#he just goes INSANE out of nowhere it’s so funny

[dcxdpdabbles]

hello hello! After a few posts of this premise I just had to say something and because you just make them come to life I just had to ask :) anyway, Danny let’s say in seriously injured by the giw or even his parents but he is reverting to his core and he goes to Clockwork to help since he’s the one he’s the most closest ghost to and kinda his guardian ghost, Clockwork sees that he himself will not be able to help forever and finds a different solution. He takes Danny’s core and makes a magic safe guard and puts his core inside in the guise of a doll like this one:

But with Danny’s coloration! He sends Danny to Gotham and ends up being picked up by Robin!Jason who thinks he’s cute and gets attached, Danny is weak but trying to gather ectoplasm but sends a sense of gratefulness to Jason who feels it but is a bit confused but happy he saved a doll. He brings it with him everywhere and takes it with him everywhere but when Jason dies and buried Danny is sat at his grave and he wakes up a little earlier with Danny and brings with him. He gets a strange attachment and feeling of safety with the doll and then is able to talk to it and Danny and him become closer and when he eventually reunites with everyone and things smooth over he feels it’s fine to bring Danny the doll to the mansion and the others realize that Jason has a haunted fucking doll and with the already thin trust they can’t do hair when Danny messes with them with moving their stuff, appearing out of nowhere, and being all around creepy but he helps Alfred so Jason has no issues and finds it funny. There are probably times where they try to dispose of it anyways but comes back completely fine and they become even warier but Danny is just having the time of his life while eating his ectoplasm while helping them with cases and finding things and such and Alfred even defends him when they try to talk Jason around about the creepy doll and is like “Did you stay at my grave 24/7 in all weather? That’s what I thought.” When Tim tries to get evidence he takes a picture of the doll all he sees is a boy around the age Jason died with pale soft blue eyes staring back with a soft smile that even if it wasn’t really creepy he still felt a chill down his spine

First of all, the photo almost gave me a heart attack. Haunted dolls terrify me (ironically, I fear ghosts.) But honestly, I love the prompt, so here you go!

Jason moves back into the manor- sort of. He's still in the middle of his hostile takeover of Crime Alley, but things are a little less stressful between the family. Maybe it was because Jason's Pit Madness was slowly disappearing, thanks to his friend Danny.

Danny was a great listener and always willing to help Jason sort through his feelings and thoughts. He was the reason that Jason chose to try to talk things out with Bruce before going through his insane idea of attacking Tim at the Titian Tower.

Which, you know, Tim was grateful he didn't actually go through with it after finding the plans in some of Jason's stuff while helping him move. The fact he wanted to wear his old Robin outfit- which would not fit on his body now- would have been beyond traumatizing enough, thank you very much.

"I know." Jason laughed as the rest of the family crowded around the plans. Even Damian seemed a bit disturbed by what was written. "Danny made me realize I didn't have the skinny legs to pull off the outfit."

Tim has never met Danny, but he has heard about him. Jason spoke about him when he followed Bruce and Jason around with his camera, which was enough for him to know Danny was likely a childhood friend.

Of course, Danny went by the code "Doll" in those days. Personally, Tim had always assumed that Jason and Danny shared a relationship that went beyond friends.

It had been another reason that Jason was his favorite Robin. If Robin could like boys, then Tim could too, and the knowledge that one of his literal heroes was like him helped Tim accept himself faster.

He never brought it up, even as Jason slowly gained control over Crime Alley as a Crime Lord- one that didn't kill because it would make Danny sad, which was another point in his secret boyfriend checkbox list.

Everything was fine- until Bruce found out about Danny.

"Jason, I thought you outgrew Danny," Bruce uttered hesitantly as Jason explained how Danny had fallen over himself when describing his Titain Tower plan.

Jason's eyes flashed green at once, and everyone in the cave grew tense.

"I will never outgrow Danny!" The second oldest barked, his neck muscles straining.

Now Tim knew that Danny was a secret, so he never brought him up despite the burning need to ask every question under the sun about him. Jason wasn't out to the rest of the family- detectives or not- that was up to Jason to decide when they would know.

He just always assumed Bruce knew since, you know, his son called his best friend Doll back when he was fourteen and running around in green spandex.

How could he not know? Did he want Jason to change his cape out for a rainbow and sing musicals at the top of his lungs on Wayne Tower?

Actually.....Jason did sing in musicals at his drama club. Honestly, Bruce was in denial.

Jason may not be out, but Tim wouldn't let Bruce bully him about his lover!

"Jason can have whatever friends he wants! And feel whatever he feels about them!" Tim snares, and that causes Dick, Damian, and Steph to bristle. They stand beside a huffing Jason, slowly coming down from his rage at the sight of support.

Cass and Alfred watch from the Batcomputer, a tension around their eyes the only sign that they, too. Bruce intelligently raises his hands in a placating manner.

"I did not mean anything wrong by that, Jason. I'm just surprised Danny still has such a strong hold on you." Bruce starts, his eyes never leaving his boy's face, even with all his other children flocking around him. "I thought Danny was lost when you died."

There is a long pause where Tim considers the words. It's a fair assumption. After all, Danny thought Jason had died and been buried. Why would he wait around after that?

Even the Bats still didn't know what caused Jason to come back. How would a civilian possibly begin to consider his boyfriend returning from the grave- or Tim assumes to be a civilian since Danny had never joined them on the field? He had to be in the know for Jason to tell him the plans comfortably.

"He waited every day, twenty-four seven at my grave," Jason tells Bruce, puffing up his chest. "He was with me when I was in a coma and when I was practically brain-dead on the streets. Hell, he was even there when the League of Assiasns brainwashed me!"

Damian jerks in surprise. He always gets taken aback by how casually Jason admits being part of the organization of his upbringing, no matter how briefly. Not even Bruce does that. "I....was unaware Daniel had been with you. I never saw him."

"Talia allowed me to have him with me just as long as I kept him tied up in my closet so he wouldn't be spotted."

Everyone but Alfred and Bruce step back, staring in horror at Jason. Tim can figure out by their reactions alone that everyone in the Bats had come to the same conclusion as he did about Danny being Jason's lover then.

After all, it's hard to hide that kind of thing from the family of detectives.

How could I have missed this? Tim thinks in dismay. Quickly, his brain runs through every time Jason has so much as hinted at Danny, trying to spot the signs that apparently his brother was abusive and honestly psychotic towards his boyfriend.

"Jason," Dick began in the same casual tone he usually used on hostile witnesses. "Where is Danny now?"

" Upstairs in my closet. He kept trying to escape, so I had to switch to chains." The responses are as easy as they are casual. Tim's stomach drops.

Quickly, he makes eye contact with Steph, who very quickly lowers her chin at him, and then his eyes flicker to the others. Damian's hands have curled, while Dick moves casually to stand behind Jason, which will make it easier to restrain him.

How long had Danny been up there? How many days and nights did he spend held against his will in the one place that should have been the safest of Gotham?

They all tense their muscles, ready to strike-

"Danny is a doll," Bruce suddenly speaks up, his eyes flickering to all of the gathered children with a wild, alarmed look. Ah, he caught on to the fact they were about to take Jason down. "A doll that Jason found in Crime Alley. Made of porcelain and fabric. Not a person."

The Bats are still eyeing their father with sharp, trained eyes, but Alfred's agreeing nod has them relaxing. Oh, thank the gods!

"Of course, Danny isn't a person," Jason replies mystified. He is unaware of how close he came to being jumped. As it were, the Bats stepped away from him as he looked around, confused. "Why would I have a person chained up in my closet?"

Bruce gets a strange, sad smile on his face. "Yes, Chum, why would you."

Tim isn't following. "If Danny is a toy-"

"A doll." Jason cuts in with a hard edge to his voice.

"Right, sorry, if Danny is a doll, why must you chain him up?"

Jason smiles. "Cause Danny runs the first chance he gets."

What?

"Danny is a haunted doll," Bruce starts, only to have Jason huff.

"No, he isn't! Danny is not haunted; he's just curious." Jason rolls his eyes. "Yeah, he never stays still, and okay, sometimes things disappear around the house, but that doesn't necessarily mean a haunting!"

"Master Jason, might I remind you that while you and Mister Danny were first living here, I caught the vacuum moving by itself?" Alfred calls. "I also remember that Mister Danny's head turned to me and followed my movement as I dusted."

"He just wanted to help you clean," Jason defends in a rather childish manner that Tim never thought he would see from someone his age. Maybe that's why Bruce was worried Danny was still around. "He's not a ghost."

"Chum, I hear laughter from your room even when you are not home." Bruce starts. "The laughing started the day you brought Danny home."

"He can tell great jokes!"

"Wait, tells jokes? Jason, does Danny talk to you? " Steph questioned, looking a tiny bit spooked. Oh yeah, she hates ghosts. Tim forgot her fear of them after living so close to the Gotham cemetery and all the nasty ghost stories surrounding it.

Jason blinks down at her, likely forgetting they were present, before considering the question. He moves his hand in a so-and-son motion. "He tries, but it sounds like fast past whispers. I have to strain to hear him."

"Jason," Dick says with an easy-going smile that belies the worry in his eyes. "That's haunting one-oh-one. You're haunted."

"No, a haunting implies that Danny is dead, which he is not. Danny is just resting until his body can reform. I think he's an alien." Jason taps his chin. "He told me before that his species are the conscious manifestation of ectoplasm but that their souls are within a small core, they can retreat to when badly injured. Danny was really hurt, so he's taking a while to reform."

Bruce's strained smile becomes tighter. "We can have Zatanna or Consitine take a look at him. They might-"

"I'll blow your fucking head off if you try it, old man" Jason's eyes were a bright green, an animistic sneer at his lips, and bloodlust was thick in the air. The abrupt change makes Tim wonder if he has passed out and missed the trigger.

Bruce sighs. "Of course, Jason. Why don't you show everyone, Danny? I think it's time they meet him."

Jason beams, shooting up the stairs to go get his doll. Everyone watches him go, and until they are sure he can not hear them, they burst into conversation.

"Jason is definitely haunted!" Dick despairs, throwing himself dramatically on a nearby chair. "We need to do something! Get it away from him."

"We will do no such thing," Alfred huffs. "Mister Danny is a fine young ghost who helps Master Jason. It would be unwise to separate them."

"As much as I hate to admit it, even Dinah claims that the two are good for each other." Bruce says, likely unhappy that Black Canary used her therapy license against him, "Apparently, Danny is Jason's support doll."

Before anyone can say anything else, Jason races down the stairs with a broad smile. In his hands is a beautiful porcelain doll with black fabric hair, a fine little king suit made from expensive material, and a pretty painted face.

Its green glass eyes- colored to seem almost watery- seemed to stare into everyone's soul as Jason held him up for the room to see. Danny had no facial expression- not even a smile, just a soft, relaxed neural set of features that were popular in the era he was likely made in, but the eyes held emotions.

There was definitely something intelligent and aware in them.

Tim shuddered.

"Oh, Tim, can you take our picture? It's Danny's first time in the cave, and I want to commemorate the date!" Jason suddenly asks, rocking on his heels like he used to do as Robin. Tim wonders if Danny was doing that to him- reverting him to a child-like mind.

If so, was that a good thing? Should he let it keep happening?

"Sure, Jason," He says, instead picking up his camera that he had taken on patrol. He aims his lends, trying to find the perfect lighting as his older brother quickly holds the doll up in his arms, allowing it' head to be at the same level as his face.

Tim snaps the picture, but when he looks at the screen, a shiver runs down his spine, and it takes all his training not to scream.

Jason's smirk is not out of place for his hulky form. He takes up most of the frame, but where Danny the doll is, there is a faint outline of another person. A teenager, maybe a year younger than Jason, with pretty features, a copy of the beauty in Jason's arms, but much more human, yet not human, is smiling at the camera.

He's about a head shorter than Jason, but even with the softness of his smile, Tim has never been more creeped out in his life.

Jason is definitely haunted.

"How did it come out?" Jason asks as Danny's doll head turns to look at Damian. The younger boy imminently moved back, hiding behind Bruce. The doll's eyes followed him, almost amused by the boy's actions.

"G-good." Tim stammers. Steph is already racing for the safety of Bruce's cape, joining Damian. "Danny is beautiful."

Jason pauses, tilting his head as if hearing something, eyes flickering down to his right where the teenager ghost stood for the picture, and then grins.

"Of course he means it." Jason's ears turn pink as he admits, "I also think you're the most gorgeous person I've ever met."

Okay, Jason is definitely being haunted by someone he might have a crush on. That's....something Bruce has to deal with because Tim is the younger brother, not the dad, and thank god for that.

He might be wrong, but he gets the sense that the doll is blushing even though nothing changes.

It's not my circus and will never be my monkies. Tim thinks racing to Bruce's cape is a good idea as well. He is scared to be out here in the open like Dick and Cass.

Those two might be okay with being haunted, but Tim isn't. Just in case, he'll have to steer clear of the manor for a few days.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Jason's Doll #Dead on Main #Yes Danny is laughing that the big bad bats are scared of him #Jason saw Danny's real form in his dreams #Ghost can reach you there #Bruce is like #“Son please let me buy you a toy that's not ghost-infected. Come on you're eighteen now” #Cass and Dick think it's a sweet love story #Tim's pov

[alleiwentcrazy]

Now with a part two!

There’s a guy that comes to the cafe Eddie’s working at. Every other day, he comes to the counter, smiles at Eddie and gives him a post-it with “hi, an americano with two sugars please :)” written on it. He has a different color of post-it assigned for every day. Eddie smiles back and makes the americano, trying to keep his heart from jumping out of his chest. 

Needless to say, the guy is insanely cute. He has swoopy chestnut hair, droopy, almost puppy-like eyes, and two moles on his neck that make him look like he’s been bitten by a vampire. Eddie’s not sure if he finds it more adorable or sexy; either way, he’s definitely developed a crush. And now, after months of trying to gather up his courage to say hi, after months of pining and staring from afar... He’s still nowhere near ready to talk to him. And Chrissy’s not letting him live it down. 

“You’re insufferable,” she whispers to him frantically when the guy comes through the door on the first Monday of December. “Do something more than smile dumbly or I’ll fire you.”

“You can’t fire me,” Eddie hisses back as he tries to dust pastry crumbs off of his shirt. 

“I’m the manager. I can do whatever I want,” she chirps back and goes on to cleaning the machines that don’t need to be cleaned, because Eddie did that twenty minutes ago. 

The guy comes to the counter. There are snowflakes in his hair, big and soft. Eddie thinks that they compliment his eyes—then he realizes that it’s a weird thing to notice about a stranger. 

The stranger smiles. Eddie smiles back. Today’s post-it is light purple.

Eddie makes the americano. It’s muscle memory at this point, he’s not even thinking about what he’s doing until he has to force a lid onto the cup and serve it to his customer. Hell, whatever. He grabs a sharpie and bends down to drabble something on the cup, trying not to spill the coffee. He manages to draw an ugly looking snake that was supposed to be a dragon, cringes, writes “Have a nice day!” underneath it and prays that it isn’t too weird.

Of course it is. But, miraculously, the guy looks at it, huffs a tiny laugh and smiles right at Eddie and – yeah, whatever, curse him – the whole room lights up. Yes, it’s sappy. Sue him. He could be sappy for this guy—if the guy wanted it.

He takes his coffee and leaves, but before he crosses the threshold, he turns back and waves at Eddie, using only three fingers. It’s a small wave, but a wave nonetheless, so Eddie sends him his best grin and waves back.

When he’s finally out, Eddie bends over the counter and groans. Chrissy pats him between the shoulderblades, mocking sympathy. “You’re on probation,” she whispers. Eddie groans once again. This is hell.

***

He has to call in sick on Wednesday. Now that he’s thinking about it, he kind of knew that the mayo smelled funny and it wasn’t good anymore. But he’s a broke college student and he had a choice: stale bread with mayo and a slice of tomato, or just stale bread with a slice of tomato. These weren’t even real choices. It was suffering or suffering.

Apparently, he’d chosen double suffering, and he had a whole night of hurling to prove it. Good thing he doesn’t have to send Chrissy any photos of what he had to deal with – when he calls, she cuts him off with “Just take my afternoon shift tomorrow and we’re even. You’ll miss out on your cutie, it’s a punishment in and of itself,” and goes on with her day.

Eddie’s so grateful for Chrissy. He wouldn’t get anywhere without her. 

***

Eddie doesn’t expect his guy to come on Thursday, it isn’t his regular schedule, so he’s in for a surprise when his morning shift ends and turns into Chrissy’s afternoon shift, and then, some time later, his guy comes in—and he’s not alone.

He’s with a girl. With a pretty, pretty girl, who has beautifully curly brown hair, inquisitive eyes and kind but determined expression on her face. There’s something quite unique about her; Eddie thinks, briefly, that she looks like she’s from another era. Like if they were living in the 80s, she would have a perm, wear bold lipstick and have a whole wall of degrees and certificates in her office. She seems to be destined for great things. She’s a badass.

Eddie’s nothing like her. He tries to swallow down the jealousy as they near the counter. His – his? – guy looks surprised, but smiles either way, his eyes lighting up in a matter of seconds.

“Hi,” the girl says. Her own smile is so nice and warm Eddie can’t stay mopey for too long. “I’ll have a latte with two shots of espresso, and…”

She turns to the guy beside her, but Eddie doesn’t have to know the answer. “An americano with two sugars. On it.”

Their eyes lock for a second. The guy seems a bit shy, but he’s still smiling. Eddie counts that as a win. But he’s still quick with their coffees. He can sense the staring contest they’re having even while he has his back turned to them. He kinda wants them gone, but they didn’t ask for to go, so he just tries to stay calm. Focused. Sharp.

Fortunately, he doesn’t spill anything. They get their order and sit in a corner. It doesn’t look like a date, they pull out books and notes, scribble and sign from time to time. The girl clearly knows more than just the basics of ASL, unlike Eddie. Since the guy started showing up, he’s been trying to learn more about it, but now he makes a mental note to enroll on a course. It’s time to commit – to what, exactly, he’s not sure. But he’s gonna make it happen.

Hours pass, but they stay in the same position. Eddie steals a glance every now and then, trying not to let his jealousy get to the surface again, but it’s hard. The guy is cute, the girl is smart and beautiful. He decides to call Chrissy on his way home – if he has to pine, she’ll suffer with him.

The end of his shift is nearing when he hears a giggle from the godforsaken corner. He looks up from the cups he’s been rearranging and sees that it’s his guy’s girl who’s laughing. She’s laughing at yet another girl, who’s standing outside and drawing hearts on the dirty window. She has a goofy grin on her face, one that makes her eyes and her prominent cheekbones pop even more, and it’s the same grin that the girl inside is wearing at the moment.

Now, Eddie doesn’t know a lot about love, but he definitely recognizes heart eyes when he sees them. He smiles to himself – don’t judge a book by its cover, huh?

His guy looks exasperated about being completely ignored, so he taps the glass a few times. The girl outside looks at him, shocked, like she’s only just seen him now, sticks out her tongue at him, and goes back to blowing kisses at her girlfriend. The guy looks truly wounded. Eddie snorts; the dynamic here is immaculate.

In the meantime, the not-his-guy's girl has gathered her things and prepared to leave. She kisses his cheek on her way out, but the guy stays put, bending over his papers again. Eddie thinks it’s quite interesting. Then, he makes a plan.

When he’s done with work, his guy is still there. Which is perfect. Eddie fixes his hair one last time, trying to gauge whether his outfit is metal enough (it is) for the occasion, and grabs the americano with two sugars he’s made.

It’s alright. Everything’s alright.

His wildly beating heart isn’t so sure about that.

When he gets to his guy’s table, he sets the piece of paper on it first. “Looks like you’re swamped – it’s on the house,” it says. The guy looks up, surprised, his mouth opened in a tiny oh. His eyes go wide for a moment and then he smiles. Something warm settles inside Eddie’s chest.

The guy picks up a pen and writes “Thank you!!!” on Eddie’s piece of paper, but before giving it back, he changes his mind. “I’m Steve,” he scribbles, and then gives it back with a flash of smile.

He smiles a lot. It’s an amazing sight.

“Hello, Steve. I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you,” Eddie replies. “What are you working on?” he adds after a second, because he’s feeling bold and he really doesn’t want to go yet.

The guy – Steve – sighs. He makes some room on the loveseat he’s occupying and pushes his books to the middle. Eddie takes it as a cue to sit down. Their knees bump, Eddie gets goosebumps, but he doesn’t move away. Neither does Steve.

“I’ve got an assignment on modern fantasy and its mythological origins, but I’m not as nerdy as my friends so I’m struggling a bit. Nance helped, but she’s not an expert either and my other nerdy friends went for a trip. Maybe you have any experience?”

Eddie’s eyes open wide and he bounces with excitement, nodding his head along the way. “YES,” he writes, all caps, and Steve huffs another laugh. They look at each other then, Eddie all hyped and ready, Steve—soft? There’s no other way to describe it. His gaze is gentle, almost caring. Eddie can feel his cheeks warm up.

His phone buzzes aggressively in his pocket. He checks it – it’s Chrissy. She’s got her period and she’s out of tampons.

“Shit,” he mumbles. Steve bumps their shoulders.

“What’s up?” he asks.

Eddie picks up the pen. “Tiny emergency, I’m sorry. Tomorrow?”

He knows that his hopeful stare must seem desperate, but Steve reads his reply, looks up and smiles, nodding. Eddie wants to scream victory, but he only nods back and gets up instead. When he’s about to turn and leave, he feels fingers wrap around his hand, delicate but firm. Slowly, Steve opens up his hand and writes something on it.

It’s a phone number. “In case you get sick again :)”

Eddie can’t hold back his dopey smile any longer. When he looks at Steve, the corners of his lips quirk up too. He’s lovely.

Eddie can’t wait for tomorrow.

#steve harrignton #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #steddie #ronance #fic #stranger things #st4 #coffeshop au #hoh steve harrington #my beloved #i'm sure it's been done #but i haven't seen it so here's my version #it's probably the first time without any angst in a fic i've written in my life #fluff #and nothing else #modern au #is it even a fic? it's tiny #anyway i just love the pookies. let them be soft and mushy they can suffer later

[husbandhoshi]

TO GROW LOVE (AND EAT IT TO THE CORE)

pairing: mingyu x gn!reader wc: 8.1k summary: your whole life, you've only wanted one thing. then you meet mingyu. suddenly you want too much, and you wish the summer never ended. notes: farmer!au, established relationship, angst/hurt/a little comfort

this is a birthday fic for my one and only cat @wuahae ! yes this is about half a year late but what can i say. all good things come with time. thank you for being so kind, funny, and thoughtful (and patient)! not a day goes by where i’m not thankful for our friendship :)

and a million thanks to hana @wqnwoos and jackie @97-liners for helping me with edits. literally you guys are insane writers and i will never stop looking up to you.

i. strawberries (the summer we were young)

When a strawberry is ripe, the seeds push out from the heart of the fruit, as if it's bursting from the inside out.

This is one of the few and only things you've learned by living in Seogwipo, where strawberry season comes like a supernova. The May sun, full and heavy, peels into summer, and the roadside farms open their doors, trying to catch stray vacationers from Jeju City on the other side of the island.

That being said, there are approximately two things to do here. One of them is farm. The other is pretend like you have a life, which is your childhood friend Yizhuo's favorite thing to do when she's back from university on summer break.

Today, this involved convincing her ritzy, too-good Seoul friends that they're missing out on this side of Jeju. (Missing out on what? You're not sure. Perhaps the chipped paint of the mural walls, or the endless flat-topped stretches of seagrass. Yizhuo isn't fooling anyone, but you've always liked stretching your legs out in the bed of her pick-up, even on the long drive to nowhere.)

Unsurprisingly, her friends quickly came to the same conclusion. Just one look at your local strawberry patch, with none of the glamour of the bloated tourist traps in the city, and they decided they'd rather spend the afternoon at the beach.

It was then, between the fragaria blooms, when you met Mingyu. He asked for your name, and the rest was history. Yizhuo and co. scattered like the grasping hands of an overripe dandelion and you learned that he was, one, the newly-graduated son of a pair of local farmers, and two, very, very attractive. Almost too much so, especially for a place like this.

Now he holds up a berry, a bright red murder between his fingers, and tells you to try it.

"You must be delusional if you think i'm taking food from a stranger," you laugh, perched on the fence bordering the field. It sprawls before you, melon stripes on the sunbaked ground.

"No, my name is Mingyu," he replies. "No idea who delusional is." His smile, all bright lip and snaggletooth, tears into the scarlet belly of a newly picked strawberry.

"We all know what happened to Persephone."

"Well, if the underworld was a strawberry patch, I wouldn't mind being stuck there for all of eternity."

"What're you picking all these for, anyway?" you ask, watching Mingyu struggle with his too-big straw hat between the vines. His woven basket bleeds over with little berries.

"Jam. I make it on the very first day of every summer."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who trespassed on my farm. You're cute, but I won't let you off easy."

He laughs at how you balk, clearly red-handed. You're not sure how to tell him you don't think you were supposed to be here either. You don't do things like sit in the back of trucks, trespass, or talk to pretty farmer boys who take a fancy to you, but it's the summer before you graduate and you're not even sure how long you'll have to continue making bad decisions.

"Are you gonna take my first-born now?" you joke instead. The daylight runs down the rim of Mingyu's hat, trickles down his brow, and you wish you could pour the image of him into a jar and keep it forever.

"No, but I will invite you in for some fresh jam on toast. I baked a loaf this morning." and when you say nothing, he continues. "The strawberries are only good once a year. It's the best you'll ever have. Promise."

It's a whine and a half, and somehow you convince yourself this will be the last bad decision you'll make. You've been here long enough to know that good things don't come twice in Seogwipo, and he is unlikely to be an exception.

Yizhuo blows up your phone, you tie the gingham apron around Mingyu's tiny waist, and the basket turns to blood in the saucepan.

Mingyu is right. Love comes to you in that kitchen, high and red like the sun, and the jam never tastes as good as it does that summer.

ii. watermelon (hollowed out, like a magic trick)

"A good watermelon sounds like a heartbeat."

You watch Mingyu heave the fruit, small and striped, out of his grocery bag. It joins the array of egg sandwiches and banana milks you picked up from the store together earlier. (There should have been chocolate Pepero too, but you split the box on the walk).

You're on a picnic, sprawled out on the outcropping overlooking the water. The path up is basically right behind your house, but you had never cared to visit. It had always been the local makeout spot, a schlocky teen crawl for those with nothing better to do, and yet, with Mingyu stretched out beside you, it seems newer. More exciting.

You're still just friends, or at least that's what you told Yizhuo. But ever since you sat on Mingyu's kitchen counter and ate from his jam-covered spatula, you don't think you've gone a week without seeing him. It's been almost two months, which seems so long and yet not long enough—he makes it easy to be greedy.

"See?" He thumps the watermelon with the heel of his palm. "Try it."

You already went through this entire charade at the grocery store, right in front of all the local aunties, but you indulge him. There's little point to triple checking if it's still ripe, but you think he just likes hitting it.

"It sounds good," you say. "But how are we even gonna eat it? We don't have a knife."

"Watch this." Mingyu procures a coin from his pocket. "You didn't learn this in elementary school? I feel like everyone was doing it."

"Here?" you ask, incredulous.

"Yeah, here. I grew up here too, you know."

He holds the edge of the coin to the skin and slams his palm into it once more, so that it lodges itself into the rind, and begins dragging it around the fruit. You start to wonder if he bought the watermelon just to show you a party trick—not that you mind, though. The strain of his biceps peeks through his rolled up white tee, and you remember why he was able to stop you with just one look back when you first met.

"No way." The watermelon is so ripe, it bleeds around the incision. "I feel like I know everyone here. And I definitely would have remembered you."

"I was probably, like, two grades above you," he replies. "And my parents shipped me off to live with my cousins after elementary school. They said I should get out of Seogwipo and experience the real world."

"Good call. There's nothing here." You watch Mingyu spin the melon over to cut through the other side. The coin catches the sunlight, and it looks like gold. "I wish I left for university. The one here is so small."

"Really?" He pauses to show you his handiwork. The two melon halves roll over on their backs, their cut edge cruel and jagged. "Cool, huh?"

"Impressive," you say. "Honestly. I really didn't think that would work."

"I didn't either when I first saw someone do it. But I’ll try anything once," he replies, ripping open the packaging of the plastic spoon from the bag. "I can't believe you don't like it here."

"You do?"

"Yeah. A lot." He shoves the spoon in his mouth, and you watch the watermelon juice pool around his lips. "I missed home. The trees and the tall grass and the ocean. All the fruits. Everything. I learned to ride a bike, right down there by the water."

"Hm." He passes you the spoon. You don't want to hog it, so you carve out a piece bigger than you need. "Are you gonna work at the farm?"

"Maybe. Haven't decided yet," he says. "I think I want to be here, though. Maybe do something with food, but I want to be home."

"That's funny, because I think I’ve always wanted to live a different life. Or at least one somewhere else."

"You want to go to law school, right?"

"Yeah." Mingyu is right. The watermelon is all sugar, and you would almost feel guilty for eating it if it wasn't technically good for you. "I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. It's something about the people watching, I think."

"That’s really cool," Mingyu says, mouth full but no less sincere. It's then that you notice your shoulders are almost touching, and your heart crawls back up to your mouth. "You know what you want. I admire that."

He makes it sound like a compliment, but you're sure it's a curse.

You think of your parents. There's a permanent wrinkle ironed into their foreheads, the paper crease of expectations and high standards. It's not that they didn't care, but their kind of care was a humbled sort, made heavy by a hard life. It didn't help that your big sister Seohyun went straight from Yonsei to work a big tech job in San Francisco and never once looked back.

But you can't blame any of them—wanting has always been a hereditary failing. Sometimes Yizhuo will catch you frowning at nothing, and then you remember that life isn't a performance and every day ends at the same time no matter how hard you work. But you don't know how to tell her that the only thing you can do sometimes is want, because otherwise you wouldn't really have much at all.

It seems like the exact opposite of how Mingyu lives—everything about him seems to pass like the seasons. Maybe that's why you can't seem to get enough of each other.

"Thank you. Really." You dig the spoon into your half of the melon. There isn't much left. "You're way too nice to me."

"It’s not hard to be," he laughs. "Maybe you're just too hard on yourself."

You're losing track of the distance between the two of you. You can almost feel the heat playing off his skin.

"Maybe."

It's then, under the veil of summer, where you meet Mingyu's gaze and, finally, things seem close to simple.

All you know are his eyes, heavy with sun, and then the slow, slow move of his lips against yours. He tastes like August, long and sweet, and for once you know what it's like to not only want, but to have, and to have again.

The ocean sings on the horizon, and the watermelon bellies weep.

iii. adzuki beans (or, the blood of a headless taiyaki)

Mingyu eats taiyaki headfirst because he says it hurts less.

"That makes no sense," you tell him, your pinkies linked. You never really liked holding hands, but yours fits so perfectly in Mingyu's and there's some girlish, childlike shine to it when you watch his finger search for yours after just a moment separated.

"What do you mean."

He breaks your gaze to eye a red bean taiyaki, like an unwilling predator sizing up their prey. It's the lamest, most embarrassing iteration of National Geographic you've ever seen, and yet you cannot find any fiber within yourself not deeply in love with the lion.

Fall is a forgiving place for your relationship to settle. You're now a senior at university and he's started his gap year. Gap implies he's in the middle of something, but in true Mingyu fashion, he leaves it up to fate, or chance, or something not nearly as kind (whim).

"Taiyaki isn't alive. And why would you want to pretend it is? Eating gummy bears would become an extinction event."

"It kind of is." He holds out the tail end of the taiyaki, the pastry almost explicitly flayed open, in front of you to eat. "Why does the Haribo bear have a face? Why do the gummy bears live in a gummy forest?"

"Great, so now I can’t even enjoy gummy bears without feeling like a serial killer?"

You dig your pointer into his shoulders, broad from all the time he spends on the farm. To think that his hands, big and weathered, were made to pick berries (and now wrap around your pinky finger) is bruising, if not ridiculously funny.

"It's a crime of passion. Gummy passion. Prosecute that."

He kisses your cheek and your heart almost squeezes into two.

The terrible thing about being with Mingyu is how seemingly endless his affection is. Now he's feeding you in public and buying the two of you matching socks (cat and dog, to be exact), although you'll admit it's a little charming, even if the neighbors do gossip.

He's sweet, too sweet, and his kisses stick to the back of your throat.

But you can't be fooled. There's an unsaid violence to the way Mingyu loves. (The meticulous spiral of the peel he carves when you ask for him to cut you an apple. The grind, decisive and cruel, of a knife against a cutting board. A pair of canines against your neck, your jaw.)

Even now, he bites the head off another unwitting taiyaki before stuffing it back in the bag.

"We're still splitsing, right?" he says, with perhaps 1% of his mouth available for speaking and the other 99% murder machine.

Splits, he always says before you share food. You never had the heart to tell him that it's in the same family as mines or sharesies or takebacks—silly childhood relics, ones that no one uses anymore because they don't mean anything.

This time, you don't hear him because you're thinking about the law school fair you went to before Mingyu picked you up. The future is so close, it scares you. A year from now, what ground would you be standing on? Would it smell like this—the peat, the thread-spool fields, the balm of the ocean? Would you still have Mingyu's finger wrapped round yours?

"Have you decided if you're staying at the farm?" you ask.

"Not really." He uses the back of his hand to wipe off his chin. "If my sister decides to take over, I’m actually kinda thinking of going to pastry school instead of getting a masters."

Mingyu had been toying with the idea for some time after you had talked about it on the outlook. It started off as a joke (September; a galette), then a what if (October; green tea mochi), and now it sits at a kinda.

"Kinda?"

The word gathers speed in the pachinko machine of your mind. You never liked being a kinda person. For Mingyu, it seems like a luxury of a word, but for you, it's really just another thing to hide behind. Kinda talented, kinda ambitious, kinda just there. You're always one foot in, one foot out of something better.

"Yeah, kinda. Why?"

"I dunno. What if we both end up leaving?"

"Maybe. You still want to, right?"

You would be lying if you said you didn't—it's what you always wanted. Seogwipo has been a sun-rot, too-small crutch for you, but you would also be lying if you said you weren't terrified that you'd eventually come back, limping like some doomed Icarus, unable to truly make it in the real world.

Then you think of the pockmarked farmland beside your home, lacy with the fall harvest. Even now, you can trace the endless blue of the coastline all the way there, cut through all the maybes and just let the sound of the ocean fold you into sleep like you were a child again. You wonder if Seohyun, all the way on the other side of the world, ever misses it.

"I’m not sure," you say, because, as much as you don't like it, it's the only answer you have.

"It's ok. You'll figure it out. You always do." He squeezes your cheeks together between his thumb and index, laughing at how they pillow out underneath his fingers. "Screw pastry school. I could come with you. Who else would keep you fed?"

Mingyu's complete and unfounded belief in you makes you feel something close to betrayal. How could he say any of that? With what proof? Only someone like Mingyu would be able to hold the wrinkled fruit of your unremarkable life between his palms and see something better than that. Maybe it's because he grew up on a farm. Either that, or he already cares for you too much, too painfully.

Secrets are easy to keep when they look like yours. At least here, in the pit of your stomach, you can keep count, take attendance of them, all your tittering, small anxieties. Some days it feels like your ribs are pressing out, but it's better than cutting everything loose to spill out over what little you do have control over.

You can handle a little pressure. You have to.

What concerns you is the hand Mingyu's got across your chest. With one look, he just might gut you. A twist of the heart-knife, and all those carefully wound insides carved out in an instant—maybe he'd pity you, but worse than that, he'd likely be disappointed.

For you, expectation has always stood taller than shame, and the idea that he sees something past you makes you want to run away.

"I could be a house husband," he says as easily as ever. "You'll be off saving the world, arguing with whoever, and I'll be there to run you a bath afterwards."

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you reply, binding up the strange, hollow feeling in your stomach with a laugh.

There's a scared little girl hiding inside you, and whether Mingyu sees her or not hurts the same. A spade is a spade. You can only pretend so long.

You look at the taiyaki floating in their wax paper bag, blinded and wrought open by the same grin that now peels you down, and you're not hungry anymore.

iv. winter pears (rotten, outside your parents' house)

Mingyu's family loves Christmas.

You think it's because of the pear trees they have in the front yard. They stand bravely before the house, all emerald ash and wisdom in the December freeze. Run your palms over the knobs and it's like you can see into a sleepy visage of simpler days past. (Below its heart, carved: 1982, the year the farm was bought. Along the tangle of the roots: gyu waz here, in an unsure, childish scrawl.)  

Winter comes to the countryside crawling on its hands and knees. On days it doesn't snow, there's a mist, boggy and clingy. You've come to realize the cold is more of a threat than a promise, and so the pear trees still bear fruit; the silvery branches hang heavy, faithful.

The first day of December, Mingyu's parents had tasked the two of you with decorating the farmhouse, a duty you took very seriously. You wrapped Mingyu up in string lights and watched him blink in and out like your own personal firefly.

It wasn't until you watched the rafters, the barn doors, the joyous vault of the ceiling all glow, like a spectacular firework, that you finally started to understand why Mingyu was so into the holidays.

It was in the yellow blush of the string lights that you had your first pear from the tree, which Mingyu insisted was a holiday tradition. We make poached pears, he said, mid-bite. You simmer the pear in syrup until it gets so soft, you can cut into it with a fork. Just like butter.

That same night, he kissed you, mouth hot and trembling and tasting of honey, and pressed you against the bark so hard, you could feel the grit of its veins against your skin.

You think December became your favorite month, and pears your favorite fruit.

So much so, that for the entire month, you try to put away your worries about law school applications to celebrate with Mingyu and his family.

You learn his mom makes the best hot chocolate (a cinnamon stick and a dogged devotion to the whisk), and that Mingyu has no clue on God's green earth how to ice skate. (He careens right into your chest the first time. You spend the next hour with him attached to you like a backpack—he manages to find the most impractical ways to do anything, which you somehow admire the most). On Sundays, Yizhuo ditches her Seoul friends and instead accompanies you to the mall two towns over, where she watches you compare different ties and watches and collagen creams as you decide on gifts for his family. (Lilac is so last year, she'd say, stirring the straw of a watered-down milk tea.)

It's not until the weekend before Christmas when you realize just how serious things have gotten. Your feet understand the meander of the dirt path to the farmhouse, your bones the scent of the yellow-skinned apple, the faded wildflowers. Your palms crave the plush of the rug they have in front of the fireplace. Hell, you can't even eat soondubu without thinking of the kind Mingyu's dad makes, with extra anchovies and green onion.

You don't think about what this means. There are ten days left in December and love poured from a full cup never seems to run out.

"Please let me carry some of those," Mingyu wheedles. "Oh my god. I'm like the worst boyfriend in the world."

"No, you are not." you make your way up to his doorstep, taking care to one-two step over the stray roots of one of the pear trees. It's second nature to you by now. "The moment I hand you a box, you are gonna start trying to figure out what it is."

He harumphs and plucks the big one off the top anyway, the one he knows you can't reach. "I didn't even know you were getting us gifts. You didn't have to."

"It's the least I could do. Who shows up to a holiday dinner emptyhanded?" You stop at the front door. "And stop shaking it," you laugh, using the tip of your boot to nudge his shin.

"Okay. Okay," he says, saccharine, adoring, before grabbing the doorknob. "Ready? Are you nervous? You shouldn't be nervous, right? It's not fancy or anything, if you were worried about that."

And that's the thing that wedges itself between your ribs. Mingyu and his whole family are like this. They love and worry and love again; it presses deep into you, fills you, and overflows.

So here you are, standing in your nicest dress and balancing a stack of gifts you hope will amount to something, never enough but something, to repay the people who you feel have loved you more than you deserve. It's all you really have. You do your best, and yet you know when that door opens, it'll all be washed away in a high-tide flurry of hugs and laughter and the familiar press of Bobpul's wet nose against your leg. They're just those kinds of people—they would be just as happy if you didn't bring anything at all, and somehow that makes you feel even more guilty.

"No, no," you wave him off. "I’m fine. Excited."

When Mingyu opens the door, everything goes just as you expected. His sister takes your coat, your gifts are whisked away to the tree (Aji has already figured out which one is his), and his parents descend upon you in a choking swell of warmth and charity.

We baked some fresh bread for your parents (—Thank you so much, but you really shouldn't have.). You look so beautiful in that color (—No, no, you flatter me too much.). Mingyu better be taking good care of you (—He is. He really, really is.).

The kitchen is gauzy with cinnamon, anise. They must be making their famous poached pears, which Mingyu remarks on, just like clockwork.

Dinner passes the same way. It bubbles over with affection, and you feel swallowed by an impossible yearning. This—a full table and a hand to hold underneath it—did you deserve this? And could you keep it?

For an instant, you picture yourself, years later, at this same seat. Mingyu would be fussing over the rice cakes, his apron still gingham because it reminds him of the day you two met. His parents, grayer but no less happy, bickering over the shade of tinsel on the tree. And the dogs, coiled at your feet like they are now. The vision laps at your bones like you're a raft in a storm.

You're pulled back into the moment when Mingyu squeezes your hand, grounding and insistent. "Mom asked how school was going. I told her I think you're basically the smartest person I know, and I’m pretty sure you're getting into whatever law school you want."

Mingyu's parents laugh, and they cut through their pears.

"Oh, sorry," you say. "Um."

Clink. Knife meets flesh, meets porcelain. Your cheeks are hot. You wanted to talk about anything other than yourself tonight. Clink.

"The top programs are a reach, but it'd be nice." clink. "I just want to get in somewhere."

"They’re all so far away," Mingyu's mom remarks. "So grown up. Any school will be lucky to have you. You'll get into all of them."

Clink.

"Or maybe you can stay here." You watch the prongs of Mingyu's father's fork disappear into the pear. "Keep us old folk company."

"No, no, I think Mingyu should take notes and get off his lazy ass," his sister says, teasing. "Going back to the city will be good for him."

"So you can, what, burn down the kitchen again?" Mingyu grumbles, and the whole table seems to boil over with laughter.

"We’re kidding," his mom tells you. "No matter where you go, I’m sure you'll do great. We can even throw you a party at the end of the year. For graduating."

Clink. Clink.

There's a horrible uneasiness writhing around in your stomach. It's pear and syrup and clove and a blackness, an anxious, selfish one that sucks up all the generosity of the evening and turns it into shame.

Mingyu's mom is talking about throwing you a graduation party, something you didn't even think to do for yourself, and here you are, thinking about the shaking moment you open your rejection letters and the lonely path you'll draw on your way back home.

It's ok. They missed out, Mingyu would say, pouring you a consolation drink, and then it would be over. You'd go home and sit on your bed and the trifold piece of paper would go round and round your head like it was in a washing machine.

Your heart, an inventory of tasks and goals and tally marks. Things you've taken and things you've owed. It's a soft, boneless excuse. Be grateful. Give them that, at least.

Clink.

Dessert ends before you can tell his family not to get their hopes up. Mingyu's mom sends you off with your loaf of bread and a kiss on the cheek, and the moment is gone.

"Gyu," you call out on the steps in front of the house.

There are words at the seam of your lips. You want to tell him you're sorry for worrying so much. For making the whole dinner about you and then very possibly having nothing to show for it when it matters. For the heaviness in your chest. Your cowardice. But none of it comes out.

Instead you watch Mingyu pull at the leaves of a pear tree, watching the frost-filigree they get at the end of the season. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at you, as if he's on the hazy cover of a magazine. His eyes bend so wonderfully at the corners when he looks at you, and it breaks your heart.

"You had fun, right?" he asks. "My parents like you a lot, you know. I think they really do."

But that's the problem, you want to say. You all do, and I have no idea why.

Some of the pears are beginning to rot now. You watch one drop off the vine, and it caves to the pavement like it was made of nothing at all.

v. wild barley (grows like weeds)

In March, you play house.

Your parents leave on a two week trip to see relatives, and Mingyu takes it upon himself to make sure you survive.

It's a kind, blinding charade.

(7 am, breakfast. You usually don't even eat breakfast, but you wake up to doenjang and a smile, one that presses itself to yours until you're wearing it on the long walk to school.)

(4 pm, the stretch between lunch and dinner. You're muddling through another useless club meeting when Mingyu sends you a picture of him in your mom's apron, making kimchi. Kiss the chef, he texts you. You promise to, over and over and over.)

It's good until it isn't.

That isn't to say that it's Mingyu's fault. In fact, it's never really Mingyu's fault, and that's the worst thing about your relationship. Sometimes you wish he was worse just so there was someone else to blame.

(1 am, a fridge-cold glass of water and a hand on the column of your spine. Can't sleep? He asks. Just had a weird dream, you say.

It's a lie. You're a liar.

You miss your parents and the first wave of acceptance letters comes out in two days. You're not like him. Sleep has never been a cure for the exhaustion you're feeling, and you have no way of telling him that however warm the bed is won't fix that.)

It's on a Thursday afternoon when you open your mailbox and see the tiny, thin envelope that you've been expecting for the past week. You don't need to open it to know what it says, and yet you do it anyway.

The sun is white, a ghost in the spring sky. The ocean bleeds into the overcast, the curly barley stands tall around your feet, and you let the worst letter you've gotten in your life fall upon your shoulders, word by terrible word.

Then you close it, pinching the seam shut, and draw up your brave face. Nothing left to do but be brave. You're convinced you've used up all the sadness in your relationship—spend in pennies and the well still runs dry. Mingyu will cup your cheek and call you darling, pouring into your emptying basin, holey and broken.

You see him now through the kitchen window, Venus in his clamshell of a kitchen. Galbijjim day, he had said this morning. Now, he waves at you, glittery with recognition.

Your throat feels like crumpled paper.

Mingyu smiles at you, hazy through the glass. Your cheeks hurt and your mouth is paper mache, but you smile back anyway.

///

The letters come one after another.

You know what the envelopes hold and yet you keep opening them. The little folder you keep stashed in your bottom drawer gets fatter every passing day because you can't help but revisit your misery, almost as if you need to remind yourself it exists.

Mingyu is none the wiser. Today he decides he'll put off pastry school for one more year. "It doesn't feel like the right time," he says, rolling a log of burdock kimbap up. "You know what I mean?"

No, you don't. You never really do.

You do know, however, that it would feel really fucking bad that, come the end of the year, to have nothing. All your friends would be going somewhere—even Yizhuo opened her acceptance to an MFA program in Shanghai yesterday—and you would be here, still, feet firmly planted in the muddy Jeju dirt like they always had been.

"Hey, don't look so disappointed." he jokes. "Don't tell me you're already trying to get rid of me."

You're not, you really aren't. But part of you wonders if it's just a race to the bottom. If you got rid of him before he decided he wanted to get rid of you, maybe it would hurt a lot less. One less letter for the folder.

"Never. But imagine if you picked up a French accent at pastry school. Then I’d consider it. Maybe."

You watch his knife rock back and forth on the cutting board as he cuts the kimbap.

"Some for you. And more for me," he says, in what you can only describe as someone attempting to speak French when they've never heard it before. "Unless you want more, mon cherie."

He brings the plates to the table, his grin nothing short of dizzying.

"I’m irresistible, huh? Still wanna leave me now?"

"You're gonna have to try a little harder than that, I think."

The words roll off your tongue, easily, traitorously.

You watch the kimbap disappear off of Mingyu's plate.

Going, going, gone.

///

Seogwipo is always dark at night, only kept alive by the glow of the moonlit sea.

You can't sleep. Again. And so you sit out on the steps in front of your house, letting the twilight wrap around you like a blanket.

You got your last letter back earlier today. You held your breath and tore it open like you would a birthday card with money in it.

Waitlisted.

It was surely better than a rejection, but some naive, child-eyed part of you thought that if you had just closed your eyes and hoped hard enough, things would work out the way you had planned. Tragically, it wasn't enough this time. You wanted and wanted and you thought maybe that would mean you'd come close to deserving it.

Your parents called today. After managing to sideline the issue of basically the rest of your entire life, they had finally cut through your sad little charade. No good news yet, huh?

No, but—

It was always like that with you. No, but it's not as bad as you think. No, but give me a chance. No, but I’m trying. I've been trying.

You wish things didn't come out of you so complicated. That you could be like Seohyun, who could go through school with her eyes closed and still graduate at the top of her class. Instead, you parade around your little failures, trying to convince people it all could mean something only if they squinted. See? It isn't so bad.

You think you're past the point of crying about it. Your stomach hurts, you're cold, and most of all, you just want to go back to bed. Plus, although Mingyu sleeps like a log, you think he's developed a sixth sense for whenever you get up too early.

Time to be brave, you've been telling yourself, although you don't know who you're pretending for anymore.

So you nudge the front door open—it's so old, it wails if you come at it with any more force—and, to your surprise, see the light above the kitchen sink turned on.

It's not very bright, but it's enough to make out Mingyu's broad silhouette, back turned to you as he makes a cup of tea. He's humming one of his made-up songs.

"Mingyu?"

"There you are," he says, turning around. "Just came out to check on you. And make you some tea."

The kettle whizzes. Your gut twists.

You still haven't said anything to Mingyu. To manage your own disappointment was one thing—you don't think you could handle another person's. And yet when he stands there, Pororo mug between his huge hands, you feel as if you are holding a knife, big and guilty and bloody.

"I-I'm fine, Gyu. Honest." you watch his expression flicker, unreadable in the persimmon lamplight. "Sorry you had to come out. It's chilly out here."

"You know, you can tell me what's going on. I won't judge."

No, no, no. This is the last conversation you wanted to have, with the last person you wanted to have it with.

You feel feverish. You think your hands are shaking.

"Mingyu, I swear—"

"Whatever it is, we can fix it. I know we can."

That almost makes you want to laugh if you didn't want to cry so bad. Of fucking course he would say that. Mingyu, who treats life like it's the watermelon trick he showed you on the outlook, wants to put a bandaid on this whole thing, as if that could come close to fixing it.

He'd tell you to curl up on the couch with a bad movie while he orders takeout. Kiss you on the top of the head. It's ok, baby. Just another bad day for the person who has the worst luck in the world. Another lump of problems for him to try and make better. If he isn't sick of you now, he sure would be soon enough.

"It’s okay," you say, steeling your voice. "It really isn't a big deal. Let's just go back to sleep."

You try to walk away, but the hardness in Mingyu's eyes roots you down to the tile.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Pushing me away," he swallows. "Like you always do. I know something's going on."

"I’m not, i just—"

"You just what? You can't help it?"

"No, I—"

"Because you like to know that you can? That you can say whatever and then watch me come back?" A fragmented, heavy silence thrums between you. He's looking at you like he's daring you to say something, anything. His gaze is black. "What am I good for if you can't tell me anything?"

There's that familiar, stinging pressure behind your eyes. You think you're crying, but you're not sure. Maybe you've been crying this whole time.

"Fine," you bite. Your blood feels like hot metal. "You really wanna know? I didn't get into law school. There. Happy now?"

Mingyu looks stung.

"W-why didn't you tell me?"

Because I thought you would stop loving me. I thought you would have finally had enough.

"Because it's not all about you, Mingyu."

The words, selfish and damning, burn your tongue. Mingyu is right. This is what you always do. You fuck up and then make everyone else hurt for it.

"I'm sorry," Mingyu says. His voice doesn't sound like his. Instead, the words seem to hang in the air, trembling and holding their breath, waiting for an apology you can't give yet. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's ok." You swallow hard, and it hurts. "Let's just go back to bed."

It's getting colder and colder. You think there's a little hole in your sock, right above the cat's whiskers.

Mingyu doesn't reach for you as he passes to get to the hallway. Maybe he doesn't know how to anymore.

The Pororo cup is left abandoned on the counter. You walk over and read the label on the tea bag—barley, because you have class tomorrow morning.

You pick it up, let the ceramic buzz between your hands with whatever warmth it has left, and hold it to your lips.

It's cold now, but all you can think to do is drink it. Erase all the evidence that tonight ever happened, and maybe it'll be nothing more than a bad dream in the morning.

There's honey at the bottom of the cup. It sears the back of your throat, but you drink until there's nothing left.

vi. the peach blossoms (without fail, bloom every August. I miss you.)

You broke up the next day.

Even now, you remember what happened. You had woken up early that morning to make your own breakfast because you couldn't allow Mingyu to give you any more of himself. Your hands could only hold, shatter, so much.

"Mingyu, I think we should...." You looked at the zigzags of jam on your toast, angry and uneven. "I think we should stop seeing each other. For now," you had added, as if that made anything better at all.

Somehow that seemed more merciful at the time. Really, you think it just showed your cowardice. If you were going to break his heart, you might as well have gone all the way the first time.

Maybe it was a good thing that Mingyu saw right through you. He always did.

"So that's it, huh? You're just gonna give up on us?"

"No, I just...need some time."

"How long?" he asked. "Be honest with me. Because you know I’ll wait."

"I don't know." You couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes reached and reached over that kitchen table and you denied him even that.

"Don't you always know?" he asked, pitifully, desperately. "Don't you want this to work?"

And you did. In fact, you don't think you had ever wanted anything more, and it was that that scared you. You had already lost law school—you couldn't let the only other thing in your life let you go. So you pulled the trigger first.

"We should just end things. I'm sorry. I can't give you what you need."

He packed his bag within the hour, and you think everything, from then on, froze inside you. You didn't move from your seat until your parents came home from the airport later that day and asked why there were two plates of toast still on the table.

You think you knew, someplace, inevitably, this would happen. You, who only knew hunger, had reached deep inside Mingyu and rooted out a love you didn't think you were worthy of having. And yet you still ate from the vine, bite after guilty bite, until you couldn't take any more. The only time he asked you for anything at all, you couldn't give it to him—such was the irony of your relationship.

Maybe you were doomed the moment the first strawberry hit your tongue, just like you had said, all that time ago.

About a month later, you got another letter in the mail. Chungnam National University Law School, it read. This one was fat, in one of those brown envelopes lined with bubble wrap. Somehow, miraculously, that position on the waitlist had turned into an acceptance. You held the package to your chest and cried, loud and with abandon, as if taking a deep breath after almost drowning.

Ironically, the first person you wanted to tell was Mingyu. But the good news you needed to save your relationship came too little, too late. Perhaps that meant it had no legs to stand on in the first place, but that didn't stop you from missing it. Instead, you told Yizhuo, and she drove you to Jeju City and treated you to dinner. "You should just call him," she had said. "Hey, don't look at me like that. He'd probably pick up on the first ring."

The city is swathed in August's crimson summer—peach season. The narrow streets are lined with peach trees, the fruits glowing like fat drops of sunlight. All you do these days is plan for your eventual move to Daejeon and the start of a life that seems newer and shinier than your own. But surrounded by the cicada song, the velvet treeline, the rain-soaked asphalt, somehow you think you're going to miss Seogwipo more than you think.

(Fickle, fickle heart. You always needed things to be taken away to really be able to appreciate them. Somehow, all that wanting had boiled down to something more satisfying, more filling.)

You wonder how Mingyu is. Now that you think about it, he seems just as much a part of Seogwipo as the farm he lives on. It was only last summer when you had first met him in the field, set on fire by the strawberry harvest. You think about him now, peddling around that ridiculous wicker basket to make jam. Maybe talking to another pretty girl, someone as naive, cruel as you had been.

Not long ago, you considered calling him to apologize, but that'd just be another thing to be selfish about. A little time and some warm weather, and I’m calling to finally wash my hands of you. That's what it would sound like, no matter what you said. Still, it didn't stop you from thinking of him, every flower, every season.

"You know, I always wanted to grow peach trees. But I think we've always been a pear kind of family."

Mingyu. If a voice could cut through air, it'd be his.

You whip around, half-believing you're hearing things. Certainly that would be easier, but you're learning that there are some things you can't run from.

And like a picture, Mingyu stands tall, golden, framed by the peach blossoms. Not a thing about him has changed. Not even the way he looks at you.

"Mingyu," you breathe. Unfortunately, none of the times you replayed your last conversation with him help you come up with something to say, because in none of them did you anticipate him coming back. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I live here, silly."

"No way," you reply, scrambling. "Crazy, because I live here too."

You both laugh nervously, a silly, bubbly thing, but you feel like you're going to throw up. It's only now that you realize you're kind of on the walk to his place. Seogwipo has never had places to hide.

"I...um." You try and disentangle the guilt from the nostalgia from the scent of the peaches and the warmth on his face. They all look the same. You missed him. "I got into law school. In Daejeon."

"I heard," he says. "Not surprised at all. I always knew you would."

"Thank you. I mean it." The cicadas buzz around you, as if they know they have an important silence to fill. "You're staying in town, right?"

"Actually, I decided to apply to culinary school. It finally felt right, you know? I'm leaving at the end of the summer, but it's just in Jeju City. I couldn't leave the island."

"Thank goodness. I don't know if you could tell, but I kind of always hoped you would. I don't think I’ve ever eaten better food." Your voice wobbles, but it gets there. "You'll do amazing."

Then time stretches and forces you to recognize, reckon with, the moment you're in. You wonder if he feels the same way you do—bruised, overripe. If there's still a space in his heart for you.

Deep breath. Life only gives you so many chances.

"Mingyu, I’m sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't make us work. You deserved better." Saying it feels like peeling the skin of your heart back. There's still a palpable distance between the two of you—you think that had always been there—but it feels more comfortable in a way it never did before.

"Don’t apologize," he says, easily, as he always does. Everything seems to flow off him like water, and you think that's the part of him you loved the most because it was the one thing you couldn't touch. "We loved each other. I think that much was true."

A jasmine breeze curls through the trees, sending the blossoms fluttering around you like ink in water. The very first time you met Mingyu, you thought the image of him, haloed with the sunset, was the one you wanted to keep forever. And yet, somehow, you don't think you'll ever forget the way he looks right now.

"Will you ever come back to Seogwipo?" you ask.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing—you were always the one who wanted to get out of here." He grins, ear to ear. "Of course I'm coming back. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

"Yeah. I think I know what you mean."

The sea, the clay dirt, Mingyu. Even yourself, clumsy and care-worn. You think, somewhere along the line, you forgot how to love. But you're learning—one step at a time.

"Friends," you say. "Let's be friends. If you'll let me."

"Thought you would never ask. Gladly. Always." The space between you seizes, like it's holding in a breath. Maybe one day, you'll think of closing it once more, but you like where you stand now. You can admire him better from a distance, without your fingerprints all over him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, something he does before he gets ready to leave. But before he does—"I'll see you soon, okay? You better come back. Promise me."

For the first time, you see the honesty in his eyes and you really, truly believe him.

"Promise."

The Seogwipo sun is high and red in the sky when you wave Mingyu goodbye. It feels like you're coming to an end of a long summer, but you're not afraid. You watch the wind dance through the peach blossoms, their branches never searching, never wanting, and you finally feel as if you've arrived home.

#literally on my hands and knees begging for the tags to work #mine #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu angst #seventeen angst #mingyu imagines

[chrollosbm]

Jujutsu Kaisen Men + Period Sex

basically my take on if i think they would be down for period sex, and how far they would go

characters mentioned: gojo, geto, nanami, choso

female reader, no mention of her features but i'm black so, established relationship, slight aftercare with geto and nanami

cw: blood (duh,) cramps, unprotected sex, piv sex, begging, rough sex, overstimulation, cum eating, blood drinking, it's pretty nasty but i'm a kinky fuck, lowercase, barely proofread

Satoru Gojo:

y'all he is so down

what isn't this man down for?

he would definitely fuck you on your period, and he wouldn't be grossed out or anything by your blood

he would in fact enjoy it because he loves how much more lubrication there is

he loves how much your tits swell and how they're so sensitive to the touch and how your nipples are erect without him having to do anything

he does anyways, using his talented, thick tongue, but makes sure to be gentle after a scolding from you about how much it hurts when he uses too much pressure

he gives you that toothy grin with an apology even though he's not really sorry, your tits seems to grow almost a full cup size according to Satoru, so he's going to relish in it

he is such a boobs guy to me so he's super excited to stuff his face in your cleavage randomly throughout the day

you act like it annoys you but you find it funny how obsessed your boyfriend is with them

it freaks you out how he just knows you're on your period just by taking a look at them though

"hm...looks like someone's about to start bleeding from their vagina" he'd throw out casually out of nowhere, electric blue eyes fixated on your covered bosom, causing you to give him a creeped out stare, partially from the way he'd phrased that sentence, the other part from his odd hypothesis

that night in the bathroom you would wipe and see he was in fact very spot on

anyway, when he's super horny and you're not in the mood due to excruciating cramps, he convinces to get nasty with him by reminding you that orgasms help with the pain

which proceeds him to start eating you out as you're basically on your death bed, heavy flow and all

you try to tell him how much you're bleeding, but he really does not give a fuck at all

so he goes to work on your clit, not caring about the extra metallic taste of your pussy, just flicking and sucking and making out with your sensitive clit, driving you over the edge embarrassingly quickly.

like you don't know if it's from the sensitivity from your time of the month, or if Satoru is purposely trying to drive you to your orgasm quicker than usual, but he has you grinding on his face, forgetting that it's a blood bath down there.

he was right, after he has you seeing stars the pain from the assault on your uterus ceases to exist

when he comes up with that red sheen on the pale skin of his nose, and bottom of his face, your cheeks get so hot from embarrassment that they start to hurt, but he reassures you that he loves the taste of you, even your blood

like he's grinning like you just took him to get his favorite treat from his most frequented bakery

obviously fucks you afterwards

tries to be gentle but ultimately loses himself in the process because of how wet you are, the squelches from both your arousal and blood are driving him insane

your warm walls are suffocating his large cock with the way it's squeezing around him each time he presses that gummy spot inside you

his pretty eyes are rolling to the back of his head as he holds your legs towards the ceiling, releasing his hot, potent cum inside of you shortly after and just creating a mess of fluids onto the towel below the two of you

he's smiling again, the bottom of his face a dark red color now and you can't help but laugh

"oh you didn't cum? let me help you with that" and he's going to down below again, not caring about the mixture leaking out of you

your man is such a nasty fucking freak and you're so lucky

Suguru Geto

not super into period sex, but would try it once with you just to see what it's like

wouldn't suggest it, you would have to ask for it

he would say yes of course, out of curiosity and because he'd read somewhere that orgasms can ease your pain

and he adores you and doesn't like seeing you in agony, so he'll do anything to help

loves the feeling of your tight cunt as he's thrusting into you gently with his breath heavy, strands of his hair sticking to his skin, his lip caught in his teeth as he's smirking down at your pretty, fucked out face, glad this seems to be helping

he's sure to be gentle with you, as he knows you're in pain, which you appreciate

he enjoys how much wetter it is, and how you seem to be enjoying it as well with how much you're vocalizing your pleasure, rather than the whines of pain you were letting out beforehand

would still last pretty long, trying to drive that orgasm out of you before he releases his load into you

he's not a selfish lover by any means, so even if he does cum quickly, he would go another round for you, regardless of how oversensitive his girthy cock would be

would not eat you out

he's open to a lot but not that open

probably wouldn't want to look at the scene below the two of you after you've finished, knowing your blood was probably stained on his pelvis and your thighs

not grossed out or anything from it, he just doesn't want to know what your body is doing to you, it would make him feel your pain with you

would still carry you to the shower to wash the both of you up though, he wants to make sure you're comfortable and clean before putting you back to bed

he's whispering sweet nothings into your ears and kissing your cheeks as he washes in between your legs, the red hue running down the shower drain

would probably do it again, just wouldn't make it a regular thing

Kento Nanami

it's a regular thing between you two

like he's a simple man, a period doesn't stop anything but a sentence to him

the two of you have a routine with sex, you have an understanding of when you can and can't, it's usually a couple times a week when he isn't too tired after work

like i said he's pretty normal about it

you'll just be like, "oh, Kento i started my period," and he's like "i know, the app on my phone told me"

then when you're about to get nasty he'll grab the towel and proceed as usual

he wouldn't eat you out, though

sorry i have the mindset of Kento being slightly vanilla besides the whole rough sex and hair pulling thing, so although giving you head while you're bleeding doesn't gross him out or anything, he just doesn't prefer to do it

he would if you asked though, you would just have to put a tampon in and he would focus on your clit, knowing exactly how to drive you wild that way

would probably take you two minutes tops to cum, he pays attention to your reactions and knows what you like so he can get you there pretty fast

when he's inside of you he's very gentle, almost too gentle really

like you'll roll your eyes and get irritated with the way he's treating you like you're fragile

"baby, but you are fragile right now" he'd say sincerely and you would whine with your bottom lip quivering, so frustrated and emotional and fucking horny

how could he resist giving you what you wanted?

so now he has you bent like a pretzel, plowing into you roughly just like you asked and you feel fucking fantastic, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as you're sputtering your words of gratitude throughout the room

neither of you last long of course, with the way he's thrusting into you and the way your warm, gooey pussy is sucking him in has the both of you seeing stars only minutes later

the aftercare is immaculate of course

he runs the two of you a bath with muscle relaxing bath salts

his large body is behind you, kissing your sticky, moist forehead and giving you praise of how well you did for him

you cling to your thoughtful, lovely boyfriend and fall asleep in the bathtub with the warmth of the water and the complete erasure of your cramps, feeling safe and protected in his arms

Choso

another freak i'm telling you

doesn't give a fuckkkkkkk

he's going to town on your pussy, he can never get enough of it, so why would a little or a lot of blood stop him?

he's the one who's in fact begging you to let him fuck you

like this man prefers period sex over normal sex

"Choso it's gross down there, i don't want you to see me like that" you'd said the first time he'd asked to try it out pretty early on in your relationship

that pitiful pout on his face would make you reconsider what you said almost too quickly

"baby, please, 'wanna fuck you so bad, 'wanna make you feel better" his voice came out so pathetic, so unrecognizable, with his pupils shaking as the grip on your hips tightened from his large hands

so now he's going down on you, slurping up your blood and juices so loudly, moaning and talking into it of how good you taste, how wet you are, how sexy you look with your swollen tits

another boobs guy

he's using his fingers too, thick digits sliding in and out your hole easily from the extra lubrication, not ignoring your g-spot and pressing into it over and over again, and you're delirious from his ministrations

he doesn't neglect your boobs, with them looking extra large and perky, being sure to bring his blood-stained hands up to your upper half, gently fondling with your nipples, creating a a sticky mess on your chest

you cum hard, tears coming out your eyes and legs trembling and he uses his arms to lock you in as he opens his mouth wider to clean you up, not stopping until you're the one begging

he loves when you ride him, so you're sitting on his abnormally large cock, bouncing up and down roughly, creating splashes and large squelch sounds, blood running down his thigh and onto the towel he'd laid down

Choso looks like he's in fucking heaven, wetness coming out the side of his dark red-stained mouth and you continue to rock your hips on him, driving yourself closer

it's fucking messy

so messy you'd wished you'd laid out multiple towels, because now you're going to have to change your sheets at two in the morning

he loves looking down at the crime scene below you, witnessing how dirty the two of you have gotten makes his dick twitch inside you and he's letting out fucking whimpers

he's never been one to last super long while inside of you, so when he brings his wonderous fingers down to your clit and starts rubbing vigorously on the wet bundle of nerves, you know he's close

he's on a mission so as soon as you're feeling that sweet sense of relief, with your eyes fluttering shut and your pretty moans filling the room loudly, he shoots hot ropes of his cum into your throbbing cunt

he's just a pussy whipped freak, so he'll do anything as long as it means his head, hands, or cock are in between your legs

my masterlist

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x female reader #satoru gojo #gojo smut #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x black reader #gojo x female reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #geto suguru #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #choso x reader #geto x female reader #geto x black reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you

[zeldasnotes]

MARS NOTES🔥

Check out ⮕ Moon Notes, Venus Notes and Neptune Notes

If your kid or sibling got their Mars in the 10th house or Mars conjunct Midheaven please keep an eye on what they are doing on the internet. This placement is common in people who either gets bullied or bully others, especially online.

Ever since I read somewhere that people with Mars in Scorpio looks sex starved I cant stop seeing it. They really got this hot heavy energy surrounding them screaming ”Ive been waiting for too long”

Mars in the 1st house makes someone smoking hot just look at Megan Fox.

Mars in the 8th house synastry is one of my favorite aspects if its with your prefered sex and someone you are attracted to otherwise its just annoying. Im a straight woman and I dont like having another womans mars in my 8th because its giving ”Why are you so obsessed with me?”

Mars Square Pluto are so goal oriented I seriously want this placement. Like they always come out on top. If they want it they get it.

Having Mars in the same sign as someone creates such rivalry its insane. Like you just cant help it because you want the same things and you use the same strategies. You see through eachother. This aspects is better in romantic relationships.

I always know when someone got their rising in the same sign as my mars because I cant stop staring at them.

Mars in the 1st house & Mars in the 8th house in synastry is super common between couples who had sex the first time they met.

If someone you work with got their Mars in your 6th house be careful because this can be a secret enemy or a workrival. They might gossip about you to the boss.

Mars on the Ascendant or Midheaven can really make someone look like a model.

Ive noticed that people with Mars in Leo can read into stuff too much to feed their ego. I have a friend with that placement who works in a store and there is this guy she dated years ago who always goes to that store. She thinks he goes there to see her and that he is obsessed with her. When I try to tell her that he probably goes there because the store is his neighbourhood store shes like ”No”. 😂 The funny part is that this man have been living in this neighbourhood since he was a child so hes been going to that store his whole life, deep down she knows this.

Ive noticed that Mars in Taurus people are naturally beautiful and look like they could model. They just naturally move in a sensual way like they are posing.

Mars aspecting Jupiter are like a bull in a chinashop. Sooo clumsy but they are so funny and kind😂

Mars in Scorpio women gets into a lot of conflicts with men. Men are so threathened by them.

Mars Square Jupiter haaates waiting. They want what they want now.

Mars aspecting the Ascendant have a ”dont try me” look to their face and their walk.

My Mars Square a mans Ascendant usually makes it hard for me to see him as husband material.

Mars Square Moon and Mars Square Uranus can really make someone explode out of nowhere.

Mars conjunct Venus is definitely the IT girl aspect.

Mars conjunct Midheaven can make you known for your body. Either by modeling or being an influencer. Your looks are seen as hot by the general public. Huge risk for being involved in scandals here tho

Mars in Virgo use their words to hurt people when they fight.

Mars in Sagittarius have the most beautiful body. I know Ive said it before but those legs are just gorgeous. 🐎

Mars in Aquarius is such a beautiful placement to have.They fight for equality. A rapper in my hometown got this and people complained about him having women who look too ”regular and plain” in his music videos instead of hiring strippers or escorts for his videos. But he refused to hire unrealistic women for his videos.

© 2022 Zeldas Notes

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #ascendant #mars square ascendant #birth chart readings

[ramons-elevator]

I just wanna take the time to list the fucking bugs on the QSMP because they range from mildly inconvenient to this has changed history forever and they are the weirdest fucking bugs

Broken hearts: this is the bug of when people log in, it shows half of their hearts just being blacked out and it take someone smacking you to get them back. Its very funny when an egg or someone randomly goes "hey hit me". Honorary mention is when someone gets withered and the withered hearts stay. Very angsty I love.

Broken voice: this is many things, but mainly when someone has to deafen and undeafen when someone relogs. It was a big problem in early days because people didnt know and it was annoying, but now its just common knowledge.

Sweeping edge: Me and my homies hate this bug. Basically it was a line of code in one of the mods that got bugged and instead of sweeping edge dealing 0.5 of the damage of a hit, it would deal 5 time more. For example, when Etoiles and Bad were testing it out, Pomme hit Bad with a weapon and it killed Etoiles who was next to Bad. This is more than likely the cause of deaths for Tilin and Juanaflippa. Im glad it got fixed, but it still installs fear into OG islanders to this day.

Dorime bug: The funniest and stupidest bug of all. Dorime randomly playing out of nowhere and the only way to get it to stop is to turn musicbox noises on and off. It happens enough that people usually have their musicbox noises turned off at all times

Sound bug: Sounds be loud. Even from hundreds of blocks away. This is elevator sounds, monster/demon sounds, camera sounds, etc. Its normal at this point, but it sometimes freaks people out and think admins are fucking with them.

Dapper's flying hammer bug: A recent bug, but when Dapper and someone fight and Dapper hits them with their hammer, they start flying indefinitely or until they relog. The first time this happened was fucking insane because it was Dapper and Ramon doing their usual fighting and then Ramon started flying away. Fit, Bad, and Dapper all had no idea what to do and were all freaking out/crying laughing.

Ramon's duping bug: A bug that's been fixed, but Ramon figured out that if you sling shot something in a certain way (I think it was in the Copacabana ocean?) it would dupe a whole stack of whatever was shot. This also lead to Ramon and Fit figuring out that if you sling shot a waystone, it fucking crashes the server. Which led to a day where everyone was using that so they can keep doing Lucky Ducks.

Death bug: This is when someone has the visual of "0.0/100.0 Time left 00:00:00" stuck on their screen. Usually leads to someone BEGGING someone to let them kill them. Pretty funny and dumb.

Eggs being tall: Aka eggs models not loading for people. It usually makes people try to roleplay their way out and being scared of tall eggs. I.E. "Tall Richas isnt real" or Cellbit screaming in horror in purgatory when the lil eye guy model wasnt loading and saying the castle is haunted.

Teleport bug: Not very common, but some times if someone is trying to use their warpstone, they particles start to fly around them and they dont stop until the person lets go of the warpstone. This can make a wall of purple particles around someone.

Egg names: This is a very early "bug". In the beginning, in order for the parents to name their egg, they had to right click their eggs and name them. This made people accidentally name their eggs stuff like "eee" or "Wwww". Also other parents naming other eggs other names (Mariana named Leo "shit" and Foolish named Juana "Marianaisabitchjr"). On the first day, for some reason, everyone was named "TILIN" for like 5 minutes. This 'bug' also got the iconic clip of Phil right clicking on the OG code and he got a chance to name it and it freaked him out.

Im pretty sure there's a lot more, but I love how insanely modded server has the weirdest bugs known to man. Feel free to add any you remember.

#qsmp #qsmp eggs

[rottindecay]

Hobie Brown Headcannons!

just some silly stuff ! >__<

warnings: i believe none.

[this is my first time ever posting smth like this..hopefully it’s good enough.]

*Reblogs, notes n comments r much appreciated >O<!*

Starting off strong- this man definitely craves physical touch. Like have you SEEN him with the anarch-kids?

He cant live with out ur touch like seriously, it would drive this man insane.

You love your personal space? He loves yours too.

Especially out in public. This guy will have a finger around one of your belt loops/belt, holding onto your bag or hand, even has his arm snaked around your waist or shoulder. He needs your touch!!

he loves to cuddle. More of a big spoon kinda guy because he finds it funny how his body just completely takes over yours, ykwim? (If ur shorter than him ofc)

but won’t mind being little spoon fr. Loves to have his head laying on your chest as you guys sleep in each others arms.

Speaking of sleeping- he’s a really heavy sleeper.

when he sleeps he’s sprawled all over the bed so good luck trying to wake him up to give you room.

When you do try to move him, he dosent move or make room for you LMAO

he just groans before pulling you into his embrace and resting his chin on your head fast asleep with his arm around your waist.

He’s an ass lover.

Wearing shorts around the house? He’s telling you you look good in them. Bending over to pick something up? He’s playfully slapping ur ass and snickering as he does so.

Like- if your on youre phone or reading a book or whatever and your laying on your stomach, he’s gunna come over and lay his head on ur ass like a pillow and take a nap or do smth on his phone.

Same with thighs fr

When you guys are out walking around or doing something and you have back pockets, expect his hand in your pocket.

Because he could keep you close and get to feel your ass. Win win in his book!

He loves ur ass!!!!!!

He adores little trinkets.

He has them all over his house

Like the first time you walked into his house, you just saw a lot of bowls laying around in places like in his room, kitchen, living room ext with just small little knickknacks he found or bought (stole)

Loves to receive and gift them to people hes close with.

He’s like a crow honestly.

90% of the time when you guys are hugging, he would go limp out of nowhere and now here you are trying to hold up a 6’5 180 lbs guy as he’s chuckling his ass off.

Puts his arm on your shoulder or head like an armrest.

Never calls u by ur first name. always has some nickname for you like “darling” (since he’s a Brit n all) or a nickname that connects to an embarrassing moment of urs LMFAO

He’s stupidly smart but dosent put effort in it ykwim?

Same goes for cleaning like yeah he could clean it, but why would he? He knows where everything is so it’s fine.

Also loves to hug u from behind and burry his face into your neck.

Also neck kissed Are his favorite thing like cmon now.

Honestly dosent care What pronoun you use. You could call him ball/ballself and he would look over at you without batting an eye to that.

Knows how to sing, just dosent do it. But if u ask nicely he would as he strums his guitar professionally!

He snores and drools everytime he sleeps.

Also luvs to do and wash ur hair for u.

Hobie has ADHD idc argue with the wall.

If ur ever doing chores around the house he’s 100% always going to help you with whatever your doing even if it’s something as simple as sweeping the floors. He dosent want you to think your juggling to many responsibilities.

Typa guy to know a guy. He knows a lot of people.

All his fingers are decorated with rings. Once you guys start to actually get serious he would give you one of his favorite rings since he dosent believe in marriage.

It’s nothing too big though, it’s just a simple silver band that’s obviously been shown some love throughout the years.

Dosent really label your guys relationship. Why would he need to box you in like that? It’s stupid. He knows he can trust you and you can trust him so there’s no need to be calling each other “boyfriend” and “girlfriend”

Makes playlists for you and burns them into CD’s

We all know he’s alr stupidly smart, yeah? Well he was the kinda kid to always be sleeping in class, not do any work and fail it even though he was the smartest mf there.

Also hated to do homework so he didn’t do it. Who was gunna stop him? NOBODY.

Also sucks at spelling tbh

Like he dosent care abt it. “Apple” is now “aple.”

Loves to DIY stuff like clothes, pins, patches, jewelry n much more!

He’s punk so he obviously listens to punk music, but he also listens to more than that. He hates consistency !!

I think he would be a really good cook he just won’t put effort in exploring that part of him LMAO

he obviously has really good sense of style. I think a lot of people forget he was FORMALLY A RUNWAY MODEL. HELLOOOO???

So if he sees shitty quality clothes, hes gunna point it out to you and suggest something else.

When being taken out on dates he dosent really do anything fancy, not his style yk?

But he does take you out on the most amazing places only a few know.

Shows you the coolest pubs hidden in alleyways, site seeing, walking around London in his dimension and just little fun activities.

(maybe even steal from big corporations too.)

#i love him #hobie x reader #hobie brainrot #hobie brown #headcannons #hobie headcanons #hobie brown headcanons #atsv #astv hobie #brain rot #!!!!!!!!!1 #across the spiderverse #zombie #deadspiders23 #Spotify

[slashingdisneypasta]

Slashers React: To Their S/O...

Slashers (Sans Chucky) reacting to their S/O getting a Chucky doll.

Bubba: NO. That thing is not coming into this house.

Freddy: "Oops!... look at that... turns out it's not explosives resistant... my bad!~ "

Jason: *Drop kicks it across camp* *Looks at you looking shocked at him* *Shrugs and goes back into the cabin* // Jason's not even gonna explain himself 😅😂

Slashers (Sans Bubba) reacting to their S/O going to the middle of Texas.

Chucky: Oh no you are NOT- Chucky will tie you to a chair or lock you in a closet. This is for your own good 😅

Freddy: ... in that case he might have to pay Bubba a visit first...

Jason: He'll go with you. No that's not a request- he's coming with. (He knows Bubba. But Bubba doesn't know you. So he'll be your body guard ^^)

Slashers (Sans Freddy) reacting to their S/O having a nightmare.

Bubba: No. No. No- Bubba wakes you up immediately and gives you a check-up before sending you back to sleep like it's okay. Go back to sleep now. You're not being targeted by a terrible burnt bacon man. (He's calm, now... but you sure become rather startled after that! XD )

Chucky: ... *trying very hard not to over react* ... ... ... THATS IT! *Smacks you with a pillow and when you wake up fine and ask why the hell he did that he just says oh well i couldnt fucking sleep next to you snoring like a damn ogre next to me*

Jason: well... You two will not be sleeping for the next several days....

Slashers (Sans Jason) reacting to their S/O getting a job as a camp councillor.

Bubba: Ha... no you're not. This is less about Jason and more about the fact that you are not leaving him for a whole summer! Nope.

Chucky: "Haha! Funny joke, doll... the hell do you mean you're not joking?? You're not going shopping for bathers- Get the fuck back here, haven't you ever seen a goddamn movie??"

Freddy: uhuh... Freddy acts fine but the next thing you know you're having a drink or something and you only realise TOO LATE that the barista is actually your insane partner in a wig and Starbucks apron and, uh, yeah you've been drugged. Now you're going nowhere.

#Slashers x Reader #Slasher Reactions #Slashers React #Bubba Sawyer #Bubba Sawyer x Reader #Chucky #Charles Lee Ray #Chucky x Reader #Charles Lee Ray x Reader #Freddy Krueger #Freddy Krueger x Reader #Jason Voorhees #Jason Voorhees x Reader #Slashers

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Referring to how Leona is an actually good leader, it's still very funny to think about how annoyed Vil must be when Epel idolized Leona while fighting for his life struggling under Vil's tutelage. Like "how could you prefer that good-for-nothing-except-his-face over ME?" kinda thing. (Yes I love all of them but I love to see them suffer more <3)

[Referencing this post!]

Leona definitely projects very different images depending on the circumstances! His club and dorm members all look up to him because, to them, he come off as a role model. He's strong, cunning, and exudes confidence. To everyone else (people he doesn't actively lead, or people he stands on par with in terms of power and influence), he's seen as lazy and rude because Leona does not care for putting on airs and finds social grace tiring to deal with.

Nowhere is this dichotomy better exemplified than in Epel's Birthday Jacket vignettes. In them, Epel, a first year and a Magift Club member, describes Leona as someone who is good at looking out for others like him. This confuses his interviewer, Floyd, who responds that it "doesn't sound like" the Sea Lion-senpai he's familiar with. Epel then confesses to not really seeing Leona much outside of club, so he doesn't actually know about what Leona is like most of the time. This just goes to show that Leona naturally shines and is at his best when he's in a scenario where he has to lead others.

Now, regarding Vil and his feelings on Leona... 🤔 It's true that Vil dislikes Leona (and, more specifically, his attitude) and may be disapproving of Epel idolizing the guy, but I get the sense that those feelings stem in part from disappointment, not just blind hatred or not liking how Leona dresses/speaks. Vil's someone who has exceedingly high standards for himself and for the people he surrounds himself with. He despises it when people don't give a task their all, or don't live up to their full potential. That is exactly the case with Leona. Vil has a VERY keen and discerning eye; I suspect that he noticed a long time ago that Leona's not putting forth all of his effort and just doing the bare minimum to scrape by, and that's what further stokes Vil's frustrations with him. An example of this is the very superficial aspect of Leona's looks. Vil admits that Leona has a handsome face, but doesn't dress the part at all. The same goes for his other traits and abilities, and even his grades (which are low due to poor attendance even though Leona himself is insanely smart). That's the thing: Leona could be great, but instead he's wasting it all and choosing to not be "his best" at all times--an ideology which exists in blatant opposition to Vil. Here we have two powerful, intelligent, talented individuals who worked hard to get to where they are now (even though they were already born into affluent families). They didn't choose to just coast by life on their family's names alone. One of them literally makes a living off of showing the world how perfect he is, and all the effort he puts in to achieving that perfection. But the other has gone the other route, not willing to put forth that effort to anything that he doesn't find useful or interesting. They've both become disillusioned with the world, which has provided them nothing in spite of all the times they tried to prove themselves. They weren't rewarded with a heroic role, nor the coveted crown., but they've got the charisma that inspires others to follow them and to show them respect. They can recognize others' strengths and are in positions where they can guide others towards those strengths. They're so alike, and I think that only feeds their dislike of one another. To Leona, Vil's a try-hard that always changes his personality to look good for the public. To Vil, Leona's callous and carelessly tossing away his own potential. It makes them a worthy rival of the other.

DBKHILdsbiDIvqfosd1436g17b Okay, I kind of strayed a bit from the initial ask, but yeah!! Vil would probably be annoyed with Epel looking up to Leona because Leona isn't at 100% all of the time (whereas Vil tries to be). The two have very different ideas of how their energy is best spent, and with Vil being Epel's dorm leader and all, he feels like it's his responsibility to lead Epel the "Pomefiore" way, not Leona's way.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Leona Kingscholar #Floyd Leech #Vil Schoenheit #Epel Felmier #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #twst analysis #twisted wonderland analysis #twst character analysis #twisted wonderland character analysis

[homocrafting]

turns out whatever instinct in me makes me want to make tma aus is unstoppable and all consuming. so here's qsmp tma au focused on the brazillians:

cellbit- he HAS to be the archivist ok this man is so eye aligned it's not even funny. HOWEVER because qcellbit and fcell are the same person, Events happened to him before he became the Archivist, ala from the archives grian. local paranormal enthusiast finds dead half eaten bodies, gets arrested for it (he SWEARS he didn't eat those people), goes to prison for 10 years, goes nuts (becomes F!Cell), kills himself in the island, wakes up in his room and Felps tells him "bro you disappeared for 10 days are you ok" and he's just like. What.

Worth mentioning that he fucking speedruns the archives. also known as the qsmp. Cucurucho, who is kind of like elias but a bit less (I inagine the Host would be elias, wjoever they are), thinks "wooo new archivist I wonder how long it'll take them to find out abt the horrors" and then cellbit shows up 3 days later running on 2 hours of sleep and 20 mugs of coffee with a consipracy board connecting a bunch of statements and theorizing about entities

ALSO the web is around him like all the time. if you pay attention there's at least 2 spiders near him at all times, usually hidden because he squishes them when he sees them. he's tangled in the web of lies that is the plot I'm making for this au and his ass is NOT beating it

Felps- Stranger type of guy who doesn't even know and takes like. a year to realise something's up with him. don't worry abt it ok I don't know why he's stranger-y to me either. it's the vibes just trust me

Mike- ok so. I am Very unsure for pac and mike, PLUS I've not seen herobrine a lenda, which means I don't know all their backstory, BUT I'm thinking Lonely for Mike, so far? he kind of distances himself from everyone after richas dies with him, so far is the only person I've not seen much gay happenings happen to, tends to disappear to fuckall nowhere apparently, as one does. also the fact that, back in prison, he seemed to have the most difficulty connecting with others.

also, the Desolation hates him personally. he doesn't know why. his house has burnt down thrice. he gets burnt by the littlest things for no reason. he's banned from the kitchen. an avatar of the desolation tried to kill him once. he watched his own son die in front of him. this is based on nothing from qsmp or anything I've seen Mike do I just think it's funny

Pac- I can only think of Vast and Spiral for him tee bee eich. Leaning heavily towards the Vast because, you know. gestures to the giant hide and seek maps, and also O RAIO, even though I have 0 context for that. he just... he explores the world and made giant hole (yeah yeah holes are the buried but consider: it's big.). it's his "I can show you the world" vibes. again dude just trust me

note abt tazercraft: both of them are very, very touched by the Spiral. reason? Chume Labs

Forever- I'm thinking either the Buried (mostly the digging aspect- he's destroyed a whole mountain and dug up and entire desert), or the Hunt (his intense hunt for Phil's love, the insane grinding that could be seen as hunting for resources, the werewolf hc my beloved). Leaning more towards the Hunt bc dogboyyyyy

The plot I have in mind is very different from the tma plot, but I'm not sure of everything yet, so for now you get this little bpnus :)

[CLICK]

[Cellbit]

We've been back from the Adoption Center for about a day now. Not a timely update, but things happened, and, well.

We found... we found a weird... creature. It- he? Acts human, although he can't talk. He communicates with us through a little notebook, and overall acts incredibly childish. He sure looks like a child. One with- with some material akin to... to egg shells as skin. He has hair, despite apparently being all... eggy. It's black and curly, covers his face. He doesn't like it when we try to move it away from there, but we're working on a safe way to see what's under there.

He seems not to know where he came from, but I know he's lying. It's- there's no way he doesn't, not with what he said, I don't care if Pac and Mike or, hell, Felps believes him, He called us fucking- he called us dads! That's the first fucking thing he said! It has to be some kind of trap, some kind of spy, I don't know yet but when I find out I'm going to fucking-

Shit. That wasn't too professional. Alright, where were we.

We brought him to the Institute. Forever and I weren't thrilled about the idea, but it was 3 against 2. I can't believe Felps would- I get Pac and Mike, there's something wrong with them I'm sure of it, but Felps? I underestimated his braincells. What am I talking about, he doesn't have any.

(Soft chuckle)

We, we named him Richarlyson, he seemed to like it. We asked his name first, but all he did was draw a- (Snort) a stick figure shrugging.

The only clothes he has are a singular oversized Brazil shirt. The moços and Felps want to go buy him clothes.

I don't know how they'll justify the kid having, I don't know, pure white hard skin, but they said not to worry about it, so I guess I won't! I won't. I fucking won't.

... I'm gonna follow them tomorrow. Just to be safe.

That's all for today, I'm gonna go- I'm going to check some statements, see if there's anything even remotely related to this.

This is Cellbit, Head Archivist of the QSMP, which I still don't known what stands for by the way, signing off.

[CLICK]

#cellbit #forever player #forever #richarlyson #felps #tazercraft #pactw #mikethelink #brazil world domination #qsmp #hmmm I need a tag for this au #the quesadilla archives #<- idk if that's gonna be permanent but that's it for now #favela five

[starpirateee]

I saw a headcannon once that Curt and Owen both have very strong Texan and Cockney (London working class) accents respectively, but have to use toned-down generic American/British accents when on the job. Do you think you could write something of them drunk, injured, sleepy, or stressed (basically in a scenario where theyre not thinking too much about their accent) where it slips out, and either confuses or entertains the other? Thanks! (also i love your writing so much its insane :D)

I have bought into this headcanon before, both sides of it! Working class Owen is something that can be so personal, actually, and full on cowboy Curt is so goddamn fun! Certainly will be good respite from the last fic 👀

Curt was bleeding and barely capable of holding himself together. He'd forced himself to keep face, not looking down enough to be able to see it. It was bad enough that he could feel it, sticky and viscous against his hand. That alone was enough to make him feel nauseous, but he was a professional. He knew how to deal with wounds without feeling the need to pass out.

Owen did as he always did. For him, it was just another part of the job, be it his own blood or someone else's, it was all the same when it came down to it. He had been the one to patch Curt up often enough, it was practically routine. This instance was no different.

With Curt suitably positioned, leaning back against his hands, Owen found the kit he needed and got to work. Curt dug his hands into the sofa to avoid having any kind of reaction to the stitches.

"I think you're lucky..." Owen remarked, laying his hand either side of the wound. "A few inches further down and you could say goodbye to ever charming a lady to the bedroom again..."

Curt tried to huff a breath of laughter, but that did nothing for him except make everything hurt more. "Ugh, god, please don't try an' be funny, I can't handle it-!"

Owen knew that Curt had always had a certain lilt to his words, some kind of intonation lost to time, but he'd never quite heard it like that before. He said nothing, but thinking about it had made him falter. The needle slipped a little, and Curt cursed under his breath.

"Jeez, Owen, ya couldn't take it easy?" He hissed.

No, he hadn't been hearing things. Curt really had slipped into a far more prominent southern twang than was normally present in his voice. One that he never even thought he'd hear from him. "Of... Course, I'm sorry." However surprised he was by that, it didn't stop the task at hand, or the need to finish it before it became too hard to see through the blood that was pooling.

Curt raised an eyebrow. "What'cha lookin' at me like that for?"

"I knew you were a southerner, but I didn't know it was supposed to be that obvious..."

"Wha-? Oh, fuckin' hell." Disappointment and something close to annoyance lingered on his face. He sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I grew up in Texas. I tell people Austin, but that's just cos it's easier than sayin' some nowhere town 'bout fifty miles out."

"What's wrong with it?"

"Huh?"

"You don't seem particularly happy about it."

"It's just, I spent weeks on tonin' this accent down so I wouldn't stand out so much when I was on the job, y'know? All that, then it just goes an' comes back when I'm not thinkin' 'bout it..."

Owen nodded, and pressed down a little harder to alleviate some of the sensation from the needle. "It's a stress response, reverting back to accents that don't take so much strain to uphold." He answered automatically, feeling Curt shift a little bit under his hand.

"Right. Yeah. Somethin' like that."

"You don't have to think about it at all— you presumably grew up sounding like that... So you're focusing on something like the pain of being shot, and suddenly-"

"I'm seventeen again, and I sure as hell sound it, too." This time, Curt did manage a chuckle that didn't seem to hurt so much. Maybe it was because Owen was almost done patching him up, and there was less cause for every alarm bell in his body to be blaring... "Yeah, that's pretty much spot on."

"Would it make you feel any better to know that I have exactly the same stress response?"

"I'm sorry, what now?"

Owen didn't elaborate. He worked on finishing up Curt's stitches, and then started cleaning the needle and packing up the kit. Completely baffled by not getting a response, Curt held up a hand to stop him before he could move away. "Woah, woah, hold on. You're tellin' me you don't sound like that either?"

"It seems we've both been lying about exactly the same thing." A soft smile crossed Owen's face, and he simply decided to discard the kit on the coffee table for the time being. He'd played right into Curt's curiosities there, he supposed, so he might as well play into them a little more...

"I wanna know now!" True to his person, Curt remained ever the curious one. He carefully replaced his shirt, and leaned forwards as much as the pain would allow. "What d'you sound like? Where are you from?"

Owen raised his hands. "Would you let me clean up before I told you that, please?"

Curt resigned with a nod, and followed Owen from the sofa with a glance as he wandered away to wash his hands of the blood that may have otherwise stained his fingertips. When he returned, he was waiting eagerly, intrigued to find out where Owen had come from and why it seemed both of them held sacred the exact same lie.

"I suppose I had the same problem as you," Owen started, as he took a seat next to Curt and shifted enough to look at him. "It was a matter of just... Wishing to be invisible among the men at the agency, and then it became something of a habit..."

"So, what about it, then? Where'd you grow up?"

"I grew up in Southwark. It's... Close enough to Peckham? You've been there."

He had. And he remembered how strong the accents were around there, too. To hear something like that coming from Owen would probably send him into shock, he supposed, especially since he was so used to what he was hearing now. He caught himself staring and shook his head. "No way..."

Owen took a breath. He had to think about dropping the accent he had now, it had become a subconscious effort to keep it up, and he hadn't actively heard his own, true voice in a long time.

"People don't— y'know— really ask for clarification when you tell 'em you're from London, so I tend not to bother givin' any better than that... Besides," he smiled, "I get foreigners thinkin' I'm right posh, and that's kinda fun, really."

Curt stared. He'd literally been gearing himself up for the sudden change, but hearing Owen sound so rough was not something he'd previously ever imagined. "Oh my god... You really never run outta ways to surprise me, huh?"

"Well, you asked..."

"Oh, and I'm not complainin'! 'S just unexpected when I've known you with that other voice for so long."

"I could say the same..."

"Why'd ya let people believe you're posh if you ain't?"

"... 'S easier. Most people just assume all of London is exactly the same, and who'm I to argue?" He leaned in a little, letting his gaze meet Curt's. "But, you wanna know the hardest part 'bout tryna keep that up?"

"Shoot."

"I used to swear like a sailor."

Curt laughed. When he realised Owen was being entirely serious, he laughed only harder. "Now that, I gotta hear!"

"Get me drunk enough, and you have yourself a deal."

#spies are forever #saf #curtwen #agent curt mega #owen carvour #void offering #star mail #tw blood #tw injury #nova's tags → #i've said it before and i'll say it again #working! class! owen! carvour!!!! #at this point i blatantly refuse to believe that hes actually posh #but again... thats the projection :) #let's get these idiots stressed and fuck around with their accents :) #btw southwark is 'suh-thuk' #don't ask... we have weird ways of pronouncing places that look like they should be pronounced completely differently

[flower-boi16]

Just rewatched Western Energy:

2 minutes and 30 seconds in and the episode already has a major fucking plot hole. If Striker could hear Stolas talking to Blitz on the phone WHY tf didn't he destroy it the second Stolas started to call? If he did that than I.M.P would have never been notified that Stolas was in danger in the first place

Small contradiction: the episode establishes that the nurse that Blitz talks to can't read...then 30 seconds later she is able to read a list of names when searching for Blitz's name. Funny how Viv forgets even the smallest of things here

Dear god the tonal issues this episode are at their worst. So many serious scenes are just interrupted by unfunny sex jokes, and the episode constantly switches between serious and comedic scenes out of fucking nowhere. The tonal whiplash here is insane.

The entire fucking scene where Striker tortures Stolas is the biggest example; Striker stabs Stolas a few times and its constantly interrupted by him making an unfunny sex joke. There's nothing wrong with inserting jokes into serious scenes but you need to do it in a way that doesn't come across as tonal whiplash. This episode is FILLED with SO much tonal whiplash it doesn't make me feel anything in any of the serious scenes

The pacing is also bad here as well. Everything feels like it goes by waaaaay too damn fast, and the tonal issues make this problem even worse

The final scene. Once again the show's pacing issues and tonal problems make this serious scene have no impact. I don't feel ANYTHING while watching it.

And then there's the reveal that Stolas and Blitz's feud in Ozzie's god was resolved with a fucking blink and you'll miss it text message. That's such a lazy and underwhelming way to resolve this conflict. Ya, this was the moment I officially lost my patience with season 2.

Well, this episode was just as bad as I remembered it being. This might actually be worse than Oops, but I'll wait until I rewatch that one.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critical #western energy

[vanzuris]

i don't know if this may be a kinda weird idea but i thought about it last night and it's been eating me alive, follow me on this one:

kyman as cats au. yes.

(sorry if it’s poorly written, english isn’t my first language)

so, kyle is a slim orange cat who's been living with the marshes since two weeks after he was born. they found him on the side of the road during a family trip, dirty and tiny and loud, and randy was outnumbered; he had zero chances of convincing stan, shelly and sharon to not keep the goddamn cat. and as time passed he successfully gained everyone's heart. they loved him. even sparky (rest in peace) and specially stan who considers him his super best friend because kyle is a very chill and nice cat.

and it has been just him in his territory for a while.

so it's just natural that he can't help but stare in confusion when shelly comes back home with a fluffy, fat brown cat with big brown eyes and a red collar, alleging that she saw him around all by his own for a few days now and decided to take the poor thing to their home. stan, who just loves animals in general, finds him adorable and reaches out to pet him. that motherfucker immediately starts to purr, just to bite stan’s hand seconds later and then act like it was all in good fun. and he doesn’t quite know what is it, but there's something about him that kyle just... doesn't like.

whatever, it doesn’t matter because then it happens. while eric (as printed on his collar) rubs on stan’s legs, he notices kyle for the first time. he immediately starts to approach him, ears and tail up communicating his curiosity. the family just stands there, wanting to see how this will turn out. first they smell each other, and then proceed to make a kind of staring contest before eric raises his paw and hits kyle on the face.

“oooh, i would fight back if i were you, buddy” says randy.

but they still let eric stay after posting pictures of him on social media in case there’s someone out there looking for him. the week goes by with loud meowing from both cats, and it’s a bit annoying but funny, because it’s like they’re arguing in their own little language all the time. kyle tries his best to avoid him: staying in stan’s room for more time than he’s used to, resting on the tallest step of the cat tower, going out of the house to hang out more often with the neighbor’s cat, but he still gets involved in these “arguments” that sometimes even become physical and end up with shelly and stan having to separate them.

and it certainly doesn’t help that eric spends 50% of his time sleeping in shelly’s bed (his favorite human of the four, because she’s always petting him, treating him like he deserves (yeah, like a king) and even bought a nice plate to feed him) and the other 50% trying to start fights with kyle. seriously, what’s wrong with him?

okay. they hate each other, right? kyle must be angry because this cat came out of nowhere and invaded his territory and even dared to try to start fights with him. that’s what it looks like to the whole family.

so it’s just natural that stan has to rub his eyes five times to confirm he’s not insane and seeing things when one night he goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water and catches both cats curled up together, incredibly close, on the couch.

“i think kyle is gay”, stan shares his thoughts with the rest of the family three days later during dinner, after constantly catching the two cats getting along and being… clingy? when apparently they thought no one else could see them.

“sparky was gay, what’s the possibility of our cat being gay too?”

stan doesn’t know, but he’s sure he’s right. of course he had to be a fucking orange cat. no one believes him, though, because the cats continue to be gay in secret.

and it’s all fine until one day a blond guy in an orange parka shows up to their house, claiming that eric is his cat that ran away two months ago.

shelly and stan look at each other, knowing damn well that they both started to love that rude cat and don’t want to give him back. but it doesn’t matter, they eventually would have to.

eric greets kenny with a loud purr and even louder meows, happy to see him again. shelly asks kenny to please take his plate and newly bought toys with him so eric can remember her, and then they leave.

the whole week after that is a torture between shelly talking about how much he misses eric and kyle meowing at the door, waiting for the brown cat to come back.

and on a tuesday, stan wakes up to find the two cats curled up on the couch again. oh my god.

he calls kenny, who comes to pick eric up and stan explains how their cats are… lovers? apparently. kenny laughs, but believes in his word and promises to take eric to visit his cat-boyfriend sometimes.

it’s not necessary, though, because eric keeps coming back on his own, but eventually learns the way back home with kenny so that’s not a problem anymore.

the only option the marshes have now is to accept their cat’s sexuality and eric’s presence too, whenever he shows up.

whether they like it or not, he’s part of the family now.

#can you tell that i’m going insane #kyman #eric cartman #kyle broflovski #south park kyman #shelly is on sabbatical in case you were wondering #aaahqjejidbwjenwkdnsn #i love them #i kinda wrote this on a rush #wouldn't it be funny if kenny and stan bonded over their gay cats

[veryblushyswitch]

Eddward “Double D” ~ (tickle headcanons) 🐜

*————————————————————————*

Lee

*Canonically ticklish and I’m so here for it ✨

*Eddy and Ed absolutely tickle this guy all the time. Whether that be because they need to convince him to go along with a scam, or just because the guy gets nervous and needs to chill out and laugh.

*Ed does a lot of the second one. He’ll notice Double D is rambling out of anxiety and drop everything he’s doing to pull Double D into a tickle hug till he’s nothing but giggles. 💖

*HAS THE CUTEST FUCKING GIGGLES GUYS 👏

*They’re so contagious that whoever’s tickling him can’t help but laugh along.

*Even Kevin has fallen victim to it.

*Kevin definitely sees Double D as a friend in my head. He doesn’t like Ed or Eddy, but genuinely enjoys Double D’s company.

*That being said, he still doesn’t shy away from calling him a dork or “beating him up.” Which just means Kevin will tickle him and make Double D say to Ed and Eddy he got beat up.

*I love to think Kevin and Double D hang out in secret and talk about motorcycles.

*Nazz will sometimes poke at the other guys not realizing she’s tickling them. She loves doing this to Double D.

*He always makes the most adorable funny noises and she adores them. Verbally mind you, and it makes Double D’s face go insanely red real fast.

*Eddy is such a teasey little shit to Double D.

*He loves to sneak in the word tickle into random sentences to watch Double D blush a little.

*He can say the word when doing the tickling, but hearing it in a lee mood makes him all flustered.

*When he’s in a ler mood though, it doesn’t phase him. Much to Eddy’s dismay.

*Is the type of lee to curl up in a little ball rather than try and fight off his ler. Most of time he wouldn’t be able to anyway so why put up a fight.

*He has been ganged up on by the other kids in the cul de sac. Everyone can’t help giggle along with him while he’s tickled.

*Kevin and Rolf are a terrifying ler duo to all the other kids. Especially to Double D.

*They’ll sneak up behind him then tease him till the sun goes down. Rolf is much more merciful than Kevin, but they balance each other out.

*Double D is definitely their favorite victim. They can tell he doesn’t totally hate it and find it enjoyable at how ticklish he is.

*Plus they can pretty much get him to do whatever they want if they tickle him long enough.

*Requires hugs or some sort of physical and/or emotional aftercare when he’s done being tickled.

~

Ler

*Uses a lot of strategy.

*As we’ve seen, he’s very scientific and is incredibly intelligent. So you better bet he’s memorized each little way to make his friends fall apart into giggles.

*Tickles Ed to make him happy. He knows that Ed enjoys it and loves the playfulness. Ed always tickles him back though so he’s gotta be careful.

*Tickles Eddy when he’s being annoying or to distract him while he’s trying to come up with another scam.

*He actually secretly loves being the ler, but he doesn’t get the opportunity to be the ler as much as he gets to be the lee.

*Uses lots of teases.

“Aww, Eddy! I’ve never heard you make that noise before!”

“Oh dear, Ed. It seems my hands are stuck under your arms. Looks like you’ve got lift them or they’ll be stuck there forever~”

“Always so gullible, Eddy. And always so ticklish.”

*Cue Double D’s cute little giggles 😭

*Can use the word tickle is he’s the one doing the tickling. But he can’t say it if he’s asked to out of nowhere.

*Has gotten Kevin back with Rolf’s help lots of times. He doesn’t dare ask Kevin to get back at Rolf because Rolf will go full on tickle monster on the both of them till they’re crying.

*Kevin finds it so flustering that he can be taken down by a dork like Double D, especially to something so childish like tickling.

*Double D always reassures him that it’s not childish and that everyone is a little ticklish somewhere. Cue Kevin’s revenge.

*Knows a lot of science behind tickling.

*All the technical terms and why certain areas are more ticklish than others, and he’ll talk about it while he’s tickling someone.

*Going on and on about why we have 24 ribs why counting them out loud, why our feet have so many nerve endings while scribbling them, as well as giving a personal demonstration of how different tools make the person emit different sounds of laughter.

*Eddy has been the test subject one too many times in his opinion.

*He can never really get away with tickling someone without that person getting their revenge. But all in all, he doesn’t really mind.

*He likes being able to be playful with his friends, and tickling is something he’ll always associate with special memories in the cul de sac.

#Ed Edd n Eddy tickle #Ed Edd n Eddy tickle hcs #Ed Edd n Eddy tickle headcanons #Eddward #double d #lee double d #ticklish double d #Eddy #ler Eddy #Ed #ler Ed #cartoon tickle #cartoon tickle hcs #cartoon tickle headcanons

[jellybeanium124]

ok hear me out I noticed something.

Izzy's opinion on Stede changes quite drastically between episode 2 and 3. When he first meets Stede and Stede's like "I believe we have dibs on those men!" Izzy is smiling slightly.

He's got a little upward quirk breaking through his expressions. He's enjoying himself! Stede is weird and new and entertaining, and as of this moment he has no reason not to go theater kid v. theater kid and just have fun with Stede about it. Stede is also definitely having fun too!

Things change slightly when Stede gets his knife to Izzy's face.

Izzy goes into Serious Mode here, not knowing yet that this isn't a situation where Stede would go into Serious Mode. I don't think Izzy thinks Stede'll kill him, probably, but everyone is saying he's insane.

But then, at the end, after Stede's knife is away from his face and nobody dies, his smug little smile returns.

At the very end of the episode he is staring so blankly at the Revenge for a long time. I just think that's funny.

Literally 0 thoughts running around his skull rn lmao

Anyways, in episode 3, Izzy goes from finding Stede mildly entertaining, to disliking him.

Their interaction starts off with Izzy being a dramatic theater kid again, but he's a bit more riled up because he hates Spanish Jackie's (and for another reason I explain later). Stede goes: "ugh, you again!" because he's busy being onto the next thing. Stede generally is super mad at Izzy and frankly it's kind of out of nowhere. Guess he's pissed off about the nose juice or his second white outfit being destroyed? There's still an element of playfulness there around Stede mentioning the hostage and a little bit of that two-theater-kids-playing energy. But, in the end, they hate each other more after this second interaction. Izzy doesn't like being called names (compared to the ~relative~ respect he got in their first encounter) and Stede refusing to see Ed is disrespectful in his eyes.

Now for the million dollar question: why? What made Stede go from entertaining to obnoxious in Izzy's mind?

I'm not 100% sure, but I'd wager a guess that it's Ed. Izzy finds Stede entertaining and reports back his encounter (probably definitely edited a bit to put him in a better light) and now Ed finds Stede interesting. And Izzy knows that's a battle he can't win. I don't think Izzy is interested in the same way that Ed is (Ed has a crush), I think Izzy wants a homoerotic rivalry he doesn't realize is homoerotic.

And he does get it to some degree. The "Muse Why Have You Forsaken Me" scene is some of the gayest theater kid shit I've ever seen. But in the end Stede doesn't care about Izzy, doesn't see him as a nemesis. Izzy is very personally invested in hating Stede, and he's pissed off that Stede doesn't have the same level of investment in being enemies. Because of Ed. Because Stede is way more interested in Ed. Izzy and Stede can't have their own thing without him. Once again, Izzy's angry that Stede isn't conforming to the way he thinks they should be. Nemeses are deeply personal, and Stede doesn't care.

So, in the end, It's ✨jealously✨ babey

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #stede bonnet #ofmd meta

[blackstarchanx3new]

FSR Rambles 12 times Vaati got his ass kicked

Insanity, Vaati being pathetic.

What's new?

Ooop. Zelda showing off how she'll kill you within 2 seconds of being in HER castle.

Link's letter was smth addressed earlier: He warned her with a letter he was going to pull the sword.

Which implies a certain amount of impersonal-ness to the action. He didn't want her talking him out of it lmfao. He was already struggling with defying Vio's persistence so it makes sense he didn't want Zelda to try and logic his ass either.

Her outfit being the sneaky armor in botw, presumably so she could sneak attack, whoever ended up attacking her.

I thought it'd also be a fun throwback to Sheik and spoiler:

Zelda's gender identity is pretty open. Link referred to her with "They" pronouns earlier in the comic but I didn't feel it was very relevant to bring up at the time lmfao. Zelda's all sorts of gender in this comic to say the least.

The reason why Vaati knows she's around is smth I'll get into later when it's more relevant.

"Damn would you have preferred Gannon???" - Vaati probably.

Zelda isn't playing around she wants to know where her blonde twink is at.

Vaati is a bitch about it of course.

Oh she mad.

She real mad.

"PATRICK THATS NOT A HOOKER!!!"

"It's not?"

"ITS A BOMB 💣!!!!"

Vaatis stupid as hell expression before she goes boom is hilarious to me.

Smth people seem to be CONFUSED about fsr is Vaati's not so subtle Zelda simping.

Vaati is a Zelda simp, that's really all there is too it. The extent of that simping is smth I've joked about a lot.

So he got his ass handed to him.

Shadow himself noted vaati must be weak as hell earlier so. Guess he was right.

Smth of note: vaati is struggling to keep his form in the "wind mage" form. As his body keeps trying to revert to the "wind demon" design

Those titles are used interchangeably in the manga but I call his Hylian disguise his "wind mage" form and the demon form his "wind demon" form personally.

Zelda casually drops the fact she was trying to murder Vaati with that blast. She isn't playing around. Makes sense this asshole held her prisoner for who knows how long before and did something to her best friend.

Haha vaatis pathetic and also in pain.

Good.

His suffering is all the direct cause of his own actions so...hard to feel TOO bad for him rn.

Zelda certainly doesn't.

Link’s shitty state outright made her a more cold hearted person it seems.

Not that'd I'd blame her for that lmfao.

Vaati struggling to get back to being handsome lmfao.

Vaati, my bro, when are you going to do a single thing for yourself????

Okay but the implication Dark Link let Vaati get his ass kicked and only jumped in to help when Vaati called for help is very funny.

Dark links comedically large sword is just interesting. It's not a four sword replica like Shadow’s.

Zelda is in shock at the weird Link coming out of nowhere.

Darks immediate reaction of being flustered at seeing Zelda is so funny to me.

"HYLIA'S MASSIVE TITS, IT'S A WOMAN!!!"

And fun note: This is the first time Dark's actually for reals appeared in the physical world and not just in the "Headspace".

Subtly creepy he isn't just a mental problem but a physical danger as well.

His attack was very calculated, as he didn't hurt Zelda and just slammed his sword in front of her...

...Haven't we seen smth...SIMILAR TO THIS?

Huh well, look at that...

Sweaty weirdo Dark Link enters the chat.

No it was not just for the memes he's actually just like that lmfao.

So from what we know about Dark so far there's some things to note:

Our buddy boy can see the memories of others and "live" through their experiences.

Yall see what it is getting at right?

Shadow link, Vio, and Vaati's emotions and memories are influencing Darks inability to harm Zelda here.

And perhaps he formed feeling a certain kind of way about her.

He associates her with positive feelings lmfao.

Their influence aside, he still chooses not to hurt her on his own.

Vaati’s reaction is priceless.

Zelda seems to grant Dark some mercy, assumably because he outright denied Vaati here lol.

For his sparing of Zelda he gets squished like a dog toy. Poor Dark Link.

Vaati leaves with his dumbass lackey.

When you casualy blow a hole in your castle lmfao.

She's overwhelmed.

She need break.

She need hug.

She need...Link.

Pff.

Guys, he has self-awareness...fuck.

Vaati, that was just unnecessarily mean to your lackey.

Also Dark Link appearance wise:

His hair color has changed. It's purple toned now when it was grey blue toned earlier....

Okay I'll stop being coy it's because he's mimicking Vio's appearance.

Oh. Well, that's a face, alright...

Is he ANGRY? Is he HAPPY?

Did he make that face because he knows it'd freak Vaati out?

Vaati’s abusive bullshit doesn't seem to damper his mood at least as he's smiling in the 3rd panel.

Dark link and Shadow link are very different people, ESPECIALY when it comes to how they cope with Vaati's abuse.

It left a mark on Shadow where as as of right now at least, Dark acts MOSTLY unbothered by it.

Let's face it rn his idea of normal relationships are Shadow and vio lmfaoooooooo-

The dudes who both almost murdered each other.

Pff

His "I want kisses too" line will never not get a laugh out of me.

It's so indicative of how he actually feels.

He wants kisses.

He drops that Shadow is the demon king and for a second you gotta wonder if Vaati was like

"...Why is Gannon smooching Vio?????"

Dark Link also wants to dance. Both are things he saw Vio and Shadow do, mind you...

Vaati has no idea wtf is going on lmfao.

Dark has eclipsed him as the true villain of this comic-

I say in jest.

Dark casually recaps stuff we already kinda know.

While trying to dance with Vaati pff.

Funny enough, taking the lead in said dance, which reflects how he's the one doing all the work rn.

So, Dark link is interpreting peoples feelings, not 100% understanding them. 🤔

He has to actually think about Blue's emotional state hah and even seems surprised.

It's funny to think that even Green picked up on blue being jealous, and basically everyone did, but Dark had to think about it...

Kinda shows he doesn't really understand people much. Like TRUELY.

Or he's just not as interested in blue vs Vio and Shadow.

Dark stutters again like he did when he was face to face with Zelda.

Vaatis so mean mocking his stutter and continues to berate him.

Well that was an outburst.

And I finally get to talk in detail about Dark Link’s "mechanics" for a lack of a better term will expand on the next page.

Design/art wise:

Dark's teeth are all sharp here when normally, despite being a demon his teeth are flat/human looking teeth.

The background is a more red version of the head-space Vio and Green have been dragged to when Dark talks to them/at them.

Immediately he's back to being himself.

Weirdly happy, which settles in the true horror of the previous outbirst:

He didn't mean, a single word of what he just said.

He said that, PURELY to hurt Vaati because it's something that Vaati already feels about himself. He wasn't actually MAD at Vaati and snapping in response to Vaati's abuse. He was just reflecting Vaati's anger right back at him.

So smth about Dark:

He often reflects DIRECTLY how others behave.

Instances of such:

The madder Vaati got in this talk, the "angrier" Dark Link got right back at him.

He shouted at Dark to "Do something" and he responded angrily back that he didn't want to hurt Zelda.

He shouted and berated Dark Link causing Dark to shout that nobody loves Vaati.

Dark Link's nature is to be calm, quiet, pretty "Happy" and kinda hopelessly romantic lmao. He wants to have his idea of "Fun" with people.

He MIMICS people.

Dark has no identity of his own (At least he doesn't seem to realize he does) so often he just bounces off people. He only takes joy in hurting others atm.

Not even in an outright malicious way. At least not the kind of malicious that's "haha I broke the hero because I hate him". This is just what his idea of "Fun" is. What his idea of normal interactions are. This is just what he's suposed to be doing rn.

He isn't acting much outside of his direct reason for creation. What he even deems as fun is indicative of his creation as well.

Engaging with their range of emotions and characters and memories he deems interesting is FUN to him.

If his dialogue from page 121 is anything to go off of, bro really doesn't give a shit about his job. He just wants to have fun:

He finds it amusing Shadow can ALSO manipulate people's feelings, outright kind of complimenting him for it.

And then gets hopelessly distracted and starts talking about what he'd "Rather do" right now.

Which involves hugging Vio and reading oop.

He didn't get SUPER involved/invested in Shadow's memories until Vio and Shadow were doing more "interesting" things, at least in Dark's opinion of what is "interesting."

Dark wants to engage in relationships lmfao. But he's stuck engaging with memories living though them vicariously and hurting people he supposedly "Likes".

He wants to dance with someone and kiss them and in general have "happy" moments with someone. But is stuck being a curse that's only purpose is to break the hero apart and reflect negativity.

It's kinda sad.

But he clearly hasn't reflected on his own life/situation outside of Vaati's feelings towards him.

Also: Dark has no desire to kill any of the Link or Link himself...keep this in mind.

Again: He reflects Vaati's mood of annoyance with that face in the second panel. Which kills me. You just know Vaati's making the same face off screen lmfao.

Symbolism symbolism

Dark plucks the violet but leaves the silent princess alone outside of petting it. Call back to how he left Zelda alone.

He says more stuff we kinda already know, but recapping is good. Actually, we spent like 100 pages in flashbacks, hah.

It also shows what Dark learned/his takeaway from watching their interactions.

Haha oh Dark why are you ripping petals out?

There's smth to be said about him ripping the petals out as the game "She loves me, she loves me not" is a vibe that's being invoked here.

With the odd amount of petals (Being 5) it'd land on "She loves me" by the way.

A relatively innocent game turned into something sinister as he rips petals out in accordance with how many heroes there are.

Dark's behavior continues to be ODD, as he claims Shadow's predicament is "Sad". Which is true.

But...does his expression REALLY scream that he's ACTUALLY sad about it to you?

His chest eyeball just stares blankly forward, his body language implies he's just kinda pretending or acting sad.

Which makes sense, Dark hasn't been shown to clearly understand sorrow properly as even when he cried he was still smiling.

He compares Vio and Shadow's struggles with their identities directly as they're both struggling with who they're SUPOSED to be compared to who they are.

Again: he's ripping a petal out as he talks about each member of the Link squad.

Notes notes notes my favorite:

For whatever reason Vio is not in his present day look here. He's how he looked 7 years ago.

You could make a lot of different assumptions as to why:

Is this how Dark sees Vio? Vio visually represented to be stuck in the past. Vio just feeling more childishly scared in the face of what's happening.

Dark's comforting Vio here in a similar manor to how Shadow did though.

Also super weird: Dark actually in a round about way compliments Vio here.

"He's so blinded by his self hatred he can't see just how much everyone adores him because of his calm cool nature..."

Dark can feel how others feel about Vio and repeated those opinions.

This is smth to note because so far the only things he's really repeated out loud have been negative things people feel about THEMSELVES.

Outside of when he complimented Shadow.

But this shows he can actually recognize positive feelings people have towards others and repeat those too...

And outright stating: He "likes" Vio.

Because of his strong reaction to Zelda, we can assume that he likes people depending on how others feel about them. Because the team likes Vio: So does Dark Link.

Another petal falls while he dips into Green's problems. Who's the only other one we've seen him play around with so far outside of Vio and Shadow And not even really with Shadow...

Weirdly enough Green feels empty inside because he's diet link lmfao.

I told yall I'd give him a personality.

Harbors guilt for lazing around when everyone else was doing stuff. Ouch.

He felt the need to promise Link he'd keep shit okay but he doesn't even know if he CAN.

Blue and his ptsd.

Dark continues to hug people while utterly obliterating them as people lmao.

Blue can't express his emotions arounv Vio which is a theme we'll see as we go into the comic more.

Vio looking back at Blue tho is, a thing.

To be fair to Dark's assesment of Red: red hasn't done anything in the comic yet.

Him chucking the flower the second it's not pretty anymore and, eating the petal is just funny in a morbid way.

Creepy thing: He ate the petal that "Symbolized" Red. The sweet optimistic character. Kinda just shows Dark consumes everything around him in a pit of despair lmfao. Also it's hilarious that he ate smth that he shouldn't have.

Vaati's disgusted reaction to said petal eating is very funny and Dark's monologue about HIMSELF is very telling I feel.

He thinks he's a hero, because he's saving someone. Removed from context that Vaati is a villain and the fac to "Save" Vaati he needed to hurt the REAL hero of Hyrule...

His actions are preventative at the moment: he's making so Link can't reform and the pieces can't seal Vaati back into the sword.

Dark's actions all make sense to Dark Link. XD

Nobody is cheering him, so he just blatantly says "YAY DARK LINK!!!" Which is honestly the funniest lines Dark has said purely because it shows his childish outlook on this entire situation.

He's just the hero saving Vaati.

Dark's clearly annoyed to some degree nothing he does is bringing Vaati any amount of satisfaction.

He did what he was supposed to do. The sword is drawn. Vaati is free.

Dark even mocks Vaati's impatience and his need to control someone else to do his work for him. Hitting Vaati right where it hurts with Vaati's insecurity about being a pawn.

Instantly also going for the throat with "Master Elzo and Link would be disgusted with you"

Obviously: He's talking about Minish Cap Link NOT "our" Link.

This use of their names offends Vaati to no end.

The fight scene is fun, enough said. XD

Okay fine: Ramble thoughts.

Dark manages to mauver his way into not getting properly hit.

Dark's fascination with strangling people is not missed as he does it to Vaati here.

As he repeats things he knows will hurt Vaati's feelings.

Vaati is being unreasonable and stupid in Dark's eyes so him bringing up Vaati's insecurities to make a point is just his attempt to get Vaati to listen to him.

Despite his actions seeming to go against it: He IS on Vaati's side and IS trying to "save" Vaati.

He isn't even saying/acting out of spite, he's just kinda lowkey annoyed and exasperated at Vaati at best. XD

We hit the image count so I'll pick up later.

#fsr rambles #fsr au #loz au #four swords returns au #four swords returns #loz fsr au