#you need to know that what you think it horrible is someone's creation they worked hard on and care about

[bamsara]

I love blocking people I've never interacted with based off their replies on some random popular post. Wow random user on a post with 50k notes with the worst take ever, I hope I never meet you and will make sure we never do

[lunarharp]

wip thing...

of my bg3 avatar hellebore. i also did some casual nude studies of my 3 characters which i'll put under a cut... rather unlike me after all. (so WARNING for abrupt non-sexual full Artistic nudity lol...,,,,) (< won't be making a habit of this)

they mean the world to me

[tomwaterbabies]

disneyland happenings

featuring varian and hugo. since thats what our costumes were

^(us trying to be very spooky) (there is a lot below btw lol)

someone asking if i (dressed as hugo) was from atlantis. surprisingly this only happened once

we went to kingdom hearts mickey first bc that was gonna be a popular one the rest of the night. the idea of varian in kingdom hearts is definitely really funny. i do not go here im just being honest

OH. new addition to the costume. i had olivia with me as a shoulder friend

met bruno from encanto who commented on her. we talked about our rodent friends he was very nice. he said he brought "all 200" of his rats with him and wanted to help feed them and knows mickey is a big mouse so maybe we could ask him. i said we could just steal some food. varian got mad

went over to see sid from toy story because he seemed like a mean little bitch. he was a mean little bitch. i may have said that his creations could use a little work but thats no reason for him to say "your mouse needs a little work" and "i hope you kept the receipt".... cunt

laughing about how mother gothel was no longer part of the characters to meet. "they killed her forever this time" etc etc

watching the parade and varian almost jumping out of his skin when mother gothel was in the parade. her ghost

we went to this thing called villain's grove which was a bunch of light and effects n stuff through their little forest area. it was mostly a cool immersive experience so most of the footage is on the Lights And Effects Themselves but here's a few of us that look cool lol. gay tunnel (maybe not) (that segment was themed after frollo)

met hans from frozen. we absolutely had no clue he was going to be there it was pretty funny. you may guess that my friend @kristoffs-lullaby (varian cosplayer) is a frozen enjoyer. so we hopped in line to see him

hans asked if varian's alchemy balls were some sort of magic or enchantment and you'll Never guess what varian responded with

though explaining its alchemy and science and all that didnt really make him feel better. he even asked if its something that would be in danger of bringing in an "eternal winter". varian did not like that :)

saw dr. doofenshmirtz (?) i didnt watch that show. he was pretty fun to meet though. i know some people dont like his creepy ass design, but i do, its fun and weird to me. he wanted to collaborate with me and varian since we're scientists. really funny to have him say "i'll have my people call your people". a possible strange message that rapunzel will get later /j

also encountered hades. though our friend @iammisswow was with us and so i had him focus on her since shes a big hercules fan. the visual was hugo getting this scary man's attention to be put on someone else by calling her out. it worked obviously. "oh SHE is a HUGE fan of hercules"

madam mim from sword in the stone didnt really have as big of a crowd so we actually talked with her a pretty good amount. shes SO fun. lots of discussion about magic vs science and how she thinks knowledge is stupid. you can imagine how we of all people felt when she said "KNOWLEDGE is not power, MAGIC is power". she also liked olivia (she thought she was a familiar)

meeting judge doom from roger rabbit was kind of scary LOL. very intimidating man. but his area had vats of chemicals and all that so you can imagine we had fun with that. WE can be trusted. obviously.

nervously just nodding our heads as judge doom tells us to come to him if we have any information regarding where "that rabbit is" (we are not doing that)

and also we saw ernesto de la cruz from coco. we were actually able to catch him right as he started performing which is rad but i dont actually have any interactions to tell u about here it was bad ass though

and, unbeknownst to Hugo (as in i also didnt know about this), varian had a surprise for him. he had a whole... horribly genuine and flustery spiel to say about messing around in his lab and all that and made something for hugo. which was a necklace with a piece of colored glass-like material (teal) in the shape of a heart. hugo handled that whole situation really well (lie)

ANYWAYS ! that's it. i've mentioned before but Disneyland Trips will be retired really soon since I'm not too fond of a lot of their wack shit right now, but wanted to share some of the last bit of enjoyable times to be had there before that happens

[bbokicidal]

Hiyaaaa How ya doing? F4t (=food for thoughts lol): what do u think SKZ’S ideal type would be e? Like I mean traits they’d be into? I think for bang chan like a foxy one? Like flirty girl boss he’d be like heart eyes idk. And I melt thinking about grumpy x sunshin for felix like 🌞🌚 what’s ur take on this?

Hello!! I'm doing p well, ty for asking ~

SKZ's Ideal Type (IMO)

Bangchan: Someone who is more of a leader as well - who naturally takes the big sibling role, looks after others, mom-friend of the group. Also - yes, someone who is a natural flirt and teases him back. He likes teasing people and making them flustered but I think he'd love it even more if you reciprocated the flirtatious teasing and made him all blushy, too.

Lee Know: Someone who is 1) a cat mom, and 2) very compassionate. Someone who can handle with little snarky comments and teasing, but who also helps him in teasing the others. Someone who loves with their all like he does and someone who isn't quick to call him 'mean' when he gets a little frustrated.

Changbin: Someone who doesn't wear their heart on their sleeve. Someone who doesn't just go in and out of relationships and who is waiting for the right one - he really likes that in a person. Someone who is extremely passionate and driven, and loves every side of him. Someone who lets him keep his usual schedule and doesn't complain when he wants to workout or has to stay late in the studio.

Hyunjin: Someone who sees the world almost through his own eyes. Someone who sees the art in the world the same way he does; Someone who cherishes and loves the way he does, whole heartedly. Someone who acknowledges how hard he works and how passionate he is about his creations. Also, someone who never plans to leave him. He couldn't handle being left behind.

Han: Someone who is kind of all over the place. Someone who buys things on impulse, takes trips with him on impulse, goes on tour with him on impulse. Someone who buys a puppy to be Bbama's little sibling because the baby at the shelter needed a warm home and lots of love. Someone who loves all genres of music. Someone he can share his songs with. Someone who fucks w/ Hanpop more than anyone else lolol.

Felix: Someone who loves to game. Someone who loves having big meals and cooking/baking together. Someone who can handle taking care of themselves because he can't always be there - and sometimes struggles on his own. Someone he doesn't need to worry about (even though he will anyways.) Someone who adores him as much as he adores them. But also - Someone who can stand up for themselves and doesn't always need his support.

Seungmin: Someone who loves hard. Someone who loves deep. Someone who is as passionate as himself. Someone who can handle going to baseball games with him when he has free time. Someone who will sing with him. He wants someone who will motivate him more, too, to do fun things around the house - Painting pictures together and swapping every five minutes, cooking horrible meals, and slow dancing in the living room at six in the morning to the songs of the birds outside.

Jeongin: Someone who is family oriented. Someone who handles religion as seriously as he does, but doesn't mind if he strays a little and is a slut on stage (OOPS did I say that?) . Someone who can get along really well with his parents and brothers - but also someone who helps him tease his siblings relentlessly. Someone who is okay with taking time in the relationship, because he needs to take things slow for his own well being. Someone who loves to marry.

[kandlewick]

In the Queendom of Roses, where such things as seven-league boots and cloaks of invisibility really exist, it is quite a misfortune to be born the eldest of three. Everyone knows you are the one who will fail first, and worst, if the three of you set out to seek your fortunes. gn reader x rook, a howl's moving castle au pt. 1 2

You, being born the eldest of three, always knew you wouldn't make it far in life. It was to be expected after all. You were fated to fail first and worst out of your siblings. When your siblings both were able to conjure magic from a young age, you could hardly blow a breeze. It would have been embarrassing if you hadn't already humbled yourself as a child. Of course you weren't anything special. The world needed normal, ordinary people too after all. So what if you weren't able to attend fancy colleges and gain the attention of the headmage Ambrose like your sibling had. There was nothing for you to be jealous of because you never aimed higher then what you could reach.

And so, here you were, employed — stuck — at your family's prized hat shop, sitting alone in your little alcove with only your hats as company. It was quiet, some might think too quiet, but it was where you were most comfortable. No expectations, no commentary, just you, your utensils, and your craftsmanship.

You handled your hats with care, quietly whispering blessings with each stitch. They were your creations after all. You might not amount to much but your hats would. They would settled themselves on to the heads of the busy housewives, the men of the army, and the young lovers, each with their own story to tell. You would flatter the hats, just as you would your customers.

"You," handling a small cap adorned with a veil and knot, "will surely be given to someone of glamor and beauty. They won't be able to keep their eyes off of you" You set it out amongst your most prized hats, quietly adjusting it atop the display. This one was made using expensive but durable material. It wouldn't do to have it placed sloppily. It deserved the best.

"And you," you smiled with a small chuckle, picking up a white fedora with a gaudy ribbon tied around it, "will go to a wonderfully handsome man with a good heart, I'm sure of it." It was a rather silly hat, made last minute with some left over materials, but it was sturdy all the same. The colors were also popular in the Queendom of Roses, especially amongst the card soldiers employed at the castle. Maybe one of them might stumble upon your little hat shop and spy this hat in the window.

You talked to your hats more and more as the weeks went by. You were good at selling them so it wasn't hard keeping yourself afloat. Just the other day, one of the Queen's card soldiers had come in to your shop, a man with hair the color of clovers, and sheepishly asked if he could see that one white fedora in the window. He claimed that for some reason, he couldn't stop thinking about it when he had gone off shift and needed to know if it was still available. It was a good sale and you're glad your hat went off to a good owner.

But then one day, on a particularly strenuous and busy day, you found yourself stuck wit horrible artist block. No matter how much you tried, you couldn't find any sort of inspiration for a new hat. Hours were wasted while you wiled away at your desk. Nothing worked and you found yourself teary eyed, sniffling loudly as you rubbed at your burning eyes, spools of ribbon and fabric lying all around you.

"Truly," you sobbed, heart aching, "being the oldest child is the worst curse you can be given."

What good were you if you couldn't even do the one thing you had some modicum of talent for? So what if your shop was popular?Surely this is where you peaked, alone with only the company of your hats. While your siblings were off making their fortune, surrounded by friends and loved ones, you sat here alone in an empty shop. You had no friends to speak of, the only time you ever talked was when your customers gossiped at you and finally it seemed the dam you had tried so hard to ignore had finally broke. The waves of your bottled up emotions drained out of you in waves and you could hardly stand it. What was the point of youth? Compared to others your age, you felt so old, so decrepit. Your bones ached from your poor posture, your hair thinning from the stress, and your eyes were circled with what could be mistaken for charcoal. You have never felt more unfit of your young age in your life.

In your sorrow, you spotted a purple hunter's hat — an incredibly gaudy thing you had made in an attempt to create something, anything of worth — and for the first time in your life, you cursed one of your creations.

"Surely only someone who finds beauty in anything will find any use of you!"

But the days go on whether you liked them to or not. You opened your store once again and quietly pushed down your feelings. You sat in your little alcove again today, quietly and mindlessly stitching something on to another, when you heard the tall tale sign of someone entering your shop. A small jingle followed the stranger as they ducked in almost silently. You inwardly sighed, slouching against your seat, but got up all the same. It wouldn't do not to be polite. You didn't have the fortune to afford it.

"Good evening," You plastered on a small smile at the stranger, a man, before you stopped and actually got a good look of him. He was quite tall, casting a lovely slender figure with his elaborate blonde hair, and was garbed in a bright and obviously expensive purple. His sleeves trailed longer than any you've seen before, all delicate trim and golden weaves. He even wore perfume too. The subtle smell of hyacinths followed him as he turned and smiled, his bright emerald eyes crinkling with delight.

"Bonne soirée!" He eagerly returned your greeting, with a bob of his head, his hand to his chest. You blinked up at him, mildly surprised at his mannerisms but chose not to acknowledge it, instead choosing to respond in kind.

"I've never seen you before," You admitted softly, watching as he slowly turned to admire your work. It wasn't too uncommon for customers to want to see everything but there was something different about this man. The way his eyes never glazed over as he looked, almost as if he was inspecting each one in great detail, almost made you embarrassed. Most people would just mindlessly look for something to catch their fancy but this man seemed almost entranced, as if each piece was a work of art. You both stood there in silence until the strange man seemed to snap out of his trance, his long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Were those tears in his eyes?!

"Ah, forgive me," He apologized, "I was simply admiring them. Is this all your work?" He appeared almost eager for a response, his head bobbed to the side.

You nodded sheepishly, "Yes, these are all my work. It's my job. When I'm not up front with the customers, I'm in my workshop creating them."

His smile, once subdued and quiet, widened. He took your calloused hands in his own and squeezed them. You flushed and scrambled away but his grip was too tight, not uncomfortably so, but enough that it felt too rude to rip your hands away...

"You're incredibly talented, mon ami!" He spoke with such reverence, "All of these hats, each more enchanting then the next, were obviously created from the hands of an artist!" The strange man spoke with such conviction, he almost had you believing him. You could smell the hyacinth even clearer now from your close proximity to him and it nearly made your head spin. What a courtly person!

The stranger, his hands still firmly clasped around your own, turned back to admire your hats. "Each stitch is full of magic, I've never seen anything quiet like it before."

"I - sir, I appreciate your words but I fear they're wasted on me," You let out a nervous laugh as your heart thumped in your chest, its excited beating feeling like it was about to jump straight out or your chest, "They're just hats."

The blonde man was quick to deny this, his hair rolling down his shoulders in waves, "I beg to differ, mon petite souris! Even someone such as I can see all the hard work you've put in to these! There's no need to be so humble!"

Humble! Hardly! If only he knew how you've been the past few days, stuck in your artist block, unable to dig your way out of it. He was wrong! So, so so wrong! You were nothing! This wasn't talent, this was just you using up all the luck left that had been given to you. With an almost annoyed huff, you were quick to free your hands from the strangers embrace and hid them away in your aprons front pocket. Your fingers were shaking.

"I... appreciate your kind words but I do have a business to run," You put on your best customer service voice you could muster and looked away from the man, not seeing the soft crestfallen expression forming on his face. His eyes narrowed but he made no move to reach back out and instead, his voice lowered in to an apologetic tone.

"You're right, mon petite souris. Perhaps in my admiration, I got a bit too excited." The blonde man's gloved hand came to rest against his chest and he gave a small nod of his head towards you, trying to catch your eye, "My apologies."

Well, now on top of your horrible mood, you felt bad. You let out an equally remorseful sigh, and turned back to him but he wasn't looking at you anymore. Instead, his gaze was over your shoulder, looking past you to the lone purple hunter's cap hidden away in the back. The very hat you had cursed.

"If I may be forward," He began slowly while his eyes reluctantly looked away to meet your own, "As an apology, I'd like to purchase that hat from you. Name your price."

You gave him a look but turned to grab it. The feather tucked inside of the red around the brim bobbed as you picked it up.

"This thing?" You asked, "I don't think it's any good. I made it on a whim and —"

Rook slowly plucked it from your hand and admired it for himself, turning it this way and that. His smile was sad but he accepted it all the same, "I think it is a lovely hat," he lowered his head and slid in on top of his blonde hair. It was strange, the hat seemed to... belong with him. While the hat itself was hardly anything to look at on its own, it matched his whole ensemble, like it was a piece of the puzzle that had been missing the whole time.

"How much?" He asked, utterly enamored by his reflection.

You watched from beside him, eyes avoiding your own form, but you offered his reflection a small smile and a shake of your head, "It's free. I couldn't charge you after I was so rude to you."

The stranger's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, his bright green eyes meeting your own, but they were quick to narrow in delight. His lips curled into a smile.

"Thank you, mon petite souris, I will treasure it."

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" As much as you wanted to get back to your work, you couldn't help but silently wish for a few more moments with this stranger. He was so oddly charming.

"Non, non, you've done more then enough for me today." He bowed his head, the feather on his hat bobbing with the movement, and quietly made his way to the door. His steps were silent all the way. "I have much I need to do an I have left two others waiting for my company long enough." And with a final wave of his hand, the strange man exited the shop.

You stood there longer then you should've, staring at the door, his words quietly echoing in your mind.

"All of these hats, each more enchanting then the next, were obviously created from the hands of an artist!"

You scoffed but smiled all the same. Courtly men like that just say things to gain favors. He must've been just trying to butter you up. You shook your head. It was almost a shame you'd never see the man again.

The quiet was soon shattered by a bustle of women worriedly entering the shop, each one calling out for you in worried tones. One of your regulars, an elderly woman was quick to push past the others and hurry her way to you. Her arms wrapped themselves around your shoulders and pulled you down to her height, "Oh, you poor thing!"

"Huh?" You blinked as she pulled away to look you over. Why was everyone so worried about you? "Whats gotten in to you all?"

"Whats gotten in to us?" She shrieked, her feet stomping into your worn floor, "What's gotten in to you! Do you know just who that man was?"

The man? The blonde, courtly man?

"Yes! That man!" She hollered, "That's the wizard Rook! Rook Hunt! The man who eats the hearts of those he sets his sights on! The one with the moving castle!!"

Oh? Oh! Oh.

You just gave the great wizard Rook Hunt an ugly hat.

[yurinaa-world]

Hello may I request Dan heng, blade, Dr ratio, and Sunday with a s/o who is similar to vill-v from honkai impact

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Dan Heng, Blade, Dr. Ratio, & Sunday x Gender-Neutral Reader

𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader that's like vill-v from honkai impact

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff and spelling mistakes,

𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: I legit couldn't find anything on this girl, I know she makes serval personalities for working and switches when doing certain tasks, but that was it. (I decided to pick one personality for each to make it easier on me)

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

You’re a bit of an oddball. Your personality, whichever one you’re using while working, he'll love every version of you no matter what. He’s made it this far already. What’s stopping him now?

He loves it whenever you finish one of your latest creations. Running to him and wrapping your arms against his while looking at him with a happy smile on your face, telling him about a new experiment that he has to see! Dragging him away to your room!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Dan Heng!”

You come running to him, when he sees you his eyes go wide like you were going to crash into him! Wrapping your arms around his. “What is it?”

“Guess what? I just finished my invention! You know the one I've been talking about for days! It's done!”

Hugging his arm like a teddy bear, while looking up at him with that bright look in your eyes—how can he resist?

“Come look!”

Before he could even say anything you pull him towards your room, and he just lets himself get dragged along with you. Once you reach there you let go of his arm and immediately start your little “show”

“You’re gonna love this one!” 

“I’m excited to see.”

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

He loves you a lot on the inside but on the outside, he looks like he wants to choke you to death whenever you’re talking about your new inventions or randomly dragging him away to see your “baby” in all its glory.

You're hot with any personality.

Whenever he comes back from a mission he comes bearing gifts, like several machine parts, but nothing compared to the parts that he comes to deliver which immediately makes him regret when you pull him into your room and you don’t let him out until hours later. (He says he regrets it every time yet he still comes)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“No way! No way! No way! Blade you got me this ” 

“You wanted it, so I got it for you.”

You shriek so loudly that your ear might start bleeding. when you received your gift from Blade you were overjoyed! it was the perfect gear for your inventions! just perfect and you didn’t even tell him! 

“Thank you bladie!” you smile holding it to your chest, before putting it in your pocket, going back into your lab and stopping immediately in your tracks. walking back over to him, pulling him by the collar and leaning in to kiss him on the lips. 

You pull away quickly, dragging his hand into your lab with you.

“you must see this as well!”

𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜

He's so into your serious and critical-thinking work ethic personality. At the same time, you invent things, having someone think critically about what he says and take in the feedback, even pointing out negative or flimsy suggestions and coming up with a better alternate idea. (he only allows it because he’s in love with you)

When he lovely teases you. It makes it even better with that serious and concentrated look on your face when you tease him back and tell him that his heart is accelerating in speed…just watch him go speechless.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Warning: I don’t know what I’m talking about

“Metal didn’t have much support in the middle causing much more damage without a pillar in there.”

Veritas points out the obvious reason why your machine was dented in the middle. looking at it with critical eyes. 

The damages are horrible, you doubt any of the circuit boards can be fixed or kept—only if you were extremely lucky—you sigh.

 “It seems like I need to go back to the drawing board. with this terrible damage, nothing is salvageable.”  You said with regret as you stared down at the destroyed machine before you. 

“It wouldn't just be a pill but it wouldn’t fix the fact that the metal is weak. It would give it protection…yet it wouldn’t fix anything.”

You remark inspecting the machine and its defaults for the last time—with Veritas watching from beside. Well, he wasn’t watching the machine, instead he was gazing at your face.

You were frowning in deep thought—you looked adorable with furrowed brows and arms crossed.  he wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss you, yet that's a very unprofessional little daydream of his.

“You staring, Dr ratio.” you look him in the eyes, that everyday grin you usually have on your lips while teasing him with that title.

he huffs playfully with an eye roll, “So what if I’m making no difference to your work schedule does it? if it does then it seems like we'll need to cure your idiocy.”

“Sounds like you're becoming a bit too defensive Dr. Ratio.”

𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

The cute little inventor for the oak family. His lover. He knows about your madness yet if you complete your task on time and perfectly (also be his cute little lover) all at the same time then he doesn’t mind in the slightest.

He always loves to praise you while you're in the middle of your work, sadly you don’t call him all the pet names you usually do when you’re alone.

 To see you so respectful, calling him “Mr. Sunday”, stopping everything just hearing what he has to say. Honestly, the way you melt a little from persona when he decides to be generous and give you a little gift for working so hard.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You look quite busy.”

You didn’t think that Sunday was going to come to see you in the middle of work and then he also sneaks up on you! you feel a little embarrassed being exposed in your workplace in front of him. 

“Sunday!—I mean Mr. Sunday!” You stutter a bit with your nervousness, “soo Mr. Sunday! How can I help you?” You ask politely, trying to calm down.

Which he teasingly smiles at you, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t need to be so formal with me, even when no one’s around.” He leans into you, while you go still. 

“Someone could overhear us. who knows what kind of rumors could come out.” 

“Someone blackmailing the Oak family? Preposterous, that won’t happen. but now I believe my adorable little inventor deserves some praise” He coos at you, his hand goes to cup your cheek, thumb gently caressing your cheek.

 You blush at the affectionate gesture. before being put into absolute shock when he pecked you on the lips. “Work hard for me.”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[razberrypuck]

also mildly unrelated but wasn't the photo of the inventor super damaged and incomplete. I need you to hear me out bc I'm literally just making shit up but WHAT IF. mister lougferd and the inventor. used to be colleagues. wghat if lougferd betrayed him or smth and the inventor had to go so far into hiding that only ONE PERSON in the UNDERGROUND knows where he is. because like you would assume someone as important as the inventor wouldn't be in horrible imminent danger in reclaim. you'd think he'd be revered for his work. and mr lougferd is clearly aware of reclaim's existence, that's what the clockwork soldiers are FOR.

and all I'm saying. lougferd and the inventor both put those magical stones into all of their creations. the inventor prides himself on it.

[wordsofelie]

Chapter 1

🎋The footprints he etched on the earth

Bokuto x f!reader

Prequel : 🌌The stars he left in the sky (can be read as a standalone)

Summary : The stars he left in the sky are nothing compared to the footprints he etched on the earth.

or when you meet bokuto koutarou and wonder if you’ve ever truly known beauty before him.

Context warning: time skip setting, ex!oikawa, alcohol consumption, swearing, a lot of french words sorry

Words count: 3.1k

chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4

You’re grateful for the life you’ve been given. You’re healthy, you have a loving family with supportive parents and a funny little brother. You’ve worked hard to become a pâtissière and had great opportunities in Europe. But right now, as your boss argues that a Tatin tart and a Normande tart are essentially the same thing, you can’t help but think the gods are conspiring against you.

“Huh? What’s the problem? They both have apples in them,�� he dares insisting.

You’ve studied in Paris. Paris, France. Alongside the best chefs in the world. And yet, here you are, being contradicted by a fifty-something man on something so basic. You’re not just being told you’re wrong, but in front of colleagues and even a few customers.

So, yes, you’re grateful for your life. But you’d be even more grateful if you could punch that man in the face. Of course, you won’t. You can’t. You need this job to pay your bills, your rent (because Tokyo is expensive), and to save for building the pâtisserie you’ve dreamed of for years. You know exactly what it’ll look like—where the counter will be, what colour the walls will be. Everything is planned, except for one detail: how and where you’ll actually get the place.

You force out an apology. It’s painfully obvious that it isn’t sincere, but you bow anyway, hoping it hides your annoyed expression. Then, you retreat to the back room because the croissants are ready and even though you hate your boss, you hate letting food burn in the oven more.

Days have felt repetitive since you arrived in Tokyo six months ago. Your routine begins at 4 a.m., with a quick breakfast. Most mornings, your roommate, Umi, is still awake, surrounded by her mountain of medical textbooks. You don’t know how she manages to decipher the words in her books because the light from her desk is dim (well, that might be the reason why she’s using glasses now).

“I’ll be back around five,” you say, even though she knows your schedule by heart.

“Got it. Have a good day!”

“And have a good night,” you reply with a smile.

The walk to the bakery is usually pleasant. You love seeing the sunrise over Tokyo—except now it’s May, and the weather is horrible. Still, you’ve never regretted moving here. You remember your professor in Paris warning you about how tough and unfair the culinary world can be, especially for women. It didn’t deter you. You’ve never wanted fame; you just want to open a pâtisserie and make people happy with your creations. For now, though, gaining more experience is your priority, so you work at a well-known bakery in Shibuya.

It’s only temporary, it’s only temporary, you often need to remind yourself—especially on tough days like today.

You don’t think you’re gaining a lot of practical skills but at least, you’ve learned a bit of humility here (no matter how forced and unfair it feels).

When you return home that evening, you’re not expecting much. When Umi comes home later, she often brings groceries or takeout. For someone who bakes, you’re surprisingly terrible at cooking savoury dishes. Umi discovered this shortly after you moved in, watching you struggle to roast vegetables or boil an egg.

Weeks of your culinary disasters led her to casually take over dinner duties. Ever since then, she’s been the one in charge and seems satisfied with it. You don’t mind—it’s a fair trade, especially since she’s a great cook.

“My dad was awful in the kitchen, so I had to take over cooking for me and my siblings,” she once explained. “I also had two neighbours who played sports. I made bentos for them all the time. I mean, I used to help their mother make them, she’s the one who taught me everything about cooking. One of the twins would help, but the other was a total ungrateful bastard who just ate everything.”

In return, you sneak pastries home from your workplace (a small rebellion against your boss) and make pancakes on the weekends.

Tonight, you’ve just stepped out of the shower when Umi bursts through the door.

“Hiii!” she exclaims brightly. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” you reply, keeping it short.

You’re usually good at hiding negative emotions—your teachers in Paris were brutally harsh at times, and showing weakness only invited more criticism (maybe even exclusion) . But with Umi, it’s different. She has an uncanny ability to read people’s feelings and make you feel comfortable with those feelings.

“I grew up with two younger siblings, an introverted best friend, and childhood friends who were all boys,” she told you. “I’ve basically seen every version of emotional repression there is.”

So, it doesn’t take her long to figure out you’re upset.

“Bad day?” she asks. “Wanna talk about it?”

“It’s just… my boss,” you mutter.

“What did that old geezer do this time?”

You sigh. “He was wrong about something, I tried to explain that he made a mistake but he just looked down on me. But I’m not surprised, he would rather die than admit that a girl like me is right… But honestly, it’s not just him. It’s the industry. It’s always like this.”

“Yeah, but it’s weird how everyone just accepts it and nothing changes.” She lets out a dramatic groan. “You know what the problem is? Men.”

You chuckle at that, it’s her usual response to every issue (not that you would deny it though).

You slump into the chair and press your face against the palm of your hand, when she suddenly pulls out a bottle of red wine from her bag.

You raise an eyebrow.

“You know I’m not that desperate to the point where I need to drink to deal with a bad day, right?”

“This isn’t about your bad day,” she grins. “It’s about celebrating.”

“Celebrating what? My shitty boss?”

“Let me explain!” she says, rushing to the kitchen to grab glasses. “You know my childhood friend, the one with the restaurant in Osaka?”

“The twin who isn’t an ungrateful bastard?”

“Yes, but his name is Osamu, I already told you. Anyway, a shop next to his restaurant just closed, and the landlady is looking to sell. Osamu knows her and I mentioned you’re looking for a place to open your bakery.”

You open your mouth to correct her (it’s a pâtisserie not a bakery!) but decide to you let her finish instead.

“He said he could arrange a meeting for you. Interested?”

Osaka. You’ve never been there, but the idea intrigues you. People from Kansai are known for their warmth and humour—so different from the quiet of your hometown in Miyagi. Change might be good, you find yourself thinking.

“Sure, I’d be interested,” you say cautiously (in case it doesn't work, don't get your hopes up).

“Great! Osaka is the best, and I know people there who can help you settle in. I’d recommend looking at apartments in—”

“Umi, I haven’t even seen the place yet.”

“Don’t worry,” she says confidently. “Just make them try your strawberry and cream tart. No one can say no to that!”

You laugh. “You mean the fraisier?”

“Gods, yes. Just use that sexy French accent of yours, and they’ll agree in no time.”

“Whatever you say,” you can’t help but laugh a little. “The wine is French, huh?”

She pours a generous amount into your glass, “of course. Last time I brought Californian you almost killed me.”

You take a look at the bottle to check if she’s telling the truth. You nod proudly and she smiles back.

“To your bakery!” She raises her glass and so do you.

A few days later, after pretending to be bedridden by a sudden and debilitating cold to take a fews days off from work (to which your boss complains), you find yourself standing at the station ready to leave for Osaka.

Umi had given you everything you needed: Miya Osamu's number, his address, and an enthusiastic list of typical Kansai expressions.

When you arrive there, you immediately search for “Onigiri Miya” on your phone. When you check it you are nothing but impressed by the 5 stars behind the name and the hundred and hundred of good comments.

Will you also get that someday?

Will your pâtisserie gather many people and be a place of happiness?

You try not to think too much about it, because with the flicker of hope comes fear, and you don’t have time to be negative. You have to move forward and put on a brave face, that’s what you’ve been taught.

As you step off the train and start to look for the right bus, a voice calls out behind you.

“Yer Umi’s roommate, right?”

You turn around to see a man with short brown hair. There’s a relaxed air about him that makes you feel comfortable.

“Miya-san?” you assume.

“The good one, yeah,” he replies with a boyish smile. You think his Kansai accent adds an easy charm to his voice.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come. I could have taken the bus, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Nah, yer not. Follow me.”

He offers to carry your bag and leads you to his car, parked just outside the station.

The ride is mostly food-related, he tells you about his business. How he started as the employee of an old man who had a ramen restaurant, which eventually became his. How he transformed it into an onigiri restaurant before opening a second shop recently in Tokyo.

“Why onigiri?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He thinks for a moment. “I guess… it reminds me of home. My Ma’ used to make ’em all the time when we were kids. And I love makin’ ’em myself. Like, physically usin’ my hands. Does that make sense?”

“It does,” you say with a small smile. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about your mother’s cooking.”

“It’s the best,” he says, and his tone turns soft. “Though, she didn’t really teach me much about baking. That’s why I’m impressed by what ya do.”

His compliment takes you by surprise, you restrain yourself from smiling with all your teeth.

You meet the landlady the minute you step out of the car. She listens to you carefully and even though you try not to overthink it, she seems more than happy at the idea of opening a French pâtisserie in the neighbourhood.

Osamu mentions after the meeting how you definitely “won her over with how detailed and motivated ya were.”

You don’t tell him that it only makes sense because you’ve dreamed of owning a place for years. You’ve imagined everything, thought about it during sleepless nights and overworked days. It is the lighthouse that guided you through heartbreaks and homesickness. So when the opportunity presents itself, there’s no way you wouldn’t give your all.

“I hope she’ll accept my project,” you simply answer.

“D’ya want onigiri?” The man offers.

You obviously accept (Umi dragged about how delicious they were, you need to find out whether that is true or not) and thank him again. He brushes it off with a “Umi’s friends are my friends and I’m always happy to feed people.”

His shop is warm and welcoming, and his food is delightful. You might yourself add a five-star review on Google.

“I never thought a rice ball could be that good,” you say with a mouth full of food.

“Rice balls? Ya don’t know how much time it took me to master that.”

Right, you don’t know, but you can only imagine. The culinary world isn’t only competitive and cruel. It’s sweat and tears, years of making to perfect a simple recipe. It’s giving your entire being into your crafts only to hear people say “well, that mustn’t be too difficult to make.”

But it’s also pride and art. Not a day goes by when you aren’t excited to try a new combination: replace wheat flour with almond flour for the brioches, add a spoonful of orange blossom to your cream puffs, and the list is long. And if you make someone happy, if they ask to have a second piece of your cake, that’s when you know the sweat and the tears aren’t that important.

You crave to build your pâtisserie, the same way Osamu built his restaurant (with warmth and love), and taste what it’s like to pour your heart into something tangible and undeniably yours.

Things move faster than you’d anticipated. The landlady approves your proposal, the bank grants your loan, and within the span of a week, you exchange your resignation letter with a lease and a pair of keys.

You’re sad to leave Umi, she is too.

“I’ll come whenever I can.” She says with a sad smile.

“I’ll sneak pastries for you,” you wink in return and when you hug, she congratulates you and tells you (for the tenth time) that you deserve it. You think a tear escapes your eyes.

Your newfound property is empty and cold. And when you open the door for the first time you realise that it might require a lot of work.

But Osamu is there every step of the way. He kindly offers advice and helps you with renovations. You’re a bit embarrassed by how much he’s done so far and at the same time, you know you have to take everything there is to make that place great. So it becomes a routine for him to cross the road from his shop to yours at the end of his shift to give you a hand.

“Yer makin’ the right choice,” he says one evening as you both sit outside Onigiri Miya, sharing a quick meal after a day of painting walls and changing seals. “That place is gonna bring in plenty of tourists and locals.”

You glance at him, there are nerves swirling in your chest. “I hope so.”

“Ya are. Trust me. Yer gonna have queues and queues of people.”

You hide your nerves with sarcasm, “And if they’re tired of waiting, I’ll tell them that there's a not-too-bad onigiri restaurant in front of my shop. Just so you know, time passes faster.”

He sneers at that, “’Not too bad’, ya sound like my brother.”

“Don’t know the guy but that didn’t seem to be a compliment.”

“That wasn’t.”

You roll your eyes and he laughs in return.

The hardest part of the renovation happens to be the most important one: the kitchen. You’re knee-deep in setting up the oven when you realise that maybe, you might need more people to assemble to equipment.

“I can find two or three more biceps to help,” Osamu tells you when he finds you trying to lift the 250-pound fridge by yourself.

“Yeah, I guess that would be useful,” you say breathlessly.

The next morning, you arrive early. Not as early as Osamu it seems since you see him standing outside your shop, hands in his pockets and wearing a sports suit (the clothes are unusual on him, you think). The closer you get, the blonder his hair looks. The sun has barely rise, and you blame the light for it.

You immediately call out, “Miya-san?”

He turns around, “Oh, hey!”

“You could have come later, you know. I was planning on cleaning a little bit before you arrived.”

“Don’t worry," he shakes his head, “’Samu would have killed me if I had been late.”

“Samu?”

And then, just as quickly, Osamu (the real one) shows up and for a second, you’re confused.

“Good morning,” he says before pointing to the other man, “seems like ya just met my brother.”

“I’m Atsumu.” The blond guy extends his hand to you and your knitted brows probably gives away your confusion. “Don’t tell me ya thought I was ‘Samu?”

Of course that’s his brother, you idiot. You curse yourself.

“Sorry. You guys look similar,” you say, but it’s not quite an excuse for your mistake.

They both share a glance before laughing and you think you just sounded stupid because obviously, they look alike, they’re fucking twins. You reason yourself by thinking that it’s very much early and that you’re not fully awake.

“We’re very different. I mean, our bodies aren’t built the same since I’m a professional athlete and ‘Samu’s not. I’ve always been the smartest one too.” He crosses his arms to his chest.

Osamu rolls his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. You’ll learn the difference soon enough. I’m the serious one.” He gestures to his brother. “He’s the disaster.”

Atsumu shrugs dramatically. “Hey, the world needs a little chaos, ya shithead!”

You can’t help but laugh despite the tension between them.

“Where’s the fridge?”

“I think we should wait for him; it will be easier if we’re four,” Osamu tells his brother. You didn’t know another person would come, you want to ask about them but Atsumu interferes before you can open your mouth.

“I’m pretty sure I can manage on my own, I’m a-”

“Professional athlete. I think we got it ‘Tsumu so can ya shut the fuck up now?”

You fear Atsumu will jump his brother if you don’t stop them.

“What sport?” You ask hurriedly before he can take a step towards Osamu.

“Volleyball. I’m the starting setter of the National Team.”

“Thought Tobio-kun was.”

The older twin glowers at the younger one.

“I’m impressed Atsumu-san, I actually know a professional setter.”

“Who?” The man’s eyes widen, and you decipher not only curiosity but competition on his face (typical man behaviour).

“He’s not in Japan though. But maybe you’ve heard of him, his name is Oika-”

“My bad Sam-sam, I walked past that place.”

A man enters the room. He is a bit sweaty and his hair, grey and raven, is falling on his forehead. 

“Did ya run to come here?” Osamu raises an eyebrow at him.

He grins and scratches the back of his neck nervously, “I took the wrong street.”

“But it’s the same as Onigiri Miya.”

“But it’s always Omi-Omi who guides us here. I never came on my own,” he pouts.

“Thank you for coming,” you hear yourself say and that’s when he finally sees you. His pout immediately disappears.

You think he is handsome. He and his golden eyes. But it’s only a sample of his beauty because when he replies “of course,” with his smile all bright and warm, you’re mesmerised.

It’s almost instinctive, the way you can’t look away. It’s like an effortless intake of air. Like your eyes seem to be glued to his features, and soon enough, to his arms and the way the muscles contract slightly when he offers his hand for you to shake it.

“I'm Bokuto,” he grins. “Nice to meet you.”

“Bokkun, yer hands are all dirty. She’s a lady.”

“Oops, Tsum-Tsum is right. Where can I wash them?” He asks you and hides his hands behind his back.

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. The room is filled with silence for a very long minute before Osamu finally decides to show him the way.

Why are you disappointed? Why did you want so badly to shake his hand?

Perhaps because it’s too early for your mind to function properly.

Your brain tries to go for that answer (your beating heart whispers something else).

“Should we start workin’”? Atsumu proposes and you nod.

Well, it seems like you’re stuck with two bickering brothers and this god-like man named Bokuto.

(This is going to be a good day, you think discretely).

author notes: okay so this was supposed to be a one-shot but it will be a 3 or 4 chapters story haha

(writing this made me very hungry btw)

[shiftinglea]

Clarifications about Death and Taking Your Own Life

My last post about death (part 2) raised many questions about suicide and why it's different and "wrong" compared to other causes of death, such as being brutally killed. In this post, I want to address those questions.

1. If you get brutally killed, is it chosen by our souls?

Yes. As I mentioned, when and how you die is decided by you on a soul level. Even if a person dies in a horrible way at the hands of others, it was chosen by that person's soul. I understand why this is hard to comprehend and accept. When I see news about a child being brutally killed by their parents, my first reaction is pain, horror, sadness, and anger. It's natural. But let's return to the question: why would someone choose (on a soul level) to die like that?

The answer is a matter of perspective. From our human perspective, this death is unfathomable. But from the soul's perspective, it makes sense. Everything in our life is created by us, either consciously, subconsciously, or on a soul level. As I mentioned in my first post, some traumatic situations that we would never consciously choose to manifest are indeed chosen by our souls to be experienced. Death is also created by your soul because it serves the agenda of that soul. What is the agenda of the soul of a child brutally murdered by their parents? Why did their soul choose to die like that?

I can't provide a definitive answer since I don't know the agendas of each specific soul. But when I asked my soul and God to help me understand why such deaths are chosen by souls, I received this answer:

When a child (or anyone) dies in such a way, the agenda of that soul could be:

- A selfless agenda to serve others. In this case, it would be to show other people how our society is flawed and make them face the problems of our world. It's a powerful message and agenda that helps others awaken. When we see news about an innocent child being brutally murdered, we experience pain. This pain shows that this is not who we are. We are beings of love. It also makes you wonder why our society creates "monsters" who kill their own children or anyone. It's about taking responsibility for our creations and realizing that all these criminals are byproducts of the current system that the majority created. Do you think that if we lived in a peaceful society where everyone feels safe, loved, equal, and has their needs met, anyone would desire to hurt others? No, because we are all One. We are individuations of God. When we hurt others, we hurt ourselves. When we see people being killed, mutilated, or tortured, the purpose behind it is to show that the way we do things on this planet doesn't work. Society needs to change. All the people who die in such horrible ways, their souls chose to show us that. The agenda is to help us wake up through pain.

- Another agenda souls might have when going through traumatic events and horrible deaths is to experience forgiveness, empathy, compassion, and resilience. Experiencing trauma helps a soul better understand the suffering of others. It fosters empathy. Such deep compassion can be essential for a soul's growth and its ability to help others. When a soul wants to experience forgiveness, it chooses life events (and even death) that create a context for such forgiveness. How can you forgive when there is nothing and no one to forgive? A soul would create a contract with another soul to experience forgiveness by being hurt in the physical realm. If a soul chooses to experience its own power and limitlessness, it may create very challenging and traumatic events to see that even the most horrible pain and situations don't destroy it. Even dying brutally, you realize it didn't destroy you. You keep on living, realizing that your body is fragile, but the Real You never dies and never suffers.

Also, check this video to understand this point better.

I want to add that when people die in such horrible ways, they experience such encompassing love in the spiritual realm that it helps them heal. Eventually, such souls remember why they chose to die like that and see perfection in everything, especially their death, because it served their agenda.

Some people say that thinking others chose to go through such suffering is blaming the victims. But I don't see it that way. I'm not blaming them; I honor them. I see beyond the simple fact of being brutally killed. I see the agenda behind their choice to die like that. I admire such souls for choosing such life paths. And I feel happy for them because I know they are now in a place of pure love and light. They are so cared for and taken care of. They are Home with God.

2. Another question I want to answer: isn’t being murdered and killed considered dying before your life is completed?

No. Your physical life completion isn’t defined by your biological clock and age. It’s defined by whether you have accomplished everything you wanted to on a soul level. This decision is made by your soul, not your mind. Dying very early on (e.g., in childhood) or being killed by someone is perfectly timed by your soul. Even if it seems that this person died too early and without accomplishing much, it’s only our limited human perspective. Their soul accomplished everything it wanted and it was time to move on to the spiritual realm.

3. Perhaps the most asked question: isn’t suicide also chosen by the soul? Why is it different and worse than being killed?

First of all, it's not "worse" or "better." These are human terms. In this case, it's about choosing paths that suit your agenda and goals and those that don't. As I mentioned in the original post, death must meet two conditions to be classified as suicide:

- You must be aware of what you are doing, making a conscious decision to die.

- You must choose to die to escape life rather than complete it.

When people kill themselves, they mostly do it in hopes of escaping their lives. It's not wrong or bad; it's just counterproductive. You don't escape anything. It's merely a temporary escape into the spiritual realm, leading to a rebirth where the same challenges reemerge. It doesn't happen instantly.

When a person kills themselves, they enter the spiritual realm where they heal from all the pain and suffering they went through. They spend as long as they need there. They remember who they truly are (God) and why they chose to experience such challenges. They remember their agenda. Nobody forces them to go through such challenges; it's always free will. If a soul decides it hasn't accomplished its agenda, it returns to the physical realm (when ready) to face the same challenges again.

Suicide is never chosen by the soul. It's a decision made by your human self in hopes of escaping life. It's an untimely death because they haven't accomplished what they wanted. They escaped it.

Some people ask, what if the soul realizes it made a mistake and doesn't want to go through the same challenges? Our human minds can make mistakes, but our souls are pure essence of God. Do you think God makes mistakes? Your soul always knows what it's doing. It never chooses challenges it thinks are impossible for you to handle. If you're facing challenges, it means you're capable of dealing with them. You've placed such situations (unconsciously) to find a gift in them. Manifesting and using the LOA is one way to deal with difficult situations. Seeing deeper meaning behind every challenge is another. But killing yourself means deciding you can't deal with the situation and there's no other way. But there are always ways. You are a powerful creator and you can deal with anything. Nothing can destroy you. You will have as many reincarnations as needed to accept your limitlessness, power, and immortality.

I'm having these conversations with you to help expand your mind. To elevate your thinking from a human perspective to a soul perspective. The human perspective is limiting. But when you look at your life from a soul perspective, you see perfection in everything, especially in traumatic experiences. You are not human; you are having a human experience.

I hope this post helped you to understand better such complex topics as death and suicide. If you have more questions, I’m always open to them 🙏

[thoughtsofatransboy]

I hope you know you're really worth it.

Hello fellas!! Are you guys doing well? Sleeping and eating? I hope yes! I'm happy to be back writing by my own will, not just for full fill requests (something my little burnout brain can't do perfectly) There's another MCR fanfic, since this fellas are the reason I smile everyday 👾

Warnings: This fic contains pet names such as: angel, sweetheart, darling and pretty thing; multiartist!reader, sex, gn!reader, implicit afab!reader (I'll try my best to not describe genitals), kind of dom!Frank Iero, grammar mistakes cuz my English sucks. Some angst and a scar (implicit SH) mention. If any of this things can make you feel uncomfortable, feel free to leave and maybe read something else from my blog

1st of August, another month, another week, another day. Honestly, your life's being a stupid watercolor blur, the hours and the moments and the pain just mix with your emptiness.

You've been feeling real down, a horrible self-esteem and lack of creativity. Basically, you're experiencing a severe burnout. Being an artist, you know how much the quality of your creations tends to decrease when you're going through something like this.

But... in the middle of your chaotic situation, you have someone who can always make you laugh, flush, giggle, smile and have pleasure. Your beloved one, Frank Iero. Which you call as "Frankie"... You can't understand how you got so lucky in your life to have someone as sweet as him to love and take care of you.

Well, as sweet and adorable as it looks like, you've been having struggles with him too. Not because of his actions, but because of your fear of losing him. Anytime you went to a walk with him, and you see him looking to someone, you couldn't help but feel insecure, afraid that he might be desiring them.

You know it's just some paranoia and he would never do something like this to you, at least is what your rational part wants you to believe.

8 p.m, you're laid down on your sofa, with a small blanket covering your legs. You're waiting for Frank to arrive home. You're looking around your living room, trying to distract yourself from the scars on your arm, they really aren't helping your self-esteem. You notice that your cat is there, she seems happy, meowing around and chasing a little fly. God... How much you wish you were happy like a cat.

You couldn't do anything but feel overwhelmed with your pain. Your work, art, family, your partner, yourself. Before you could notice, you're collapsing into tears, and so focused in your crying, you don't listen to the key turning in the door. Frank arrived, but instead of a happy partner, he finds you crying and hopelessly on the couch.

"Sweetheart! Are you ok?" Frank said, no taking too long to go towards the couch and hug you. "Shh... shh... it's ok... I'm here, it will be fine.." Honestly that's all you needed. You let yourself focus on the moment, while he strokes your hair gently. After some minutes in completely silence, he decides to ask. "What happened angel? Why were you crying?" You really want to answer him, but all you could say was "Frankie, am I worth your love?"

Frank was surprised, there wasn't many questions in this world that would make him feel so sad as he was now. He wasn't showing his partner enough love? How could he be so fool to let his own partner think something like this?

"Oh sweetheart... you are the prettiest person I ever met in my whole life. Of course you're worth it" You finally could feel yourself calming down a little, In the heat of the moment, he kisses you on the lips, sweet but really sloppy.

What was supposed to be an innocent little kiss turns into a make out session, with some naughty hands and pleasure moans. Your tears couldn't even be noticed anymore, they're drying more and more as Frank caress your face with so much caring and love.

Your senses are filled by his scent, your body sensitive to his hands caressing through your favorite spots. He breaks the kiss, not gasping for air, but on the way to kiss and suck at your neck.

His kisses send shivers down your spine and his hickeys makes you feel something else down there. He seems more desperate than you, alternating between kissing you mouth and your neck.

Noticing that you're aroused, Frank finally decides to act, passing his hands through your body, until he arrives your waistband, lowering your pajama pants down. Getting on top of you, he starts grinding against your crotch in anticipation.

"Darling, I wish I could give you my eyes... My ears... My thoughts, so you could understand that everything you do is incredible, so you could see yourself the way I see you" His soft words making the perfect contrast with his hands lowering your underwear in a quick movement, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

"Frankie, I love you so much" he smiled to you. He starts to undo his belt, getting rid of his pants and underwear, not bothering in looking where he threw it at. Oh, how could you hold yourself when he is stroking his cock while looking in your eyes? You left out a desperate whine. "Please! C'mon Frankie!"

Who he is to deny you your pleasure? He aligned himself to your entrance, before pushing in slowly and delicate, making you let out sweet moans and some curses. You and Frankie mostly fuck, but not today, today he was making love to you, passionate and pleasuring love.

His thrusts delicate but deep, a sensual pace that made him be able to touch all your sweet spots. Your hole clenching around him, your bodies so connected and heated, his sweating face, your moans, his whines. All of this was too much for you, you couldn't help but let it out go, cumming without advise.

"Hell yeah! Pretty thing... so beautiful when you cum" his attention suddenly goes to your neck, once again he decided to use all his effort to mark your neck. Despite he never stops the rhythm of his thrusts while he goes to your neck, his legs are shaking a little, his moans are getting louder. A sign that he's going to cum very soon.

After some minutes, he couldn't help anymore, cumming inside of you. Collapsing over the couch, next to you. "Hey sweetheart... I hope you know you're really worth it" with a small giggle, you let yourself fall asleep slowly next to your love. Maybe you still going to have troubles to create and maybe you still feel a little sad... But at least you have the sweetest lover in the world, right there for you.

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

my lucifer headcanons

note: these are just my own head canons. things i’ve noticed, how i write lucifer, what plays into why i write luce the way i do… etc. purely my own opinion.

- i think michael was very fond of his brother

- when the time came though to listen to dad and fulfill his duty or be a brother to lucifer michael chose duty

- the betrayal is still a sore spot for lucifer

- during lucifer’s “youth” he was curious, always dreaming up incredible creations… it was why he was dads favorite.

- he made the star fish, “because the sea deserves its own stars!” and he also made the duck. the ducks first iteration was quite a bit larger… lucifer and god compromised on a smaller duck. (more like god bribed lucifer.)

- he watched adam be made…. so he was always fond of him and lilith… until he fell in love with lilith…

- he didn’t realize it was love

- but michael knew and michael was scared. so he would draw lucifer away from the garden every chance he got

- lucifer was very naive when he was cast down to hell. he knew so much, he had been alive for so long, but there was so much life experience he didn’t have.

- the first few years in hell were horrible…

- he had hope at first

- maybe it all wouldn’t be so bad

- it was really bad. like really bad. the people who came down to hell were unspeakable devils

- (this is based off a fic i read and i can’t find it, if this rings any bells pls let me know the fic name) but lucifer is continuously appalled and distraught by the atrocities committed in his name.

- it’s one of the reasons he so powerful. he has the angelic power but also the power from those who worship him and make sacrifices for him

he really hates it. a lot. makes him feel no better than the worse overlord (cough alastor cough)

- charlie has no idea and she’ll never know if he can help it

- lucifer smells like apples and vanilla musk, a hint of cinnamon and something floral or citrusy.

- the floral or citrus changes depending on his mood

- he has a huge library. he actually pops up to earth with Asmodeous sometimes and takes books.

- he saved the whole Library of Alexandria’s books before it burned down

- he’s great friends with all the sins

- arguably closest with Beelzebub and Asmodeous

- he loves claw machines. the lights, the sounds, the prize winning???? he’s so fucking happy

- he actually wears glasses to read. he doesn’t need them but he says they make him look smarter.

- is actually a pretty good leader, is not nearly as forgiving as charlie is, but he’s not inherently cruel

- his third favorite color is pink

- his first and second are yellow and red, obviously

- he has expensive ass, maximalist taste.

- he doesn’t use tech because he knows what vox does to said tech.

- he’s always wanted a dog

- he’s very touchy. shows love physically. is only this way if he likes you though

- he has nightmares almost every night

- coffee addict

- because after not sleeping he wakes up looking like death warmed over

- and that’s if he didn’t forget to eat the past few days except for random snacks and didn’t do a 48 hour blitz of staying up working on ducks or the bit of kingdom shit he does.

- he has a handful of servants who he trusts and they are the only one in the house. there’s no team. nothing like that. he keeps it very close

- this was after someone who was a servant tried to throw an angelic dagger at his head because really they wanted to kill him and thought working for him would get them close enough.

- he homeschooled charlie. he knows a lot of stuff and even knew the guy who created calculus!

[chaoticace2005]

I’m sitting here thinking about why it may have been Sir Pentious got redeemed. Yes, he risked his life and got killed (?) protecting his friends. It’s possible either he went to Heaven when he double-died, or he got "redeemed" and as such wasn't even killed, but was rather just beamed up there before the blast hit.

Maybe redemption is just doing good enough to get thrown up there, maybe it's dying doing something good... or maybe it has to do with exactly what you do.

Pulling a Charlie here, "redemption" can mean "atoning for a fault or mistake." (Dictionary.com)

What exactly was Sir Pentious' mistake? We see in episode 2 that he uses his creations as a way to attack people for the sake of gaining power/attention. That's his main goal and his creations are the tools he uses to get it. And then we see it also act as protection for him, it's how he wants to defend himself against the other hotel residents. After episode 2 we don't really see him use his creations (beyond the ggs) again, with Vaggie cutting him off.

It's not until episode 7 that he starts building again, and it's not a weapon either. The first thing we see him build since coming to the hotel is defensive measures for the attack, working with Husk, Angel, and Niffty.

He also was previously willing to command others (his minions) in battle rather than fight himself. He says in episode 3 he doesn't know how to fight without his minions. Then in the battle in episode 8 he's still commanding others, but it's not only for his own gain. He could have left the hotel but he chose to stay and fight with the others.

Basically: in the past he used his creations and commanded others in an attempt to gain power. It's all fueled by pride, greed, (and envy?) But what does he do in episode 8? He throws himself into battle. He gets back in the blimp that he hadn't been show in since episode 2. He again charges at a being that is much more powerful than him, using weapons he built and commanding an egg army, but his reason for doing it changed.

He knows he may die. There isn't any greed in what he does, it's a sacrifice for the others. For the only friends he's gotten in Hell. If he was greedy he could have left when Vaggie told them they could in episode 7. It isn't a matter of pride or proving himself to someone else either- he does it because it's what he sees needs to be done.

He took the same actions that made him a "bad person" but the intent and meaning behind them is wholly different. He's doing it for the opposite reasons. Rather than using weapons as a way to protect himself and gain power, he's using them to protect his friends while sacrificing himself.

What if to break out of hell, you first need to break even? If they were sent to hell for specific reasons, maybe the answer isn't simply good acts or racking up "good points." But rather, to ascend you need to do acts that are the complete opposite of the actions that sent you down in the first place? To at least repay whatever "debt" landed you there in the first place, then maybe from there good points can be acquired to go to Heaven? What if that one bad thing you did acts as a block? And until it's removed it doesn't matter how many good things you do?

With the hotel the previous course of action was mostly banning things. Ban the weapons. Ban the eggs. Ban the bar. But the thing is some actions aren't inherently bad. We see with Carmilla that killing can be out of love and self defense. Things like BDSM can be intimate and relationship developing, or the idea can be horribly warped as a way to hurt others. Actions or tools aren't simply bad: but the intent and impact behind them can be, and that's what defines them.

Jumping to Loser, Baby really quick: the whole song is about owning who you are. In Husk and Angel's cases: the matter of redemption isn't simply to STOP gambling, drinking, sex, and drugs. But rather, doing it in a healthy way that doesn't harm others. Just cutting them off from their vices doesn't make them necessarily go away. Especially when they didn't have a choice in the matter. They need to change their own relationships with them and the way/reason they're used.

I just started think about this because what if someone else was in Sir Pentious' place? What if the only reason that the Sinner in the blimp made it to heaven is because it was SIR PENTIOUS? What if instead it was someone like Husk or Angel, who's "sins" aren't tied directly to creating/using weapons of mass destruction and commanding egg armies for the sake of power and self-defense.

[frizzle-mcshizzle]

what r your thoughts on forkle /gen

as a writer i think hes a very well written morally grey character, as a reader i hate his freaking guts here is the list i literally keep in my notes of why i hate him.

he broke into her room who knows how many times when she was a little girl (idc if he had REASONS its FREAKING WEIRD)

he asked Sophie to meet him (a grown man) on a island alone and when she took Keefe with her he told her she had to come in the cave with him alone

he just about left Dex for dead in the Neverseen hideout and only brought him because Sophie refused to go without him. Dex was a innocent child. Dex wasn’t just anyones child he was a member of the collectives child someone who he worked with side by side for years, and he was still willing to leave him behind (he later said he was going to back for him but like...)

Dex ended up with scars because he didn’t bring enough elixirs for him.

he thinks of Sophie as an accomplishment and doesn’t expect her to want him to think of her as anything more (Everblaze, Page 447.)

he calls her his moonlark. which sounds sweet until you realize that’s her project code name he’s literally calling her “my creation” aka “my weapon”

he will act very cryptic and only give out bits of information, just enough that she will look into what he was talking about then act proud and flatter her, saying things like “i underestimated you kids” when she and her friends figure out the thing he wanted her to know.

he will tell her about problems in the world making it sound horrible and hopeless, then saying "this is the thing we made you to fix, but that’s your choice"

he’s constantly switching from dehumanizing her because she is the Moonlark and it’s her job to change things and this is what she was created for. then treating like his child at the drop of a hat

excludes her parents from the conversations and tells her she has control over her life, not them, like she isn’t a young teen

he told a fourteen year old that if he and the rest of collective died Sophie and her friends would take their place, not care about what kind of pressure that would put on her. then admits to grooming Sophie and her friends to lead the Black Swan one day

he is constantly reading her mind and never lets her have her thoughts to herself but expects her to not read other peoples minds.

he put all this importance on Prentice and told a child that they where going to use her to brake into prison and almost got another child killed who didn't even need to be there (they could have done that without her they have dwarves)

finds it funny to exclude Sandor from conversations that could potentially put her in danger

had Sophie recruit other children, which is disturbing, because fine they don’t have a choice if she’s in danger but putting other children in danger and taking on missions is completely unnecessary, he could have done it himself or had adults do it.

Ignored tam being taken by the neverseen, and told them to focus on other things

Not to mention he basically took advantage of Emma Foster's health issues, knowing full well he'd be taking her child away from her and her husband at a later date. Sophie's human parents were done so dirty, and all they wanted to do was let her be a kid for as long as possible

[justjams2003]

The Desire to be Loved- 6

Summary: Love is Desire's first creation. As Cupid she shoots her arrows of love and rips them from people's hearts too. Occasionally, shooting a soulmate arrow. What does she do when her first Soulmate arrow in 100 years is between Cupid and Dream?

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x OFC Love/Cupid/Venus (you know how these beings have millions of names) (Also technically it could be an x reader because love is sort of anthropomorphic but in this story a she)

Warnings: Manipulation, threats, crying, cliffhanger, unedited, kind of like enemies to lovers, soulmate au, angst :(tell me if I miss any.

Word count: 1,8k+

Dividers by: @hyelita

Tags: @intothesoul @briskesby coffeebeforewater @i-voluntears @dreamingblueberries @idkamt @deniixlovezelda @lmg-stilinski24

Masterlist

The plane engine is loud in Lyta’s ears, but luckily everyone else is quiet, sleeping, trying to adjust to the difference in air pressure. Lyta doesn’t care, she’s too happy to turn her head to the side and smile, seeing her husband. “Maybe a trip to England is exactly what she needs.” His voice is just like she remembers. Even the way he speaks is the same.  

“She's sleeping. So, that's progress.” His brows furrow in the way Lyta’s made sure to memorise. “She hasn't been sleeping?” He cares so much, he cared so much. “No.” She sighs, her eyes fluttering, trying to keep him here as long as possible. Her heart fighting her mind. 

“She's been dealing with her mom's estate, trying to find her brother. Doing whatever she has to do to keep from thinking about the fact that she's all alone now.” He lifts his head looking at the sleeping girl, who’s been struggling to let go just as much as Lyta. 

He’s quick to disagree with her. “She’s not though.” Lyta tilts her head to the side, giving her husband a pointed look. “No, I know. And friends are great, but, uh…” She fumbles with her hands trying to explain what she means. As if interrupting her own ideal imagination. 

“What?” Her eyes fall to her hands, his tongue wetting his lips from the dry aeroplane air. “When you lose your parents, you suddenly realize it wasn't gravity keeping you on the ground all this time. It was knowing you were someone's daughter. Or sister. Or wife, in my case.” 

Lyta’s eyes snap to him, and suddenly the hurt is there again. She’s not his anymore. She’s not for anyone anymore. Friends aren’t forever like being someone’s everything. A friend always has an in-between plan that suddenly comes before you that lets you know forever is a lie. Hector feels the hurt then again too. He knows it wasn’t his choice, but he can’t help but apologise. 

“How are you? Are you okay?” Lyta chuckles at that question, her hands running through her hair. “Probably not.” Then Hector has to realise, he can’t be here. He can’t be talking to her. He can’t let her know that she’ll always be his. “Why do you say that?” The panic is like a piano in a heavy metal song. 

Then there it is for her too. The synth wave in this classical music dream that she’s concocted for herself. The hitch in her throat, the barbed wire that stops her from allowing the truth inside her. “Cause instead of being back at work, I'm on a plane to London, talking to my dead husband.” 

“Ma’am, ma’am?” It’s gone. It’s replaced by the sight of a girl who looks to be on the younger side by the way her cheeks round and her eyes sparkle. “I’m so sorry to bother you.” Her voice too, it matches her glittering apologetic smile beautifully. Her eyes focus, the overhead lights make her look like an angel looking down at her. 

She doesn’t stop smiling, trying to seem as approachable as possible. Her heart is fluttering with excitement, seeing Lyta finally able to see her. “Um, some guy just puked on my seat while I went to the bathroom...And, I feel so horrible to ask...” 

Then, the beautiful young girl looks at the seat next to Lyta. But, not at the seat. At the person Lyta just dreamt of sitting there. “Would you mind if I sat next to you, while they clean my seat?” As if she’s asking him and not her and Lyta feels like she’s going crazy. How could this stranger possibly be asking her ghost husband anything? 

But it looks so real. She smiles like she’s thanking someone without words and then eyes like the gold of her wedding ring fall back on her. And Lyta feels her heart palpitate in a way that someone her age shouldn’t. She sits upright and nods, “Yeah, yeah, sure, of course.” She mutters, stumbling over her words as she climbs out of the trance. 

“Thank you, thank you so much.” The young girl sits down to Lyta. She gets comfortable, sighing just like she’s seen the humans do. “I’ve never been on a plane before.” Lyta can’t help but furrow her brows at the wording but she doesn’t say anything about it. Maybe English isn’t her first language. 

“I won’t bother you, you can sleep.” It feels wrong and rude to sleep now. And something in Lyta so badly wants to talk with the girl some more. “No, no, it’s alright. So uh, London, what’s calling you there?” Lyta asks the first thing she can think of. The girl presses her lips together before she answers, clearly having to think about it. 

“Let’s say I’m meeting a new friend. And you?” Lyta looks over the girl to Rose who’s sleeping in her plane seat. “My friend, she’s looking for her little brother who went missing. I thought I could help.” The girl’s eyes go sympathetic, but there’s just something all-knowing behind them. 

She smiles, looks at Rose and then back to Lyta. “Oh, that’s beautiful.” Her eyes flick to the ring on Lyta’s finger. “You’re married?” She asks, but not in the way where she wants to know but as if she already does. “I was...my husband passed.” 

The girl, once again as if she already knew this. “It’s hard for the living to stop loving the dead. The humans love the hardest when they know they have to let go...” Again the girl tilts her head. But this time she smiles, like she’s making Lyta realise something. “But you don’t let go...I’m worried about your heart.” 

It should be the ramblings of a crazy woman, but it isn’t because she’s right. Lyta just doesn’t let go. She sees him when she sleeps when she opens her eyes. Cupid’s seen this happen to so many lovers before and it always ends in their heart being damaged. But now...now she can warn them. She can talk to them. 

“It’s going to hurt. But it’s going to leave a scar if you hold on.” Lyta just sits there staring at her. It’s like a profit speaking to her. Others have told her this before but she just doesn’t want to believe it. The way she speaks, the wisdom behind her eyes, the way she knows without knowing her... 

It feels too real. It feels hard to breathe in and even harder to breathe out. To let the air escape her because that’s all she’ll have left of this beautiful stranger who speaks to her heart. It feels like it’s exploding and her lungs are so full. Her gasps for air, force the tears from her eyes. 

Lyta shakes her head. “I can’t.” She wants to beg the stranger. Don’t make her forget. Don’t make her lose him again. But, what does this stranger have to do with her dead husband? “Did you...lose your partner too? You speak like you know.” 

She chuckles, wiping the tears from her cheek. “No, no. I’ve just seen it happen each time. It hurts me like it does you.” Is this beautiful stranger crying too? Crying with her? Crying for her? Crying because she has to, she has to cry because Lyta is hurt. 

They both just laugh, how silly. Crying with a stranger over nothing and everything on a plane full of sleeping people. Lyta wipes her tears off, again with another chuckle. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” The girl shakes her head as if she’s apologising. “I have to go.” 

“Lyta. Let go.” 

The sun shines down on Cupid’s back as she lounges on the beach in her bikini. She knows she should be busy, but it’s just such a lovely day out. And she is where she’s supposed to be. Following the one she worries about most. And she can’t find herself to worry about much else. 

She used the realm Dream gifted her, to make herself a few helpers. Not many. Just enough to carry out the minor tasks while she’s away. She won’t let them handle the soulmates, that’s too precious. But for now, her duties should be covered.  

But she can feel her as soon as she walks on the beach. She lowers her sunglasses to get a good look. An excited smile plays on her face. A friend of a friend. She’s quick to jump up, just as quick back in her normal puffy pink dress. No reaction from the humans, they can’t see. 

Her eyes follow Rose Walker like a hawk, who leaves her darkly dressed friend on the beach. She follows after, using her abilities to not struggle through the sand in her usual white boots. The girl bends over to talk with a bird. No one else seems to notice this. But someone else does seem to notice her, more someones than she knows... 

“Why are you talking to a bird?” She’s just a bit shorter than Rose Walker, even with her shoes. The girl is startled, quickly trying to cover. Cupid knows well that humans cannot talk to animals. “I-I, I wasn’t.” She furrows her brows, her bottom lip jutting out. “Yes, yes you were.” She tilts her head, looking down at Matthew. “That one.” 

Matthew recognises the girl instantly. He wants to speak, to call out to her and ask for help but his master holds his beak. Dream’s mind is already brewing with possibilities and plans. "Who are you?” Rose asks, realising that while she is breathtaking, she is a stranger. She holds out her hand, “I’m a friend of Lyta’s. We met on the plane.” 

Rose’s face seems to light up in recognition. “You’re real...?” Cupid’s heart beats in panic at the thought of being caught. No humans have ever seen her knowing who she is. And these two are the first she decided to talk to. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Rose just can’t stop staring. 

The light from the sunshine day falls on her making her look like that painting of the birth of Venus is talking to her in person. “I mean...you’re just so...” She can’t quite find the words. It’s like in the movies where the main character always has wind gently caressing their hair. 

From the very deep depths of Cupid’s mind like an old church bell that’s been hit for the first time in a hundred years, she hears his voice. Rough and deep and everywhere in her mind. “Cupid.” It’s like the first time he heard him speak to her. She’s jarred and it looks like she’s been knocked off balance. 

“Woah, are you alright?” Rose asks, instinctively reaching out to grab her, but Cupid is quick to catch herself. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry. I’m suddenly just a bit dizzy.” She mutters, holding her head, trying to play it cool. Matthew watches, his head tilted. “I think, I should go home, have a lie down.” She mutters, beginning to walk off in any distance that will hide her from Rose quick enough. 

Matthew thinks on his feet, or talons. “Morpheus will be there tonight.” Rose nods then makes her way back to Hal and Matthew to find Cupid. “Are you alright? What happened?” She’s leaning against a corner, still shaken by the sudden intrusion in her mind. How did he do that?  

“He called my name. I felt him almost in my mind.” The raven jumps around a bit. It’s like Dream is leaning over his eyes. Ready to crawl up his throat and talk to her himself. “Come, I’ll accompany you to him. I think the boss wants to see you.”  

If you want to be added to the taglist, just ask!

Part 5~Part 7 (coming soon)

[kingofthefortress]

An explanation

Tl;dr - this blog will most likely never come back. It will remain on what is essentially an indefinite hiatus unless something else ends up happening and I change my mind.

I left randomly, and want to explain why I did, properly.

If you don't know, I'm mod Rat. I was the second TADC askblog and shortly after the creation of the Kinger blog(which you are currently on) I made @zooooble, an askblog where I attempted to write as my interpretation of Zooble as opposed to Kinger, as they were two major comforts to me at the time(along with TADC as a whole).

Unfortunately, we got off to a rocky start pretty much immediately, with someone sending gore in my asks, leading to the asks being closed right after they opened. A bit later after asks were reopened, I started getting more and more odd asks - including animal abuse on Zooble's blog, and people being very gross about Kinger here and in some instances, me. This continued until I closed up the asks, which I originally didn't know would be permanent.

This ended up lining up horribly with my irl situation aswell, not to mention the fact that I was frequently disrespected in my asks. Someone even talked bad about me in Zooble's blog, thinking we were different mods.

Through all of this other mods were having lore happen to their characters, it got so overwhelming to have to keep up on anon blogs, TADC blogs, personal blogs I haven't and never will show here, it was making this feel like a chore.

Not to mention Zooble - because of several shitposts that I now regret, people were asking me and mod Soup(owner of the Gangle blog) to make Google canon. It was and never will be canon. It is a ship that now makes me uncomfortable and as I understand it, Soup aswell as they are literally in a relationship.

I didn't want this blog to get to the state it did. I just wanted to make jokey things, but it all got so complicated so quickly. It has been atrocious for my health, mental and physical. And I decided I need to stop worrying about this post. I wanted to make something like it months ago, but I didn't want to let people down. I don't care for this blog anymore.

I started a comic at some point in here, really its mostly a blur, but I ended up falling out of TADC as the third panel was being worked on. The whole Kinger wood rot arc was just something I made to make myself feel more included since other mods were doing lore with their respective characters aswell. I regret it - he would've been better as a silly character, like I started the blog with the intent to invision him as.

The TADC fandom was alright for awhile, but at this point, I am no longer interested in TADC, the characters, story, or these blogs.

The blogs were great when they started, when it was just some people having fun, but now, everything feels so odd. It's all different and not in a good way, not to the fault of the mods at all.

If you still want TADC askblogs(in the OG askblog group) -

@thecomicallytragicgangle is to my knowledge the most active, @jaxtherabbit is to my knowledge either on hiatus or inactive(though their blog is still fun to scroll through), @blue-tooth(Moon) I am unsure if they are active or not but they're an amazing artist and have a blog that's fun to go through, @theoneandonlysun is still active(I think), @cainetheringmaster is somewhat active, @theclownkaufmo(Abstractions) is a shared blog where to my knowledge there are still a few abstractions taking answers. There is of course askblogs not in this group, but these are the ones I was interacting with.

I believe @pomniii and @ragatha1 are inactive.

I will be floating around in some places in the internet, but now, this is my goodbye to this blog and all my other blogs on this account.

I guess this is just a lengthy post all to say:

Goodbye TADC. I hope you enjoyed this blog while it lasted.

[aicosu]

Pathologic headcanons? You mentioned having a lot of them

So fucking many I dont know where to start? Maybe with bigger ones? Then character ones?

The Town/Kin

- I actually played much of p2 first before playing 1 and then returning to finish 2. So I have a lot of attachment to the Kin, and Boddho and their pov.

-I think that Boddho is an empty nesting eldritch mother. That she either is like... Illuvatar from Silmarillion (from what my husbands told me) where she came or grew from earth and wanted to make specificslly humans, but made the worms and brides and shabnaks first at her version of the Valor, or their job is to prepare the world for her true children (humans). even as "excess materials" shabnaks excess bones, worms excess muscle, and brides excess blood. But she didnt expect them to grow out of their need for her. Steppe life does eventually evolve towards integrating with the settlement and she resents creations who can create towers to heaven without her. Hence plague. But again, boddho creates creatures who are individually sentient. Even some of the proto kin seem rebellious. So I imagine the plague too, is sentient with its own ideas and goals. Poor boddho seems a bit immature and frustrated that yes. Eventually, even the plague and kin will want to grow and elvove without her.

-or shes already dead. Love the dead boddho theory, thanks andrey stamatin. That maybe everyone who hears boddho is just hearing her talk from centuries ago cause shes to unfathomable and eldritch creature to speak to. Neat! I think it doesnt hold up in 2, since you see her (someones?) Heart beating but cool.

-i do think the proto humans have preferences but dont know what a preference even is. Theres obviously (in p2, i know p1 was more an obvious patriachal straightfoward thing) brides who prefer townsfolk and brides who prefer the steppe. There are worms who like the city people they make friends with, and shabnaks that feel fear but aspire to grow ans meet and learn langauge.

Daniil Dankovsky

-trans daniil just makes so much damn sense to me its stupid like its perfect. At first I thought maybe he was amab and experiencing gender envy at the women in the town, coming to a conclusion he's in denial of why he favors their company or feels a sort of kinship with. To me, women are to Daniil what children are to Artemy. His bound in 1 as the uptopians is eh to me, but yet anytime he is speaking with Lara or Yulia, even Aspity, there is a understanding, condescending, even familial, protective frustration he has thats so complicated.

-to me that works so well as his journey as afab. Only child. Born to a young dead mother and a military man who didnt want much to do with him.

-I imagine him pursuing college and medical school for a year before his father dies and he drops out to transition. Ive seen other fans of transkovsky say he invented hrt himself, but if I think about how medical was approached or even philosphized about in patho or the older days I think he approached it by killing singular nerves and doing invasive surgey. They werent super great at the hormone or brain level and its just more... danils style to think to himself "i will literally kill what i dont need or want" (and then wearing uterus trophies on his neck because he cant brag out loud)

-which leads me to my other headcanon that this secret invasive self experiments and his success at splicing himself gave him a bit of cancer or a debilitating "mystical" disease he refuses as mystical. While i do love daniil being pompous about defeating death just cause hes pompous, I also love the idea that he wants all his cake and flowers. He succeeded in defeating gender, birth, orientation, and now its making him die? How unfair. How horrible. No one will steal his time at finally being himself not even death.

-thanatica I see as a mask over that research, too. Cause he can not come out and show himself off to substantiate his achievements. The medical world would be too distracted by the social ques to care that, hey, I've stopped cell generation. I've propugated cells. I've made parts of a body grow that stopped in the womb. Its a breakthrough he cant discuss so hes hauling in dead bodies and reanimating skin with the same methods or stacing off tuberculosis with the same technique hes using to stave off his death disease and it give him all this internal, unvalidated, seething frustration that he cant just scream what a fucking genuis he is. (He does anyway but without that to back him up)

-I think he joins the military for a year or two and assumes the identity of a dankovsky son. And the military stupidly, weirdly, validates him in his identity but also hardens him the way war does. The way death does when you have soldiers dying on your medical table. Then goes back and finishes his degree before opening thanatica.

-i hc Daniil as a messy bisexual. I think pre transistion he was always attracted to women actually, and that also motivated him to a smaller degree of well, why not get married to a lovely lady. Why not be the head of my household. Why not conquer society and genetics and death and enjoy things I could not myself feel comfortable to portray, but want to covet.

-you know and he gets to busy to actually finally indulge in that and then gets to town on ghorkan and meets artemy burakh and is like, wait, no, stop, this isnt the plan dammit.

-but I do think also that's complicated when it comes to sex and love. I can identify aapects or a gradient of a sexuality to him. Not necessarily demisexual, but his identity and his mind can get in the way of desires or even, that it takes a specific amount of vulnerability that he avoids. So maybe it's trauma or his being on the spectrum. So in his journey of self-discovery, maybe he's been a lot of whatever "labels." I think so much of labels and identity play into his vast acknlowdgement of philosophy too. Why talk about sex at all if we arent also talking about society and death and culture and etc (que daniil stopping his one night stand mid sentence to lecture about the differences of breeding expectations in different economic structures or population.)

-I ship daniil with Burakh mostly, (stamatins and block too at times) but I also ship him with the Marble Nest bride at the stillwater, who I guess is like a projected OC of mine. (Shes a special model, one of the only ones wearing jewelry and also one of the only kin whose sweet to daniil? She also seems critical of her own culture "weddings are a sad thing for us". I have a million headcanons and ideas for them two, who I think he names her Theralydice (thera for theraputrix the assitants to aescluipis or healers, therayl for feral or wild, and dice for custome or law as well as a common form for femininenames) Something heretically latin and inappropriate and artemy shakes him stupid for naming a bride at all- "but how will I refer to the only reasonable one burakh") but I wont bore you with all that crack.

OTHER:

Sorry this has already gotten so long so ill just list random other stuff.

-I think burakh is a man of little words not cause he's shy or reserved but because hes very smart about his town. He knows that information and gossip spread like wildfire. And stating his ideas, thoughts, plans, TO ANYONE so plainly (as dankovsky does) means in another twenty minutes 6 other people might find out and stop him. It's in his best interest to act stupid and complacent. It's the best idea to shrug at young vlad and go "idk maybe" because saying yes or no would maybe mean making an enemy.

-I think there are two eldritch horros now one. Aside from boddho i think the mistresses are hearing something else out there in the ether. Same as those whispers to peter about building the polyhedron. Boddho from this planet or not, something in that void is wanting to come in and use her or the earths power to its own end. Town on Ghorkon seems like an open battery everyone wants to suck dry. And while the kains can talk a big talk about plans for nina or simon, I wouldnt be suprised if someone or something kicked their souls out and took over for itself.

-I 1000 percent think Aspity is the first outbreak in human form if that wasn't already established. But I also dont think clara is. But I do love the idea that it's possible to do. In the same way, maybe annaAngell occupies Willows body? Hmm.

-also all yes to everyone is just actually dolls, but then wheres the fun in hc-ing the world lore???