#won't tag the rest as they're less mentioned

[canary-song]

So I've been thinking about

Spiderverse and the developement of its supporting cast.

And now I'm going to make it everyone else's problem! Today, unsurprisingly considering my track record, I'm going to discuss Peni and Noir from ITSV, and then Hobie and Peni from ATSV, with focus on characters as stereotypes of genres/ideologies.

Let's begin!

Into The Spiderverse is a great, self-contained story, but in terms of Spiderverse, it's also our introductory movie, and I believe this effects how the story is told in terms of its supporting cast. (As a warning, I will be discussing Noir and Peni in this section without much mention of Ham as, though I believe these points might apply to Ham as well, I haven't read his own comics and thus am not familiar enough.)

Noir and Peni are, in ITSV, personifications of their genres. I mean this with no disrespect, but its evident that they are, first and foremost, representative of their stories and styles moreso than they are characters with much depth.

Starting with Peni, I do know that others have discussed this in terms of her before, but she is quintessentially the bubbly anime girl contrasted against a cast of american comic/movie characters. This isn't specifically my issue, but it's more that this facet of her is highlighted moreso than mostly anything else - her place in the SP//DR program is referenced, along with the death of her father, but ISTV spends no good deal of time until the end evaluating how these things might effect her. She's mostly stagnant, about equivalent to how she was at the beginning by the time she leaves, with the only major difference being the loss of her robot.

And then there's Noir, who I have, as friends will know, discussed consistently to be a character treated as 'Spiderman cardboard cut-out with a bucket of 1930s aesthetic dumped over him'. Though ITSV gives a very fun interpretation of his character, playing up the drama, it also doesn't escape said issue in terms of treating him as more an aesthetic than a product of his times. He's written with even less space given for his backstory, supplying no particular comic details beyond punching nazis, and any references to the emotional turmoil of his character are reserved to the 'moral ambiguity of your violent actions' gag. Similar to Peni, he has little to no character developement and only a smidge of emotional dialogue, which is mostly only present near the end with saying that he loves the rest of the spiderpeople (undercut by another Not Knowing Colors joke, but I digress).

I am not arguing that this is poorly done and negatively impacts ITSV - it doesn't, to me. It's still well told, and this story doesn't suffer from underdevelopement because there's so much else it is doing. This is, as stated earlier, the introductory movie. Peni Noir and Ham are examples of the wider, diverse Spiderverse, and they're personifications of their genres because they're short-hand for telling your audience that the multiverse is vast, setting expectations accordingly. ITSV doesn't need to do the hard leg-work of making them all 3-dimensional because that's not the point of this supporting cast, at least not yet.

So let's talk ATSV, Hobie, and how that changes.

Hobie is another example for "Characters as personified stereotypes" (even if its not a genre this time, and instead more an ideology) because his character, at the beginning, is all about being an anarchist, an anti-fascist, and an Over The Top punk. He plays into it as is what's expected of him, both from the people around him and, to a degree, us the audience. He's his beliefs personified in the most comedic, low depth lense possible, but over the course of ATSV, as everyone knows, his true personality and motivations reframe how he's been previously characterized;

It's not shallow writing, and he's not 2-dimensional, with all of his jokes being instead an active choice. He still stands for (mostly) everything he's joked about, but in a far more genuine and real sense, going out of his way to watch out for Gwen and Miles, and take all steps necessary to support them and plan for jumping ship. He's only a joke because he makes himself one.

This leaves us with one final example, being Peni in ATSV, who I'm bringing up as another contrast despite her (more or less) minute and a half of screentime. Because here, I think we can more clearly see how the way ATSV is told is different from ITSV - she's experienced her 'canon events', and the version of her that we meet in ATSV has developed into something with more depth than she had previously, given the chance to appear solemn, tired, and under the strain of her Responsibilities. She's, in this way, more comic accurate, and her own life is given more weight than her sparkly anime aesthetic.

ATSV can do these things, giving characters like Peni, Hobie, Pav, Margot, Miguel, and Jessica Drew all their own distinct lives and motivations, because ITSV did the ground work of establishing the story and themes beforehand - giving ATSV more time spare to give us multi-faceted supporting characters.

Does this mean BTSV will continue this train and give us more developement for the characters we've not gotten much of? Maybe! I'm just excited to see where this story can go now that it feels its found its footing and isn't having to sacrifice depth for story, and instead is able to balance the two.

[barleyo]

Build-A-Bride.

Enji Todoroki X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: i can't stop writing broken enji... he's so depressed and lonely i LOVE it ^_^ isn't he just so dreamy? all downtrodden and sad? anyways this is so half-assed, sorry!

Tags: dub-con, forced/arranged marriage (sort of), age gap, mostly plot tbh (minimal smut), brief mentions of dehumanization, breeding, creampie, p in v, size difference, language barrier

Wordcount: 1.8k

Women don't like divorcés. It's a mark of failure. It brings down one's stock value. Enji's mistakes with Rei were numerous. He knew it was for the best, that he had nothing to fight for when she had the papers mailed to him. Why would he argue with her about it? The kids had all grown up and moved out. Their assets were easily separable. She did not ask for much in the split, and even if she did Enji would have given it up without pushing back. 

He was a man defeated. What point would there be in chasing after Rei again? He did not love her; not truly, at least, and she certainly did not love him. They had been living stagnantly ever since she was released from the hospital. It would be a feat for them to even speak to each other over breakfast. Idle chat about the weather or what their adult children were doing was a rare treat. 

Enji's life had slowed significantly. No children to fill his too-big-for-one-man house and no woman to be kept company by. Work had slowed down. Younger heroes took the top spots, slowly but surely. Even his own son was predicted to soon surpass him. Old timers, or "Golden-Age Heroes", as the media titled them, were losing fame and fortune alike. No longer the hot commodity, old was out, new was in.

He expected it, really. His goal was to be the number one hero, and he was for a while. Was it his dream to remain number one? He didn't have time to think about it before he got knocked down to a measly third place in the ranks. 

He had thrown so much of himself into the hero life. It crossed his mind a few times, it all ending, but he never realized that it would come crashing down so soon. What friends he had, using the term very lightly, were less than helpful in his condition. 

None less so than Hawks, of course. That damned fool.

Keigo had been dragging Enji out to these annoyingly quaint cafés for a while now. He'd force piles of biscotti and scones onto Enji's plate while blabbing on about some new excursion of his or the other, taking up the prime hours of Enji's day in the name of socializing. 

Seldom it was that Enji left the impromptu meet-ups with anything but slight annoyance at best and utter exhaustion at worst. He could hardly pay attention to the meaningless drivel Keigo threw his way. Sometimes it was talk of the current hero ranks, which Enji immediately tuned out. Other times it was about a concert or movie Keigo was going to. 

Lately, though, Keigo had an interest in trying to play matchmaker for Enji. 

"You should really get out there," he said, smug little smile plastered on his cheeky face while he sipped his espresso. "You aren't getting younger."

Enji's response was the same as always, in that he was too busy and too old to be worrying about such things. "I do not have time to woo a woman like a schoolboy. I'm fine where I am," he responded with his arms resting on the café's comparably small table. 

Keigo chuckled, curling his lips upwards. "You can only spend so many nights with your right hand, Endeavor."

"Shut your damned mouth."

"If you won't let me set you up with someone," Keigo said, not taking Enji's gruff tone seriously, as usual, "there is another option."

Enji pressed his mouth closed tightly, eyes narrowing into a judgmental squint. "It had better not be online dating."

Defensive hands flew up. "No, no. You've made that pretty clear, man. I'm talking about getting, like, a mail-order bride or whatever they're called."

"You do realize how much that sounds like human trafficking, right?"

"It does not! They still do it, you know. There are websites and everything." 

Enji sighed and leaned his head back to look up at the ceiling. The idea sounded horrible. God only knew how sketchy something like that would be, and besides, how horrible were the moral implications of that? Some old bastard like himself purchasing a young girl like a farm animal. 

It wasn't completely unheard of. Plenty colleagues of his had foreign brides ordered for them. Even his own cousins had done similar things. Hell, he wasn't far off from trying it out to get the perfect quirk marriage before he found Rei. 

But now? It sounded cruel. Unnecessary. He already resented himself for how he treated his family— he didn't need to ruin the life of some other woman too.

"I am not going to order a wife," he said, voice strained, "like a spare part off of eBay. Do you not see how horrible that would look on me?"

Keigo waved his hand dismissively, unbothered. “It’s not like that. These women are looking for a chance at a better life," he explained before teasingly adding, "just like the lonely men who send for them." 

Enji stared at him, trying to decipher if he was serious. “You really think I'm desperate enough to buy some random woman?"

"Don't think of it like 'buying.' Think of it as rescuing. How will the press feel about that, hm? Imagine the headline: ‘Endeavor, the hero with a heart, saves a foreign damsel in distress by bringing her to Japan to live a new life of riches and mind-blowing sex!'"

"You disgust sometimes, you little brat."

Keigo leaned over the table, teeth flashing briefly as he spoke. "Just think about it, okay? I'll send you some links tonight." He got up and pushed his chair in with his foot. "Besides, I'm tired of being your only friend. These little 'dates' of ours are cutting majorly into my work." 

Keigo had compiled a ridiculously long list of websites and companies that specialized in international marriage deals. He had definitely committed to the bit too much or he had researched this topic heavily before presenting it to Enji via text.

Either way, Enji peered at his cell phone screen in distaste. Link after link, scrolling through the masterlist Hawks compiled, he just felt more unsure of the idea. The names of the sites left a strange feeling in his gut. 

GoldenBride, Rose Brides, Latidate. For fuck's sake, UkraineBride4You dot com? "Legitimate & Cheapest Mail Order Bride Sites! Click here for more!" 

He clicked his phone off. The light from the vibrant ads and taglines disappeared from his face as quickly as they appeared, leaving him in the dark of his bedroom. He didn't speak, he just stayed in his bed, leaning on the headboard in silence. 

He had gotten used to his house being quiet. It was never especially loud, but at least when the kids still lived at home, he could hear the sounds of life. Of Shoto's feet padding through the halls. The sound of Fuyumi's books opening and closing. Natsuo's grumbling under his breath. Proof that he had gotten them all this far— that he had done something right for them. 

No. He couldn't stay this way, living in the dark silence, figuratively and literally. He turned his phone back on and clicked the highlighted link with the least concerning name. 

Well, you were just the perfect little thing, weren't you? Young, pretty, doe-eyed, and sweet. After perusing a website that looked less criminal than he thought it would, Enji decided on you. He had to have you. 

You stood out immediately from the pages of other women. All of them were, of course, gorgeous. They would not be advertised if they weren't. You, though. There was something about you. You were small—Enji liked that—but not frail. Built for carrying children was what you were, he decided, with your soft curves and buxom build. 

Your profile did not give much away. Basic information and a little greeting. It intrigued him enough, so clearly it worked. 

The two of you chatted for a few weeks, if you could call it that. There was little getting to know each other and more plane tickets being purchased and pick up times being arranged. To say that you had him hooked was an understatement, especially considering the only tools you had to connect with him were shitty translations of your language to his from Google and emojis. 

Everything about you read as gentle. Docile. Probably the only personality Enji was equipped to deal with. He would just die if married to a combative woman. His enemies would love to see him nestled up with a loud, abrasive one with a temper to match his own. 

No, you would do quite nicely, with your limited speaking and non-provoking nature. You were the perfect escape, a blank canvas onto which he could project his hopes for a new life onto. He could start a family over again. He could fix his mistakes and move on. Maybe, just maybe, he could forgive himself.

The flood of ideas filled him each time his phone buzzed with your messages, even if they were often short and punctuated by misunderstandings and screwy sentences due to poor translations. He found himself counting the days until your plane would take off to bring you to him, to his home. He had plans for you.

Things moved quickly with your new husband. Just last week your flight landed. Then you were  saying "I do," and now he had you bent in positions unimaginable. 

He worked fast. His hands were large and rough, but God, they were efficient. Thick fingers rubbed at your clit. A thicker cock  prodded at your entrance. You wriggled beneath him a bit, eyes widening at the stretch. 

You didn't have the words to tell him you were a virgin, but you didn't have the desire to stop him either. 

"Hold still, you," he said, voice gentle in comparison to how rough his strokes were. "You've got to let it adjust." 

Even if you could understand his words, the heat burning your ears drowned out any sound completely. Fullness filled you everywhere. Like a missing piece you never knew you didn't have. 

"Ah, you still aren't broken in yet for me," he muttered to himself. He watched as your struggles to swallow him into your walls. "Virgin, yeah?"

You mumbled incoherently to yourself, feeling his words cast over your face. More or less, you understood the tone of his words and hummed in agreement, hands playing with your tits absent mindedly. 

Pain tinted moans escaped you. Enji felt good, sure, but a warmth of discomfort passed through you with every inch of him. Your mind told you yes, but your body tried to reject him. He was simply too big, and too much. 

Not that it would stop him. 

He spat on his length to ease the friction. A steady hand stayed over your clit, abusing it to the point of overstimulation. He wanted this to be pleasurable for you, but he had a goal in mind. 

The load or two he had pumped into you earlier wasn't enough. He wouldn't dare give up yet, especially not with the adrenaline rush hearing you whine gave him. 

Besides, your plane ticket was expensive. He planned on getting paid back in spades.

[whumpitisthen]

Whumper who is part of the team 💞

I left a bit of a tag dump on a largely unrelated post about how much I adore Whumper who is part of the good guy team, and I have decided to make a post about it as the more I think about this concept the less normal I become so here it is

Whumper is part of the team, but everyone knows to be wary of them

Although they are dangerous, scary and even sadistic at times, everyone agrees that having their power and intelligence on our side is much better than to have them be on the enemy team instead

Because of what they bring to the team — and also because everyone is a little scared of them — Whumper's faults are a little easier tolerated than other teammates', and a young Whumpee who always gets in trouble and hasn't really had the time to get to know Whumper might find this blatant favouritism a little frustrating

Whumper also doesn't have to train all the time, or be present for strategy briefings, or to even really go out on missions with the team. They are always on their own, left to do their own thing, go on special, dangerous missions and the rest of the plan the team must follow tends to center around Whumper

A rookie Whumpee may be annoyed that Whumper gets to do all that, they may become curious of what Whumper really does, or even start idolising Whumper, because they are clearly so strong and smart and trusted, they must be so cool. They probably should not do any of that.

Nobody bothers Whumper when they're in a bad mood. Nobody enters Whumper's room under any circumstances, especially not alone. Nobody shall mention "the previous Whumpee" around Whumper. If Whumper is in a strange, unsettling mood, and seems a bit too friendly and interested in you specifically, you excuse yourself and make a swift escape from the situation. Call Leader if Whumper won't leave you alone. These, and many more rules are set in stone at HQ, and Whumpee is more than a little terrified of Whumper every time they learn of another weird unspoken rule that everyone knows to follow

Whumper loves rookies, and tends to play up their mysterious, dangerous persona in front of them for fun. A disgruntled Medic bumbles something about not letting Whumper get to them, but Whumpee has been sufficiently got to already, staring at Whumper with wide eyes

For whatever reason, Whumper and Whumpee are on a solo mission together. Whumpee is intimidated by Whumper, a little scared that they will follow up on a threat or insinuation they had made before about hurting them, but what actually happens is that Whumpee gets to witness first-hand the brutal efficiency and cruelty with which Whumper works, watching as they tear through the problem effortlessly, mowing through an operation that would have taken the rest of the team a whole week and careful planning to succeed at. Whumper tells them this was just a small favour, nothing major. They finally start understanding Whumper, and why they are such an important part of the team

Whumper leaves for a while, and Whumpee's first time hearing about them is through a desperate team begging them to come back when they face an unkillable, unspeakably powerful threat that they tried and failed to stop. Whumper shows up last minute, and fixes the issue in the snap of a finger with a smile on their face, mentioning how Leader could've just told them how much they missed them and they would've come back

The absolute, horrid carnage Whumper leaves after 'fixing' the team's issue leaves the whole team speechless, suddenly reminded in a massive, unbelievable show of strength and cruelty of just how powerful Whumper truly is. Whumpee has a lot of questions about Whumper for the team after that, namely: who the hell was that?; what the hell did they just do?; and oh my god, what the fuck?

After days of missing, Whumpee is found in Whumper's room tied to a chair, evidently kept there and tortured. Whumpee is so glad to have been found, yelling about how Whumper has always been so weird and unsettling, and how they bullied them and abused them all the time, and how they can't wait for them to be gone, but Medic has to tell them with an aching heart as they fix up their countless injuries that they always knew Whumper hurt them, and that they can't do much about it. Not even Leader can get them to behave without fucking up the system they have in place, and they simply can't afford to do that to the entire rest of the team. The best Whumpee can do is avoid them, or leave the team altogether — but Whumper might go catch them again if they try.

Whenever the team fails to interrogate someone, Whumper is sent in. They are always successful. Whumpee is sent down to ask if Whumper found out what they need to know, and is horrified by the state of the prisoner. Even worse, once they hear everything they need to know, Whumper ushers them out, ready to continue the torture. Whumpee innocently asks them what for if they already know everything they need to, and Whumper pauses to grin at them and ask if they want to join and see.

For a more found family type team: Whumper joins the dinner table for the first time. Everyone falls quiet. Or alternatively: Whumper stops having dinner with them. Whumpee grows concerned and brings a plateful up to Whumper's room. They do not appreciate it as much a Whumpee thought they would. This can go in so many different directions from soft fluff to just horrible awful times

Whumper reminds Leader of how voluntary their subordinacy is by roughing them or a teammate up a bit and showing them how helpless they would be if they decided to get on Whumper's bad side

Whumper is Leader.

Whumper is Medic

Whumper is indesposable

A hostage taken from the enemy confesses to how badly Whumper hurt their own teammates all the time, and shows some very nasty scars Whumper left on them too. The team is horrified

Whumper has something to hide, so they don't let their ex teammate spill anything, killing them before they can, or shutting them up any time they try

Whumper has nothing to hide, and listens with a grin as all their past cruelty is brought forth again. As if the team that they work for wouldn't already be more than aware of all that and more. Well if they weren't, now they can add all that to the list filled with their more recent cruelties

Whumper "accidentally" hurting Whumpee all the time. Whumpee is intimidated into not saying anything about what's really going on

Whumper slowly softening up to their new wholesome team. They can eventually grow fond enough to not be a colossal asshole to them all the time. Or they could go more in the "if anyone but me dares to hurt these idiots, there will be hell to pay" direction

Whumper is a cat. They claw at kind hands for no reason, they get the zoomies and cause chaos, they need to be fed on time or they become pissy, if they fall asleep on top of someone that someone will simply have to stay deathly still and wait for them to wake up because Whumper hates being woken up and once or twice a month they bring home half alive prey they caught to show off and play with. They also purr. If i have anything to say about it

They aren't close at all with the rest of the team yet. Whumper being here is a new thing. Everyone is on edge. It is unpleasant to share a room with this fucking maniac. Their eyes find teammates who they have history with, lingering on scars, or even fresh wounds hidden under clothes that they know fully well will never fade. Their smile is knowing and spiteful

"Does it hurt still? The cut I gave you? I remember how you screamed; it must ache still. How lucky that we are on the same team now, wouldn't you agree?"

No one knows Whumper at all. They are like a ghost. They show up, they do their job, they disappear. One day, Whumper stumbles into Medic's, and wordlessly climbs onto the table. Medic fixes them up with as few words as possible, and after a long, uncomfortable stare from Whumper, agrees to never say a single word about this to anyone

Whumper is a fighter. They live for the battlefield, having a little too much fun mowing down hordes of people. This is Whumpee's first time seeing them in action, and they can't help looking away right before Whumper crushes a defenseless, already incapacitated enemy's skull under their boot

Whumper knows the team way way way too well. They did stalk them for years before they joined. They know just how to get under their skin, and it's both infuriating and terrifying

Anyone who tries to break in at the dead of night answers to Whumper. The rest of the team may not even find out about the spy who tried to infiltrate them for a couple weeks, before Whumper decides to offhandedly mention that they have a hostage in their room and they are ready to talk

Here's the unhinged tags that inspired this if anyone wants to see

Masterlist | Ko-fi

[dovveri]

sun-kissed

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 5 • part 6 • part 7

synopsis: an unexpected arrest deters filming for day 4 so instead, y/n and sana spend the day together. almost like a date?

warnings: mentions of child pedophilia! suggestive, cursing - i forget to tag that alot bcs its in all my fics but just assume its always there oop

w/c: 5.2k

a/n: okay this took me way longer than it should’ve to write but i think it’s maybe my favourite chapter so far… or maybe i’m soft rn 🤭 enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

could they have made any less of a scene?

the sirens have stopped but the blue and red lights continue to blaze as you stand in shock with the rest of the contestants while the cops raid the mansion.

sana had been taken away by the producers as soon as the police cars had pulled up.

when they're finally done checking the mansion, they walk out a cuffed wonsik. his head is down, refusing to look at any of you, hands behind his back as he's shoved into the back of the police car.

none of you had a clue what was going on, you were all enjoying the third rose ceremony and nothing could've predicted where this night had led you.

eventually, after the police have long driven away, the producers return with sana who looks a little shaken up. you head towards her immediately, wrapping your arms around her shoulders, but she can't seem to face you, eyes blank as she follows the producers instructions for everyone to come back into the mansion.

"sana? sana?" you're trying to get her attention, shaking her slightly.

she snaps out of it with a blink, looking up at you in confusion, "hm?"

"you okay? kinda lost you back there."

"mm yeah i just- it was just really unexpected."

"what was?"

she nods her head towards the producers who are now standing in front of the leftover contestants preparing to make an announcement.

"okay guys so we only just found this out but wonsik has been arrested on charges of owning child pornography, engaging in pedophilic acts, and sexual assault of a minor. the police have searched the house and confiscated all of his items and any incriminating evidence they could use in court. as you all know, we do conduct background checks on all contestants before they are accepted onto this show, and we apologise that this incident has been overseen. we won't be editing wonsik's arrest out of tonight's episode, but he has obviously been eliminated. we'll take tomorrow off filming to allow you all a small break and please do let us know if you have any concerns moving forward with filming."

what the actual fuck?

as soon as the producers are done with their announcement everyone is talking on top of each other, trying to figure out just what the hell happened and how this happened under everyone's noses.

"did you know?"

"holy shit i never saw that coming out of him-"

"man its always the quiet ones that are the most fucked up-"

you turn to sana in shock, feeling much like how she had looked just a little earlier. "sana?"

she's still a little distracted when she looks at you, "hmm? i'm tired y/n. let's go back home?"

you're nodding quickly, leading her away from the aftermath to the quiet cool of the outside air. you wave down your driver and quickly lead sana inside, stuttering out directions to your villa and sitting back, sneaking a glance at sana who's looking out the window with glazed eyes.

the drive back is silent save for the low hum of the engine. you're a little surprised when sana shuffles closer to you, linking her arm through yours and placing her head on your shoulder, still not saying anything.

you take her hand in yours, interlock your fingers, and lean your head on hers. the rest of the short drive is spent like this, the silence is thoughtful, but not awkward.

even as you arrive back at the house, your hands never leave each other's, you lead her towards your shared bathroom and brush your teeth side by side. only letting go of each other when you both go to start your nighttime skincare routines.

sana has a much more intricate routine than you because of her obsession with all things health-related and her need to take care of her skin well. so you finish earlier than her, mumbling a quick goodnight while she's still bent over the sink and moving past her to retire yourself to bed.

you close all the blinds, intending to have a full night's rest and wake up late tomorrow because filming was cancelled, climbing under your sheets and sighing at the feeling of soft fabric against your skin.

your eyes are slowly drifting shut when your door peeks open, and sana's slipping in, closing the door behind her, shrouding the room in darkness again. she tiptoes to the edge of your bed, lifting the cover and sliding inside, cold feet come to entangle themselves with your legs, shuffling close as you get a whiff of her night serum, the sweet, tangy smell of mandarin subtly descending upon your senses.

"this is okay right?" she's murmuring against you, you're lying face to face, eyes sleepily open while your eyes readjust to the darkness, making out the soft curl of her eyelashes and the perfect slant of her nose.

you hum against her, sliding an arm over her waist and pulling her closer, resting your foreheads together and closing your eyes comfortably.

you think she's drifted off to sleep after a few minutes, but she speaks up in a whisper, barely there, you wouldn't have heard her if you weren't almost lip to lip, "y/n?"

"hm?"

you feel the soft breath of her sigh against your lips, "i... i should've known... he- i could've put him away faster- i gave him a platform- he was on national television and oh y/n, kids the kids he took advantage of could've seen him on tv and thought-" she's slowly panicking the tone of her voice getting shakier as she spirals and allows herself to voice her thoughts out loud for the first time, "-thought that he was in the right that it was okay that there were no consequences and then i kissed him oh my god i kissed him y/n and what kinda message does that send like-"

"sana sana baby shh, shh c'mere-" you're pulling her into you, tucking her head under yours and she starts crying and shuddering, hands twisted at the collar of your shirt.

"i just- like what's worse is i actually liked him-"

"mm no no sweetie stop stop. listen no-one knew what he was okay? it's not your fault you fell for him you can't blame yourself for that. he literally came here with the intention of making you do that you were just another one of his unlucky victims okay? and look, once this gets out on the news he's not going to have that platform anymore okay? in fact he'll probably hate that he came on here because he's going to be even more infamous than if he had stayed anonymous. we can only be real and truthful going forward so that those poor kids are validated in their feelings. he's going to be put away for a long long time now and he's not gonna have the chance to pull any more of that shit okay?"

she's sniffling into your shirt, listening to you talk and soothe her. you continue whispering sweet reassurances into the night, waiting for her to calm down.

she sniffles again, finally looking up at you, eyes red and snot dribbling out of her nose, your heart aches, "can we go out tomorrow? just us, like old times."

you smile at her request, nodding and pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead, "of course baby. we can go do whatever you want. i promise i'll be yours for the whole day."

she's smiling, thanking you softly and closing her eyes. you wait to hear the her breath slow into quiet even snores before you stop stroking her hair, just holding her against you and closing your own eyes. drifting off to sleep with the adorable mimimimi sound she lets out only when she's exhausted and sleeping well.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

the next morning the both of you wake up around 10am, a comfortable time that allowed you to sleep-in, but not so much that you'd miss out on the entire day.

some producers stop by to check in on sana and go through a small debrief of everything that's happened and what they have left to film in the show.

you can tell she's still a little on edge and wants to get away from everything as fast as possible so you politely ask the producers for time off today and to leave the both of you alone until tomorrow since no filming was happening anyway.

eventually, they're leaving and sana's throwing on casual white pants, a light cardigan on top of a knit button-up, sunnies, grabbing her prada handbag and she's ready to go.

you're lucky you have so many things at your disposal, even multiple cars in the garage to pick from as you grab a random set of keys and click unlock. spotting a white convertible respond with its headlights flashing twice and leading sana towards the car, hopping in. sana's mood has already improved greatly, bubbling with excitement as she lists off some names of a couple restaurants you could try in town for lunch. you smile at her nodding along and humming as you start the engine, pulling out of the garage and onto the valley road, turning on the radio and laughing at the way sana almost jumps out of her seat, neck craning up, eyes closing, letting the wind sprinkled with a hint of sea salt blow through her hair, breathing in a deep breath of satisfaction.

you know you're meant to keep your eyes on the road but it was empty anyway and sana looked so so beautiful. you traced the slope of her nose, down to the curve of her lips as she smiles, the sharp lines of her jaw, and the smooth plane of skin at her neck.

she's peeking an eye open at you, laughing when you realise you've been caught, her giggle high and airy. you loved her so much. and it was getting harder and harder to say that to her without it meaning something a little more.

you're pulling into town soon, she's babbling excitedly and pointing at things that interest her with the curiosity of a child, you're trying to find parking and smoothly drive into an angled spot just in front of the restaurant you had both decided on.

you're jumping out of the car and running to the other side to get her door, and she's giggling and smiling when you take her hand, pressing a sweet kiss to her knuckles, and helping her out of the car.

you enter the bustling shop hand in hand, smiling kindly at the waiter who greets you and ushers you to a table situated next to a large window, allowing a picturesque view into the bay area with a couple fishing boats coming back in after an early morning.

you continue your act of chivalry, pulling out her chair before she sits, and then walking over to take your own seat across from her.

you both glance over the menu enjoying the hum of a busy eatery.

"do you know what you want yet y/n?"

the words on the menu were quickly meshing together, lots of french and seafood terms you wouldn't be able to take a first guess at the meaning of. you pout and shake your head.

she giggles at your antics, "it's okay i'll order for us." she's waving over the same waiter who greeted you at the door, then listing off a few menu items, her french sounding poised and elegant, though you knew she had not-so-secretly spent a year obsessing over french ballet and had even taken up a few lessons herself, only to realise she was much too clumsy to continue it. she had thanked your mutual friend mina for the gracious lessons but resorted to attempting to learn french as an outlet for her obsession.

"-leave out the pickles in everything. and that'll be all thankyou."

your heart picks up a little at the small gesture. you despised anything with pickles in it, and she knew that, making sure you wouldn't have to pick out any of those sickly green slices.

you smile in thanks when the waiter leaves with your order, only to come back quickly afterwards with a bottle of chardonnay which she pours into two elegantly carved wine glasses she's brought along with her.

you raise your eyebrows at sana, questioning the alcohol, but she only sits forward, propping an elbow up on the table and leaning her head into it with a smile.

"day drinking?"

"what? i'll drink yours if you don't want it."

you roll your eyes at her affectionately, taking the glass and sipping, humming at the sweet and tangy bitterness that fills your mouth.

she copies your actions with a beam, setting her glass back down and licking her lips. you follow the action.

"is there anything else specific that you wanted to do today?" you're asking her, taking another sip from your glass.

"mm, not really. i don't mind as long as i'm with you."

"glad to know you're feeling well enough again to flirt."

"oh always with you baby. you're the only one for me."

"that's a bold faced lie and you know it."

she pouts at that, and you can't help yourself, leaning forward and pressing lightly on her bottom lip.

"stop that. put that back in there."

she licks your finger and you hiss, pulling away quickly in mock disgust while she laughs, "please you've made me suck on your fingers and now you're grossed out?"

the waiter decides to come with your first dish at that exact moment, a light dusting of pink on her cheeks when she overhears sana's comment, you don't fare much better when you flare up in embarrassment, hastily wiping your finger on your skirt and babbling out a loud thank you to the waiter.

you glare at sana who's trying her hardest not to laugh, no shame whatsoever, shaking in her seat at the effort of keeping it in, her lips pursed and eyes twinkling.

"you're so going to get it when we get back." you mumble as you stab into a mussel on the plate in front of you.

"awwwwh poor baby's embarrassed, don't worry, mommy will make it better."

your fork drops at the term and you feel yourself going extraordinarily red. she's laughing now, loud and boisterous, drawing the attention of a few onlookers and you throw your napkin at her, whining and slinking back into your chair trying to hide your face.

it's a few seconds after you've folded you arms across your chest and tucked your chin in, willing the heat in your cheeks to go away while staring into your lap, that sana's stopped laughing.

she picks up a mussel with her fork and holds it out to you, leaning forward onto the table again, eyes bright making an 'ahh' sound.

you turn your head, not giving her the satisfaction of paying her attention, but she's persistent, "c'mon y/n. i'm sorry i won't tease anymore i promise."

it's no surprise that you can't resist her, rolling your eyes and opening your mouth, accepting the fleshy piece of seafood and chewing. she's smiling and poking her own piece to put in her mouth, humming at the taste and making sure it was to your liking as well.

the rest of lunch is spent like this, playful and fun, it's good to be able to feel like yourselves again after all the hectic film shooting.

you're standing up to grab the bill after you're both finished when sana shakes her head at you, "i got it already don't worry."

"huh? what do you mean?"

"i told the waiter earlier in french so you wouldn't know. just let me treat this time? i still haven't really been able to thank you for coming along with me for this."

"what? sana this was like... a one hundred dollar meal at least. don't be silly let me pay you back."

she's humming and putting her cardigan back on, standing up and walking in front of you, "pay me back by winning something for me at the arcade?"

you sigh, grumbling along as she giggles at you, taking your hand and leading you out of the restaurant, thanking your waiter who still looks a little off-put by you, and walking down the street to where you had spotted the small arcade earlier.

you purchase a hefty amount of arcade tokens and get straight into all the classics. sana just barely won air hockey against you, jumping and whooping with every goal, you have to take off your jacket midway through the game, sweating as you try and focus on hitting the little puck. you get her back on the dance machines though, you can't keep in the laugh when she somehow ends up sprawled on the floor, limbs tangled and missing every following beat.

you cycle through the arcade, speeding through mario kart and midnight run, shooting with abysmal accuracy at the gun games, trying your hand at some of the more unique japanese arcade games they have (which sana completely destroys you at), and eventually ending up at the wide variety of claw machines.

sana's pulling you towards one with spy x family collectibles, and you furrow your eyebrows in concentration as you try to get the small anya keychain for her.

she's giving you instructions from the side of the machine, trying to give you as much perspective as possible before the time runs out and the claw drops. you wait with baited breath as it grabs the keychain, comes back up with a whir, and then... the keychain falls out at the bump at the top of the machine.

you don't even hesitate when you push in another token, determined to win this one thing.

sana's with you the whole way, her reactions only getting more and more expressive with each loss.

you're probably on your 9th try, the claw grabs onto the keychain, lifts it up, and with a whoop the keychain's falling successfully into the claim box. sana's caterwauling and jumping into your arms and you lift her up in glee, spinning her around once before setting her back down. you bend down to pick up the keychain, presenting it to sana with a flourish, and then she's kissing your cheek and squeezing you against her in a hug, thank yous spilling out of her in rapid succession.

you giggle against her, hugging back, relishing in the contact.

after you exchange your arcade tickets for prizes, you head down towards the docks, stopping for some ice cream before making it to the boardwalk.

there are a few other couples doing the same thing, and when you nod politely to an elderly couple holding hands, you're hit with the abrupt realisation that you and sana must look like a couple right now. unless people were homophobic, then you'd just be a couple of close friends, maybe roommates.

you're suddenly hyperaware of the sweat starting to collect on your palm, releasing her hand and wiping it on your skirt when she looks at you with a cocked head, mid-lick of her ice cream cone, eyes wide.

you switch your own ice cream cone to your other hand so it looks like you had an excuse to let go, avoiding her questioning gaze.

eventually you both decide to sit down at the end of the boardwalk, legs dangling over the edge and looking out across the bay. there weren't any boats currently docked in so you had a clear view of the blue vastness in front of you.

sana's leaning in and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

"...what?"

she doesn't speak, her eyes darting down to your own ice cream cone and back up.

you roll your eyes and hold it out for her.

she's grinning and sticking out her tongue to lick a long strip along the side of your cone, humming in satisfaction.

"wanna try mine?"

"i'm okay thanks."

she's pouting and you can't have that so you lean in and lick some of hers, cringing at the overly sweet taste of artificial fairy floss but the smile she gives you afterwards makes up for it.

you both sit back and enjoy the light afternoon breeze, a calming presence after the hectic running around you did at the arcade.

"i missed this." sana speaks up first.

"me too."

"things have been pretty crazy with the house. i'm really glad that you're here with me though."

you turn to her and smile, "i'm glad you let me come."

"of course. the home visits later on are gonna get a little crazy. every season those are always full of drama."

"do you know who you want to end up there yet? your final four?"

she hums, thinking for a little, "still not really. we have... nine- wait no, eight since wonsik's a pedophile. so jacky, eunji, jihyo, momo, jun, jiwon, nayeon, and dae."

"it's a good mix i think. they all have different types of chemistry with you."

you're distracted by a buzz on your phone, taking it out and opening your messages.

miyeon: y/n!!!!! i just saw the news about wonsik! its everywhere rn r u guys okay?

"who's that?" sana's looking at your with a curious lilt in her voice.

you hesitate to respond, knowing how she reacted the last time you and miyeon were together.

"oh just my uncle. he's asking what to get my mum for her birthday later. you'd think he'd know since they're siblings but..." you trail off, typing a quick response back to miyeon.

y/n: it was crazy no one saw it coming! the producers called off filming today.. probably so they can deal with all the legal disputes that'll come up bcs of this

you tuck your phone back into your jacket, ignoring the new messages you get. you could respond to miyeon later. today was meant for you and sana.

sana's sighing and leaning her head on your shoulder, "wish i wore swimmers. it's such nice weather and the water looks soo good."

"we can head back and go for a swim in the pool if you want? we haven't had a chance to use it yet. may as well get the most out of being the main character on this show."

she's up in seconds, grinning, all fatigue gone as she practically prances back towards the car, only turning back to yell at you to hurry up.

you beam at her, running to catch up, laughing and smiling, just the two of you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

sana's yelping when you cannonball into the deep end of the pool, splashing her with cold water in your wake.

"y/n!!"

you break the surface grinning and laughing, trying to splash more water on her.

"sto- stop! y/n oh my god-"

"hurry uppppppp! it's not cold if you get it over and done with!"

"no! i need to put on sunscreen first!"

"sunscreen? it's 4pm!"

"there are still UV rays at this time! i don't want to die from skin cancer and if you're a good girl you'll get out and let me put sunscreen on you too."

you narrow your eyes at her while she's lathering her legs with the white cream.

you decide to ignore her, diving into the pool and resurfacing a few times, splashing around by yourself while she takes her sweet time. to be honest, you're glad for the coolness the pool offers you, when sana first stepped out in her pale yellow bikini, you had felt your cheeks blush all the way up to the tips of your ears. you'd avoided her gaze quickly, instead opting for racing her outside and jumping in right away.

now that she wasn't watching you though, you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted over to her. she had finished with her legs and was now applying lotion to her arms. you traced the outline of her-

"y/n!"

you startle in the water, and she's looking at you curiously when you make a sort of weird strangled sound and water goes swashing around. "y-yeah?" you clear your throat, hoping you weren't as red as you felt.

"can you help with my back? i can't reach." she's looking at you with a dangerous pout, eyes pleading.

you mumble incoherently as you swim towards the shallow end, stepping out of the pool and grabbing the sunscreen bottle from her, gesturing for her to turn around while she grins at you.

you squirt some of the lotion onto your hand, rubbing it diligently into her back. you knew how much she cared for her skin, and even though you cared significantly less for your own, it mattered to her so you had to make sure you did a good job.

the problem arose when you started reaching her lower back. the pressure you've been applying becomes considerably less when you realise just how close you are to sana's ass. sana's very very attractive ass, only emphasised in these bikini bottoms.

"feeling shy y/n?"

"s-shut up."

"you can do my ass too if you want y'know. it's not like it's anything you haven't felt before."

you can picture the cheeky smirk on her face while you recap the sunscreen bottle after you're finished. and really, you just felt like you had to do something about that so before you know it, a hand's coming down and smacking her, a loud resounding slap followed closely by sana's yelp.

you're jumping back into the pool, trying to push the image of her cheeks rippling in the most perfect way to the very back of your mind.

when you break the surface again with a bubbly laugh she's still standing by the side of the pool, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face.

"did you just spank me y/n?"

you stick your tongue out her in defiance, sending a splash of water her way.

"oh you are so dead!" she's jumping in now, and you're scrambling away trying to put as much distance between you two as possible. but she closes in quickly, tackling you underwater and pulling you down so you're both submerged.

you're grinning and then you're laughing, but not in a good way because her fingers are at your sides tickling you and digging into all of the sensitive points in your body she's discovered over the time you've known each other.

you spend the next few minutes trying to one up one another, droplets of water flying everywhere, noisy screeches and laughs sounding out. you're lucky this mansion of a house was situated in the valleys with no neighbours or you most definitely would've gotten a noise complaint.

eventually, you decide to call a truce, cheeks sore from smiling, stomach sore from laughing. you float onto your back, closing your eyes and letting out a loud sigh in comfort. you can feel sana floating next to you, your heads next to each other, hearts beating in tandem.

she’s speaking up after a minute, "cats or dogs?"

you snort, "i don't mind."

you can hear the whine in her voice, "just pick one."

you hum thinking about it for a little, "whatever suits my lifestyle better i guess. if i'm really busy with work or i have to stay home a lot then probably a cat. but if i have a big backyard or something then probably a dog. knowing me though, i'll probably end up with cats. i'm too lazy to keep up with the energy dogs have."

"not with me though right?"

"what? of course not with you. also, you're not a dog sana."

"people say i look like a shiba inu."

"that's not the same thing."

she giggles a little before sighing, "you suit cats. okay. it's decided. we're getting a cat when we go home."

"huh?!"

she's breaking into high-pitched laughter again and you can only find yourself to be slightly concerned over whether she's being serious or not. you could deal with that at a much later date though. you drift back into a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the night wildlife slowly wake up in the valleys next to you.

"y/n?"

"hmm?"

"i love you."

your eyes are opening now, heart rate picking up. there's no reason to panic right? she meant it as a friend. a friend. so why was it so hard to say it back to her? as a friend?

instead, you say, "enjoy our date that much minatozaki?"

she doesn't respond with the same teasing tone you're expecting, "i really did." all honest and pure.

you're gulping, "...me too."

you know she's standing when you feel light waves push against your body, so you lift yourself up, looking at her puzzled, but she only goes to stand in front of you, grabbing your arms and wrapping them around her waist.

you let her, squeezing slightly and dropping your head onto her shoulder, your eyes drinking in the pinks and oranges of the sunset.

"you're not gonna say it back?"

you stiffen behind her, "what?"

"you know what."

she's tightening her hold around you even before you try to subconsciously escape.

you let out an almost-laugh breath, "...i love you too sana."

"was that so hard?" she's turning now, pupils dilated when they meet yours, pink lips slightly parted, noses almost touching.

you're shaking your head no, breath caught up in your throat.

a crinkle appears between her eyebrows, you have the urge to smooth it out, "are you lying?"

another shake of your head.

you feel her breath against your lips as she lets out a soft exhale, the tightening of her hands against your forearms helping ground you, if only slightly.

"i hope one day you'll be able to tell me the truth." you're confused, what was she talking about? "for now i guess this is fine." and then she's leaning in and pressing her lips against yours.

its almost an automatic reaction now. your mouth is moving against hers even before your brain registers you're kissing.

she's sweet, she always is. but this kiss is a little different. it's not filled with passion or heat, not like all your previous kisses that have always led to tangled limbs and heavy breaths. it's soft, tender, like she's trying to tell you something with her lips. you just weren't particularly versed in this form of sana communication yet to be able to tell what that was.

when she breaks away, the sun is dipping behind the horizon, her forehead leaned against yours, breaths coming in shorter after the lack of air.

she shivers a little when a cool gust of wind starts up.

"inside?" you ask.

she nods, letting you go, and following you out of the pool to dry off.

the rest of the night, even when you end up sprawled on messy sheets, sweat coating your bodies and arms around each other, your lips still tingle from her kiss in the pool. you fall asleep dreaming of small kittens, ice-cream, and sana.

[bonefall]

Do you think the clan cats having less kits per litter/less litters in general (they already have less kits than real cats) would fix the bloated cast issue? Because I look at Ginga and the cast is also bloated and only a few characters have offspring but the author keeps making other dogs join Ohu and refuses to kill the old as fuck dogs

I don't think there's any one particular "solution" for stopping bloat in series that manage large casts through generations like Ginga or WC, it's actually a few things

The #1 MOST important thing I think about bloat, though, is that it's about a ratio of quality to quantity. NOT raw size.

A long while back I made a couple of allegiance lists for certain eras. In spite of my Clans having the same (or even higher!) population as canon, I NEVER struggled with those lists being bloated. If anything, sometimes if a Clan's below 30, they look too small.

(I'm sure you can find those lists if you look, they're probably tagged BB!Allegiance, but they might be a bit out of date)

That's because in BB, there's dozens of HUGE cultural additions to Clan life. In "administration," alone, there's 3 new major divisions of skills (hunting, cooking, construction) ALL with their own "head" of that patrol, plus canon's leader, deputy, and Cleric. Not to mention subtitles like the Educator and maybe a Chaperone/Permaqueen!

So to bring it back to that "Ratio Theory," If our Clan is 30 cats, those 8 major roles immediately give at least a slight amount of character to a little over 25% of our group, with each role being something that the other 75% of cats can desire and compete for.

Canon's measly 3 is 10%, and you can ONLY vy for deputyship if you want any power. There's nothing else to BE ambitious about.

You can make the ratio higher by having hobbies, drama, skills, arts, etc. Basically; characterize background characters! Which should be obvious!! Give them traits that are useful and interesting and show the community being valuable.

It won't feel like "bloat," it has the sense of communities living their lives. Even if they go quiet for a while, when they return (just look at how much people like seeing Sedgecreek or Hallowflight mentioned lmao) it feels like meeting an old friend again.

WAYS TO MAKE BLOAT FEEL WORSE;

Giving too many "opportunities" to old characters.

Think of every relevant role a cat gets as a meal, and the bigger the role the more they've eaten. If you're only giving value to your old fanfavs, you're not doing much for them because they're already full while the rest of your cast starves.

Haphazardly killing off characters.

I actually strongly resent the "trend" where people conflate good storytelling with an author's willingness to suddenly kill characters off. I think it comes from the same place as needing to "outsmart" your audience.

If you kill off a character with VALUE, an unfinished arc, interesting connections, it's just unsatisfying. The Erins have this problem of killing background characters with some established lore or value (like Harelight and Briarlight) while leaving uninteresting background nobodies behind that they never build back up.

Before killing a character, ask yourself what their role in the cast is, and their dynamic with others. Try not to axe them without a plan to fill that "role" and/or comment on their absence. Replace what you take.

EASY REPLACABILITY

This one is HUGE, this is why Ginga is so bad with this. If a bunch of dogs die, 100 random soldiers can replace them from somewhere. That is REALLY bad, because all the random influxes of new characters do not have a chance to replace what was lost.

It also makes death feel cheaper. Oh no! Background dog 7446 got eaten by the newest type of bear. This won't make battles harder to win or cause us to lose any valuable skills though. Also a new dog just walked in from offscreen.

Population Growth outpaces Death Rate

AKA your cast is growing too fast and you're not getting rid of old characters. This is what anon was asking about-- and it CAN help to make births less frequent and litters smaller. Make sure to pair with preventing lots of new, adult characters to casually wander in, too.

ALL of these tips have exceptions and places where they can (and should) be subverted and broken. But these are just things I think about

[mayisgoingnuts]

MT!ROY

I decided to accept that he's not that deep (/hj) and made my own version of him, mostly because of lore reasons.

TW for mentions of CSA and parent issues

Tagging the crew @merwynsartblog @clownazon @sunny6677 @bulldog-geckorahhhhh @catsockpuppet @royphobia @luzxii @articus-icecream

Leaving the info under the cut because it's long

PERSONALITY/HIMSELF

— His "toughness" changes depending who he's talking to. He'll easily be an ass to people who he can clearly beat up, but it changes if it's someone his age for example. The only thing that makes him truly chicken out is if he notices that he has ZERO, NO chance or if the other person is clearly nuts. Other factors can creep him out aswell but then it's specific.

— Gray-ace, experiences sexual attraction very rarely. However he doesn't care enough about labels to search more about, and simply thinks that he's bisexual.

— Roy is more of a cat person but also really likes dogs. He just finds both of them dumb and funny./pos

— His vision isn't THAT bad right now, but it'll get worse with time. He does forget, but when he notices it he pretends not to.

— Resting pissed face.

— Tends to stim whenever he's too happy, either verbally or physically. He'll either start to stutter a bunch of gibberish or move his hands, normally pulling his sweater.

— 97% of the things he says with his friends would get him hated on the internet. Most of them are fucked up jokes. (<- don't feel bad for his friends they're just as fucked up they laugh their asses off)

FAMILY

— Vanido comes from Carmen, while Richelieu comes from Richard. His uncle is named Charles Richelieu, and is Richard's brother.

— Talks more easily to his dad than to his mom. Although it's mostly either short talks or awkward.

— Roy does loves them but still wish they were nicer and "less annoying". It mostly goes to his mom.

— Charles was a "disappointment" to his type of family and consequently Carmen disliked him, but Richard still has an attachment since they were quite close. That's also why he trusted Roy to go visit him by himself sometimes.

— Carmen almost ended up being more strict than she already is, but harsher demands caused Roy to actually express sadness, discomfort or panic, which made her feel bad and give up.

— They don't like him wearing eyeliner because they think it doesn't fit him at all.

— The only reason Roy won't stay up late (since he gets to be alone) it's because his parents won't let him. If he's caught awake after 00:00 he's scolded, and depending on how many times consecutive, grounded.

SCHOOL

— Studies in a private school and can't tolerate half of his colleagues. There's some cool ones there, but meh.

— Roy already participated in a LOT of school activities, or just activities in general, because his parents wanted him to. It includes violin, golf, advanced classes, swimming, badminton and ice skating. He hates most of these, but has a 'special spot' for badminton.

— Cheats a lot. He has the potential to be smart, but prefers to not take the effort to not explode./hj

— Most teachers don't like him and he's fully aware of that, but every year there's atleast ONE who'll hold a grudge after a single misbehaviour and then proceed to annoy him for no reason.

— Hates the uniform. It has short sleeves and he doesn't like short sleeves. Plus he just finds it ugly.

MENTAL HEALTH (?)

— Neither Roy or his family knows about his BPD or autism, in a diagnosis sense. They just think he's stubborn and going through puberty at maximum, while Roy himself just doesn't know nothing about it. He knows a little about autism because Robert's family is autistic, but assumed he has nothing to do with it for being the complete opposite of them.

— Has a horrible habit of pulling his own hair when too angry and/or stressed. Ross and Robert try to make him stop doing that, and to not have them to worry, Roy decided to try something else, such as biting his cap. It works, but only does it sometimes because he feels like an animal (/vneg) and because he's afraid he might ruin his hat.

— Roy nowadays feels really shitty in the dark thanks to the mansion. It's not exactly scared, more like uncomfortable. Feels worse if it's a big space.

— Roy already fought with Ross and Robert once, and it ended up making him see them as the wrong ones and just bad people because of a single fail. He hated staying by himself, and had thanked God that they decided to approach and apologize, because Roy didn't had the guts to.

— Bullying other kids without being stopped makes him better as he finally feels like being in charge of something.

— As much as Roy finally "knowledged" his own SA, he didn't fully did. Since his struggles with his family are more obvious and constant, that part ended up being "pushed aside" and he still finds it not a big deal; specially because Roy didn't even know what was happening at the time. He'll only face it in the future.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Firing on All Cylinders

Week #16 Prompt: Concert & Rain | Word Count: 3000 | Rating: T | POV: Jeff | Characters: Jeff, Goodie (Freak), Gareth, Steve, Eddie | Relationships: Jeff & Goodie, Background Steddie, Mentions of Previous Gareth/Di (OC) | CW: Language, Mentions of Previous Addiction | Tags: AU, Famous Corroded Coffin, 1990s, On Tour, Slice of Life, Jeff and Goodie are Best Friends Who Talk About The Problems of Their Other Friends, Rain Show, Road Manager Steve Harrington, Eddie Loves His Guitar and This Rain is a Real Problem

June 8, 1995

"Looks like real rain today," Jeff says, standing in front of the hotel window. 

It's really fucking coming down here in Tulsa, so much so that Jeff can't really see much beyond the edge of the windowsill. 

As his dad would say, it's going and blowing.

"Rain? You think?" Goodie says, then adds, "What gave it away? The torrential downpour?" 

Jeff laughs. Asshole.

They've been lucky so far and haven't ever had to play in the rain, at least not rain like is forecasted for tonight, but that's clearly gonna end today. 

"It's basically a hundred percent chance all day long," Goodie says from the couch, less snarky this time. He's reading the morning paper that had been dropped off at their room door. 

Jeff rests his forehead against the cool glass, contemplating everything that is bound to go wrong tonight, now.

"This is gonna be a problem," Jeff finally announces, still looking at the sheets of rain hitting the windowsill.

"No fucking shit," Goodie answers, "Eddie's gonna be a real pain in the ass about that precious guitar of his."

Jeff nods, because Eddie is undoubtedly going to be exactly that, "I'm gonna call Tim. See if we can head this off at the pass."

And he picks up the room phone, scans the contact sheet that Steve left with them, and calls the room with his guitar tech in it.

"Tim, is Artie there?" Jeff asks, sitting in the office chair, swiveling slightly.

"Yep. We're already on the same page," Tim answers immediately, and they probably are. Artie's been Eddie's guitar tech long enough to know how he's gonna react to the prospect of pouring rain during an outdoor gig. "Sweetheart would be fine, you know? All your guitars will be fine. We can prepare for this, we have time, and we had ample warning that it's gonna be like this. This is the best case scenario. Seriously. This isn't a surprise storm, and so far, we aren't looking at lightning."

"I know, I know. And I'm not worried about my guitar. I trust you. But Eddie's not gonna play her in the rain. You know he's not," Jeff says, because they all know that. They do. It's never gonna happen. Sweetheart is more than a guitar, and Eddie will have nothing risking her. 

Especially not after the broken neck debacle. She's already been bunged up by touring, and thankfully fucking fixed, but Eddie's not gonna purposefully drown her.

"We know he's not," Tim says, "so we'll make arrangements."

"Good, good. What do you think? I'm thinking we have three options," Jeff says, "One, you run out and buy Eddie something new in town. A throwaway. Something he has no emotional attachment to."

Tim is relaying the idea to Artie, and Jeff can hear Artie disagreeing, which Jeff gets. Eddie won't want to play a guitar he doesn't know, "Same page. Two, he plays Hercules. I think this is fifty-fifty, depending on his mood. Or three, we get him some options ready from my spare guitars on the trailer. That way he'll be familiar, at least."

Jeff hears them murmuring, mulling it all over, and then they agree that those last two options seem the most likely. They're gonna call a meeting later, once they get a hold of Steve for the logistics, but they'll be ready for either. Or if Eddie surprises them. But he won't. 

Jeff is just settling down on the couch next to Goodie when the door swings open, Gareth poking his head in, "It's gonna rain all day."

"Is it really? I had no idea," Goodie snarks, and Jeff smiles. 

"Fuck you, too, Goodie," Gareth says dryly, then looks back at Jeff, "Steve's on top of it."

"Thanks. We called the techs," Jeff tells him, and then the door slams shut behind him.

"I really gotta stop giving him a key to my room," Goodie says, and Jeff laughs. 

"I think this is my room," Jeff answers, looking around, but Goodie's shit is all over the room, too. They have separate suites. They have the money to do that now, but old habits die hard, and they often end up crashing together, still. The road is lonely, and an empty room is often just depressing. He's not sure how Gareth is functioning on his own, especially now that he's sober.

"Omaha's coming up," Jeff says, because every time he thinks of Gareth, that's all he can worry about. That looming tour date. The disappointment that's sure to follow when Gareth's ex-girlfriend doesn't show up to see the Tom Petty heavy encore set they've put together, just for her.

"I'm well aware of where Di is," Goodie says dryly, "I haven't forgotten that we just spent all that time learning shitty songs she'll never hear."

They aren't shitty. Goodie's just being a contrarian. Jeff knows that. Knows him better than he knows anyone else on earth. And Goodie doesn't mean half the shit he says, he just says it to ruffle feathers. Gareth's feathers, if possible.

"Your Honey Bee is good, though," Goodie concedes.

And it is. They've whipped all the songs into decent shape, but Honey Bee feels damn good. Natural. Electric. Diana would really like it, Jeff thinks, and he hopes that maybe, just maybe, she'll show up to hear it. Either way, covering songs, giving them their own Corroded Coffin twist, is still some of the most fun they have on the road.

"She might come," Jeff says, even if he doesn't believe it. Gareth fucked his relationship up, probably well beyond repair, and now Gareth just has to live with it. They all have to live with it. Which, honestly, has been more stressful than when Eddie first got with Steve and drove them all nuts. At least Eddie was happy.

Gareth is withdrawn, quiet. He's different in a way Jeff can't really pinpoint. Not yet. Only time will tell how this all shakes out. If he's growing up, if he can change, or if this is all gonna explode in their faces when he doesn't get what he wants, two days from now.

"She won't fucking come if she knows what's good for her, and Gareth? He's not good for her," Goodie says, flipping to the next page in his newspaper. Jeff's pretty sure he's not reading a damn word of it.

Jeff thinks that's pretty harsh. They're supposed to be supportive of Gareth, here. He's their friend, their bandmate. Their kid to look after. It's been that way forever. They love him.

"She might come," Jeff says. Because she might. Anything can happen. He can't see the future.

"Well, she'd be a goddamn fool, then. I told her to run, to not take any of his shit, and she better listen to ol' Goodie."

Jeff cuts a knowing look at Goodie, "You also gave Gareth a pep talk last winter, telling him she'd marry him someday. So, pick a lane. You can't bet on both outcomes. It's unsportsmanlike."

Goodie sighs, "You aren't supposed to know that. Gareth has a big mouth."

Jeff fucking laughs. There are no secrets between them, and he's not sure why Goodie thought he didn't know. Of course he knows.

Goodie keeps talking, "Well. Both can be true. She's not coming this week. But yeah. Someday. Someday she will. And when she does, I'll still tell her it's a mistake, but she won't listen."

"You sound awfully invested," Jeff says, poking at Goodie.

"It's been our own private soap opera for how long now? Of course I'm invested. I don't have time for television, I gotta be entertained somehow." 

Jeff just shakes his head.

"Well, is he gonna relapse, when she doesn't show up, old wise one?" Jeff asks, mainly teasing. But he is worried about it. 

"No," Goodie says. 

"No?" Jeff asks.

"No," Goodie confirms.

She most likely won't come, they all know it, and Steve's on top of that, too, making a plan to limit the fallout. If Gareth relapses, they're all fucked. This tour schedule cannot accommodate it. No way.

They would. Of course they would. But it would probably mean the tour will come to a screeching halt. All momentum lost.

"If he falls off the wagon, I'm chaining him to said wagon, and dragging him along behind us," Goodie says.

"You say, to a black man," Jeff says.

Goodie lowers the paper, so Jeff can finally see his eyes, "Didn't mean it like that. Jesus."

"I know," Jeff says, and he does know that. Goodie's been his best friend since they were too little to understand what that meant. But still. Not the best imagery.

"He won't fall off the wagon. We won't let him," Jeff proclaims, as if this is within their control.

Goodie says what he was thinking.

"Like we've ever been able to control that kid. Eddie barely can, and Eddie's so far up Steve's ass-"

"Literally," Jeff cuts in, teasing.

"-now that Steve's back on tour, even Eddie doesn't have the time to babysit."

It's true. It's all true. As much as the undercurrent of worry is there, they can't expend the energy on it today. They don't have the time, and obviously have other more pressing issues today. Tonight, it's gonna be Eddie's turn to be unhinged, Jeff's sure of it, "Let's worry about one thing at a time. Tonight it's the rain and Eddie's guitar."

"If he'd just have a whole stable like we do, this would never happen."

"Not how he works, and you know it."

Goodie rolls his eyes. 

"I don't get it. They're just guitars. I love 'em. But I don't really play favorites," Goodie answers, tossing the paper onto the coffee table. "If the bass I play tonight breaks, well, there are twenty more I can play tomorrow. I'll chuck it in the audience-"

"No, you won't. Steve and Erica will both kill you," Jeff corrects. Been there, done that, had the lawsuit to prove it. Erica got it taken care of, but they don't need any more legal troubles.

"I'm not scared of Steve," Goodie says.

"But Erica?"

"Fuck yes, I'm scared of Erica. I'm not an idiot," Goodie says, and Jeff laughs. It's a good thing she's on their legal team, and not working against them, that's all Jeff knows.

Goodie looks up at him again, "Steve never should have bought Eddie that guitar."

Jeff just nods, even if he doesn't really agree. Jeff helped Steve pick her out. Steve knew which guitar Eddie had been drooling over, but asked Jeff to come in to make sure she'd actually be a good one, if he bought it. So, Jeff played the two they had in stock, and picked the one that seemed to have the best sound, and the best feel, and Eddie has loved her more than they could have ever imagined. It was a great gift.

Steve did good.

Steve's always done good, though. They wouldn't be here without him, Jeff has no doubt.

Even if it being from Steve has made Eddie awfully attached to it, as a result.

That night, Eddie doesn't surprise them, but Hercules is ready to go, and Artie promises to give him an extra coat of oil on the fretboard.

The rain hasn't let up, not for a second, and they've never had a rain show like this one. It's kind of cool, and Jeff's really having fun with it. He jumps up and down, bouncing on the balls of his feet, the puddled water splashing beneath him every time he lands. Goodie's soaked, they all are. 

This tour is just firing on all cylinders, and he isn't sure how they've gotten here. Screaming towards the top. All of them. Together. Finally, in sync. Coming off the last couple years, the torture tours they've endured, Jeff's ready for something to go smoothly, for something they can all fucking enjoy for once.

Eddie and Gareth are clean. 

Steve's back on the road, his back not totally fixed, but definitely better than it was.

Jeff gets to have fun with his best friend, playing music, selling out stadiums, and making a boatload of goddamn money.

And tonight, they get to play in the rain in front of god knows how many people in this park. Looking out over the grass, the crowd is fucking pumped, as if the rain hasn't ruined the night for them at all. And if the fans don't care, why should they? 

This is fun.

Someone, Dustin, Jeff thinks, runs out a hat for Gareth. His hair is plastered down, sopping wet and in his eyes, and Jeff watches as Gareth pushes it all back off his face, putting the cap on backwards. He looks funny that way, not at all like himself, more like they've got Chad Smith sitting in, but at least his hair is out of his fucking eyes. Eddie is fiddling with Hercules, like he's not sure that everything is going okay.

It's more than okay. And when Gareth bangs his sticks down again, counting them in on the next song, off they go again and the crowd screams louder than any rain could ever cover.

Back in the dressing room after the show, Goodie is trying to peel his wet shirt off over his head, and Jeff snags the hem of it, helping him tug it off. 

Then he works on his jeans, and it's a whole 'nother job. Everything feels glued on.

"I've never been this soaked in my entire life. I think I could wring out my underwear," Goodie says, and as soon as he steps out of them, he does exactly that over the sink in their shared dressing room.

Jeff laughs, "You can shower first. I think that's the rule. The one with the most soaked skivvies gets to go first."

Goodie smirks, but grabs a towel from the pile on the counter, and slams the bathroom door behind him.

Jeff looks in the mirror, he's lucky. He's the only one of them that doesn't have enough hair to look like a drowned rat. Steve looked awful. All that hair, hanging down around his ears, where it just doesn't belong. 

Not that Eddie will care. Steve is perfect in Eddie's eyes, that's an absolute certainty.

Jeff steps out of his wet clothes and tosses them into the hamper that Eddie had provided for them. He'll be glad to get warm and dry. After being hit with the AC while all wet, he's freezing.

Jeff's putting on a dry robe as Gareth walks in, Dustin's hat still on his head, "Eddie and Steve are showering first. Can I hang with you?"

And Jeff nods, kicking out one of the plastic chairs. There is a couch, but there's really no reason for them to be dickheads about it and get the upholstery wet. It's not the venue's fault that there was a torrential downpour.

"That was crazy, huh?" Gareth asks.

"Still sounded good though, Mike had the audio tuned in great for what he had to work with."

"My cymbals were muted," Gareth complains, and they were, they could all hear that, but if that was the only problem they had all night, they made out like bandits.

"Think your drums survived?" Jeff asks, picking up one of the decks of cards that are ever present on their show riders. 

He deals Gareth in without even asking. 

"Yeah, they should. The techs have 'em," Gareth answers, picking up his hand, rearranging them around in his own hand to his liking. "Eddie's freaking out about Hercules though. Steve's got a job ahead of him tonight."

"He'll be fine," Jeff says.

"Hercules or Eddie?" Gareth asks, smiling as he puts down the cards he intends to play.

"Both, but I was talking about Hercules. Artie won't let anything happen to that guitar."

Gareth nods, and Jeff plays his own cards, as they can hear the shower running in the bathroom beside them.

A while later, Steve pops his head in, freshly dried and styled and looking much more like himself. He looks towards the bathroom, where Goodie's still in the shower, taking his sweet-ass time.

Obviously seeing that the coast is clear, Steve starts talking, "Denny got back to me. Sheryl Crow isn't playing all the festival dates, but we checked our schedule against the ones she is playing, and I made it work to get you two tickets to Pine Knob in August. It's a Sunday."

Jeff smiles, "Awesome. Thank you. Don't tell Goodie. It's a surprise. That means you, Gareth," Jeff says, because he knows Steve won't say a word. Gareth, on the other hand.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Gareth says, laying down his cards, "Eddie out of the shower?"

Steve nods, and Gareth hops up, probably more than ready to be out of his wet clothes, "Gonna go shower before I end up with diaper rash in my crack from sitting in these wet jeans all night."

"Please do that," Steve stresses, looking back at Jeff, shaking his head after Gareth's gone.

"Any luck getting us backstage?" Jeff asks, hopeful.

"Definitely," Steve assures.

Jeff grins. He doesn't know why he's surprised. They are famous in their own right, and Steve can work fucking miracles. Now, Jeff's not especially looking forward to going to H.O.R.D.E Festival for himself, but he does want to see Goodie's face when he comes face-to-face with Sheryl Crow, outside of a red carpet.

He smiles at Steve. 

Jeff hears the water cut off in the bathroom, signaling that it'll be his turn soon. Steve leaves, and Jeff gathers up his clean, dry clothes, passing Goodie in the doorway of the bathroom.

This is gonna be a good summer, even if it rains the whole time. Because they finally feel back on track for the first time in a long time.

As Eddie would say, this is their year.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

Notes: Yes, technically, this was meant to take place during Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, but if you haven't read that, I'm pretty sure it can just stand alone. Also, Goodie's referenced pep talk to Gareth happened in Only a Broken Heart. It was fun to look at this 'verse from Jeff's POV for a bit.

The H.O.R.D.E. Festival line-up from the date mentioned, looks like it would have been: Ziggy Marley & the Melody Makers, Sheryl Crow, Blues Traveler, Black Crowes. I'd have seen that show! Dave Matthews Band played other dates, but it doesn't look like this one.

Fun fact: I really wanted to write it in as Lilith Fair, because that seemed like a fun place to send Jeff and Goodie, but alas, it didn't quite exist yet in 1995.

[umiewrites]

Comfort (NSFW, 18+)

02.OCT.2024

FLUFF/SMUT ❀˖° NSFW ❀˖° Romantic/Sexual ❀˖° Reader is a college student, some characterization for reader. Some HCs for Rei involved (read tags)

Rei Sakuma × GN! Reader (Fluff, to SMUT. no pronouns, gendered terms, clothing, genitals mentioned for reader. Established relationship. (AMAB) Rei with gender neutral terms and they/them/he pronouns. Rei calls you pretty, dear, my sweet thing. Rei gives you a massage.

CW/TW: Reader receiving: Penetrative sex, comfort sex, oral, fingering, praise, soft sex, body worship, protected sex.

Syn: Its been such a hard week for you, hasn't it? Rei noticed the way you'd walk with heavy shoulders, and the way you're even slightly less cheerful. Oh dear, your eyes look tired as well... Now, why don't you tell your sweetest partner about it, and they'll listen to you all night... Actually, why stop there? Rei can help you forget and loosen you up... Won't you let them?

"Why don't you tell me about your week, hm?" Rei put your bag away for you, while you just felt like collapsing on the bed entirely.

They follow after you, laying down with you as they reach a hand out to massage your back. Just some soft kneading on your shoulder blades, some squeezes on your shoulder... But they hope it's enough to relax you. That's what matters.

"That feel good, dear?" They eventually push you till you're laying on your stomach, continuing to caress and massage your worn out muscles. You hum a satisfied yes to them, and they chuckle softly, happy to help you relax. "So dear... What's troubling you?"

You hesitate to even spill it. Knowing how they will go out of their way to help and listen to you, even if it exhausts them. You try to brush it off, telling them it's fine and resolved, but they're not convinced. Or rather, they know you're keeping it from them...

"My sweet thing. Am I not your partner?" Rei asked while gently carding their fingers through your hair. "Am I not meant to hear and help your burden...? Whether that be by helping directly, listening, or offering my advice... Or even if I can't help at all, won't you tell me? I promise, you will not tire me out. I'll always have energy for you, even if I'm exhausted of the world."

Such sweet words falling from their mouth... As usual. As your partner, they never fail to flatter and amaze you with their sincere declarations, as if straight out of a classical romance literature... And can you deny them? Such sincerity, longing for your mutual trust and vulnerability, all they ever want is to be there for you as much as you have for them, and they mean that.

You sigh, your partner's words too persuasive and sweet, and you tell them all about your week. From mishaps and miscellaneous troubles at college, occasional relationship tiffs with your friends, even the petty drama... And they listen intently, wrists never resting as they continue to press against even the sore spots you didn't know you had.

"That's far too many troubles for a single person in one week. You've had it rough through and through..." Rei massaged the area connecting your neck and shoulder. "But you braved through it. You can rest now, and I want to help with that..."

Rei leaned in, softly whispering into your ear, asking permission. "Won't you let me?"

Hearing that always made you shiver. Their voice was far too nice... So smooth, powerful, velvety... You gave them your permission, and they mumbled a little thank you before you felt kisses at the back of your neck.

Soft, thin lips made contact with the skin of your nape. Rei rubbed your shoulders, letting you hug a pillow to allow your comfort. Anything for you.

"My darling has been through a lot this week... Since it's Friday, let's relax, alright? You've done plenty to make it through, so let me pamper you." Rei's hands shifted to holding your hips, making sure you get the hint of what they're suggesting. You gave them your approval.

Knowing Rei, who's often so teasing and smug in bed act this way... It was out of routine, but definitely not weird or unwelcome. In fact... They're good. You're starting to feel a lot of your tension melt... And that's just their touches and kisses.

You could hear small whispers of praise leave Rei's mouth, everything from your skin, your voice, and how you love Rei, nothing goes unnoticed as he worshipped every little thing. They don't leave your moles, marks, or your scars unappreciated, kissing and lightly touching every little one.

Even every little contour, dip, and curve of your skin. Even if they fold as you squirm, he leaves no part untouched. Rei's lips reach your navel and they look at you one more time for your permission to undo your bottoms.

"Let me help you forget. However it may be, I want to help, love."

They're too sweet... Far too loving for you. But who are you to deny them? You allow Rei's hands to take off your clothes as they lower themselves to kiss your inner thigh and unclothed sex. They pull down your underwear entirely, lips softly sucking on your sensitivity. Their fingers trail down to tease your hole, the other holding your thigh in place.

Kissing around everywhere but your sex, he hushed you to be a little more patient for him. Using your precum to lubricate his fingers, he starts prying into your hole, slowly but gently.

Hearing your gasp, a smug chuckle leaves their throat, and Rei's lips start to kiss and softly suck on your leaking sex. Fingers slowly start stretching you open, as soft nibbles and licks press against you. The attention and care they gave had your thighs shaking, although Rei held it in place.

"Sweetheart, you're being so good for me." Lips part briefly just to tell you that, velvety voice praising you while Rei's breath blew against your sensitive skin.

Their fingers pick up, and Rei started to eat out your sex using their tongue like you were dessert— And to his defense, you do taste good. Using their spit to go deeper, Rei added another finger and pressed in to his knuckles. Those joints press your sweet spot like they already knew where they were, keeping the relentless assault while stretching you out.

Rei's tongue lapped at you more feverishly, sex buried in his mouth while the sting of his fingers start turning into pleasure. He's got no intentions of making you wait, but he prolongs the preparation a little with a third finger. Just to see how much he can make you come undone on his fingers alone.

You warn Rei you might finish soon. You're afraid he's a little too good at this...

"Hm? Then come, my love. Nothing's forbidding you from doing so. Besides... You can do another one for me later, no?"

Your thighs shook more, but Rei pays no mind. One more suck on your sex was enough to make you finish, eyes hazy as a shrill moan escaped your mouth. Surprisingly Rei doesn't lick up your release, as their mouth and fingers part from between your thighs.

[fanficfish]

some random hetalia thoughts about the countries

mostly headcanons and character studies i guess. probably canon but who knows i'm too sleepy to go check. i'm gonna ramble and maybe it'll maek sense i don't know. Someoen tag me if they get anything idea worthy out of this.

link the inspired post: https://www.reddit.com/r/hetalia/comments/1eqt7ek/after_all_these_years_im_gonna_say_it_i_did_not/

I've seen a little talk about how England leaving America on his own for so long messed him up a little (thank you reddit user who go that talk going). So i wanted to think about some of Englands' other colonies and stuff i guess?

so like we have America. I still stand he's probably like, Jamestown or something and over time he became the main US rep, like how the UK has the four brothers (five? Six with Sealand) but England represents them at meetings. Or Japan reps all of Japan instead of like a couple dozen prefectures showing up. That kind of thing. And like that guy's a little messed up. In earlier parts ofhis story, he's shown to just be really explorative, stil strong tho, but mostly jsut a nice sweet kid who happens to have three teenagers fighting over him. Seriously couldn't they share? Oh wait it's hetalia no they can't XD

anyways, it's only wlater once America is firmly under British rule that he starts growing the yelling and loudness. I think that's like the sign hhat he wants a little attention f rom England- like, he's shown to just be a guy when it's Canada when they're kids but england gets the "SHOVE FOOD IN MY PIEHOLE" treatment. And I think that's just because England keeps leaving and coming back but sometimes he just ignores the kids and does his own thing for a long time. Canada ends up letting America take the lead for them. And then later on once all is said and done America revels in his big parties and whatnot because the attention is on him, and it won't heal the hrut of England just leaving all the time but it sorta helps. (Canada doesn't count they're basically joined at the hip it's not the same).

and if you compare it to like the Italies for example. Austria was still there to watch over Italy North even though he really went for the uh. Less optimal route. But he was till there, in his own way. Prussia definitely wasn't going to leave HRE and later Germany alone unless he absolutely had to. Spain didn't jsut go gallivanting around when Romano was there (no comment onhis other former colonies). Ofc you could make an argument for Iceland, but by the time Norway took over he'd been alone mostly for 300 years, and even if Norway and Denmark didn't exactly visit all the time because i headcanon Iceland stayed happily on his island 90% of the time like Aland and Faroe Islands to avoid the drama called "four nordics pretending they could get along under one roof when they definitely are not good rooommate compatable", I doubt he was entirely without parental guidance. Norway could always sense him (so themoment anything bighappened Norway would be marching right over), and Iceland mentions sending letters out. I'm jsut gonna guess he sent the letters via Mr. Puffin, and I'd guess Mr. Puffin could always deliver some words if needed from overseas. Iceland also apparantly has fairies at his house so there's that too. Not thet he'd admit it.

But if you notice, it's def circumstance that gives some character which is cool when we're talkign about stereotype-based characters. Ameriica becomes loud and "ignores" the room when he's given the stage, because if he outrages everyone then he'll get attention. Italy N.. had everythig taken care of for him and has few worries, and a pretty good work ethic since Austria isn't a slacker. Roomano is a spoiled brat. Iceland....honestly boy just needs to accept the others rubbed off on him and he's just as kooky as the rest of them. I know you're a teen and all but kid c'mon you love them mystical animals and you keep bringing up your weird museums XD (I swear this child got Norway's anti-socialness, Sweden's inability to admit things (in his case, he actually likes hanging out with the others), Finland's oddness, and Denmark's everythign else because we all know Norway probably saw Iceland at last and had a crisis over it, man knows when Iceland appears but can't get around to taking the ruling for how many years????

And then there's New Zeeland, who had to raise Austrailia when NZ was also pretty young. NZ doesn't even have the hope of hep fro manyone- America and Canada i'm pretty sure still had visitors from like France and I think the Netherlands would have popped by a few times, because they did do a bit of um. Trading. with the colonies and stuff. Austrialia used to be on the other hand where they sent English prisoners. New Zealand is not ready for that kind of craziness, and so of course we're gonna get a free range crazy Austrailia and a done with it New Zealand who got no help and probabl ygot even less parental support then America. BTW it's crazy that technically GB still techncialy rules over so many big places like Canada and Austrailia even though they also technicall ydon't like that's just so wild.

so what have we learend from this? England sucks as a dad, and Iceland's teen rebel phase is in full swing. WHat was the poitn of this? I don't know but you read it and i wrote it so.....

ima sleep i forgot the poitn already lol

[mins-fins]

speak now — kum junhyeon

junhyeon doesn't mind being the voice for his quiet friend.

tags :: kum junhyeon x m!reader , high school au , reader is super shy , junhyeon is a bundle of joy , loud boy x quiet boy trope , they're in love , reader is actually me in disguise

kum junhyeon has always been told that he talks a lot.

he never took it offensively, junhyeon loves talking, he talks all the time, he spends most of his time talking if not sleeping or eating or running away from taerae's constant affection.

when he met y/n when they were six, he was no different, junhyeon has always been jumpy and energetic, a contrast to y/n, whose calm, shy, and usually doesn't utter more than a few words a day.

junhyeon has never met such a quiet person in his life, he spends most of his time around extroverts, but y/n is different, way different, he's so quiet that you probably won't hear him at all when he speaks.

he's gotten used to the quiet personality of the boy, whose become his best friend. junhyeon loves his friend the way he is, he can't imagine y/n any other way.

he knows y/n isn't keen on affection, but y/n doesn't mind his affection, it makes junhyeon feel special, because y/n doesn't let anyone else hug him, but he can, and that's great.

he doesn't mind speaking for y/n, he finds him really special, though so many other people ignore him, it makes junhyeon sad, he thinks of the boy as one of the most special people in the world.

or maybe he's just biased.

"y/n drew the plays advertisement poster?"

the question surprises junhyeon, do people seriously not know how talented of an artist y/n is? his signature is literally on the goddamn poster—

but he refrains himself from saying that.

"yeah, y/n's a very talented artist! he's always drawn posters like this!"

did junhyeon also mention he's an amazing hypeman on top of that?

y/n spends most of his lunchtime drawing as he sits beside junhyeon, whose talking to his other friends about who knows what. he looks to y/n beside him, whose tuning out the rest of the noise as he sketching a certain someone.

"what about you y/n?"

y/n blinks, not believing he was being addressed, as he was usually ignored by everyone else sitting there. his pencil continues gliding against the page as he stares at park gunwook, confused.

"what's your favorite extracurricular activity?"

the question is simple, really, it is, but y/n just stares. he finds himself frozen, like he can't answer the question, his free hand starts shaking, and he stays still. he's not thinking, he knows the answer, he just can't answer.

junhyeon looks to his best friend, noticing how he's now frozen in nervousness. so, he decides to answer the question himself, so that his friend can at least feel a little less anxiety.

"y/n likes art" he answers. "he's an amazing artist! you know! he's so talented and creative, have you seen his drawings? he's also super humble, and pretty, and smart—" junhyeon goes on with his rambling, talking about how great and talented y/n is, as his other friends nod and laugh about how many adjectives he can use to describe his best friend.

junhyeon yelps as he gets pinched. "junhyeon" y/n whispers. "please stop" his voice is barely audible as he says those words.

junhyeon simply smiles, laughing. "i was just answering the question for you".

y/n hums, his face staying the same, though his heart flutters at the compliments from junhyeon, who seems so used to it.

he was flattered to say the least.

junhyeon is many things, an absolute sweetheart is definitely on top of that list. y/n never feels the need to hide, never feels any pressure to have to talk, junhyeon is just always there for him, he understands him.

junhyeon makes him feel amazing, happy, and many other unsaid feelings he can't describe with just words alone.

they seem made for each other no?

AUTHORS NOTE — i rewrote this twice, but it's junhyeon so it's okay!!!

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Hi! I hope you’ve been doing well and taking care of yourself!

I was scrolling through your kit cross tag, and I know she joins Jacob, and I recently rewatched Jacob’s fight on youtube, and so I just gotta know:

If Kit was an actual character in the game, what would her boss fight be like?

Would it be intertwined with Jacob’s or would killing Jacob trigger it? What would her relative difficulty be when compared to the others? What would be her strength in the battle? What would she be saying to the player during it, if she speaks at all?

She’s honestly kinda terrifying (and incredibly hot) and seeing her charging at me would make me freak out ���

I've been doing well enough, hope you are doing okay too <3 Thank you so much for this!! Honestly, this is something I have thought about, and I thank you for sending this my way and thinking about my terrifying Kit (you're right though, murder mommy is also very hot)

This gets really long, so putting it under the cut:

I think the best way to describe her boss fight would be like playing through Outlast. It would require the player to have to be sneaky and quiet at all times, focusing on survival through stealth. Basically, for all intents and purposes, turning themselves into a prey animal. (She'd probably also secretly get off on that because she's a freak 🤫)

The player would be forced to feel that fear of knowing they're being stalked. Adrenaline pumping, heart racing, palms getting sweaty. It would be eerily quiet, menacing in its lack of sound. Moving through the environment knowing that she could be behind any corner, ready to strike at any moment.

She, of course, has a lot of cat-like qualities, and so I picture it a lot like trying to escape from a tiger or a leopard, where you just know they are watching and waiting to pounce. That's Kit in a nutshell. She'll make you think you're safe, that you have the upper hand, but she's already multiple steps ahead of you and has about a hundred different contingency plans in her head, not to mention the brass balls of believing she is working for God and doing his bidding (apparently he'll forgive the murder if it's her hand. blah blah blah Lion of God or whatever)

I think killing Jacob would be the better trigger for her boss fight because at that point, it's no holds barred for her. She's going to be out for blood, and as much as she says she won't die for anyone and sacrificing herself is weakness, she'd have less to live for which makes her all the more dangerous.

I think for Kit, it would be more interesting to force the player to have to use melee or bladed weapons rather than guns like the rest of the fights. Forced to get on her level, to be willing to draw blood and get their hands dirty. She'd have more respect for someone willing to do that. She'd still want them dead, but at least she won't look at them like a worm then.

Her fight would also require no use of the Bliss. She despises it and what it makes her do, and I think she'd much prefer the challenge of having to take on someone one on one without them being drugged out of their gourd. Honor is a big thing with Kit, despite her being a shitty person. She doesn't like tricks or backstabbing or not fighting fair (unless it's her doing so, classic Seed hypocrisy showing through in her right there).

Kit isn't one for taunting. She's all about stealth and proving her strength through her will and through her actions. If someone is going to kill her they should prove worthy in doing so, so trying to break their spirit during the fight would also serve as a distraction for her. I think if she were to say anything, it would be if the player lost the fight. Then it's a smug look and a classic: "See, God won't let me die." All while giving the Kubrick stare.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Hello!

Just saw your post about prompts… 👀

If you’re interested, I’ve been dying for a very particular Buck/Bucky fic, where, during the interrogation scene, the officer has Gale brought in to try and get answers out of Buck ✨

Im a sucker for the extreme angsty stuff, but other than that, I’ll leave the prompt broad and up to your interpretation!

Thank you! ♥️

(This went more "two Steve McQueens fight a couple nazis" and less "oh god why must I watch you be hurt" but I hope you enjoy! Personally, I think Buck's likely the shithouse crazy one of them when it comes down to it, and Bucky just tags along when it happens.)

[cw: blood mention]

After several minutes of going back and forth, the interrogator questioning and Bucky replying over and over with his name, rank, and serial number, the interrogator pauses, then says, "Well, let us try something else."

Bucky expects the man to stand up and threaten him. Instead, he pushes a button on his desk. There's a buzzing outside the office.

Bucky expects guards and guns, maybe a fight. He keeps his seat even as the door opens, ready to spring up if needed but trying to hold himself in check.

There's two sets of footsteps, and then Bucky looks to his left where they stop.

It's a guard, all right. And next to him, still in his uniform, is Buck. He's bruised and busted, though not as badly as Bucky. He's standing at ease, like he's not shocked to see Bucky.

But Buck looks not shocked to people who don't know him a lot of the time. Bucky, though, he can read that face like his favorite book. And Buck's face is stoic, but there's mayhem in his eyes.

"John Egan," Buck says, and Bucky leans forward, ready to go, "What took you so long?"

"Well, I had to come back from London, you know," Bucky replies. "Told you you should have come with."

"Maybe next time I will," Buck says. He licks the corner of his mouth where there's a spot of blood. He looks at the interrogator. "I suppose I'm here for a reason."

The interrogator smiles thinly. He rests on his desk and waves at the guard, who takes two steps back.

Stupid, Bucky thinks. Absolutely and fantastically stupid.

"Major Egan is not being forthcoming," the interrogator says. "And you have also not been forthcoming, Major Cleven."

"Attaboy," Bucky says in his most obnoxious drawl. It makes the interrogator glare at him. Perfect.

"If you think showing me Egan's alive is going to be make me cooperate with you, you're wrong," Buck says, cool as you please. He scratches his wrist. The guard behind him doesn't even twitch. Bucky catches the way Buck's hand doesn't fully uncurl when he drops it to his side again.

"What he said," Bucky adds.

"You Americans and your confidence," the interrogator says, looking like he wants to spit. "Always so certain you can't be stopped."

Bucky shrugs and slouches further in his chair. He finishes his cigarette, stares at the interrogator, and flicks the butt to the floor. The man's nostrils flare. "Buck, when we're out of here, I'm taking you dancing."

"You can try," Buck says, and Bucky moves at the same moment Buck does, grabbing the interrogator by the throat and snatching the letter opener off of the desk. He stabs him through the jugular, holding him up as he bleeds all over his pristine uniform.

He lays the interrogator on the floor and glances at Bucky. The guard's down, too. His neck slashed clean across. There's a razor blade with fabric wrapped around the dull side next to him.

"How'd you get a razor blade?" Bucky asks as he takes the interrogator's gun and knife and searches through his pockets. He finds money and a gold watch.

"They made me scrub their bathrooms," Buck says. "I think it was meant to emasculate me. I found it in the wastebasket."

"They didn't search you?" Bucky asks. He walks to the door and presses his ear to it. There's no noise outside.

"They're undisciplined," Buck says. "Not lazy or dumb, but undisciplined."

Bucky reads between the lines. It won't be easy or simple to get out of here, but the men here won't be expecting a fight. "It's quiet out there," he says.

Buck walks up next to Bucky and hands him a box of ammunition. He tucks two folders into his jacket, then tucks another two into Bucky's. They all have a large stamp on the front that seems to imply importance. "Where's your sheepskin?"

"Traded it out," Bucky says. "You hated it."

Buck stares at him for a moment, then pulls him in and kisses him. "You ever fly without it again, I'll shoot you down myself."

Bucky kisses back. "I'm telling Marge you paused my heroic rescue to kiss me like a bad movie."

"I'm telling Marge you were dumb enough to get captured," Buck replies. He pulls Bucky into a quick hug that Bucky happily returns. "Ready?" Buck asks, holding up the knife he's stolen. His gun's tucked into his waistband so he can grab the doorknob.

Bucky stands behind him, the knife in his right, the gun in his left. The box of ammunition in his pocket makes him feel lucky. The sharp concentration and determination in Buck's eyes makes him feel sure. "Let's get the hell out of here."

[redstringraven]

TMNT’s 40th anniversary ask game ~ May I ask for number 22) , 26) and 35) ? Lots of love <3

TuT!!!! THANK u, cherry. loves of love to you, too 💜✨

(please excuse that this ask is visually a bit more of a mess. i wrote too much again for tumblr to be chill with my usual formatting. why am i like this.)

TMNT's 40th anniversary ask game!

22.) what is your favorite kind of pizza?

terrible news, everyone: i'm a pro-pineapple bitch. you may block and unfollow me now; i forgive you for being incorrect (/lh). i tend to be pescatarian if i can help it (i'm flexible due to money, and also i hate inconveniencing others especially if i'm a guest), so i prefer pizza without meats. i'm happy to eat any kind of veggie combination with the exception of banana peppers. never liked those for some reason. i also really like mushroom and eggs as pizza toppings. i'm kind of just an egg fiend in general; i love the taste of a well-made egg.

26.) what is one of your favorite pieces of TMNT fan art?

these things keep asking for one, but i'm gonna continue responding with however many i feel like. because it's not my dad. the scarf, by @hamsterandturtlesoup weakness is a sickness and a virtue, by @tatortart various candid illustrations by richard chen vis dev by kellan jett

35.) which character relationships are your favorite to write/draw?

...since we're both OC people, i'm gonna take this as an opportunity to gush about canon and OC relationships: two of my favorite brotps. because they're character relationships i adore writing with all my heart and soul.

mikey, gwyn & ash i mentioned previously that @plantdonutwrites (jenn) writes for mikey in our RPs, so i consulted her for mikey's perspective on this brot3. i will paraphrase her answer in this paragraph:

"all his life, mikey's been used to only having his bros as company; they're family in a way that puts the rest of us to shame. but as they grew older they met all sorts of people, some became an extension of that family. raph has casey or maybe angel when he wants to dip for a bit. don has leatherhead or the professor (bree, too), and leo has usagi even if he's not 'as regular' (and min-ji, too). his brothers have their separate circles of friends, but, against all odds, mikey doesn't seem to have that (at least not until cassia shoved her foot in the loneliness door). then he bonded with gwyn and ash... but then they left. he realized that it wasn't just that they didn't treat him like 'the annoying brother who tags along' but because they'd actually become friends, and they were friends who didn't humor him. they liked the comics he talked about, they love klunk, and they're interested in his art and ideas. it meant a lot to him to have that--to know what it was like--and when they weren't around, he really felt the difference. in an odd way they helped him become a more empathetic person, too."

it's harder to answer in ash's perspective because she has a lot less agency than gwyn and, because gwyn's paranoid/won't let ash out of her own hands much less her line of sight, ash doesn't get a lot of one-on-one time with mikey. she's interacted with him a LOT more than she's interacted with most people--which absofuckinglutely means something--but since she does consider herself 'dead' and is at peace with the possibility she'll be a literal shapeshifting weapon for the rest of her sentience, i think a lot of his meaning to her (right now) is very rooted in what he means for gwyn. THAT being said.

mikey is gwyn's first real friend. like. ever. in all the time she's been alive. very much in the same way that the brothers only had each other for most of their lives, gwyn only ever had ash. her community considered her a parasite and an omen, so she was essentially outcast. gwyn grew up feeling she wasn't wanted, had to earn any love she received, and when ash died and became trapped in the weapon, all that transpired and followed afterward re-enforced that. i haven't talked about darach a lot--deliberately--but know that he's a masterful manipulator in more ways than one. if ch'rell was brute force and intimidation, darach is more like the pot you put a frog in and slowly turn up the heat. you don't realize you're being boiled alive until it's too late. thanks to his influence, gwyn's been tricked, back-stabbed, cornered, and watched people suffer 'because of her' countless times. when i said she was paranoid, i wasn't really being hyperbolic. she has SEVERE trust issues. ...then came mikey. someone who, unknowingly, had already given them a taste of his character.

gwyn and ash had heard of mikey's rematch with kluh during their travels--that the match was made mortal, that mikey had not only won but had spared kluh's life when he had every reason not to. darach wouldn't approach someone like him, they figured. and as time passed, mikey continued to not just be open and kind with them, but again and again he's emphasized to gwyn that they just... CARE. to quote him "we don't keep you guys around for any benefits other than being able to know you". which, in so many ways, is unheard of for gwyn. she still struggles to believe him sometimes, but she trusts him. mikey is her first and best friend, he's someone she admires, and he's proven time and time again that ash isn't the only person capable of loving her, and that she's worthy of that love by just being herself. i had to spend a lot of this answer on exposition because OC, but... i earnestly can't emphasize enough how much mikey's come to mean to gwyn. he asked her not to leave again without them, and she promised she wouldn't. that promise to him has kept her from running away and isolating. even though she's terrified--for herself, for ash, for them--she trusts him. writing them makes me so happy. it's been such a delight to see their relationship evolve and the influences they've had on each other and their worldviews. i love this brot3 so goshdang much.

min-ji & raph min-ji belongs to jenn and, oh my god, i love her relationship with raph so, SO much. when we rp, jenn's obviously writing for min, and i write for raph.

again! consulted jenn! her answer paraphrased below:

"raph's pretty much the first assertive person in her life that had her back early on? her home life is complex; her family DOES love her but sometimes that love can veer controlling and toxic (responsibilities/obligations). raph was a type of personality she'd never been around before, and he cared about her well-being in a way that was unconditional. hanging out with him more helped her become more assertive and in touch with parts of herself she was forced to suppress to be more palatable to her family. she's found that being angry about something that happened to her, or something that was said to her, doesn't make her bad or a burden. raph doesn't expect her to shy away from her flaws or nuances. he lets her be a person."

as for raph's end, it's kind of hard to put into words. but i love that min-ji has become one of the very few people he will allow himself moments of vulnerability around. like. instead of it just happening, he makes the choice to let a wall or six down. they've created a mutual safe space between each other.

i think this has cultivated from a lot of things. min was much more timid when they met--raph even made a bit of a point, initially, to not interact with her so much because she was skittish and on-edge thanks to surrounding events. but through the events of our writing, he's watched her grow in self-confidence, be more open, and allow herself to 'take up' more space. she's also survived two major threats to her life, now, both of which have scarred her physically and emotionally, yet she persists and continues to extend kindness to people who, in his opinion, don't deserve it. but that's HER business (while he makes his feelings known, he stays out of it unless she signals him otherwise). she may not be a fighter in a literal sense, but he sees her as an equal. like, he's still protective of her in dangerous situations since she's not trained to fight--obviously--but... i dunno, i guess it's more like "i've been through shit; you've been through shit; if i say things look bad right now, you won't like it but you also won't give up". he doesn't feel a pull to coddle her if things are looking grim, i guess is what i'm trying to say?; he'll shoot straight with her because he knows she IS a fighter. even if she doesn't fight. does THAT make sense?

like i said, it's hard to put into words. but i think it's a combination of min-ji's emotional strength and kindness as a person, as well as the fact she's not an immediate family member, that make it easier for him to let those barriers down around her and have severely needed moments of vulnerability where he doesn't dismiss pain or fear or anything else he might be feeling. he knows min would never lash out at him, physically, emotionally, or however else. min-ji is kind, and she's strong, and she's safe. he trusts her, values and respects her judgment and input. much in the same way his presence lets her feel like a person, she's extended that grace to him. just in a different way. i love getting to write interactions between them. there's always something warm and comforting in their exchanges, light-hearted or more melancholic. it's nice. the love is very much there.

[sio-writes]

Botanist's Guide: Chapter 14

<<Chapter 13

<<<Chapter 1

Summary: Cassandra Rowland, PhD, finally has the chance to work on an experiment that really matters: growing Earth crops on another planet. But too many overdue reports and marked failures have put her in hot water with the board, and this is her last chance at redemption. So when she finds herself railroaded by a seven foot tall, glowing alien named Kri, it won’t be as easy as sticking some seeds in the soil and running them under the tap. Tack on the looming repossession of her lab contingent on her success in Kri’s reports, and Cassie realizes she may have her work cut out for her.

Tags: past death and unhealthy grieving mentioned

Kri

I wake up feeling troubled and anxious, from the moment I open my eyes, the memories of the day before come rushing in. Cassie had lost the most important thing in her life less than thirty hours ago, and I gently nudged her towards my home only because I know how it feels to wake up alone after a major life event. I'd fully intended to stay respectful and sleep on the couch, but the temptation to guard over my beautiful human was too great. I can hardly refuse Cassie on any normal day, let alone one where her watering eyes threatened to spill over if I didn’t sleep beside her.

So this morning I wake up on my back with her draped over my side, her arm across my chest and a leg thrown possessively over my hips. Her limbs are a weight over my body that centers me, grounds me in the present and relaxes my muscles. I could stay here for hours. 

She’s a quiet sleeper, only the rise and fall of her back indicates her breathing. Her other hand is tangled in the pillows behind me, and her free leg is sticking out of the basket, which tells me that she likes to spread out like a flower when she sleeps. Hanging nests are meant to act as a cocoon, providing safety in an enclosed space; they're not meant for much else outside of sleeping, unlike human beds that seem to act as a second living room. Cassie wouldn't be comfortable here in the long term, and I briefly wonder if I could handle sleeping on a mattress for the rest of my life. 

I think I could, for her.

It's tempting to remain in the nest all day. My body certainly agrees. Even buckled under the stress of not knowing what today will bring, I find it hard to see past the fact that Cassie is sleeping on top of me. The bottom of her thigh is pressing deliciously against my groin plates, her whole body is against mine and I'm washed in the smell of her lavender-scented hair products, my favorite of Earth's smells, floral and light. As I take a deep inhale of her hair, I consider what to do next. 

I enjoy her presence here, and I want to keep her with me as long as she can stand. I’ll need to get her a change of clothes, provide food, and think of distractions she can pick from instead of trodding back to an empty greenhouse.

That's when I realize that it's early, too early for the day to start, but I know what woke me up. Sleeping on my back has cut the circulation to my wings, and an uncomfortable numbness has started to spread from the tips and stretch its fingers all the way down my spine. Usually I can ignore it, but it's begun to hinge on painful, and it’s probably that encroaching pain that woke me up. But I won't move with my Cassie laying on top of me.

To distract myself, I brush away a stray curl laying delicately over her brow, fascinated as it springs back to its original position the moment I let go. Human hair is endlessly fascinating, unique to the individual it grows on. Cassie's moves like she does, bouncy and energetic, begging my fingers to run through it even now in the dark. I know humans can put color in their hair, and I wonder if that's the case with her. It blends from a light yellow at the ends to nearly black as it reaches her head, and in the greenhouse in the afternoon, it catches the light and she turns into the sun. 

Cassie stirs but doesn’t wake, only rolls to her opposite side and blindly feels for a pillow that she holds to her chest.

Using the brief opportunity of freedom, I carefully and quietly get out of my nest and to my feet. It’s a balancing act of maintaining myself upright and keeping the rocking of the basket to a minimum, but the moment I’m up, I feel my circulation returning. I roll both my primary and secondary shoulders and shake the feeling back into my wings as I step around the nest and to the couch.

After Cassie received the news of her lab being shut down, I’d been working on instinct to keep her from collapsing so I could bring her back here. I couldn't let her fall into a depression, I needed to take care of her. But it’s the next morning now, she’s going to wake up soon, and I need a plan that extends beyond the bounds of this apartment. 

I rub my face with my primary hands as I sit on the couch, letting my head fall into my palms. Beside me, Cassie stirs again, but only to shift her weight and grab for another pillow. 

I don't know how she's going to react, and that troubles me. I'm not good at preparing for the unknown, the sudden. 

Unfortunately, I only have my own experience with tragedy to call upon. I believe the human term goes something like, “a trip down memory road," and it’s not a trip I particularly want to take, but if my own experience can help Cassie through hers, then I’ll weather through the murky waters of my memories.

The first week after Vles’ death is a haze. Between planning their funeral, moving to Outpost #3, and working around the rampant denial that they were gone, I was stretched in too many directions. Months before their death we'd planned the ceremony, but they'd only focused on where they’d be resting— at Outpost #7 or home in Lethien, as there was more paperwork to fill out for one than the other.

Afterwards, everything else was left to me - notifying family, arranging services, being physically and emotionally available for all the sympathy and heartfelt conversations. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't string together enough words to even be polite. I'd had to clear out the remnants of a life extinguished too soon, and all I’d wanted to do was break into that basement where the humans keep chilled remains so I could lay next to Vles for the next year and a half.

Cassie will likely be at a similar low. It hurts in my chest to think of the pain she's going to feel. The lab was her everything, her whole world. She based her self-worth in her work, and to be told it wasn't enough? I can’t imagine.

If it were up to me, I’d move Cassie here, keep her close so I could watch over her and be nearby in case anything happens. I’d feel much better if she did. But that’s a future conversation, so I put it on a back shelf in my mind, and dig into my brain for ways to care for her.

Ari came to my rescue. They’d tried to distract me when all I wanted to do was melt into the floor. They brought me food and kept me on a schedule and essentially made all my decisions for me when I was struggling just to stay conscious without the aid of alcohol. I can't do anything about the notifications or other people or whatever torrent of feeling she's going to experience on waking up, but there are certain things I can mitigate to make her life easier. Cassie’s situation is wholly different from mine, but I know she’s going to wake up disoriented, upset, and probably in denial. That, I can work with. 

Food, I should make her food. 

The past week following our coupling has given me more than enough time to research human habits and culture. I wanted to be knowledgeable to be a better partner, but maybe what I learned can help in this too. My research on meals brought up that certain foods are only consumed at certain times, which is incredibly strange, but I'll see what I can manage. It's approaching morning, so I believe it's break-fast time.

A quick search in my food-cooling box only tells me that I need to go out for more food. It's empty and pathetic looking. The same is said for the pantry, and the freezing-box. The humans were very nice for bringing us this technology alternative to store food, but I wish I had a replicator on-hand. It's much more convenient for quick meals instead of cooking-- ingredients are added and food comes out, whereas with this box food just goes in and stays cold. As much as I enjoy making food for Cassie, I need something quick and easy.

After another cursory glance in the cooling-box, I pull out a pink klen loaf and a container of sweet mixed berries. It's not ideal, but this will have to do. 

As quietly as possible I search through my bag and pull out my mobile device. It still has a bit of power remaining, so I message Ari to find Jillie so I can get Cassie a change of clothes. It’s likely that Ari isn’t awake yet, but they’ll see the message when they do wake up. I remember where Cassie’s apartment is, but I’m reluctant to leave her alone here. Not because I distrust her, but if she wakes up in a strange place on her own, it may send her into a panic.

Ari responds much faster than I’d thought they would. I’ll text Jillie :)

It takes me an embarrassing amount of time to realize that Ari is using the Earth slang for "message." Even typed in Universal it looks odd.

Thank you.

Keep me updated, yes?

Yes.

I need to brush up on my Earth-English dialect, if I’m to keep up with the humans, or perhaps just one in particular.

My device buzzes again, but I ignore it in favor of turning towards the kitchen. As I’m placing the berries into a bowl, Cassie stirs again, waking up with a long groan that I want to memorize for when I’m alone. Then I hear her inhale sharply and the basket jostles as she sits upright, and likely gathers her bearings, before she blows a relieved note through her lips. I can see her shock of pale yellow hair above the rim of the basket, a little off-kilter from sleep, and as she sits up I’m met with her pale brown forehead, and then her gorgeous blue eyes.

In Igrien, which feels so long ago, she had asked me my favorite color, and I’d answered honestly. The blue of a clear sky, or the ocean. It’s the color of her eyes, a lovely coincidence that only adds to my attraction to her.

And she’s happy to see me, I hope, because her eyes crinkle and she breathes out my name, “Kri!”

She easily tips herself out of the basket, a feat I’m surprised by but pleasantly so, and she shivers at the cold tile under her feet. She keeps her eyes on me, though, padding across the floor and into the kitchen to wrap her arms around my middle and bury her face into my shoulder.

“Please tell me yesterday was a horrible dream, and I’m here because we had mind-blowing sex.”

I smooth a hand over her hair. “I wouldn’t lie to you like that.”

“Yeah,” she breathes against my chest. “You only lie by omission.”

She’s coping with humor, but the statement still stings. I wouldn’t take back our time in the lab for anything, but I wish the circumstances had been better. At least, if she’s making jokes at my expense she’s not wallowing.

"I'm sorry, that was mean," she says quickly, looking up at me with her cheeks puffed out. Adorable. 

"Unforgivable," I tease, smoothing a primary hand over her poofy hair and pressing my lips to her forehead so she knows that I'm joking. 

Kissing is another import from Earth, and one I enjoy very much. Humans lack the humming vocalizations we use to express affection, they can't even hear half our speech patterns, but they make up for it with other physical touches. Hugging and kissing, casual touch or even just standing a bit too close to let the other know they’re there.

I’d asked Ari for advice on the subject when I was sorting through my feelings for Cassie, and after they'd stopped laughing at my expense, they'd directed me to the on-line Archive with human films and given me a list to watch. 

"Take these things with a grain of salt, 'Asxu," they'd said as if I understood the meaning of that phrase, sitting next to me on the couch as the first film started. They'd brought some corn-based Earth snack with them, claiming it to be a staple in watching films with someone else. It made my apartment smell of butter and salt, and it was very tasty. "Most Earth movies tend to exaggerate or misrepresent. Unless you're watching a documentary, and not even those are completely impartial."

"So why are we watching these instead of a documentary?" 

"The specific type of documentary you're looking for is considered pornography, and there's very little of that in The Archive. Also these are more entertaining. They tell stories!" 

We'd sat through several films, some good and others very confusing, and I took so many mental notes that my head began to throb. The headaches were worth it, though, when I finally got to kiss Cassie and she didn't push me away in disgust. 

I'm glad Cassie is so receptive to my touch. I enjoy being able to confirm her presence, to feel her under my fingers. 

"I don't have much," I say, stepping away from her embrace and into the kitchen. "But you should eat something." 

Her eyes spark with recognition when she spies the klen loaf, and again at the bowl of berries next to it. "You made me breakfast. We didn't even have sex last night." 

"'Make' is hardly the word I would use," I say, ignoring the other part of her comment. 

"Do you have any coffee?" 

"...Is that a food item?" 

Her smile is tired, making me feel like I've failed. "That's a no, then."

I push my failure aside and watch while she eats, although I don't know what I'm looking for. Abnormalities in behavior? Expressions of disgust? 

Mostly I think of what needs to be done soon. The lab will need to be emptied and cleaned, the greenhouse as well. I can take several of the smaller plants to my apartment without worry, but Ari may have a tough time smuggling any out of the Outpost to place in their personal greenhouse. Perhaps I should ask if they plan to take any at all. 

The difficulty of the situation begins to bog me down, that is, until Cassie reaches for my hand and gives my fingers a reassuring squeeze.��

"You're clicking again." 

I frown in confusion. "Clicking?" 

"That noise you make," she says. "You do it when you're thinking, I think."

Ah, the plate shifting, that's what she means. It's been so frequent the past few weeks I hardly even hear it anymore. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" she asks, squeezing my hand again. She smiles when my frown deepens. "I'm asking what you're thinking about.

There's no point in keeping it a secret. "I'm worried about you." 

"I'm fine," she says casually, shrugging. "I just woke up, so nothing's hitting yet." 

I wait as finishes eating and hands me the bowl. I step to the sink and run the water to wash it off, trying to organize my thoughts once again. Behind me, Cassie takes a deep inhale and then makes a noise of disgust. 

"I should head out. I need a shower," she says, and I nearly drop the bowl in my hands. She can't go, not yet, not when she may collapse. I can't let that happen. 

"You're welcome to use mine," I offer quickly, nodding towards the bathroom.

She shifts from foot to foot as she regards each option, and I try not to smile when she steps towards my bathroom. She stops before entering, and as she opens her mouth to speak, there's a knock at the door.

Cassie and I are equally surprised to see both Jillie and Ari at the door. They were faster than I thought, and I'm glad I asked for extra clothes. After several polite minutes of assuring both that we are alright and making plans for dinner at a later date, they finally left us in peace.

Cassie only turns her back to the closed door, rests her weight on it, and slides downwards until she is sitting on the floor. Her eyes are closed, and her expression is tight and agitated, and I can see tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

I place myself next to her, unable to mimic her legs in their crossed positions and choosing to extend them out. Offering her my primary hand, I try to give her an encouraging smile, but by the expression she returns, I may as well be lying. She looks lost, hopeless, and afraid.

When I was lost, I found that direction from others helped calm the torrent. "Would you like to keep eating, or would you like to bathe now?" 

Her returning smile is small, but I can feel her gratitude through it. "I should wash up, but I don't want to be alone."

I've heard of this-- human pack bonding in times of grief. I'd read about it during a seminar on their behavior. She wants my company so she won't fall into a state of panic while alone in a strange place. 

I'm doing very well at this "boyfriend" thing, I think. 

She starts the water and reaches up to unbutton her shirt, but then hesitates.

“You need to wait.”

“Why?”

“So I can actually shower before we, uh,” she trails off, and it hits me. 

I raise my brow. "You want to have sex. Now."

Cassie makes an odd expression, like I'm a distant object and she's trying to determine how much time she has before impact. "Boy, what--" she starts, gathers herself, and flaps her arms. "I dunno! Maybe? I thought it would…distraction," she trails off and looks down at the floor. That awful, hopeless expression flickers over her face again, and I feel my resolve crumble.

A step forward, and I take one of her hands in mine. Her palm is round, just like the rest of her, slightly cool and light brown. I keep my voice very low so it won't echo off the tile and make me listen to what I'm about to say as I squeeze her hand. "Alright."

For the second time, Cassie smiles at me, and my heart leaps in my chest.

[zexal-club]

It's time I talked about this major plot point in Zexal Club, as it's really important. It's also one of the first skits I did together with @yukii0nna , so I'm really excited to talk about it! For those who don't know, Zexal Club is a crossover between Winx Club and Yu-Gi-Oh ZEXAL, where Bloom is Yuma and Kari's mother.

Tagging a lot of mutuals and followers since this is pretty important to me, even the ones who probably don't follow this AU much

@yukii0nna @marrondrawsalot @kousaka-ayumu @gritsandbrits @soprinceblizzard @darkicewolfknight @bakawitch

Edit: I'm now also tagging @bibookdemon since you don't seem to know much about this AU or even that it's a thing, which sucks because this is my biggest and even favourite Yu-Gi-Oh ZEXAL AU

Warning, this is longer than I thought.

So basically, Yuma's been spending more time with Winx 2.0 (what me and Yukii call our OCs) recently due to still coping with the shock of learning the truth about what he is. He also starts spending less time with the Numbers Club since he hasn't told them yet because, again, weird way of coping. Tori and Bronk notice and decide to talk to him about it.

Yuma realises what he's doing and decides to introduce his main friends(Numbers Club) to his other friends (Winx 2.0). They happily agree.

After school, Yuma calls all of Winx 2.0 + Cathy if tomorrow, they can come to a place he picked so they can all meet each other. Everyone happily agrees. After the call, Yuma and Astral discuss whether or not Yuma should tell his friends his secret. Astral thinks he should, but Yuma's still nervous.

Unbeknownst to either of them, things won't go as smoothly as they hope.

See, other than Winx 2.0, Mari is friends with this boy named Aiden. And Aiden's father, Laurent, is, well, a control freak and a jerk, who thinks Aiden's friends are a bad influence on him and corrupting him. He's thinking of how to keep Aiden away from them, when he's approached by someone: Dark Mist.

Dark Mist offers to make sure Aiden never sees those 'bad influences' again in exchange for his help. He explains how there's this boy keeping secrets from his friends, and he needs said boy out of his way. If he uses his magic to help him corrupt said friends, he'll gladly help. Laurent accepts.

The next day, none of Winx 2.0 + Cathy are able to come, obviously, thanks to Laurent and Dark Mist. Jade's parents said no, Leo got extra training sprung on him, Kikyo had to go for a check-up, Mari got detention, one of them got sick, I think Casey-look, it's been a while, okay?- etc. Yuma has to go and tell his friends the bad news.

Tori, Bronk, Caswell, and Flip are shocked and a bit hurt by this, but are understanding. After everyone leaves, Dark Mist and Laurent get to the next stage of their plan. With their powers combined, they're able to make a corrupted card for each member of the Numbers Club, which they can now use on them since their negative emotions are at their fullest. They give them to the 4.

The next day, Kikyo is back and at school, so Yuma decides to introduce her to the rest of his friends at school during lunch break (Casey and Jason are still unavailable). He manages to actually do it this time, and things go alright enough at first, even if they're a little on edge thanks to the cards' influence (Flip the most). Then, Bronk notices Kikyo's pendant, and she tells him about it. After that, either Bronk takes it or she gives it to him for a bit, that part's a little foggy, but he turns it on, and it points at her. And also then bc of the cards, but I'm not 100% sure. Anyways, she takes it back and brushes it off as being broken. They mention how she should probably fix it, since she could be mistaken for a magi (what magical beings are called in this AU), and that would be bad because magi are bad.

Yep, the corruption made them racist.

Yuma is shocked by this, as none of them have ever shown signs of hating magi. This makes him even more scared to tell his friends he's a fairy, along with making Kikyo uncomfortable. After the whole introduction, he asks The Numbers Club what the hell's gotten into them, as they've never had anything against magi before. They just tell him magi are dangerous and evil.

After school, they wonder why Yuma was so defensive on what they were saying, along with why Kikyo seemed so anxious. They decide to spy on her.

They follow her, going into an empty and probably abandoned building, where she practices her magic. That's when they realise she's a witch. Since their minds have become messed up because of the cards, they decide to record and expose her as 'revenge' for 'stealing' Yuma.

The next day, everyone is looking at Kikyo weirdly. Yuma notices and asks her what's wrong. Suddenly, some jerk pours water on Kikyo, commenting on how she didn't melt or something, causing Yuma to get angry and ask what their problem is. The jerk shows Yuma the recording, and Yuma is shocked that someone found out. Jerk is like, 'You already knew?!' And they fight. Mr. Kay breaks it up and is on Kikyo and Yuma's side. They all go to class.

Throughout the school day, Kikyo is constantly bullied and harassed, with kids throwing spitballs at her, some girls hiding her skirt, so she ends up wearing pants, and some even get violent, with her having a bunch of marks on her face. One student (Cough Miyuki cough) even cut her hair. Yuma uses his magic to heal her, though I think Kikyo used her own magic to regrow her hair, and the two of them think of who exposed Kikyo. Then, a certain someone appears: Shark!

He tells them he knows who did it and will tell them. When asked why, he replies that even he thinks what they're doing is cruel. He then tells them it was Tori, Bronk, Flip, and Caswell, which shocks them. Yuma decides to confront them, and Kikyo goes with him. Shark tags along since, in his own words, he's got nothing better to do.

Yuma goes to the 4 of them. They ask him why he's still with Kikyo after she was outed, and Yuma replies, 'I already knew'. Tori shouts, 'And you stayed with her?!'. Yuma asks why they would do any of this, and once again, where this hate for magi came from. They try to convince him Kikyo's not worth it.

Yuma then asks, 'If I was a magi, would you still care about me?' They wonder why he would ask that. He tells them to just answer. They say yes.

Yuma then shows his magic, shocking them and Shark. (Originally he didn't reveal he was a magi until later, but we did a revision and liked this reveal better.)

Tori grabs Kikyo and asks what she did to Yuma, to which Yuma separates her from Kikyo, saying she did nothing. He finally tells them the truth: His mother was a fairy, and so is he.

Tori processes this for a bit, then starts laughing like any good anime villain. Yuma asks why she's laughing, but she doesn't answer and just keeps going. Frustrated and angry by everything, he slaps her.

I'm seriously considering changes that detail because HOLY SHIT I DON'T THINK THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA ANYMORE.

Tori stops and is quiet for a moment, then says, '...I see'. Yuma tells the Numbers Club he's transferring with Kikyo, and their friendship is over - again, considering changing this part- then tries to leave with Kikyo. Suddenly though, they're stopped by a vine.

Tori, Bronk, Flip, and Caswell have become fully corrupted, and the cards also gave them dark powers of their own. Yuma quickly uses his magic to destroy the vine and manages to escape with Kikyo and Shark. When they get away, they think about what happened. Kikyo remembers their eyes seemed different, and the 3 realise something must've corrupted them. They decide they need to hide somewhere and not their homes because the 4 could look for them their. They go to this abandoned house near-ish to the school that Shark knows about (fanfic logic, am I right?), and try to think about what happened. Shark gets supplies so they can survive. After a while, as they try to figure out how the 4 were corrupted, someone comes to help them: Aiden! Yuma's like, 'Oh, I know you! Mari told me!' He tells them it was his father who did it, but he had help from someone he doesn't know. Kikyo asks who could have a grudge against them and can corrupt people, and Yuma realises, 'Oh no, it's 96!!' And then explains the whole Numbers problem to Aiden. They decide to call Mari to help, since by now, she can come.

A while after, or even the next day, Mari arrives. She sends her pixie, Tika, to spy on the Numbers Club to find the source of the corruption. She goes and sees it's from the cards. She goes back and tells them.

They all decide to confront the Numbers Club head-on. Shark is told to stay back since he doesn't have any real defence against magic. He does.

Yuma, Mari, Kikyo, and Aiden go to The Numbers Club. Well, actually, I'm not sure if Aiden also went, but let's just say now he did. Of course, this leads to a fight.

Yuma and Mari dual transformation!!!

The two respective teams fight, and our heroes manage to win! Yuma uses his magic + the power of friendship to defeat the corruption placed on his friends. He then flies up and yells at 96 to reveal himself, which he does. 96 warns Yuma that this isn't the end, and Yuma warns him back that if he ever hurts his friends again, he'll tear him apart. 96 leaves.

After all that, Yuma manages to properly introduce his two friend groups, and they actually get along! The Numbers Club apologised to Kikyo for what they've done, and Kikyo forgives them since it wasn't really their fault. They all hang out, and plans are made to change schools since their current one SUCKS.

Whoo, I'm finally done!! That was WAY longer than I expected. It was also really nostalgic visiting this whole plot. What do you all think?

[jamminlocks]

CUTE??? {Komori fic}

Tags: F/M, komori motoya x reader, komori motoya & reader, komori motoya x oc, komori motoya & oc, humor, fluff, funny, Komori centric fic, POV third person, Komori Motoya is a mess, original characters are unnamed and not described other than their vibes and player number, not beta read, oneshot Word count: 2106 Summary: amongst a crowd of volleyball players walking around the gymnasium, Komori bumps into someone while he is looking for Sakusa and Iizuna. A/N: in the haikyuu timeline, this is set at the interhigh tournament after Karasuno lost to Aoba Johsai. i will come back and edit this [ao3]

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It’s day two of the interhigh national tournament and all four courts are still in the middle of a game.  Everything is lively, from the games on the court to the audience on the bleachers. The different cheers are loud and its echoes fill the gymnasium. It's almost distracting enough for Motoya to focus on the game in front of him when the crowd watching from another court is getting all riled up. He sits on the bleachers along with the rest of his team. Kiyoomi sitting right beside him. The game in front of them being Matsukawa Tech vs Inarizaki, barely in the middle of the second set. 

Much like last year, the cheering on Inarizaki's side was grand and hostile. Motoya feels bad for everyone serving in Matsukawa, going through the unpleasant feeling of getting boo-ed at. It's already bad enough that they are six points behind Inarizaki but they seem to be catching up when a wall of their blockers scores, blocking a spike from Ojiro Aran no less.

He wanted to watch a little longer. After all, Inarizaki is a team Itachiyama has an eye on for many reasons. Matsukawa Tech also had their best server in the current rotation. As a libero, Motoya needs to understand how they play for him to know how to best receive. But, he'd like to drink something that isn't water before a game, maybe go to the restroom and wash up. It will save him from Kiyoomi's commanding scowl when he asked if he had washed his hands.  

Motoya excuses himself. As he stand, Iizuna-san, who is sitting behind him, asks "where are you going?" 

"I'm gonna try to find some Potari sweat and go to the restroom." 

"Oh, I'll come with you. I actually want to see what they have on the t-shirt stalls." 

"I'll come, too." Kiyoomi said, still focused on the game. 

"You want to go to the restroom, too?" Motoya said, hinting it to something which Kiyoomi doesn't like by side-eyeing him.

"I want to see Shiatorizawa's match up close," his cousin coldly states. 

Motoya scans the occupied courts, the match with Shiratorizawa is way on the other side. If they're quick on their feet, they won't mess much. Not feeling the need to tease his cousin any further, he waits for their captain and his cousin to stand and they all excuse themselves from their team as they walk out of the lined seats. Letting Iizuna-san lead the way. "Let's get going," he said to them.

"Who are Shiratorizawa up against?" Motoya asked, padding the pocket of his sports jacket, checking if he had left some money in them. It had enough money for a drink.

"It's Chikuida," Kiyoomi said, not a hint of enthusiasm for the mentioned team. They're not a powerhouse like Shiratorizawa or Itachiyama, nor are they newcomers to the national tournament.

"They're back this year?" Motoya said, somewhat excited. "Good luck to them I guess." And good luck is all he could wish for them. Much as he likes for the tables to turn to Chikuida's favor and for something fresh and new on the tournament brackets, he doubts they could actually beat Shiratorizawa, especially against Ushijima-san’s spikes. It is an exciting thought if they can. When they walk up to the game in question, it, too, is at its second set, which is already impressive given Shiratorizawa won both sets the day before. "Wow, they're even so far," Iizuna-san pointed to the scoreboard, displaying 10-11. In that moment, Chikuida scored from a spike from their opposite hitter sticking directly on the line, changing the score, 11-11.

They watched without seating on the bleachers and out of the way from where people were walking. The game flows with the two teams basically interchanging points, continuously neck and neck. Then, Chikuida is ahead of Shiratorizawa by four points. Kiyoomi leans a little closer. Motoya notices and he snickers a little. As per-usual, Sakusa Kiyoomi gets agitated at the possibility that another team is inching closer to the level of powerhouse schools.

Iizuna-san waves for Motoya to come with him then turns to Kiyoomi. "Sakusa, I'll go ahead with Komori. Be back in a minute."

Kiyoomi only nods in silence, attention still at the game. Motoya and Iizuna-san leave him in the spacious area among the audience of the Shiratorizawa vs Chikuida match. The two then split up when Iizuna-san headed to the t-shirt stalls to peruse. 

The restroom came first before the vending machine, so Motoya goes there to wash his hand – wiping with his own handkerchief, of course – before buying a drink. Lucky for him, one of the machines has Potari sweat and it drops out without much trouble for him. As he walks, he snaps open the white cap of the bottle, deciding whether he should go back to Kiyoomi or look for Iizuna-san.

And then, the crowd suddenly grew densers, players, gymnasium staff, and the media staff merging in the hall. Their long strides became careful short walks not to add more hassle in the crampedness. Motoya does his best to move around everyone that comes in front of him from what he can tell, he’s getting closer to where he last saw Iizuna-san.

He keeps an open eye for the signature bright yellow of Itachiyama’s jersey in the crowd while closing the led of the bottle. Instead, Iizuna’s mint green hair is the first thing he spots. Motoya calls out to his captain as he waves his unoccupied hand though doesn’t seem to hear it. He moves forward through the crowd until he allows a pair of players to pass. Coming from a different direction, someone bumps into Motoya and the person yelps weakly. The collision has him losing grip of the bottle. As the person starts a half scream that's immediately cut when they catch it could hit the ground.

"Ah, sorry!" He quickly apologizes with his hands shyly reaching out to them, worried that he might have bumped into them somewhere inappropriate. The person stops and stands up right meeting his gaze. A player on the girls side of the tournament. She hands the bottle over. Her team uniform is white with dark green sleeves and a green number 11. She looks at him in shock, worry and apologetic, but she squints. Then, it instantly switches to a charming, wide smile that almost had her cheeks hide her eyes.

“OH HEY!” the girl chimes, less of a greeting and more of realization. Voice smooth and silky, mixed with a kind of bubbly friendliness. "You really do have round eyebrows! That's so cute!!" 

Confusion came like being thrown a bucket of warm water on his back. His first reaction is to laugh in his befuddlement. 

“Eh???” is all Motoyo could muster as he stands still and grip on the bottle getting firmer. 

Then, there's giggling from beside the girl, players in the same uniforms as her, trying their best to hide their laughing and wheezing. They seem just as confused as to what just occurred and appear apologetic on her behalf. Their sweet and nice voices adds to Motoya’s embarrassment. Lucky for him, they are having secondhand embarrassment from teammate’s action underneath their laughter.

"That's what you say first?" The girl in number 5 said in disbelief, grinning from ear to ear as she teases her teammate. "Not even a ‘sorry’?" Said the girl with the number 8, who sounded more troubled despite being humored by it as well.

Someone with the jersey labeled number 2 steps forward, confident and concerned. Their vice-captain, he assumes. "I'm really sorry for my teammate here,” she starts, bowing to Motoya. “She doesn't know how to think before she opens her mouth."

He would have said ‘no worries’ or ‘ it's fine.’ But still a bit surprised from what's happening, Motoya’s words practically froze and he could hesitantly bow back while darting from one girl to the next assessing how many saw that. It did not help that they are all very pretty and they don’t seem offended by him.

“I’m sorry,” number 11 said. “Your arm’s not hurt, is it?” She speaks so kindly. 

Motoya actually checks for pain. Nothing is really there other than a sting that will leave in a moment or two, so he shakes his head. “It’s alright. no harm done,” he said, trying to match her softness to appear not irritated, waving his arms to her to communicate not to pay no more concern over it.

Chuckling, number 5 says, “you really are something, huh? Calling the nation’s best libero ‘cute’.” 

The mention of his appointed title was an arrow of panic in Motoya’s veins. They know him?! He screamed in his thoughts. What else do they know!? 

"She's right though, you are pretty cute," bluntly said by number 12, hand on her chin as she eyes Motoya up and done. Her eyes hinting cheeky interest in him and he thinks something popped in his head. Getting called cute by a pretty girl once is flustering, but again by another girl? That's more than he thinks he can take. Motoya could feel two more degrees of heat up his face. What should he say after that? 

“Um.. thanks?” Motoya said in appreciation while trying his damndest to not sound squeaky in front of these girls. 

Number 11 turns to Motoya again and simply states, “I mean, you do look better in person,” effortlessly doubling down on her comment. They all laugh at her honesty to blatantly compliment him again.

“And taller,” added 5 and some of the girls shook their heads in agreement. Number 2 is the only one who does not join in, placing a hand over her face.

“Um, what's going on here?” Iizuna’s voice invades and takes everyone's attention, and he is with Kiyoomi. The question was more likely pointed to Motoya, but the vice captain of the girl’s team quickly raised her hand and bowed slightly to the two players. “I’m sorry. One of my teammates bumped into your libero and nearly dropped his drink,” she explained.

The other girls follow suit by apologizing to Motoya’s teammates. One by one, they bid the libero farewell. Saying ‘bye’ to Motoya teasingly with a sweet tune as they smile and wave. 

“Good luck to you, guys,” formally said the vice-captain. Motoya and Iizuna-san return it.

11 waves to him.“Sorry again, Komori-chan.” Her voice still caught him off guard. 

Motoya’s eyes last strays on the girl with number 9, who has been covering her laughter the entire time. She gives him an amused look as she smirks at Motoya then sends him a flirty nod. The gesture makes him want to hide his warm face. 

He watches them all leave, almost in a trance. While Iizuna and Kiyoomi are left to ponder what they just walked into.

Suddenly, Motoya sharply turns to the two. Fists clenched and pumped. “GUYS!” He calls them. His cheeks and ears slowly turned to a shade of red. Eyes wide in nervousness, panicked, yet determined. A quivering smile.

“WE- WE’RE GOING TO WIN!!!”

“That is the goal,” Kiyoomi deadpans.

The two may not completely know what had happened but it must have been something enough to practically short-circuit his brain. It finally settles to Motoya that his heart is rushing.

Iizuna nervously laughs, "How about you drink that Potari of yours?" 

Motoya does and he accidentally chugs down the entirety of the bottle.

“You good?” Iizuna asks, concern in

Motoya meekly says “yeah” but he doesn't believe him. With the Libero drinking a 500ml bottle, it leads all of them back to the restroom. Kiyoomi washes his hands again for good measure while Motoya does business, then washing his hands and face. Yet he is still flustered.

Returning with their one teammate several shades redder, Iizuna had to explain that It isn’t a fever or anything and his loose understanding of the situation that happened.

After that, Itachiyama won their match that day and the following matches after that up until the finals.

That little interaction Motoya had with the girls was long forgotten by the time they won the inter-high school tournament. To Iizuna, it's probably the strangest prophetic thing he has witnessed. He isn't superstitious, but it sure was funny to think that Motoya basically manifested their wins. Kiyoomi could care less. As for Motoya, little compliments placked in his brain and the memory of the event comes back to him clear as day. If he thinks a little too long about it, he’ll just steam his head up like a kettle.

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A/N: I had this on my drafts for so long that but when i found out it was komori's birthday, I had to cram this like it was an academic essey due tomorrow ahahahahahaha

but i think i should apologies cause I dont know how to tag this. its technically a komori centric fic, but could be read as 3rd-pov komori x reader fic (to whichever girl had the most rizz lol) or 3rd-pov komori x oc fic, so i tagged it as both. i hope it doesn't bother anyone its tag that way.

thanks for reading and Happy birthday to Komori 🎉🥳🎊