#why is it ‘cool’ to make these jokes?

[lilislegacy]

So here’s the thing: Percy is my guy. I’ll defend him till the day I die. I adore everything about him, and you guys know that. So this post might shock you because I’m about to call the fuck out of him.

I am so SICK of receiving ask after ask after comment after ask about Annabeth being the only goddamn issue in their relationship, meanwhile Percy gets made out to be some saint. You want to call out Percabeth? You want to be all heroic and talk about bad behavior? Allow me to join you! Let’s fucking talk about it!

The number one thing people complain about in their relationship: Annabeth making jokes about his intelligence. But let’s actually talk about this: we all know Percy is extremely intelligent, but why are we so hellbent on denying it when he DOES act like an idiot most of the time? Like, why is Percy saying things like he can’t tie his shoes or phrasing stuff to Annabeth like an 8-year-old when he’s nearly a grown adult? And now tell me this. Why is it always on ANNABETH to translate and explain everything when we know Percy can figure stuff out for himself? Why is it always on ANNABETH to make the plan? Why is it always on ANNABETH to figure out how to fix things that Percy and Grover usually messed up? 

After Wrath of the Triple Goddess, I spent so much time being angry at how Rick wrote Annabeth bossing Percy around. But then I took a step back and realized: it’s because he also writes Percy as always being so heavily reliant on Annabeth when she’s there. Instead of asking, “Why is Annabeth acting like his mom?” why isn’t anyone ever fucking asking, “Why does Annabeth feel like she HAS to act like his mom?” Because she doesn’t act that way with people like Thalia, Jason, or Reyna. So why is her boyfriend putting her in a position where she feels like she has to explain everything to him and tell him what to do?

Oh right, I forgot: because we must always blame the woman for “nagging” and “being controlling.” Silly me for forgetting.

You know, in The Demigod Diaries, Annabeth says she’s always known Percy isn’t dumb and that he’s actually very intelligent—but that he just ACTS super dumb. Then she says she thinks Percy does it just to annoy her. Annabeth has called Percy smart on several occasions—including one of my favorite moments in MoA where she calls him brilliant and kisses him—and yet she still makes those comments about his intelligence. So considering all that, let's think about it. Have you ever met someone who’s super smart but acts so dumb that they actually convince themselves they’re dumb? It’s infuriating. So imagine how that must feel to a daughter of Athena. And don’t you dare go, “Well, it’s because of Percy’s childhood and his abuse…” because Annabeth is ALSO fucked up from her childhood and suffered from abuse, but that doesn’t ever excuse HER, I guess. So why does Percy get a pass? 

It’s ALWAYS “God Annabeth is so controlling all the time” and NEVER “how come Percy puts Annabeth in a position where she always HAS to take charge and keep things under control?” How come he low-key DOES act dumb and useless (and then complains about it) when they both know damn well he can be smart and resourceful when he wants to? Let me guess. “He’s insecure 😔😔.” YEAH, NO SHIT, SHERLOCK. So being insecure makes it all okay? Because Annabeth NEVER gets that benefit of the doubt. Or let me guess, “It’s Rick’s fault for writing him that way” okay cool, well then it’s ALSO Rick’s fault for writing Annabeth the way she is. You don’t get to pick and choose.

(Quick pause—does anyone else feel like Rick finally started writing Percy as a confident, secure, and assertive person in Heroes of Olympus—and found it so refreshing—only for Percy to regress back into his self-hating, insecure 12-year-old self again in the new books? Because it’s infuriating to me that he lost that character development. Anyway… resuming discussion.)

People are always so worried about Percy feeling inferior in their relationship, but never about Annabeth feeling frustrated when Percy doesn't act like the equally contributing partner that she knows he can be (and that he is a lot of the time). I mean, we know from her POV in MoA that Annabeth tends to feel like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders and has to figure things out for everyone else. And that she feels useless sometimes because everyone else, especially Percy, has all these amazing powers, and all Annabeth has to contribute is her knowledge. And yet, when she "shows off" with her intelligence, it's a "superiority complex?"

And another hot topic: Anti-Percabethers are always talking about Annabeth “bullying” and “physically abusing” Percy. (Despite him never feeling pain, flinching, or even expressing an ounce of discontent—in fact after she judo-flipped him, he laughed and smiled). And yet they never seem to want to talk about the fact that Percy has made Annabeth cry and been extremely insensitive to her on several occasions. And you wanna talk about physical violence? Let’s talk about how Sally, Paul, and Annabeth were all extremely nervous and tense when telling Percy that Sally was pregnant. You know why? It’s explained that they’re scared because his temper is brutal and they never know how he’s going to react—because he previously blew out the pipes of the entire apartment building when he got upset about something. How come everybody is SO worried about Annabeth playfully smacking his shoulder and him not caring, but NOBODY wants to talk about the fact that Annabeth is scared of making Percy mad because he can’t fucking control his temper or keep the world around him from blowing up? This is the guy who’s been kicked out of military schools for fighting. This is the guy who’s thrown his skateboard into a wall out of rage. This is the guy who got so mad at a goddess that he got pleasure out of torturing her. I’m not saying he’s wrong for any of that, but I am saying that Annabeth has never once done something like that.

Let’s talk about Piper’s perspective of him. I used to hate Piper because she was critical of Percy, but then I grew up. She is one of the few people who actually gives us an unbiased view of him, and you know what she says? She says she doesn’t know how Annabeth deals with Percy because Annabeth is constantly having to keep him under control. Annabeth keeps him from attacking/yelling at Leo after the canon incident. She has to diffuse his stupid, pointless “who’s is bigger” competition with Jason. She’s not there to keep him from pissing off Bacchus, and Percy rapidly escalates the situation and nearly screws them all over. I mean, in Wrath of the Triple Goddess, she had to tactfully handle him after Grover drank the strawberry potion because Percy was so angry that he was literally shaking (and btw Annabeth had to figure out the plan to fix everything that time, too). When she’s not there, Percy talks back to gods and superiors and gets everyone around him into bad situations with his temper and disobedience. Annabeth CONSTANTLY has to calm him down and keep him from losing his shit. Do you know how exhausting that must be??

So tell me—why is the blame ALWAYS on the woman here? Why is Percy made out to be some poor, abused wittle baby being picked on by big bad Annabeth? He’s a big boy. A grown man now, even. He is the most powerful demigod alive. He can fucking take care of himself, and so can Annabeth.

If you don’t want to like Percabeth? That’s fine. If you don’t want to like Annabeth? That’s fine. But STOP making it out as if Annabeth is the only one who causes problems in their relationship and Percy is completely innocent. Percy is just as bad—arguably worse, actually. Because despite everyone saying how bad Annabeth is to Percy, he never actually gets hurt, scared, or offended by her. Meanwhile, Annabeth HAS cried because of Percy’s words AND has been scared of him and his temper. So… what the FUCK?? How is Annabeth the one being villainized here??

Now, I can actively defend every single thing Percy has done. I love him for his flaws and they make him such a complex character. And I can do and say the same thing about Annabeth, but for some reason that’s “excusing bad behavior.” I love them both and think they are extraordinary people who’ve been dealt really crappy hands. They deal with things the best way that they can in the moment. But they BOTH mess up and hurt each other, and they BOTH have things to work on. They are very flawed characters, and we can point out and discuss those flaws while also being fond of those flaws because it makes them more realistic. 

Now, some of you might be thinking, “Lili, I thought you loved Percy and Percabeth.” I do. I love them so much that I pretty much have a whole blog dedicated to them. But I don’t love them because I think they’re perfect. I love them because, despite being extremely flawed, they make each other better. They love each other unconditionally. They build each other up and protect each other in the darkest of times.

They are best friends. They are battle partners. They are lovers. They are warriors. They are heroes. They are EQUALS. But they are NOT perfect. Not even a little. And their ability to overcome and work through those imperfections together is what makes them so extraordinary.

And yet, when Percy plays dumb, it’s blamed on Rick’s bad writing and excused as him being insecure because of his abuse. When Annabeth calls him out for it and jokes about it, she gets called an awful person who doesn’t value him. And when Percy loses his temper and acts out and gets everyone into bad situations, he’s excused because he inherited Poseidon’s temper and he can’t help it. But when Annabeth is extremely prideful and acts like she’s smarter than other people (which she inherited from Athena) she’s a selfish bitch who thinks she’s better than anyone else? 

How does that make any fucking sense? 

If you want to criticize Percabeth, criticize both of them. But don’t keep doing this “selective reading” bullshit so you can see Annabeth as the villain when she spends half her life cleaning up Percy’s messes and taking care of him. Percy is extraordinary and I adore him, but he is not a “saint” for “dealing with Annabeth.” He is damn lucky to have her, just like she's damn lucky to have him. 

Either be honest about both their flaws and cut it out with the double standards, or don’t bother pretending you care about the truth at all.

[enigmaris]

Red Hood held out his now uncovered hand as if to ask for a hand shake. Danny floated a bit closer and reached out with his own gloved finger. He poked into the back of the guy’s hand.

“What are you doing?”

“Dude, what if you’re contagious?”

“Can ghosts get sick?” Nightwing asked.

“There are ghost diseases, yeah.” Danny answered, still poking at Red Hood’s hand. “No ghost antibiotics, though. You just have to tough it out.”

“Is that what I have?”

“No.” Danny said. “You have something easier to fix.”

Danny floated back so that he was eye level with the two taller heroes. He folded his arms across his chest and looked at Red Hood.

“So, like. Is there a private place we could chat?”

“Private?” Nightwing asked. “Why? It isn’t fatal, is it?”

“Uh no? It's just personal. What’s it called Hippo? The doctor thing.”

“Are you talking about HIPAA?” Red Hood asked, sounding confused.

“That’s it!” Danny snapped a finger and pointed at Red Hood. “It’s personal medical info. We are on a rooftop in the middle of the biggest city I’ve ever been in. Do you want to go somewhere private?”

“I uh... No, here is fine.”

"Okay.” Danny said. “Cool then. So, these Lazarus Pits? I’ve never seen one, but I have heard of them from other older ghosts. Except we don’t call them that. They’re relatively common in the zone, but the locations are secret, you have to know someone who knows someone ya know?”

“Well, what are they?”

“Distilleries.”

“What?” Red Hood managed to look absolutely flabbergasted even with the full faced motorcycle helmet covering his head.

“Ghosts can’t eat human food, right? I mean we can, but we don’t taste anything. We don’t have the physical parts to digest human food and enjoy it like we did when we were alive.” Danny explained. “It’s the same thing for things like alcohol and drugs and things. So, a lot of adult ghosts still want to get drunk even though they’re dead. I died before 21 so I wouldn’t know, but like, there’s a desire for it.”

“What does this have to do with the Lazarus Pits?”

"Well, in order to make something we can taste, it has to be made with ectoplasm. Alcohol is not as easy to make as other stuff for ghosts. Alcohol is made using fermentation, right? Well ectoplasm doesn’t really. Do that. I mean ectoplasm is either inert or charged with emotional energy, if it gets charged enough it will form a ghost or spirit or something. It’s basically impossible to like, make ectoplasm ferment without risking your alcohol becoming the ghost of wines past.” Danny said, throwing a joke on the end there. Nightwing gave him a smile while Red Hood managed to glare at him through the full red facemask.

“There are ghosts who have figured out how to force ectoplasm to ferment. They basically invented ghost yeast, a sourdough starter of horror if you will. It takes centuries for ectoplasm to get good enough to be considered drinkable alcohol. So, what an enterprising barkeeping ghost will do is find like, an abandoned cave or something, fill it with ectoplasm dump the ghost yeast in there and leave it alone for like a thousand years to ripen. Then they’ll come back, bottle it up and sell it in the zone.” Danny continued.

"Are you telling me Red Hood is ghost drunk?” Nightwing asked.

“I’m saying he has a yeast infection.”

[cameronsbabydoll]

how do u think rafe would react to reader wanting to get a job maybe ?? bc she gets bored while hes at work and it would be cool to make her own money #independent woman !!!!

Oh, Rafe would hate it. The idea of you working, of you being out in the world without him watching over you, would set off every possessive, controlling instinct he has.

At first, he’d probably laugh, like it’s a joke—his girl, working? Making her own money? That’s cute. But when he realizes you’re serious, that you’ve actually thought about it, his mood would shift real fast.

"Sweetheart, what do you even need a job for?" He’d lean back in his chair, arms crossed, giving you that condescending smirk. "You bored? I’ll buy you something. You wanna feel useful? Plan a trip for us. Problem solved."

But when you push, when you insist it’s not just about money but about having something of your own, his grip would tighten—on your waist, on your jaw, on your entire life. He wouldn’t yell, wouldn’t explode, but his words would get lower, more calculated.

"I take care of you. That’s my job. Yours is to be here when I come home. Looking pretty. Waiting for me."

this was so so fun to write… i dunno why but i just find this so attractive… :( id definitely write an extended version of this if yall want

[stump-not-found]

hellooo haiii :]

i saw a while ago that you said that you were fiddleford hater among lovers… do you mind speaking more on that? (sorry i really liek hearing ur views on stuff)

uhh yeah you know what i'll talk a lil about it . why not . i can share some analysis as a treat . will tuck my thoughts gently behind a readmore, so sweet and softlys

i think fiddleford is a fine character its just irritating when narratively he's treated as this very tragic figure when he's an adult man capable of making his own choices . this is a flaw with the books, to be clear - i do not think the actions of fiddleford align with the explicit narrative he has as a nice guy who had a terrible thing happen to him, which stanford must feel soul-crushing guilt over .

this is what bothers me about him: that he is intended to be read as just an all around good dude with tragic circumstances, rather than a messy guy who made shit-ass terrible decisions every step of the way

not even talking about fandom mischaracterization. that's a given in any collaborative fan space and i don't really hold it against people for doing that . fandom is fun, play with your dolls, do whatever - all that mostly means is im not gonna vibe w/ a lot of fanart, it's not going to impact my opinion of the character . i do think it's funny how the collective fanonization of him is simultaneously the wettest meow-meow, but also a total badass when . he's so fundamentally conflict adverse he destroys his own life and body over it .

my man fucks raccoons . i guess that's badass in it's own way . i guess

the thing that is compelling about fidds to me is he is a bit of a worm, and that worminess winds up destroying him from the inside out . he really embodies the entire concept of 'inaction is action', in a way that's deeply frustrating in both fun and not so fun ways

some of the fun things we know about fiddleford:

leveled the downtown area of palo alto

built a robot to try and kill his wife when she tried to divorce him

built robots to kill kids because his son wasnt paying attention to them

brain blasts people to get free labor out of them

started a cult to brain blast people

so horny for Cthulhu Columbo that he did not get his son a christmas present . not a single Tonking Truck . i know your brain is half melted at this point but cmon man

i don't really think the whole leaving his wife in the 70's is all that cute either . it's a one off joke, and there's something interesting about the fact that it's a one off joke . like what kind of financial freedom do people think a single mother is gonna have in this time period? why is that something that goes unchallenged?

and the fact he leaves them for a year is just like . that's also fucked man . i can personally attest to how fucked it is to have your dad just piss off for a year to do contractor work . what a wild subplot to be treated with such little narrative importance to his character . like . the fact that it holds so little importance to fidds is a narrative all on its own

it's just weird how the story treats him, man . he's not that endearing of a dude, which is what i like about him . i like that he makes bad decisions . i like that he doesn't respect when people say "no" . characters should make bad decisions and be bad people . i just really hate this presentation of his own actions being the fault of anyone other than fiddleford

oh also the research paper stint was insane . wild to me that that was presented in the story as like a cool or kind thing to do to someone . like that's a very reasonable boundary for stanford to be upset about being crossed, and its wild how that's presented as him being a jackass . there are MANY things that make ford a piece of shit . being upset about a guy doing something like that behind your back is not one of them

tho that's a whole other conversation about how ford as a character is defined by never having his boundaries respected, and this never being challenged, and in fact he should just be okay with it when it happens by the "right" sorts of people . once an object, always an object . love him

[kangshxrtie]

31 . smut park (written)

you and belle pulled up to the park, parking next to daniela's car. the second you stepped out, you began looking around and spotted the both of them on the swings, passing a joint between them. the closer you got, the stronger the scent of weed got. yeah, they definitely started without y'all.

"took y'all long enough," manon teased, exhaling smoke before passing it back to daniela.

"we had to make sure we got our food first," belle said, holding up the pizza box. "y'all were a second thought."

daniela gasped dramatically. "i literally begged. on my knees."

"you did that for you, not for me," you said, kneeling down onto the sand in front of them.

daniela immediately slid off the swing to sit next to you, nudging your shoulder. "okay, but you still brought me food. you like me or something?"

you rolled your eyes, but you didn't pull away when she leaned against you.

manon took the joint from her and held it out toward you and belle. "y'all smoking or just here for the vibes?"

belle grabbed it first, taking a hit before handing it over to you. "vibes and drugs."

you took a slow inhale, letting the smoke settle in your lungs before exhaling. the night air was cool, and the park was empty besides the four of you, just the sound of the sprinklers, faint noise from the houses nearby, and the occasional giggles coming from your group.

belle opened the pizza box, grabbed a slice, and held it out for daniela. "here. you're only getting this 'cause y/n paid."

daniela took the slice anyway, grinning. "aww, you do care."

"not even a little," belle deadpanned.

daniela nudged you again. "you care, right?"

you glanced at her, still leaning into you, her eyes a little hazy but locked onto yours. you weren't even that high yet, but her gaze alone was making you feel funny.

"i mean... i did bring you food," you said, tilting your head. "that's gotta mean something."

daniela smirked, taking a bite of her pizza. "yeah. means you really like me."

"damn, she's bold tonight," manon snorted.

"if y'all start making out in front of me, i will tase you both," belle groaned.

daniela just laughed, nudging you one last time before focusing back on her pizza. but she didn't move away from you.

"so, do y'all come to this park often to smoke?" belle asked, taking another hit before passing the joint to you.

"every once in a while," daniela answered, leaning back against the swing chains.

"we were just getting food one night, and somebody in the car had an overwhelming urge to go play on a playground," manon explained, "and then it just became a thing. deep talks while low-key being scared of getting the cops called on us."

"is that an actual concern?" belle tilted her head.

"it happened once," manon said. "some other group was being loud as hell, and the cops got called on them, but it was fucked up because we had to leave too because of them"

daniela nodded. "and the last time we were here, we were about to leave 'cause we saw some people getting out of a car, and we all got scared because it did look suspicious. they turned out to be some high schoolers who told us we didn't have to leave," manon finished. "then they started doing witchcraft."

belle blinked. "witchcraft?"

daniela nodded, taking the joint from belle. "full-on summoning circle shit."

"but that's why we love smut park," manon said with a dramatic sigh.

belle frowned. "wait—why is it called smut park?"

manon grinned. "because one night, we got really curious about the... logistics of certain positions you could do on this playground."

"and then joked about filming stuff here," daniela added with a smirk.

daniela leaned in closer to you, voice just above a whisper. "i can show you some."

you rolled your eyes, biting back a smile as you playfully slapped her thigh. "shut up."

daniela just laughed, stealing another hit before handing the joint off. you took another slow inhale, letting the warmth settle before passing it off to manon. the buzz was starting to settle in, a lightness in your limbs and a slow, lazy comfort creeping in.

daniela finished the last pizza slice and leaned her head against your shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

manon stretched her legs out in the sand, exhaling a long stream of smoke. "we should play some playground games."

belle shot her a look. "girl, what?"

manon laughed. "okay, maybe bad idea right now. we should play on the playground though." she gestured to the tiny jungle gym under the dim park lights.

belle stared at her for a moment before shrugging. "i mean, i'm high enough to consider it."

daniela perked up. "wait, that actually sounds fun."

you let out a lazy laugh. "we're about to be grown-ass adults playing on a kindergarten playground at, like, midnight?"

"exactly," daniela said, grabbing your hand and lacing her fingers through yours as she stood up, pulling you with her. "c'mon, babe. live a little."

you glanced down at your intertwined hands, then back up at her smug face.

"you're so annoying," you muttered, but you didn't let go.

daniela just grinned. "and yet, here you are, holding my hand."

belle sighed, taking one last hit before standing up. "if i break something tonight, just know i'm suing all of you."

daniela ignored her, tugging you toward the playground, still holding onto your hand, having no plans of letting go.

the playground was small, but in your current state, it felt like the perfect place for whatever dumb ideas were about to happen. the sand made your walk a little slower as daniela led you toward the jungle gym, her grip on your hand firm and warm.

"alright, what we doing?" manon asked, stepping onto the slightly wobbly bridge between two platforms, making it sway beneath her.

"we should race up the slide," daniela suggested, her eyes already locked onto the one in the middle.

belle scoffed. "i'm not tryna bust my ass."

"sounds like you're scared," daniela smirked, tilting her head.

belle narrowed her eyes. "i literally have nothing to prove to you."

"okay, but if i win, you have to admit i'm better than you at everything."

"oh, you're on."

you snorted as belle stomped toward the slide, already mentally preparing for the disaster about to happen. manon, still balancing on the bridge, pointed at you. "you racing too?"

"nah, i'm good." you leaned against the side of the jungle gym, watching the chaos unfold.

daniela turned to you with a pout. "babe, i thought you were gonna live a little."

"i am. by watching you eat shit from a safe distance."

she rolled her eyes but let go of your hand to prepare herself at the bottom of the slide. belle crouched next to her, both of them staring up at the top like it was some insurmountable feat.

"alright," manon announced, taking her self-appointed role as referee very seriously. "on three. one... two... three!"

the second she said three, belle and daniela lunged forward, scrambling up the slide like their lives depended on it.

belle immediately struggled, her shoes slipping against the smooth metal. "this is a terrible idea," she wheezed, arms flailing as she tried to claw her way up.

daniela, meanwhile, had a slightly better start, using the edges to propel herself higher, but she was laughing too hard to keep any real momentum.

just as daniela managed to grip the top edge, belle, in a desperate bid not to lose, grabbed onto the back of her hoodie and yanked.

"hey! let go, you cheater!" daniela shrieked, kicking her feet wildly.

instead of pulling herself up, belle ended up dragging them both down. daniela barely had time to react before they slid all the way back down, crashing into the sand.

manon doubled over, cackling. "y'all fucking suck."

daniela groaned, rolling onto her back and staring up at the sky. "i hate you."

belle sat up, breathless but smug. "i took you down with me. that's a win in my book."

you walked over and offered daniela a hand. she grabbed it, pulling herself up with a sheepish grin.

"i still think i won," she insisted.

"you didn't even make it halfway up."

"technicality."

belle stretched, wincing slightly. "okay, yeah, i'm definitely gonna feel that in the morning."

manon wiped away a tear from laughing. "worth it, though."

"race me on the rock climbing wall, manon," you challenged, stretching your arms.

manon eyed the wall, then back at you. "we are literally as tall as that wall."

"okay, we'll add the monkey bars, too."

manon shrugged. "fuck it."

the two of you made your way to the wall, standing at the base like it was some grand obstacle course.

"first one to belle wins," you said, nodding toward her still lounging at the end of the slide.

"let's go."

the second you both took off, you climbed the wall in one step. rock climbing a few days ago definitely gave you an edge. manon took two steps but wasn't far behind. you scrambled across the platform to the monkey bars, grabbing onto the first one, only to immediately realize you were not built like you used to be. your grip nearly slipped, but you forced yourself to keep going because manon was right there, moving almost in sync with you.

as you both neared the platform, you swung your body forward with all the strength you had left, reaching belle first and tapping her hand.

"bitch," you grinned, bucking at manon in victory.

"damn, you're mean," manon huffed, catching her breath.

"i'm sorry. i get competitive." you put your hands up in mock surrender.

"this is the real her, dani," manon said, pointing at you dramatically.

daniela snorted. "oh, i figured that out when we were at the arcade. i still like her."

"yeah, she likes me," you smirked at manon before bucking at her again.

"bring back nice y/n. sober y/n would never speak to me like this."

you laughed. "don't worry, i still like you too."

"i am not about to be the side chick," manon said, raising a brow.

"no, obviously, dani's the side," you teased.

"so you're cheating on me no matter what?" manon asked, deadpan.

"well—yes," you admitted, laughing.

"as long as we don't tell dani," manon said, playing along.

daniela, who had been half-listening, immediately perked up. "don't tell me what?"

"mind your business," manon shot back smoothly.

"bro, what? tell me," daniela demanded, stepping closer.

"we should get on the swings together," manon said, changing the subject.

"yes, we should," you nodded, immediately moving toward them.

belle groaned. "wait, don't leave me!" she scrambled up to follow.

by the time daniela finally caught up, you and manon were already swinging in sync, the cool night air brushing against your skin.

"i won't forget about that," daniela muttered, side-eyeing you.

"can't hear you, i'm too high," manon said. "literally and mentally."

you just laughed, slowing down after a while. right on cue, daniela was behind you.

"hi," you grinned.

daniela leaned down slightly. "you want me to push you?"

you nodded, and she moved behind you, hands resting on the chains. "hold on tight, babe," she teased, voice close to your ear.

you turned your head slightly, meeting her eyes. "if i go over, i will scream so fucking loud, and we cannot afford that this late."

daniela grinned. "noted."

then, without warning, she pulled you back before running forward, sending you higher. belle, now sitting on the swing next to you, just shook her head.

you let out a startled laugh as the swing soared higher, the rush of air against your face making your stomach flip. daniela kept pushing, each time adding a little more force, until you were flying up so high.

"okay, okay, that's enough," you called out, gripping the chains tighter.

daniela let her hands drop in surrender. "alright, alright. we can't have you falling off now."

manon, still lazily swinging, chuckled. "i kinda wanted to see that."

"you just wanted to see me bust my ass," you shot back.

"i would've filmed it too," she admitted with zero shame.

daniela laughed, moving to lean against the swing set pole. "you're so real for that."

you rolled your eyes but smiled, dragging your feet in the sand to slow down. eventually, belle did the same, sighing as she tilted her head back to stare at the sky.

"i kinda don't wanna go home yet," she admitted.

manon hummed. "then don't."

belle gave her a look. "and do what? lay in this sand like some kind of playground cryptid?"

manon shrugged. "i mean, we could. just vibe here until the sun comes up."

daniela snorted. "you really tryna be a playground cryptid, huh?"

"i think it suits me," manon said, kicking her legs out lazily. "mysterious figure spotted lurking in the sandpit at 3 am. terrifying."

belle shook her head with a small laugh. "sounds like a new fnaf game."

you leaned back against the swing, feeling the gentle sway beneath you. the night was quiet except for the occasional rustle of the wind through the trees and the distant hum of a passing car. there was something peaceful about it, just the four of you, the buzz still warm in your body, nowhere to be, nothing to do.

daniela reached for your hand again, her fingers lacing through yours. "we could just chill here for a while."

you glanced at her, the dim glow of the streetlights catching in her eyes. "yeah?"

she nodded. "yeah. just... be."

manon yawned dramatically. "if i fall asleep out here, someone's carrying me."

belle scoffed. "you're getting left in the sand."

"you bitches have no loyalty," manon mumbled, stretching out her legs.

daniela grinned. "we have loyalty. just not enough to carry your ass."

the conversation faded into comfortable silence, the kind that didn't need to be filled. you swung gently, looking at the stars in the sky.

after about an hour of lounging outside with the occasional chat, you all decided it was time to head home, no telling what might happen if you actually fell asleep out here. 

"goodnight, friends," manon called as the four of you made your way to your separate cars.

"i had a great time tonight," belle added with a smile.

"same here. we really are the chilliest group," you said, grinning.

"literally, just hit me up if y'all ever do anything. i'm down," belle exclaimed.

"same goes for you," manon replied.

"goodnight," you told manon as she climbed into the passenger seat of daniela's car.

with that, manon and belle got into their respective cars, leaving you and daniela standing together.

"goodnight," you said softly, pulling daniela into a warm hug.

"i'll see you soon," daniela murmured, her voice steady, but her eyes soft.

"yeah, we will," you whispered, reluctantly stepping out of the hug.

you shared one last kiss, a lingering moment of closeness before you both said goodbye. with one last look, you each slid into your cars.

BACK | MAIN | NEXT

TAGLIST 🪩 @saysirhc @wintersgff @sixflame438 @1luvkarina @ihrtantn @yeetaberry127 @urmom2314 @vrtualstar @sed7ction @inybits @ellezra @meganskiendielsbtc @firstclassjaylee @modanisgf @kristalag @chaepu @wtfisthisnoclueman @xochitlisbest @taikabui @hotluvlet

[mykoreanlove]

Mommyyyyyyy!! 😍😍😍

This is the same anon who last year requested the special birthday fic of hyunjin x chan x f reader.....

My birthday again...is coming on 14th March.....

I would really love if you make another birthday fic (you know my bias by now).....

Just surprise me by your writing.....because the fic you wrote last year.....has made me got off multiple times (TMI lol) and your writing us too good!! Please write a smut fic for my birthday 🎂.....I trust your creativity and vulgarity (lol)

Thank you again for last year 🥺😘☺️

BIRTHDAY BLUES

Birthdays are supposed to be special. They’re supposed to be filled with love, laughter, the warmth of friends who remind you that you matter. That you belong.

Mine is filled with silence.

I stare at my phone, the screen glowing mockingly. The group chat is filled with messages—reminders of the party I never intended to attend, my friends begging me to “come out and have fun” because “twenty-something is the prime of your life!”

What a joke.

I toss my phone onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. My stomach twists—not from hunger, but from something heavier.

It’s been months since I walked in on him—my last mistake, my last heartbreak, tangled up in sheets with another girl. And the worst part? I didn’t even cry. I didn’t scream. I just stood there, staring at the person I’d once imagined a future with, realizing that love—real love—might not exist for me at all.

Because this wasn’t the first time.

No, my heart has been a revolving door, an open invitation for disappointment. Every time, I give. Every time, I try. And every time, I end up alone.

So why celebrate? Why pretend? I’m sick of it.

Tonight, instead of fake smiles and forced happiness, I choose solitude. I slip into something comfortable, grab my keys, and leave my apartment without a word.

The spa isn’t even my idea. It’s a last-minute impulse, something to fill the empty space inside me, even if just for a little while. Maybe the salt water will wash away my sorrows, if not I can drown in them.

The woman at the front desk greets me with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

I blink. “How did you—?” She winks. “Lucky guess.” Before I can respond, she taps on her screen. “We have a special package tonight—highly recommended.”

I almost say no. But then I remember the silence waiting for me at home. The empty bed. The thoughts I don’t want to be alone with.

“…Fine,” I mutter. She hands me a robe, her smile never faltering. “Enjoy.” Little do I know, the night is about to take a turn I never saw coming.

The air is thick with the scent of sandalwood and something faintly floral, a fragrance that settles into my lungs as I lower myself onto the massage table. The linen beneath me is warm, almost cocooning, but my skin prickles from something else entirely. Anticipation, irritation—hell, I don’t even know anymore. I came here to drown out the noise in my head, to escape, even if just for a little while.

I hear the door click open. Soft footsteps pad across the wooden floor. I keep my face nestled in the cradle, seeing nothing but the polished planks below, but then I catch a glimpse—bare feet, strong, the kind that belong to a dancer, not a massage therapist. Then the voice comes.

"First time here?"

Low, rich, like warm honey melting over my skin. I don't answer right away, too caught off guard by the way his voice alone sends a ripple down my spine.

"Something like that," I murmur.

I hear the faint clink of bottles, the whisper of oil being warmed between his palms. Then his hands find my shoulders, firm and unhurried, pressing down with a slow, deliberate force that makes me exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

His fingers move with precision, gliding over the knots in my shoulders, kneading them into submission. The metal rings on his fingers catch against my overheated skin, cool and solid, leaving a trail of contrast in their wake. It’s unexpected. Strange. I like it.

"You’re tense," he observes, voice tinged with amusement. I let out a breathy laugh. "Gee, I wonder why." He chuckles, the sound deep and velvety. "Well, you came to the right place."

His touch drifts lower, tracing along the dip of my spine, and I shudder. The air between us shifts, thickens. His hands are no longer just massaging—they're exploring, teasing, testing. My breath stutters when his thumbs press into the small of my back, his fingers spreading along the curve of my waist, holding me in place.

"Tell me if it’s too much," he says, voice softer now, rougher. It’s not. It’s nowhere near enough.

His hands slide down, thumbs grazing the dimples just above my hips, his fingertips digging into my body in a way that sends a sharp pulse of heat between my legs. My lips part, a small, unbidden sound escaping, and I swear I feel him still for half a second.

"Sensitive here, too?" he muses, his tone shifting, dipping into something darker. I swallow, pressing my cheek against the table, not trusting my voice. He doesn’t need an answer. He already knows.

His hands move with purpose now, sliding lower, teasing along the curves of my thighs, pushing boundaries neither of us seem willing to acknowledge. His breath is warm against my ear when he leans in.

"Let go," he murmurs, and when his fingers slip just a little further, I do.

His fingers press deeper, the metal of his rings biting against my skin in the most delicious contrast—heat and cold, firm and teasing. My body betrays me, hips shifting instinctively into his touch, a soft gasp slipping free before I can stop it.

Hyunjin hums, low and knowing. "There it is," he muses, his voice brushing against me like silk. "You’re holding back."

I bite my lip, my hands gripping the sides of the massage table. He knows exactly what he’s doing—pushing, testing, waiting for me to break. And I’m so close.

His touch drags up, slow, deliberate, gliding over the curve of my waist before slipping down again, fingers dancing along the inside of my thighs. My breath stutters. My pulse hammers against my ribs.

"You're so tense," he murmurs, and there’s a teasing lilt to his voice, like he already knows the reason why. His fingers knead into the plush of my thighs, a slow, rolling motion that sets every nerve alight.

I arch just slightly, chasing his touch without meaning to. The moment I do, his hands still, just for a fraction of a second. I hear his breath hitch—just barely—but it’s there.

"Relax," he says, but his voice is rougher now, less controlled. I don’t think either of us believe that’s possible anymore. Then his fingers move again, pushing higher, slipping beneath the plush towel barely covering me. A sharp inhale escapes me as he grips my hips, thumbs pressing into my skin with purpose.

"Hyunjin—" My voice is barely a whisper.

"Shhh," he soothes, but there’s nothing innocent about it. His breath is warm as it ghosts over my shoulder, his lips just barely brushing the heated skin there. "Just let me take care of you."

I shudder, my fingers curling into the table, trying to ground myself, but it’s useless. His hands move like they own me, coaxing, pressing, claiming. My world narrows down to this moment—his touch, his voice, the way my body melts under him.

And then his lips finally meet my skin, and I come undone.

Hyunjin’s breath is molten against my skin, each exhale igniting a fire beneath my flesh. His fingers knead into my hips, his grip tightening, possessive. I’m barely breathing, my body stretched out before him like an offering, every nerve ending strung taut, waiting—no, aching—for him to break me apart.

And then, finally, his lips meet my spine.

Soft at first, barely there, just the ghost of a kiss that sends a violent shiver down my back. Then another—open-mouthed, wetter, warmer. His tongue flicks against my skin, teasing, dragging down, down, until I’m trembling beneath him.

"You’re so tense," he murmurs, but there’s something dark in his voice now, something knowing. His teeth scrape lightly at my shoulder, and I gasp. "I think I know how to fix that."

His hands slide lower, trailing the curve of my waist, before slipping beneath the towel that barely covers me. The moment he tugs it away, cool air kisses my exposed skin—but it doesn’t last. His heat is there, following, consuming, and then his hands—God, his hands—are exploring freely now.

"You’re already so wet," he breathes, fingers teasing through my slick folds. He groans, like the discovery is too much for him to handle. "Did I do this to you?"

I whimper in response, pressing my forehead into the pillow, my fingers clutching uselessly at the massage table. His lips curve against my back. "I’ll take that as a yes."

He spreads me with his fingers, dragging his touch through my arousal, slow and deliberate. My thighs tremble as he teases my entrance, circling, pressing—but never giving me what I need.

"Hyunjin, please—"

"Patience, baby," he coos, but his own breathing is uneven now, his restraint barely hanging by a thread. "I want to feel you come apart first." His fingers find my clit, circling in slow, devastating strokes, his other hand gripping my hip to keep me still.

"Fuck," I gasp, my back arching. "That’s it," he praises, dragging his fingers lower, pressing one inside. My walls clench around him immediately, desperate, needy, and he groans at the sensation. "So fucking tight."

He moves, slow and deep, his fingers stretching, stroking, curling inside me with precision, finding that spot that has my body seizing up, my breath coming in broken gasps. His rings are cool against my burning heat, a contrast that only drives me higher.

"You’re close, aren’t you?" he whispers, pressing his body flush against mine, his lips tracing my jaw. "I can feel you squeezing me." I can’t answer—I can only feel. The pleasure is unbearable, an electric current coiling deep in my belly, winding tighter, tighter—

And then he flicks his wrist just right, and I break.

A sharp cry tears from my throat as pleasure floods through me, my body shuddering violently beneath him. Hyunjin curses, his lips finding my shoulder, his fingers working me through it, prolonging it until I’m a trembling, oversensitive mess.

I barely have time to recover before I feel it—him. Hot. Hard. Pressed against me. My eyes flutter open, my head turning just enough to see the hunger in his gaze, the way his chest rises and falls, the way he wants me. "Tell me you want this," he rasps, his voice wrecked.

I don’t hesitate. "I want everything." And then— Hyunjin’s control snaps. One moment, I’m breathless beneath him, trembling from his touch—the next, he’s flipping me onto my back, the cool air shocking against my heated skin. My pulse stutters when I finally take him in.

Disheveled. Chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. His dark eyes, once playful, are now hungry—like he’s been starving for this, for me. And then he’s on me.

His lips crash against mine, swallowing the gasp that escapes as he presses his weight down, pinning me against the massage table. His tongue slides against mine, hot and demanding, a dizzying mix of silk and sin. He tastes like need—like restraint finally breaking.

"Fuck," he groans against my mouth, his fingers tangling into my hair. "I knew you’d feel like this." I barely have time to respond before his hands are moving again—gripping, spreading, claiming. His fingers dig into my thighs, hitching one over his hip, and God—I can feel him. Heavy. Thick. Pressing against my entrance, teasing, testing.

"Look at you," he rasps, dragging himself through my slick folds, coating himself in my arousal. His forehead drops to mine, his breath ragged. "So fucking wet for me." I whimper, hips bucking, desperate for him to end this torment.

"Hyunjin, please," I gasp, nails digging into his back. His fingers grip my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his. "Say it. Tell me what you want." "You," I breathe, no hesitation. "Inside me." A curse spills from his lips—then, finally, finally, he pushes in.

A sharp moan escapes me as he stretches me open, slow but unrelenting, his cock sinking inch by inch into the heat of me. My body clenches around him instinctively, the sensation blinding—pleasure and pressure twisting into something unbearable.

"Fucking hell," he groans, his head dropping against my shoulder, his hands gripping my thighs so tight I know I’ll have bruises tomorrow. I don’t care. I want them.

He stills once he’s buried to the hilt, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding back. "You feel…" He exhales, his voice wrecked. "You feel so fucking perfect." My fingers tangle into his hair, tugging.

"Move." He obeys.

His first thrust is slow, deep—deliberate. The next is sharper, dragging a cry from my lips. Then he’s pounding into me, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me against each thrust, filling me so completely I can do nothing but take it.

The room is filled with the sound of our bodies colliding, the slick, obscene wetness of my arousal making everything filthy. "That’s it," he grits out, watching me through hooded eyes. "Take it. Be a good girl and take all of me."

My body is unraveling, the pleasure unbearable. "Hyunjin—I’m—"

"I know," he groans, thrusting deeper, angling just right—

And I shatter.

Pleasure detonates inside me, my body arching, my walls clenching around him as wave after wave crashes through me. My vision goes white, my cries echoing through the dimly lit spa room. Hyunjin curses, his rhythm faltering. Then, with a final thrust, he buries himself as deep as he can go, his body shuddering against mine as he loses himself inside me.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of our heavy breathing, the scent of sweat and desire thick in the air. Then Hyunjin chuckles—breathless, satisfied. He brushes a stray strand of hair from my face, his fingers gentle now, reverent.

"Best birthday ever?" he murmurs, smirking. I laugh, still dazed, still wrecked. "You have no idea." His lips curve against my temple. "Oh, I do."

And as he leans in to kiss me again, I know this night is far from over.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxHappy Birthday love 💖 Enjoy yourself lol 💦

[sparklystarrrr]

Random Headcannons of my favs!

Synopsis: literally what the title said, it's completely random and I love my baby boys, more Hcs will be added on as I think of them

Contains: Riddle Rosehearts, Idia Shroud, Sebek Zigvolt

Riddle Rosehearts~

out of everyone (Ace, Deuce, Trey) from the Queendom of Hearts he's the only one with a British accent

he listens to either classical music or, if he's feeling a bit cheeky and rambunctious, I feel like he'd listen to Laufey or some of Frank Ocean's slower songs like "White Ferrari" in his free time

he had to ask Vil about where to get a good quality red eyeliner for his dorm uniform

he's always getting snipped in Cater's magicam pics and ends up in photo dumps where he looks kinda disformed (my man ain't always photogenic, unfortunately)

he knows how to play mainly string instruments but did fancy himself a trumpet in middle school

incredibly gullible to modern humor and doesn't understand it, then gets mad when ppl laugh at him for not understanding (almost exploded at a "ur mom" joke that Ace made "WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY MOTHER??!!")

treats the hedgehogs like his children

has his own way of being snarky and making jokes, and when he insults you he makes it BURN.

loses too many brain cells listening to Ace and Deuce trying to formulate an explanation on why they broke a rule

gets really bad headaches

hates playing Uno with a burning passion because someone always has a card up their ass and says they have Uno; the only card game he will never ever play but can't ban it from the dorm because there's probably a rule saying "all kinds of card games are to be played"

definitely bumped into one of his book shelves before and got burried under books

has a strawberry garden in the Heartslabyul garden somewhere

polishing his lil crown is part of his nightly routine

Idia Shroud~

has a GIANT family and they're all super affectionate w him (his yiayia gives him thousands of kisses on his cheeks and calls him her most handsome grandson and he just stands there not knowing what to do)

HE HAS A SLIGHT GREEK ACCENT BCS I SAID SO.(can you tell I love this man being Greek it makes my heart flutter)

him and Ortho have gaming nights and he likes to let Ortho win most of the time like they're still kids

when he takes a shower his fire extinguishes and his hair is kinda like Silver's except blue and has a slight wave in it, probably a lot messier too

if he loses to a game too many times he hacks the game to make it easier for him to win

uses AI for most of his assignments because Ortho won't help him, says it's better for him to do the work himself instead of relying on AI(obvi he does it anyways and Ortho finds out like a disappointed parent)

he has a sleeper build DON'T QUESTION ME ON THAT this man works with machinery like on the daily and ya'll say he's scrawny like NO I DISAGREE

he either ties his hair or clips it back a lot because he gets too annoyed at his hair when it's in his face

he bites his lips a lot whether out of anxiety or on accident, biting his tongue hurts like HELL

if the wifi or power cuts out he will go full blown panic mumbling mode

a fantastic flashlight

keeps painkillers, eye drops and chapstick in a drawer in his night stand but never goes in it

his hands and feet are so cold

he hides his hands in his hair to warm them up in winter

Sebek Zigvolt~

he rly does love his dad a lot, but his pride is much too big for him to say that

gets yelled at a LOT in class or in the library for being wayyy over the volume level

i feel like he can do really cool tricks while doing push-ups like clapping his hands behind his back or doing push-ups one handed

Malleus is over his devotedness and just prays every day that he can have some peace and quiet(he's one more Sebbie speech from striking him with a lightning bolt)

puts a pic of Malleus above his bed

has a plethora of dragon plushies in carrying sizes, shapes, colors and patterns

probably tries to commission someone to recreate the armor that peepaw Baur gave him in the dream

a lot of the students are scared of him because he's so loud, especially students with animal ears or something that gives them increased hearing(they hear him from more than a mile away... not fun for sensitive ears)

gets embarrassed really easily

had baby hands for the longest time

can't choose between pampering himself to look good as Malleus's knight or to pamper Malleus more than he already does and look gruff and beat up to be intimidating and manly

he does like Silver, he just cares about him in his own way(I saw something similar to this but I don't remember who drew it, but it was Sebek holding Silver up while he was sleeping again and I actually cried my baby boys are so cute)

he had to find a new horse for Equestrian club because the one he had when starting out in the club was too short and his legs touched the ground while sitting atop the horse

knows how to cook stuff but only things high in protein and made for strengthening

eats Lilia's cooking because he honors him too much and then has a stomach ache that feels worse than getting dragged on the burning floors of Hell

speaking of being sick, it's the only time he's remotely quiet. I don't mean he's not loud but he just can't talk at his normal decibel of speaking (everyone is praising the Lord)

i love my silly boys

[heaven4lostgirls]

prompt: more @moonkillermicrofic wc: 541

“Barty, Yes.”

“Barty, No.”

“Yes!”

“No!”

Their argument is drawing attention, wixen alike all turning to see what commotion has been made inside Honeydukes.

Remus refuses to make eye contact with anyone other than the green haired Slytherin in front of him.

Aforementioned green haired Slytherin stands with his hands filled with assorted chocolates and sweets alike with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“We don’t need them!” Remus pleads, eyes widening in what he hopes is satisfactory enough to be called a ‘kicked puppy’ expression.

“You don’t get to decide that!” Barty replies cheerfully, grabbing more of Remus’ favourite sweets and chocolates and making his way to the till.

Remus trods after him, dragging his feet and resisting the urge to whine about how unfair the situation is.

It’s not that Remus is ashamed of the fact that he comes from significantly less money, it’s more-so the principle of the argument.

Remus isn’t used to handouts or being spoilt, and he doesn’t think he’ll get used to it anytime in the future.

“Why can’t you just get me a couple sweets like a normal person?” Remus whispers harshly, albeit with no actual anger behind his voice.

If anything he seems a bit embarrassed.

Barty levels him with a stink eye and a displeased turn of his lips.

“Don’t compare me to other people, they wish they were me.” Barty sniffs haughtily and Remus would like to believe that he’s entirely joking if not for the flicker of determination behind the silver eyes of the younger boy.

“There’s not even room in our dorms to store any of these” Remus complains as they shuffle closer to the till.

Barty turns to him, sharply enough that it has some of the candy in his arms falling out and rolling away from them.

Remus is about to bend down, horrid joints be damned, to pick up the lost candy before Barty tuts with a shake of his head.

He silently casts a charm to levitate all of the dropped candy back into his arms.

Remus looks at him, unamused as Barty only levels him with a hard look.

“I know what you’re doing” Barty states and Remus’ brows furrow in confusion.

“What?” He asks perplexed.

“Let me spoil you, your world isn’t going to implode just because I bought you some sweets of which I have every right to do” Barty says, cool and detached demeanor as always but there’s a troubled look in his eyes.

As if he’s biting back frustration to let Remus know just how much self control he’s actually exhibiting by only buying him a lifetime supply of candy.

Remus sighs, weary and slightly upset.

He shrugs as his mouth unhelpfully ticks up in a short smile, “Okay,” he relents and Barty’s tense form softens at the acquiescence.

They don’t speak until they’ve paid for the candy and have made their way out of the door, Barty’s one hand filled with a large bag charmed to feel weightless carrying their candy as his other hand is intertwined with Remus’.

“Thank you Bee, love you” Remus whispers as he tugs Barty’s hand up to press a chaste kiss onto his knuckles.

Barty only squeezes his hand tighter in his grip.

[technikki]

Could you talk about the mario yaoi to me. I've only got little glimpses from your posts and I'm sadly not aware of the big picture

ABSOLUTELY DEAR MUTUAL i will talk about luisley any day they make me so so sick i love them ihope they EXPLODE.

so this got long but whatever anyway!!! heres skyes compilation of ACTUAL REAL THINGS THAT HAPPEN IN MARIO AND LUIGI SUPERSTAR SAGA FOR THE GAMEBOY ADVANCE.

upon meeting him for the first time, prince peasley gives luigi a rose, accompanied by this line:

the remake has an added detail in a later scene that shows luigi keeps the rose tucked away under his hat for safekeeping. also this rose is used to show the castle guards they are friends of the prince so they'll be granted entry to the castle and is only needed the first time they go there. despite that, the rose remains in your inventory (likely under luigis hat <3) for the entirety of the game

at the end of this same scene peasley flies away on his little winged cushion thing (bean... creature? is it alive? i have no fucking clue) and zips right past luigi, twirling him around on his way out

the second time they run into each other and at multiple other points throughout the game, luigi will get excited upon seeing peasley and start waving his hat to greet him. he waves like this when peasley exits multiple scenes too, while also saying "bye-bye!". peasley is the only character he does this for with any consistency

at one point the mcguffin gets split into pieces and scattered across the kingdom, and mario and luigi offer to help peasley search for them. he makes a bet with the bros that he can gather the pieces before them, prompting luigi to run up to him and go "oh yeah!". peasley takes this as a challenge, apparently, because this causes him to, and i could not fucking make this up if i tried, pull out his sword and repeatedly jab luigi in the ass with it, causing him to blush a very bright red and start giggling like an idiot

note: and i don't know why this is the case, but if you do not progress the dialogue once he starts doing this, peasley will continue to poke luigi for as long as there is no player input. for more info check out prince peasley pokes luigi for 5 minutes on youtube <3

while collecting one of the pieces, luigi comes across a piranha plant that has eaten peasley and defeats it, saving him. note that this scene takes place in an area that you can only get luigi into. the game makes a point of separating him from mario for this scene. for some reason[winks with both eyes

peasley has also been shrunken down here (long story) and luigi thinks of a way to get him back to normal, prompting peasley to say "to think you know such cool moves! you're a real zero... i mean hero!". something interesting about this scene is that peasley's slip-up here varies depending on what language you're playing in. probably the most famous example is the german translation, where peasley attempts to say "hut ab!" (hats off!) and instead says "hose runter" (pants down. no i'm not joking.) my personal favorite is the spanish translation, where he attempts to say "eres ingenioso!" (you're ingenious!) and instead says "eres delicioso" (take a guess). regardless of what translation you play and what peasley ends up saying, luigi becomes very flustered and starts laughing again

one thing about this game is that it was one of the very first games that decided to actually give luigi any actual relevance (the only earlier one ican think of is luigi's mansion. infact im pretty sure that's the only one), he was still known more or less as just marios palette-swapped "player-2" brother, and they decided to lean very hard into this with how he is treated in-universe. it is a running gag that mario is obviously a very well-known and beloved hero, while luigi is constantly being ignored and made fun of, and barely anyone can ever seem to even remember his name. some characters do treat him with equal respect to mario, but peasley is the only character that not only consistently seems to focus on luigi, but also cannot seem to be bothered with remembering mario's name. peasley calls them the mario bros a few times and there is one point where peasley does address mario directly by name, and its a scene that luigi is not present for. which suggests that peasley does indeed remember mario's name and is trying to make luigi feel a little more special which is honestly really sweet and i hate him so much

at one point luigi has to make an emergency leap out of a plane (longer story) and peasley flies up to meet him. a little bird flies by and, because luigi is uniquely hated by the universe itself, pecks through the cord of his parachute and causes him to begin plummeting out of the sky. peasley attempts to catch him, but because he is an idiot with way too much self-confidence and cannot catch a grown man falling at top speed, luigi simply knocks him right off his little cushion thing and they both end up falling. however there is a split second where it looks like he might end up holding luigi bridal style

peasley is able to make a perfect landing after this scene by using his cape as a parachute, but luigi's landing is. not as graceful and he ends up plunging headfirst into the sand, getting stuck. peasley finds this rather charming and proceeds to laugh and comment on his "luigi dunk"

this is another scene where translators decided to have some fun as well: in the german translation peasley calls him what roughly translates to "an amusing little darling" and in i believe the french translation he calls him something like "clumsy but adorable". basicaly he thinks luigi is very funny and very cute

eventually peasley decides he is going to go fight the main villain himself despite being told how incredibly dangerous it would be, because he does not want to impose on the bros any more than he feels they already have. his mother attempts to reason with him but he runs off anyway, causing luigi to collapse into tears at the thought of something bad happening to him

the ending scene of the game shows mario luigi and friends saying goodbye to the beanish royals at the airport. upon seeing peasley, luigi jumps up and begins actually running at him to hug him.

unfortunately, because luigi cannot have anything ever in his life, peasley is not paying attention (idiot) and continues moving upward, causing luigi to faceplant on the tarmac. he cries after this </3

ALSO have to give a shoutout to these panels from the official manga (scans by my awesome friend @/bowletta btw):

(the pink katakana literally says doki doki dude get it together)

(COME ON.)

so YUUUUP basically they're genuinely one of the most inexplicably gay-coded relationships in any nintendo game and i wish more people knew about peasley because he's a really funny character and his relationship with luigi is extremely cute. heart

[thedraculacat]

Forbidden Fruit ೃ⁀⤵

draco malfoy x reader

masterlist

synopsis: it starts with a note; nothing dramatic or life changing- just draco being an insufferable flirt with his stupid little scribbled compliments. except it keeps happening. and then you catch him. soon, you start to wonder (against all logic) if things were different, if he wasn't a malfoy, if you weren't supposed to be enemies- would you still hate him? (spoiler: you're not sure anymore)

w/c: 800

It starts with a note.

You’re not sure when he slipped it into your book, but the parchment flutters out between pages of your Charms textbook while you’re cramming for an exam in the library.

You snatch it before anyone else around can see, fingers tightening around the delicate fold of the paper.

Curiosity wins over any caution. You peek at the writing and your breath catches.

Your hair looks extra pretty today.

There’s no signature but you know the handwriting. Slanted, elegant, just messy enough to prove it was scribbled quickly.

Draco Malfoy- he’s in your Charms class.

You scan the room, but there’s no blond Slytherin sitting near the fireplace or hiding in the shadows. Just your friends, completely unaware that their classmate is apparently exchanging notes with the ‘enemy’.

You tell yourself it’s nothing. A joke, probably. But then it happens again.

And again.

Little notes tucked into your bag, your books, slipped beneath your plate at breakfast. Nothing big, just small whispers in ink.

Did you always chew the tip of your quill when you’re thinking?

That was a rather impressive Levitation Charm today. Though you couldn’t possible get me to admit that out loud.

You should wear green more often.

Each time, you try to ignore the way your stomach flutters. This is Malfoy we’re talking about. Arrogant, sneering, pureblood Malfoy. And you’re a Gryffindor. This is nothing. It has to be.

And yet-

One evening, you catch him.

You’re leaving the library late, arms full of books, when you see him trying to subtly cast a spell on a small note in his hand.

“Really?” You hum, amusement tugging at your lips. “You couldn’t just hand it to me like a normal person?”

Draco straightens his back like he meant to be caught. His face shifts into something neutral and his chin lifts in defiance. “Maybe this one wasn’t for you.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. “Maybe you like the secrecy.”

He doesn’t answer. He just watches you, silver eyes unreadable, before gesturing to the note that’s now sitting on top of your stack of books. 

You place them down and unfold the parchment. It’s not like the others. No teasing, no poetry, just one simple sentence.

Meet me at the Black Lake. Midnight.

Your heart pounds and you glance at him. “Why?”

Draco smirks, but there’s something in the way he nervously shoves his hands into his pockets. “You’ll have to find out, won’t you?”

You almost don’t go.

It’s reckless. Stupid, even. But when the clock strikes twelve, you find yourself slipping out of the castle, the cool night air biting your cheeks as you make your way to the lake.

Draco’s already there, sitting on the grass, his Slythering robes draped over his shoulders like some sort of blanket. He looks up when you approach, his expression hard to read.

“Hey,” you say softly.

“You came,” he replies, as though he hadn’t been entirely sure you would.

You sit beside him, a safe distance away. “Well, you asked.”

Silence stretches between you, the only sound of the gentle lapping of water against the shore. Then, he speaks.

“Do you ever think about how ridiculous all of this is?” His voie is quiet, but there’s an edge to it. “The house rivalries, the expectations, the rules about who we’re meant to be?”

You glance at him, surprised. “Coming from you, that’s rich.”

His lips twitch like he wants to grin but he can’t quite manage it. “Yeah, well. Maybe I’m starting to realize some things are worth ignoring the rules for.”

The weight of his words settles between you.

You don’t know what to say, so you look at the water instead. The moon casts a silverly glow over the surface, lighting the shadowy figures gliding just below. Mermaids. Their silhouettes flicker in and out of view, as if they were ghosts.

“They’re beautiful,” you murmur.

Draco hums in agreement. “Dangerous, too.”

You glance at him. He’s watching the water but his expression is different. Lost in thought.

Maybe it’s the late hour, or the secrecy, or the way the moonlight softens his sharp features- but you forget, just for a moment, that you’re meant to be on opposite sides of a war you didn’t ask to be a part of.

Just for a moment, you let yourself think about what it would be like if things were different.

If he weren’t a Malfoy.

If you weren’t a Gryffindor.

If love wasn’t a forbidden fruit.

He turns to you then, and for the first time, he doesn’t smirk or sneer. His expression is open, honest, and it terrifies you more than anything else ever has.

“Would you still hate me,” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, “if I was different? Not a Malfoy?”

Your throat tightens.

You don’t answer.

How could you?

masterlist

[alexs-life-is-a-bit]

guys what do we think about my coming out letter, please wish me luck!

(my mum is who I'm coming out to and she's transfem lesbain for reference)

hey, remember when i had an "i'm not like other girls" phase? remember when i saw so much of myself in luz, and then she turned out to be gender-nonconforming? remember how i hated bows in my hair, didn’t care about anything feminine, and tried to avoid it? remember when i wanted a suit? how hard it was to find dresses i liked? how i wanted to cosplay as hunter? i know you might not remember, but i do. i remember wishing i wasn’t born with the body i had when i was younger. i thought it was a universal girl experience to wish you had different parts. i thought it was normal to think it would be so cool to be a different gender. i remember hating being called a girl. i wanted to be friends with guys and be seen as part of their group. i remember arguing with people—like sarina and caleb—when they insisted i wasn’t "the guy" in the relationship. i’d say, "i'm the one who wears the pants in the relationship." i remember putting on makeup and not seeing myself. i remember looking in the mirror, hair out of my face, and seeing a barbie. i remember tying my hair up in a hoodie and pretending to be a guy for hours—"as a joke." i remember how happy i was when my friend told me he basically just saw me as a guy. i remember wearing pajama pants and putting my hands in the pockets because it made me feel masc. i thought it was so cool to feel like that, like i had this little thing that made me feel more like a guy. but i also remember loving the way i looked in dresses. loving my long hair. loving the way my legs looked shaved. loving mascara, girly sleepovers, and being a girl. but i hated it, too. i remember wishing i wasn’t either—just me. i remember all the times i wished i had a deep voice. but also loving the way my voice sounded when i sang. i remember hating both. i remember feeling different all the time—waking up some days thinking, "what? why do i suddenly wish i was a boy?" and then the next week, feeling "normal" again. i felt like my past feelings weren’t valid when i started questioning my gender because sometimes i felt fine the way i was. i thought i was just looking for attention—because how could my feelings about gender change? then i found out about being genderfluid. i remember sitting on the floor in late september and thinking, i know i’m not a girl. i felt so uncomfortable with how i looked. for a while, i thought i was just nonbinary. then it switched. it was so confusing. so i thought, maybe i’m trans masc? but how could i be, when i had just loved being a girl a couple weeks ago? i looked into nonbinary labels, and that felt okay—until i started feeling almost sick with how much i envied other guys. then i found the term genderfluid. and suddenly, everything clicked. a lot of genderfluid people love switching pronouns all the time. i don’t. i go by they/them because that’s how i feel 70% of the time, and it makes me really happy. but at the same time, she/her just doesn’t feel right anymore. it makes me uncomfortable, like it doesn’t fit me the way it used to. i know it might take time for people to get used to, but i was hoping that even if no one else does, at least you could call me they. just having one person see me for who i am would mean a lot.

it’s kind of like this: imagine you’ve only ever had vanilla ice cream. it’s good, so you call it your favorite. but then you try a sample of strawberry—and it’s amazing, nothing like what you’ve had before. suddenly, you wonder how you ever just ate vanilla. you realize you love strawberry, but sometimes you still want vanilla. and every now and then, you crave mint chocolate chip, even though people say it tastes like toothpaste. (vanilla is she/her, strawberry is they/them, and mint chocolate chip is he/him.) so yeah, i wanted to tell you—i’m genderfluid, and i use they/them pronouns. i’m still me, but this is a part of who i am. i hope you can support me. i know you've been through your own journey with gender, and i really admire that. i don’t know exactly what it was like for you, but i hope you can understand what this means for me. right now, i’m pretty much out to you, caleb, and half-out to maddi. that’s it. i hope this all made sense. labels might change, and that’s okay. but this is what fits me right now. i love you, and i’m really glad i can share this with you

[that1notetaker]

YES! Accurate portrayal of Johns character, unlocked! Its all I ever needed.

i just think that Blaise would be so, so blasé about so many things. Like he will feel all the intense rollecoaster as everyone else, but he just has that. Cool vibe to him. He clearly can lose his temper, but yeah. Im excited to read more of him. I cant WAIT for Blaise to try and throw Harry off. Theres one non-strictly canon piece of writing you posted here on tumblr where Theo makes a couple of implied mature jokes calling Blaise out that sent me cackling over the hills, and I feel like thats Blaises full influence. Speaking from experience as someone who USED to not have one single nsfw-joke in their head, became very influenced by my friend group, who jokes about it all the fucking time. I remember being so flustered, like Harry is, and I wonder if it was like that to Theo, once. And if Harry might end up rolling with the punches at some point. Right after the gay panic. Lmao.

ALSO YEEAAAAH. EMOTIONALLY IMPACTFUL SCENES MY BELOVED!! Fuck the plot, who cares. Give me ten chapters of these two just having a fun time and Ill be happy. (I say, as I currently write…*squints* twenty pages worth of one single plotless-based Nottpott scenes.)

i cant wait to see how your version of these events happen. And ofc, great minds think alike lmao(? Its simple. Its effective. If it works why change it. Also, I love how you aleady have so many things and scenes planned, man.

I DREW THE WIDE EYED DOE HARRY LOOK AT THE LIBRARY AND I FELT SO AWKWARD BECAUSE I COULDNT HELP GRINNING LIKE A NERD. AUGH. Im glad you liked it!! And that today was better, hopefully.

Ha, all according to plan B))) Trick the author by…(checks notes)…being enthuthiastic and inspired by their content. Yeah.

@wixenforever @jundsthoughts Can you guys tell I love scenes where Harry and Theo say idgaf to their respective house rivalries, ultimately choosing each other? Yeah.

In canon, Harry just went through a lot of isolation during year 5. And, you know, the rest too. But this was a next level, and Ron and Hermione were busy with their things too, so it felt particularly striking. Good thing Harry met Luna. I dont know if you plan adding Luna as plot relevant, but in my head, shes probably there, also giving no fucks, and maybe joining the table alongside these two or something.

I love Botl Blaise, I cant wait to read more of him. Here, Blaise proceeds to also not give a fuck. John goes to the rescue. Draco draco’s. Theo gets over some uncomfortableness for a friend’s sake and Harry fucking appreciates it. Seamus—is a scared kid going through it and lashing out. Luckily for him, Theo is somewhat merciful and chose the pacific route this time. Also Severus the Long Suffering is there too. Hi Minerva.

[morphean42]

I tell and laugh at 9/11 jokes because the actions of the US Government after the disaster were horrific and we shouldn’t act like the only victims were those who died in the towers. You tell and laugh at 9/11 jokes because you have been brainwashed into thinking it’s just a big meme and doesn’t actually matter. We are not the same.

[strawberryraviegutz]

Ngl it’s hella weird that so many ppl are being extremely sex negative/anti BDSM(not sure if it’s even actual BDSM but idk)about the new banner and even going as far as to compare it to sexual assault…

You can dislike something without shaming/making fun of ppl who’re excited about it along without contributing to purity culture, misogyny/internalized misogyny, and cringe culture.

Since Day 1 Love and Deepspace has always been for women and or afabs to explore their sexualities in a world where women/afabs seeking out anything sexual(or even romantic)whether it be in fiction or irl is seen as taboo, dirty/filthy/unclean, and or shameful. Especially within parts of Asia.

Men are allowed to get straight up hentai tattoos and no one says anything but whenever women/afabs have crushes on/simp for/selfship with fictional characters and or consumes nsfw content of them then we’ve “gone too far” or, “are so delusional/cringe” and get told that we’re mentally ill as an insult and that we should “go to therapy/get help” because of our “parasocial relationships with fictional characters”(and over a period tracking feature within the game out of all things..)

It’s important now more than ever to have more media like this to be created as to lessen the stigma around female sexuality. ESPECIALLY with everything that’s going on in the US right now. Shaming women and or shaming other female/afab fans for enjoying this stuff only contributes more to the problem. You’re not inherently better than anyone for not being into the type of things others may like.

“Infold is mischacterizing-”

First of all idk where yall got that from they seem the same to me, just with more different personality traits/changes added. Plus that’s the point of an Alternate Universe/Reality. AUs are different than the universes we know. Also THEY MADE AND OWN THE CHARACTERS.

There’s a difference between something just not being your thing and contributing to misogyny towards women/afabs in fandom spaces. Just because you’re not into/don’t like something doesn’t mean it’s “not normal” for others to celebrate Valentine’s Day like this. I swear women/afabs can’t do anything without you mouthbreathers demonizing us and saying that we’re inherently predatory/unsafe to be around for thirsting over/selfshipping with fictional characters.

[flaming-thing]

Honestly I love that

She really is lmao

Oooh shields enchanted with ice sounds so cool, and it'd explain why he wasn't able to just pull it out after

HE DOES!! I'd never noticed that before. Slightly off topic, but his horns?? Are so stubby?? Shorter than raylas?? It could just be a girls-grow-faster thing, but still?

Idk 😭 ik that's how they do it in canon, I just cant even begin to imagine how itchy/painful that's gonna be later on if it burnt his skin

Oh my gods the second one would be so funny. So so funny

I was talking about when you said 'No killing, maiming, or torturing required!', I meant that I didn't know ram had it in him to not kill/maim/torture someone

I feel like his entire character is driven by being petty lol. Maybe not to the extent of stealing his knife back, but with the amount of height jokes people make? He's gotta be at least a but petty

To quote runaan, 'her heart isn't hard enough' (which is an entirely good thing)

It's just gonna reappear in umber tor or something halfway through season 4, and he's gonna do a double take before being like '... MY KNIFE'

Different Path Taken Ch17 P3

Another section! This might be the last one and I might need to make another chapter for any more antics in the village, at this point the three sections are 4.5k words long altogether, so. They should be done unless I wanna add the leechleaf scene though, since a lot of what the boys go through isn't any different than the show. After this, it's off to report to the other assassins.

Ram found Rayla stalking after the man in an alley near the edge of town.  She had been careful to remain out of sight, and the two of them quickly made their way to a rooftop to follow him when Ram’s presence made him bolt.  It was almost too easy, running light-footed across the rooftops, leaping from one to the next, herding him into an isolated part of town.  Ram’s blood lit excitedly with the chase.

They cornered him almost too soon.  He whipped the dagger out and turned to face the alley, and Ram smirked down at him and glanced at Rayla.

“I’ll go down behind him,” She signed, silent, and grinned back at him. 

“When he turns, I’ll drop in on his other side,” He agreed, also signing, and gestured for her to go.  She bounced over to the wall behind the man and dropped down behind him.

He whirled around to face her, brandishing the dagger. “I won that money fair and square,” He said defensively.

Ram dropped down behind him. “Oh, we’re not looking for money.” He drawled, and the stranger stumbled, turning so he could see both of them with his dark eyes wild with sudden fear.

“Then what do you want?” He demanded.

“We want your help.” Rayla said firmly.

With a glance between them, the human slowly straightened up, his fear morphing to skeptical curiosity. “With what?” He asked warily.

“That dagger.” Ram said.

The human started to back up again, and Rayla held out her hands to stop him. “Wait!  We don’t want tae take it from you, we just want to borrow your blade to cut these.” She held out her hand and showed him the binding on her wrist, tugging it away from her glove. 

“Oh, you just wanna borrow it, huh?” The human said skeptically. “Do you know how valuable this thing is?”

“Oh, yes,” Ram growled, still rankling at seeing his fucking knife being bandied about, used in bets and swindling, by some human.  He bit back his urge to claim it, not wanting to be identified as an elf.  It had his name inscribed on the hilt in elvish script.

Rayla held up her hands again. “Fine, you hold it, just cut these things off us,” She begged him.  Ram wondered if she was intentionally playing up her youth to gain sympathy from the stranger.

The human straightened up again, giving her a critical look. “But it’ll burn you.”

“I don’t care.  Just do it, please!” She pleaded, holding out her wrist.  The human finally relaxed a little bit more, and nodded carefully.

Ram saw what was happening just in time and stepped around between them. “Absolutely not.  We’re trying mine first.” He said firmly to Rayla. 

Rayla scowled at him. “This whole thing was my idea,” She argued. “An’ your gloves are important, you have tools in them.   Mine are just gloves.”

“If this doesn’t work, Runaan will be furious if I bring you back to camp with a burned arm and nothing to show for it,” Ram said. “I’m not willing to take a chance with you.”

Rayla scowled deeper. “Either he’s mad at you or I am.” She said flatly. “Who’d you rather take your chances with?”

She looked like an angry shadowcub when she pouted like that, but she had laid Ram out often enough in training that he winced at the idea of being on her bad side.  That said, she could be a jerk to him, but she didn’t actually have any authority over him, and Runaan could do both. “You.” He said just as flatly. “I’m not arguing with your father, Rayla.”

She looked ready to spit, but she folded her arms and stepped back. “Fine.”

Ram turned towards the human, who fortunately had not run away while they argued, and who was looking warily between them.  He held out his wrist. “We’re not taking questions.”

“Right.” The human said, and took hold of Ram’s hand to steady it.  Ram balled it into a fist to disguise how his fifth finger wasn’t really there, and braced himself as the heat drew closer to his wrist.

Predictably, as the human tried to set the blade to his wrist like he was slicing something, his glove caught on fire first and he had to jerk free to put it out.  He hissed with pain but doubted his skin was actually burned beneath the thick leather. “Don’t slice, idiot, it’s a sunforge blade, all you have to do is set the heat to what you actually want to cut.”

“You know a lot about these blades, do you?” The human asked warily. 

Ram scowled at him. “Never mind.  Try this.” He tugged the binding away from his glove, wincing at how it bit into the back of his wrist, and held his arm out again.

The human carefully threaded the knife into the gap and tried to cut the binding free.  Ram’s glove once again caught fire, and Ram snarled through the pain until the human flinched away from it and lost hold of the blade.  When Ram flinched too his binding snapped tight again, pinning the searing blade to his wrist, and he felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him as he stumbled backwards.

Rayla caught him and yanked the dagger free of his binding, his wounds instantly cauterized in its heat, and Ram felt like his voice was just burning on the inside as he quickly fell to his knees to pin his hand to the snow.  He put out the fire and just left his burning wrist down there, shuddering as he breathed through his teeth. “It’s no use.  We can’t cut them.” He said, eyes burning with a combination of pain and helplessness in the face of having this slim hope snatched away.

“Are you okay?” Rayla asked worriedly from above him.

Ram shook his head. “Burned, but I’ll be fine.  Good gloves go a long way.” He winced as he looked at the condition his left glove had been left in, halfway to tatters on the inner side, but stood up and dusted himself off nonetheless.

Rayla looked from the dagger to him to the human and back to him.  She carefully handed it to him. “Ram . . . the dagger.  It is yours, it’s got your name inscribed in it.”

“I knew it!” The human gasped. “You’re elves!”

Ram sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, and at least Rayla looked appropriately ashamed of herself.

“Rayla, go meet me where we agreed earlier.” Ram said firmly. “I’ll handle this.”

Rayla hesitated, giving him a hard look. “No killin’, Ram,” She reminded just as firmly. “No maiming either.”

“We’re just going to talk.” Ram promised her. “Just go.”

With one last searching look at him and a frown, Rayla obeyed. 

Once she was out of earshot, Ram turned to face the human, who was half–crouched and looking once again wild-eyed and terrified. “Please don’t hurt me.  Just take the dagger, just let me go.” The man begged.

“I’m not going to take it from you.” Ram said though it felt like pulling teeth, and backed the man up until he fell down into the snow and cowered there.  Ram crouched in front of him and showed him the blade. “I’m going to give this back to you.”

The human glanced from him to the dagger. “What’s the catch?”

“You’re going to keep your mouth shut about us.” Ram said, patiently, voice deadly soft, holding the human’s gaze with his own. “You’re the only one in this town who’s managed to see through the illusions hiding us, so believe me, if the torches and pitchforks start coming out, I will know who told everyone.  We’ve already gotten what we need from this little village, and we’re leaving.  You’re going to keep quiet and let us leave without any trouble.  If you don’t . . .” Ram slowly sank the knife into the stone on the ground between them. “I will come back for you.  And it doesn’t matter how far you run, how well you hide, or how fast you get there.  I will find you.  And when I do, you will wish I had just killed you now.  Do you understand?”

The human nodded jerkily, breath coming in harsh pants.  Ram flared his nostrils and could swear he smelled piss, and his lip curled with disgust.

“I want you to say the words, human.”

“I - I understand.” The human said shakily. 

“So what are you going to do once I leave?”

The human trembled. “N-nothing.”

“Try again.”

Sweat was dripping from his brow now. “I’m - I’m not going to tell anyone about you or - or your girl.”

“Oh, she’s not mine.  But close enough.” Ram snapped his right hand out and grasped the man by the jaw to enforce their eye contact, digging his finger into the hinge of his jaw. “Any questions?”

The man opened and shut his mouth once before daring to ask, “Is the knife actually yours?”

“It was.” Ram admitted, and tightened his grip on his jaw until the man whimpered. “So appreciate that I’m leaving it with you, and keep your mouth shut.”

The human nodded weakly, as best he could with Ram’s grip on his jaw.

“Good.” Ram let go of him roughly and strode out of the alleyway without a glance back until he reached its mouth.  When he did look, the human was still trembling in the snow.

Good.  They would be long gone by the time he regained his senses enough to tell anyone about them or come after them, and he’d be a laughingstock in the town if they couldn’t be found.  Ram smirked to himself and went to rejoin Rayla and the humans at the statue, though his smirk faded quickly as he remembered their respective missions.  With only dried leechleaf in the village for Andromeda, he hoped the humans had found better news for the egg.

[honestlyitsjustsam]

favourite moments of bg3 -> (6/?)