#youtuber imagine viner imagine

[taystrash]

Tay // 22 // Trying this writing thing again

If you’re interested, you can find me here

Previous Blogs:

IOAMB (kpop: bts, monsta x, got7, skz…)

Imagination-of-a-thirsty-weeb (anime: hxh, haiikyuu)

Imagination-of-a-fandom-slut (tv shows: teen wolf, tvd, twd…)

Masterlists, if you would like to see what’s in store:

BTS

Got7

MonstaX

How it started:

I started writing when I was 10, One direction had just debuted and I was in love. They’re how I discovered fanfiction. I never actually wrote for them myself, seeing no shortage of content for members x reader, or members x members, so I looked elsewhere. I started to get into Viners, YouTubers, and Magcon boys and I started writing for them instead. People loved it, I made au gif sets, and I honestly loved the interactions with the fics and between I and my readers. I would write day and night, hurting my shoulders, changing positions, at school thinking of writing, scribbling ideas down here and there. I abandoned that blog for another and that for another and that one to stop writing all together. All my blogs are still up and running, I’d take Teen Wolf requests on one, SKZ on another but I want THIS blog to be a truly multi-fandom blog. I tried to categorize everything, anime into one, kpop into another, I want access to everything all in one. So bear with me! I’m working to get it together! I’m excited to see what the future brings and even more excited to finally get to write again.

REQUESTS

They are open!

I currently am only going to pick back up a few fandoms, SKZ, HxH, and Teen Wolf. I will be writing for new shows such as JJK, AOT, BSD and Demon Slayer.

DISCLAIMER (not to be rude, mean, or mistaken)

I am a smut writer. I like rough, nasty, demeaning, aggressive sex and I will write about it! Please, be warned! Please, do not lecture me about it, you can find fluff, angst, and softer smut elsewhere, OR you can request it and I’ll write that for you and your tastes. I’m not here to judge and I hope no one judges me. I know it can’t be helped but I’m a nasty bitch and I want to be with other nasty bitches :((

Character List:

JJK

Sukuna

Gojo

Geto

Nanami

Shoko

Mei Mei

Toji

Choso

Mohito

Todo

Demon slayer

Giyuu

Rengoku

Muzan

Akaza

Obanai

Gyomei

Sanemi

Tengen

Kokushibo

Doma

Hantengu’s four demons

HxH

Hisoka

Illumi

Razor

The Phantom Troupe

Silva

BDS

Dazai

Fyodor

Akutagawa

Atsushi

Fukuzawa

Ranpo

Poe

Kunikida

Chuuya

Oda

Ango

Francis Scott

Tachihara

Juno

Sigma

Nikolai (clowns are sexy I swear)

Fukuchi

AOT

Eren

Armin

Connie

Jean

Floch

Levi

Erwin

Hange (will be written as they/them, you can decide whether it’s amab or afab.)

Sasha

Mikasa

Reiner

Teen wolf

Stiles

Scott

Parrish

Sheriff Stilinski

Melissa

Liam

Theo

Brett

Derek

Peter

I’ll write for every member of Stray Kids!!

Smut Games:

Feel free to pick a prompt or two to pair with a character/member

Smut Game 1 ( can be found as a link on previous stories but is no longer accessible)

Smut Game 2

Smut Game 3

Smut Game 4

Smut game 5

Happy Slutting <3

[amateur-selfshipper]

Tada! I’ve finally completed my Helluva Boss/Hazbin self insert for shipping with Vox! This is Jinx, who is the Hell equivalent of a Viner & Skit YouTuber a la ProZD. She likes to hang out on Earth and get into the meme culture, which makes her videos pretty popular with Sinners who arrived in Hell recently.

She sometimes feels out of place in the Succubi community being asexual, but she has some friends like Verosika (a whole story in and of itself). She actually met Vox and the other Vees through Verosika. I imagine that having friends who are much more well known than her would be something of a running gag with Jinx. She and Vox have a complicated friends/almost fwb/mutual crush that’s almost official type relationship.

Taglist✨: @freakyduckhoe, @candyheartedchy, @carnival-of-love

[olivedoesmagic]

Journal 102” Wallpaper ENgine olive brimstone occulltist art [Artist wendedwolf0 tumaart] francais english wallpaper by thatindiegamer

https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=2904977076

If I had a spot I’d be skinned alive. I think that is a message of my atonement. I learned to travel in time the next natural step to reality shifting and move between the contintuties of the french Olive Brimstone. I learned of being of made of clay, and I learned being the maker of the clay. It started simple. Space ship method. You take what you imagine a vibe to be an energy and mediate in a slow state, or clam state if you have ADHD, and you move the whole room like a spaceship to a random destination and suddenly your in anotherworld. An Alternate reality. I had to learn many things. Not to be biased towards that of pasta or pop culture. That tehre were people I disliked who knew more then me. That there were people egotistical and well known who I knew more then. That all magick was once ancient. And thus all magick was once SIMPLSITCILY ours and simplsiticly new.

What was in my head when I visited those towns? Infected by vodon meets the irish a plague like of zombies? A chainsaw top surgery. That only I and my friend who beleived in my methods LOE could verify to you? And when we parted per a foster of power, how restrained the worlds swapped to be? What if otherkin was reincarnation by BUDON. He woundnt lie to me about that, and the buddha did say as much. I have raped. Hazed. Ritualistically sacrtiticed. LYnced, and survived all for the sakes of my magick.

And in return i made a machine I call it a warp. Its a dream as it all starts but within it holds the rooms of tomorrow, all rooms towards painted or alive, where I myself may go. Not Zone’s Pandorlica. Not the jar of Pandora. Not teh Tardis of the Doctor. But rather a hallway similar to the concentration i was sent. Shooting targets with Roy Harper the one here in this reality, revealing my madness during SANTURNALIA too, and accused of indecency in greek robes in an an ambulance. I did the no more mama ritual, similar to that of that game. But I received little to nothing.

I wanted the world for myself. I married LOKI. I married HERMES. I was hope of olympus. AEOS the fusion of chrnos and apollo. I was ZAGEROUS of Olympus. Dionysus x Apollo. And I just wish that if they had vinerated me as ALEXIAN I knew why they kept calling me astounding. You don’t have to believe a word I say. Many never will. But I loved so many others. No matter myself how many times i tried to kill.

I forgave my rapitsts each and every one. I loved the taggen and the zeds of tomorrow. I missed vegas and I missed his bar mitzvah. But now their is a habbad and now it sells hallah. The peteah bread the ways of a damsen in distress loving someone who was under house arest. And Halsey was my publicity. IN the music industry wee’re tied together, this adam pazass wrote those ancient texts /j. And as a result I came up with her songs in a shift of NICO while smoking underage in a mental ward. Coming across crazy for the wrong generation. Its alexy neris.

How would i explain skipping stones?

Every soul has an embodiment. That creates its life force and its layers. And within lays a shell of its personhood like whom you could be or assumed. These shells can be cracked broken repaired rememended or shared. And most boat their shell is the embodiment inside falsely. The identity of the shell is the flavor to the layer. So like a peanut people are complimentacated as spirits. LIke rain and water and wind and storms. And so when an identify is presented one shell with a unique flavor may steal the seasoning. An identity, a personification, a rational. And that is what is otherkin is about.]

Use an earthen filter. Humans look a little odd.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZmPQD-5tCw 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BV_aMiRqMS4 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOI6CQC1joc&t=9s

Youtuber diongoespew current name braincake. Theirs nothing crazy about pop culture magick. YES the OLD WAYS are forgotten and important. DID YOU FUKING KNOW BITCH? That they preserved them via FICTION? Man you must moron to not even fuck around and find out. Sincreely Occeair’s golem. OLive Oliva Remy Brein Brimstone.

they always ask me if im content, if i am satisfied but i promise you i shall never be. And when i started shifting again i saw the multiverse for what it was, a mirror here a crack there. Being fractured across space and time via zone morgan zag felix and my own methods. Copies upon copies of us in the multiverse. And now im going back togehter shifting every other night. IT was like dragons, it was that of dragons i had raised. A puppy mill like in slideres a birthing joint i lived through. Being kind here and quen there and learning that that pushed forward alternate reincarnates that only a changling could solve. Myabe got off his ass he woudnt of bullied adam off witchtock. maybe if you remembered your maytsprit. A worwld where i was enslaved was here and how i ruled there peacefullly.

Maybe you should admit your not that original? Ay tough guy.

-Olive Brimstone

4:59 PM

4/2/2023

[leilakisakabiri]

Drunk Thoughts (d.d)

plot: the reader gets drunk and confesses some things to David. 

warning: none just pure fluff mf

prompt(s): 

❝ the world is less scary when i'm with you. ❞

❝ everything is poetry when you’re drunk. ❞

❝ i’m so glad i met you. ❞

❝ i don’t want to feel this way about anyone else. ❞

SEND REQUESTS 

words: [550]

You were officially drunk. There was no denying that as you stumbled around the club, Zane who was just as drunk, hell probably even drunker than you, walking alongside you. 

“I-I need to find David,” You hiccuped handing your red solo cup to Zane, who gave you a thumbs up before chugging your unfinished drink in one go.

You stumbled some more around the bar, till you found David in the dead center of the dance floor recording Ilya acting insane. You made your way over to them tripping over your feet and bumping into a couple of frat boys in your hurry to get to David. 

“Sor-sorry,” You giggled before your eyes met David’s as he gave you a questioning look. Then you suddenly remembered why you had even gone on your super top secret mission, to find David. 

You shuffled over to hip, throwing your hands around his neck and peppering his face with kisses, “BUBBA! Hey. Hi. What’s up? You Gucci?”

He laughed pulling you into him as he stopped recording, “As a matter of fact I am Gucci Y/N.’’

You pulled back from him, arms still loosely wrapped around his neck, looking at him in awe, “Oh my god Dave, that was so poetic.” 

You felt his body shake as he giggled like a child, “Everything is poetry when you’re drunk babe.”

You grinned, “I missed you, can we please go outside. I want cuddles so bad.” 

He chuckled, “Y/N I saw you 15 minutes ago.” 

“Too long,” you protested pulling him outside with you. 

You lay down on the grass, motioning for David to do the same.

“It’s wet though,” he whined, begrudgingly laying next to you when you gave him a playful glare.

You both lay on your backs, shoulders pressed together as you quietly looked at the stars glowing in the pitch black night sky.

Finally, you broke the silence, “I’m so glad I met you.” 

He glanced at you, “I’m glad I met you too.” 

You shook your head, “No, like I’m really really happy I met you. Before you my life was a mess, I had no idea what I wanted to with my life, I had no support, I felt all alone and it sucked. Then by some miracle you came into my life and you just helped, it wasn’t really one thing, just the way you made me feel I guess-” you cut yourself off, taking a deep breath, “I-I guess what I’m trying to say is that the world is less scary when I’m with you. You feel like home to me David.”

Now he turned to face you completely, his brown eyes staring directly into yours, “Now that was poetic.” 

You giggled rolling your eyes playfully at him. A soft grin adorned his features as he reached to brush a strand of your hair away from your face, looking at you with so much love on his face that you had to look away to stop your heart from convulsing. “You feel like home to me too Y/N.” 

You sighed in content as he leaned his body towards yours, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug. 

“I don’t want to feel this way about anyone else.” You mumbled against his chest, his grip tightened around you as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, 

“You won’t. Not if I can help it.”

[theimagineparadise]

Imagine being Sam and Colby’s best friend. 

[atragedyreally]

After the Tiddy Purge of December 17 2018, tumblr users integrated to the YouTube comments sections

(comment found on this video)

[sassycassie-s-writing]

In the Shadows

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Vine/YouTube + Avengers - Thomas Sanders (/Elixir), feat. @moonlight-lyrics/Wonder-Pool

Rating: PG

Original Idea: Some old Tumblr post about Clint and Natasha that I changed up.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) A special welcome-back to Elixir and Wonder-Pool! I missed them. Told you they’d be back in a better one-shot. This one is slightly shorter than my usual fic length but some of the ones coming up are LOOOOONG.

^^^^^

Thomas and Lyric glanced at each other over their shoulders as they continued to prowl, back-to-back, through the darkness. Lyric’s midnight-blue shield on her arm made their brown eyes glint with hints of green. Thomas’ weapon was held loosely in his hands. He really didn’t like weapons. He was a healer—and a good one at that. But he wasn’t like Lyric with her psychically-generated shields and any other weapon she could come up with. He had to have real equipment.

“Hear anything, Wonder-Pool?” he whispered.

Lyric shook her head. “Nope. You?”

“Nothing. Which worries me.”

“Why?” Lyric hissed.

“Because,” Thomas replied, “it means they’re stealthy as heck—and if we have any chance at beating them, I’ll be surprised.”

“Don’t be such a Negative Nelly, Elixir,” Lyric admonished. “We can beat them. We just may have to be a little… creative.”

“I'm not creative when it comes to combat,” Thomas commented, still whispering.

Lyric couldn’t help but snort. “Well, now’s a good time to learn,” she hissed jokingly.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

They walked carefully, rotating who was in front, keeping a sharp eye out for their opponents. The darkness was a little too absolute—even with Lyric’s shield sending out its dark glimmer. Actually, the shield was kind of a disadvantage with its light blotting out the darkness around their own eyes—like trying to see someone at night through the shadows over a bright electronic screen, be it a laptop or phone.

Tension built up in the atmosphere as nothing continued to happen—which was a strange sentence in Lyric’s head, but nothing was happening. She pondered getting rid of her shield in hopes of her eyes adjusting. Maybe then she and Thomas would be able to see their opponents.

She sighed. “I'm taking the shield down,” she whispered as they rounded a corner, carefully watching each other’s backs.

“Be careful,” Thomas warned. “If you get hit, it’s gonna hurt.”

Lyric winked at him over her shoulder. “I know.” There was a heartbeat’s pause. “But if I'm as good as I think I am, I should be able to get the shield up before any major harm comes to the both of us. I just want to be able to see.”

“Then make a ball of light. You're good at that.”

“As evidenced by me wandering into your room when I turn left instead of right to go to the bathroom?” she teased.

“Exactly,” Thomas agreed sarcastically.

“No. I can’t make a ball of light without making a target that says ‘Here we are! Come get us!’ for anyone to see. I want to be able to see with my eyes adjusted to the darkness,” she explained. Thomas took one hand off his weapon to lift it in surrender.

“Your choice dear,” he remarked, using the endearment sarcastically. It earned him a gentle but jabbing elbow in the ribs.

Lyric glanced at her arm. The midnight blue shield twinkled slightly before fading out of existence with a starry wink. She blinked a couple times, watching as vague shapes loomed from the shadows. She pressed her back more firmly against Thomas’, listening intently for movement. Where were their opponents? They couldn’t stay hidden forever! They didn’t have invisibility powers! She whispered to Thomas as much. He snickered but didn’t reply.

A set of metal stairs appeared before them. Thomas volunteered to go up first, but Lyric shook her head. She couldn’t go up a set of stairs backwards very well, so she took the front position, linking her free arm that wasn’t clutching the one normal weapon she carried with Thomas’ free arm.

It helped in moments like this that he was left-handed and she was right-handed because their free arms were on the same side instead of opposite with their backs together.

Both Thomas and Lyric fought to keep their breathing steady and silent. Hearts were racing and chests were tight, perceiving the tension bleeding through the air better than air conditioning on a hot day. Neither of them liked admitting they were nervous to the other, but they were. Of course they were. Even if they didn’t want to be—it was a natural reaction.

That didn’t mean either of them had to like it.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

Familiar noises echoed around the warehouse.

Thomas yanked Lyric behind a metal-and-concrete support pillar as something sailed through the air where they’d been standing and impacting the ground. Thomas and Lyric clung to each other behind the pillar, holding onto arms with hearts pounding on adrenaline and eyes wide.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” an eerie voice singsonged from somewhere up above—in the rafters. “You can’t hide forever…”

“The rafters!” Lyric hissed to Thomas. “That’s where they’ve been hiding.”

Thomas sighed. “Why am I not surprised?” he grumbled grumpily. He hefted his weapon, hunching his shoulders forward and dropping into an instinctive fighting stance, lifting his weapon to a better position for firing. “Well, Wonder-Pool, it’s been an honor doing this with you.”

Lyric snorted. “You too, Elixir.”

“Ambush?”

“We can try.”

They readied their guns and ran out from behind the support column, battle cries ripping themselves from their throats.

Thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk!

Rapid-fire shots echoed out across the warehouse as four sets of weapons fired off all at once.

Lyric’s shield blazed to life once more—but too late.

“Dang it!” Thomas exclaimed at the same moment Lyric swore loudly. She whirled around to look to her friend in a panic.

A bright splatter of pink was smooshed over his vest—along with a green one, another pink one, and an orange one. They all glowed neon in the black lights.

Lyric glanced down. She had a yellow splotch on her right ribs and a big purple one over her left arm.

But they didn’t have time to dwell on it—because the Spiders were dropping from the ceiling.

Peter and his girlfriend landed lightly on the balls of the feet, laughing, black clothes also marred by paintballs. The shooting commenced afresh, four people all cackling and shouting—all powers allowed. Thomas wouldn’t even be bruised when they were finished due to his healing powers. The other three were just difficult to land hits on. Peter had incredible reflexes, his girlfriend’s weren’t too bad—if slightly diluted from her boyfriend’s—and Lyric had a shield made of pure psychic energy.

When the four of them ran out of ammo, they ceased their war, all laughing.

“Nice shots!” Thomas exclaimed.

[buckthefutcher]

lol a recruiter just contacted me to work for KSI’s YouTube group thing. Imagine having to hype fake fights with ex-viners for a living. No thank you

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Monsters in the Closet

Title: Monsters in the Closet

Summary: “You’re so much nicer when you’re bigger.” 

 Roman knows he can’t change the past. He can’t change the way he treated Virgil horribly, driving him to feel the only way he could be accepted was to be the villain of the story. But he can sit there and feel guilty knowing he is not worthy of any of the trust this young Virgil has placed in him. 

(Part of the Tiny Virgil verse, takes place after An Itsy Bitsy Nightmare)

Word-Count: 2.7k

Pairing: Brotherly Prinixety

Warnings: Guilt, Panic/Anxiety, Treating Someone Wrongfully in the Past, Deaging, Hurt/Comfort

This part of a very late birthday present for @theeternalspace! I’m so sorry this took so long, please forgive me and I hope you enjoy! :)

-

Roman lets out a sigh and opens his eyes. Virgil is still snuggled close to his chest, asleep again after waking up what appeared to be a horrible nightmare. Roman can’t find himself to fall back asleep. His mind refuses to settle, refuses to let go of what Virgil said to him moments ago. 

“You’re so much nicer when you’re bigger.”

The words rumble in Roman’s mind like that of a great and fearsome thunderstorm. How could it not? All the more confirmation that regardless of the unfounded trust young Virgil placed in him, he’d still expected to inevitably be treated terribly.

And that? The guilt of that stings deeper than any sting of the blade or a bandersnatch’s ferocious bite.

It also makes him wonder what exactly the Ankle-Terror thought was going on. Kids aren’t stupid. Naïve, yes, but that’s different from being stupid. They’re creative and innovative in ways adults couldn’t dream to be. Plus, they tended to love engaging in-depth conversations about Disney. 

Sometimes, Roman misses the days when Thomas was a kid. Back when they were free to run around in the backyard and reimagine the swings as a spaceship or the underneath of the trampoline as the lair of an evil sorcerer. Back when they weren’t bound by inane things such as time constraints and the logistics of translating an idea into a real-world possibility. 

He could get Thomas and the others roped in a fantastical make-believe for hours. Weeks even of stretching an incredible imaginary world to its limits. The only things that ever stood in their way was the outside forces of school, parents and bedtime.

Nowadays, the reminiscing with a tinge of regret. There always had to be villains to fight, you see. An evil mad scientist. A corrupt king. A greedy dragon. The list goes on and on. He never ever played the villain. He’d always cast himself and Thomas as the heroes. Logan and Patton were the supporting stars. Virgil and the rest? The villains through and through. 

Virgil at this age would be used to this treatment. Rather than in his rightful heroic role as Protector, Defender, Watcher of All Perceived Threats--he played roles such as a wicked sorcerer who cast fear and disgrace upon the entire kingdom with his heinous sorcery.

He took to the roles without much grumbling. Oftentimes, he didn’t perform to young Roman’s expectations. Roman would chastise his performances, critiquing every bit. He wasn’t ever scary or evil enough for a Side responsible for making Thomas scared of monsters under his bed.

Virgil would also veto actions such as climbing super high up a tree and using it as a crow’s nest for a pirate ship. Much to Roman’s dismay, the others would side with him. Logan because Thomas could break a bone if he should fall and Patton because their parents wouldn’t approve. Thus making Virgil a major downer at times in Roman’s eyes and all the more deserving of the villain title.

It wasn’t until Thomas was older, closer to middle school, that Virgil started lashing out. He refused to play along, slinking off to sulk in his room. His influence had also grown and suddenly it wasn’t just monsters under the bed anymore--the monsters were everywhere. Homework, Teachers, Friends, Family. Roman worked overtime to help Thomas escape to worlds unfettered by these fears.

Of course, back then, he presumed this was Virgil fully showing his true colors as an antagonist. Thomas himself believed it, wishing vehemently for Virgil to just disappear. It was Roman’s responsibility, nay his purpose, to make Thomas’s dreams and desires come true. He was the Fairy Godmother to Thomas’s Cinderella. So for years and years he’d pursued this dream, desperate to make Thomas happy, proud even.

Now, he knows better. He knows that Virgil is more than just Anxiety, just like Roman and the others are more than what their title implies. He is vigilant, he keeps Thomas safe from external threats. Sometimes he can be overzealous, but he means well. And shutting him out isn’t the answer. It never was. 

With all that in mind, he wonders if the Boy Terror thinks this is one of Roman’s elaborate make-believe games. Roman could easily picture a younger him coming up with a make-believe game involving himself and the others being adults. True, Thomas back then liked envisioning himself as a kid defeating the evil dragon like kids his age did in the media he watched. 

But all kids at some point wonder what it’d be like to be an adult. They imagined themselves in the most exciting professions that made a real impact on the world. Then they’d grow up and very few of them made it to such professions.

(Except Thomas of course. Roman is incredibly proud of him and his accomplishments as an Ex-Viner turned Youtuber. Yes, they are still far from achieving feats such as Hollywood or Broadway, but still! For a while Thomas had to settle for a real, sensible job such as a chemical engineer. While science interested him, it didn’t drive him the way that creative pursuits such as singing and acting had. Thomas is lucky to be able to have a platform to do what he loves. Roman tries reminding himself of this during incredibly rare moments of insecurity.)

Kid Fright must be ecstatic about this. For possibly the first time in his life Creativity is including him in a game without making him the villain. Adult Virgil doesn’t talk much about the past--the few times Roman has tried to breach the topic it’d been an instant shutdown. 

But Virgil has always cared for them, even before they’d all realized this. He must’ve taken any part Roman gave him out of a desperation to be with them and keep them safe. It sickens Roman just thinking about it. He doesn’t know how Virgil stayed strong for so long. Roman doesn’t know if he could’ve lasted a day in Virgil’s place.

He is probably also terrified and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Regardless of his age, Virgil always expects the worst out of any scenario. Even now that’s been a year since he’s been accepted among the core sides that make up Thomas. He can’t help it, it’s in his nature. Roman can’t blame him for it. One year isn’t enough to undo the damages that the other twenty-nine years caused.

One thing is for certain: if he does think this is one of Roman’s make-believe games, he must think Thomas is still a kid. And Roman’s not sure if he should let Virgil know any different. In fact, it might be best to keep Virgil distracted while the others work to find the solution to this strange vexing problem. Because he knows Virgil won’t take it well to finding his host all grown-up. He thinks that none of them would in his place.

So he’ll keep Fall Out Kid safe away in the mindscape and continue being the Prince he deserved. He’ll allow Virgil to be the hero and he’ll play all the other roles. Sidekick, damsel-in-distress, villain--if he must. It’s silly, but he’s almost buzzing with excitement at all the worlds they could explore from within the common area. Cowboys, Spaceship, Space Cowboys. The possibilities are endless!

A small hand tugs at his sleeve, tugging him away from his thoughts altogether. He looks down at the inquisitive eyes slightly shrouded by a mop of dirty blond hair.

“Yes, little prince?” He says, trying to blink away the prickling sensation in his eyes. 

He refuses to cry again in front of the Little Shop of Terror. He knows he will have to confront his bubbling guilt and sorrow at some point, but for now he must push it aside. He is used to this. Being a hero means sometimes remaining strong and not showing vulnerability to loved ones.

“M’hungry.” Virgil murmurs into his chest, little arms wrapped around Roman’s neck. It’s almost endearing with how much he resembles a baby possum clinging to their mother. Roman isn’t used to a Virgil so physically affectionate. 

Virgil is like a feral cat. You couldn’t hug or pat him on the shoulder without warning. You had to ask and very rarely did he accept, even if it came from Patton. No, the best way is to let him initiate it. Let him lean his head against your shoulder, or his leg overlapping your own during a movie night. 

You also don’t acknowledge it and by not acknowledging it, Virgil then inches his way more until it grows into a proper hug. Then he would withdraw and promptly act like nothing  happened. Like you were to forget the interaction ever occured in the first place.

Logan has a theory that it’s because Virgil is the Fight-or-Flight instincts and physical affection lowers his guard in a way he isn’t completely comfortable with. Roman now has a theory that it’s a lot more heartbreaking than that. 

“You’re hungry?” Roman asks, attempting to steer his mind out of Despairing Drive and into Present Place. 

 A small growling noise occurs and Jack Smallington ducks his head down, embarrassed.

Roman isn’t entirely surprised considering that it’s been about eight hours since they discovered approximately five-year-old Virgil in the place of grown-up Virgil. Who knows how long he’d been like that, alone in his room, before that. Virgil also rarely eats so the poor kid probably woke up hungry. 

Roman feels so stupid. If it’d been Patton or Logan watching him, the first thing they would’ve made sure is if he was hungry. Because kid or not, it isn’t in Virgil’s nature to be self-advocating. That type of stuff freaks him out. Yet another reason Roman is completely unqualified to watch over Virgil. 

“Okay,” Roman breaths in, smiling, “thanks for letting me know, big guy. To the kitchen at once!”

With that, he hoists Virgil up, settling him on top of his shoulders. There’s a squawk of surprise and Roman’s almost worried until it turns into a gleeful giggle. When Roman lets out a neigh, pretending he’s a horse, Virgil’s giggles grow louder.

“You’re not a horse,” Virgil says.

“Neigh I am!” Roman says, “I am your trusty steed and we’re embarking on a perilous-but-completely-safe journey to the kitchen!”

He treks towards the kitchen, clicking his tongue in an imitation of a horse clip-clopping along. 

“Faster,” Virgil urges, resting his hands on top of Roman’s head.

“Faster?” Roman asks, almost stopping in surprise. 

“Yeah!” Virgil insists, “We gotta get there as fast as possible before any monsters come and eat us!”

“Never fear,” Roman says, “For I shall get us there before any monster even thinks of gobbling us up!”

With that Roman quickens his pace, ensuring he had a firm hold onto Virgil to keep him falling off. 

 “Faster, faster, faster!” Virgil chants in an anxious yet excited tone, “I think I see one!”

“Oh?” Roman turns his head back, “Oh, I see him too! Neigh, we better hurry!”

There isn’t an actual monster there. No sharp fangs or numerous eyes glaring menacingly in their direction. He can’t tell if Virgil is making up a game or if he actually believes there is one there. Either way, Roman is Creativity. If there’s one thing he knows best, it’s how to combat imaginary foes. Such as reaching the threshold of the kitchen.

With one great bound, he makes it onto the black-and-white checkered tiles.

“Aha! Now no monsters can attack us while we feast in the dwelling of this noble kitchen!” Roman grins, setting Virgil atop the kitchen counter before jumping up to sit beside him.

Virgil beams up at him, face wide with utter delight and awe. Roman is left dumbfounded at this. Even as a kid, Virgil had been very closed-off with his emotions. So shy and distrustful of everyone and everything. But here he looks at Roman like he’s some great hero or something.

 ‘How,’ Roman wonders, ‘how can you look at me like this when I’m the obstinate villain of this story?’

“Princey,” Virgil swings his legs, “won’t Dad be upset if he finds us sitting on the counter?”

Roman blinks. At first he thinks Virgil is referring to Thomas’s father until he remembers Patton also goes by Dad. For the longest time, Pat had even been insistent that was his name. In the way that young children believe their parents’ real names really are Mom and Dad. 

“Well,” Roman says, offering a pinky, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Okay.” Virgil hesitates before interlocking his tiny pinky with Roman’s.

“Excellent! Now what would you like to eat?”

“Ummmm, I--I don’t know.” Virgil bites his lips, eyes flickering around the kitchen. Roman’s heart squeezes at this. He should’ve known such an open-ended question would set his anxiety off. They’ve learned recently that it was better giving Virgil the option of clearly-defined choices rather than vague ones.

“Would you like grilled cheese or spaghetti?” He asks kindly instead. 

“Grilled cheese? With applesauce?” Virgil doesn’t meet his gaze, as if afraid Roman will condemn his choices.

Roman smiles, “Your wish is my command.” 

He could’ve just snapped the food into existence right then and there. A few years back, it would’ve been enough to suffice. But as much as the Sides influence Thomas, the same holds true the other way around. Thomas once saw a fanart of Patton cooking breakfast for the sides and the idea stuck.

 Now Roman could still summon fully prepared meals but they weren’t super filling. Roman didn’t mind too much; contrary to popular belief (Logan) cooking could be a very creative endeavor. As Thomas’s creativity he could make up steps to dishes and still have them turn out perfect in the end. He may or may not enjoy it simply because it frustrated Logan to no end. 

He hops off the kitchen counter, snapping a finger. Instantly cabinet doors magically open as the ingredients and the materials he needed floated out onto the countertop beside the stove. Okay, so he cheated a bit, but just because the others lacked a little imagination didn’t mean he couldn’t bend reality in a place where reality is inconsequential. 

Roman turns to Virgil, unable to hide his smile at Virgil’s gobsmacked expression.

“Here, you can help put butter on the bread,” He tells Virgil, handing him a butter knife.

Grilled cheese sandwiches are a quick and easy meal. Before too long, Roman hands the kid a plate with a plain grilled cheese cut in halves and a cup of prepackaged apple sauce. 

“Thank you,” Virgil squeaks out before digging in.

“Of course.” Roman says, resisting the urge to ruffle the Little Terror’s hair. Instead he takes a bite of his own grilled cheese. Admittedly, he went a bit overboard with his own grilled cheese sandwich; three different types of cheese with lettuce, tomato and pickles. He isn’t quite sure if he’s a fan of the pickles but ah well. So it goes when in the pursuit of creativity.

They eat on top of the kitchen counters with relative silence. Roman hums a bit between bites of grilled cheese. Halfway through, he notices Virgil sending him glances when he thinks Roman isn’t looking. The kid squirms a bit in place, his face twisting in apprehension. 

“Is there something troubling you, Little Prince?” Roman asks at last.

“Princey, where are the others? A--are they okay?!” 

Oh. Oh, of course. Roman’s heart aches knowing how much Virgil worries and cares for everyone, even at such a young age. He’s so quick to reassure him that he doesn’t even pause to think about the phrasing of his words.

“They’re perfectly fine, rest assured. Logan is shut away in his room reading like the insufferable nerd he is and Patton is simply checking up on our dear Thomas--”

“Thomas?” Virgil breathes in, eyes bright with alarm. His shoulders raise to his ears like hackles raising on a frightened cat.

It is at this moment Roman knew that he messed up.

“Virgil, wait--” Roman pleads, attempting to place a placating hand on his shoulder. 

Roman is too late. His hand meets air as Virgil disappears in front of him with a loud crackle. All that’s left is a plate of half-eaten grilled cheese clattering to the countertops and a terror that shakes the entirety of the mindscape. 

[sentient-stove]

sometimes I literally am floored by how smart thomas sanders actually is. like, when you think of it, getting a degree in STEM is hard anyways and then he just has a degree in chemical engineering or something?   can you just imagine being in one of his classes, like, ‘oh look, it’s that one guy from vine.’  and then it just hits you that this semi famous dude from vine was in your thermodynamics class and it’s not a joke. i don’t know, i just find it cool that yeah, he’s famous, he’s got these bomb dad jokes and sure, he’s got a pretty original youtube series, but he’s got a degree in a science that most people wouldn’t pursue. just wow, he’s really smart.  and then when you look at some of the content he produces and it covers a lot of areas intellectually.  i’m just saying that on the surface, he may just look like a youtuber/ex-viner (rip vine), but he’s probably one of the smartest people you could meet.

[sassycassie-s-series]

Enchanted Castle 2

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Vine/YouTube/Thomas Sanders feat. danisnotonfire & AmazingPhil

Rating: PG

Notes: (Masterlist) This has taken a long time. Sorry. Life got in the way. ( @welcometoriversworld I might start causing your death again, sorry.)

Chapter 1

^^^^^

The sun was going down by the time Napoleon pulled to a stop. We were approaching an area where snow had already begun to fall.

In June.

The horse neighed and reared up a bit. I barely held on. “Come on, Napoleon!” I exclaimed. “We have to save Papa!”

After blowing a raspberry, Napoleon continued, but this time at a careful trot.

I became exceptionally grateful that I had brought a cloak as the snow accumulated in my hair. It was getting cold—in June.

But the chill went right to the bone when I heard the wolves howl.

Napoleon whinnied—a high-pitched, terrified sound—and took off down the path. I bent low to his neck, feeling his mane whip my face. He ran through the menacing, snowy woods. I watched for the trees to thin, but they didn’t.

However, they stopped abruptly when we reached a fifteen-foot high stone wall.

An ornate wrought iron gate was hanging open. Napoleon slid through it.

I let him guide himself through an elaborate maze made of hedges that somehow remained green under the layer of white frost.

Looming over the hedge and the wall and the garden was a massive castle.

My jaw dropped.

Once upon a time the castle was probably a grand palace—luxurious and beautiful. But as I rode towards it, I could see that hadn’t been the case for some time. It was missing chunks from the walls and some of the gargoyle-like statues were broken. The stone it was made from was worn and stormy grey though looked like once it could have been purer—like maybe it was covered in dirt or soot.

After only a few more minutes, Napoleon pulled to a stop at some stairs.

I leapt off the horse’s saddle and bolted up the stairs, my boot heels clacking on the stone.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door.

It creaked open.

Gulping, I stepped inside, pulling the strings on my cloak to release the bow so it could hang looser around my shoulders. My heart was pounding so loudly from taking the stairs two at a time and adrenaline from my fear of losing my father that I could hear it in my ears.

“Papa?” I called tentatively. “Are you here? Papa?”

A fire blazed in a hearth wider than I was tall off to my right, giving me enough light to look around at the entrance hall.

It was huge and beautiful, if a bit faded and crumbling. Gold leafing on accents, marble staircase that split in two halfway up to make a circle meeting in a second-floor balcony with doors on either side that presumably led to different wings of the castle, pillars of polished stone that appeared to be marble but I couldn’t quite tell, ornate carvings in the wood of the walls and furniture. It was more magnificent than anything I'd ever seen in my entire life.

But I didn’t have time to admire the beauty of the castle. I had to find my father.

“Look! It’s a girl!”

“Yes, I can see it’s a girl!”

“What if she is the one?”

“The one what?”

“The one who will break the spell!”

The conversation was hissed between two British voices—and given how creepy the seemingly abandoned castle was, it wouldn’t have surprised me if it was all in my head.

But I spun around anyway, my messy hair whipping my eyes.

“Who said that?” I demanded, heart still racing.

There was no one there. Just a mantel clock and a lit candelabra sitting on an end table next to a cushy armchair by the fire.

The candelabra was lit. Someone had to be around to light it. So someone must have been talking.

Slowly I approached the armchair, wondering if one of the voices was sitting in it but I couldn’t see them because the chair was turned towards the fire with its back to me. I was up on tiptoe, making sure the clicking of my boot heels wouldn’t be heard.

There was no one in the armchair.

I heard coughing from somewhere up the stairs.

Gasping—that sounded like the way Papa coughed whenever he caught a cold—I snagged the candelabra from the table and took off after the sound, up the marble staircase and off to the left. I'd return the candelabra to its place on the end table when I was getting my father out of this gigantic, gorgeous, somehow-hidden-from-my-nearby-village-for-years-with-no-one-noticing castle.

I wandered the corridors aimlessly, peering at the paintings and suits of armor as I tried to make my way towards wherever that coughing was coming from.

A door creaked open behind me—I hadn’t even seen it in the relative darkness and the fact that it appeared to be designed to blend in with the wallpaper. I whirled, making the candles’ flames sputter before resuming their pleasant yellow-gold glow.

“Is someone there?” I asked. “Please. I'm just looking for my father. I don’t mean any harm.”

As I spoke, I approached the door and pushed it open properly.

A dark staircase spiraled up one of the towers I'd seen from the outside. My heart rate picked up again in anticipation. I was trying to get control of my fear, but I wasn’t sure it was working.

More coughing came from somewhere up the stairs.

“Papa?” I took the spiral steps two at a time, hitching my skirt up to my knees so I wouldn’t step on it.

In a little alcove of the pillar that made the center of the spiral, a mantel clock just like the one on the end table downstairs sat, not ticking.

Why someone wanted a clock in a spot like this, I'd never know. It seemed weird.

When I got to the top of the stairs, it felt like I'd been climbing for hours. I hadn’t, but I was much more of a reader than an athlete. I didn’t want to admit, but in the moment when my heart was pounding in my legs from the exertion, I was actually a little jealous of Gaston. Panting, with my tangled hair hanging in my face, I looked around.

It was dark, but I could see what looked like a cell against the wall.

“Papa?” I asked again, this one more relieved than panicked.

“Oh, my darling girl! You have to get out of here!” my father exclaimed. I reached through the bars of the cell and took his hand.

“Your hands are freezing! I have to get you out. What are you doing here?”

“No time to explain. You have to leave. I'm here and there’s nothing you can do to change that. But you have to get out before he realizes you’re here!”

“Who?” I hissed, setting the candelabra down to take my father’s hand in both of mine in an attempt to warm it up. My father was shaking his head, terror-stricken and refusing to look at me. His blue gaze was fixed on something over my shoulder.

Slowly, I turned to look.

A giant, hulking shape was lurking in the shadows outside the small circle of light the three candles gave off. “Who are you?” I demanded, voice sounding a lot braver than I felt.

“The master of this castle,” a deep, rumbling voice answered.

“Why have you locked him up?”

“He stole from here.”

“A rose!” my father protested.

I lifted my chin. “I asked him to bring me a rose. Don’t punish him for that. Punish me.” I had no idea where this courage was coming from, but I figured if I didn’t question it too much, it wouldn’t give out on me. Was I still scared? Yes. But my father was getting sick. If he didn’t get to the village physician soon he could get a lot worse. So was I willing to take his place? Absolutely.

“You… you would take his place?” the low voice of the giant figure asked curiously.

“If I did, would you truly let him go?”

“Yes. But you must stay here forever.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, ignoring my father shouting at me not to do it—that he was old and had lived his life and he didn’t want to lose me the way he lost my mother. I rubbed my lips together and cocked one eyebrow. “Come into the light,” I requested.

The figure seemed to shrink away from me as I stooped to grab the candelabra.

I snatched it up and pressed it forward to see who this mysterious man was.

I gasped.

Not a man at all.

Next

[awkward-akutagawa]

Now that he made that promise with Atsushi, I feel like Akutagawa would use rashomon just trip people over. Just for his own amusement before capturing them... sure it doesnt live up to the satisfaction of killing someone but I think it would be quite funny... maybe he just changes the rules a bit and trips someone over and they accidentally fall into a pit of lava. its just a prank, bro! He would do so well in 2014 youtube ...

That is super funny! Imagining Ryuu like... tripping people and Higuchi filming it like a Viner or some shit is just... the best mental image.

And it’s probably likely! We actually know that Ryuu isn’t like... hurting people by like cutting off limbs or body parts cause as he says.

Plus the Volume 15 Omake actually showed us that he was simply slapping people with Rashomon.

So it’s not really out of the realm of possibility that he’s just running around and fucking with people like that. It probably would amuse him. 

I know it amuses me!

-MI

[90smovieolderbrother]

the fact that cody and noel will most likely end up in history books is so funny to me. because youtube and internet culture is such a huge part of our lives now, there’s going to be a section in history books where they will talk about youtube’s impact and they might mention tmg. because think about it, both cody and noel got their starts on vine, which also has it’s own impact, and then they transitioned to youtube and got bigger there and are pretty well recognized now. and also, they went from being viners to youtubers to podcasters to signed rappers, it’s a pretty big, like, jump in terms of being entertainers. and by history books, i don’t necessarily mean school textbooks, i just mean history books in a vague, umbrella term kinda way. anyway, imagine reading a book and you just see the term “tiny meat gang”, it’ll be like getting punched in the face.

[sassycassieshipsimaginesprefs]

Imagine constantly sending Thomas bad puns. As much as he loves it, sometimes it gets annoying.

Thomas was excited! His phone went off! Someone wanted to talk to him!

And it was from you!

You know, I’m not the biggest fan of animals. I guess you could say I’m not a… FANIMAL! XD

He smiled and rolled his eyes. Of course.

[theimagineparadise]

Imagine dating this cutie. 

-I’m super busy lately and will be for a while, so bear with me if I don’t post some days, sorry.-

[nightmarecake426]

~YouTubers on Taskmaster~

~If I’m correct, Taskmaster is a series where comedians compete for random prizes given in by the other competitors and a trophy of the Taskmaster’s head. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but there aren’t so many comedians so I was watching the series while scroliing through YouTube when I had an idea:

Why not have YouTubers on the show?

YouTubers are technically comedians in their own ways. So I imagined people like Jacksepticeye, LaurenZSide, Thomas Sanders (I am aware he’s a Viner/TikToker but still), Markiplier, AmazingPhil, Danisnotonfire, Stampylongnose, 8Bit-Ryan, ye get the picture. When they, if they will) get the series back after COVID-19 is over I’ll be happily waiting this season.

Who else wishes to see this on Dave Taskmaster?~