#you have such an incredible talent in storytelling

[whumpypepsigal]

@deepwoundsandfadedscars this is AMAZING! 🥰🥰🥰 ✨whumperflies✨

Find my sun in the dark side of my shadow

Fandom: Once Upon A Witchlight (Legends of Avantris) Words: 4753 Warnings: Descriptions of blood and injury, this is a whump fic Description: Torbek has a nightmare and winds up lashing out, injuring Gideon and Kremy fears for the worst

Read on Ao3

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It's a peaceful night when Gideon wakes. For a few moments he lays there, staring up at the branches of the tall trees surrounding the small clearing where they had set up camp, faintly illuminated by the low glow of the embers of the campfire in the center as he tries to figure out what has awoken him. 

He holds his breath, listening for any sign of movement and slowly scans his eyes across the clearing. Kremy sleeps in his usual spot, positioned between him and the campfire for maximum warmth. To the left of the campfire he sees Hootsie, wrapped around Gricko so only his feet are visible from underneath her fluff and feathers. To the right, Frost sleeps with his head propped on his backpack, arms folded tight across his chest with his robe draped over him.

Everyone seems to be deeply asleep, undisturbed by whatever had awoken him. It's odd. For years now he's been a heavy sleeper, especially since Carnival Lecroux, where he felt safe and secure amongst friends, and nothing short of a horn blown directly in his ear could wake him. What could have awoken him tonight?

He’s just about ready to settle back into sleep again when a noise from the opposite side of the campfire draws his attention, something shifting in the dirt with a distressed keening noise as he bolts upright.

He feels a stab of guilt as he realizes he has once again forgotten about Torbek. The bugbear is fidgeting in his sleep, his brow furrowed in distress as his lip peels back into a snarl. His fingers claw against the ground, as though he is weakly trying to drag himself across the ground in his sleep.

Gideon carefully pushes himself up, moving quietly to not disturbed anyone else as he makes his way around the campfire, dropping to his knees beside Torbek.

“Torbek? Come on man, wake up, you're having a nightmare,” he says gently. As he speaks, Torbeks movement only gets more frantic, his breath becoming heavy. Gideon reaches out a hand and places it on Torbeks shoulder, wary of the canisters on his back that start to hiss and bubble with magenta witchlight.

“Gid, be careful.”

Gideon glances over his shoulder to see Kremy sitting partly upright, balanced on his elbow as he rubs at one eye with his free hand.

“He's having a nightmare, Krem, I gotta try to get him out of it–”

He can't finish the thought as searing pain shoots through his torso, his breath knocked completely out of him with a groan as he's caught so completely off guard. He sees Kremy staring at him, his eyes wide as he stares at Gideons chest. Gideon slowly turns back towards Torbek, whose eyes are open and staring at him with glowing magenta and malice. 

Gideons eyes drop and he stares down at Torbeks hand, where his fingers and claws have elongated and brutally stabbed into Gideons stomach. He drops his hand from Torbeks shoulder to his wrist, weakly gripping onto him as he looks back up at Torbeks face. 

He faintly hears Kremy yell, though it sounds like he's miles away as he feels his energy draining. His vision starts to dim, but he sees the glow from Torbeks eyes flicker, a look of confusion crosses his face as the glow fades and he takes in what has happened, looks at his fingers embedded just under Gideons ribs, before the confusion turns to horror and panic.

“Torbek–” Gideon chokes out, trying to keep his grip on Torbeks wrist as the bugbear starts to pull against him, wrenching his blood drenched hand free before he turns and scrambles across the ground and off into the forest. Gideons hands fall to his sides, unable to even staunch the blood he can feel soaking into his shirt and down his stomach.

The last thing Gideon is aware of is collapsing backwards, feeling Kremys arms catching him across his shoulders, and the terrified looks of the rest of his companions above him as he loses consciousness. 

Kremy almost immediately notices when Gideon gets up and moves away, the loss of such a strong heat source enough to rouse him from his sleep. He rolls towards the low burning campfire, not as comfortable as Gids warmth, but better than sleeping in just the open air until he comes back to sleep. 

He's just about to close his eyes again as he sees Gideon kneel down and speak quietly to Torbek, goading him to wake up from his fitful sleep. 

“Gid, be careful,” he warns, partially pushing himself up.  He knows that Gideon knows exactly how bad of an idea it is to wake someone from a nightmare, especially someone who has been through what Torbek has.

Gideon is in the process of responding to him when Kremy sees Torbeks eyes snap open, light pouring out of them as the bugbear sits upright, and faster than Kremy can even comprehend, sinks his claws deep into Gideon’s lower chest. He can see the points of Torbeks claws poking through the back of Gideons shirt, glinting in red.

“NO!!” Kremy yells, unable to tear his eyes from Gideon’s, who blankly stares back at him. “Torbek, no!” 

His yell immediately rouses the rest of the crew, snapping awake with a jolt, but he can't tear his eyes from Gideon or Torbek. The glow of Torbeks eyes flickers before eventually dimming and a look of distress crosses his face as he starts struggling to get out of Gideons grip, wrenching his hand free with a spurt of blood. 

And then Torbek is gone, and Gideon is wavering on his knees, his hands dropping to the ground.  Kremy scrambles across the campsite and manages to wrap his arms around Gideons shoulders just as he collapses, catching him against his chest. Gideons head lolls against his shoulder and he stares up at Kremy for a moment before his eyes roll back in his head and he goes limp in Kremys arms.

“Gid! No, come on man, you gotta stay with me,” he babbles, lightly slapping his cheeks. “Don't you dare leave me alone with these freaks, I need you, Gid!”

Frost falls to his knees on Gideon's other side, making quick work of his shirt, tearing the front of the thin shirt open with a claw. The wounds exposed made Kremy’s stomach roll, the blood seeping out was thin, flowing easier than it should’ve, with a slight magenta glow to it. Gideons chest rises and falls rapidly, gasping with a horrible wheeze from deep within.

“Gricko! Where are those fucking bananya’s,” he demands. 

When he tears his eyes away from Gideon he can see Gricko is already going through the motions to summon the healing items, his hands suddenly overflowing with small bananas that he quickly mashes into a messy poultice.

“Krem-”

He snaps his attention back to Gideon as he wheezes out his name. “Gid! Oh my gods, hold on, we’re going to get you fixed up, okay? Just don’t move.”

The instructions come too late, as Gideon is already trying to raise his hand towards the wounds. Frost catches his wrist in a soft grip, keeping his hand away long enough that he can wipe the blood from the wounds. Gricko follows closely behind, smearing the poultice across them, pressing it into the torn flesh as much as he can. Gideon gasps as the two of them handle the wounds, his face twisting into a grimace as he throws his head back, pressing hard into Kremy’s shoulder, eyes clenched tight. 

Kremy places his hand on the side of Gideons head, gently rubbing circles against his temple with his thumb. He can't look down, he can't watch as Gricko works on Gideons injuries, so he focuses on his face instead. Seeing him in pain makes his stomach turn, but he feels like if he looks at the wounds, he might actually snap. When Gideons manages to open his eyes again, they are half lidded and barely focused, vaguely staring back at him when he can as his awareness ebbs and flows. Every so often when he blinks, his eyes stay closed a little longer as his consciousness fades and then returns. Kremy fears that any time he closes his eyes, it might be for the last time.

Which wouldn’t be the first time he had thought about what he would do if he lost Gideon. Hells, it wasn’t even the tenth time. But those had been thoughts, hypotheticals. What ifs. Worst case scenarios that should never come to be. 

The what ifs were supposed to just be that little voice of anxiety that rattles around in the back of his mind, able to be squashed behind a front of confidence, thoughts that are unable to manifest anything into the world. If they ever came to be, it should be years down the line. Maybe after they start turning grey with age, not now in the prime of their lives. 

And yet here he is, kneeling in a clearing by a dying campfire, holding Gideon in his arms as he slips in and out of consciousness, choking on his own breath as pain courses through him. Completely helpless. 

Even now he can't get that image out of his head, of Torbeks claws stabbed completely through Gideons torso. 

“His back.” His voice comes out as almost a whisper. Frost looks at him with that intense gaze.

“What did you say, Kremy?”

“His back!” He says louder this time, frantic panic growing in his chest again. “Torbeks claws, they went all the way through!”

Even before he finishes, Frost and Gricko are already dragging Gideon out of his arms, turning him onto his shoulder as they lay him on the ground. Frost has a hand pressed to a strip of fabric covering the poultice on Gideons chest as Gricko uses what little of the mix he has left to cover the wounds on either side of Gideons spine. 

It feels wrong to have his arms empty, he desperately wants to pick him back up again, keep him close as he can, while he can. That anxiety creeps up in the back of his mind again, what if Gricko’s healing isn’t enough? 

He still can’t look at what Gricko is doing, focusing only on Gideons face and running his hand through his hair. Gids eyes are closed, his face lax as his head rests against the dirt. 

“Come on, Gid. I need you to wake up,” he finds himself whispering aloud. He's got both his hands tangled in Gideon's hair now as he leans over him, desperately begging him to wake up!!

Gideons brow tightens and he gasps as Gricko is now pushing another bandage against his back and Gideon blindly searches for something with his hand. Trying to shoo Gricko away, perhaps? Kremy catches Gideons hand in his and immediately Gideon is squeezing his hand as tightly as he can, pulling it towards his face where he presses the back of Kremy’s hand against his cheek. 

He can feel dampness, tears that he hadn't noticed before at the corner of Gideons eye and tenderly wipes them away. Gideons breath catches in his throat as he groans and Kremy can almost feel the bones in his hand grinding against each other with how tightly Gideon clutches on to him. 

“Gricko…” Kremy mutters, an unspoken warning in his voice.

“Trying me best here, Kremy.” 

There’s a flash of light as Gricko claps his hands, the spirit image that had crouched over him dissipating as he sits back with a worried look on his face.

Gideon gasps, his eyes snapping open and he lurches upright, arms flailing.  Kremy’s heart leaps into his throat as he jolts upright and begins to waver, his chest heaving. Frost gently pushes Gideon back and he lands in Kremy’s arms, immediately ensconced in his arms.

“Oh my god Gid, easy now.”

Gideon coughs and then groans as he lets himself slump against Kremy. “What in the hells just happened?”

“Quite literally poked a sleeping bear,” Frost said, sitting back and turning to look out into the forest.

“Where's Torbek?” Gideon immediately tries to sit up again, nearly bowling Gricko over as he tries to wrap Gideons wounds.

“Oi, easy there, Big Red,” Gricko says, trying to push him back down. “Need to get these wrapped up.”

Gideon relents, hissing as Gricko works to wind the bandage around his torso, but turns his attention to Kremy and Frost. “Where’s Torbek?”

“He ran away, off into the forest.” Frost says, still looking into the trees.

“Is he okay? Is the other guy still in control?”

Kremy shakes his head. “No, he looked like himself again before he freaked out and ran.”

Gricko finishes securing the end of the bandage and sits back, followed immediately by Gideon pushing himself to his feet, faster than any of them expect him to be able to move in this state. He wavers a bit and Kremy pops to his feet to support him.

“Take it easy, man,” he says.

“I can’t, I gotta go find him.”

“Gid, you need to rest, let someone else go find him,” Kremy insists, keeping a hand on Gideon's arm. 

“I’m okay, Kremy.” He claps his own hand over Kremy’s, squeezing it reassuringly. “I need to show him I’m fine, and besides… I need to talk to him.”

Kremy nods, knowing what Gideon is thinking about and reluctantly lets go of him.

 “I’ll make waffles for when you guys get back.”

It's not hard to follow where Torbek went, the panicked bugbear having left a trail of loping footprints and broken foliage through the forest. The walking and calling out his name makes Gideons chest ache, and he runs out of breath way sooner than usual, much to his annoyance.

After several minutes of walking he hears heavy panting and dirt being thrown around, and as he calls Torbeks name again he hears wailing in response.

“Has Mr. Gideon come to haunt Torbek, Torbek is so sorry, Torbek didn't mean to kill Mr. Gideon!” Torbeks voice is muffled as he cowers in the small hovel he has dug under the roots of a tree, which is nowhere near big enough to house his lanky stature. His back is exposed and Gideon can see that the canisters upon it are full again and not bubbling, and despite his hunched posture his limbs appear to be their normal length again.

“Torbek, it's me.” Gideon says, gingerly lowering himself to his knees next to the gnarled roots of the tree. “I'm okay, alright? I ain't dead.”

“Don’t lie to Torbek!” Torbek howls, covering his head with his hands, hiding his face.

“Torbek, stop!” Gideon grasps onto Torbek’s wrist, gently pulling his hand away from his face. Torbeks eyes are clenched tight, his face wet with tears, and his other hand moves to cover his eyes again before Gideon reaches out for that hand too. “Hey man, open your eyes. It’s just me, Torbek.”

Torbek sniffs loudly, but he doesn’t fight against Gideons grip on his hands. He tilts his head back, trying to control heavy sobfilled breaths that make his shoulders shake, his whole body trembling. Torbek slowly manages to pry one eye open and squints at him, and Gideon smiles at him with a lopsided grin that he hopes is reassuring.

Both eyes pop open and Torbek pulls his wrists out of Gideons grasp and reaches for his shoulders, as thought to verify that this image in front of him is a corporeal form, solid and able to be touched. “M-mr. Gideon?”

“In the flesh-” Gideons words turn into a groan as Torbek suddenly grabs him into a hug, squeezing him tightly and jostling his wounds. “Ow! Easy, big guy, still a little tender here.”

Torbek quickly lets go and scampers back a few paces, babbling as he goes. “Torbek is so sorry, Torbek didn't mean to hurt Gideon, Torbek didn't know what was happening!”

Gideon places a hand over the tender wounds and sits down on a fallen tree nearby, patting the space next to him. “I know you didn't mean to, Torbek. Come sit down.”

Torbek folds into himself as he hunches his back, his head nearly sinks into his shoulders as he makes himself as small as possible, carefully making his way to the tree and sits down with a space between them. 

“Torbek had a nightmare,” he says as he settles on the log. As hunched over and folded into himself as he is, he still looks ready to bolt at any moment.

Gideon nods. “I figured that's what happened. I've been there too, man. What was it about?”

“Torbek…” Torbek looks down at the grassy forest floor, shuffling his feet as he searches for the words. “Torbek can’t really explain what Torbek was dreaming about. Torbek was in pain, it was so bright, there were people who didn't have faces, and there were needles,” Torbek groans as he looks down at his hands. Gideon can still see some of the blood on his hands, though most of it is coated in dirt and wood splinters now. “And then suddenly Torbek was awake and Torbek had hurt Mr. Gideon and Torbek was so scared!”

Gideon reflexively puts a hand on Torbeks shoulder, making sure the anxious bugbear doesn’t bolt again. Torbek sways a bit, as though internally fighting with himself over sitting still or running off into the forest. 

“I’ve been in your position before, Torbek. We don’t talk about it anymore ‘cause there hasn’t been a need to, but I’ve hurt a dear friend during a nightmare like that too.”

Torbek looks at Gideon, his eyes wide. “R-really?”

Gideon lets go of Torbeks shoulder and looks off into the trees as he starts to speak.

“I still remember the dream very clearly. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it. It’d only been a few weeks since I escaped from the train- hells, I still had wounds of my own still healing from my escape,” Gideon gestures to the scars on his arms and shoulders, visible through the open front of his torn shirt. Torbek follows the gesture and cringes into himself as he looks down at the bandages around Gideons torso and averts his eyes. 

“But in my dream I was stuck back in that engine, deep in the heart of the furnace. The chains were anchored into the walls and I was stuck, just like I had been for years. When I looked up, the hatch at the top was open and I could see those damn hobgoblins looking down at me, taunting me. Must not have been much for entertainment on the train, cause they sure loved doing that.

“The faces were getting closer to me, sorta floating in the air around me and they were prodding me with their weapons, grabbing at me with their hands. I was pulling on the chains, hoping that maybe this time I’d be strong enough to rip those damn anchors out of the wall. I felt one of their hands touch my chest and it was like ten years worth of rage just imploded and I ripped those anchors out like nothing. I whipped my chains,” he mimicks flinging the chains out in an arc around him, making a whip crack noise with his mouth, “and wrapped them around that fuckers throat and dragged him down so I could watch the life drain out of his eyes.”

He pauses and takes as deep of a breath as he can comfortably take. He grabs a tiny twig of a branch and snaps it off of the fallen tree the two of them are sitting on, twirling it between his fingers. “As I’m strangling this guy, in the back of my head I heard a voice that said ‘would you kindly let go of me.’ 

“And suddenly I was awake, and the face in front of me wasn’t that goddamn hobgoblin. It was Kremy, and the chains were glowing hot around his throat, so tight that he couldn’t breath.

“That was the first time he ever used his abilities on me, and he only barely managed to do it with what little air he had left. It scared the hell out of me, the way his eyes rolled back and he crumpled when I got the chains off of his throat, I was sure I had killed him too.” The twig snaps in two in his hands and he quickly snaps them into four smaller pieces before flinging them into the underbrush. “I didn’t know what to do, all I could do was get the chains off and shake him until he took a breath on his own, which thank fuck that that worked, ‘cause if it hadn’t… I don’t know what I would’ve done if it hadn’t. I don’t know anything about healing, so I was useless to him there. And I don’t know if I’d even be alive today if it weren’t for him.

“He couldn’t speak for three days after that, and the heat from the chains burned his neck pretty bad. For the most part, it healed, but I know he still has some scars under his shirt collar. I still feel terrible about it, but we've talked about it and worked through it, and he has never held it against me.”

He claps a hand onto Torbeks shoulder again, startling him. “So what I’m trying to say is that it’s alright, Torbek. I’ve been where you are, and I know I should’ve been more careful. I know you were scared and you didn’t mean to hurt me, just like I never meant to hurt Kremy.”

Torbek clenches his fists and presses them against his head as he shakes it, his face twisted in despair. “Torbek would never dream of hurting Gideon, Torbek would never want to hurt any of his friends.”

Gideon gently grasps his wrist, pulling his hands away from his head as the bugbear starts squeezing his own head. “Hey man, don’t beat yourself up about it.” He spreads his arms wide, as if to display himself. “Look, I’m alright! A couple new scars ain’t gonna kill me, hell it just makes me look even more badass.”

Torbek shrugs, looking sheepish. “Scars are pretty cool.”

Gideon throws his head back with a laugh, to which Torbek gives a sad smile. “Torbek just wishes that Torbek didn’t give you the scars.”

Gideon manages to contain his laughter, once again clapping Torbek on the shoulder. “Just as I wish I’d never given Kremy his scar either, man. The both of us have gone through some shit, and we can't control our nightmares. I knew it was risky to get close while you were having one, so if anyone's to blame for tonight, it's on me, okay? This isn't your fault.”

Torbek makes a face, expressing his doubt. “It sorta is Torbeks fault though…”

Gideon pushes Torbeks shoulder so he twists to look at Gideon, his face serious. “No. It's not, Torbek. I don’t think it was even you in control when this happened. I think the other guy woke up first and he was the one that did this.”

Torbek’s ears flattened back and he sunk even further into himself with a groan. 

“So it really isn’t your fault, Torbek.” 

“Torbek doesn’t like the other guy.”

“Yeah, he’s kinda an asshole,” Gideon laughs. “Which is why we’re going to figure this out, okay? We’ll figure out what his deal is and see if we can get him outta ya. And in the meantime, we’ll just have to… I don’t know, stay out of reach if you’re having a nightmare.”

“Torbek gives Gideon permission to throw something at Torbek to wake him up next time.” Torbek winks at Gideon, his lips peeling back into a toothy grin.

Gideon laughs and wraps an arm around Torbek, pulling him into a jovial side hug. “Well, I just hope you don't have any more nightmares, okay? But if it comes to that, I'll make sure it's something soft.”

“Torbek appreciates that.”

Gideon feels Torbek relax into the hug and holds him there for a few moments. He squeezes Torbek tightly one more time before releasing him and pushing himself to his feet. 

His vision spins when he stands and suddenly Torbek is there, bending his lanky posture to duck under Gideons arm to support him until the dizziness passes.

“Alright, that's about enough of that,” Gideon mutters, blinking his eyes rapidly as he tries to focus on their surroundings. “I feel like I'll need your help getting back there Torbek, but a little birdie told me there's waffles waiting for us at the campsite.”

Torbeks ears flick up, his eyes widen, and he emits an excited hum, almost entirely lifting Gideon off the ground as he straightens up and all but carries Gideon back to the clearing.

It isn’t until he hears Gideons laugh just a few paces away that Kremy realizes just how much he had been holding his breath, waiting for him to return. Though his sigh of relief turns to distress again as he looks up from his cooking and sees Torbek supporting almost all of Gideons weight as they exit the tree line. 

Gideon looks terrible still, his brow tight despite the grin on his lips, and his shirt hanging off of him in tatters. His face twists into a grimace as Torbek moves his arm off his shoulders and shuffles away, slinking into a crouch by the fire that Gricko is pushing another log into.

Gideon makes his way over to Kremy, moving stiffly as he lowers himself to the ground next to the stump Kremy is sitting on. Once seated he groans, placing both hands over the bandages and slowly allows himself to flop back onto the dirt, almost in the same spot he had been sleeping before the night's interruption, and closes his eyes. 

“How are you feeling?” Kremy asks, using his foot to nudge Gids' satchel-turned-pillow against his shoulder.

In response, Gideon raises one hand in a thumbs up before letting it flop into the dirt, absolutely exhausted. He lifts his head to shove the satchel under it and once he’s settled, opens his eyes to look up at Kremy with a soft smile. 

“Feel like I could sleep for a week right now.”

“Don’t blame ya at all.” 

Gideon yawns so widely that Kremy hears his jaw click and he winces at the sound. He turns back to the fire, checking the waffle iron buried in the logs, and then looking around at the rest of the group. Frost has Torbek holding out his hands, using a towel and one of his water skins to wash the blood and dirt off of them. Gricko is yammering away, telling some wild Goblin story that Torbek seems to be enthralled by, laughing loudly when Gricko says something in a language only the two of them understand. Hootsie is laying on the ground next to Torbek, leaning against him as she slaps at her fly-pad. 

Kremy pulls the iron out of the fire and deposits the fluffy golden waffle onto one of the small plates he carries with him, quickly refills the iron and shoves it back into the fire before getting up to move over to Torbek, presenting the plate to him. 

Torbek looks up at him in surprise before gratefully accepting it. “Thank you, Mr. Kremy. Torbek is really sorry for hurting Gideon and scaring Mr. Kremy.”

“We’re all good, Torbek.” Kremy says, patting him on the shoulder with a small smile and then moving back to his stump.

“You want one of these, Gid?” He’s barely finished asking the question when a loud snore rends the air and he looks down at Gideon, splayed out on the ground and completely out for the count. 

Seeing him sleeping so peacefully again makes Kremy’s heart flutter, a far cry from how he felt only an hour ago when he thought he would lose this man. He’s okay, everythings going to be okay, he tells that little voice of anxiety in the back of his mind. 

“You probably need to sleep more than you need food right now, so I’ll make you one in the morning, you big idiot,” he says, smiling fondly at the sleeping form beside him.

[the-river-runs]

My best friend Fandom has once again returned and asked me to post to Tumblr for her! Once again, I have permission to post this video and all edits were done by Fandom (http.redshoes on Instagram)

These memes are all based on Cryptid Sightings by @naffeclipse

She has a lot to say this time around!

A message from Fandom:

"Hello Naff!! And hello everyone :D

It’s me, your girl, your local meme and edit maker, Fandom (aka http.redshoes on Insta 😎)

I’ve come back to make another meme comp for you guys! I wanted to make this earlier, but:

1. I was busy saving/collecting ATSV content on Instagram like Pokémon to getting noticed twice by Jack in the Box ☺️

2. I had to create an Ao3 account (understandably ofc AI theft sucks) and was um. You know… being silly in the comment section 👀 (please don’t mind me if you ever stumble upon them - I react and appreciate the stuff I enjoy in weird ways 💔)

3. Was waiting for my friend here to finish reading so I didn’t spoil anything in the memes! We both loved the series so much and man. The Naff do be eclipsing fr in releasing chapters left and right biggest round of applause for one of my favorite authors here 👏👏👏

Naff, you did such a great job writing this fanfic. I’m going to repeat myself from the comment section BUT you need to give yourself a pat on the back, relax, take a break - just reward yourself. You deserve it all and I hope that you take care of yourself for all the hard work you’ve done 💞💞💞

I’ve also included the lovely artist themselves, @themeeplord , again in one of my meme comps.

It’s only one meme but dang they always draw Eclipse to be getting that gain 💪💪💪 (bc of how muscular he is haha.) Mad respect to all of the drawings they create - they’re always a banger to see.

(Most of the memes surround the last episode + epilogue so if you haven’t read those chapters LOOK ‼️ AWAY ‼️ Don’t get spoiled 🤯)

(P.S. for the imagine scenario that’s not a meme, this is what they’re saying in the audio:

“[Amused] You can hear their heartbeats? Come on, that’s a little far fetched.”

“[Soft chuckling] I can hear yours too… Your heart’s beating pretty fast.”

I’d like to think this would take place around the beginning of “The Episode Bedeviling Bodies,” where the Hunter is still trying to understand their dear friend and what they’re capable of. I thought it was fitting ngl and included it in the comp.

There were uh, more memes I wanted to include, but I’m running low on storage space atm. I’ll get back to making more after I’m done clearing that out ^^’)

(P.P.S. Okay I don’t have Tumblr obviously but 🕴️ apparently you guys really liked the SJ memes I made??? Because my friend’s been receiving notifs of it still??? Thank you so much you guys!! I didn’t really expect people to enjoy them that much 😭💘💘💘)

Now without further ado, enjoy the meme comp! >:D " -Fandom

[curryshesus]

bts fics that radiate sheer utter brilliance

(aka my favorite fics of all time) pt. 1

hello, hello! please make sure to show your love and support to these lovely authors if you enjoyed any of these reads as much as i did <3 note: all of these fics contain nsfw content (minors dni please). enjoy!

➺ the road to you - by @bonvoyagenoona

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>>summary: "armed with your quick wit, creative passion, talent for storytelling, and innate understanding of your fanbase, you have met every challenge, surpassed every goal, and achieved the unimaginable. despite the earth shifting erratically under your firmly planted feet, you’ve always had a plan. you’ve made peace with the sacrifices you’ve had to make, and you’ve long forgotten the rejections and heartbreaks that came as a result. your agent keeps reminding you that you’re at the precipice of something new, that your audience is waiting for your next project with bated breath. this is usually when you thrive. so why do you feel so lost? and who can you count on from your past to help you find your way?"

➺ matilda - by @babystrcandy

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>> summary: "loneliness had always been a constant for you, haunting you like a ghost; until your older brother’s best friend, min yoongi, came into your life. you both promised each other something back then - you’d always have his support and he’d always have yours. but with time and age, you weren’t sure how much that all still stood to be true."

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| jungkook x reader | 49.5k

1980’s au, inspired by to all the boys i’ve loved before, e2l, fake lovers/college au, frat boy!jungkook, smut, series

>> summary: "the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook."

➺ flower - by @readyplayerhobi

| hoseok x reader |

online dating au, fluff, future angst, future smut, series

>> summary: "you finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the flower dating app. one of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. what happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

➺ suncity - by @jamaisjoons

| hoseok x reader | 17k

strangers to lovers au, vacation au, angst, fluff, smut, oneshot

>> summary: "when you’d taken a spontaneous trip to barcelona, you hadn’t expected to meet hoseok. more than that, you hadn’t expected to begin a torrid affair with him."

➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk

| jungkook x reader | 40.9k

fuckboy!jk x hopeless romantic!oc, s2l, fwb, smut, angst, oneshot

>> summary: "jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return."

➺ peach parfait - by @jamaisjoons

| seokjin x reader | 19k

enemies to lovers au, fluff, smut, slight angst, two parts

>> summary: "you and seokjin have always been at odds as the top two chefs at big hit academy of culinary arts."

➺ tell me no lies - by @jeongi

| jungkook x reader | 15.1k

ceo au, criminal au, robbers au, angst, smut, minimal fluff

>> summary: "you chose to rob your boss, however; you never expected to fall in love with him."

➺ concrete king - by @bratkook

| jungkook x reader | 16.7k

sweet summer romance, fluff, smut, himbo energy, two parts

>> summary: "when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor there's no way you could ever say no to him."

[simmireen]

The more poses you make as a pose creator, the more things you learn and the more things you see. 

Maybe you have seen my former post, maybe not. But I want to address again that stealing is not OK. 

I use and see a lot of poses almost everyday, I reblog and maintain the poses masterlist (@ts4-poses), I am a sims-storyteller that loves to pose with poses from other creators for my story and ofcourse, make my own poses to share. But also...

I recognize my flaws in my own poses, my poses are not perfect, I learn everyday, that's why I knew this pose was mine. But by now, we have found 15 posecreators that have been done the same to, by Simsulani. And maybe you have seen in Toys of Dukeness their patreon post there is possibly another pose creator KD89 doing the same to them. What led to them deleting all of their content in our community. And seeing something leave the community over this, is sad. We lost already so many talented creators due to this.  

You have to know, Simsulani @hellosimsulani has around 20k followers on her patreon and about 200 people that support her by paying money to her. No, I'm not jealous, I share my poses because I want you to use my poses in-game. I'm not here in any way to have any financial gain. And I know this is the case of many others on the list down here that were affected. We want to make you happy, to be able to tell your story. 

But this money (maybe even your money) that she is earning over other people's creations that she adjusts, is not earned in a fair way. 

She violates many of the other posecreators TOU's. 

Besides taking poses and adjusting them, she adds accessories to the patreon post instead of linking to people's pages. (@simmisstrait her letterboard in this post) That's okay if it’s deleted, but doing so when this creator is still active? That’s not ok (only if it's okay stated in their TOU)

In her own TOU she even states that you can't take her poses and re-upload somewhere else. But clearly it's okay to do it if she does it?

Please ! Do not re-upload my content. Do not claim my content as your own. Do not upload to Simsd0m/S!msf!nds Do not upload to another site without my permission.

After finding out about Toys of Dukeness and Acha-games, I found out my own pose got stolen and adjusted, and after that I got a lot of messages and pictures. People started helping investigate their own poses. These are the things we found. Thanks to @theserenadeofshadows her detective skills and her super SUPER hard and dedicated work this weekend (she is one of these 15), she made this amazing doc with the proof she and others found. At least a few posepacks are not her poses entirely. If we had more photographic memory skills and time, who knows what we could find out more. 

THE PROOF DOC 

NOTE: IT'S HEAVY UNDER INVESTIGATION STILL, but we wanted to show the proof we already have found! See and judge for yourself.

If you are a pose creator, please check if maybe one of your own poses got stolen, though she is very good at camouflaging it. It is incredibly hard to notice the stolen poses at first glance, it is a real frankenpose fiasco. @theserenadeofshadows tried to dissect the poses and find the original creators, and we found this stated in the doc, but know it is a slow and tedious process, so we can't find every pose and or posepack.

Groups and couples got split up and merged. Places in groups got swapped and/or rotated. Normal couples or single poses suddenly got a kid or partner (or both). Some expressions were made clownesque, exaggerated or the eyes closed. To make it even harder, she added accessories or removed them. She changed the body anatomy (resulting in broken poses sometimes) to make it appear different.

You can spot some weird clipping or gaps in the previews sometimes. 

We are not out to cancel someone, we stand for creativity and hope Simsulani will think about her actions and start making her own poses from scratch. Not stealing someone else's time because you need to create for your patrons. I know myself Patreon gives you a certain pressure to create for the people who pay for you, because you don't want to let them down. 

But doing this by stealing and putting it behind early access to earn a quick buck because you have no time or are too busy? 

Not OK. In no way. 

Thanks to everyone sharing and spreading the word and please keep doing so ❤️ 

[bakugosgothhoe]

You made reader a different kind of hero.

It's beautiful.

— CAN'T WE BE SEVENTEEN? ; shoto todoroki ; 焦凍

summary: he's loved you since he was seventeen. pairing: f!reader x pro hero!shoto ; reader was a 1-A student tags: mutual pining, heavy make-out, thinly veiled sugar daddy shoto, reader does not go pro, touya might be a dick but he's a hero now, shoto is bad at feelings wordcount: 5.6k a/n: i do not fucking know what came over me, enjoy your food my little todorokinas. yes the title is what you think it is. no i will not elaborate.

You never did go pro.

Truthfully, you thought there would be more pushback when, in your senior year, you announced your plan to pursue a degree in early childhood education with a focus on non-conforming quirk development. 

The War changed a lot. It changed you, your classmates, and the world. But, through it all one thing stuck with you:

What if someone helped Tenko Shimura?

How different would his life have been? How different would history have spun? 

You graduated at the top of your class and joined the faculty at Chiba Prefectural Preparatory School for Quirk Specialties two years ago. 

Chiba Prep was opened eight years ago in response to a societal cry for more infrastructure around what was dubbed "non-conforming quirks": a nice way to say quirks that can injure, maim, or kill. Maybe even all three on a bad day. Some parents still see their child being labeled as a non-conforming quirk user in the national database as akin to social suicide. 

You see it differently.

Your quirk allows you to manipulate emotions — anger, sadness, betrayal, love, hatred. If you can feel it, you can sink it into another's psyche deep enough to drive them to act. You can even imbue things with feelings. For example, a cup of warm milk can transform into more than just a simple comfort, now it can hold the feeling of home and safety, or even exhaustion strong enough to put even the biggest foe to rest. 

You could easily use your quirk with nefarious intent. 

You could steep hatred in someone's bone so deep it drives them to harm themselves. You could sew fury so solid into someone's mind it drives them to violence. 

Just a touch and you can control others with something so intrinsically personal it only exists within themselves: their feelings.

What makes you any different from little Asuke, a shy little girl with a quirk that allows her to see people's greatest fears, and then manifest and control them? You're convinced she can use this for good, if only with practice. In your mind, her future is bright and glimmering. Perhaps she will become a therapist, focusing on exposure therapy? Or, maybe the most prolific horror novelist in their time? 

Or, bright and sunny Tao — a transplant whose parents sought out Chiba Prep's specialized education — whose heteromorphic quirk makes his bodily fluids, namely saliva, eat through nearly anything but his own biologics. A sneeze is quickly the most dangerous thing in the world for the cheery, lizard-bodied class clown. 

He's just a boy given a quirk that needs more care. 

He isn't a villain-in-training. 

None of them are.

It's important to teach them that young — and as their teacher for Year 3 of their elementary schooling, you aim to hammer that in as much as possible. They deserve to feel normal. To feel loved and supported. They aren't scary, they're children. 

So, you take it upon yourself to insist on pushing for privileges like field trips. There aren't many public spaces that welcome the classes of Chiba Prep with open arms. Over the years, there have been plenty of incidents. But, a day trip into the city to visit Tokyo's Hall of Heroes is green-lit with bubbling excitement from both faculty, the children, and their parents. 

You usually keep your history as a graduated member of Class 1-A quiet. 

After all, you never did go pro.

And even still, Shoto Todoroki never stopped thinking about you.

He remembers that weekend everyone moved back in for their last year before graduation. He remembers you smiling at him, and helping him drag up a duffel of luggage from the common room to his dorm. You made a joke about how you're sure he got taller over the summer, and how his hair is longer now. You said you liked it. 

It was the beginning of the end, then.

His crush was a silent, smothering thing. It made it hard to think. Shoto had enough on his plate thanks to Touya's acceptance into the Villain Rehabilitation Program and his father's insistence on staving off retirement. Not to mention his parent's divorce — no matter how amicable, it was still a separation. Add on training, tests, studying, finals, and j-term classes... And a desperate, writhing, burning crush on the nicest girl in class? 

Touya's elbow digs into Shoto's side.

It drags him back to reality — to the stifled quiet of the historical Hall of Heroes. 

Suddenly, the doors to the wing squeak open, and a tour guide ushers in the elementary school class. The buzzing excitement and wonder are visible on each of their faces as the attendant — one of the HoH's lead tour guides — excitedly explains the newest, in-progress addition to the Hall:

Endeavor's wing. 

There's a whisper of awe that ripples through the children as their teacher and co-teacher follow, and as the class moves through the large, open space. They're staring up eagerly at the gilded statue in the center of the room. It's larger than life and intimidating. Years ago, Shoto might have had to fight the odd tremble in his knees at the reminder it brings: to be small in his father's shadow again. But, things are different now. 

Very different.

Touya scoffs. "I thought this wing wasn't open to the public yet."

"They're just children," Shoto hums, turning his back on the gaggle across the way to inspect the large mural winding along the back end of the installation, "I'm sure it's—"

"Oh, ho, no way!"

Shoto quirks his brow at his brother's outburst. His elbow digs into Shoto's ribs again. 

"Ain't that the pretty girl you never got the balls to ask out your senior year?" comes the rasped drawl of his older brother's voice. Touya is clearly amused, his white hair hanging in his eyes as he leans forward to squint, "She is cute, Sho'—"

"Shut up," Shoto grits, turning his head over his shoulder; he tries to bite back the flurry of nerves that ignite in his gut, "Stop talking."

It is you.

You look... good. 

Happy. 

You're crouched by a small, timid girl in the back of the crowd. Your hand is in hers, and you're pointing upwards at the large paneled screens replaying Endeavor's most historic fights. You're explaining something to her, your knees bent as you squat. You look... the same. As if in the six years since they graduated, you sat still in time. 

For a second, it's like he's seventeen again.

It's his senior year, and he's stuck at the corner of the gym's edge with a half-empty glass of punch in his hand. The lights are low, and there's slow music playing. His tie feels too tight. Bakugo keeps telling him to 'ask her to dance already', and Kirishima is considering bashing his head through the wall. Even Midorya is trying to persuade Shoto. 

"It's prom, man! C'mon, this could be your last chance—"

Touya is about to be a real pain in the ass — his favorite pastime — and make some comment about your ass, but when he turns to lob the one-liner at his baby brother, Shoto's gone.

Shoto is on the move.

The crescendo of gasps draws your attention first.

Then, the cry of "WOAH, IT'S SHOTO!" leaves you dumbfounded. The rippling murmur of excitement bleeds into the children as their eyes — and the eyes of the tour guide — widen at the sight of the approaching Pro Hero. 

Shoto Todoroki.

He looks... good. 

Really good.

He's a bit older, and a bit more filled out than when you were both teenagers. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders — it's a distant echo of his father's physique, though Shoto is so much more elegant and much... prettier. He's always been.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

It's your senior year, and you're sprawled across Momo Yaoyorozu's bed.

They had finally wrangled out of you who your crush was: something they hadn't been able to do in all their years as classmates.

There's a sticky, Miss Midnight-themed face mask clinging to your expression as you try to flip through the large magazine in your hands as nonchalantly as possible. Mina's voice, as she paints Ochaco's nails a bright pink on the floor, is sweet and saccharine as she looks up at you.

"I think you and Shoto would be, like, the cutest couple ever." 

You're still crouched when the tour guide nervously — like she was caught doing something naughty — introduces The Pro Hero Shoto to the already-aware crowd of elementary school students and their teachers. It's like igniting a match; the uproar of excitement leaves you laughing as three of your boys push forward to bombard him with questions about his quirk. 

Asuke is smiling shyly, now. That's a small win. She's intrigued by the appearance of a real hero, not the "scary statues" — and her big, fat tears stopped rolling the moment you laid a gentle hand on her to quell her anxiety over the new environment with a push of comfort through your quirk. She unhooks her pinkie finger from yours as you guide her towards your co-teacher. 

"Boys," you call with a crisp air of authority as you stand and lead Asuke toward the bulk of the field trip group, "What have we learned about personal space?"

"It's fine, really, Insight," comes Shoto's voice; as warm and placid as you remember. 

"Insight?" mutters your co-teacher at the presumed hero-name; a look of confusion plasters itself on her face, and her big, feline ears perk up. She leans in to whisper in a way that borders on conspiratory, "Do you two know one another?"

"Old classmates," you confirm, not daring to get into the finer details.

Shoto's attention is entirely rooted in the way you manage the kids. There's something beautiful about the ease with which you handle the bouquet of students; you quell the excitement into a manageable decibel like it's as easy as breathing. 

"Shoto," you start as you gesture to him, "Has a very special quirk — Toyamai, he has ice like you. And, fire like Tojiro. He can regulate his temperature. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

There's a wave of hands shooting up, a few me, me, me's rise from the gaggle. 

You're using him as a teaching moment.

Shoto's smile is soft.

You nod at Ogomi, excitedly nodding as the reserved child speaks up. Normally, he hates public speaking. But, recently, he's started working with the speech pathologist during lunch. The boy bounces a little as he answers. "He doesn't g-get too hot, or too c-cold."

"Exactly! Isn't that cool?" you grin at the lazy attempt at a pun, "This is why it's important to learn about our quirks as much as we can!"

Touya thinks this whole thing is just too cute. 

You're different than he remembers — but, granted, things were sorta different last time he saw you. He was a little too busy tryna kill his old man and lil' Shoto. He's different now, too. A changed man! A real licensed hero. Support items and all. 

He hangs back. 

He... I mean, he is a jack-ass but he isn't gonna ruin this for Shoto. 

...It's kinda cute.

Just about as cute as Fuyumi said it was. 

Apparently, Shoto had opened up to her and Natsuo about his feelings after graduation — about how he regretted not doing anything about it. Fuyumi then told their mum, who then off-handedly mentioned it to Touya... and well Touya dug in because, duh, he is a whore for good gossip. He might be the family's black sheep, but Shoto is the glue that binds. 

And he deserves to be happy.

Your co-teacher is ushering the kids to the next installation — a viewing of All Might's Legacy, a new documentary following the retired pro's teaching career. It will be a good wind down for them, in comfy seats and the dark. It's hardly the sort of content an elementary school student would find riveting, but it is All Might. And they love him.

You hang back. 

Shoto's heart is hammering in his chest.

"Hey."

"Hi," you greet back, closing the door to the theater and stepping forward as you weave your arms around you, "Long time no see."

"Yea," Shoto breathes, his hands in his pockets as he meets you halfway across the museum's marble floors, "I... I see you're teaching."

His eyes are as pretty as they were back then. Slate grey and piercing turquoise. "I'm in my second year," you confirm softly, fiddling with the material of your sweater, "Congrats to your old man."

You gesture up at the statue, then wave around to the rest of the installation.

Shoto inhales, then nods; he's staring at your face, blissfully realizing you're just the way you were all those years ago. Kind. "I'll pass it along."

"How's he handling it?" you ask, your eyes raking across his expression and trying not to stick to the sharp slope of his jaw, or the bob of his Adam's apple, "Retirement, I mean."

"He's happy, I think. Touya and I are working together and... things are...  good."

Last month, Endeavor finally retired. He cited his age, and his dedication to passing his legacy to his two sons: Shoto and Touya. Shoto has planted himself firmly within the Top Ten in the last year or so, and shockingly, Touya isn't far behind. People love an underdog's redemption story, you suppose. 

And the underdog in question can read a room. 

This is getting a little too sexually tense for even him.

"Heeeeey, girl," he rasps out, staggering backward with a thumb over his shoulder, "Nice t' see ya. I'll let you two catch up, yea? I'm gonna go pop my head into the theater, see how the kids are handling the snooze fest on screen—"

You jump.

How long has he even been there?

"Hi, D— Touya," you strain, wincing a little; the rehab'd villain doesn't seem to mind.

"Hi, teach'. That cool with you?" he asks, wobbling his thumb and quirking a pierced eyebrow; it's comical, like he's trying to disarm you with humor, "Don't want you thinkin' I'm corrupting your youths—"

"It's fine," you breathe, ignoring the sting of age-old mistrust. You know better. Shoto wouldn't be here, with him, if Touya Todoroki hadn't changed. Endeavor wouldn't be entrusting his legacy to the ex-League of Villain member if he didn't believe in his capacity for good, "Just don't be disruptive."

Casting judgment on someone whose life was nearly destroyed by his own non-conforming quirk would go against everything you taught the kids anyway.

"Touya's whole thing is being disruptive," Shoto grits as his oldest brother slips silently through the doors, "I apologize for him—"

"No," you wave him off, laughing a little, "Don't. It's... nice to see you two together."

Shoto's expression is soft as he wanders a little closer. "It took time — and a lot of therapy — but we've all managed to come out the other side."

"That's great to hear, Shoto," you breathe, your eyes flitting across his face, "I'm really happy for you."

There's a long silence, then — and you can't help but ignore the roil of butterflies in your stomach. The eye contact is heavy with some unspoken thing, and both of your tongues are weighted by secrets-never-turned-confessions. 

It's like finally this dance you've been doing around one another for years breaks — and the two of you throw caution to the wind at the exact same moment. 

"Would you like to—"

"Are you free—"

Hesitant, slow grins bloom on both your faces.

"Dinner?" is all he manages after a sweet moment of soaking up your soft smile, "If you're available...?"

You make yourself available.

Yaoyorozu almost dies when you call her that night — winded from tearing through your entire wardrobe. You explained you had nothing to wear a-and you needed something nice, and you only have an hour to get ready, because Todoroki — yes, stop screaming, Todoroki — is picking you up at 8pm.

Little bro is nervous. Touya can tell. 

From his spot on the sofa, the white-haired ex-degenerate scoffs. Natsuo is digging around for some cufflinks in Shoto's dresser.

"Seriously, Sho'? A suit?" 

"It's a nice restaurant," his brother says tightly, adjusting the collar of the black button-down, "I booked the upstairs dining room for privacy." 

"Who the hell told you t' do that?" Touya quirks a skeptical brow.

"Father was the one who suggested it."

"...That old dog." 

Natsuo rolls his eyes at the exchange before throwing his hands as he emerges from the closet. "Do you have any links that aren't emblazoned with U.A. High School's crest?"

The ones in Natsuo's hands have his graduation year on them.

Shoto winces.

"Want me to ask dear ol' dog of a dad?" Touya snarks from the corner, his posture becoming less and less upright as he scrolls on his phone.

"Already did," comes the soft voice of Fuyumi; she's smiling, padding into Shoto's room with a velvet box, "He offered up his nicest pair. He also says not to screw it up with Insight. He likes her."

Of course, he likes her. You worked under Endeavor for a brief work-study period during your third year. Shoto remembers hearing grumbled praise over dinner one night about your talent for de-escalation.

"You told him who I was seeing?" Shoto asks incredulously, taking the box and working the cufflinks on. He's starting to feel exasperated.

Fuyumi nods, popping down beside Touya. 

"He asked. I'm not gonna lie to him."

"Did y' tell ma?" Touya rasps, peeking up over his phone to inspect Shoto's outfit. Not half bad, honestly. He looks good in all black. A man after his own heart, "M'sure she's gonna be real excited—"

"Yes," Shoto grumbles, "I called her earlier—"

"Chiba Prep is a really good school, y'know," Natsuo buts in as he tries to find a tie that matches Shoto's outfit. Ultimately, though, the middle brother decides against it and tosses the options over his shoulder, "They're, like, on the leading edge for quirk therapies."

"Hey, nerd? Quiet down. The big kids are gossiping," Touya shirks, turning back to Shoto, "What did mum say?" 

"She wants me to call her after—"

"One, you're gonna call mum the morning after," Touya raises a finger, "Because if you don't get laid, I'll be so fuckin' disap—"

Fuyumi slaps Touya's chest. He lets out a pained yelp at the solid smack.

"Uh, ow," he rubs his sternum. "An' two, take a deep breath. You look like you're gonna shit yourself. Those are my pants and they're expensive."

Shoto lets out a long breath. 

Fuyumi's smile is sweet like honey. "Aw, Sho'! It's gonna go great. You two have known each other for such a long time, and catching up is going to be amazing. Just be yourself! Confident and kind—"

"—Hold the door open for her, and pull her chair out," Natsuo adds as he adjusts Shoto's collar for him, "Car door, too—"

It's Touya's turn. He's dead serious. "—And do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night. I swear to god."

Easier said than done.

You never did go pro.

Those years of hardened battle instincts have lost their edge. You try to remind yourself this is just Shoto, not The Shoto — but you're a little lost in the whole celebrity of it all when he picks you up in a very nice, sporty little car with ENDVRplates. 

You answer the door and he forgets how to breathe.

He has flowers for you. They're blue and blooming and beautiful. 

Fuyumi's contribution. 

You settled then you were going to kiss him at the end of the night.

The restaurant is... nice. Really nice. The sort of nice you could never aspire to experience on your teacher's salary. Even the valet is a concept that has your head spinning. But, Shoto handles it all with cool ease. The entire time, his hand is settled on your lower back. 

It feels like you've been lit on fire.

You're glad Momo was able to create a dress fitting for the occasion. It's sleek and black. Comfortable, too. Not much can be said for your heels on that front, but it's fine. 

Somehow, Shoto managed to book the entire upper floor of this place in all its glimmering glory — it's just the two of you alone in a sea of tables. 

The waiter is pouring you a glass of the chef's suggested pairing of sake.

You thank him, smile, and take a sip as Shoto unbuttons his suit jacket and watches you. 

For a second, you're seventeen again.

Sero and Kirishima were always in cahoots when it came to parties back then — somehow, between the two of them, they always managed to smuggle enough booze onto campus to obliterate any semblance of promised sobriety from even the most stoic members of 1-A. 

You remember one night, after a lot of hounding, you finally gave in and joined a few of your classmates on the back lawn for a few drinks. 

A few beers turned into a cup or two of wine, and then another big gulp of whatever deranged jungle juice concoction Kaminiari managed to cook up. It tasted terrible, but you were too drunk to really care. Shoto was no better. He was nursing his fourth drink of the night — a rarity he was even drinking at all — and seemed completely fine with the way your arms brushed as the two of you sat close in the grass. 

He was always so nervous around you. Now, he just seemed... happy. 

"I can't believe there is only one week left until graduation."

Graduation day was the last time you saw him. 

Until this morning, that is. 

You smile into your drink. 

"What?" you ask when his eyes never leave your face.

His fingers twitch towards his own glass. Shoto blinks, then rolls his jaw. He was caught staring. He clears his throat, looking a bit shy. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" you press playfully, cocking your head to the side.

"You..." he starts, then bawks. You're stunning, and it's making it hard to even think straight. He thought these feelings might have mellowed out over the years but seeing you again has just reignited everything. He feels like a hormonal teenager again, "You look beautiful."

Your expression falters into something lovesick. You chew your lip. "You're not so bad yourself, Todoroki."

He manages a half-smile. "Touya had me worried the suit was a bit much."

The idea of Touya offering him advice on his outfit strikes a chord in your heart. It makes you smile even bigger than before. "Well, you can tell Touya that I like it. A lot."

You rake your eyes up and down him. On purpose.

He notices.

Shoto's face feels hot. 

He tries to shake the bone-deep want that has swept his entire body up in its grip, but it's difficult when every single word out of your mouth reminds him just how in love he was with you back in school. You explain, excitedly, why you chose to teach at Chiba Prefectural Prep and catch him up on where you've been living since graduating. He's pleased to learn you're still in the area, living in the city, and decidedly in love with the commute to the school. 

Shoto's always been a good listener — but you can see how much he's changed when he begins to speak about his career. He seems so much more sure of himself than he was all those years ago. It wasn't that he was... unsure... but, no. He was shy. Quiet.

Now, less so. 

It's adorable. 

Dinner comes and goes with conversation over sushi that is far too good for you to even process. It's easy talking to him. It was easy talking to Shoto back, then, too but... Things are different. You're both different. Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like coming home. 

While you both wait outside for the valet, Shoto shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders without a single word. Suddenly, you're cradled in a warmth that's very Shoto — his cologne clings to the collar and you bury yourself a little deeper into it. 

Shyly, you step closer and steal his hand. It's calloused and warm. He laced his fingers with yours as if practiced. You bite back a grin. You give his hand a little squeeze when you spot the car coming around the corner.

His silence is calming — and he squeezes your hand back. When you look up at him, you realize he's already looking at you. 

His face is close. It's so... intimate. Very. Nearly better than a kiss. 

But, you've wanted to kiss Shoto Todoroki since you were seventeen. 

The valet driver interrupts the moment with a respectful call of Shoto's name and offers the keys with a shake of the hand. With a little bit of hesitancy, Shoto remembers the thing Natsuo said — the car door, too — and moves around the passenger side to open the door for you. 

It's sweet.

Really sweet. 

The car ride back to your apartment is punctuated with easy conversation — you ask him about Bakugo and Midorya, and you're pleased to hear they're both doing well. He asks about Momo, and if you still keep in touch with Mina and Ochaco. He smiles to himself when you admit you did call Momo for help with an outfit. 

"She did a beautiful job," Shoto breathes, a palm moving from the gear shift to brush over the dress' fabric on your thigh.

His hand settles there. 

Your stomach does a flip. 

You chew your lip, swallow down a sudden burst of nerves, and let your hand rest over his. You squeeze it. Shoto tries to focus on the road. His gaze drifts for a moment at a red light, his heterochromatic eyes dancing across your figure. 

Keep it together. 

He isn't seventeen.

He's twenty-five. He's a Professional Hero. One of the Top Ten in all of Japan. He's more than capable of keeping it together in the face of physical touch from the woman he's dreamed about for years. 

...Right?

Green light.

His hand is still on your thigh when he pulls up to your apartment. 

The touch is relinquished in favor of putting the sports car in park. 

It makes your chest ache.

Shoto swallows thickly.

Do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night.

He'll never forgive himself. But, admittedly, he's bad at this. He's not good at reading body language, or even knowing himself enough to realize he looks mildly terrified as you blink up at him in the passenger's seat. His heart is hammering a mile a minute.

What if you don't want to kiss him?

When would he even kiss you? Now? Or at the door?

Why does he feel like he's going to die?

"This was really... Shoto, are you okay?" you ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt; you pause, your brows knitting tightly. 

"What?" he asks, blinking back to the present moment. The look of fear disappears, "Sorry. Yes. I'm fine."

You're working his jacket off your shoulders, gently leaning to fold it neatly in your lap. Your voice dips low, into something playful. "You didn't look fine..."

"I—" Shoto clamps his mouth shut as he leans an elbow on the center console, "Sorry. I suppose I'm just nervous."

"Nervous?" you grin, a little giggle punctuating your words as you wriggle in the red, leather seat, "Why?"

Your expression makes his expression crack. He ducks his head as he huffs out a laugh. You continue to egg him on via expression alone. "I... Stop it."

"Stop what?" you push some more, your back pressed to the door as you face him in the car, "You're the one being weird—"

"I'm not being weird—"

"Then what's wrong, Shoto?" you tease in a sing-song voice.

"I'm nervous because I want to kiss you."

His words are punctuated by a slow look that takes in every inch of your face. Butterfly wings kiss your stomach walls. And your knees. You feel a little tremble in your chest. 

It feels like someone has sucker punched you square in the sternum. Shoto's no better. He isn't entirely sure what the expression on your face means. Is that... good? Are you happy?

Your voice is a little quieter now. You duck your head and fiddle with his suit jacket as you lean back against the seat, a little closer now. 

"You don't need to be."

Shoto's breath catches at that.

So, he makes his move.

His hand comes first — his calloused palm settles nicely against your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as his pointer finger brushes the underside of your jaw. Shoto is slow. Methodical. It's like he's trying to ground himself in the moment. 

Truth be told, he thinks he might be blacking out.

Your eyes flit up his wrist — a dark leather band around his wrist with an expensive watch face, a dark dress shirt with glimmering cufflinks, strong arms and a broad chest, and you can see the dip of his collarbone where the top two buttons of his shirt remain undone. 

He looks so damn handsome with his sharp jaw, pretty eyes, and his trademark white and crimson hair. Even his scar is beautiful. 

The touch pulls you in like he's got his own personal orbit.  

Your elbows are braced along the center console, your eyes flicking across his face as his fingers continue to brush along the soft expanse of your cheek. You wring your fingers together. 

Then, his eyes stick to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your face. 

You never did go pro.

But, Shoto did. 

It shows. 

Because, at this moment, all you can do is nod feebly before you're swept into the sort of kiss people go to war for. It's the sort of kiss that sticks to your ribs, that feels like warm, fresh food. It's the sort of kiss that would drive you to the brink, that would make you nod and agree sure, let's get married and have three kids, let's name one after your father, and paint the house blue like your mother's favorite flower—

His mouth is eager, but not in an overbearing way. It's gentle. Slow. As if he needs to remind himself this is real and not some midnight fiction that leaves him aching and alone. Shoto reminds himself to be tepid, pliable, and easy, which is easier said than done when somewhere deep inside of him there's a seventeen-year-old screaming in victory. 

It's better than anything he could have ever imagined. 

And then you whimper. 

It's a sound tied between bliss and relief and it's muttered against his mouth as you lean in and let your fingers brush the fabric of his dress shirt. The tips of your fingers brush his abdomen and he flexes, the feeling foreign and warm. It warrants his other hand to drift to your face and you break for a breath; he doesn't care that there's lipstick smeared across his mouth. He's kissing you again — this time a little bit more feverish, a little bit more aching. 

You melt against him, this time your hands trembling to grip his wrists.

He needs to slow down.

He is not having sex with you in his father's car.

That's shameless.

He needs to slow down.

He has to, or he'll lose himself in this and he refuses to fuck this up. 

Shoto's breath is ragged when he finally peels himself away, his lip parted and eyes half-lidded. His grip on your face is still so soft, so gentle. It's very him. 

You're glad you didn't do this when you were seventeen.

It would have permanently altered your brain chemistry, you're sure of it. How could you ever kiss someone else again after that? 

He's rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You swallow, and try to level out your breathing. It's hard when he's still so close, when he's so... perfect. 

"I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against your cheek, "Since our last year at Yuei."

A well-kissed smile breaks across your face. You reel back, your nose wrinkling as you shake your head in disbelief. Shoto is smiling. A real smile. The sort that's so rare you can count on one hand the amount of times you've ever seen it in person. 

"Are you serious?"

"Very," he says, chastely pressing another to your other cheek as he leans back.

"Me too," you admit shyly, "Can we... do it again sometime?"

Shoto's eyes widen incrementally. Then, his smile eases back onto his face. 

"Are you free this weekend?"

"I can be," you reply easily with a honeyed look, "And I will be. For you."

"I get off patrol on Saturday around seven," he explains before asking timidly, "We could... do dinner again?"

"Works for me," you breathe as you move for the handle of the car door, "After all, I never went Pro. Weekends are free."

Shoto scoffs. 

Then, as you open the door and swing a leg out:

"Oh, and tell Touya I thought the suit sexy."

Shoto's laugh is dry. You leave his jacket on the seat and scurry into your apartment with a lovesick wave. He swears he sees the silhouette of a familiar ponytail greet you at the door, but he doesn't dwell on it. He waits until you're inside and the lights to the front door are shut off.

Then it hits him. He has another date with you this weekend. 

Not so seventeen anymore, Shoto Todoroki. 

[hellishfig]

for the amount of time i spend thinking about erika ishii, i do not post about them NEARLY enough

everything i've ever seen them in, they have been fully dialed in. they understand the genre, they understand the character they're playing, and they NEVER. FUCKING. MISS

my current dnd character is actually based on multiple characters of erika's that i enjoy. my character is a witch (like ame of worlds beyond number fame [thank you to the witch class playtest]) but she is also a brewer who grows weed and shrooms, and deals them, and does them (and her personality is very much modeled off of danielle barkstock in dimension 20's the seven)

i feel that many of my favorite moments from erika are often focused on other characters. but many of those character moments would not have been possible without erika's incredible roleplay and sense for storytelling

and when the moment IS focused on erika's character? spellbinding. groundbreaking. from ame talking to orima in the overgrown shrine to danielle getting a nat 20 at the masquerade ball, i always fall into the scene and feel it so deeply due to erika's skill and poise and commitment to the story being told

tldr i think erika ishii is incredibly talented and wonderful

[denim-wizard]

My Little Pirates, part 2 // (( part 1 ))

Second Verse Same As The First. You will view my equines.

We started with the monster trio, so now introducing the navigator Citrine Compass, Tall Tale the sharpshooter, and the doctor Tony Tony Chopper Citrine Compass (aka Nami) is an incredible navigator, with a special talent in cartography. Her skills for predicting the weather are downright uncanny, a rarity even among pegasi. She's light on her hooves, quick as a flash, and is going to steal your wallet as we speak. Tall Tale (aka Usopp) the earth pony sharpshooter and master storyteller. His mark is meant to represent the more magical aspect of this skill, as his stories are so good, sometimes they just seem to come true! In reality, he does truly have a form of instinctual future sight, and one that manifests in this odd way. (think... pinkie sense.) His heritage lets him get in tune with nature much easier, and lets his skills as a sniper overlap perfectly with his skills as as a botanist. Chopper the reindeer is an odd case indeed. A young member of one of the rarer species found in the world, Chopper is an unfortunate case of a reindeer that never developed magic. Unable to levitate and fly like the rest of his herd, he was simply left behind-- but was fortunately rescued by a kindly doctor. His magic never developed, but he makes the most of it regardless. He's an incredible doctor, and his work in scientific fields across the board has been exceptional. He may paint on a cutiemark to feel more like his friends, but these days, Chopper is more than proud of who he is, and the reindeer he's become.

(Note: I had no idea reindeer existed in mlp! apparently there's a holiday special. The more you know.)

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You're at Hellfire Club with the worst period pains, the pains have been growing steadily worse all day. Eddie notices and does what he can to help you feel better.

Purely self indulgent because I've had bad pains for the last few days and this was highly therapeutic to write 💞💞

Warnings; none, just fluffy, sweet Eddie 🥺 💞

My requests are open 💞

💌🖤

You looked forward to Hellfire every week. Not okay because it was run by your boyfriend Eddie and it was the first Hellfire since all the shit from Spring Break.

In that time you and Eddie had grown really close and began dating, bonded together by being Upside Down survivors (for Eddie it was a close call) and already friends due to your involvement in Hellfire Club.

Now that Hellfire Club was back in session, Steve had generously offered to play host and Eddie excitedly spent a full week planning the campaign.

"I can't wait to show you what I have planned sweetheart" It's nice to see him so hyped up and you were looking forward to the campaign as much as he was.

Unfortunately, the morning of the campaign you woke up with a major headache, the kind of headache that hurt your eyes, bright lights were the devil and made your head pound even more. You groan at the pain in your stomach and ache that grows steadily worse and makes it impossible to go back to sleep.

Shit, you should have realised that your period was due today, for the last few days you had felt nauseated and that slow build-up of pain in your stomach signalled they were coming.

Despite feeling like shit you power through the day, go to work at Family Video, Eddie joins you on your break which coincides with his break at the auto repair shop he has started working in.

He's a godsend because if you had to listen to one more bratty kid or know it all cinephile you're sure your head might explode.

"You okay princess? You're quieter than usual" Eddie asks and you nod, cuddle into his arms and let the smell of cigarettes and cologne - Eddie's scent, calm you down. He soothingly rubs his hand up and down your back, and presses light kisses into your hair.

"Mmm, just tired. Looking forward to tonight though" the concerned look on Eddie's face turns into unbridled excitement as he teases and hints about the new campaign.

If Eddie knew how bad you were feeling then he might actually cancel tonight and you weren't having that. Hellfire had been anticipating this and Eddie was in his element, so you would just grin and bear it.

💌

Everything was set up and ready to go at Steve's, you were feeling worse than you were earlier. The headache from this morning was back with a vengeance and the cramps were in full swing, you ignore them as best as you can as Eddie begins the D&D session.

Just watching him in his element as DM is incredible, he's so talented at storytelling and has all the participants on the edge of their seats. Even Steve who had no interest in the game was hung on Eddie's every word.

This session was a long one and the cheers and shouts around you were making your headache even worse, it was hard to concentrate on the campaign even though you desperately wanted to.

You're so wrapped up in hiding your pain and trying to cling onto what's happening in the adventure that you don't notice Eddie's eyes stray to you on occasion, worry evident in his big brown eyes.

He's not stupid. He knows when something is wrong with his princess, you're not very talkative and have been clingy today, wanting more cuddles than usual (not that Eddie is complaining about that)

It's all telltale signs that you're upset or coming down with something. Eddie is sure he's done nothing to upset you (one tearful look or pout from you was Eddie's weakness) so it must be the latter option.

He's on the edge of ending the campaign early just so he can take you home and help you feel better, his worry helped by the fact that you keep trying to hide the fact that you're in pain. One hand is gripping the table and he sees the flash of agony on your features.

"The merry band of adventurers found themselves in a cave of wonder. But something evil was with them in this cave, ready to strike at the first opportunity" Eddie's voice deepens as he reaches the finale.

"Will the Wise was the first to sense the change in the air but before he could alert the others a screeching sound filled the cave... and that is the end of the campaign this week" Predictably he's met with the cries of the others.

"That's bullshit dude, utter bullshit" Dustin snaps and he shrugs. "More to look forward to next week Henderson" he ruffles Dustin's hair who grumbles under his breath but nods mulishly.

Eddie makes his way over to you and you give him a small smile, "That wasn't the end of the campaign Eddie" you sigh clearly seeing through his ruse.

"My girl is sick, don't think I haven't noticed you trying to pretend you're fine'' you open your mouth to argue but he's having none of it, "Yeah you are princess and I know that's not true. We're going home and you are going to rest" The fight goes out of you and you agree.

"Okay, I still feel bad about the campaign ending early" he waves off your concern. He cut it down by like five minutes tops and he's not having you feeling guilty about it.

"What's got you feeling so bad baby?" he narrowed his eyes trying to figure out if it was a cold or a stomach bug, was it your time of the month already? He counts the days and frowns when you confirm that it is.

"Bad cramps, headache" you mutter sleepily and he groans, he hates seeing you in pain, and knows your periods have been pretty bad for the last few months.

Luckily Eddie has supplies in his trailer for these occasions. sanitary products, a heated pad, painkillers, chocolate and your favourite movie. Everything to help make you feel better. He guides you to his van and vows to make you feel better.

❤️

It isn't even that long later that you're settled up in Eddie's bed with a heat pad on your stomach, he's made sure you took some pain meds and they've began to take effect.

Eddie's arms wrap around you and you nuzzle into his, his hands soothingly rubbing your stomach, between that at the pain meds you're feeling much better.

Just being in Eddie's arms, the cool metal of his rings was lovely and the light way he massaged your stomach was bliss.

He leaves only for a little while to make mac and cheese and even though you're not really hungry you eat it all and share your favourite chocolate with Eddie for afters.

The best thing about the night is when Eddie picks up his guitar and begins to play your favourite song, even though it's not heavy metal he still spent the time learning how to play it for you.

It begins to lull you to sleep and just as you're almost in a slumber Eddie presses gentle kisses to your hair.

"Sleep well my princess"

💞🖤💌

[connorsnothereeither]

Fable SMP has been an experience that has genuinely changed my life, in ways. I know I only came into it during the final season, but I was around before then too, and I adore this series, or project, or whatever you want to call it, from so many angles. First as a friend, and a fan, and finally now a collaborator, and a creator. I have gotten to work with some of my best friends, and made so many more in the process. It has genuinely been an honour and a privilege to work with so many amazing, talented, kind and creative people over my time in this space. I have learned skills and passions that I never knew I would, and it dragged me out of a creative rut I had been stuck in for a very long time.

I often joke around and talk about it as “the silly little minecraft story” and it is, to an extent, but it’s also so much more than that. It’s a story. Our story, that we got to tell, and that effected us and so many people in so many ways. One that had made me laugh and cry and that I have poured my heart and soul into. And now from the end I can look back and see how beautiful and elaborate and funny and heartbreaking this story is. I can see the creativity and the passion that everyone involved put into making it what it is. And from the end it is so… wonderful. It is something I am so incredibly proud of. I am proud to be a part of it, despite its ups and downs, and I so proud of the people who were involved. Who have made so much. I could not ask to have told this story with a better group of people, and I could not have asked for a better story to be invited into.

It has been a story, and an experience, and friendships that I am genuinely going to cherish.

It’s strange to consider this a goodbye to Fable SMP. Because in my mind it’s not, really. Fable isn’t gone. It’s not going anywhere. It’s still here. The story is there to be rewatched again and again, as many times as we want. I’m certainly not done stewing in this world and retelling it personally (just look at how much is left of Brink-) and I don’t think the fandom is either. Hell, I don’t think a lot of the cast are ready to leave it behind entirely. We’re still around. Fable is still around. We just get to view it in a different light. We get to look back on it, and immerse ourselves again, and see all that we missed the first time in the rush of flipping through the chapters.

So this is not a goodbye to Fable. But it is a thank you. A thank you to the cast, who made such an amazing story, made such an amazing environment to create in, and who gave me so many amazing opportunities. And it is a thank you, so so much, to the community, who got as attached to our characters as we did; played along with our silly games and codes; who encouraged me as I delved into this new way of storytelling for the first time; and who helped make the entire series what it was.

Thank you, truly.

- Connor

[surely-sims]

SMALL SIMBLR SATURDAY SHOUTOUTS !!

AKA an excuse for me to yell about how much I love these incredible free CC creators and throw flowers at them.

@lumenniveus - LxN CC 🌹

LxN makes some of the most interesting, whimsical, and creative CC that i think the community at large is so lacking. Every time I load up his CC In my game I find myself smiling and laughing at all the love and little jokes he includes. Please Please Check out his stuff if you haven't already. I think he might be the most tragically slept on BB creators.

▶ Check out LxN Here!

@hamsterbellbelle 🌸

HamsterBelle is one of the most brilliant creators I've come across in this community. Not only is she crazy smart and makes some of the coolest cyberpunk CC I've ever seen, she is also a mind blowing builder and takes the time to write out some incredibly helpful tutorials. I've learned so much from her whether she knows or not haha. 🐹💖

▶ Check out HamsterBellBelle here!

@nolan-sims 🌼

Not only is Nolan a goddamn pillar of this community for many years but she's also an incredible, sweet, and wonderfully talented creator and friend. Her CC is always so well thought through, completely original, and lovingly detailed. We definitely don't deserve her. 😭💗

▶ Check out Nolan here!

BONUS ROUND: 💐

All these creators are amazing and I would carve their names into the stars but ya'll would shoot me if this post kept going and going down your dash that long.

⭐ @gilded-ghosts Amazing amazing vintage CC, thoughtful, beautiful original meshes and textures. ( X ) ⭐ @myshunosun Myshuno deserves all the hype and praise her CC gets. She's an absolutely lovely human and has saved my ass once or twice too. ( X ) ⭐ @dallasgirl79 DallasGirl makes the best heels your sims will ever wear. Hard stop. I will not be taking questions at this time. ( X ) ⭐ @doctorsimcraft A dear friend, an amazing writer, builder and maker of delightful vintage Build/Buy CC too. ( X ) ⭐ @vyxated HOLY FUCK. Vxyated is crazy intelligent. Their work with CAS rooms and now the new Rig Plus Helper is mind blowing. ( X ) ⭐ @adjusted-karma ( X ), @simmireen ( X ), @herecirm-warcry ( X ), @rebouks ( X ), @madebycoffee ( X ) Beautiful people, beautiful poses. Also Ireen runs @ts4-poses which is a goddamn godsend to this community. ⭐ @twentiethcenturysims ( X ), @chere-indolente ( X ) Fantastic Historical CC from two very good eggs. ⭐ @jellymoo ( X ), @laeska ( X ), @xldkx-cc ( X ) Three lovely and fantastically talented CAS creators that put a ton of thought and effort in going the extra mile with their CC and it absolutely shows. ⭐ @awingedllama Anna is smart, skilled, and deserves all the flowers she's gotten this year. We really do love to see it. ( X ) ⭐ @kamiiri Some of the best hairs that have ever graced my game. I am actually obsessed. ( X )

If I missed anyone I apologize, but please know every single free CC creator makes my heart grow a little bigger every day. 💖 And to my fellow Creators, Storytellers, Simmers - Go make weird shit, make something that makes you laugh, make something that brings you joy. Cause y'know what? That joy bleeds into your work and we can all see it and feel it. That joy is infectious and special and THAT is what makes this community worth being a part of.

xo, Anne 🦐

[balkanradfem]

So, in the light of sharing lesbian experiences, I thought I'd try sharing a story that makes me wary of dating; it ends in hubris, so be warned. It might make it more clear why I'm not trying to date the hot woman in my building! Click read more for a long sad lesbian story.

Years ago, I had a crush on a woman I met on tumblr. I started talking to her, and I told her honestly that I like her, and asked her if she was into women. She said yes! We started chatting and communicating daily, and after a bit we switched over to sending emails, so we could write long stories to each other. She was incredibly smart, talented, creative, she was a good storyteller, she knew so much about plants and animals, she had a garden, a dog, she lived in a country close to mine, so I could logically, at one point, sit on a train and meet her.

After we talked excitedly for a while, she told me she has a crush on me too. I was so happy. The unreachable scenario, your crush likes you back. I was living it, I was beside myself. I was dreaming of being in a relationship with her and how that would look like, and she was sending me flirty little messages in the emails. We kept talking, and slightly flirting with each other in our emails, and this went on for months. She would tell me about her life, experiences, past relationships, her art and books she wrote. I was into it all, I read anything she wrote or drew, I offered support whenever she was having a rough time or was bothered by something. I noticed at this point that if I send her my stuff, she doesn't really comment on it, but I felt okay about it, since I already had enough confidence, and wasn't looking to get praise.

During this time, I grew attached to her, I started to really love her. She was sweet and warm and so interesting to me. She knew a lot about stuff I didn't! Her stories and art were admirable and I remember fondly going trough it over and over. I felt a little bit like a child next to her, since she was 10 years older, and smarter, and I kept trying to prove that I too, am an adult, who knows stuff, and is smart. At one point we decided to have a video call, and I was so nervous, I had to go be outside to connect to a wifi, and I kept thinking what if it's awkward, what if we don't know what to say? I decided to tackle that issue by going trough a comic she drew and then using the call to give her tons of feedback, praise and opinions on it, it was a long comic so I was able to talk about it for an hour! She was happy to discuss it and our conversation went lightly and we had fun. I asked her at the end if she had a good time, and she said – yes, we talked about me the entire time! And I hadn't even realized that, until she said it. I think I felt a bit weird about it afterwards, because I do tend to fixate on people I like a lot, but ultimately, you know, we could talk about other things next time.

This is where things started feeling weird. We were talking for about 6 months then, and she was starting to disappear without notice. I wouldn't get my emails answered in a while, and every time I grew anxious and upset, wondering if I did something wrong, or she just got busy. At first I just blamed myself for, you know, being mentally ill, having abandonment issues, worrying too much. But I felt more anxious every time she'd disappear. I would sometimes have to go away too, for a few days, but I would always warn her, and let her know when I'd be away, and when I'd come back. She'd never say anything. So next time she disappeared on me, I asked her to please just let me know when she's leaving, because I easily get worried and miss her, and I do have some issues that make me feel abandoned. She said it was difficult for her to read this, because it makes her look inconsiderate in comparison to me, but she'll of course, say something next time.

She didn't. She kept both disappearing, and being too busy to respond to me. And even though we started talking with the idea of being in a relationship, it was never later discussed or prompted again, she only would add one flirty sentence to each email, so I'd know she's still interested. But now she was disappearing, or ignoring me, or  - just lost interest. I had to slowly realize that we were not, in fact, going to date. Because if she wanted to be in a relationship, surely by now it would be at least discussed or mentioned, and we would want to spend more time together, find out more about each other. And instead she was responding to me less, growing away from me, but still wrote in flirty lines. I was heartbroken, but also found it too difficult to keep pretending that it's going to happen, when it clearly was not, the contrast of what she was saying, and what was happening, was too much for me.

It took me a hot minute to gather my courage, and then I wrote to her that her disappearances are heavy on my mental health, and in order for me to feel normal about it, it's best if we continue as just good friends, and then I won't have to be stressed about why she's not responding to me. And she responded to that one instantly, saying no, we're going to date, in fact we can be dating now, she wants to. But this was instead, even more confusing to me, because why now? We didn't mention it for months, there was no progression towards it, she's organically responding to me less and less, obviously losing interest in talking regularly, she didn't care to warn me of her disappearances to ease my worry and anxiety over losing her, so how could she actually want to date? I sent her an email apologizing, calling myself an idiot, offering to talk her trough my mental process of making this decision, blamed it all on myself and my mental illness, but I couldn't bring myself back in the mindset of just, waiting for her messages, worrying if she was losing interest in me, worrying if I did something wrong and she didn't want to be with me anymore. It was mortifying to me.

I sent her further two emails apologizing and asking if she was okay, now worried if I hurt her with my giving up on romance, if she's maybe upset with me. I said sorry so many times and asked her to please share with me how this has affected her.

She never replied to any. She never talked to me again.

And I didn't understand, for a long time, what had happened there. Nothing made sense to me, in one second she was asking for a relationship, and then in the next moment she was done with me forever. I waited for a reply for such a long time, before I finally accepted that it's not coming, she wasn't... she wasn't interested in even being friends with me.

This was baffling, because I believed we had, in fact, created a good friendship over those 6 months! We learned about each other's lives, interests, pasts, we discussed ideas and art and feminism and capitalism, we told each other stories, we shared our struggles and days, we had our jokes and references, I had an entire library of her works and art in my head at this point and cared for her deeply. I thought we had a bond, and regardless of it being a friendship or a romance, we cared for each other. And I could see we weren't going to progress to a relationship, because she lost interest, or at least the desire to talk to me regularly, and I accepted it, so what was wrong?

Well, it would take me months more of thinking it trough and catching little hints and signs of things that were wrong. During our conversation, since I hoped that we would date, I would regularly try to prop her up and make her feel good about herself; I always wanted her to feel special and amazing, and would often shower her in praise and admiration. I wanted her to know that being with me would mean constant support and appreciation of everything good about her, and she'd get endless warmth and adoration, because this is what I thought relationships should be like, right, and I wanted her to know that's what I wanted for us. This sentiment was not returned to me in kind, but I didn't mind since I could already feel good about myself. She also didn't react if I sent her some of my work, but I would react to her stuff for ages, because I knew how good it is to get feedback on your own creation, anyone would enjoy that. I realized belatedly, that when she'd ask for support, I'd drop everything to reassure her and comfort her, and be mad at her behalf, while when I asked for support, she'd kinda side with me but still talk about herself. But all of these things were so subtle and tiny to me, I couldn't even see them over the excitement of 'my crush likes me back'.

I wondered, if she wasn't into me at all, then why didn't she just turn me down at the start, or somewhere down the line, she could tell me if she wasn't actually interested in dating me. Because if she seriously did want to date me, then she could have tried being friends with me, speak with me more consistently, show me that she was serious and that she does want to talk to me, and then try for a relationship later; it was unlikely that I would say no, I was filled with adoration for her. So she didn't want a relationship, and she didn't want a friendship, so why didn't she just say no to me?

Because she wanted the attention. She liked being adored and having someone pursue her so passionately. And the rest... didn't really matter to her. She would have only talked to me, and flirted with me, to have me believe we were going to date, and the second I didn't believe it, and I wouldn't pursue her in that way.. I was as good as dead to her. I was just a resource in there. She didn't care when I was starting to get hurt by being ignored by her, and she didn't care when I specifically said to her that I was struggling with mental health because she was trying to have me believe in something I saw wasn't true. She still tried to push me back into pursuing her after I gave up because of pain. She wanted the attention even when it was hurting me to give it.

I also tried to put myself in her shoes, and see how I would react in her place. I imagined if I had flirted with someone, and then ignored them for a while, and they then asked to be just friends. I don't think I would have even attempted to persuade them to go back to how they were before, because I would be horrified that I set this person up with false expectations, and then caused them pain by failing them. I would be relieved that they weren't mad at me for leading them on, and would feel awful for leading them on at all. But I also wouldn't even bring myself into this situation; if I had feelings for someone, and then realized they're fading away, but this person was still hopeful, or anxious, I'd have to set them straight and tell them what's up, so they could get a chance to move on. Saying 'no I actually want to date, lets go back to that' when I'm ready to drop them in an instant would be unthinkable to me.

What happened was so much worse than being rejected, or turned down. I was at this point wishing so badly that I had just been rejected. I would have moved on from that in a day or two. I had created a whole bond with a person who could not have cared less, and who dropped me the second I did something they didn't like. If I had known that's the reality of it, I would have never wanted to be friends, or anything else. And I also had no way of knowing, it was a shock when things turned out this badly.

I left that experience with some new conclusions. One was that I'll never try to date someone who makes me feel like a child. When I would feel dumb or childish next to her, she would poke fun at it and tease me about it, when I would genuinely feel not taken seriously, and I hated every minute of it, I hated having to prove that I'm an equal to someone. I also would no longer try to pursue anyone with so much love and attention. I might have been wrong to be so honest and direct with my intentions and my feelings. I set myself up for exploitation. It wasn't the first time I was exploited in that way either, this was just one of the worst ones.

After this experience, for a while I stopped liking people in general. Considering even being friends with someone, filled me with anxiety and exhaustion. I fell depressed and had thoughts about never talking to anyone again. I just didn't want to be put trough this again, and it took time for me to believe that a person can be that selfish and cruel, and hide it for so long, I didn't believe this could happen. I guess it hit me worse than it would have because I have abandonment issues, and this falls heavy on a heart of a person who's been abandoned before.

But anyway, I am feeling better now, and I'm very careful about having any kind of ideas about dating! I'm not interested in anyone who gives even the tiniest hint of mixed signals, or wanting to play with my heart, or promise anything unlikely or far down the line. If someone says they like me I won't even believe them! But, I'm keeping my honesty, and I won't set anyone up for this kind of pain. If I don't intend to be with someone, they'll know right away :).

[ennn]

Initial Agatha All Along Ep 7 Meta Thoughts + Reactions

This ep was a work of art and my brain is buzzing while my heart is in awe.

YELLING at how the show is just leaning into the gay now that we're in the endgame. This is the current star TV show product of Disney Marvel and I am stunned and delighted. Two of this show's lead characters flat out saying they're not straight / queer.

I can only hope this spills over to more open marketing and interviews. Yes, I'm still shook about it and will be for the time being.

"I'm your mom's ex [forever pause] best friend." Congratulations Wanda-Agatha shippers, I'm happy for you. Also Agatha's "oooh" at possible epic Maximoff drama? Nice.

We've hit Doctor Who levels of time shenanigans! And timey whimey storytelling is a sure-fire way to hit the feels. There's something so powerful and tragic about Fate.

I keep drawing parallels about how the show feels like such a spiritual successor to DW with the Agatha-Billy team up, and the incredible layers (and theatrics and cunning and drama) with Agatha. Now we're directly playing with time and it's glorious!

As much as Billy is giving Agatha a hard time now, it's probably a good thing and healthy this conflict is in the open. Billy's expressing his hurt and anger and making it super clear he doesn't trust Agatha – which of course, structurally means he will of course have to trust her by the end of this story.

Them snarking at each other attempting the trial? I enjoy these bitchy dumbasses.

What an incredible writing feat in how they did the time skips, with the focus centered on Lilia so we can experience her tragic journey. I can't wait to hear more about how Schaeffer and the writers plotted this out. A new masterclass in executing a series reveal, with stunning cinematography to match. (the colours! the framing!) This episode embodies how it's really the craft and execution that delivers, less of the idea or the plot point.

Patti LuPwn effortlessly grounding this episode with her performance. I'm glad a wider audience gets to experience this Broadway legend's talent. My only regret is we never got more of her singing.

Agatha's back in her active leader-y role in driving the trial to succeed (and of course saving her own skin): tackling Lilia so she doesn't get impaled, reminding them to hurry up, and ultimately saving them crucial seconds by putting down the Death card.

Congratulations to Agatha officially joining the monsterfucker club. The way everyone looked to her (look, everyone saw Rio's dumb scar confession) was gold.

Vindication for my Death's missing heart theory -- although now it looks like the wound is more likely self-inflicted? I wonder exactly when and how.

Vindication for my perception of Rio as not a liar (as I do love the contrast with Agatha's duplicitous nature and tendency to run). She literally told everyone she's The Green Witch. In a scary voice no less.

Excited to see how they tackle Rio being the original Green Witch. Death being a witch is certainly a new take? And I'm still not sure how human or not this makes Rio, which makes the last two eps rather unpredictable. Yes, she's got a skull face and can do weird shit with her body. But the Scarlet Witch was able to pull off some inhuman things in MoM.

[matchalovertrait]

Me??????

Thank you to everyone who tagged me for the simblr appreciation 💗 That was @bouncytrait, @elderwisp, @catsinmugs, @bloomingkyras, @woohoojuicesimoleons2,

@spotlessssmiind, and @smulie :)

I am so happy you thought of me and I love your blogs too!!

I’d like to tag everyone, but I can’t do that. However, I can acknowledge all of you whose posts I come across every day! I make sure to hit the like button to let you know that there’s someone here waiting for your next post. If I haven’t been liking recent posts, it’s because I’m reading your story from the beginning. I’m an awfully slow reader, so my apologies. I like to take my time and not rush through the stories to ensure I understand everything and take in all the small details.

Also, I know it can be easy to become disillusioned on here but trust me, there are a lot of incredible people. I see them every day on my dash.

I’ll mention some of my friends here who inspire me. Um, it's kinda long:

@changingplumbob: I don’t know how she balances so many projects at once and does it all with love! Each one of her characters is unique and steals the spotlight. When it comes to her posts, I'm either philosophizing or laughing. It's also admirable how much research she puts into the stories she writes. You can definitely tell!

@deardiaryts4: I love people who do extra things for their sims just like me LOL. She doesn’t have to make a music video or album cover CC. Nor does she have to create actual code for us to solve a mystery, but she does it anyway because she's passionate! She gives it 110% every time with her intriguing story and gameplay.

@ruthplaysthesims goes DEEEEPP into the lore! Blink and you'll miss it. She also has an impressive cast of characters. There are many mysteries in her stories that I am itching to have the answers to. I need to see/know!!!

@abbysimsfun OMG I absolutely love her style of writing, which became a recent influence over my own. She's also a fellow fan and user of Chekhov's guns (I know the name of that literary device now because of her hehehe. No, no actual guns here!). I am captivated by the storytelling!

@dreamyyesenia is so incredibly sweet! She also takes her sims' personalities and interests very seriously and creates the perfect homes/wardrobes for them. She's a master at it and I'm taking notes.

@authorspirit: Her builds are absolutely fantastic. Joy is a smart cookie and she does everything with precision. I really like the chic and regal aesthetic in her posts too. Quite demure

@sharona-sims is my slice-of-life queen!!!! She seems apologetic for the "slow pace" of her gameplay, but I don't mind it one bit. I could keep up with Lily and Michael for the rest of my life, idc, I love them.

@teadreamsims is immensely creative and a great storyteller. I always forget they play on console. That just shows how important imagination is. The gameplay with Fern and the rotational gameplay with the townies happened ages ago but they live in my head rentfree.

@aurorangen: Details details details!!!!! I eat it all up and Rory always gives us extra insight and behind-the-scenes stuff. She's talented in both writing and telling her stories through pictures. And her builds are insane.

@cakepoppresent: Nahhhhh cuz the drama and the wholesomeness, omg. I like how we explore different groups of characters at a time and it never seems like too much. And her videos are everything.

@miralure is on hiatus sadly :( But she definitely left her mark, I never forget her. When I came back to Simblr, I had no idea a lot of people saw commenting as an "embarrassing" thing? She was very welcoming and her mindset is the one I've been following ever since. Because of her, I'm often all up in your guys's comments like nothing lmao. Anyway, her lookbooks were perfection as well as her male sims. Amazing.

@windslar also seems to be on hiatus :( I admire the way she composes her dialogue posts through photos and I've been trying to do it as well as she does. The facial expressions, the angles, etc! It's cinematic.

@cinamun: I don't even have to explain, but I will anyway. The drama, the real-life-issues, the gifs, the heartfelt moments, the plot twists, the in-depth characters, the lore, the background, the wardrobes. Phenomenal work!

[geotjwrs]

Can I request a platonic Jenna x male reader where r is a writer and like one of his screenplays like gets picked up and Jenna stars in it and they both realise each other are incvled in project and just a sweet look into their friendship?

invisible string

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

Y/N had always dreamt of becoming a screenwriter. From the days spent scribbling stories in his worn-out notebooks to the nights staying up late typing away on his laptop, he poured his heart and soul into every word. It was his passion, his escape, and now, finally, it seemed to be paying off. One of his screenplays had been picked up by a major production company. The excitement was overwhelming, but nothing prepared him for the shock of finding out who would be starring in his film: Jenna Ortega.

Jenna and Y/N had met a few years back at a film festival. They had hit it off immediately, bonding over their mutual love for cinema and storytelling. Despite their busy schedules, they had kept in touch, exchanging messages and occasionally catching up over coffee whenever they found themselves in the same city. Their friendship was a comforting constant in Y/N's ever-changing life.

When Y/N received the news, he couldn't believe his luck. He was both thrilled and nervous about the project, especially with Jenna being involved. He knew how talented she was, and having her bring his words to life was an incredible honor.

The first day on set was a whirlwind of activity. Crew members buzzed around, setting up equipment, adjusting lighting, and preparing for the day's shoot. Y/N arrived early, wanting to soak in every moment of this experience. As he walked onto the set, he spotted Jenna talking to the director. She looked radiant, her enthusiasm contagious as she animatedly discussed her character.

"Y/N!" Jenna called out, her face lighting up with a bright smile as she saw him.

"Jenna!" Y/N replied, grinning as he walked over to her.

They hugged tightly, both of them laughing with excitement. "I can't believe you're here!" Jenna exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "When they told me about the project, I had no idea it was your screenplay. This is amazing!"

"I know, right? It's like a dream come true," Y/N said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't wait to see you bring the character to life."

"Well, I promise to do your words justice," Jenna said, her tone sincere. "Your script is incredible, Y/N. It's one of the best I've read in a long time."

"Thank you, Jenna. That means a lot coming from you," Y/N replied, feeling a warm sense of pride.

As the days turned into weeks, Y/N spent a lot of time on set, observing and learning. He was amazed at how Jenna immersed herself in her role, bringing depth and nuance to the character he had created. They often found themselves discussing scenes, bouncing ideas off each other, and refining the dialogue.

Their friendship deepened during this time, built on mutual respect and admiration. They shared countless moments of laughter, inside jokes, and even some late-night brainstorming sessions when inspiration struck. Jenna's dedication and talent inspired Y/N, and he felt grateful to have her as both a friend and a collaborator.

One evening, after a long day of shooting, Y/N and Jenna found themselves sitting on the steps of her trailer, sipping coffee and enjoying the cool breeze. The set was quiet, most of the crew having left for the day.

"You know," Jenna said, breaking the comfortable silence, "I'm really proud of you, Y/N. You've come a long way since we first met."

Y/N smiled, looking down at his coffee cup. "Thanks, Jenna. I couldn't have done it without your support."

Jenna nudged him playfully. "Don't sell yourself short. You've got talent, and you work hard. You deserve all the success that's coming your way."

"Well, it helps to have amazing friends like you," Y/N said, meeting her gaze.

They sat there for a while, enjoying each other's company and the sense of accomplishment that came with seeing their hard work come to fruition.

As the filming progressed, Y/N and Jenna continued to support each other, both on and off set. They celebrated the small victories, like nailing a difficult scene or receiving positive feedback from the director. They also leaned on each other during the tough times, offering encouragement and reassurance.

One particularly challenging day, when everything seemed to be going wrong, Jenna found Y/N sitting alone in a quiet corner of the set, looking stressed.

"Hey," she said softly, sitting down next to him. "You okay?"

Y/N sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Just feeling overwhelmed, I guess. It's a lot of pressure."

Jenna put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know it's tough, but you're doing an amazing job. Remember why you started this journey. Your passion and talent brought you here, and you've got a whole team behind you."

Y/N looked at her, feeling a surge of gratitude. "Thanks, Jenna. I needed that."

"Anytime," she replied with a warm smile. "We're in this together, remember?"

As the final days of shooting approached, there was a bittersweet feeling in the air. The cast and crew had become like a family, and it was hard to believe that their time together was coming to an end. On the last day of filming, emotions ran high as they wrapped up the final scene.

After the director called "Cut!" for the last time, there was a moment of silence before the set erupted into cheers and applause. Y/N felt a mix of relief, pride, and sadness as he looked around at the people who had brought his vision to life.

Jenna made her way over to him, her eyes shining with tears. "We did it," she said, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Yeah, we did," Y/N replied, his voice choked with emotion.

As they stood there, surrounded by their friends and colleagues, Y/N realized how much this experience had meant to him. Not just because of the success of his screenplay, but because of the incredible journey he had shared with Jenna. Their friendship had been a source of strength and inspiration, and he knew it would continue to be, no matter where their careers took them next.

In the weeks that followed, Y/N and Jenna kept in touch, their bond stronger than ever. They celebrated the film's success together, attending premieres and interviews, always supporting each other. Despite their busy schedules, they made time for their friendship, knowing how important it was.

One evening, as they sat on a rooftop terrace, looking out over the city lights, Jenna turned to Y/N with a thoughtful expression. "You know, this is just the beginning for you. I can't wait to see what you come up with next."

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of excitement and possibility. "And I can't wait to see you in your next role. You're going to keep amazing audiences, Jenna."

They clinked their glasses, toasting to the future and to their enduring friendship. As they sat there, talking and laughing, he would always have Jenna by his side.

And that, he realized, was the greatest gift of all.

[monkey-wrench-series]

Between you, Goosworx, and Tracy Butler, my eyes are blessed anytime you guys answer anything.

Indie animation is so cool. :)

I've known Goose for a good 8 years and they have incredible imagination and a very unique sense of storytelling and humor, they're also a great friend to boot. love'm! Only got to talking to Tracy and the lackadaisy crew relatively recently, though I've known of Lackadaisy since the early dA days seeing pages be posted there every so often and seeing it come to life in animated form has been an absolute treat. They're an absolute monolith of creation, exceptionally talented, professional and pretty groovy. Also their support for the indie animation community is staggering. I don't know many other indie shows, if at all any others, that go out of their way to podcast with other indie creators to try to give them a leg up. Much respect!

[kaspavanlortsyal]

Let It Be Enough - 1 Year Anniversary

"You will always be enough."

This beautiful art was commissioned from the incredibly talented Elle Noir (twitter/instagram/deviantart)! Thank you, Elle, for bringing this beautiful moment in their story to life.

This time last year, I posted the first chapter of Let It Be Enough on AO3. The butterfly effect of my simple desire to share my silly little story is unbelievable. In one year it garnered over 50k hits on AO3, and that isn't even the coolest part. I made lifelong friends, found a community of wonderful writers, and fell in love. I reflect upon 2023 and bear witness to the power of storytelling. I never thought that I'd still be writing fanfiction about Petra and Miles a year later in the form of my Fairytale AU, The Memory of Stars, and yet here I am.

The world of Avatar is magnificent. It gives me hope that the highest grossing movie of all time is an allegory about colonialism. It emphasizes the importance and beauty of our connection to the Earth (or in the case of the Na’vi, Pandora), and condemns corporate greed. I sincerely love Avatar, not just because of the nostalgia, but because of how bold it is in its storytelling.

Stories are the backbone of society. For all of human history, we have told each other stories. Stories shape our worldview and helps us convey emotions and ideas. Every person finds their own truth in the shape of words.

James Cameron is a fantastic storyteller. However, he is also a white man, and some stories are not his to tell. Many aspects of the Na’vi are drawn from real world indigenous cultures. I understand that he consulted various groups in his development of the Na’vi, but if you enjoy Avatar, I strongly encourage you to seek out own voices stories as well. Our world is troubled and complicated, but I truly believe that it gets better each time someone opens their mind to traditional indigenous knowledge. That gives me hope more than anything: the will to listen. 

One of my favourite books: Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer (If you're a fan of audiobooks, Robin reads the audiobook herself and it’s incredible. I highly highly recommend picking this up, especially if you like plants.)

Also, if you are playing Avatar: Frontiers of Pandora, please dedicate time to researching Residential Schools and their dark legacy in North America. You will better understand the real world inspiration of the Ambassador Program, but more importantly, you will be offering a listening ear to the important stories of survivors. Feel free to add more book suggestions to the comments as well!

Thank you for being here.