#to flex the boundaries of his abilities

[randomfoggytiger]

So, what is it about the bed scene in Sanguinarium that makes Mulder so hot when Scully comes into his room and he leans back and pushes the folio or briefcase out of his way? His tie is removed and his shirt is a bit unbuttoned and then he makes a squishy face when he thinks she's "mocking" him.

It's not a love scene, it's not an intimate scene, but boy Scully would have had to hold herself back from jumping his bones in that scene.

My guess would be the vulnerability. It's the same effect as other movies' "hot woman suddenly surprises in jeans and glasses and still looks beautiful" trope: the inherent vulnerability of a professional guard lowered.

Not to mention, David was (to my eyes) playing up Mulder's more "feminine" side here: checking out his nose, lounging, scrunching up said nose, flashing his puppy dog eyes in earnest-- it's, again, tapping into that vulnerability. And purposefully. So, the effect is a rangey, intentional-unintentional, almost winking seduction-- ala softly hazy Old Hollywood women looking up through their lashes at their tough-to-crack targets (Scully, in this case.) However, because Mulder's not trying to seduce (it's DD who's intentionally channeling unintentional actions through a character), the effect is even greater. It makes for an almost unmatched "plain clothes glamour" dynamic.

Least, that's how I read it. ;))))

[captain-hawks]

matsukawa + dark green? (love your colour theory drabbles so much they're giving me so much life 🩷)

(thank you so much<3!!!)

issei matsukawa x reader

c: fluff, pining, best friend!mattsun, matsukawa's sexy hands

“You good?”

Amusement glints in Matsukawa’s eyes as his hand stills, the large knife held in his grip lodged deep in the belly of the watermelon that sits atop the cutting board. 

The back of your neck prickles with the heat of embarrassment as you tear your gaze away from the surface of the counter—from the sight of his other hand that’s splayed wide against the smooth surface of the fruit. The way the veins on the back of it flex as he holds it steady while a stream of sticky juice trails between his knuckles and down his wrist. 

“We’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry up,” you evasively reply, wiggling the large plastic container that the watermelon cubes will be going in. 

He shrugs, casually lifting the side of his wrist to his mouth and licking away the juice, and you bite down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the sound that threatens to crawl up your throat. 

You’ve been friends with Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki for ages, but you've always been closest with Mattsun. And as teen years of friendship flourished into your twenties, so has the undeniable flutter of attraction that beats persistently in your chest for your best friend. It’s a problem that’s blossomed tenfold as of late, now that the two of you are both single for the first time since high school. 

While you’ve prided yourself on your ability to mostly compartmentalize these inconvenient feelings to the best of your ability—despite how difficult it is when you spend nearly all of your free time together—it’s this stupid fucking watermelon of all things that will now be your undoing, it seems. 

Your apartment is a block away from Mattsun and Makki’s place, so your joint trip to the grocery store today to pick up food for Oikawa’s barbecue wasn’t abnormal in the slightest.

But the absolutely unhinged bolt of arousal that suddenly slithered its way down your spine without warning when you found him casually lifting up watermelons and inspecting them in the produce area? The way your toes curled in your sneakers as you watched him slide his large palms along each one to inspect it for a promising yellow spot? 

The fact that you had to feign passionate interest in the bulbs of garlic beside you to hide how you nearly choked on your spit when you saw the way his long fingers spread and slotted across the watermelon’s thick, dark green stripes?

You’ve incidentally seen this man half naked more times than you can count, yet it’s the sight of his hands on a watermelon that somehow wrecks you beyond repair on this balmy summer day in the middle of July.

And now you’re leaning against the counter in his kitchen while he slices away through the thick rind and into the soft pink interior, wondering desperately how you’re going to survive the rest of the day now that you’ve lit this dangerous thread of thought that’s rapidly burning its way through your insides like a stick of dynamite. 

“I think we picked out a good one, try it first at least.”

Rather than wait for you to reach out and take the triangular slice clutched in his hand, Matsukawa smirks as he steps toward you and places it against your lips. The pink pulp is sweet as he presses it past the boundary of your mouth, which opens of its own accord as your back presses into the edge of the countertop behind you. Your stomach flutters violently.

You’re half certain you’re imagining it, the way his eyes darken slightly when you make no move to take it from him, choosing instead to maintain eye contact as you slowly bite down into the flesh of the watermelon while he holds it for you.

“Well?” he asks, voice a little rough.

Reaching out, you let your fingers encircle his wrist, tugging it just close enough to take another bite. The juice spills, tracking its way down your chin as you run your tongue along your bottom lip.

“It’s good,” you tell him, wondering if he can hear how loudly your heart is thrumming beneath your ribcage.

Matsukawa lifts his other hand and drags his thumb through the sticky line of juice just below your lips, staring at you unblinkingly as he brings the digit to his own mouth. He nods, as if that taste alone was enough for him to agree.

“Issei—” you start, suddenly very aware of the lack of space between your body and his.

His hand hovers in the air, fingers and palm curved like he’s about to cup the side of your face, and you swear you're on the verge of spontaneously combusting right here between the dripping faucet and your unfairly handsome best friend.

—and then the front door to the apartment bursts open, accompanied by Makki’s singsong voice as he trudges inside and yells, “Oikawa said we’re all dead to him if we don’t get to his place in the next fifteen minutes!”

Matsukawa’s hand drops, and you watch as the expression on his face shutters.

But it’s undeniably deliberate—the way his fingertips brush against yours before he turns around and sighs. 

[juliussilver25]

A New Team

Julius, a high-powered executive recently arrived in Itaewon, found himself with an unexpected invitation to a Halloween party.

Not expecting Koreans to celebrate Halloween he had not packed a costume. Doing a quick search on his phone he found a costume shop nearby.

Under the flickering neon sign of "Spectral Costumes," Julius stepped into the store, his business suit sharp against the eerie Halloween decor. As he wandered the aisles, his eyes fell on a gleaming silver NFL football helmet displayed on a shelf. Drawn to its gleaming surface, he reached out and placed it on his head.

The moment it clicked into place, he felt a strange sensation, like a pulse of energy radiating through him.

Julius' mind was flooded with a singular purpose: to assemble a silver-clad American style football team. His demeanor shifted; he moved with new confidence and authority, an almost otherworldly charm exuding from him reflected in his silver suit.

As he walked out of the store, determined and relentless, he carried with him the mysterious football helmet that held the key to his success.

Julius arrived at the doorstep of his business partner, Dean.

As Dean opened the door Julius, with an intense look in his eyes, pushed the helmet into Dean’s hands..

"Just put it on," Julius insisted.

Curious and somewhat uneasy, Dean hesitated for a moment before placing the helmet on his head. As soon as it settled into place, a surge of energy coursed through him. Dean's muscles start to ripple and grow, sinewy arms bulking up, veins popping to the surface. His chest broadens, expanding with each breath, and his legs strengthen, becoming pillars of power.

Julius looks at the transformed Dean whose broad shoulders are accentuated by a form-fitting jersey. Padded pants hug his muscular legs, adding to the powerful silhouette. His feet are firmly planted in cleats, ready for action. The helmet rests on his head, face shield down, reflecting the lights and concealing his determined gaze. Gloves cover his hands, fingers flexing in anticipation. Every piece of gear, from the shoulder pads to the shin guards, serves a purpose, merging protection with performance. Standing there, he’s the embodiment of strength and readiness his mind filled with an unstoppable drive to be part of the ultimate American football team.

Next door to Dean lived a set of Chinese twins named, Kaho and Kachun, who owned a clothing factory. The day before, they had received an invitation sealed with a silver emblem to "Join us, and embrace the unity of the Silver Collective." Responding to the invitation the twins were enticed into trying on silver bracelets.

Kachun, with a sharp mind and style; Kaho, with a physical prowess and spirited nature were separately remarkable. Wearing the silver bracelets a transformation took place within and between them. Memories, thoughts, and emotions flowed between them more freely than ever before. They could feel each other's heartbeat, sense each other's hopes and aspirations. The boundaries that once separated their minds began to dissolve. Kaho felt a surge of clarity, his thoughts sharpening with Kachun's intellect. Kachun felt a newfound strength coursing through him, energized by Kaho's vitality. With their newly aligned minds and bodies, their eyes shimmering with a silver hue and their enhanced abilities they set out with the singular purpose of spreading the Silver Collective.

Leaving their apartment they go straight next door to Dean’s place and knock.

Dean in his new silver football uniform and Julius in his silver suit open the door.

Dean, his eyes glinting with excitement, holds out the silver helmet. “You have to try this on,” he urged, a smile playing on his lips. The twins, questioning yet sensing that Dean is part of the Silver Collective, in turn, place the helmet on their heads.

A strange sensation envelops them, and they feel a rush of energy coursing through their veins. In a flash, their clothes are replaced by football jerseys, their physiques transforming into that of a powerful athletes.

The twins now understand that to fulfill their destinies and spread the Silver Collective the four men must work together to establish an American football team. Kaho snaps a quick picture of his teammates.

Using their factory, Kaho and Kachun, begin creating special jerseys imbued with the bracelets and helmet’s magic.

Each jersey has the ability to transform the wearer into a football player devoted to the glory of silver, just like the helmet and bracelets had done to them.

The four silver brothers, with their converted factory manager, worked together, quietly establishing the Silver Collective international Corporation, while distributing the jerseys to those who they knew.

Soon, the city buzzed with rumors of the mysterious football players appearing out of nowhere and the organization behind them.

[snipersfucker]

Hello :)

I saw that you were taking Mirage request and I wanted to ask if you can do Mirage x a fem reader were Mirage has a crush on the reader and has the habit of holding her like she is a cat and also maybe a confession? :D *the picture is a example XD*

this is so cute oh my

Mirage was a good friend.

Ever since Noah introduced him to you, he's been nothing but kind. Always finding time to talk to you and see you, even though he had his Autobot duties, always making sure you were either laughing or smiling, never allowing you to feel down when you were around him.

It's always been like that. And the idea that these little, innocent touches of his metal skin on yours, his optics that stayed on your face just a bit longer than anybody else's, the sweet, teasing nicknames he'd use when talking to you, would be anything other than Mirage being a good, caring friend has never really crossed your mind.

A robot fancying a human? That sounded absolutely insane.

But not to him. Oh, not once has he thought of his feelings towards you as not possible, strange, inappropriate. He'd rather describe anyone not being completely head-over-heels for you as such. It was just so easy for him to fall for you, it came naturally.

At the same time, as much as he'd love to just be around you all the time, hold you like the most precious treasure that you were, and call you his, he'd rather fight Scourge again than risk ruining your friendship because you didn't reciprocate his crush. And as self-confident as he might sound, he was quite unsure of whether you felt the same or was just being friendly.

So he didn't tell you anything. He stayed silent, bottling everything up, just trying to enjoy his moments with you, occasionally allowing himself to do something more, to get a bit closer to you than he normally would. Something that'd be more intimate than just sitting next to you, something that'd let him actually feel you.

And, God, he felt bad. He did feel bad for his touches not being completely innocent, even though he couldn't even imagine disrespecting you by crossing any of your boundaries. He just needed something more.

So there he was, standing in front of you, his servos on his hips as he looked down at you with his signature smirk.

"You seen these muscles?" he asked nonchalantly as if he wasn't going to flex his strength just now, lazily motioning to his upper half with a digit, "I could lift seven trucks with one hand," he added, his tone not changing its colour.

He might've been exaggerating but it was for comedic purposes only so he could do that.

When you asked him how many pounds he'd be able to lift, you weren't exactly expecting an honest answer. Mirage both liked to act all tough and strong, but you also knew that he's never really checked how much weight he could actually pick up. So the conversation just turned into a playful banter as per usual.

"I weight eight trucks," you said with a straight face. These words left your mouth not because you were trying to sound like an insecure attention-seeker, but because you wanted to tease him. And it was best done by doubting his abilities and deflating his huge ego. "Don't think you can handle that."

It was childish and you were well aware of it but you enjoyed it too much to stop. It's always been like that and you hoped it'd never be any different.

"Oh, you should see the things I've handled..." he trailed off, the look on his face indicating that the stuff he was referring to was at least impressive. He knew you weren't serious, and you were aware of his actual strength.

His tone was funny. As if he was trying to appear at least a bit humble but failing tremendously. With his chin higher, optical ridges slightly raised, a confident smile on his face plate, he looked like a typical show-off, almost typical Mirage.

The sight made you snicker quietly under your nose.

You didn't know the direction the conversation was going in but he did. He knew what he wanted to do and he knew it was one of the rare occasions in which he was be able to allow himself to do something more, just like he'd craved for a long time.

His reaction to your small laugh was immediate. Even though you weren't making fun of him, he could pretend that it offended him. That you provoked him to prove you otherwise, that he could, in fact, lift you up with ease. So he lowered himself just enough for his servos to meet your body, wrapped them gently around your waist and picked you up. Just like a person holding a cat.

Now that your eyes were on the level of his optics, although not close enough for your warm breath to hit his face plate, you could see his confident smirk in its full glory.

"Show-off," you muttered under your breath with a small smile, even though you knew he could hear you, his audio receptors picking up on most sounds in a very big radius.

She's so soft. She's so soft...

"Oh, yeah," he scoffed, shaking his head in amusement, not letting you see how much he wanted to just keep you between his servos forever. "It's okay, dude, you can just say that you wanted me to hold you, I won't judge," he added, his tone light, casual, projecting. He shrugged with nonchalance on his face as if it was actually the truth and he wouldn't be mad at you if you wanted him to touch you like that.

Projecting.

And he called you dude. He called you dude because sweetheart felt too intimate at the moment, too heartfelt, as if he was scared that the position you two were in and that nickname rolling off his glossa towards your ears would make you realise he likes you. And he didn't want that.

"I feel like a damn cat, M..." you muttered again, placing your hands on his in a poor attempt to push them away for your body. But your smile betrayed you.

His spark almost exploded when he felt your warm hands on his metal ones.

"I'll let you sell me if you meow right now."

He had to say something, otherwise you'd notice the hearts in his optics that appeared when he was staring at you.

His words made you giggle and shake your head in amusement. "I'd sell you without you even realising it," you decided to respond with something more sassy, a smirk and a raised eyebrow only adding to the whole effect.

"You'd get rid of that pretty face?" He tilted his helm slightly, attempting to sound offended and hurt by your statement.

You shook your head in amusement again, letting out a soft sigh.

Mirage gasped dramatically, his face again showing pretend hurt. "You don't think I'm pretty?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.

He loved every second of it.

You looked up at him, turning your lips into a thin line, as if you didn't have enough courage to tell him that you, in fact, didn't find him pretty, even though you did.

"You..." he gasped again, and if he wasn't holding you in his hands, he would put his servo on his spark just to add another dramatic effect. Then, a brilliant idea crossed his mind, "Air jail."

He turned his head to the side as much as he could to still be able to see you in his peripheral vision, straightening his arms fully so that you were as far from him as possible but still touching him.

"Mirage," you said his names as a warning. He knew you wanted him to place you on the floor again but air jail was definitely a real thing in his world.

"You deserve it," he said, his tone mean but not actually sounding like he meant it.

She's so cute. So cute...

"Mirage," you repeated his name sternly, although still playfully enough for him to know that you wanted this to continue, and his spark sped up.

"Tell me I'm pretty."

He sounded like a little toddler throwing a fit which nearly made you giggle but you decided to play along.

"...No."

So warm, so warm...

He scoffed at the word. Dramatically. Just to let you know you didn't actually hurt his feelings.

"You asked for it," he said nonchalantly, fake offence still lingering somewhere in his tone.

He felt smart. So smart for making something up just so he could hold you for a little longer, hoping you wouldn't mind if he did it playfully some time in the future again.

A few moments passed. The only thing he could focus on was your skin against his. The silence normally wouldn't bother him much but this time he felt as if you could practically hear his thoughts about yourself.

"Okay, Jesus. You're pretty," you muttered, rolling your eyes. The slight curl of your lips betrayed you again.

He was not expecting you to actually say that. His helm turned in your direction way faster than he wanted. He thanked Primus his optics didn't get as wide as they probably would've if he hadn't stopped them in time.

He knew you said it only because you wanted him to put you down on the ground. But the warmth that spread all over his metal body felt nicer than it probably should.

"Somebody's gotta crush on me..." he cooed teasingly just to cover up his own sudden nervousness.

You rolled your eyes again with a smirk.

"Floor, M."

Her voice is so soft...

He obliged. Of course he obliged, you told him exactly what he wanted to hear, you looked so pretty in his hands, you felt so warm...

You were standing on the ground again, hands on your hips as you looked up at his satisfied face plate. Cocky as always.

...And so that little thing that he came up with on spot became a part of your daily playful banters. You'd say something he didn't like, you'd end up in air jail.

You didn't mind, really, and found it rather amusing than any other thing. And this time was no different.

A few weeks after the invention of air jail, he did it again for the tenth time.

"You know I'm not putting you down till you say it, man."

Again, any other pet name sounded too intimate and it has not changed since the first time he had you in this position.

You were aware what you had to do, but it didn't stop you from being a disobeying little shit, denying him the things he wanted to hear from you.

"Airazor wouldn't date you."

He knew she wouldn't, he knew he didn't even want her to, but it was another excuse for him to hold you in his hands.

"Wrong."

"Ask her."

"I can't hear you."

"Ask her if she'd date your annoying ass."

He gasped, shaking his helm in disapproval as he looked at you with fake disappointment.

"Damn..." he pretended to feel hurt by your words, a sad expression on his face plate.

You frowned, at first with confusion at his sudden change of demeanor, and then with worry. You were worried that you actually said too much, that you said something wrong.

And noticing the look on your face, Mirage's immediately lightened up, showing him that he was joking as per usual.

"I hate you," you said as soon as you noticed he wasn't actually affected my your words.

"Nah. You love me," he said nonchalantly, shrugging, acting as if it was actually true.

"Nope." You shook your head. "I'm afraid it's one-sided,' you added with fake pity, acting like it was him who loved you without you reciprocating it.

And even though you were absolutely joking, he panicked.

Could you possibly know about his feelings? Has he been too obvious? What was it? Was he supposed to play along? Or was it the right time to tell you that he fell for you so hard he couldn't bear the thought of not being around you for more than a minute?

"I love you," he blurted out and cussed himself out in his mind for doing it in such a... disappointing way.

It wasn't him. He knew it wasn't him. Old Mirage would have never confessed his feeling like that. He would have never even feel anything so strong towards another being, the idea of confessing it too distant that it would never even cross his mind.

You changed him.

It felt strange. It felt strange to say these three words to you, he stopped feeling like himself for a few moments.

Strange but at the same time... good. He could sense the relief washing over his body as the confession left his mouth but the weight of the fear of rejection was still suffocating.

He wanted to repeat it. The three words threatened to roll off his glossa again but he swallowed them, noticing the way you reacted to them the first time.

"M..." you trailed off, too stunned to say anything else.

He wished your voice was less soft. Less careful.

"Yep," he said awkwardly, putting you down on the floor immediately. He nodded to himself. "Shouldn't have said that."

He was close to cussing himself out in front of you but he wanted to both do it in his helm and then later when you'd be gone.

Gone from his life forever...

"Nope, I actually meant it," he corrected himself, not really knowing what to say, feeling extremely out of place, acting more awkwardly than ever. "Friend."

He called you a friend just to save himself but he was fully aware it might've been too late for that.

"I love you as a friend, dude," he added again, making a finger-gun with one of his servos and pointing it at you.

It was getting worse and worse with every passing second.

He looked at you, standing without any movements, searching for any positive reaction on your face.

"Mirage..."

You used his name which meant you were most likely about to tell him that you were sorry, and that you didn't feel the same, and that you didn't want to have him in your—

"I love you."

His spark stopped.

He kept staring at you but then finally managed to get the courage to ask, just to make sure, "As a friend?" His voice was sceptical, as if he was expecting a negative answer. Which he obviously was.

You took a deep breath in and gave him a soft look.

"Not as a friend, got it," he interpreted your non-verbal response, nodding to himself a couple of times, breaking eye contact to look at the garage wall in front of him to collect himself. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, "Well, unfortunately I love you as a friend, so..." he trailed off with an unserious look on his face plate, his funny self finally making a comeback.

You scoffed, crossing your arms on your chest and shaking your head in both disbelief and amusent.

The audacity this man had...

"Alright, fine," he groaned, pretending not to like what was about to leave his mouth, "I love you as maybe just a bit more than a friend."

"Mirage..." you warned him for the third time today.

"I love you as a lot more than a friend," he corrected himself, not wanting to push it too much.

The eye contact was back.

"You're makin' me wanna giggle right now," he said randomly, as if it was a normal thing to say after confessing his undying love to a woman.

You snorted.

"The giggles are getting stronger. I can't hold 'em back," he said in a slightly warning tone, the seriousness in it making your smile grown bigger.

You both stared at each other just for mere second before you both erupted with laughter.

He did giggle.

"I love you, man," he repeated when you both calmed down after a few moments, "And I will stop calling you man. Someday. Promise," he added when he realised he didn't use sweetheart this time either.

"Yeah, of course." You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement as you both looked into each other's eyes with warmth. "I love you, too."

And he smiled, finally feeling at home.

A/N: i used an insecure attention seeker instead of a pick-me even though i hate both but i couldn't really describe it differently lmao also, emotions give me an ick so it may be a bit cringey but we roll. and it's so bad (im just saying that so yall could give me compliments) cuz i haven't written anything in a while..... and the ending made me nearly throw up.....

[greyskyflowers]

The idea of Ace and Luffy being wild, feral things makes my own heart happy.

Honestly though, I picture them having a lot in common with animals.

Strong teeth, strong bones, tough skin, quick reflexes. The instincts that come from growing up wild.

An ability eat lot of things that other people maybe wouldn't or can't. Meat that's a little more rare than advisable and snapping bones to get to the marrow inside.

They walk quiet, soundless when they want to be, using shadows and blind spots to become basically invisible. They don't do it often because they both have terrible attention spans but they can sit still and silent for long periods of time if needed, waiting like predators for their prey.

Staring, the way animals stare and wait for the other one to back down, making themselves look bigger and baring teeth. They snarl and snap their teeth, flexing their hands like claws when they're not making fists, a low grumble in their chests that sounds like a odd growl.

How it's instinct to cover the throat and belly of themselves and their crews, vulnerable spots that must be protected.

Ace being one of the shorter of the Whitebeard crew, so he does that thing where he eases himself in front of the others to cover their throats and bellies. Curling his lip back to show teeth and keeping eye contact with anyone stupid enough to try.

Licking their wounds, literally.

I imagine them being incredible trackers, able to use their senses a little more than the average person. Ears a little sharper, scents being considered, eyes taking in all the little details. Maybe they're not aware of it, but I like to think they take it all in deeper than they possibly realize.

A sense for something wrong, like how some animals can pick up on the energy people give off, possible sicknesses, coming storms, being watched, etc.

Sleeping all tangled together, the way animals sleep together for safety and warmth in cooler times. Luffy and Ace are big cuddlers.

Not necessarily in the normal cuddle ways either, they like to either be sprawled out on top or covered by someone. They're either being protected or they're protecting.

Head butts and cheek rubs when happy. That extra emphasis on crew, like packs and herds. Crew.

A lot of touching. Playing with someone's hair or nuzzling into their neck or side, a lack of boundaries because animals don't have shame or concerns like that.

And everyone who regularly interacts with Ace or Luffy wants to know how two feral cats got trapped in human bodies.

Am I always down for poly crews? Yes

Platonic or otherwise? Yes

Do I think everyone is a little in love with Luffy? Yes

Do I think everyone is a little in love with Ace? Yes

The crews love their wild ones and spoil them rotten when they can and know how to.

And since this is already AU let's just roll with it.

♠️ Ace ♠️

Ace just despises Teach right off the bat. As soon as the ink has settled in his skin and he's got a claim on him that he's never had before, he's completely standoffish with Teach. No matter how much the others tell him that's his brother now and assure him, he's all teeth and fire when Teach is around.

The man makes the fine hairs on the back of his neck rise and the instincts pacing at the back of his mind spit out a hiss.

Threatthreatthreat

His teeth grind together in anger, muscles tense under his skin, and it's a vicious thing in his chest he hasn't felt so strongly since Sabo and Luffy were his.

It causes some tension. People torn between supporting Teach, who's been their own for awhile, or supporting Ace, who has a good sense for this type of thing and is so welcoming to everyone else. They don't know how Ace can be so sweet and well loved by everyone but does a complete 180 with Teach.

It's instincts that have gotten Ace this far in life though and one night, it's only those instinct that save Thatch.

Ace darting out of the shadows and landing like the wrath of a god in front of Thatch, the knife that would have gone into the man's back instead finds a home in Ace's shoulder.

A rumbling growl that gets louder and nastier as the seconds tick by, blood running down a bare chest before flames lick up a wound that only found flesh because letting it pass meant the possibility of it hitting someone else. Sharp teeth shining in the growing glow of the fire and the ends of his hair burning like the edge of paper.

The flames don't burn Thatch when the older turns around. His flames would never burn crew.

Thatch wraps an arm around his waist like he's going to pull him away, but it just stays there, heavy around him. Ace takes a moment to find comfort in the warm and very alive presence pressed up behind him, bigger than him and Thatch's own protective fury catching fire.

Marco is less restrained in his fury. As are most of the others when they rush to investigate. The only reasons it's not quick is because they want it to hurt.

Ace is a coiled threat the whole time, body tense but staying where he is because the original threat was to Thatch and he hasn't quite lowered his hackles from that yet. Still on his toes and ready to spring forward at a moments notice.

He gives a small warning growl to Marco when he gets close, who looks at him in both worry and fond exasperation.

The blood from the blade is black where it burned against his skin and the flesh is unmarked, but it doesn't stop everyone from fluttering nervously around him.

♠️

Ace is attractive, arguably pretty in a way most pirates aren't. Although this young generation is changing that quickly, have you seen some of these rookies?

He draws attention easily, everyone drawn in by his charming personality or freckled cheeks.

He's a flirt but he doesn't often let other people actually touch him. Leaning away from eager fingers or gracefully dodging arms, excusing himself when he feels to cornered. He doesn't want the feel of strangers on his skin, he just wants the crew. And Luffy of course, his heart giving a lonely pang for his brother.

Sometimes people don't get the hint though, and sometimes they do and they don't care.

Drugs don't effect Ace like they would someone who wasn't a devil fruit user but they still make him dizzy and weak before he burns through it.

It only takes once, outside a bar with someone's hands on his skin when they didn't belong there, on his lower stomach and the other up by his neck. He doesn't even get a chance to try to shake off the drug enough to do anything before the man is gone.

Familiar hands, Marco, running over his skin quick and firm like it could wipe away the foreign touch before he processed it was there. Like if he replaced the unknown touch with his own quick enough it will wipe away the lingering disgust and discomfort of the stranger.

The whole time he keeps Ace hidden between his larger body and the wall behind them. Ace's heart aches almost as much as his head with how thoughtful it was. How safe and grounding it was.

The only arms he lets grab him, the only hands that he presses in to, are crew.

♠️

Ace has a habit of sneaking into everyone's bed, they don't talk about how they all know it's on the nights where he can't sleep or has nightmares. He burrows between them and the mattress, until he's under them enough to feel covered, safe and protected.

Ace isn't a small guy but he's lean, always had a hard time bulking up with his metabolism being so high and his natural build. He feels small with them, especially the commanders like Jozu and Vista who completely cover him. Even Thatch and Marco are decently larger than him though, Izo and Haruta being the exceptions but they're large in everything that they are.

They all welcome him. He's warm and sweet, plus it's nice to know he's sleeping somewhere safe instead of falling asleep in strange places through the day.

Marco is usually his favorite though because he doesn't pretend to be asleep. He just props himself up enough so Ace can wiggle under him before settling back down, his chest to Ace's back.

Some nights when the pressure is too much and he's restless in a way that feels like it's deep in his bones, he paces the ship. He's coiled and tight, usually not sleeping for a few days before it catches up to him and he slinks away somewhere dark and hidden to finally rest.

Usually one of the other commanders can coax him into resting, all of them getting the hang of how to best help their wild, little one.

♠️

The crew getting used to Ace just crawling into their laps and making himself at home. He is also fond of appearing just long enough to rub his face into someone's neck or against their cheek before taking off again.

♠️

Ace sneaking off to literally lick his wounds in peace when he gets hurt, especially when he was still finding his place. Someone always having to go track him down because he stays curled away like an injured animal until he feels better if they don't.

Licking at his arm one time when he manages to get caught with seastone, blood staining his teeth and tongue rust colored. Marco trying to grab him and in full lecture mode as Ace tries to dig out the lingering seastone with his teeth.

♠️

An extra one to hurt just a little ♥️

Ace is wild. Already a problem before you factor in his devil fruit and raw power. He's got a reputation of biting, taking off fingers and catching throats between sharp teeth.

It seems like someone did their research though because the muzzle they wrangle him into has seastone. Everyone has finally caught on to the fact that he doesn't need his flames to bite.

It's a sharp, nasty thing. Probably thrown together quick in a desperate attempt to get him under control. The straps dig into his skin hard enough to draw blood and Ace can already picture Marco talking about infections.

It hurts and goes from a deep, dull discomfort to a sharp, active pain. The muzzle settles into his skin and rub the skin raw where it doesn't outright cut into it. He's been captured for a few days, the wounds clotting and trying to heal only to be ripped back open when moving a certain way.

It was only a matter of time until they came for him and when the guards start getting fidgety he wishes he could show his teeth in a grin. Everyone knows what happens to those stupid enough to mess with the Whitebeard pirates.

He always knew they'd find him, even when the guards whispered in his ear cruel taunts about being forgotten. Unloved.

His heart still goes heavy with affection when he hears the first sounds of death coming for his captors.

[wallydrling]

go away (or don't)

pairing: wally darling/reader

rating: g

author's note: gender neutral reader to the best of my ability! i'm very new to welcome home so please be kind @:)

ao3 (it looks so much better there! go to hell, tumblr!)

Your relationship with Wally, new as it may be, is not without its challenges.

The transition from friends to something more had been a bit of a sticky subject at first, tacky to the touch. But a dozen long conversations and drawn-out explanations had really cleared a lot of things up, and by the end of your first official month as Home's newest couple, things had seemed to be tilting towards hopeful.

Now, as you stand in the middle of Wally's living room, arms folded over your chest, you're not positive that you didn't rush into things.

You aren't mad at him. He is standing just a few feet away, face carefully blank, arms limp by his sides. He is nearly impossible to be mad at. But for all your talk of boundaries, you'd forgotten to discuss something very important with him; your dedication to your friendship with Julie.

"She spends the night with you," Wally says, voice even. "A lot. I don't even get to spend the night with you."

He'd been upset to find out that your twice-weekly sleepovers with Julie hadn't stopped even after your relationship with him kicked into gear. You hadn't brought it up during any of your discussions because you didn't think it mattered. You weren't– you aren't– willing to change anything about your relationship with Julie. You won't sacrifice it. It's too important to you.

"Julie is my friend," you tell him. It's important to keep a level head. Getting upset will only make the situation worse. "I'm not going to stop spending time with her just because you and I are together."

"She lies in your bed," he says. "With you. Beside you."

Bickering with him is…not what you expected it would be. Despite him being more in touch with his emotions than ever, it still doesn't transfer well into his voice. He speaks slowly, the cadence near-robotic, and it's difficult for you to decipher how intense the emotions that he's feeling actually are right now. He doesn't look mad. He isn't smiling, and his eyes are slightly narrowed, but besides that, he is a blank slate. It's as infuriating as it is confusing.

"Wally," you sigh, uncrossing your arms. "She's just a friend, okay? I'm allowed to have friends."

He tilts his chin up defiantly, and there it is–something to latch on to.

"I don't think it's appropriate," he says. "Frank and Eddie don't sleep in other neighbors' beds."

"You do understand that we can't model our entire relationship around Frank and Eddie's, right?" You ask, quirking a brow.

"You're not listening," he huffs. His hands twitch at his sides, fingertips curling into his palms. "You're being unkind."

"No," your jaw flexes subconsciously. "You're being unreasonable."

He lifts his eyes to the ceiling. "Home? Do you think I'm being unreasonable?"

There's a subtle creak, and a consecutive bang, bang.

"Well, there you have it," his mouth curls up into a smile, but it is smug and a little bit cruel.

"Wha–You can't ask Home!" You exclaim, throwing your hands up. "That isn't fair! This is between you and I."

He mimics your earlier stance by crossing his arms over his chest. It's a little off; a little clunky, but he gets the gist of it. He looks closed off, and hurt, and maybe angry. You can't read his eyes well enough. It's a learning process, and he is the kind of book that people spend hundreds of years decoding.

"I think you've overstayed your welcome," He nods towards the front door, and it swings open. "Goodbye, neighbor."

You don't move. He's kicking you out? Your legs feel like they've been cased in cement, and your tongue is heavy in your mouth. No. The argument cannot end like this. There has to be a resolution, or the two of you will never come back from this. Your relationship is too new to handle something so detrimental.

"Wally," you try. His name sounds soft and sweet in your voice because, for all the bickering and the mean words, you cannot be mad at him. You just can't.

"Please leave," he says. He shifts on his feet. "I think I'm…mad. And I really, really don't want to be mad at you, but I don't know how not to be. So, you should go."

You appreciate the fact that he is attempting to explain his feelings. That he's digging deep, and being honest with you. You know that it hasn't been easy for him, learning about conceptualizing emotions, and letting himself take the time to decode them. He has struggled. You've helped him through almost-panic attacks too many times to count. He gets overwhelmed sometimes, and you know that, even for you, relationships aren't simple. Standing up to you, it must be difficult.

"Relationships are hard, sometimes," you say, taking a step towards him. "It's normal to be angry with your partner when you both disagree on something very important. And…I know that trying to talk about it can be frustrating."

He relaxes just slightly at your words; you see it in the way his shoulders droop. He still has his arms crossed over his chest, but he is looking at you now, and his eyes go round at the edges. They lose their sharpness.

"Frank and Eddie disagree on things, too," you continue. "Being partners with someone means compromising."

"Compromising," Wally repeats. "But you won't–you're not compromising with me."

"Let's sit down and talk about it some more," you suggest, offering him a warm smile. "We should never intentionally hurt each other, alright? If my sleepovers with Julie have hurt your feelings, I want to make that right."

You take a seat on his sofa, patting the spot next to you. He hesitates for a moment, and then sits down, too. His ankles cross, and he folds his hands in his lap.

"You don't like it when I have sleepovers with Julie because she lies in my bed with me?" You ask. You're careful with your words, with your tone. You don't want to upset him further, or have him close himself off.

He nods. "I've read Julie's romance books, and when two people love each other, they always share a bed."

Ah, yes. Since the realization of his feelings for you, Wally has been in love with the idea of love. He reads Julie's silly, cliché stories, and asks Frank and Eddie questions that are perhaps a bit too personal. He is smart and curious, and he's always wanting to learn. This–all things romance– has just been his newest fixation. You're not sure that Julie's books or Frank and Eddie's ever-changing dynamic are the best references for him, though. He is not like the love interest in a romance novel. He shouldn't try to compare himself to anyone else.

"Sharing a bed isn't always romantic," you explain. "There are a lot of different kinds of love. But," you reach out to place a hand on his knee, soothing, and he lets you. Does not move away, so you take that as a good sign. "If me sharing a bed with someone else makes you uncomfortable, I'm willing to compromise. How about when Julie comes over, she lies in my bed, and I sleep on the couch?"

He takes a moment to think about this. You see the cogs turning in his head, the way his mouth straightens out, and then pulls down at the corners.

"Okay," he says. "I think that would be…okay. I would feel happier with that."

"And," you tell him, "you can't keep basing your idea of love around what you read in books, okay? All relationships are different. You have to learn to navigate it through experience."

"I just," he looks down, eyes closing for a second. "I have questions, sometimes. I don't know where to find answers."

Your hand slides up to cup his cheek, and his skin goes a little pink beneath your touch.

"Next time you have a question, just ask me about it, alright?" You say. Your thumb smooths along his skin, and you brush a bit of blue hair behind his ear. "We'll work on it together."

"I like how that sounds," he smiles, eyes twinkling beneath high noon's light beaming in through the windows. "Together."

Pleased now, he scoots closer to you on the couch. His mouth curves up, and he gets this mischievous look on his face that you've come to associate with his silly little antics. He dives forward and kisses the round apple of your cheek, darting away with a sweet, "muah!"

"So you're not mad at me anymore, then?" You ask, tips of your ears warm.

He shakes his head. "Not mad. Sorry I tried to make you leave earlier."

You take his face between your hands, and squish his cheeks until his mouth puckers up. He looks goofy and open and so, so happy. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you press forward and kiss him on the mouth, once, then twice. The pink on his face goes deeper, and his ears turn red, too.

"I'm sorry for not taking your feelings seriously at first," you say. "I accept your apology. Do you accept mine?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "Maybe a few more kisses will sway me."

You laugh, falling against his chest, and he wraps both arms around your shoulders. He is soft, and smells like cedar and sunlight. You breathe him in, and tilt your head back to leave a little kiss to his jawline.

"You drive a hard bargain, Darling. I suppose I've got no choice but to bend to your will."

You tackle him onto the couch until he's lying on his back, head propped up on the arm rest. You pin his wrists by his sides and leave chaste kisses all over his face, each one signed with a tiny smack, and a "muah!" He laughs, and it is still drawn out and slow and stale, but it is so very him, and that's all you have ever wanted.

He buries his devastatingly cute, "ha, ha, ha's" into your shoulder, and you kiss him and kiss him until the both of you are breathless, and the sun begins to set.

[miguelswifey04]

Hi Lin!

May I request a fic involving either Spider Noir or Miguel O’Hara training with their loving girlfriend, Spider![Reader] like sparring together, getting prepared for future missions, exercising their Spider abilities for improvement, etc.?

Training progress tend to get a little intense and towards the end things are getting hotter and steamier. (If you know what I mean.)

let’s do spider-noir just because i’m in a spider-noir kinda mood and he deserves the hype 🤍

🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰🩰

In the dimly lit training room, Spider-Noir and you found yourselves engaged in an exhilarating sparring session. The air crackled with the electric energy of your abilities, fueled by a mutual desire for growth and the tantalizing thrill of physical contact.

The two of you danced around each other, your bodies fluid and nimble, effortlessly evading and countering each other's moves. Each strike and parry served as a testament to your strength and synchronization, a symphony of movement that echoed through the room.

As the training session continued, the intensity between you and Spider-Noir grew. The adrenaline pumping through your veins was only heightened by the close proximity of your bodies, the sensation of his every breath against your skin.

Sweat glistened on your flushed skin, dripping down in rivulets, as your muscles flexed and strained with each movement. The remnants of the sparring session clung to your clothes, clinging to the outlines of your body, amplifying the raw sensuality of the moment.

The air grew heavy with unspoken desire, the boundary between training partners blurring as the magnetic pull between you sizzled with unquenched passion. Spider-Noir's touch, once focused solely on enhancing your abilities, took on an electrifyingly sensual edge.

His hands traversed your body with a newfound hunger, guiding your motions, igniting fires of pleasure that intertwined with the exhilaration of training. The intense physicality of your bond became entangled with the forbidden yearning that simmered beneath the surface.

As the intensity of your training increased, a symphony of moans and gasps filled the room. Techniques were honed with fiery lust, each move and counter punctuated by whispered words of encouragement and shared longing.

Spider-Noir's fingers found purchase in your hair, pulling you closer as his lips claimed yours in a desperate cascade of desire. The taste of sweat mingled with the intoxicating mix of passion that enveloped you both.

With a hunger forged in that training room, you and Spider-Noir shed the constraints of caution, giving yourselves over to a sensation that words could not convey. The powerful connection you shared as training partners transformed into a deeper bond, intertwining body, mind, and soul.

In the aftermath, as your bodies settled from the intense release, Spider-Noir cradled you in his arms, his breath still heavy with exertion. A radiant sense of accomplishment emanated from both of you, the realization that your connection had transcended beyond mere training partners to something far more profound.

———

a/n: no dialogue and wordy type of night <3

tags: @kairiscorner @alliwriteistrash @sabcandoit <33

[kemch122]

Name: Marek

Age: 27

Position in Resurgence: Founder and Head of Technological Development

Date of Initiation: March 5, 2020

Circumstances of Admission:

Marek is one of the founding members of Resurgence and shared a vision with Alex to create an organization dedicated to achieving superhuman abilities. As a technical genius, Marek developed the first prototype of the transformation machine, which would become the core of Resurgence. Both he and Alex underwent the transformation process on the same day, making them the first members and leaders of the organization.

Transformation Description:

Marek underwent transformation in the prototype machine he helped design. The process significantly increased his muscle mass, strength, and endurance to levels he had previously thought impossible. The transformation proceeded without complications, resulting in a powerful, muscular physique suited for his role as the head of Resurgence’s technological development. This transformation, along with Alex's, laid the foundation for the organization's entire transformation process.

Measurements Before Transformation:

Height: 178 cm

Weight: 75 kg

Body Fat: 14%

Bicep: 38 cm

Chest: 100 cm

Quadriceps: 57 cm

Calf: 38 cm

Bench Press: 90 kg

Deadlift: 110 kg

Squat: 100 kg

Measurements After Transformation:

Height: 183 cm

Weight: 125 kg

Body Fat: 5%

Bicep: 63 cm

Chest: 145 cm

Quadriceps: 85 cm

Calf: 62 cm

Bench Press: 285 kg

Deadlift: 330 kg

Squat: 315 kg

Achievements:

Marek does not participate in public competitions, as his primary focus is on technological advancement and overseeing Resurgence’s operations. However, within the organization, he serves as a role model and source of inspiration for other members, motivating them to achieve extraordinary performance through his strength and intellect.

Notes:

Marek is the main driving force behind Resurgence’s technological development. He continuously works on improving the transformation device and exploring innovative methods to push the boundaries of human potential. Under his leadership, Resurgence selects members with the highest potential and maximizes their strength and abilities through scientific and technological innovations.

At the beginning, Alex and Marek were just two ordinary guys, both weak and often overlooked, but united by a single dream – to become something more. They both wanted to shed their weakness, to be strong and unstoppable. This shared vision bonded them, and over time, it became their common passion, leading them to a laboratory where they began working on a machine that could turn their dreams into reality.

After years of research and countless experiments, they now stood before their invention – a machine with the power to amplify muscles, to strengthen and fill their bodies with a force they had never felt before. Both felt nervous, yet deeply determined. Marek was the first to step inside, always desiring not only physical strength but also the respect and admiration that came with it.

“Remember how we used to dream about this?” Marek whispered, his gaze filled with emotion. “It’s finally happening.”

Alex nodded, his eyes shining. “Yes, and we’re doing it together. You’ve always been like a brother to me.”

Marek stepped into the machine, the doors closed, and it began its work. A deep hum filled the room as the inner chamber filled with a green mist. Alex stood outside, watching the machine operate, silently praying everything would go as planned. After a few minutes, the doors opened, and the mist slowly dispersed.

Before him stood Marek, but he was no longer the small, skinny friend Alex had known his whole life. Now he was a man with massive muscles, an enormous figure radiating strength and energy. Every muscle on his body was huge and perfectly defined, as if his body were carved from stone. Alex felt a mix of awe and pride – their dream had come true.

Marek smiled and raised his arm, flexing a bicep that now looked like solid steel. “Alex, we did it. What we dreamed of is now real.”

Alex stepped closer, running his hand over Marek’s muscles, feeling their solidity and strength. “This is just the beginning,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “Now it’s my turn.”

Marek nodded, smiling, as he watched Alex step into the machine, ready to undergo the same transformation.

[dolliedyhard]

Facts About Dollie Dyhard

Last Updated: November 27th 2024

꒰🎀꒱ This post contains all the general knowledge about Dollie! This post will be updated when needed.୨୧

꒰🚫꒱ I do NOT approve of making “Your own version” of Dollie or ANY of my OC’s. They are NOT valid! Make your OWN OC instead of STEALING MINE!!! You will be blocked if you do that.

*** = Edited paragraph

-NEW- = Newly added paragraph

꒰⚠️꒱ TW: Light mentions of ED & SA

*ೃ༄‧˚ Apperance

╰┉┈ Dollie Winehouse is 16 y/o South African American and stands at 5’4 and is 84lbs/38kg. Her amber eyes are round sorta like doe eyes paired with full lashes. Her body type is petite.

╰┉┈ Dollie’s natural hair is jet black 3c ending near her mid back. Her hair isn’t straight and blonde by nature like you are used to seeing, it’s actually a wig!

╰┉┈ Dollie has joints just like a ball-jointed doll, it’s makes her stronger and it’s how she gets her abilities. Her ball-joints are located at her neck, shoulders, elbows, wrists, hips, knees, and ankles.

╰┉┈ When it comes to physical attractiveness Dollie is fairly pretty, like a 7.5/10.

╰┉┈ Dollie has a small beauty mark under her right eye.

*ೃ༄‧˚ Physical & Mental State + Morals & Trauma

Physical Health

╰┉┈ Dollie gets cold very easily. 60F is considered freezing to her.

-NEW-

╰┉┈ Dollie only eats when she goes on a mission so she can have strength. When she’s off duty she starves herself resulting in feeling weak often. This is caused by her anorexica.

Mental Health

╰┉┈ Dollie has problems setting boundaries with people when their relationship becomes abusive or inappropriate. Since the person at hand is showing signs of possible pushback and defiance Dollie is afraid she will get hurt or offend the person, Like when she was groomed for the first time or when she met Offenderman.

╰┉┈ Dollie is straight. Uhhh ya pretty straight forward… SHE ONLY LIKES BOIZZZ

( ͡° ͜�� ͡°)

╰┉┈ Dollie is an attention seeker and constantly craves love and attention. Before she met the crp the only person who loved her was her mother. She feels unlovable because the only person to ever show her compassion is the woman who birthed her, which is innate by nature. She clings on to people easily like Jeff, Nina and Offenderman because they are the very few people to show kindness towards her.

-NEW-

╰┉┈ Dollie has been suffering from anorexia since she was 14. Because of that she is extremely contortive of what she eats. An addition to that she has a fear of being fat (ik, pretty silly fear right? >_>) and is very fatphobic.

-NEW-

╰┉┈ Dollie is naive when it come to love and romance. She has never had a crush or boyfriend or even held hands or kissed another guy before. She loves Jeff dearly and would die to be his girlfriend but she has no clue how to confess to him. She’s afraid if he rejects her it will completely end their friendship because it would be super awkward knowing one person has a crush on another but the other person doesn’t feel the same.

Morality

╰┉┈ [Percentage for how bad she feels about committing them. The higher the percentage the less she cares.]

Concerning crimes the ones she commits most often are:

Murder (82%)

Homicide (100%)

Torture (65%)

Arson & Disturbing the peace (100%)

Shoplifting (100%)

(THIS IS NOT A FLEX- just showing u Dollie ain’t making it to heaven)

╰┉┈ Dollies catchphrase before killing her victims is “Death has called your name today”. The backstory behind this phrase is that Dollie believes a lot in fate of the universe, like a lot of psychopaths do. Because of this her moral reasoning for killing people is because it is their time to die. Whether they are a inhuman person so deserves nothing but the pits of hell or a good samaritan who has done the best I their life, if it is their time, then it is their time.

╰┉┈ Another one of Dollies catchphrases is “Beauty is within the ghastly”. The meaning of this phrase is they’re is beauty in everything, though sounding cliche it is true. Even within the odd, the, misunderstood, the macabre, and the ghastly. She can see the glimmers of the fine details in people that come together to make a piece of art that can be understood by only the creative.

For example; Jeff is to most normal people a monster. Hideous, scary, psychotic, any other synonym you can think of. His bloody glasgow smile, pale skin, and messy long jet black hair, and creepy demeanor would make anyone think he’s a batshit crazy. But Dollie can see past that and accept him as well as see his unique inner beauty, like all the rest of the crp. I mean, who would want to live in a house were you think everyone is UGLY?!?!?!?!? XD

╰┉┈ Dollie kills a variety types of people. She is not a vigilante and she does kill innocent people.

Trauma

╰┉┈ Before becoming a Slender proxy Dollie had become a victim of Offenderman. She was all alone in the cold Connecticut forest at dawn with not a soul to help her. Frightened, freezing, and desperate for help Dollie was susceptible to Offender’s seduction. Offender took advantage of her and gifted her a dainty pink rose and the promise of helping her out to gain her trust. Dollie of course has no memory of the rape actually happening but she eventually came to the conclusion of what happened and has been coping with it ever since.

╰┉┈ Dollie has been groomed by two people, both being older men. The first was before being involved with the crp & the second was offenderman.

ೃ༄‧˚ Abilities

╰┉┈ Dollie is mainly a stealth killer. Lurking in dark & unsuspecting places to catch her victims off guard. Therefore her skill in stealth is very high. Hiding in plain sight, being quiet, moving quiet, playing dead, is her specialty.

╰┉┈ For her weapon of choice, Dollie uses a victorian styled scissor and victorian axe when fighting. She also carries needles, some are poisonous and some are for healing purposes.

╰┉┈ Dollies creepy factor is uncanny valley. She’s a ball-jointed doll that sits completely still, lifeless in dark and eerie places not making a sound. Don’t imagine an image of that… I’m not responsible for YOUR NIGHTMARES!!!!

╰┉┈ Dollie stalks a lot if not most of her victims. You have about 1-4 days before your dead meat. Even if she fails to kill you Dollie holds grudges for looooooong times and the moment she ever sees you again it’s over.

╰┉┈ What does Dollie do to her victims? She uses their bodies for taxidermy and dresses them up like dolls. It’s a hobby of hers and the reason she kills in the first place.

╰┉┈ Dollies favorite part of the human body are the eyes. She loves their capability to express surreal emotions, The intricate details in the irsis, the way the pupils dilate, everything.

* ೃ༄‧˚ Relationships

Family

╰┉┈ Dollie’s father is a narcissist and abusive towards her mother, herself and her.

╰┉┈ Dollie’s mother is the only family member she loves and is close too. Her mother also reciprocates the feeling of love and care to her.

╰┉┈ Dollie loathes her brother Brandon. He is the only person Dollie actively causes prolonged torture and torment to instead of just killing him upfront. She has never hated someone so strongly other than him. One day I will explain the reason why she feels this way.

Friends

╰┉┈ Jeff and Nina are her best friends and hang out often together. They are very important to her.

╰┉┈ Dollie admires Jane & Liu as well as most of the older members in the mansion, she thinks they are super cool.

-NEW-

Jeff The Killer

╰┉┈ Jeff was the first person she ever met involved with slenderman. Ever since then they have grown with together and are now extremely close. They aren’t dating yet but they do have romantic feelings for each other. They have the most fun being on missions and traveling together.

-NEW-

Nina The Killer

╰┉┈ Dollie and Nina are the bestest of friends! Nina is the 2nd closest person to Dollie.

Offenderman

╰┉┈ Despite what Offender did to Dollie she is still quite fond of him. Since she has problems setting boundaries with people she idealizes him in her head and tries to rationalize their relationship. She’s like, “At least he didn’t leave me in the forest, he took me somewhere safe…” “I deserved it. Why am I fighting him when I probably liked it anyways?”. She likes the attention he gives her and the idea he might genuinely care about her.

Ben Drowned

╰┉┈ Dollie doesn’t like Ben. She finds the pranks and jokes he pulls to be annoying and he reminds her of her brother, whom she hates deeply.

Jane The Killer

╰┉┈ Jane is a mentor figure to Dollie. Jane tries to help her whenever or however she can.

* ೃ༄‧˚ Personal Interests

Fashion

╰┉┈ Dollie dresses scene & emo as well as lolita sub genres like hime, mori, gothic & classic lolita. But no matter the fashion style she must have her iconic hair bow.

╰┉┈ Dollie is a bohemian and loves everything to do with the arts.

Music

╰┉┈ What’s kind of music does Dollie like? She’s listens to a wide variety of genres. Her favorite artist are The Smiths, Pierce The Veil, Emilie Autumn, and Evanescence.

Random Tidbits

╰┉┈ *** Dollie is a cat lover and she especially loves tuxedo & black cats. She actually owns a tuxedo cat! His name is Mr.Noire and Dollie loves him dearly.

╰┉┈ Dollie’s signature perfume is Miss Dior Eau De Parfume.

╰┉┈ Dollie’s favorite flower is the Lily of the Valley.

╰┉┈ Dollie’s favorite color is baby pink, hot pink, and black.

* ೃ༄‧˚ Outro

Thank you for reading about my beloved Dollie♥︎.

꒰🖋️꒱ Update log:

- 4 sections added 11/16/23

- 1 section edited 4/13/24

- 5 sections added, 3 sections edited, & format changes [June 2024]

- 4 sections added, 2 sections edited, & format changes [September 2024]

- 16 section added, 3 section edited, 1 section removed, & format changes [October 2024] - 1 section edited [November 2024]

[besidesitstoowarm]

"Doomsday" thoughts

i'm realizing i forgot to mention my WIFE freema agyeman in last episode. i'm so sorry baby. i can't wait for s3

anyway this episode fucks severely and kind of reminds me that a lot of diehard ten/rose shippers don't like. GET what makes them work, bc they don't get what makes rose work. i think i've said it before that not only do moffat haters not understand his era, but davies lovers often don't even really like it for the right reasons. or like, reasons that are based on the text instead of the tumblr interpretation of the text. this isn't to disparage davies likers or ten/rose shippers or whatever, just make sure you're remembering the episodes as they happened and not as 1080p gifsets you reblogged 8y ago

anyway! this was a great finale to s2 and to the rose era in general (i'll make a season retrospective w more detail). it's just some goddamn great doctor who, davies is masterful at weaving deep and impactful character work into the classic balls-to-the-wall insane doctor who shenanigans. let's explore, shall we

i love the idea behind the "genesis ark" like tell me that doesn't sound like something that already exists in dw canon. calling back to needing rose's touch bc humanity– the human ability/desire/habit of crossing boundaries, inherently filling every space, colonizing to be less generous– has a power to it. the bit as well about "cybermen will remove sex and class and race and creed" is a critique of centrism bc our differences make us human! they're beautiful! the great equalizer is horrific, imposed violence

i'm sorry if this seems homophobic but i don't think a straight person could have possibly written the dalek-cybermen interactions in this episode. "the daleks have no concept of elegance" "this is obvious" sorry it's just pure cuntiness on a level i have never seen a cishet achieve. i'm not stereotyping davies as just "sassy" or whatever he's deeply talented in all facets but bitchiness is indeed one of those facets

continuing the anti-establishment theme, yvonne walking into the cybermen hell saying "oh god, i did my duty" is deeply telling. the cyberman she becomes crying an oil-slick tear and fighting back saying "i did it for queen and country" is kind of sad and kind of horrifying. it's about the layers

rose gets to flex w the daleks by telling them what she did as bad wolf. "i met the emperor....and turned him into dust" yes!! yes!! get their asses baby!! "both sides had secrets" all the time war seeding is so tasteful and delicious. it works as both bread-crumbing info that will be revealed eventually and as background worldbuilding should they decide to never get into the nitty-gritty. they obviously do in "the end of time" for one and then eventually the 50th but davies plays it just subtle enough that if they never did get deeper into it, i don't think it would have felt like a cocktease

i love the pete-jackie stuff sorry. i love stories about people finding/refinding/etc love in their 40s. they're not the version of each other that they each know but they're close enough and they do love each other. their big hug made me emotional

and of course. the ending. what is there to say about the ending that hasn't been said a hundred million times already. murray gold is a fantastic composer and he CRUSHES it. the fact that ten was ready to sacrifice rose without her consent (which he will later do to donna! themes!), the fact that she fought the narrative and refused until tragedy took over, as it inevitably must. bad wolf bay. "i love you" "rose tyler, –" as tears drip down his face. oh i am just so sick. they were codependent and unhealthy but you really can't deny how much they cared for each other, and even tho i KNOW they meet up again and get their "happy" endings i just. oh it hit. phenomenal acting on both parts, incredible score, oh it just destroys me. a beautiful end for the season and for rose

side note, i did not recall that "runaway bride" was the next story. i totally forgot that we get the season-long gap before seeing donna again. i can't wait to get back to donna, she brings out the best in ten (being divorced and a pathetic wet beast)

season retrospective up soon!

[notafunkiller]

To get him to reveal something about his 'rs' w AW? A slip of the tongue or whatever? Well, he didn't and all they did was give him another example of how social media is effecting people's mental health by being so desperate to confirm his 'rs' status they'd break the law to record him & to show him even when he TRIES to interact w his fans, they still push the boundaries. Honestly, that's the only reason I can think of that it couldn't be videoed like the others./ i trully dont know what they whant to get out of this. But even the gotl who give him bracelet for aw post vid from this and she secretly record, and yes she was holding phone this way that you cant see aything thats mean she probably press the phone to her body so seb dont know she record it, and she did thar 3 times, at every meet with him like this is crazy. And to be honest not even one time he talk about bracelet, no pic of the bracelet for this girl or even seb holding it, like we have just words, thats mean seb probably dont whant to play that game or dont say what they expect him to say, maybe he was not so happy that he got this bracelet but was just polite. And same people talk one girl who is more aw and seb fan and belive in their true love was there to and she also secretly record, like btw what they think will happened ? But people said his reaction to her was also more polite than excited and he said something about limiting internet to her its like he could feel something might happened. But its sad if he do because that would mean he feel people trearing him like a doll that they whant to hear certain stuff from and he couldnt be fully relax. Some people shpuld chill, no recording mean no recording, its not a flex you broke the law, you already meet him and have a pic isnt that enought? It should be.

The only one explanation i have is that they just to young to understand and still have mentality of: 'hihihi i will record hihi crazy' or are to deep in some fantasy. I know in this day and age we learn to record every interaction, we are so quick to pull up our phones and press record that for some kids its like build in ability but sometimes we should think and respect some rules, memproes are also impostant just because you dont have a secret recording in place the comic con rules say you cant record doesnt mean this didnt happened, it did an you will remember it thats enought.

And i also think seb might still go on ig from time to time(even in pap walks we see him on his phine often) maybe he see some stuff some bigger accounts, some drama, some aw stuff and thats why he sometimes act the way he do

Let's just try not to film people secretly (unless they are abusive) in general

[immortalmuses]

ㅤㅤㅤWithout lifting his sprawled weight off the mattress, Teddy shrugs the royal cloak from his shoulders. Its semi-sentient fabric slithers off the side of the bed to land in a heap on the floor, where hopefully it won't end up too wrinkled come morning. Flexing the scutes along his shoulder blades, the Emperor's skin ripples with his shifting ability, his own bodysuit just… melting away... to leave him in his fitted briefs (the perks of being a shapeshifter, don't question it too closely).

ㅤㅤㅤTeddy rumbles a pleased hum when Billy's fingers work their way through his hair, going boneless as the other man guides his head to his chest. “..Mmph.” He grunts, “… can't you magic our plaque away?”

ㅤㅤㅤOkay, maybe that's pushing the boundary of 'acceptable laziness.' One would think that being a hybridized offshoot of Kree and Skrull physiology would mean there's no need for battling Gingivitis. But apparently not?

ㅤㅤㅤTucking his arm firmly around Billy's waist, Theodore drags the smaller man into the curve of his own body. The shapeshifter naturally radiates heat, but even so, the air in their bedroom is chilled. Groping beneath their tangled bodies with his free hand, Teddy manages to unearth the covers without dislodging his head from his husband's chest. He winds the bedding around them both, cocooning their entwined forms together.

ㅤㅤㅤ“Hmmm…” He sighs, satisfied, “…a Kaplan-Altman Burrito..”

The arms sliding under him made his smile spread a little wider; while, if asked, Billy would have just gotten up and walked himself to bed, the thing was -- he knew Teddy wouldn't. Like anything else in their relationship it was just a matter of course. Teddy had strength to spare and nothing but adoration for his silly mutant spouse, why wouldn't he carry him to bed when he just didn't feel like walking?

His arms tightened a bit around Teddy's neck, dark head tucking against warm green skin. By now he was used to the sidelong looks, the lingering unreadable glances of guards and retainers who he knew, deep down, definitely didn't think this Earther mutant was right for their great Messianic Emperor. He didn't care.

He had the ring, the title, and most importantly, he had the heart of one Theodore 'Dorrek VIII, the Great Unifier' Altman. He won.

It was with a grateful sigh that they sunk onto the mattress, and a wave of his hand that simply dismissed the clinging body stocking, leaving behind only a pair of black briefs. Once, a long time ago, he'd been shy about the freckled, scarred body beneath his clothes, but no longer. Now, if he was in his bed -- there was no reason to hide. Very few people would bother them in this private sanctum away from it all. His fingers slid up into Teddy's hair, gently pulling the hybrid's head down to rest on his chest.

"Hmm, forgot to brush our teeth," he mumbled -- once again making zero effort to untangle himself. What was one missed night, in the grand scheme of things?

[fermented-writers-block]

So, can we just talk about the way that Philip's apparent ability to possess corpses didn't come into play this special?

I mean, the credits to King's Tide and the first half of the special showed Philip observing our crew from afar/implicitly roaming around Gravesfield on his own, and Hunter wasn't a corpse when he got possessed (aka being literally infected by touching Gooplos without a covering over his sowing machine puncture wound), so this corpse possession seems to be setting up something for the next two specials.

Or as Golden Demise on the TOH server suggested, there is one particular corpse that Philip could try his hand at possessing...

Though then again, last we saw of the Boiling Isles, it was being ripped apart by the Collector to build an Owl House for "Owl House," and possessing the Boiling Isles would utterly destroy everyone's home, so perhaps that option might not be quite as viable for possession - let alone the maximum at which the Owl Crew will be pushing the boundaries.

After all, there ARE the multitudes of other Titan remains scattered across the Demon Realm with one big graveyard on the other side of the world at that, which I would not be surprised if we travel back to at some point during the next two specials with the Collector's help.

And with so many corpses all in one place, what's to say that Philip can't potentially combine them in an effort to take out the Collector. Whereas one titan could only seal them away, just imagine what a horrific chimera of several titan corpses could potentially do.

Sure would be a great opportunity to flex the crew's inspirations from Fullmetal Alchemist even more, amiright?

[scara-meow-che]

ʜᴏᴍᴇ⠀┃⠀ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ⠀┃⠀ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛɪɴɢ⠀┃⠀ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

CORRUPTING YOUR CLOSET PERVERT ROOMMATE

☰ ⠀ ❝ i never knew you were such a pervert. ❞

DETAILS !⠀your roommate has been cooping inside his room A LOT and you wonder why the hell he needs a lot of tissues. you also started to question the constant groans echoing on the hallways during the wee hours of the morning. as so, you went ahead and conducted your little investigation. [ featuring SCARAMOUCHE and ZHONGLI in a modern collage AU with fem! implied reader ]

————⠀ SCARAMOUCHE

it was like an unspoken rule between the two of you, establishing boundaries and setting in some warnings whenever you two prance and laze around the apartment at different hours of the day. scaramouche was pretty strict when it comes to his own activities and responsibilities and you were carefree and passionate about your own hobbies and every little thing that interests you. with both of your ways of living contrasting one another, it was hard to find common ground but somehow it all worked out in the end... save for the fact that it's you who did all the job in pushing your relationship from mere strangers who share the same apartment space to friends (as to what scaramouche had undoubtedly cringed at).

it took you months to even have your roommate look at you whenever you pass by the little hallway separating your own little spaces. even when you bid him a sweet "good morning" or let him share some bacon and toasts you made for breakfast, your efforts used to be left in vain but now it was the opposite. ever since the day you brought him his favorite drink (that you noticed he'd buy every. fucking. day) when he was having his finals, you gained the ability to jab and playfully bark back at every playful insult running past his mouth the next day he sits with you for breakfast.

"you know? you can be cute when you're this soft around me," you once remarked during a movie night you somehow got him to participate in. note how his eyes would glare at you, throwing a popcorn directly at your face which you returned with an equal amount of jest as you started poking his side.

"stop fucking doing that," he groans when he felt your fingers press down the flesh of his torso, you just laughing so gleefully beside him. as the distance grows smaller, the harder it was for scaramouche to handle how his thoughts ran from one idea after another. he can feel how your breasts would brush so gently on his arms, taking note of how you weren't wearing a bra underneath the large shirt. next is how your thighs would flex as you kneel and sit down at his side... it grows worse when he sees how your short rides up to expose more of your skin as you leaned back after he admitted your shitty victory.

and since then, as the movie had finally ended, as the two of you retreated back to your own rooms, you went back to having no contact with scaramouche himself.

you were worried. well, it wasn't the first time you two had poked at each other's things and that wasn't even the worse that you two have let the other feel. but the way he acted as if you were back in day one had hurt you, no, you were disappointed as he was being a bit unfair in treating you like this. whenever he sees you frowning or sulking in the apartment, he was the first to barge in insults at how ugly you look and it honestly made you feel worse during the early stages of your relationship. but the small acts of kindness (that he does in his own twisted and cruel way) aren't left unnoticed when you'd see a bar of chocolate or a small bag of your favorite snacks hanging on your doorknob.

so you wanted to do the same thing for him as well.

and there came the day where you finally have enough time to confront him. your professor was kind enough to dismiss the class 15 minutes earlier than he used to so you dashed your way back to your apartment. you were a bit nervous since you don't even know where to start but knowing how difficult scaramouche would be, it doesn't matter as long as you manage to grab a hold of him.

as you insert the key to your door and twist the knob open, you were welcomed by complete silence. you thought that maybe he was out to eat but you saw his shoes at the entryway. you sighed, merrily, as you quickly discarded your shoes and went to walk through the living room all the way to the small hallway.

and that's when you heard it.

hushed grunts and the familiar creaking of his chair echoing through the walls. scaramouche's voice was strained, laced in such discomfort that you almost stepped inside his room out of sheer concern. but you quickly halted on your track, heart beating fast to gloriously stain your face with such warmth as you heard your name being moaned out loud.

oh.

slowly and gently, you twisted the door to his room, smiling when you found it unlocked. inch by inch you reveal scaramouche's body settled on the comforts of his chair, hands pumping up and down his cock leaking with so much precum. the faint glow of his computer screen had illuminated some colors on his flushed skin, his eyes were shut close to avoid any sort of distraction while his hand was desperate for more stimulation.

and following the old movie fashion when you caught someone doing something naughty, you tiptoed your way towards him, lung constricting as you held in a deep breath as you wanted to surprise him as much as he had surprised you.

"you really are cute, aren't you scara~," you whispered behind his back. he was surprised, almost falling out of his chair but you quickly caught him and leaned down to meet his strong gaze.

"why the fuck are you so early?" he says through gritted teeth, finding it hard to spat any insults when he was busy shoving himself right back inside his shorts but you stopped him from doing so. "out. g-get the fuck out of here." oh, is that a stutter you hear?

"but you looked like you needed an extra hand with your problem," you whispered while looking down at his still hard cock, forming a bump underneath his shorts. as you are supposed to look at the dark little patch stain on his shorts, what had you smiling more was the picture he has on his phone. "i never knew you were such a pervert."

amidst the scolding hate scaramouche felt to you and himself, his mind had snapped out of the haze of vexation when his eyes widen and his hand scrambled to grab his phone and immediately pressed on the power button to turn it off. "to hell f/n, you weren't supposed to—,"

humiliated, for once scaramouche felt all his frustrations crashing down at him in waves. all those prurient inclinations just to feel some sort of relief because of the ache you had caused him came in unyielding hurls of shame to what he thought to be his ice-cold heart. your smiles, the gentleness in your voice, the smart way you raise a banter with him—he had grown so fond of those little things that he grew attached to and longs more for the fuzziness you have him experience.

but you made it hard for him to admit all of these feelings raging inside the thick iron walls he had set around himself. he doesn't like the way you made him feel so weak and soft around you and when it grew worse as the time he saw you in a very suggestive post, he can't help but try to distance himself.

but fuck that photo of you in a swimsuit, fuck him feeling so horny over you.

"but what if i want to?" your sudden outburst caught him off guard, pausing when he saw the dark glint in your eyes and yet the worry shimmers right above the surface. "do you know how much i hate the way you ignored me for days?"

you fumed while you settle in between his legs. he intently watches your every move, hating how he hissed when your hand went to pull his cock out of the confines of his shorts. he hates how he whispered curses when you steadily pump on his aching dick. he hates the way his eyes practically begged to be touched, his fingers sink deep in his palm as he doesn't even fucking know where to hold onto to.

"tell me, do you want this scara?" gentle, despite the dirtiness there is to your intentions.

"j-just fucking suck on it, f/n." he grunts, eyes looking away, once more escaping your gaze. you didn't like that, you were frustrated as much as he is so when you raise a hand and gave his cock a light slap on the tip, you saw how his body trembled and his hips buckling in reaction to the pleasurably painful sting on his cock.

"is that the proper way to ask? after being so fucking shitty to me, scara?" you glanced and saw the lustful gloss on top of his dark pupils. he had his teeth biting down his lower lip, bits of his pride pours out whenever he moans. "come on, you can do better than that."

"p-please, just... suck my cock already." and you grinned at the expense of his embarrassment but also to satiate what he had always longed for the day you barged in his life. slowly you gave the tip of his cock some experimental kitten licks, erupting a cute high-pitched cry from his lips. the cold look on his face melts, his cheeks were blushing, eyes locked on his cock which you continue lapping the tip with your tongue, his bottom lips plump and red from biting so much...

ah, you can already feel how the two of you would spend more time with one another behind closed doors.

i really look like i have my favorites, huh?

————⠀ ZHONGLI

zhongli was absolutely the sweetest roommate you could've asked for.

were you being a bit biased with this? maybe but you never met someone so dashing and yet so down to this earth with all the humane and silly qualities you never knew someone who looks so perfect to have. he is sweet, really as he often knows how to brighten up your day with the simple compliments he'd throw at you before you went out to start your day. he would sometimes even bring back food he got from his friend who was filthy rich (you wondered how zhongli met him and didn't decide to stay with him).

sometimes, he'd even accompany you out to grab dinner from a fast food dinner. his towering height would often loom over you, making you feel safe to enjoy late-night walks. but the downside to that is he often forgets his wallet (he pays you though, don't worry) and his comments about some things were quite odd. it fascinates him, despite it going against what you think so you never have to worry about it as long as he doesn't dance around the subject for more than minutes.

zhongli, you're amazing roommate who also seemed to know a lot about history was really adorable in his own way. you would often be caught just looking at him as he explains to you the government records accumulated from the known liyue qixing. even when the topic would easily bore out people, you were there to listen and smile at how passionate he was while he was telling you more data he had grown to memorize by heart.

with how mesmerized you gazed at him, the more he can feel himself gets swoon away with the feelings he slowly harbored towards you.

it started out as an innocent interest with how you often be around him and just adorably hanging on every word he'd say. maybe that's what drove him to make you feel so special. next came the nervous ebbs he'd feel once he got to see more sides to you. from how your hair would stand up in places, how he'd witness your vulnerability as you trust him enough to listen to the thoughts and worries your heart had been stressing over—as he experienced how much you treated him more than what a friend does, from the simple kiss on the cheeks, the sweet wave you'd give him whenever you cross paths in university grounds, the way he was always the first one to hear your plans and would even be invited throughout the whole agenda... he can't help but reach the end of what used to be an innocent flow of his emotions as he can't help but crave more of what you have to offer.

but zhongli doesn't have the courage to ask what he wants from you.

he tested the ropes of his patience, discerning how taut it was to be able to withstand the blows of his own desires. he held nothing but utter respect towards you, he adores you and cherishes you as his roommate even when his mind screams more than what he tries to label the two of you as.

but with loosely severed strings and scarred purity, one can't hold back and soon he had surrendered to the decadence of such depraved yearning for pleasure.

zhongli thought you were out shopping with your friends, giving all the time he needs to focus on bringing himself any sort of comfort by using his hand. he imagines how it'd be your nimble fingers massaging small circles on his thighs, slowly riding its way up to the middle of his legs and meet his cock that rests so painfully between the cotton fabric of his underwear. as he sat down on his bed, back laid perfectly on the headrest, his legs parted and his cock now standing up to kiss his abdomen—this was the moment where he imagines it's you who was touching him.

so sweet and slow, taking your time in sliding your smooth skin against his skin, your lips teasing on his lips, eyes solely focusing on his dreamy golden orbs, mouth whispering nothing but love as he would do the same. he wishes for all those to come true but...

his hand will work, for now.

"oh d-dear f/n," he stutters out your name. his eyes were pressed closed as he let his mind work and do what needs to be done. the heat inside his body felt too bothersome to simmer down with a cold shower nor he would be willing to take his problem to other people who he knew would be willing to help. but no one can ever satisfy him, not when he felt so your pointer finger sliding up from his foot, your fingernail smoothly tracing a straight line that meets the joint of his hips. it was too good to feel your palm rests so gently on his hips, four of your fingers now making their way to his aching cock, rubbing along the shaft where the veins were prominent as it throbs painfully on your hold.

"please, i-i need you to... make me cum, please," zhongli grunts when he felt your fingers resting at the fat cockhead and messily smothers all the precum on the reddish tup. his mind going overdrive with his imagination.

"if you wanted me to, you could've just asked you know?" your voice loomed over his thoughts and when he opens his eyes, it was you who had your hand on his cock. the same smile he grew to love was plastered serenely on your face, calming the embarrassment he must be feeling when you sat down beside him and continued stroking his cock. "you looked like you're in pain, zhongli. may i?"

obediently, he replied with an eager nod.

"come on, use your big boy words zhongli. you can do that right?" big boy. the word had let go butterflies to rage in the pit of his stomach. he can't stop himself from flushing, hips buckling when you wrap your hand around the base of his needy dick. "use your big boy words like how you did earlier."

and he did, pliant and sweet, like the zhongli you always know but this time.... it was for other reasons and maybe, just maybe you now know why he was so good to you.

☰⠀TAGLIST⠀ⵓ⠀@lucifucker ະ @colourless-cora ະ @nshasy

☰⠀NOTES⠀ⵓ⠀i am dedicating the scaramouche prompt to @noiwillnotdothefandango because of the "kana is horny for scara so i'll make her hornier" agenda on disc. i love you so much 🥺 i know he is a bit ooc here but i can't help it 🥺🥺 i tried my best not to indulge so much in my own take for virgin scara but here you go 🥺 also thank you for @daddyscara for engaging on my horny thoughts about virgin scara on dms too. you the og, i love you so, so much.

[noiranamnesis]

In the midst of brushing loose strands behind her shoulders, she froze, unable to mask a deep flush staining her cheeks. It seemed as though he could sense when she was at ease, aptly flexing an ability to keep her teetering whether via threats or flattering words. Her opinion differed, however, choosing to believe he sweetened only when he was the one at ease. A pleased hum escaped her, lathered touch slipping through his curls. “Then I hope to never find myself in a sculptor’s company.” Deft pressure against his scalp was interspersed with faint scrapes of manicured nails. “I only wish for you to see me like this.”  

Reveling in the intimacy of such a task, her thoughts wandered to his features. Sun kissed skin appeared dull, all too familiar rings darkening his eyes from a brutality she could only fathom was both witnessed and inflicted on those at his mercy. When have you last slept in peace? If at all? A question never spoken, instead replaced by a kiss against his jaw so as not to disturb their peace. Filling a pitcher with water she held it above his head, shielding his eyes with her free hand as she rinsed his hair. With more lather gathered a drop was applied to his cheeks and forehead, slow gentle rotations working to wipe away any lingering traces of war. 

Stubble tickled her fingers, a small smile forming at the notion of expression how she found it more than appealing- even though she hoped it only temporary. He wore it well, but solitary nights had plagued her with a longing of being able to once more share his bed, admiring him with only the moon’s offering of light. A wish which required him in his entirety, infamous scar included. While unwilling to initiate a kiss it remained her favorite feature, showered in her affection as a means to convey emotion behind a boundary of cowardice. Cowardice she had long accepted as a helpless piece of herself.  

Massaging his neck she smoothed her touch over his shoulders down his arms. As if in her own world she took her time, tracing each new scar she happened upon before pressing her lips to tender flesh. His hands felt calloused, worn skin forever stained in the blood of others with countless more due to meet a similar fate. Bound by a vicious nature leaving marks on enemies and victims alike. A reality which should instill fear in her and does, but is equally subdued by familiar and solace found when alone in his grasp. Kisses against his knuckles served unspoken intent; to accept and welcome all fragments of him home. Delusion never lulls her into the false belief he will understand although she allows sparks of hope- even if he only grasped it for a fleeting moment. Shifting her attention to his chest she washed him with the same level of care before watching him curiously, awaiting any reaction as her touch dipped beneath the water to clean all off him. 

there is silence between them. comfortable and curious. in the close, private space they share now, he is allowed to think and to look at her. to not be led by his bruised ego of her disappearance upon first entry to the palace. of why he could not see her in the crowd of faces celebrating him. now he can look upon her face, inspecting every inch. reminded of the fact, so clearly, that she is beautiful. how his mind feels as though it has been struck by a wave that aims to go to shore, to drag any wandering thoughts with it that are not central to her. is this what relaxing is? does each time he is not thinking of blood, of taking what should be rome's, of the dark, he is thinking of her? he does not need the answer. does not wish to linger on it for too long. what a weakness it will be - if truth. no.

but he had thought of her when he had been gone. when he had been alone, desiring the sensation of warm skin against him. when he had wished to lay his head against her breasts, to be peaceful at the sound of her heartbeat. and how he had wondered whether it would be rushed or a steady, calm, beat. and when he wished to hear the sounds of a beautiful melody that only she could make. has watched as the fabric of her own gowns have slipped to the ground. when he is left to submerge in the water, settling, comfortably. when he is left to bask in warmth but be reflective of the woman in front of him. despite how the warm soothes his dreary, aching bones, his mind, almost restless.

" yes " he tells her. " all of me " his hand has taken the soap from her, but he is disinterested. his fingers feel as though they tingle under jupiters wrath, as if he has been struck by a lightning bolt with intention of being forceful and direct. how he desires her closeness. how his toes, absentmindedly curl in the water, as if to steady his mind and the thoughts that come with it on steady ground. " when you are like this, i consider requesting sculptors design a marble statue of you " to capture her beauty. and his words are calm. gentle almost. but he is unpredictable, as always. words easily spoken to him can scratch the ever lingering itch of temper in his head, to unleash it so. " i want you closer " his freehand, briefly submerging to the water, if only to grasp at her hip, to pull her nearer without a single response to be said by her. his other hand, with soap, isn't designed for him - it is an excuse to touch her despite needing none.

[smp-boundaries]

List of Boundaries: CaptainSparklez

Violence in fanworks: In one of his subreddit videos, Jordan reacts positively to a bloody drawing of him being accidentally stabbed by Tubbo, showing that at least in fanart, he is okay with violence and death.

Fanfiction: Jordan has done two videos where he read fanfiction, one of which was an x reader, and reacted positively both times. This shows that he is okay with fanfiction and the x reader did not appear to put him off, as he specifically chose it for a Valentine’s Day video.

Shipping: There is no distinct evidence for Jordan being for or against shipping as a whole. He seems comfortable with being shipped with Tom Cassell (Syndicate) as evidenced by various videos where they joke about kissing and being shipped together. On the other hand, in the third MC Ultimate, when AntVenom made a joking comment about SparkAnt (their ship name) being revived after they both respawned, Jordan replied with distaste, implying that he doesn’t like being shipped with AntVenom. He has also spoken on multiple occasions against being shipped with Lady Ianite (from the Mianite series), and shows discomfort when looking at romantic fanart of them.

AUs where Jordan is Tubbo’s and/or Crumb’s father: Jordan has reacted positively to fanart of Tubbo and Crumb as his children and is accepting of the AU. However, he seems to be unaware that it is an AU and not canon on the Dream SMP, therefore this cannot be used as evidence for his stance on AUs in general.

General PSA: Jordan does not like people prying into his personal life, which includes his IRL friends and relationship status. He doesn’t disclose this information and people should respect this about him.

Evidence: Jordan reacting to violent fanart, CaptainSparklez reads a CaptainSparklez fanfiction, Jordan reads an x reader, Jordan, Tom, and Mini Ladd joking about shipping, Jordan reacting negatively to the idea of SparkAnt (Jordan/Anteler), Jordan reacting negatively to Sparkanite, Jordan talking about Tubbo and Crumb being his children, Jordan talking about how it’s weird when people ask about his IRL relationships

clip transcripts below cut

reacting to violent fanart Jordan: (reading reddit post) uh, “blood. It was a mistake.” (opens post, revealing Among Us fanart) ah, no, dude.. (playing it up for the bit) ah no, back to back! I can’t believe I have to relive this moment again and again! I don’t think I - it’s - it’s - y’know, I don’t think I ever betrayed him, but I got betrayed in return. It was hard.

Jordan, Tom, and Mini Ladd joke about shipping Tom: (hugging Jordan and Mini Ladd) all in - all in, all in, all in - this feels good. hey, no kissing tonight, alright? Jordan: really? Tom: no kiss - (Mini Ladd kisses his cheek) okay. (looks at Jordan, points to cheek expectantly) Jordan: (kisses Tom’s cheek) Tom: (laughs) oh yeah!

reacting negatively to the idea of SparkAnt (Jordan/Anteler) Anteler: this is team Sparkant, being revived Jordan: no, not that - not that word.

reacting negatively to Sparkanite Jordan: alright people do this weird shipping thing with me, and Ianite, and I realize that it kinda stems from season two but let’s just - I feel like we need to keep it as a platonic relationship between a follower and their god, alright? Ianite is m’lady, my god, it doesn’t have to become like a romantic thing. Alright? alright. cool.

about Tubbo and Crumb being his children Jordan: (reading reddit post) “the Tubbo origin story is growing.” (opens post, revealing fanart) Is that Tubbo jumping out of the ____ to catch a bee? and then Crumb saying “there can be only one?” There actually - I’ve seen things on twitter though - Inga(?), who - who does lots of art and stuff and has done some of the MCC thumbnails, like, did a drawing where I was Tubbo’s dad in the Dream SMP server and I was like “is this a thing that’s actually going on?” I know nothing, I’m confused. But I guess I’m like - I’m Tubbo’s dad. on the server. I have no - I geniunely don’t know, but that’s what I’ve heard. And I’m like “oh, okay.” I guess - y’know. I did say I wasn’t having kids but there wasn’t anything about a kid that already has been had. So I guess it works. It doesn’t - yeah - doesn’t mess with my take. But also we have Crumb now. (laughs) “There can be only one.” But it’s been established that I’m his dad I guess, so - so, there has to be two. It’s already been said and done.

talking about it being weird when people ask about his IRL relationships Jordan: (reading reddit post) “Expose yourself, Jardoon. Did you break quarantine for a video?” (opens post, revealing screenshot of Youtube comments under his video) I can’t - I can’t, like, it’s so - it’s so weird.. to me, that every comment is just - who filmed the video - does any other channel get that? It’s bizzare - like I - I feel like other channels just have people film their videos and it’s - the entirety of the comments section isn’t, “who filmed the video,” it’s - it’s about the video content itself. I just - I mean, I don’t know for sure. Maybe that is a thing on other channels. But - also … and also, I do know other people who live in the general LA area. I’m not just completely solo without the ability to reach out to a single person. I know as much as I stay at home and am confined, I do know other people. Weird flex, I know. “Woah, this guy, look at him out here - knows other people? Who exist? Not just on the internet? Oh ho, mister fancy out here dude, okay. He’s got real life acquaintances and all that. Alright, way to flex on us all!” But I - oh my god dude, it’s so weird. And I made this comparison in my stream a couple days ago, that it’s like my mom when she’s asking about plans and what I’m doing, and I’ll be like, “oh, I’m going to such-and-such with friends,” …. she’ll be like “oh, what’s their name?” And I just think - I mean it’s - you’re not gonna meet them. Are you gonna look up their - like are you gonna look their name plus my name online to try to figure out who they are? I’m confused in that regard. It’s just a person who I know. And - and then, anyway, it’s just - you guys are my mom. (laughs) So that’s where we are with this.