the search begins anew! How exciting!

His do-gooding doesn’t end at tracking and restoring old tapes, though, and he likes to spare some time for bigger acts of justice now and again. He’s a part-time hacktivist—he takes note of ongoing crime and corruption in human society and when he can, he shines a light on it. Leaking emails, posting blacklisted videos, releasing incriminating financial records, he has little respect for the privacy of crooked CEOs and corrupt politicians and feels it’s only right that their customers and constituents know these things about the people they’re supporting. His intervention tends to lead to a lot of resignations and restructuring and legal action being pursued, so he tries not to overstep too much with the business of humans, especially not for any old small-fry in the pond…but the big fish, the guys in the news with allegations that don’t stick because of money lack of evidence… Well, he doesn’t mind digging up that evidence, if the proper authorities really lack the time for it—you’re welcome!

Xanth (Ascendswap Sans):

He’s very into spiritualism and all things mystical. His brush with the cosmically unknowable really expanded his perception and sense of things around him and he’s freshly fascinated by the things in this world beyond mortal comprehension, things he’s only glimpsed and felt more than he clearly understood. He loves reading or hearing about other peoples’ spiritual experiences—near-deaths, out-of-body’s, energies sensed and presences felt and many more—being let into the perspective of others who have been through things not easily explained and maybe getting a chance to share his own oddities in the process. He collects a lot of paraphernalia from the people and places he goes for these things, chakra bracelets, dreamcatchers, crystal pyramids and the like. He freely admits some of his items have stronger energies than others and theorizes that belief and intention in the creation of the object has an effect, you see the aura of this one feels—you get the idea, he could talk about it for hours.

He's also a very big fan of riddles! He knew a few before but has really gotten into them since, diving down the rabbit hole of riddles and tricky word puzzles. He finds the construction of them incredibly interesting, how specific words are chosen and phrases are structured to talk around the answer, carefully ringing around it to imply only and make the listener deduce the truth around its absence—just like how black holes are discovered by observing the warping of space around it! He has lots of riddle books and knows the answers to most of the basic ones out there, and he’s always open to hearing new ones, as well as coming up with some of his own from time to time. He takes his riddling quite seriously and will never look up the answer or allow anyone to tell him before he guesses—he wants to reason it out for himself, even if it takes him days to do it. If you manage to stump him, expect a call later on with the solution and exuberant praise for the gift you gave him!

A far more pedestrian and down-to-earth hobby of his, however, is pottery. Riddling and talking about the cosmos is all well and good, but it’s difficult actually meeting people to do those with—they don’t really have meet-ups for those sorts of things. But! They do have pottery classes, all over the place, welcoming beginners who are generally also open to making friends there, and he decided to go where the people were. It’s probably not something he would’ve been as happy doing before…Everything, reining in the urge to be great at it first try and do clean, neat work to impress people… but he doesn’t really think that way anymore, so he likes it! It's messy and mistakes are easy to make, both on the wheel and in the kiln, but that’s life and he’s learning same as everyone else. He gets to socialize, he gets to make stuff out of clay, and he gets so very many pots and mugs and bowls to give his friends and loved ones—a win-win-win!

Piper (Ascendswap Papyrus):

He never used to put much effort into his wardrobe. He was anxious and introverted and never wanted to stand out too much, so he always aimed for under, rather than over-dressed. …But things changed. He’s more confident, he wants to stand out, he wants to look his best and dress himself in all the nice clothes he always thought he wasn’t cool enough to wear—so now, he does. He keeps his eye-socket on modern fashion trends, subscribing to magazines and tuning in to designer runways so he always knows what’s in and can coordinate his wardrobe accordingly. He's not necessarily a brand snob, he doesn’t subscribe to the idea that clothes (and accessories) need a label to look good, but at the same time, he won’t compromise on quality and sometimes that means paying for it. Still, he has a lot of fun keeping in style and taking more care in how he presents himself, and it turns into something of a confidence feedback loop—feeling good because he looks good because he feels good because…

With his newfound confidence, he’s also gotten into the habit of singing out loud. He hums tunes every now and again, surely everyone does, but now he sings, sometimes softly and sometimes belting out lyrics at full volume to whatever song floats through his head. What can he say? He’s started to like the sound of his own voice and it makes him feel good to hear how he sounds, and to feel how freely and beautifully the notes come out. Maybe it’s a little prideful but he doesn’t see the harm in making music and feeling good about it, so he sings when he’s occupied, when he’s idle, when he’s asked to—no special occasion necessary save for the joy of sound.

Of course, this also gives him something in common with some of his favorite creatures on the planet: birds. He likes animals and tends to be great with them—especially if he happens to use his ‘trick’—but he’s particularly fond of the feathered ones and the pretty sounds they make. He started learning how to mimic bird-calls (now that he’s not too self-conscious to feel stupid about it) and found he has a talent for it, getting all kinds of flighted friends to stop by and sing back when he chirps. He knows a lot of calls and can identify most local bird species by sound and sight, and it’s a favored party trick of his to push a little intent into his whistles and get wild birds to land on his finger like they were trained. He’s actually looking to break into falconry too, so he can keep and train a raptor someday, but there’s a lot of training and regulation involved in that sport and he’s not in any special kind of hurry. Plenty of birds to watch and sing to and play with in the meantime!

Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans):

He’s been on his own for quite awhile. Granted, most of that time was unconscious in a semi-lucid dream-state, but that still left him pretty bereft of any meaningful company for a long damn time. He’s a social guy, he’s gotta make some connections with people at some point or it’s just gonna feed into his main character syndrome, so he starts getting involved in competitive team activities pretty much as soon as possible. At first it’s gaming—multiplayers, with mic enabled of course—when he’s still building his physical health back up, but once he’s clear for it he’s joining up with just about every team sport he can find. The Surface has plenty of options for him to choose from. Paintball? Definitely, get ready to meet your maker. Go-karting? Can’t believe it took so long to ask, let’s go. Axe-throwing? Oh hell yes, you know it! He’s competitive but a mostly good loser and hardly sore winner, so whatever the game he’s all in, just happy to be able to play.

When he’s solo and not actively burning energy, he…probably should be. He overproduces magic like a sonuvabitch, and if he’s not using it, that’s a problem—for him and everyone and everything around him. If he’s lacking something to do with his energy, and no other ways to expend it, the easiest thing to do is make a bunch of bullets. This, naturally, solves one problem while creating another and out of the abundance of bones lying around the place came the elegant solution of building with them. He uses his bone bullets like some (frat house) people use beer cans, stacking them together to make thrones chairs, tables, and towers. Sometimes he’ll jenga these structures, knock ‘em down to reuse the bullets for something else, but sometimes, if he's managed to stack up something particularly impressive, he’ll put in the extra effort to make them structurally sound and keep them as-is.

For all that he’s good at building things up, he takes just as much pleasure in taking them apart. He likes working with his hands, always has, opening something up and poking around inside to figure out what goes on in there. Unfortunately, and he’ll never admit as much out loud, he is…not very strong, physically—the big stuff, heavy duty machinery that takes a decent amount of elbow grease to get into is…a little bit beyond his ability, at least comfortably. By default, that leaves him with the little stuff to tinker with, clocks and watches, TVs and blenders, anything he can get his hands on and pop open without too much work. Clockwork mechanisms are his favorites to work with, the very tangible cause and effect of motion inside, but he’s no slouch with a soldering iron and more fiddly electronics are hardly any trouble. He likes fixing stuff that’s broken but it doesn’t have to be for him to want to disassemble something in working order, just for a quick look. Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing, he’ll put it right back—possibly in better condition than when he found it!

Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus):

He has difficulty finding hobbies for himself, at first. Doing things he enjoys—much less expressing that he enjoyed them—was both forbidden and dangerous, so he’s in unexplored territory without explicit orders to do or not do something. Undyne gets him started with puzzles after noticing that he seemed to like solving them for her on patrols. A jigsaw seems as good as anything to start with, right? Well… yes, very much so, because he loves the medium instantly. One obvious solution (to assemble the pieces into a picture), no time constraint, and no way to do it incorrectly? It’s perfect! He graduates quickly from small, simple jigsaws to large, complex ones and loves being able to sit down with a few thousand pieces and slowly, steadily arrange them the way they’re supposed to be. He was given a massive, single-color monolith of a jigsaw once, as a joke…which completely didn’t land because it only took him a bit longer than usual and he loved it just as much. Go figure.

His brother gave him another hobby, upon remembering that he used to (as a toddler) like scribbling on paper, and gifted him a color-by-number book. It was a little juvenile, involved considerably less problem-solving than puzzles, but that’s really not a bad thing for him, giving him a task to do by rote that appeals to his creative side rather than the militaristic orders he got until that point. Eventually, as he gains independence and starts to feel more comfortable making choices of his own, he ditches the ‘by-number’ part but sticks with coloring, using watercolors and colored pencils to fill in pages of designs with whatever he wants. He finds it very relaxing and satisfying to do, and with encouragement even frames some of the pieces he’s proudest of. Friends and family may expect to receive them as gifts, especially if they’ve complimented one in particular—it’ll be theirs in short order without a second thought.

His most consuming hobby, however, is one he came to on his own: the care and keeping of fish. His first was a betta, a bright red fighting fish, drooping and still in a tiny little cup on a shelf—an impulse purchase he’d be hard-pressed to explain, especially with no animal experience whatsoever, much less specifically fish. But, he did it, and after that it was his responsibility to care for it, so he put in the research to determine its needs, the size of the tank, the pH balance of the water, the food and feeding schedule, environmental enrichment… It was a lot of work getting everything together but the reward in seeing the sad lifeless betta turn bright and active, thriving in the home he’d built for it, that was an addictive feeling. It wasn’t long until he was setting up more tanks, and buying lots more aquatic critters—tetras, cichlids, snails, guppies—to fill them with. He’s an extremely diligent and dedicated fish-dad and likes to sit and watch them swim the way some people watch TV.

Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans):

He knows his way around a needle and thread. He learned to sew out of pride necessity, learning to mend ripped and worn garments rather than having to beg for new on his or his brother’s behalf. It started as the lesser of two evils for him, but eventually he grew to enjoy it—work, of course, to have to close holes and hem and take in this and that, but work that he was generally left alone to do and not bothered for other things. It’s still that, but now that he doesn’t have a panopticon of a mocking prick judging his every action, he’s branching out into a bit more personal flair. He tried felting, with…poor results…but embroidery and needlepoint is working out considerably better. He’s still not especially creative so he prefers to work off patterns rather than freehand anything, and most of the things he stitches aren’t exactly to his own personal style, so a lot of his work gets donated but some things end up on the wall, others as patches for bags and jackets… It’s something to do.

…Making booze is also something to do. He didn’t exactly see it coming, something he kind of fell into. Per his brother’s preference, they’ve made their home in a wooded, mountainous area, and per his own preference, it’s secluded, a ways away from the town proper. Grocery runs every time there’s no more alcohol in the house (because somebody had company over and left a thimble in the bottle without telling anyone) is irritating, especially if he’s just getting home late and nowhere nearby is even open. A lot of locals get around the problem by simply brewing, fermenting, or distilling their own, and after looking into the process, he decided it was more than doable. He’s not much of a beer-drinker and never bothered with that, but he makes some damn good fruit wines if he says so himself, and a moonshine that’ll knock you on your ass if you’re not careful. His little operation is technically illegal—his favorite kind of illegal—but it's all for private use and he keeps to himself when he’s in town so he’s flying pretty low beneath the radar.

He is out of town a lot, mostly for work purposes, and passing through unfamiliar towns on the regular exposed him to quite a lot of postcard kiosks. He would look at them, think about his semi-estranged brother back home and how weird it would be, with their relationship being what it is, to call or text just to say ‘hey’ and… Well, eventually he bought one, scribbled a curt (coded) message on it, and sent it home before he could think better of it. Neither of them ever said anything about it, but he found it later on his desk when he got home with a scrawled reply back to what he’d written, and it kind of just spiraled into a thing from there. Anytime he goes somewhere, he finds a place to pick up a postcard to mail back, and when he gets home he tucks it (and the inevitable addition onto it) away in a binder for safekeeping. He takes a lot of care in the choosing and preservation of these cards and has a sizeable, growing collection.

Hunter (Swapfell Fruition Papyrus):

He’s a runner. There’s almost nothing he likes more than getting outside and taking off, jogging full speed to nowhere in particular until he’s out of breath and covered in sweat. He was cooped up for a long time in between specific missions and keeping pace on a treadmill just can’t compare to the free feeling he gets when he’s completely off-leash and can just go, as fast and as far as he wants to. Sometimes he’ll spice up his runs with a bit of parkour, clearing obstacles or scaling trees to take the branches for awhile, but he’s happy as long as he gets to let loose—sky above him, earth below, and nothing to call him back but his own limitations when he’s totally exhausted or he decides to be done.

For similar reasons, he’s interested in foraging. He likes nature and the outdoors, prefers it to anything indoors bar none, and the longer he can spend out in it without having to make his way back to civilization, the better. So, he started learning about the plants he sees—what’s edible, what’s not, what’s poisonous versus medicinal and so on. A lot of the info about it is geared towards humans rather than bioengineered skeletons so there’s still a learning curve, and a lot of things he's taken it upon himself to test out. He was built with a high metabolism and some natural poison resistance so he’s too cocky to be stopped from doing it, really, no matter how many times he’s called a reckless idiot for touching and ingesting possibly harmful substances. He's made a lot of interesting discoveries with regards to the local flora and only hardly gotten sick about it, so he counts it as a win.

He keeps track of said discoveries in his journal, which he takes out with him whenever he leaves the house for a nature walk (or run). He likes having it handy to note down things he does throughout the day, places he goes, things he sees… He never really got into art, not the way he could’ve, if things had been different, but he can scratch out some decent sketches to fill in the margins of his journal—the path down to the stream he found, the deer that only shed one antler, that berry that definitely did not agree with his metaphorical stomach, do not try again… His memory isn’t bad, exactly, but his mind and feet are both prone to wandering so it’s nice to have a log of his activities to look over later and put together things he missed at the time, or be reminded of stuff he wants to revisit. Most of his journaling is done halfway up a tree, sprawled along a branch with half an eye-socket on the view from up high.

Kohl (Descendtale Sans):

He wasn’t especially interested in plants or flowers, at least not until one started altering him—and the rest of monsterkind—in mind and body. That’s when he got interested and started studying. First the echo flower, its strange properties nearest and dearest to him, but gradually branching out to golden flowers, forevergreens, water sausages, any magical plant he can get his hands on to examine. Non-magical plants are equally fascinating, especially in their potential effects on humans—he knows probably an unsettling amount of flowers and greenery that are toxic to humans, the symptoms caused by contact or ingestion and how long it takes them to appear. Thankfully, he’s not much for the care and keeping of plants as keeping things alive seems like an awful lot of work. Still, he finds them interesting and has lots of botany and anthology books lying around, with leaves and petals dried and pressed between their pages. Did you know that the echo flower’s bioluminescence remains for up to three years after the bloom’s been clipped? Fascinating stuff.

Less of a passion but still at least an idle hobby, he can play a bit of piano. He’s self-taught—plunking out keys on the piano in Waterfall while passing through to entertain himself (and a little bit to annoy Undyne)—but though he can’t read sheet music or play any full length songs, he can tickle out a short tune by sound once he’s heard it at least once. He’s got a good ear for notes, despite not having any actual ears. It may actually be some kind of perfect pitch thing going on in his head but he should not be informed of this ever because he will hang on the word ‘perfect’ and be utterly insufferable about it. Mostly, he just uses this to play a few random notes whenever he comes across a keyed instrument, or to abruptly switch to an impromptu recreation of iconic horror scores to catch people by surprise. The theme from Halloween or the tubular bells from The Exorcist are favorites, but he’s unpredictable enough to learn more if you turn your back on him too long.

What he probably spends the most time on, however, is quilting. Perhaps a bit surprising, with his…everything else about him, but he’s a skeleton who values his creature comforts quite a bit, many of which have been made considerably more difficult for him to enjoy due to the ways his body has changed. In this particular case, it’s his reduced physical sensation making it nearly impossible to feel warm. He’s never cold anymore, not really, but he’s never warm either and he takes that quite personally, almost offended by the uselessness of thin clothing and scraps that dare to call themselves blankets. If there are no blankets thick enough and heavy enough get him warm, he’ll just have to make them himself…and so that’s what he does. Any passingly usable cloth in his possession tends to end up part of a quilt, with little care for patterning or overall design—his only priority is thick and heavy and warm, and if he doesn’t feel like he’s in a panini press by the time he’s finished, then it’s back to the drawing board.

Bram (Descendtale Papyrus):

He maybe went a little bit nuts for awhile there after the human first left. Some might argue that he’s still a little bit nuts but he would agree he was pretty embarrassingly desperate in the first few years after. They were gone and they weren’t answering their phone and for everything they’d done, they had been his friend so…he was worried! But of course, monsters were trapped, with hope of leaving anytime soon soundly dashed, so he couldn’t just go look for them. He wanted to reach them, or just someone on the Surface who could relay a message. That’s how he started experimenting with radio, out of a misguided and impossible attempt to communicate out of the Underground with someone up there. He never reached anyone from down there, of course, but he found some comfort in trying—and eventually, enjoyment too! He likes fiddling with the equipment to tune into different frequencies, and the sound of empty static is soothing to him. It’s a lot more fun now that he’s aboveground and can actually hear other people, and he hopes to get his license to transmit himself soon!

Before the Surface, though, things were a little lonelier for him. Colder, darker. Too dark entirely—of course a dark environment was necessary to promote the growth of their staple crop and the artificial day-cycles were only making monsters waste more time sleeping than they already were, he understood the need for the dark…but surely, it didn’t have to be so complete? How was anyone to know that he was at home and available to host company if there were no warm, inviting lights in the window? Candles seemed the perfect solution, natural light from flickering fires that wasn’t too harsh, still a bit dim but plenty to see by! He started just collecting them so he would always have them on hand if needed, but eventually started making them himself with wax on the stove. Scent or color don’t matter much to him, but he really likes being able to customize the size and shape to his needs. And his needs…aren’t so much anymore, now that there’s regular sunlight, but candles are still great for when there isn’t, and when electric lights are little too intense. It never hurts to have more candles around, for emergencies!

He's also exploring a new hobby up on the surface, inspired by his and his brother’s new careers—bone collecting! Now, it’s not what you’re thinking, he’s not after human bones. Those are still very much in use by the deceased, and he's sure surviving loved ones would be very cross if tried to just take them! But his job was how he learned that humans and other organic, non-magical creatures all contain skeletons of their own and when they die everything but the bone rots away. He thinks it’s very cool and obviously humans are off the table to inspect more closely, but animals don’t mind. He takes note of any dead creatures he happens to find—mostly birds and squirrels—and after allowing the other local wildlife to have first pick at it, he collects the remains to take home. He isn’t overly fond of the smells and textures of rot and asked for his brother to help with the de-fleshing and degreasing with the first few things he brought back, but he's got a handle on it now and loves to artfully display his cleaned finds all around the house. Skulls are his favorite, but he has some lovely wishbones and plenty of vertebrae that he’s equally proud of showing off!

[eunchancorner]

Revenged and Rescued (Part 1??)

I uh

I did a thing

-

Henry's eyes snapped open, blinding lights filling his vision before slowly clearing. He seemed to be in a medical facility of some kind.

Again? Was that a fail? I died, right? It had to be a fail. I must be back on the ship.

His thoughts raced with the idea, until he began to hear voices just outside his room. Familiar voices, but not the one he should've heard.

“Charlie, there's no good reason for this! He betrayed us, clean and simple. He chose to side with the Toppats and he paid the price.”

General Galeforce, if he remembered correctly.

“General, with all due respect, I don't care! I think he could deserve another chance. After all, who else but Henry could've done, well… all that! He practically did our job for us! The only other person who wasn't straight up dead was the Toppat's prisoner, and that just so happens to be your favorite lieutenant's boyfriend!”

Was that… Charles? Henry was so confused. He should be restarting. And why was he talking about the Toppats like they were already…?

“Listen, son, none of us know what happened at the airship. Yes, it's a miracle Mr. Panpa survived but don't think that was all because of Henry. You don't need to talk to him-”

“Yes, I do! Don't you understand?! I want to go try to be friends with him again. So just let me do that, at least…”

“Fine… but I'm not doing this because I think it's a good idea. I'm doing this because I know it means a lot to you. Just don't cry to me if he doesn't want to talk to you.”

“I won't…”

Finally, Charles entered into the medical tent, his gaze falling on Henry, who sat up slowly, grunting in pain as his back struggled to hold his own weight up.

“Careful, their chief got a really solid hit on you. You're lucky we got most of the damage patched up,” he warned, walking closer to the cot.

“How am I… where am… what…?” Henry managed, finding actually speaking a more laborious task than he’d thought. “I-I thought I…”

“That you died? Yeah, you did for a while there. We were able to bring you back, though. Frankly, you’re lucky I wasn’t the only one who wanted to give you a second chance. Those Bukowski twins are lifesavers…” the pilot chuckled softly, waving at one as he peeked inside the tent at the mention.

“Don’t worry, Konrad, he’ll be fine,” he assured the twin, who nodded and popped back out. Charles looked back down at Henry, explaining, “He’s probably going to tell Calvin you’re awake. You should meet them when you’re better, they’re pretty cool. In fact, there’s a lot of people I want you to meet! But first, we have to finish fixing all the damage to these augmentations of yours.”

Henry nodded, leaning back in the cot, relaxing as he let the weight off his cybernetics. It still felt crackly, glitchy and painful. He tried to move his left arm, feeling as it struggled against every move he tried to make, and finally gave up, sighing as he relaxed it again.

“Yeah, like I said, damaged. Not just from that bullet wound in your back, but probably from the crash too. There was, kind of… a concerning amount of metal scraps on the trail you left? I mean, at least they led me to you, so that’s kinda lucky, right?”

“I guess… so… how did you even…” Henry started, struggling to word his question.

“You wanna know what we were doing in the jungle, don’t you?” Charles guessed, earning a nod from Henry. “It’s kinda interesting. We’d gotten intel that the Toppats were setting up to launch an orbital base there and we went to check it out, but lo and behold, the whole rocket and their airship was completely destroyed. There were Toppat bodies everywhere, including their leader being stapled to a piece of the airship. And, well… that’s where I picked up your trail. It started with your impact spot, then your footprints and some metal scraps from your cybernetic parts. Eventually, I tracked you down, grabbed you and hauled you back to my helicopter. Heh, Rupert wasn’t exactly happy about having to share any space with you, but he sucked it up since the airship crash kinda saved his boyfriend.”

Henry just barely listened, remembering some of the places Charles mentioned. The moments before his death were still kinda blurry, but he knew he’d taken some kind of path after the crash.

“I’m glad I was able to find you, Henry… I’ve been wanting to try to reconcile with you, y’know? I know you betrayed us, but I just… couldn’t stop thinking about you. You’re that kind of person that once you know them, you just kinda can’t forget. I’d hoped I’d get a chance to see you again, though I guess this is a kinda complicated situation. At least you’re not a Toppat anymore, I guess?”

“Mhm…” Henry mumbled, his eyes drifting around the tent, focusing on anything but Charles.

“Mister Calvin?” one of the doctors suddenly addressed the pilot, who nodded at him.

“I, uh, gotta go. They’re gonna have to put you under to repair the augmentations, otherwise you’re gonna be in a world of pain. I’ll see you when you wake up, ok?” he explained, seeming a bit worried.

“Seeya…” Henry mumbled as Charles left the medical tent, staring at the ceiling as the staff surrounded him. However, he still had one more question left lingering in his mind.

What’s supposed to happen now…?