Tumgik
#like i really miss writing
forabeatofadrum · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Happy Sunday and thanks @artsyunderstudy , @nightimedreamersworld and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for the tag.
As the banner suggests, I have no writing done myself but I have read other people's writing. Not a lot though. God, I have so much fic to catch up on. But I have read 2 fics this month.
(I originally planned to do a Fic Rec Friday, but my Friday got super busy and hey, I didn't have anything to show and I also had this banner from last year so it all works out.)
People who follow @klainepolls might've followed along to @kurtsascot's unexpected, a Choose Your Own Adventure-esque kind of fic. Every day, Genevieve would look at the result of the poll to see where the story would go and I voted in almost every one of them and it was honestly a lot of fun, and I applaud Genevieve for coming up with a chapter on such a short notice without being able to plan ahead.
I also read One December Night by @artsyunderstudy and my initial reaction (and AO3 comment) is "Ashton holy fuck" cause Ashton, holy fuck, you've done it again. I am a sucker for reunion/second chances fics, although Simon and Baz never got together beforehand. They meet again, ten years after Simon took down the Mage. I always love how emotional Ashton's fics are.
So yeah, fics!
And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @that-disabled-princess @1908jmd @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @cutestkilla ​ @wellbelesbian ​​ @martsonmars ​ @facewithoutheart ​ @shrekgogurt @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @blackberrysummer @whatevertheweather @theotherhufflepuff @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion @kurtsascot @esilher
20 notes · View notes
cuubism · 2 months
Text
i went to physical therapy for my stupid broken arm so as is my legal obligation i HAD to make ship content about it. everything is ship content that's how it is
cw injury, referenced abusive relationships
--
Hob's had plenty of clients come to physical therapy who clearly don't want to be there. Plenty of others who are reasonably frustrated by the work and time involved in regaining functioning after an injury. But this is the first time he's just had someone be... quiet. Resigned.
Dream sits with his hand cradled to his chest, barely speaking, only answering when Hob asks a direct question. He's reluctant to give Hob his hand when Hob asks if he can look at it, like he thinks Hob's grip is a bear trap that will snap down and crush the bones like whatever had done so the first time. Hob still doesn't know what that was. All he knows is the bones have been realigned and healed over but the dexterity in his hand still isn't right. That was what Dream had said, in the first spark of passion Hob had heard from him. It's not right.
But he does eventually give his hand over. His bones are so fine and delicate, and each movement hesitant. Cautious. Hob tests the flexibility. The strength. Dream is right, it's not where it should be. He still doesn't know what happened.
"I won't make you tell me if you really don't want to," Hob says gently. "But it is important to know how it happened to make sure we rehab it the right way. Did you get it caught in something? I've seen guys come in with machine injuries like that."
Nothing about Dream suggests "person who works with heavy machinery." But who knows. Hob will try not to stereotype.
"No," Dream says quietly, looking down and away from his hand like he can't bear to see it. "I. I am an artist. My ex... he felt that I cared more about my art than about him. Perhaps I did. And he was... frustrated. I suppose."
Hob can put the rest of the pieces together in his mind. "Jesus," he breathes, and Dream flinches.
"I have an unfortunate ability to involve myself with such people," he says.
"No, it's not your fault," Hob says automatically.
Dream narrows his eyes. "You presume to know that?"
Hob raises his hands in surrender. "Never mind. I won't pry." He's not Dream's therapist. His job is to help him with his hand, not... whatever else is going on in his life.
He takes Dream's hand carefully between both of his own again. Presses down lightly on his knuckles. "So. Crushed. Like that?"
Dream nods. Hob still doesn't know all the details, but he's imagining a boot going down hard on the top of Dream's hand. The thought is sickening.
"Can you fix it?" Dream asks, like he doesn't dare to hope.
"Well, you already had it repaired surgically, yeah?" Hob says. This strikes him as a bit of good luck--hand fractures are not simple--but he doesn't want to undercut Dream's confidence even further by saying so. He's usually pretty good at reading his clients, and he's already sensing that Dream is holding onto his determination to be here at all by the barest thread. Best to build him up as much as possible. "So it's just a matter of strengthening the muscles again."
He's fairly confident he can get him back to a usual level of functioning with it. The question is whether he can return him to the specific level of dexterity he needs for his art. He doesn't say that. Not yet.
Finally, he gets the tiniest of smiles out of Dream. He's really lovely when he smiles.
(He's pretty when he doesn't smile, too. Hob would have to be blind not to notice it.)
"So," Hob says. "Let's look at the current range of motion, yeah?"
Dream tilts his head. "Did you not already do so?"
"For regular motion, yeah. But I want to see where it's impacting your drawing."
Dream draws his hand back, looking uncertain.
"Come on." Hob hands him a pen and paper. "Show me. I promise I know nothing about art. If it's not up to your usual standards, I'm not going to be able to tell."
Finally, Dream takes the pen, and starts sketching.
Hob watches, noting the way his hand trembles, his uneven grip on the pen. Notes how quickly he gets demoralized when it doesn't turn out the way he wants. Hob can make out what he's written and drawn, but it's clear from Dream's expression that it's far from how it's supposed to be.
"This is just a starting point," Hob reminds him. He has a feeling he's going to be doing a lot of those sorts of reminders with Dream; he does not seem to find optimism easy.
Then again, if someone who supposedly loved him had hurt him like that, Hob would probably find optimism a bit difficult, too.
Finally, Dream drops the pen, clearly frustrated. "I have tried to paint at home, too. It has not turned out any better. You should throw those away." He gestures to the sketches. "They are terrible."
"Nah, I'm gonna keep them," Hob says, and puts them in his folder. "For comparison later." It could also partially be because he finds Dream's drawings of cats, imperfect as they are, charming. Sue him.
"As you insist," Dream says.
Hob gives him documentation on some other exercises he can do at home. Tries to think through what might make him feel better with his art. It feels, somehow, so important to make him feel better.
"At home, go easy on trying to use a pen, or paintbrush or whatever, it's hard on your hand," he finally says. "But you probably want to get back to your art, so-- okay, don't make fun of me if this is stupid."
Dream just raises an eyebrow, waiting.
Maybe Hob should try to learn more about art before he gives advice. Nevertheless, he forges on. "Holding a pen is tough, but if you wanted to like, finger paint or something? That would probably be fine. Might be good for flexibility, even."
"Finger paint," Dream repeats, enunciating each word.
"I told you not to make fun of me if it was stupid."
Dream smiles, just a small thing, like he finds Hob ridiculous but in a charming way. Good enough, Hob figures.
"Very well," Dream says at last. "I will take your advice."
Dream simply walking out had felt like a distinct possibility, so Hob will take this as a win.
"Hey," he says later, catching Dream for a moment as he's checking him out. "It's going to get better, yeah? Trust me. Don't worry too hard, just give it time."
He really shouldn't make promises like that. But he can't seem to help it, with Dream.
Dream considers, then says. "I do trust you."
Hob finds that it means a lot. Now he's just going to have to earn it.
606 notes · View notes
listles-s · 5 days
Text
man laios and toshiro's/shuro's dynamic is incredibly compelling to me on multiple levels
when you look at them, you can see the cultural and personal barriers that drive almost every single aspect of their relationship, both positively and negatively. laios is incredibly outspoken and driven by his passions, which he expresses freely even in the face of annoyance and/or criticism- he's allowed to be as authentically himself as he pleases, and it's this drive that allows him and the others to survive as long as they have, especially due to the fact that these passions and interests are intertwined with his skills as a dungeon diver. toshiro, in contrast, is incredibly reserved, not only due to his eastern upbringing but also his status as nobility- a combo of cultures that both demand that one save face, to avoid conflict at any cost, even at the expense of one's own feelings and individuality. this, in turn, has made toshiro the perfect samurai, as he's politely-spoken, agreeable, and an honorable, skilled man. both are also incredibly devoted to falin on different levels, having come to accomplish the same mission of her rescue despite drifting apart from the party.
on the flipside, it's these same strengths that cause them to clash- laios is outspoken but unable to truly decipher the emotions of others, leading to a lot of false assumptions and frustration from those who interact with him. toshiro is stoic but to the point of complacency, leading to a aggressively neutral disposition that's ushered by the needs and wants of others, rather than himself. neither man truly knows where they stand with the people important to them in their lives, and hold the ones that they do know how they feel with a fierce admiration expressed in ways that aren't always traditional.
in the end, they both share a growing feeling of isolation from other people that comes to a head when they meet again in the depths of the dungeon, and they both have different ways of coping with the frustrations that arise, seeing the other as only the things they have seen face to face.
it's laios' ability to express himself emotionally without consequence that sparks jealousy in toshiro, leading to a physical fight born out of miscommunication and envy. while toshiro is a driving force in the conflict, it should be noted that the actual fight is started by laios, breaking the dam of indirect communication through force. nothing is more direct than a slap to the face, and it's only after they start hitting each other that toshiro's true feelings come to light.
however, at the end of it all, toshiro is the one who stops torturing himself, listening to laios and giving him the bell, allowing laios and his party entrance into his homeland should they need it, and ultimately giving him support in his mission to defeat the dungeon mage, albeit in his own way. despite it all, they're still good friends with a conflict that boiled over, but came out the other end with a slightly better understanding of each other. the fight was painful for both of them, but it was a necessity for their dynamic to improve, and for them to be made aware of their faults and improve as individuals as well.
but also, if you think about it, their dynamic is literally just this
Tumblr media
291 notes · View notes
peridots-pixiwolf · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[Start ID. A redraw of the official icons of the ten named slugcats from Rain World, arranged in two rows: Survivor, Monk, Hunter, Nightcat, and Gourmand in the first, Artificer, Rivulet, Spearmaster, Saint and Enot/Inv in the second. Each is drawn in roughly the same pose as in the original art and fitted with speculative interpretations of their biology, and the second image is a “dead” version of this. For example, all ten have slug-like rhinophores in place of ears, cuttlefish-like colorful eyes with strangely-shaped pupils, cephalopod-like beak "teeth", expressive barbels or oral tentacles at the corners of mouths, spiny radulas, and the frilly mantle fringes of sea slugs, though otherwise their faces are squishy, simple and mammalian-shaped.
Cream-colored Survivor and yellow Monk both share triangular, bicolored spots matching their eyes (which are tan and brown, and two shades of blue, respectively), small, bumpy fringes, and relatively neutral looks on their faces. Defensive-looking Hunter is mostly a dull orange-pink, though their blobby fringe is a more violent red and their back is purple and marred with lumps. Nightcat is navy blue and flecked with dots of yellow and teal, their rolled rhinophores are a lighter blue, and their shading fractures into stars in some places. Gourmand is almost uniformly tan, their wide, very ruffly white mantle fringe bordered by a spray of white spots, and their beak sticks out from either corner of their smile. Primarily red Artificer, snarling, has yellow markings of multiple sorts, a prominent yellow dewlap and their characteristic dark scar taking out a chunk of its face. Rivulet is a darker blue than usual, with long barbels, red gills and rings, countershading, and a cheerful expression, sticking out their radula. Spearmaster is purple with orange accents, eyes and spots, a large fringe and spines down their back. Saint’s green caryophyllidia are marked by small, yellow diamonds, and their long, thin radula extends far below them. Enot is decorated with mottled red stripes, blue patches, yellow stars, and an uneven and almost cartoonish imitation of blush, though generally the same deep blue as Nightcat, a passive or almost slightly smug look on their face and their rolled rhinophores out to either side.
In the second image, nine of the slugcats’ eyes are crossed out, indicating that these are death icons. They look fairly the same, with mostly expression differences. Survivor is caught in the beginning of a threat display, a karma flower sprouts from Monk’s side, Hunter is burdened with overgrowing, purple and blue rot, Nightcat’s rhinophores are pinned back, and Gourmand looks mildly disheartened. For the final row, Artificer bites its radula between small plumes of smoke, Rivulet drops their expression, Spearmaster looks very startled, Saint looks almost entirely the same besides half-open eyes and their markings greater in number, and Enot grins confusedly. End ID]
If you'll excuse the unusually lengthy ID: the arena meme introduced by @pansear-doodles at long last after a nearly year-long wip status (or, rather, finished a month ago today to honor my own first time playing it!)
Design notes and shout-outs under cut! :]
The following people are some of those who’ve inspired my designs most since I started this eight months ago (or just inspired me to get a little weirder with slugcat biology), among many others for sure, and I thank them for it–but this is simply to bring attention to artists I find cool, and in no way an obligation to interact or anything :]
> @saturncoyote , @carpsoup , @charseraph , @gallusgalluss , @bitsbug , @dopscratch , and @0hmanit (and a special mention to dddeerbo and hunterlonglegs, who’ve since deactivated)!
Survivor: Surprisingly the hardest to pin down the colors for, since nothing with its sibling's palette seemed to match up right (I did have to add in a little blue somewhere for Monk, the beginning of making it clear how much I’m simply going based off of vibes for the colors of scug innards). I consider them, Monk and Gourmand to be part of the same gene pool of slugcats, and even possibly the same colony even if the latter isn't really related, so took a bit of Gourmand's coloring and fit them in with their inspiration: Goniobranchus verrieri. They serve as a bit of an introduction to my ideas of scug traits (i find it really fun how many people have thought to add so many silly sluglike fixtures of biology completely independent of me, buuut here I’m mostly talking about species variation), and like in-game they’re pretty average! They, Monk and Hunter have a couple scars sourced from a piece of Joar's concept art that I'm failing to find, those across the bridge of the nose, under the eyes, and across the rhinophores, respectively, and my Survivor interpretation features many on the back of the neck, as a result of survived lizard bites.
Monk: Their coloring is primarily based off the fact that I associate them with blue fruits, honestly, a bit because I was compelled to establish a familiarity with Rivulet, and lastly inspired by the spots of Goniobranchus kuniei (and geminus, less important to me as one of my characters is a kuniei instead, but more fitting). Between the yellow + blue and the circular marking in the center of their face, they’re meant to bear a little resemblance to an iterator that shares similarities with the characterization I’ve given them, and similar coding of her sibling can be seen on Survivor’s markings around the eyes. As both a “default” slugcat and one whose campaign I haven’t played, though, I can’t say I have much more to point out about em.
Hunter: The whole rot thing made for a really fun time drawing them, and while the color change on their back is a result of this, it’s also an excuse to relate them to Babakina festiva, arguably my favorite sea slug (mostly for sentimental purposes). And to Spearmaster, a fellow messenger slugcat, and it serves as a gradient between Hunter’s pink and the “traditional” color of Rot seen in the DLLs. Aside from their affliction, they’d actually be the plainest in terms of design, as they don’t have any patterns or quirks of body type, just the red + purple and strange lumps + possible malnutrition. I can’t remember if NSH had created them in particular or just...caught + released or something, but it probably wouldn’t be strange for a lab-grown slugcat to be simple like that.
Gourmand: Like the two above, they’re rather plain in terms of coloring and adaptation, and like the two above, I find that fun. I decided it would be nice to avert the “all slugcats being of the same body type, and Gourmand’s out of place as the exception” thing by just...adding more fat to all of them, really. I did want to emphasize their sheer bulk even so, both fat and muscular (not like I couldn’t have still gone further with it, of course, but slugcat anatomy can be a little obfuscating sometimes, and they were intended to look rather plush considering personal size headcanons and therefore the lack of proper gravity), and the thick and flounced mantle looked like a good addition, as per their sea slug Glossodoris hikuerensis. Unlike Survivor and Monk, I didn’t attempt to hold their resemblance to any particular other character (which means a little less to balance out the “default gene pool” thing), so those are all the design notes I have for em.
Artificer: The second slugcat I’ve ever played, or finished the campaign of, my favorite for at least a long time, and the first thing I did was give them yellow accents, the shape of which have troubled me slightly (not quite like the spots or stripes of the others). They’re both a little more appealing and more explosive-looking to me, and considering how early on I played Arti, actually present in some of my older art. It does give them a little resemblance to Saint (completely intentional, two slugcats with strange relations to karma), as well as the fact that its radula is green for familiarity with one of its children (at some point it was going to have all-green markings, even!). I’m generous with their scars, partly because it was fun to overemphasize the one on their face and partly because it does seem like a reckless slugcat, on top of the dangers of its explosive abilities–I’ll probably just keep adding more forever. Mostly-red sea slugs aren’t too common, but Hexabranchus sanguineus works for sure. The ridged, yellow dewlap can expand for combustion purposes, or something along those lines. Arti’s where I began experimenting with a lot of the mildly-offkilter features seen in my interpretation of slugcats, as they’ve once again been a favorite from the start.
Rivulet: I've obviously given other slugcats spots, deeply enjoy the bubbly-soda markings of other peoples' slugcats, and thought seal riv would be cute. Despite not too closely resembling it, they've been government-assigned Hypselodoris bennetti, for color reasons and for a couple sentimental ones. Originally, the colors of every scug were meant to match up with the custom colors I gave them at the beginning of their campaigns, (though Arti, Gourm and Spearmy are the only three who actually apply here, since I've only played through half the slugcats: I gave arti the yellow as mentioned above, gourm brown eyes and spearmy light pink spears, furthered by the outskirts pearl accompanying me and that palette all the way to moon. Tolerance training for eternity in hell cause I already knew about the maroon pearl quest). I initially gave them the colors of the bi flag for fun... but with the limited palette of this image, I was left without pink for a while and decided to see how they'd look in red. I then realized how they now wonderfully matched Moon, and besides, red's a sort of camouflage in deep water! As a side-note, the difference between their eyes and those of others always bothered me a little for anatomical purposes, and the cephalopod eyes were probably influenced by this!
Spearmaster: Inspired as much as possible by @notyourfunnyman ’s wonderful spearmy: designed in a way that helps it fit in with scavengers, at least between the long sensory tentacles, big ruff, back spines and slightly thin/distended anatomy, a form of defensive mimicry. I always had annulate rhinophores in mind, for a little diversity sure, but mostly because the shape reminds me of radio antennae and communication towers (seems fitting for the comms array and being a messenger slugcat)! I started searching for a real-life slug to give them just by looking up their rhinophore shape...and was met immediately and coincidentally with annulate-topped nudibranchs that fit them more perfectly than I could've imagined: Flabellina and surrounding clades, I think Paraflabellina ischitana works very nicely. The orange was completely unplanned, but there wasn’t a place for light pink among the other slugcats’ palettes, and importantly it likens them to both Hunter and Seven Red Suns a little more.
Saint: I am very much a non-furred slugcat enjoyer, with respect to those who aren’t, so figuring out the only visibly furred slugcat was an interesting challenge. I’ve decided that they likely have other, milder adaptations for help in the cold, mainly just more efficient fat storage, and what looks vaguely like fur is instead a bunch of tubercles (called caryophillia, for the second reminder out of three). Their inspiration doesn’t have these, however, Miamira sinuata’s numerous yellow and blue spots (not to mention...whatever’s going on with that shape) and general effect of being the only really green nudibranch I could find were probably perfect for a strange green echo. Not pictured, but their beak-teeth are tiny and flat to make a surface for grinding soft food against with the lack of a functioning radula, which is tipped with a specialized spiny “grapple-hook” for better traction/grip (not to mention the numerous little teeth running down the whole thing).
(Best part of hiding this under a readmore means edits will be seen by all reblogs, I'm mostly sure, because I completely forgot to mention! The spots on their forehead are simple eyes. Their camera eyes appear closed in-game, I like to believe their complex eyesight is rather poor anyways or otherwise reason that they aren't seeing out of those, and while this was far from her REASON for attunement with the world, it does help compensate for mainly viewing it through a canvas of simple light and dark. This, and the fact that their swapped-out "fur" is not only to commit to a lack of hairs but contributes to sensory input!)
Nightcat/Enot: I guess you could say I found the “these two are technically the same person” compelling. (E.g. similar colors, both very strange and enigmatic, and Enot/Inv/Sofanthiel’s remark during the dating sim about getting removed from Arena Mode.) I doubt they’re the only two slugcats in their body, considering humans with DID tend to have more than a few (and I find it very funny that a slugcat bearing resemblance to Nightcat appears in Gourmand’s ending. They’re allowed in the colony and Enot isn’t </3), and I have to credit @faelingdraws ’s art for being what convinced me on it! Their design inspirations come down to trying to balance a few different ideas: making the patterns and palettes of both look oddly similar (special mention to the stars, since those are fun to draw), basing them off of Felimare sechurana and juliae respectively, using blocks of color with the same placement as in Enot’s official art, and specifically making Enot look...biologically reasonable and imperfect, whilst also clearly trying to imitate human displays of emotion (what with...the eyes and blush on that one piece of official art).
Lastly, here’s just a lineup with notes on body shape and size. Most of the nicknames (existing to give a little more space, that’s all) are obvious, and while I can’t remember why I shortened Nightcat to Nox, it is in honor of my friend by the same nickname :]
Tumblr media
#survivor rain world#monk rain world#hunter rain world#nightcat rain world#gourmand rain world#artificer rain world#rivulet rain world#spearmaster rain world#saint rain world#enot rain world#slugcat rain world#rain world#peridots-art#< feels like too long since that last tag's been used. i can say with certainty that the majority of the reason i haven't been just as#active here (not to mention not drawing as often since that's relevant) is just due to my life getting busier with a new school year but i#do miss putting my stuff here! and would like to reblog more on top of that.... so forgive not remembering exactly how to tag everything#(and how to write everything up there but to be fair it's not like long textposts were a staple of mine. i mostly just rambled and it was#fun hehehe.....some of those notes (parts of riv/spears mostly) were written around the beginning of the drawing itself)#OH i messed something up with the drafting and really did not mean to post it while tags were in progress! but regardless. i would've liked#to post it tomorrow to mirror how i was going to post it on JAN 29 a month ago......but it's not like i'm unhappy with this outcome :]#to sum it up really though it's been strange working on this for so long.....unfortunate to not get a chance to let it be seen and keep#experimenting with odd biology much earlier but i'm just glad it's out now cause i am proud of these!! it's been a lot of fun and slugcats#are still my go-to doodles :] if i had to end this off promptly though what's up with that secret pipeyard shelter as gourm that's not on#the maps. connected to vs_a04. doesn't appear on the miraheze or interactive maps for anyone strangely but i've only been there as gourmand#anyway! i'm sure there's a lot i could've said in the rush but goodbye dear reader anyway :]#i forgot spearmy initially. i'm so sorry
289 notes · View notes
whamss · 3 months
Text
"Making Rosemary tea drinking lesbians is bad" says Internet User, but not because it strips them of their characterization and turns them into carbon copies of each other, destined to sit in the background while other characters (men) have character arcs around them, but because they aren't Silly Enough. No no, we don't need to flesh them out, we just need to turn them from Wise Lesbian Couple to Comedic Relief. This will fix everything wrong with fandom depictions of them. *Wipes sweat from forehead* Woo! Being a feminist is so tough!
388 notes · View notes
Text
I've been thinking a lot about Leonarda's not-death ever since it happened back in April.
("What death?" you might ask, to which I say: "EXACTLY!")
Back in mid-April, Vegetta and Leonarda were mining together in a one-block wide tunnel. A mob (a Petriman) got between the two of them, and Vegetta told Leonarda to step back while he took care of it. At this point, they'd spent enough time together that he trusted Leo to listen to him.
Instead, she was killed by the same sweeping edge bug that killed her siblings.
-
Vegetta's reaction here is what's really interesting to me. Unlike most other parents on the Island, there are no shouts or tears – only a very brief "Hmm" and then silence. He very quietly takes stock of the situation, saying "Vegetta, no" and wondering aloud why Leo didn't defend herself. In chat, Foolish says "It was a bug, right? LAG" to which Vegetta slowly responds "Yes, lag. Bug." (Despite this, Foolish still asks "WHAT HAPPENED" in chat, though Vegetta doesn't reply).
Instead, he creates a slightly wider space in the tunnel where Leo's body is. He continues quietly taking stock of the situation, wondering why Leo didn't defend herself (which is what necessitated his intervention). She'd been lagging a lot that day, and he figures that must be the cause, and eventually when Leo re-appears out of thin air in the middle of the cave and collects her stuff, she confirms that the lag got to her and that's why she didn't fight the mob.
Now here's where things get interesting:
Vegetta checks the tab list. Online, it's just him, Leonarda, Roier, and Foolish. He quietly tells Leonarda "The body has already disappeared, and without a body, there is no crime. Nothing is happening. Did you die?" Leo shakes her head, and Vegetta shakes his head too, and in the kind voice he uses sometimes with Leo, he says: "I believe you have not died. Where is the body? It isn't anywhere, no mija. If it was a mistake, it was a mistake."
Leo says: "I saw Diosito (God) pa, and I was scared. God, what am I doing here?" and Vegetta laughs, telling her it's alright. Leo says "No pasa nada (don't worry / nothing happened)" and Vegetta says: "And the people who are watching us have not seen it either." To Foolish and Roier, he messages: "Secreto."
And the funniest thing about this is it worked.
Not a single person spoke about it. I saw this entire event go down live and I didn't see a WHISPER of what transpired among fans. I can't even remember if the QSMP official accounts talked about it (they sure didn't mention it in Vegetta's recap of the day). We could discuss this in meta terms of course– Leo was having known lag issues that day, Vegetta's beloved by the admins so of course they're willing to turn a blind eye rather than slap a "?" over Leonarda's life on the Eggstatistics, but meta talk isn't what I'm interested in here.
I'm interested in q!Vegetta, the weird "god-adjacent" aura he's got, and the way the universe bends to his will.
Before he took a break from the server, Rubius seemed to be a caretaker for the Eggs who died (for example, he was present when Maxo, Quackity, and Mariana & Slime said their final goodbyes to Trumpet, Tilin, and JuanaFlippa). Because of his role as an "angel" and some of his dialogue during the early days of the server, it's not a stretch to say he probably came to collect any Egg who lost a life. I can imagine he did the same when he saw Leonarda die – that is, until Vegetta said "And the people who are watching us have not seen it either." Realistically, we know Vegetta was saying this to Chat (and possibly the admins as well), but again, we're looking at this from an "in-universe" perspective.
I wonder if Vegetta was aware of Rubius' role, and this was his way of telling Rubius "No. I won't allow that to happen." We know Rubius has a soft-spot for Vegetta (and we also know that Rubius was cast out of heaven several months later) so it makes me wonder if these two instances are connected.
Either way, this isn't the first time the laws of the QSMP universe have bent for Vegetta, and I certainly don't think it'll be the last.
Rubius or no, Leo didn't die that day.
Vegetta made sure of it.
362 notes · View notes
wishluc · 11 months
Text
I. Miss. Solomon.
Tumblr media
When you smile at Solomon, it feels like he's the only one you're looking at.
It isn't true, of course, because Mammon's got an arm around your shoulder, crowing about winning a bet of some kind, and Satan immediately gets your attention with yet another picture on his phone, but it gets too easy to pretend because you continue to sneak looks back at him and share a small, secretive smile with him, and what else would that mean?
The closeness of the demons does little to bother him. He's reassured by the knowledge that when the brothers finally retire for the day and you're allowed to leave, Solomon is the one who comes to walk you back. You believe that it's because he knows you're not the mysterious demon everyone makes you out to be, and that he's there to make sure you get home safe and provide company, but the possessive arm he has around you and the sharp, pointed gaze that linger on whichever of the brothers are at the door to see you off tells an entirely different story. None of them would dare tell you about their suspicions, however, not when it's abundantly clear that you hold him in higher regards to the rest.
Sometimes your smile catches him by surprise. His movements falter, spilling the tea he was pouring out for you the first time he catches you looking up at him with that fond expression, and though you later fuss over him and the hot liquid spilt over his hand, the moment is burned into his memory. It becomes a regular sight, too, as the two of you share a warm cup in Cocytus Hall after a hectic day of you working as an attendant. You smile at him, a lovely turn of your mouth, while recalling the adventures of the day, and Solomon holds the tranquil picture close to his heart.
Admittedly, the domesticity of it all is getting to him. (And to you, if your words are anything to go by). There's something enticing about knowing you'd be there to do the mundane tasks with him; cleaning, grocery shopping, and even cooking, despite how panicked you get sometimes. He starts letting you know when he's going shopping so the two of you can go together, and it quickly becomes a regular, anticipated event. Whether you were shopping for cutleries or groceries or a new pair of matching mugs after Mammon accidentally broke his, you always found a way to make it enjoyable. He thinks that he finds comfort in the normalcy of it all; you quickly stopping him from buying ingredients that are "too adventurous" or the cauldron that you claimed there was no space for. He finds that he likes doing all these activities with you, and most of all likes having you as a constant part of his daily life. He likes waking up to see you starting on breakfast already, insisting that he's been working too hard and that you'd cook instead, he likes the weight of your head on his shoulder during movie nights and he likes the knowing grin you shoot him when you hand him coffee in his mug.
These days, he anticipates seeing you smile at him. You turn to look at him, amused when you boldly tell Mammon that Solomon's your boyfriend (and he beams at you, proud and ecstatic at the blatant lie), and you offer him one of your sly grins when you're planning a way to annoy Lucifer again. The small one when you confess to him that you almost don't want to leave anymore, too, is dear to him. Your awkward, lopsided smiles when caught up in a situation you aren't too pleased about, too, are charming to witness, but the way you run over to him immediately after and push yourself into his side is even more delightful.
But his favorite one yet is the warm smiles that you share with him, when dinner turns out better than you'd hoped or when you successfully cast a spell. It's a heartwarming sight, all bright and unabashed affection, and breathtaking when the light falls on your face just right. None of the others can ever coax out a similar expression, because he's the one you rely on in this timeline, and he's the one that comforts you after a difficult day and promises to protect you if anything were to happen. He's the one you hold on to and call your boyfriend, and he's the one ushering you down the streets of Devildom.
Those, he knows, are special. And only for him.
Tumblr media
all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)
691 notes · View notes
veggiecorner · 3 months
Text
Food for thought but what if the house in Hateno was just Zeldas at first? Link wanted to give Zelda a place to stay where she can rest without being reminded of her duty every 5 seconds (which was why staying in Kakariko didn't work) and he knew he's not the type to sit around and rest. He does want to stay by Zelda's side however, but also felt awkward about living with her. So he does this thing where he just checks in with her every few weeks/months but travels around doing tasks for the people. Whenever Zelda wants to travel he's immediately by her side, but once she's back in Hateno he's just "...okay see you later......" and leaves. Zelda wants to tell him to stay a bit longer, but is too uncertain to break that boundary between them. Also she doesn't really want him to feel like he has to stay by her side. She wants him to have his freedom.
But suddenly him being gone for 2 months becomes 6 weeks...then it becomes 1 month...then 2 weeks....then a week...and one day he walks up to Zelda and just says "...can I stay over for the night?"
And so the house in Hateno starts to feel a little less lonely from then on.
175 notes · View notes
27-royal-teas · 10 months
Text
look ive seen a lot of weird takes about the we didn’t start the fire cover because apparently (?) some people are mad (??) because ‘anyone can put together words that rhyme, they should have put the events in chronological order’ (????) and I’ve decided that look, it doesn’t matter if it’s chronological, because this is it. It’s events that matter to this generation, and it SHOULDNT sound exactly like billy joel’s version. they’re not going to be billy joel. NO ONE is going to be billy joel. the point of a cover is to make it your own and by making the events out of order it seems more frenzied and crazy, which, to be honest, the events it covers ARE. it IS crazy. and to end with ‘world trade, second plane’? that is INSANE. I got chills. that is a moment that the people who were alive during the event will remember FOREVER. it literally changed the entire course of history and started a spiral of events not only politically but musically as well, starting in an idea and ending in we’ll carry on. It makes perfect sense to end a song about the chaos of the modern and recent world on an event so defining in people’s- relatively recent- lives. and I saw this pointed out too (I believe by @thekintsugikid) and I wanted to mention it. fall out boy says, ‘we’re trying to fight it.’ In Billy’s version, he said ‘we tried to fight it.’ and look. we are trying. The world is going to shit. We’re all going to die someday, probably in some gruesome way. but we’re trying. we’re trying to fight it. we have hope, this younger generation. we won’t give up. we will survive. persistence, I think, is the biggest part of glory. and so, it just means something to me. it doesn’t have to be in chronological order. it doesn’t have to be perfect. the boys had fun, and that’s what matters, but I really think that the cover does reflect us overall
424 notes · View notes
nanamiswidow · 5 months
Text
a little nanami x reader smut for funsies.
an: i've never posted my writing on tumblr sooo a lil nervous about this. & its been so long since ive written smut, v rusty. i was also testing myself in the beginning to try and not use dialogue bc i feel like i use it too much so the beginning may be extra garbo. if this doesn't do well, pretend it didn't happen. boarder credit as well <3 the purple stars & the mdni
word count: 1,497
cw: (sleepy in the first half) unprotected sex (p in v), singular gendered term (kento calls reader 'sweet girl'), hair pulling, dirty talk, creampie, garbo smut (?) idk (if i missed any pls lemme know)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It was 1am by the time he finally stepped foot into the shared apartment. Nanami knew he wasn’t going to be greeted by you, but there were a few things out of place that let him know you had tried your hardest to stay up. The living room tv still displayed a quieted movie, a few lights still lit, and the person of the hour snoozing peacefully on the couch albeit looking a bit uncomfortable in their position.
He loosened his yellow tie as he wandered through the apartment, switching off the rest of the lights, and eventually making his way back towards the living room. He reached over, his fingers brushing your hair out of your face as he turned off the screen. You stirred just enough to catch a glimpse of the man before you which forced you out of your sleep almost entirely. You graced him with a sleepy smile which he was quick to return. You mumbled something about trying your hardest to stay awake until he came back, but he shook his head, his fingers finding your hair again to successfully move it completely from your face.
Nanami coaxed you up, finally wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. Despite having just woken up, you didn’t hesitate to find his tie, your face turning to concentration, a very sleepy version of it, as you undid it completely. It brought a sigh to him once your fingers moved to the first few buttons of his blue dress shirt. There was a comment about how tired he looked and he showed no effort to fight the accusations, leaning forward to press his face into your neck which was confirmation enough for you. There was a deep inhale from his end, taking in the scent that was just completely you. He could tell you had taken a shower before you had laid in wait for him. It brought him immediate comfort. You exhaled a laugh, your fingers burying themselves into his hair as you returned the physical affection. 
Relocating to the bedroom didn’t take any kind of effort. You reluctantly allowed him to disappear into the bathroom, he promised you a quick shower as you climbed into bed. He kept his promise, reappearing ten minutes later, completely ready for bed. If his attire hadn’t said so, the look on his face definitely did. 
Now, Nanami was ready to climb into bed himself. Sleep was not far off and he was looking forward to getting some shut eye. The second he got comfortable, he reached over and you didn’t waste any time snuggling up to him. You were met with the smell of his own conditioner and soap, smells that just instantly reminded you of him. You hummed in pure bliss with your nose pressed up against his cheek. 
Nanami was unphased by the closeness and, in fact, you weren’t close enough. One large hand dipped beneath the covers, his fingers finding your thigh to bring your one leg over his waist as he brought you flush against him once again. His hand lingered, fingertips pressing into the soft skin, and his thumb began to lazily caress your thigh. It was such an innocent thing, maybe even mindless, trying to coax the both of you into sleep faster, but it was doing the opposite.
Eventually, you sat up, straddling his waist now. He let out a huff, he didn’t want to deny you anything, but he made the argument of how late it was and how tired you looked. You scoffed, if anything, he was the one with the dark bags under his eyes, but you reassured him. Leaning down and pulling him into a kiss finally for the first time that night. The way Nanami held onto your waist was definitely contradicting his earlier statements. The kiss was innocent at first until you licked your way into his mouth which caused his grip on you to tighten. Soon enough, he was forcing you to rock your hips into him. The movements were slow, far too concentrated on the way the other tasted, until his grip on you was borderline painful.
Nanami leaned his head back as you pressed kisses into his cheek and down to his neck. Your fingers reached between the two of you as your fingers felt for the waistband of his pants, he assured you it wasn’t necessary, even apologizing for starting something he probably couldn’t finish. You shushed him, reassuring him with a few gentle kisses, watching his head dip back once again as your fingers wrapped around his cock. 
“Let me take care of you…” You whispered against him before pulling him into another kiss as you lifted your hips up. Discarding your panties before your hand wrapped around his cock again, running the tip through your slick folds a few times, whimpers spilling out of you as you did so. Nanami watched as you teased the both of you, his fingers running up your thighs before grasping onto your shirt, bunching it up so as to not block his view. He wanted to watch you sit on his cock. Wanted to watch the way you took him in and to watch your face contort with pleasure.
And you didn’t disappoint. You lowered yourself down onto him, the both of you gasping as your bodies connected and Nanami watched your eyebrows furrow and watched you bite down onto your lower lip. And you wasted no time, almost immediately beginning to move up and down on his length with ease. You were so warm… so wet. Just for him. 
A breathy moan escaped your lips as you leaned forward, burying your face into Nanami’s neck, your hips keeping a slow pace. One of Nanami’s arms wrapped around your upper body while the other held onto your hip, coaxing you to continue your slow movements. He buried his own face into your neck, breath hot against your ear, and inhaling your familiar scent.
“Missed you…” Nanami whispered into your ear, his hold on you tightening to better emphasize it.
You felt yourself melt further into him at the sound of his voice. The two of you had only been apart for a few hours, but you had missed him just as much and he could feel it in the way your body clung to him. Those few hours were usually spent worrying about him and it was always a sigh of relief seeing him come home in one piece.
“Just like that…” His voice breathy now as his hand tightened on your hip. “Feels so good…”
He felt your inner walls clench around his cock, making the both of you moan and causing your hips to falter in their lazy movements. Nanami continued his whispered praises into your ear in between shaky breaths and sighs of his own until your body tensed up, feeling that all too familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach, as you came around him.
The man beneath you didn’t give you any time to recover. His broad arms wrapped around your body tighter as he planted his feet on the bed and fucked up into you, spurred on by the feeling of your orgasm, the feeling of your pussy wrapped so tightly around him. His pace was brutal, the tiredness he felt just a few moments ago completely gone, replaced with the need to have you, his fingers digging into your sides. The overstimulation of it all was overwhelming, but intoxicating at the same time. 
“That’s my sweet girl… Always take me so well…” Nanami whispered out against you, one of his hands coming up to grab locks of your hair, pulling your face out from being hidden against him. “Tell me how badly you want my cum…” He continued, feeling his own orgasm building up. The sounds you were making, the creamy ring around the base of his cock, and the sound of skin against skin was becoming all too much. 
“I know you can do it, baby…” Nanami encouraged, emphasizing his words with a small tug of your hair. He could see the words just on the tip of your tongue.
“Need you to fill me up… want every drop…” You finally managed. He was utterly satisfied with your answer, proud even. He let your head drop back down to his neck as he wrapped his arms around you again, tighter, to finish fucking you properly. 
It didn’t take long for his thrusts to falter, a few curses escaping his lips under his breath as he filled you with his milky seed. The feeling of him filling you never seemed to get old. Once you both caught your breath, you lifted your head up, giving him a sleepy smile, one he didn’t hesitate to mirror. One of his hands reached up to caress your cheek before pulling you into a soft kiss that had you melting into him all over again.
181 notes · View notes
blueskittlesart · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
cold fruit in a hot kitchen (so i had this great watermelon last weekend)
#so I had this great watermelon last weekend. and the thing is it probably wasn't even that great of a watermelon#but I was four hours into an eight hour shift and we had thrown out all the watermelon salad because no one was eating it#and then our manager ran in and yelled that the client really fucking wanted watermelon salad.#so like six of us servers started frantically chopping watermelon. and the kitchen got really hot#in the way it does when everyone inside it is really stressed because there's no fucking watermelon salad#and after we chopped all the watermelon and the client got their fucking watermelon we all had a moment#where we looked at the remaining watermelon and we were so hot and cocktail hour was almost over anyway and the salads were all plated#and we all went for the watermelon and we ate it with the kind of rabid intensity you only get while eating cold watermelon in a hot kitche#and it was the best watermelon I have ever tasted and several days later i am still chasing the high of that fucking watermelon#and the thing is i know it isn't even the watermelon i'm actually missing#it's the feeling of cool liquid on hot skin and the feeling of a crisis averted and the feeling of camaraderie#that comes with devouring a watermelon in a hot kitchen with six other people who you have nothing in common with except that watermelon.#i don't dream of labor but i am dreaming now of being 4 hours into an eight hour shift eating watermelon in a hot kitchen.#i dream of laughing around the cold fruit in my mouth. I crave that watermelon like i'll die without it.#< honest to god this is real and that watermelon left such an impact on me that i had to draw it and write this. having a normal one#maybe this is insane but working in a team of people you truly like to do something you actually enjoy is so underrated#if only they fucking paid me i could work as a server for the rest of my life. unironically#skribbles
356 notes · View notes
jtl-fics · 11 months
Text
Fluent Freshman - Part 20
PREVIOUS
FF had watched more than a few self-defense videos when he believed that Andrew Minyard was looking for a dark alley to stab him in. He had learned how to turn the attacker’s momentum against them. Had learned about disarming the person trying to stab him.
He’d even had Matt teach him a few punches claiming that it was for the dust-ups that tended to happen on the court.
He, naturally, does not use any of that knowledge because his mind immediately reverts into Lizard panic mode the moment Jackson Plank takes another step forward with a knife (HUGE. Is it wild that he is thinking about Crocodile Dundee right now?)
“If you come quietly you won’t get hurt.” Jackson says and he reverts to who he is as a person and he freezes. His bravery was used up maybe it was only ever tied to great pump up songs and now in the silence of the alley he is back to being Stone-Faced Smith.
“You’re going to dial up Wesninski and if you don’t say EXACTLY what I tell you to then I’m going to have you SING in agony.”
Y’know in that moment he stops thinking about Crocodile Dundee.
He thinks about a movie that is far more ingrained in his mind than any number of self-defense videos or one-off lessons with Matthew Boyd where he’d been trying not to flinch. A movie he had watched in better days with his family and had been a favorite of his Grandma’s (and his).
He thinks about Miss Congeniality.
Sandra Bullock as Gracie Hart has taught him everything he ever truly needs to know when he takes a step back and Jackson comes at him.
He strikes right at Jackson’s nose with the palm of his hand.
“SON OF A-“
The knife is dropped and FF kicks it under a dumpster.
FF grabs the single weapon he has on his person.
The McDonald’s Megamind Happy Meal Light Effects Brainbot.
He points the LED light straight at Jackson’s eyes and just like Aaron in the car on the way back, “Shit, that’s bright!” And now completely blinded by a combination of watery eyes and LED McDonald’s toy he proceeds to SING just as Gracie Hart had taught him.
S - Solar Plexus. He punches Jackson there as hard as he can.
I - Instep. He smashes his booted foot down on the inside of Jackson’s shoes (who the fuck wears LOAFERS to a kidnapping?)
N - Nose. He’d feel bad about hitting it again if Jackson wasn’t y’know…a hitman out to hurt Captain Neil.
G - Groin. He may have to give himself just half a second to apologize to all of mankind for what he is about to do. His step brothers had definitely kicked him in the groin plenty of times to try and get a reaction. It’s an art to not let anyone know that your ball has retreated up into lower intestine. He kicks Jackson as hard as he can (collegiate athlete) with the boots that Nicky had let him borrow. He is right on target with the toe of his shoes.
Jackson goes down.
The next thing he does is not something Gracie Hart had taught him but does still feel like the right thing to do in this situation. He kicks Jackson in the head and the man goes limp.
If FF throws both hands up in the air and lets out a “I am Miss Congeniality!” Victory cry into the alleyway well no one is around or awake to know that.
He feels like he deserves a sash and a crown and some flowers.
He looks down at Jackson and then over at the van the man had hopped out of. He was definitely PLANNING on kidnapping Captain Neil so he probably has like…some kind of restraint?
Well, better to completely subdue this guy before he tries to figure out the game plan for Romero. Wait, what’s that next to the Crocodile Dundee knife, are those...?
***
Roland is calling for a second time.
Andrew had let it go to voicemail the first time. It was usually Roland complaining about Nicky, Aaron, or Kevin doing something exceptionally stupid in their inebriated states. They have a system. Roland will call and leave a voicemail detailing the dumb shit his family has gotten up to and then he’ll let it go.
If Roland calls twice then there’s an issue.
Arm still around Neil’s shoulders he answers the phone, “What.” He asks.
“You need to help your new friend. There’s some guy following him, he’s armed and dangerous and looking for someone to grab to get Neil’s attention. He tried to lead the guy outside but he’s standing watching it for now so there might have already been someone waiting?” Roland gets out in a rush and Andrew is up and moving towards the stairs even as he’s closing the phone to disconnect the call.
Neil, of course, is right on his heels. “What is it? Did something happen?” Neil asks and they are up the stairs and pushing past Frank and his stupid pineapple shirt. Andrew spots Nicky and he spots Aaron.
“Get Nicky and Aaron somewhere safe. I need to go help Smith with something.” He says because whoever this is wants Neil and Andrew will not let Neil get within grabbing distance and won’t mention it. Neil, blessedly, does what Andrew asks without question.
Andrew scans the crowd and finds a man whose gaze goes between his phone and the back door.
A face that Andrew had memorized.
One of Nathan’s surviving men.
In the same Zip Code as Neil.
And that man has the audacity to still be breathing.
He looks and Nicky and Aaron (drunk, drugged, and useless because Andrew had wanted them to be) are with Neil and Roland is directing them to the backroom.
Andrew goes out the alley and can feel Romero’s eyes on him.
He’s prepared for a lot of things to see out in that alley. He’s angry that FF hadn’t just come down and grabbed him and Neil (he does not need TWO martyrs) and he wants to know what the fuck FF was thinking (or if he was thinking at all). Even with that anger he does not wish to see FF’s blood spilled all over an alleyway because Andrew’s family needed to be protected and FF was the only one sober enough and aware enough to do it.
He knows what Nathan’s men are capable of.
Knows that Romero was one of Nathan’s best so if there is someone out in the alleyway then it’s likely one of his other bests.
FF doesn’t even know how to use a knife. He had asked and FF had firmly declined every time Andrew had brought it up after the first fainting incident. “I’m not interested in learning that. No.” Had been the standard response.
He knew FF had at least taken a lesson or two from Boyd on throwing a punch considering the one he shot out a week ago when a Striker came at him after the third time FF intercepted a pass.
Still, Andrew had not anticipated coming out into the alleyway and finding an unharmed FF securing an unconscious Jackson Plank’s arms behind his back with fuzzy handcuffs.
“Am I interrupting something?” He asks and FF looks up at him with a flush on his cheeks.
“It’s not my fault this is a weird sex alleyway! They’re the first thing I found on my way over to the van to look for actual restraints.” FF says immediately and Andrew almost laughs at the insanity of it. “Wait, where’s Captain Neil?” FF looks around nervously.
“He’s with Aaron and Nicky in the backroom. Roland gave me your S.O.S.” Andrew says even as he quickly makes his way away from the door and towards FF. “Romero is watching the door. Let’s give him a reason to come out.” He says going over to Jackson and when he rolls the man over he raises an eyebrow at the piss stain on his pants and the blood dripping down his nose.
He looks to FF who resolutely does not look back at him.
It’s a story he’ll get out of his friend eventually. Looks like FF didn’t really need those knife lessons. Something settles a bit more in Andrew, it’s nice to have someone else in their group that could handle themselves in a fight.
Andrew finds a phone and FF rolls Jackson back onto his stomach, “He could choke on his own blood.” He shrugs and Andrew wouldn’t care if Jackson choked on his own blood in fuzzy handcuffs in a back alley but he can understand FF not wanting a murder charge.
Andrew looks at the phone and sees the the swipe pattern clear as day. It takes him two tries to get the order right but then Jackson’s phone is available for him to get over to the texting app.
The texts he reads there make him angry. There were a lot of plans on what the two of them were going to do to Neil before his body was offered up to a different crime family to show that Romero and Jackson had no loyalty left to the Wesninski line.
He types out a text to Romero that will have the jackass come out thinking everything had gone well and they had two hostages. He looks over to FF, “You ready for round two?” He asks.
“There isn’t a tap out option right?” FF asks and Andrew laughs at the joke.
Always cool under pressure it seems.
“No.”
“Then yeah, I guess just hit send.” FF says with a shrug.
Andrew does just that.
Tumblr media
MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
NEXT
Didn’t wanna leave ya’ll hanging on that particular cliffhanger for too long ;)
@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themugglemudperson​ @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​ @spencellio​ @adinthedarkroom​ @harpymoth​ @sufferingjustalilbit​ @anxietymoss​ @oddgreyhound​ @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​ @isoldescorner​ @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​  @roonilwazlib-main​ @crumplelush​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe​ @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​
The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.
As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it  right but you didn’t  get a notification there might be something  switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?
419 notes · View notes
Text
Every day I wake up, remember that a Miss Holloway musical HAS ALREADY BEEN WRITTEN, and feel myself go feral.
192 notes · View notes
topaziraphale · 7 months
Text
"Stop saying Crowley won't help Aziraphale in S3 he'd go back to him in a HEARTBEAT and nothing would stop him" I get it no one likes the idea of Crowley being bitter after what happened for a long period of time but like can we at least acknowledge that he's currently going through probably the most emotional pain in his life since falling? Can we agree that he's opened his heart entirely - something you couldn't pay him to do unless the world is literally ending and he's desperate - to Aziraphale, and got shot down? Can we understand that he did it AGAIN only to lose Aziraphale again? Not that what Aziraphale did isn't without Crowley's own shortcomings (hiding the truth of Heaven's cruelty from him) but like,,,,
The appeal here isn't Scorned Crowley Doesn't Love Aziraphale Anymore, or Never Wants To Help Him Again, the appeal here is Crowley learning enough self respect to not just walk back right to Aziraphale like nothing happened after Aziraphale has had a pattern of consistently refusing him. Going years ping-ponging between "We're not friends I don't even know him" to "That's what friends are for right?" and "We're friends, why would you even say anything?" and "Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon!"
Like I get it, Crowley is a heartbreakingly forgiving person. Of course he's gonna forgive Aziraphale, I'll be surprised if he didn't forgive him by the time he walked out the bookshop door, but gdi he could at least grant himself the luxury of being at least a little irritated for longer than however long it takes to make a globe and some books float and angrily cry out to God in his flat. But due to the change of pace and dynamic that is establishing part of the conflict for Season 3, I just really like the idea of him for ONCE prioritizing himself and being like "Okay, fine. We'll get back at it when you're ready, then," instead of just taking Aziraphale back like his words and actions meant nothing to him, when clearly they have an effect on him.
What is Aziraphale going to learn if Crowley just accepts what he did so quickly, like he always has the entire time they've been friends? Idk maybe I'm just projecting too much darkness on their dynamic but I mean, if the pattern of Aziraphale pushing Crowley away/disrespecting him one day and then being fine with his friendship the next + Crowley never stopping to be like "Hey, that's not cool, at least give me a little credit" or smth was fine all along and will continue to be fine in the future, then why, after 6,000 years of being friends and loving this demon, can Aziraphale still not accept that Crowley is just fine the way he is, and instead got excited to promote him to an angel in a heartbeat once the opportunity presented itself? You can't blame all of it on Heaven when Aziraphale has demonstrated his free will/defiance to Heaven so many times. Or, I don't know, I guess maybe we can? Maybe I'm just craving too much angst to the point where I'm letting it cloud my analysis of canon. Idk.
222 notes · View notes
iaxsl · 3 months
Text
domestic cross guild, where mornings start off with a sleepy Buggy floating to the kitchen, eyes semi-closed. Mihawk at the kitchen island with two ready-made coffee mugs in front of him, silently sipping from his own while he passes one of the mugs to Buggy who wordlessly accepts and sits down across from him. Crocodile is soon trailing after him, also accepting the offered mug from Mihawk. no words are exchanged. Crocodile sets to making breakfast while Mihawk and Buggy move to sit at the table to give him more space. eyes still heavy with sleep, Buggy drapes himself on the table, trying to get a few more minutes of shut-eye. the sounds of Mihawk turning the pages of the newspaper and Crocodile humming as he cooks is a soothing lullaby to Buggy's ears by now. he has never had peaceful mornings like this before.
133 notes · View notes
willowser · 1 year
Text
katsuki jumps, startlingly, when you rub a hand up his back.
he's leaned too far down, bent over the counter at an angle that will give him an ache he'll complain about later, and his head whips up as you come to stand beside him. an e-mail on his phone is what previously had his full attention, but now he looks at you, eyes softening as you lean into his shoulder.
he's never been a very touchy guy. even after a year into your relationship, it's most often you reaching for his hand as you walk down the street; you pressing a kiss into his cheek while watching a movie on the couch; you running a hand through his hair as his breath steadies out beside you in bed.
it's not something you really complain about. you know how he is, knew before anything developed between the two of you, and you can't say it's a deal-breaker. there's little you know about his previous relationships or if he even had any, but you have the painful-gut feeling that affection just isn't something he's used to.
you press a smile into the sleeve of his shirt and his spine relaxes under your hand, finds that awful curve again. he watches you like he's waiting for something, tracing the tender details of your face.
"love you," you say, because do and you want to voice it aloud, put it into his mind even though you know he knows. as expected, his lips flatten into a wavering little line, shy suddenly, and your teeth wet the fabric of his shirt when you smile.
all you get is a little grunt in response and he dips his chin down in a wordless nod, accepting your lovey-dovey assault. it makes him feel a little helpless, you know, but you bring up an arm to wrap around him as he turns back to his phone, ears pink.
katsuki straightens with a dull pop!, stretching his arms up and allowing you to shuffle closer, so that your head is resting on his chest. you press your ear to it and wait, eyes closed, until the heavy promise of his heartbeat echoes like a drum in your ear. it's loud, and after a moment, your own falls into sync, right where it belongs.
"'s'wrong?"
"hm?" you glance up at him, the frown on his pink face, before breathing in the clean scent of his laundry soap. your laundry soap. and then you shake your head. "nothin'. just missed you."
"been home all day."
"i know," you sigh, letting your eyes fall shut again. the sound of his phone locking clicks and you can feel the slight down-slide of his sweatpants when he pockets it. "sometimes i miss you even though you're right here."
you expect — something; another grunt or laugh through his nose, a raspy little noise that voices his confusion. things like this can be hard for him; you know how he is, knew before anything ever developed between the two of you — but you don't think it makes him any less deserving.
katsuki steps back from you a little, and you feel the hesitant rise of his arm before you feel it. his hand comes up to your face — pink and scarred in your peripheral vision — and he tilts your head up, waits until you open your eyes.
when you do, it looks as if a million things are running through his head. his poker-face is good, it has to be, but you can see little bits of his vulnerability shining through. you wonder how long it's been since he showed it to anybody. he almost looks sad.
katsuki squeezes your cheeks until your lips pucker, and his frown deepens when you laugh. "y're so...damn weird."
that's along the lines of what you were anticipating: one of his teasing little insults, warm with a fire he's still learning how to kindle. you don't get the chance to say anything before he's kissing you, eyes shut tight, lashes brushing against your own.
you expect something soft, because affection is a fickle thing, from him — but his hand never falls from your face and his tongue is sliding with yours suddenly, a heated gesture that throws your heart out of whack. you let him kiss you as deeply as he can, until your back arches painfully backward over the counter as he leans into you.
when he pulls away, his lips are a little swollen and his cheeks are burning, as he presses one into yours. "i—jus'—" katsuki tries and then abandons it, a hand curling into the material of your shirt. "i get it." he murmurs, there, into the heated skin of your face, heart beating in time with yours.
things like this are hard with him — but he makes them so, so worth it.
946 notes · View notes