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yandere-sins · 7 months

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Favorite

You are Astarion's favorite blood sacrifice. He decides to reward you for it.

Characters: Yandere!Ascended!Astarion x GN!Reader Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Warnings: Yandere, Vampires, Reader nearly dies, Blood being mentioned in all manners, Biting, Death mention, Minor sexual hints, Desperation, Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Minor violent acts (not directed at reader except biting)

a/n: I don't have a big Halloween story for you guys, but I've been trying to get back into writing more and I've been working on this story the last couple of days, so I hope you enjoy it ♥ (I mean it's vampires so that's almost Halloween-themed right???)

Darkness is a vampire's best friend.

It shields them, hides them, benefits them—all without expecting something in return. It's nature's way of making up for all the pain and suffering it put its less loved children of the night through, and they welcome it, moonlight glistening on their skin, their perception so much sharper without the fear of sunlight's burn.

Like eager partners in crime, a vampire's gifts are amplified by what the darkness provides. They stalk in the shadowy coat of the night; see the prey that wants to stay unseen. Their voices, mellow and honeyed, sound even sweeter, whispered in the ears of those who wander into the vampire's hunting grounds as the creatures lure their prey with promises of grandeur. Fame, money, lust. It seems to be all that their food desires. What more could someone want who's unaware of being tricked? And so they follow wherever the masters of night command them.

Deeper and deeper into the darkness.

"Hello, darling."

You came to hate it—all of it. The darkness, the night.

The whispers and touches, promises and the hunt. You knew he had many more like you, living blood banks stored in cold, dark cells. You heard them scream every night when the bell rang twelve, the darkest hour of the day. Sometimes, you recognized the cries as the ones from days before, but you never knew when would be the last time you'd hear the poor souls lost in the darkness. New ones came and went, but you were the only one that remained after every night.

Somewhere between three and four months, you lost count of the days spent here. You tried to remember how many times you'd been visited, but one miscount, and now you didn't know if it had been one or ten years. You would have expected to get mad in the darkness, alone and aching from your shoulders to your ankles, with no place on your body unbitten. But Astarion was punctual—perhaps the only good quality about him. That was the only thing to keep you grounded down here.

He didn't miss a single day of feeding or, as he called it, spending time with you.

Alongside your meal, he showed up at exactly midnight every night, someone always there to close the door behind him without fail. You had never seen his face, but you had felt it plenty of times beneath your fingertips, enough to know he was one of those handsome bloodsuckers who kidnapped and locked you here. At least for now, as long as you were pretty enough in his eyes as well. Eyes that you felt creeping over your body the moment the only door to the outside opened, only more darkness waiting behind it. They mustered you, devoured you perhaps, an appetizer before the main course.

You knew nothing of your nightly visitor besides his punctuality and his name. There was no face to associate it with, just the feeling of his cold skin and the sharp pain of his fangs in your memory. And yet, something told you he was special even among his kind. Somewhat… superior. He still had the capability to be gentle if he wanted, never causing you to cry out in agony like the other sacrificial lambs did. And more importantly, after all this time, you were sure he was the one keeping you alive.

"Astarion," you greeted him, simply, calmly. Hiding the shiver in your voice despite the room growing colder ever since he stepped inside. It was hard to say if you were still afraid of death when it was a constant threat like a noose hanging above your head. Perhaps you dreaded surviving more than dying if you thought about it, your heart growing heavier with fear and loneliness every day. But at the same time, you grew more and more desensitized to the screams and pain and more used to the darkness.

Hugging your body with one arm, you used the other to walk along the wall to your chair, the wood creaking as you sat down, scooting it closer to the table. He liked it when you did what he wanted without him having to ask you to. Astarion's steps were non-existent, but you needn't wait for or invite him to join you. You could always count on his chest pressing against your back the moment you sat down as he leaned over you from behind. It was a familiar yet suppressive feeling. A reminder of your position.

You were below him, prey to be consumed. Yet, he treated you more like a pet, almost beloved, but at best, you were well-cared for. You doubted he could feel anything towards you that wasn't belittling. You'd not thrive in the darkness on your own, but Astarion knew how to keep you alive. A waft of roasted chicken drifted into your nose, hearty and mouth-watering, and you had no doubts it would be accompanied by sides that would nourish the dire lack of vitamins you had. He had always insisted on you finishing your plate, feeding you himself if he had to. It couldn't go that you'd not eat what he graciously provided. But this was the only meal you were given every day, and the loss of blood made you too hungry to strike.

You tried once. For almost a week, you starved yourself until you could not do it anymore. Continuing not to eat when you were starving and food was served in masses to you cost too much willpower that you didn't have. Likewise, eating the food with the condition that you had to sit on his lap and thank him for every measly pea he fed you one after the other was enough humiliation to never try that again. And Astarion had been happy since with your plate wiped clean.

"You smell delightfully today," he mused as he drew back from the table. You felt his lips brush over your bare shoulder, your breath hitching when he pressed them to the nape of your neck. You'd not put it past him to eat before you, even though he seemed satisfied waiting for you to finish most of the time.

"Garbor gave me new soap today. Roses, I think," you breathed, reaching forward to the cutlery that, no doubt, laid beside the plate Astarion brought. It just appeared, almost magically. But you were pretty sure it was there all along, Garbor, the guard, probably cleaning and switching it out while you were asleep. You didn't even know if his name was Garbor; you merely decided to call him that. After all, no one would speak to you here aside from Astarion, even if you knew they existed in the shadows.

"Sure, if that's what you want to believe," Astarion chuckled, his comment profoundly unsettling as you knew what he meant when he said you smelled nice. Your blood. To him, you must have smelled as mouth-wateringly as your meal did to you. You had always empathized with animals, wishing for them to live their lives as best as possible, even if they were destined to be slaughtered. Ironic, now that you were cattle to a vampire, likely being fed according to Astarion's tastes.

"Next time, I think I'd like something citrusy again. The last soap was divine."

His hands driving up your arms made you nervous. They were unfettered by your movements as you aimlessly tried to pierce meat and vegetables onto your fork, your eyes never adjusting to the complete darkness of the basement cellar. You weren't a vampire, after all. Despite the time spent down here, the broken fear and authority between you two, he could still make you nervous. And you talked when you were anxious, to the point you wanted to bite your own tongue off.

A mix of a chuckle and a scoff escaped him as he wrapped his fingers around your neck, his nails resting softly against your throat while his thumbs ran up and down the sides of your spine in feathery touches. Slowly, reassuring you of his presence. And the ability to snap your neck with this formidable cut-throat necklace. He readjusted his touch a few times until his pointer fingers pressed against your pulse on one side, your gullet on the other. Enough for you to eat and breathe, but you didn't dare to move your head.

"I shall tell… Garbor, to fetch that for you. Anything else? Another pillow? A new shirt? Would my darling fancy some earrings? We just so happen to have someone donate a wonderful pair of rubies that would look so beautifully dangling from your ears."

A shudder went through you; the word 'donate' was not one to take kindly. People donated to charities and beggars. Not to someone who could put meat on a plate every day for you and obviously had no saintly bone in his body. Gulping down the chicken that got stuck on your tongue as you listened to the sultry voice of your captor, you put down the fork for a moment to think, clearing your throat as best as you could with his hands still pretending to be a necklace.

"A candle maybe, and a book. I feel like now's a great time to pick up a new hobby."

You heard the grin spread on Astarion's lips as he chuckled, his thumbs curling inwards until you felt his nails press against your skin. "I do so very like those entertaining ideas of yours, sweetling. But alas, I'm afraid I cannot give you that. You'd end up preferring the book over my company!"

"How could I ever, Sir? I wasn't planning on going on a paper diet."

This time, he actually burst out into laughter, hands disappearing into the darkness as you presumed he held his stomach from the ache of amusement. You wasted no time to stuff two more bites into your mouth as long as you had the freedom that was oh-so short-lived. His hands banging on the table in front of you created an explosive sound in the small confinement you called home. Compared to the cold body pressed against you, his breath skimmed your ear warmly, his voice like honey dripping right into your ear.

"That's why you're my favorite. Those little witty comments of yours have saved you so many times, you know?"

The food you were so eager to sneak into your mouth now threatened to fall out of it as you couldn't find the strength to swallow. Some instinctual part of you waited for him to attack, exploit your vulnerable self. It readied you, muscles tense, body paying attention to everything it could perceive (which was shamefully little with your senses so inferior to the vampire). But then there was the rational part of your brain, currently occupied with the warmth of his breath gracing your ear and cheek, and his words.

Favorite. You were his favorite.

You forced yourself to finish chewing, slowly, embarrassingly aware of Astarion waiting for another 'witty' remark from his favorite. Favorite late-night amusement? Favorite person to take care of? Favorite blood bag? You felt his eyes drilling into your jaw expectantly as you chewed your food properly before you leaned forward to reach for the cup of water that was unmistakably always on the table. Perhaps because of the darkness, you were so very aware of your hair brushing his nose and the deep inhale it caused Astarion to take before he pressed his face into it, gripping a bunch of it with one hand and forcing you to halt.

"You're my undoing, pet."

"Really?" you said in your most convincing, surprised voice, trying your hardest to sound as fake as possible. Revealing his thoughts to you might have given you a chance to bargain with him, even though this cell and the darkness had long become much safer than anything he could offer. In reality, you knew better than to trust the words of a vampire, yet found yourself truly surprised about the reverence they were spoken with. "It's hard to imagine I could do such a thing. I'm just sitting here."

Astarion hummed, amused, satisfied with your remark once again. Another chance at life, how you noted duly. Perhaps he liked the challenge of you playing his game, neither of you ever speaking the whole truth and coating your words in sarcasm and fake friendliness. Or maybe vampires were accompanied by madness that made them prefer prey who didn't cave as easily into a begging, sobbing mess. Prey like you.

"It's been years—no, decades since I last took a liking in someone, and you have no idea how much I longed for companionship like yours. It's exciting and a bit of a tease. I couldn't bring myself to kill you yet."

"How very gracious of you," you praised, hoping he didn't pay close attention to your face, a grimace edging into your features.

"You know, I might even be convinced to return you to the light. If you ask, nicely."

And suddenly, there it was. You gulped as you felt your stomach twist anxiously, suddenly attacked by something you had long abandoned. Hope. A glimmer of it, at least. You remembered the days when you had still banged at the door, demanding and reasoning with anyone who'd hear you to release and let you go home. The early nights when you dreamed about the sun and the warmth of being surrounded by people. And now the time had finally come to reclaim those wishes, almost bringing you down to your knees.

You knew you couldn't be so foolish as to retort to being a boring, begging nobody. You had to be his favorite. Crawling over the dirty floor and clinging to him for dear life wasn't going to cut it, no matter how much you wanted to. Because yes! Yes to the surface, yes to leaving all of this behind. Escaping him would be much easier when you weren't locked in the darkness. You had waited so long for the sweet embrace of death and endured so much pain when you were forced to survive pitifully like this. You even became his favorite. And now it was paying off—if you played your cards right.

"Ah… I don't know," you sighed. You could hear your own voice, thin and nervous. Excited. Your mouth was dry, but your heart was banging against your rips. Undoubtedly, he knew that, but you hoped Astarion would forgive your very appropriate reaction. Maybe even fancy it.

Every flinch of your muscles and every word carefully uttered was driven by a hope that Astarion could easily crush if he disapproved. You never saw yourself as exceptionally talented with words, but if that was what he wanted, he should have it. Your mom would scold you for being a brat, but this vampire here favored your attitude enough to keep you alive, so it had to be good for something. "I was just starting to get comfortable here. It's so… cozy."

"Well, I have it cozy up there as well. Cushioned chairs and silk sheets—only the best for my best."

It was strange to hear his voice in the same tone as his usual banter, even though you could detect another tone swinging in the background. It was but an insignificant waver, one of uncertainty and doubt. Desperation. Maybe not as much as you, but he wanted you to agree, his reasons unclear. And yet, your heart setting out a beat must have given away that you recognized his wish since he added, "You were always a marvel. But imagine how good you'd look by my side up there. My consort. My favorite."

"W-Well, are the beds soft?" you pressed out quickly, trying to avoid the sensual allure of his voice being murmured into your ear. You didn't mean to stutter, biting your own tongue before deciding to calm yourself with deep, quiet breaths that you hoped he didn't notice. But you knew that everything he said went straight to the unreasonable part of your mind, the one a vampire knew to manipulate so well. But in your desire to get out of here, eagerness and giving in too easily could cost you everything.

"Very," he mused, and you were relieved to hear him still in good spirits, his next words almost a lilt. "Soft and warm. Like you."

"And the food?" you asked, gulping. You didn't care for the beds or the food.

"Oh, the food!"

His exclamation caught you by surprise, as did the sudden disappearance of his body. For a moment, you thought you had ruined your chance. Had gone too far with your hesitance. But next you knew, you felt his hand fall to your shoulder again, running down your arm until he had your wrist in his palm, lifting it to his face. Astarion planted one kiss below your thumb, then moved on to kissing the pulse beneath it.

"It's delightful! Delectable! The best you ever had. And me for dessert. You won't lack anything, I promise."

His promise meant very little to you, and yet, as he littered your wrist with kisses, you couldn't help but cave. It was everything about this situation, the hope, the reverent kisses, the empty promises, that blinded you from the danger. You hadn't questioned his intentions or the price you'd have to pay. Not when he spoke to you as if he was laying the world at your feet, promising you the moon, the stars, and everything beyond.

"Ask me, pet, and you can have it all. The luxuries, the world, me. All you have to do is ask, darling."

There they were, the simple, honeyed words every human wanted to hear. All feeding into your own desperation so perfectly as if they were made just for you. As if you were the only suffering fool in this world, and perhaps to Astarion, you were. The grin curling his lips upwards against your wrist revealed just how much of a fool he took you for when you opened your mouth again.

"I…" you hesitated. But not long enough. You had too much to lose, despite not knowing what you were going to lose agreeing to this. "I want to go to the surface."

"Do you now?" he smirked, and you felt the hard edge of his teeth as his lips parted in a wide grin.

"I want to, Sir. I want to be your favorite. I want to be by your side. Please take me with you."

For a moment, there was silence, then Astarion let out a hum of satisfaction followed by a deep breath.

"Oh, you are, darling. You are my favorite. I've longed for this moment for so long, yearned for it every damned day and night, and finally, it's here. Let's be together forever, alright? It'll hurt only a little, and then we'll always be together."

"What will hurt?" you asked before you felt the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into your arm. You knew this pain, the searing burn of his fangs piercing your skin. You had felt it a hundred times, no, a thousand. But this one was short-lived, blood dripping from your hand as you bit your lip, holding back the tears. No one liked tears, and you were too close to your goal to ruin it now.

"Endure it," he purred, and it was almost a shame that he noticed, considering how much you fought yourself to keep your composure. "You'll have to bare this beautiful neck of yours if you want to be mine, darling."

There was another moment of hesitation, the taut skin of your neck always hurting the most if he bit it. But why even did he have to bite you? What good were two more bites of you in this dark cell when he could assume you'd be at his beck and call upstairs as well? Astarion couldn't know of your feeble escape plans yet, so he had no reason to doubt your devotion. And even if he did, wouldn't he enjoy feeding from you in one of the more comfortable beds he mentioned?

But pondering was of no use to you. You had to comply if you wanted your dreams to come true. Turning towards him and laying your head to the side, you could feel your hair fall out of the way, baring your neck so beautifully. "Yes, Sir," was your short, meager reply, and yet your arm immediately fell to your side, one of Astarion's hands wrapping around the back of your head while the other weighed down on your shoulder, keeping you in place.

"That's a good pet," he mumbled, face inching closer to your body with every spoken word. You braced yourself for the pain, the burning, the mess it would make, and you took it like a champ, which you probably were after all those bites—at first. However, all the bites before eventually ended. They never lasted more than a few minutes at worst. But not this one, and that's when you realized your mistake.

You gasped as you reached for him, grabbing his clothes like a lifeline to hold onto. Tears fell freely as the pain didn't stop, your body growing lighter while Astarion had little problems keeping you in place. "It hurts!" you sobbed as your thoughts became less reasonable, less controlled. Everything began to swim, and though you were sitting, you felt like you were going to fall. But even as you struggled to stay conscious, Astarion didn't stop, didn't care.

By the time you realized you were going to die, it was already much too late. Your life was drained out of you with all of your blood. At least you didn't have to feel the pain of your crushed hope or the desperation of, once again, being stuck in this cold and lonely darkness. If you were honest, you looked forward to escaping all of this, as had been your destiny for so long. At least this way, you'd be free, too. Differently than you thought, but free nonetheless.

"Mhm, darling. Even now, you're ravishingly beautiful."

You could hear the voice, but your body had no blood left to supply your brain, so it could understand anything. You didn't even feel his uncharacteristically warm fingers smear a thick fluid to your lips, slipping in to coat your tongue, reflexes working even when you were as good as dead.

"And you're mine. All mine."

At least you wouldn't have to die in this dark cell, though you had no strength left to think about what shithole you'd be thrown into instead. Your body was but a sack of skin and bones in his arms as he carried you outside, your head empty like your blood vessels. But even as you lay dying in Astarion's arms, getting carried away, you knew one thing for sure: You hated it. The pain and the blood. The cold and this evil man that had held you like a cattle for so long only to kill you just like everyone else in the end. You hated him. You hated everything.

And most, you hated the darkness that continued to surround you, enveloping you mercilessly as it cooperated with your murderer. Unaware that you, too, were meant to succumb to it. That your dying body was changing into that of a child of the night, a spawn to the very same lonely vampire you so willingly promised eternity to in exchange for what you believed had been your path to 'freedom'. The same freedom you'd never have now.

Because you were his favorite.

And he'd never let his favorite spawn leave.

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charliesgoodboy · 7 months

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can i req top ghost w nsfw prompt 7? hes so fine AAUSHSHGGH

2023 S. GHOST RILEY🎧

i already told her "if we gon' do it, then we gon' do it my way."

i don't even know this shi don't make sense

ion even know who the fuck's my friend

don't trust nobody(don't trust nobody)

song: . . .ılı RED EYES BLACK DRAGON CHAIN odetari

TW: shower sex, insecurities(?), male leaning reader(fem still welcome), reader is amab shower sex, yes the 1k event is still open i'm just lazy, are people even still in this fandom?, mb this took me like a month or so, maybe more, i don't remember, nor do i care, orgasm denail, ya'll have no idea how deep i had to scroll to find this i convinced, this is short because i'm gonna rush quickly through some requests

simon ghost riley who wouldn't like showering alone. sure before you, he would but it wouldn't mean he'd enjoy it. he felt weird showering by himself and he wasn't sure why he would just get a pit feeling in his stomach making him churn and end up leaving the sower earlier than intended. but you, you made him feel better or good enough to shower. he'd allow you to sit on the other aide as the two of you talked but you'd do most of the talking it didn't matter to him as long as you were there with him. you just made sense with him, made him feel like someone sometimes.

simon ghost riley who would end up letting you get in the shower with him this time, the hot water on the both of your bodies with the steam leaving the white shower curtains. his arms around your waist crossing over your stomach his head resting on your shoulder, basically saying thank you. "you alright si?" "mhm." he was tired, but he still loved the feeling of you, your own skin being a tad bit warmer than his giving him a sense of nostalgia that he couldn't describe all the well but he was into it. little too into it.

simon ghost riley whose hands would wander further between your thighs then back up, a small chuckle being heard in one of your ears giving you a embarrassing feeling. "damn it simon.." he'd shush you quietly turning you around after settling a few kisses you the back of your neck, his lips finally onto yours feeling your head tilt and your mouth open the smallest bit, the tip of your tounge touching his before the kiss was broken his hand further down starting to move up and down your shaft starting off slowly his thumb moving the silk over your tip his lips moving back down to the skin on your collar bone.

simon ghost riley who would have his length move in and out of you subtly, the water now running cold as his hand would be clasped around yours that curled onto the flat checkered surface of the shower wall. back arched, and legs slightly shaken your whines and moans echoed throughout the base, along with simons own grunts and soft groans. "fuck si..your gonna make me—" "not yet." your thighs rubbed together at his words your head leaning down. you'd make him feel good in many ways. many, many ways.

#cod ghost #cod x reader #cod x male reader #cod x you #cod mw2 #cod mw #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #1k event #bottom male reader #bottom reader

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justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 2 months

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Hello! I loved your platonic headcanons for one piece so much! So comforting! If it's no trouble, may I ask the rest of the strawhats too? Only if you're comfortable, of course! 🩷

Hi Anon! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I am currently up to episode 451 (Impel Down) of One Piece so please keep that in mind while reading. I hope you like the headcanons!

Platonic headcanons on Usopp and Brook can be found here!

Fandom: One Piece

Characters: Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro, Nami, Sanji, Tony Tony Chopper, Nico Robin, Franky, Jinbe x gn! Reader (separate and platonic)

I hope you’re an energetic person because with Luffy as your friend, there’s never going to be another peaceful moment. He’s always dragging you and all of the other Straw Hats into an adventure.

Speaking of energy, he’s got a lot to spend so you can expect him to ask you to fight or play with him a lot. The same way he’s always playing with Chopper and Usopp, you’re now included in the mix.

Gives surprisingly good advice at the least expected moments. You could be sitting quietly and suddenly, he’ll run over to you and provide you with a profound and perfect solution to a problem you mentioned to him two days ago.

However, don’t expect him to have good answers for everything. Sometimes, the best he can offer is “maybe you should have something to eat?” And that’s okay, duality is something you learn to expect if you’re friends with Luffy.

I feel like Luffy is the kind of person to share clothes platonically. Not his hat of course (unless it’s a special/rare occasion) but his shorts and vests are up for grabs. He just thinks it’s cool being able to swap clothes with his friends.

Definitely the kind of friend to give you a huge hug after you’ve been apart. Even if it’s just for a couple of hours, you can still count on a tight embrace when you reunite. He just misses his friends when they’re not around.

This guy will give you the most insane presents you’ve ever received. Whether it’s a shiny rock, a marine’s hat, or a bug he picked up, you never know what you’ll be handed next. Best not to ask where he got things from though…

That one friend you can’t take anywhere without being prepared for anything that might happen. A simple dinner? You’re going to have to be prepared to run when no one can pay for the amount he ate. A walk along the beach? Now he’s fighting the seagulls. It’s always an adventure.

Nap buddies. No elaboration needed. If you enjoy taking naps, wherever Zoro is is the best place to be. Luffy usually leaves him alone when he’s resting so that means you’re likely to be left alone as well.

He’s also the perfect person to train with. He’s got an insane workout regime so don’t even try to keep up with him but being in his presence is a good motivation to try harder.

Speaking of, he’s a lot like Luffy in that he’s very motivational. However, unlike his captain, he’s a quiet inspiration. He might not say it often but if you ever get a few words of praise from Zoro, take that to heart. He really means it.

Says the most out of pocket things sometimes. He won’t even react to it. One minute you could be relaxing together, the next he’ll say something like “hey, have you ever smelt your own burning flesh?” and never elaborate.

At the same time, he’s also that one friend that, while he doesnt say much, when he does speak, it’s either really profound or stupidly funny. There’s no inbetween.

I feel like Zoro’s weirdly good at noticing when people close to him have habits that harm them in some way like biting your fingernails or chewing your lip. He’s also good at pointing out when you’re doing something like that so you can stop.

Amazing at keeping secrets, if only because he usually forgets he’s meant to keep whatever it is secret and just assumes everyone else knows so there’s no need to talk about it.

In the same vein, Zoro will remember the most obscure details about you. You could tell him there’s a spot on your back that burns in the sun easier than everywhere else and a year later, he’ll remind you to cover up that spot when you dock on an island.

The single best person to go clothes shopping with. She’s got an eye for fashion like no other and will always give you honest feedback on any clothes you try on. Just be warned that she’s not paying for your clothes. That’s on you.

Oh my goodness, a second hand shopping queen! She knows all the best places to get good quality and high end clothes for discount prices. It's great going shopping with her.

Despite Sanji being the cook, I feel like Nami’s decently good at baking. She’s got a bit of a sweet tooth in my mind so, as a result, she knows how to make sweet stuff.

That one friend who is brutally honest with everyone, regardless of whether she knows them or not.

Following on from that last headcanon, you might have to bail her out a lot. She has a tendency to say the wrong thing to the wrong person and get in trouble. Good thing she’s got her friends for backup.

I feel like Nami has a habit of getting absorbed in her work and forgets to take breaks. If you want to help out, set up your work station next to hers and remind her to take a break whenever you do.

Really good with makeup and especially doing makeup and face care routines on others. If you need somewhere with your eyeliner or just want to have a spa day, Nami's your girl.

I feel like Nami would enjoy making jewellery from the treasure she finds. It increases the price if and when she decides to sell so it's a win-win. If you've very lucky, she might even gift you some jewellery she's made.

Feeling homesick? No need to worry, Sanji’s on the case. He’s somehow got a cookbook from your hometown or island full of things to make that taste like home for you.

Always doing little touch ups to your appearance, whether it’s adjusting your collar or tucking your hair back. Of course, he’ll always get the go ahead from you first.

Super empathetic. Somehow, he always knows how you’re feeling and will do his best to help you feel better.

However, just because he knows how you’re feeling, that doesn’t mean he always knows how to help. He’s good with comforting people generally but when it comes to something more nuanced, he can struggle at times due to not having much comfort in his life.

Speaking of comfort, he’s that one friend that always checks in with others but is super out of touch with his own feelings and health. Keep and eye on him in return and he’ll be very grateful.

If you like reading or writing, Sanji will ask you to help him make a cookbook or two. He really wants to compile all of his favourite dishes and figures the best way to do that is by making a book. He's just not sure how to go about it and would be grateful for any help you can provide.

He really loves spending quiet time with his friends one on one. Life with the Straw Hat's can be chaotic and loud at best so it's nice being able to relax in companionable silence for a change.

His love of gossip is only rivalled by Nami's. It's something he picked up from the Baratie and he loves being able to share lots of juicy stories with you.

Definitely the mum friend. Some might say it’s Robin but I think it would be Chopper. He’s always keeping an eye on everyone and trying to keep them out of harm’s way as much as possible.

However, this doesn’t mean he’s not a very chaotic influence as well. Once he lets go of his doctor’s instincts, he’s roughhousing right alongside Luffy and Usopp.

This one is more for the readers who experience periods or menstrual pain but if you ever have cramps, he’ll curl up into a ball that you can press to wherever it hurts. This goes for back pain as well if period pain isn’t an issue for you.

Speaking of back pain, Chopper is amazing at giving massages. You might not think it with his hooves but he’s light enough that he can stand on you in one of his smaller forms and really work out any kinks in your back.

I feel like Chopper does have the bad habit of giving unprompted diagnoses and can be a bit naggy regarding healthy living. It’s just because he cares though.

The fastest way to find out if Chopper considers you a close friend is if he asks you to tell him stories. It doesn't matter if they're exciting or not, he'll listen attentively because you're the one telling it.

Love, love, loves doodling on his friends hands and arms. He claims it's so he can practise marking skin for surgeries but he really just likes seeing a visible sign of the fact that he has friends.

Will use you as a reason to get sweet treats, especially if you like sweet stuff as well. Otherwise, he'll use the excuse that “it's a hot day and you've been really active so you should have something to make sure your blood sugar isn't too low, I'll have something too to keep you company!”

Robin is definitely that friend who will make a comment about getting rid of anyone who annoys you that you’re not sure is a joke or not. She does mean well, she just has a…unique way of expressing it.

In the same manner, she knows so many facts, both relevant and completely obscure, that you’ll never have to look far for information.

This sort of follows on from my headcanon about Chopper’s role as the mom friend: Robin is the cool wine aunt. Sure, she cares about her friends deeply, but she’s happy to take a backseat and watch the chaos unfold rather than try and prevent it.

Definitely a daydreamer. She’ll often gaze off into the distance while sailing between islands, clearly lost in thought.

Robin likes memes, especially dark humour ones or ones that Facebook mums would post. That's just the sort of thing she likes and if you're her friend, you'll be shown all of those memes.

I feel like she has a collection of weapons from different cultures stashed away somewhere. If you ask to borrow something, she'll be more than happy to show you how to use it most effectively.

The most responsible driver and happy to drive you wherever you need to go. However, she will be assertive when the traffic's particularly bad so hang onto your seats and buckle up!

I feel like Robin is good at sketching things quickly and accurately. She has a good eye for detail and, if you ask her to draw something, she'll pull together a drawing in a matter of minutes.

Need anything made for you? Franky’s the man for the job. No questions asked (other than what’s necessary of course) and he’ll work tirelessly until it’s perfect. There might be some interesting design choices though.

I think if you’re a creative minded person or have a talent for designing things, Franky would value your input in his designs.

One of the most chill people to hang out with one on one if you’re not super chaotic like Luffy. He’s very adaptable when it comes to his energy levels and will match the mood of the room.

Franky would absolutely be a theatre fan. While that might seem out there, it just makes sense. He’s already got a flair for theatrics and music so it would be right up his alley.

He’s a great listener. If you’ve got ideas or just need to talk through, he’s a good sounding board. He’ll also do his best to give feedback or advice where it’s required.

Franky is weird through proxy. Hanging out with Robin a lot does that to anyone so if you have strange hobbies or interests, you'll hear no judgement from him!

Following on from my headcanon that he'd make things for you, if you like collecting things or cosplaying, or just need props for something, this is the guy to ask. He'll get a few reference pictures and make an amazing replica for you.

Franky has a knack for photography. He's not really sure how he acquired this skill but he's certainly not complaining. If you ever want some “professional” photos done, just ask him and he'll be more than happy to help.

Jinbe loves talking about books. If you're a fan of reading or just want to listen to him ramble for once, bring up books and you're set.

Jinbe plays golf. I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules. He knows it’s not everyone’s thing but he’d enjoy it if you tagged along for a game every once in a while.

He enjoys carrying his friends around and giving them piggy-back rides. He’s got the height and strength advantage, and it makes him feel like even more of an unofficial dad than he already is.

Prone to spouting quotes or sayings from ancient generals and philosophers at random moments. They’re always relevant to what you’re saying or doing though so that’s something.

In the same manner, he’s always got motivational posters laying around. You know those cat ones that way things like “hang in there” and “believe”. If you ever want some for yourself, he’ll happily help you pick out the perfect (purrr-fect) one.

Jinbe’s very good at giving advice. Unlike Luffy who gives good advice sporadically, Jinbe’s a lot more reliable. He’s got a lot of life experience to draw from.

He does, however, try to fix everyone’s problems for them, even if they don’t ask for help first. He only has your best intentions at heart but if you’d rather just talk things out or deal with things on your own, you’ll have to tell him that.

Always checks in on you before bed. It’s his way of making sure everyone he cares about is safe. If you want him to join you in your nighttime routine, whatever that may be, he’ll be more than happy to spend the time with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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dxwnstxr · 1 year

Note

Hii I have a request! How would Fyodor, Dazai and Chuuya react if their partner got pregnant?

If their partner got pregnant

Fandom: Bungo stray dogs

Pairing: fyodor, dazai, chuuya x y/n (reader)

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: Thank you so much for my first request!!!!

Fyodor

He would be very overprotective of you. He doesn't want anyone taking what's his. He would have a lot of trouble showing his love to you. He always works a lot so you both wouldn't be able to spend a lot of time together.

When you tell him your pregnant, at first he is shocked. At a loss of words. But after he is a happy. Though it was hard for you to tell due to the fact he isn't good at showing many emotions.

Nikolai, fyodors best friend, would offer to help take care of you. Fyodor would let him but of course set boundaries. He loves you so much he just need help showing it. Deep down, he loves the thought of having a mini you.

Dazai

When you tell him your pregnant, he first teases you about it, thinking it's a joke. But after seeing it wasn't he was speechless. He wasn't expecting this at all. He was totally up for the idea of having a kid, he was just worried about his past catching up to him.

He would be very protective of you. If he saw you with someone else, he would get very jealous. He would want to do everything for you. But when you both are home alone, he is loving and caring.

He would absolutely tease you about your cravings or mood swings, even your silly excuses about how you can't do certain things. He found them cute. He would as kunikida to cook for you. Getting kunikida to your house was easy. All dazai had to do was say your in Pain. Then boom, his there and ready to help.

Chuuya

Where to start. He would be an absolute angel to you. Giving you gifts and a bunch of sweet talk. He would help you shave, and eat. Sometimes even just getting out of bed. He would do the chores for you and everything.

When you told him about being pregnant he was ecstatic. He picked you up and spinned you around. He would have said it was the happiest day of his life. He loves you so much. And of course he wouldn't forget to still take you out on dates. He would remember that it might be hard for you to move around, and he would plan the perfect date.

Thought, there were somethings chuuya wouldn't understand. Like moodswings. He would have to go ask the women of the port mafia to help him. He would do anything to make sure your feeling perfect. He'd make sure that your silky hair didn't get ruined when you were throwing up. And when you felt sick he would take care of you like a baby. He is just perfect!

#xreader #fyodor x y/n #bsd fyodor #dazai x fem reader #bungo stray dogs fyodor #fyodor headcanons #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #dazai x y/n #dazai fluff #chuuyabsd #bsd chuuya #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs dazai #bsd headcanons #bsd nikolai

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11thsdoctress · 1 year

Text

“you’ve changed.” [10th to 11th Doctor / Reader]

Fandom: Doctor Who

Ship: 10th/11th Doctor / Reader

Word Count: 1947

Summary: After an argument with The Doctor, and leaving the TARDIS, you went back to your semi-normal life, but due to some nightmares, and maybe fate, you never thought you would meet the same alien with a new face.

Request: nope

He used to call you “my Cinnamon”.

“You’re sweet like cinnamon, love.” He would usually say that to you every time he would back hug you, and you didn’t mind it.

But now, that moment is now just a memory.

Five months ago, that was the last time you saw the blue police box vanish into thin air on your back lawn, The last time you and The Doctor talked, it didn’t end on good terms, both of you were practically yelling in the TARDIS, and you walked out of there, and moments later, the TARDIS vanished.

“Actually, you know what? Don’t bother even coming back here, I hate cinnamon anyways.” sure it was childish for him to say that, but both of you were in high temper so all sense of logic was thrown out of the window.

With that being said from him, you just left the TARDIS right after that event,

It’s been a while since you’ve been traveling with The Doctor, ever since that day, your life was quiet and normal, it was in a sense, odd. In your current daily life, it was just the sounds of cars, birds, people, and the telly, it was, in a way, oddly boringly normal, you were so used to the sounds of the TARDIS, the whirring of the sonic screwdriver, and of course, The Doctor yapping away about the day’s destination or adventure.

Ever since after that day, you’ve changed.

You try to isolate yourself from people most of the time, and you changed how you looked as well, just to keep your mind off the Doctor. But two things stayed the same, your love for the Doctor, and the fact you couldn’t blame him for what happened that caused the both of you to part from each other.

It doesn’t help that you still get nightmares from some of the adventures, from the Slitheens to the Weeping Angels, a lot of the times, this made you wake up unbearably early in the morning, tonight was one of those nights. Every time it does happen, you silently curse the fact that every nightmare reminded you of him.

You frantically wake up, screaming sometimes, and finding yourself screaming for the Doctor to save you, only to be reminded that you were alone in your space.

Facing the clock on the nightstand, it read, “2:35 AM”, you sighed as you rubbed your face, silently thanking your past self for sleeping at ten in the evening, you dreaded these nights, it always ended up with you staring at the ceiling, waiting for time to pass by, before getting up for work.

Getting up and heading to the bathroom felt like a chore, you looked at the mirror and you noticed the dark shades under your eyes, and the tired look was becoming more obvious as more nightmares happened.

You remembered that every time you had nightmares, the Doctor would be next to you in case, and sometimes even hold you close so you would fall asleep again quickly. That made you confused about your feelings towards the Doctor.

So when the TARDIS vanished for the last time, you were relieved that you didn’t have to be afraid of your feelings about the Doctor, but at the same time, you were hurt beyond comprehension, since you didn’t know when you would see the Doctor again, and you’d fear that you’ll never see him again.

You finally snapped back to reality when your childhood friend, Amy Pond, snapped her fingers in front of your face, “Hey, you alright? Come on, you need to open the coffee shop, you can’t just be daydreaming out here.” She was pushing you downstairs into your own store from your space upstairs, as she was helping you set up. “Thanks, but you didn’t have to help me get my butt out and help me set up, after all, I still owe you a cup,” you say as you put the menus and cups on display.

“Still, you look so down in the dirt for the past few months, and it’s only now I get to see my lovely quirky little best friend.” She handed you your apron, and you nodded and wore it.

“And I didn’t want to bother you, since you were traveling a lot recently with your boyfriend, Rory? Right?” You were getting ready to make a couple of cups for both of you and Amy.

“Yeah, but I had to make time for you.” She smiled as you grabbed a jug of cold brew from the fridge, pouring it into the cups, before handing one to her.

“Also you might wanna add two more cups of coffee since Rory and a friend are coming over in a short while.” She leans on the counter,

“So this friend, do they go with you on travels?” You asked as you started preparing the two drinks,

She nods, “He does, as a matter of fact, he reminds me of you, energetic, quirky, and just an adult child.” she smiles.

“Hey!” you say, playfully pretending to be offended, which made both you and Amy laugh,

The both of you were enjoying your time together, then you went back to professional mode when you heard the bell of the door rung, and two men were entering the shop.

“Okay, Rory, whatever you say.” The taller man, donning a bowtie, told the shorter man as he looked confused,

“Boys.” Amy shot a glare at the both of them, which made them instantly quiet, before turning back to you and dragging the shorter male.

“This is Rory, my boyfriend, and the other..” The taller man froze as he looked at you, which made you confused, there was this feeling that you knew this man, but you weren’t so sure until he spoke.

“C-cinnamon?” He spoke softly as he looked pale and on the brink of tearing up, which made you freeze and the couple confused at his reaction.

“By the way this is..” Amy pointed at the taller man, and as she was about to introduce him, you already knew.

“D-doctor?” You spoke out as you were trying to keep yourself together and not just immediately burst into tears, you had tons of emotions running through your body, but you had to look cool, calm, and collected, you didn’t want to be hurt over again, you don’t want to experience the same pain over again.

“You both know each other?!” Amy exclaimed as she looked at the both of you.

“Ponds, may I talk to her alone.” His voice was a tad bit unstable but gentle and sad. They nodded and went outside the shop.

“Y-you’ve changed.” He started off as he carefully goes closer,

“I should be the one saying that to you, didn’t expect that regeneration did that much.” You bitterly joked as you looked away, not realizing that he was closer than you expected, last time you saw him, he was wearing a striped brown suit, styling his hair in an organized mess sort of way, now he wore a light brown coat, with dark brown pants, adding a bowtie and suspenders to his shirt, and his hair was now a bit longer and was styled properly.

“Look, I know I should’ve apologized sooner, but I didn’t know what to say.” he begins, “I didn’t know what had gotten into me, I didn’t wanna lose you, risk getting you captured or killed, and I… I really didn’t mean what I said back then… I-I’m sorry..” he was tearing up and it was a painful sight to see. “I’m sorry for telling you all those nasty things, I’m sorry I pushed you away, I’m sorry I didn’t apologize to you sooner, I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to tell you how much you mean to me and-” You just suddenly pulled him into a familiar embrace, he immediately melted to your touch, He had missed the way you held him, and for him to be able to feel that again, made him shed more tears.

“Doctor, it’s okay, I’m fine now, Although I’m still recovering from what happened before, I’m much more okay now, all that matters now is that you apologized, and if you want, you can make up for the lost time by staying, but you don’t have to-”

“I want to make up for the lost time.” he says, “and I wanna make up for what I should’ve done back then.” He slowly looks into your eyes, as you held his cheek and wiped a tear from his face with your thumb.

“Then, Do it, Doctor,” you say as you were now anticipating what he’ll do.

He held the back of your head and slowly kissed you, he was kissing you like he was waiting for this moment for a while, it had a hint of desperation and carelessness, but yet still gentle and passionate, as his other hand was finding yours, slowly intertwining your fingers with his, and deepening the kiss before pressing you against the wall, and with his chest pressing on yours.

The both of you kept on going until the both of you had to catch your breaths,

“I’ve noticed feelings from and for you, Cinnamon, I’m sorry that it took me this long to be able to tell you, that I love you…”

“Enough with the apologies Doctor…” The caffeine was starting to wear off as you were now trying your best to keep your balance and not fall off.

The Doctor notices this, his happy face dropping to a concerned look, holding you, making sure you don’t fall, “Are the nightmares still getting to you?”

You could only nod in response as you yawned.

He thinks for a bit before smiling at you, “Ah yes! I know just the fix!” He helped you up the stairs, to your room, he had first helped you get comfortable on your bed, grabbing the extra pillows and placing them next to you, before finally, removing his jacket and laying next to you, making you lightly blush.

He chuckles as he noticed this, so he scoots closer and cuddles you like how it was before, with your head next to his chest of two hearts, and his arms around your waist, sometimes he would play with your hair and watch you fall asleep. Bit by bit, you let the sleepiness take over you, and the Doctor was now finally happy and whole with you in his arms, He kisses your forehead before he too, drifts off into sleep.

Hours later, you wake up to the Doctor’s arms wrapped snuggly around your waist, you looked up a bit, and he smiled as he looked at you back, “Good Morning Beautiful.” He kissed your forehead as he snuggled up to you since the TARDIS was more chilly than usual.

“Do we have to go somewhere, Doctor?” You asked, silently hoping that this moment would last longer,

“Nope.” He said as he plays with your hair, “Actually, I don’t want to move until we have someplace to be.” He chuckles softly, making you giggle and lightly blush at his response.

“Or is there somewhere you wanna be?” he asks

“Actually, I don’t mind where we go, as long as I’m with you, that’s all I need.” He nodded, “Let’s stay like this a bit more before getting the Ponds for a day in 1890, we’re going to meet a master of color.” He held your hand and kissed it as well, “I can’t wait to be with you for the rest of existence.” He smiled and kissed your forehead once more, “My sweet cinnamon.”

===============

Author’s Note: man- it took me days to get this done, I hope to write more for ten since I also love him as much as I love eleven, but I hope you enjoyed reading, feel free to request or comment, like, or reblog, small stuff like those mean alot to me.

#tenth doctor #eleventh doctor #tenth doctor x you #eleventh doctor x you #tenth doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #doctor who #10th doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #10th doctor #11th Doctor #10th doctor x you #11th doctor x you #doctor who x you #DW fanfic

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babiebom · 4 months

Note

Heyy it's me again, lol. Ur criminal minds hcs for Reid were so good!! Thank u for blessing me. 🙌🏻 I was wondering if ud be down to write maybe a one-shot or a drabble of Reid comforting a reader (I almost wrote reider bc I spaced out and like akjsldj) who just had friends leave them when they thought they were really close? I hope that's not too specific!! Thank you sm for blessing the world with ur writing. It literally makes my day so much brighter whenever you post. 🥰

A/N: CUTE!! Reider would be a really cute fandom name for him ngl. Also I’ve fallen out of contact with friends that I thought were gonna be in it for the long run with me but unfortunately it just didn’t work out that way even if we didn’t fall out. ALSO specifics are great with me because then it’s clear what I need to write and what you want me to write so don’t apologize!! Can you tell I don’t know how to comfort anyone?

Tw: some cursing, some abandonment issues, mentions of bullying within the friend group. Isolation, ghosting. Lmk if there’s something I should tag!

Genre: angst, one shot, some fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (can be read platonically or romantically in think. Also can be read as gender neutral maybe?) if I added pronouns or descriptors let me know!!

Wc:1.3k

Criminal Minds Masterlist

It’s strange when you break up with a friend, even more so when the reason that you breakup is something stupid, something avoidable. It hurts even more when you get abandoned, ghosted by someone you thought would be in your life for the rest of it. No one ever prepares you for friendships ending. You get prepared for romantic relationships, death, and maybe sometimes you drift apart from friends but even then you’re prepared.

You stare at the group chat that had defined your childhood and teenage years. Stare at the names followed by “has left the chat” with a feeling in your heart that is only rivaled by death of a loved one if you remembered correctly. It had been a while.

It was a petty argument that only lasted a day, something about how everyone treated you. You regretted bringing it up on the first day that you had been ignored after sending a message. That day turned into a week which turned into them all leaving the group chat without telling you which hurt more than being kicked out of it. Did you really mean that little that they would ghost you that easily?

You never started arguments usually. You never even participated in them, trying to stay neutral in order to keep everyone happy. Always passive and agreeable and everyone liked you that way. The one time you have something to get off your chest…maybe you shouldn’t have said anything.

You tried to message one of your friends first, you hadn’t known her as long as some of the others in the group, but she was always sweet and didn’t seem like the type to ghost.

You 5:43 pm: Irene what happened? I saw you all left the group chat. Is something wrong?

You don’t get an answer back for an hour. And it makes your heart squeeze in your chest. It isn’t really an answer, but at the same time it answered both of your questions. To her you didn’t really matter all that much and something was really wrong.

Irene 7:01 pm: just leave me alone. You said what you needed to say, if you message me again I’ll block you.

You try again with a different friend. One you have known a little longer. One who had complained to you and confided in you and one that you thought you were close to than this.

He doesn’t answer at all, and neither do the other two that you message. Eventually you figure out that your messages never sent because you had been blocked. Going to their instagrams and twitters, everything is gone as soon as you click on them. Even their TikTok’s have nothing for you to look at.

Soon enough you’re fighting off tears, your chest tight and your stomach swirling. Was speaking up for yourself really worth this? Your head spins and your vision becomes blurry as you click on the last contact that’s available to you.

Your best friend. Having known her for the longest time out of all of them, you’d think she’d say something before doing something like this. You two met in elementary school, and were friends before the group got together. If you think about it more your friendship reminded you of the one in Jennifer’s Body. Except instead of saving everyone, you were being ignored and abandoned by the person you thought was going to be there even if everyone else wouldn’t. The person that you thought you could rely on.

But before you could message her, one came straight to you. The bubbles popping up as she’s typing something else. You can’t really understand the first paragraph, your mind to overwhelmed by the weeks events to be able to read.

Emilie 7:42 pm: I just wanted to message you before you tried anything with me. I’m honestly not interested in talking to you anymore after how you talked to me and my friends. None of us want you in the group anymore, and honestly it’s fucking pathetic that you’re reaching out and asking if anything is wrong when you’re the reason everyone was upset in the first place. Like you said we were shit friends, and now you wanna act like everything confuses you? If we were so shitty to you, why do you want us to still talk to you? I told Jacob, Josh, Irene, and Paisley to block you if you message them because honestly they don’t need you to try to beg and plead with them. You’re toxic and we’re done with you. Honestly, you look pathetic and desperate for attention messaging all of us like this. I’m not even gonna bother blocking you because it doesn’t really matter that much to me and maybe in the future I could be open to being friends again but for right now, I’m over it. Bye. You should do better.

Now the tears fall down your face, hot and burning as they trail down your cheeks and onto the screen of your phone. Going onto instagram to doom scroll your feelings away, you are immediately met with a photo of your friend group hanging out without you. Taken aback, you try to bring yourself to unfollow Emilie, to block her and effectively cut her out of your life while your wounds are fresh and your friendship is newly ended so you don’t have to torture yourself. But that’s exactly what you do, torture yourself. Instead of unfollowing her, deleting all of the pictures of her and your friend group from your feed, you scroll through them, the tears falling faster the longer you sit there and reminisce. You don’t even hear the front door open and close, and the only reason you know it did is because of the weight that causes you to lean towards the new person in the bed. Warmth blankets around you, the feeling of arms wrapped around your body brings you out of your mind.

Turning to look at the man next to you, you see that Spencer is looking at you as if you’re a wounded animal and it makes you burst out into tears. Maybe you really did look pathetic. “Oh no…what happened?”

You tried to explain, but couldn’t properly while you were blubbering. Instead you just throw your phone to him and let your head fall into your hands. He takes a literal second to read, then lets out a gust of air that usually meant he was surprised and didn’t know what to say.

He moves to hug you again, resting his head on top of yours. “You know…they say that it takes 200 hours to form a close friendship with someone. And when that friendship ends unexpectedly, it can cause a multitude of issues in the future with how you trust and open up to people…”

His ramblings weren’t all that comforting, but just hearing him speak made you start to feel better. Of course he would attempt to make things better by spouting facts that one hundred percent would make anyone else annoyed at him. You snuggle into his arms, nodding your head to show that you’re listening in between sobs. “S-so how long until I s-stop feeling like my h-heart is broken?” You ask. It did somehow feel like being broken up with, or having someone die.

“Well, most grief experts think that a year is a good estimate on how long it takes to get used to the loss of someone major in your life…”

“A year?” You whine, letting your head tilt backwards dramatically. “That’s too long!” It’s kind of a joke, the way you say it. But the way he looks at you lets you know that he knows you’re being somewhat serious.

“She was your best friend…of course it’s going to take some time to get used to not talking to her…however long you take to grieve is how long it’s going to take. It’s not a complete science.”

You nod, and hide your face in his chest. While you still felt like the Earth was ending, maybe it’s not ending right this second anymore.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds headcanons #cm x reader #cm spencer reid #cm #cm headcanon #cm Oneshots #criminal minds angst #cm angst #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid angst

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isa-ghost · 2 months

Note

shaking you by the shoulders. gnawing at the bars of the enclosure. begging screaming yelling sobbing crying for some happy qphil hcs . phil and his children. what do they do to destress. how do they recover from tragedy . p lease

Yknow what I need these so badly rn, I'm doing this ask first. Happy qPhil time.

qPhil headcanons masterlist

qPhil is a simple man. His kids are happy, he's happy. I've touched on this previously but they make him laugh so much. They're the fastest way to make him happy.

Seeing random pretty birds while on wandering adventures is another thing that makes him happy. They make him think of Rose.

I have to mention flying. I have to. I know it's angsty bc his wings are fucked. Shhh. Shut. Shut the up. It made him so happy. It still does, he has a glider and a grapple hook and a trident with riptide SHUT UP LET HIM FLY.

The times he and the kids share music together. The kids fucking love Battlecry and Dreamland and the three of them will start belting it out together.

Obligatory sparring mention. Listen some of the fandom makes pvp his whole thing and personality and that's not true but he's still good at it and likes it a lot. Esp when he gets to be unnecessarily homoerotic with Fit or Etoiles.

Building makes him happy ofc. Creating in general. He can't remember atm but he used to be an architect you could say, discovering the creations of the hardcore gods and tidying them up. Getting to make creations of his own for someone like him to discover one day feels fulfilling, even if he doesn't quite know why currently.

His friends' laughs make him happy. Fit's especially. You know the one. The one he does anytime he gets to be up to some fun destructive rebellious bullshit.

Messages aren't the only way the gods, especially Rose and Kristin, communicate with him. They give little signs that are subtle enough to go unquestioned by others but noticed by him. They're always with him and that makes his heart full.

I can't not mention his own stupid jokes he makes with the purpose of making Tallulah especially die inside a little. His lame jokes are for him and him alone sometimes.

The funny thing is when you ask what makes him happy without the involvement of other people, it might take him a second to answer, if he can answer at all. And that's not necessarily a bad thing. Yes, he's very "care for others and only the bare minimum for myself," but it's also a testament to how being loved and loving others makes him happy. Having people to make smile and laugh. Having people to show cool shit and teach cool things. Human connection makes him happy.

His crows and their dumbassery make him happy. For all the shit they affectionately subject him to and all the disapproval he puts on about the said shit, he'd be pretty lost without them. They've always been reliable to make him smile or at least feel heard when he has no one else.

He fucking loves all the cultural exchange he experiences with his friends. He could listen to Missa or Cellbit or Etoiles or literally fucking anyone talk for hours. God his friends are so cool and so are the things they tell him about.

Obligated to mention that the thought of Chayanne, a child, beat Ender King's ass for 3 days straight and bruised his ego so hard he gave up using Phil as a meat suit. It always cracks him up without fail.

Getting to reminisce to people about things. Especially memories of Techno or things he's done with Goddess of Death. He loves any excuse to talk about them and how awesome they are.

Crow brain means adventuring and finding cool loot makes him happy. Fuck EK he tainted it a little but Phil will reclaim the hobby if it kills him. He loves the rush of opening a new chest and seeing what cool shit awaits inside.

Okay listen this idiot is allergic to self care sometimes but god does he love the chill days where he and the kids just sit around or stay in one place and just hang out doing something fun and low energy. It's why he hates the reset. He wants the goddamn places they'd do that at back.

#qsmp #qsmp philza #philza #q!philza #qphil headcanons

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virgo-dream · 1 year

Text

One of Their Own 🏳️‍🌈✨

dreamling / queer joy / fluff / first kiss / 3,6k words

summary: Hob Gadling invites Dream to a meeting of the uni's queer clubs at the New Inn. Dream learns more about his own gender identity, and that he's very much in love with his best friend.

author’s note: this fic, this pairing and this fandom all mean the world to me, so I thought it was fitting to bring it back for pride month!

I’m incredibly thankful for finding Sandman when I did. Since joining this fandom, I’ve made wonderful friends and became part of a community of bright, kind, loving and loyal queer people that I would not trade for anything. I’ve learned more about my community and about myself, and I wave my ace/agender flag proudly now. This fic was written in a moment in my life where I felt hopeless and alone. Now, things couldn’t be more different. Happy pride sandfam! 🏳️‍🌈✨

read here or on ao3

Dream doesn’t get it at first. He never really did get it, but only attributed it to the need humanity had for labels, for packing things into boxes and saying this goes here and that goes there. Sometimes, it leads to this goes to heaven and you go to hell. It seemed to be a very common one, too. He was beyond that; his name said it all, Dream was endless. Not he nor she, not man nor creature, he was all there was to be and the nothingness beyond it. Gender and sexuality need not apply.

Still, it meant so much to Hob, that he’d have dreams about it. Nightmares too, for nights on end, and even if Dream begged Hob to allow him to take them away, Hob always declined, always braving through them. “If you take them, I’ll forget how much it all means. I’ll forget why I’m still fighting.”

They sat at the New Inn one afternoon, while Hob graded papers and Dream had a cup of chamomile tea, but his eyes couldn’t help but focus on a shiny pin on Hob’s jumper shaped like a flag, the shades of pink, purple and blue a spot of proud colour in Hob’s otherwise earthy colour palette.

“It’s the bisexual pride flag.”

“Hm?” Dream’s eyes darted up to meet Hob’s, tilting his head slightly. He wasn’t sure if he should feel bad for being caught, because he wasn’t sure what he was looking at in the first place.

“The pin. I wear it for my students, but also for myself. The kids feel safer I guess, knowing they have at least one of their own in the faculty. Can’t say it doesn’t make me feel good too.”

Hob has a particular tone to his voice that makes Dream’s heart sing in tune to its melody. It’s a fuller sense of self, maybe more than Dream ever had in regards to his own identity. “…one of their own?”

“Oh, I– Sorry, those are pretty recent.” Hob straightened himself up (ha) on the chair, his lecturing posture taking over. Dream liked when he did that. He liked to hear Hob speak of things he had deep knowledge of and passion for. “This one was created in 1988 by a queer activist called Michael Page. Had the pleasure of being there when it was first unveiled, but clearly it took a long time until I was able to wear something like this out in public and not be decked by some bloody homophobe.”

It was starting to sink in.

“…I’m afraid I was not present for these developments.” Dream saw the look on Hob’s face, like he was ready to apologise. He raised a hand to stop him, waving his concern away. “As far as I can remember, queer was not a form of self identification, but only a way to shun out those outside the established norm.”

“Ah, yes. We reclaimed it, though. Or are reclaiming it. The 80s were crazy. All of them were, for me.” Hob smiled at Dream, at their shared secret and at their years of now reestablished friendship.

“I think you’re lonely.”

Could it have been….? Could he have meant…?

“What does it mean for you, then?” Dream asks in a way he hopes sounds inconspicuous, pointing at the pin. He was hesitant to ask, afraid to be getting it all wrong.

“For me? It means I love whoever I love. Man, woman, either or neither.”

The pride coming from Hob’s words filled Dream with hope, something he had not felt in a long, long time. The look in his face then shifted onto something else, something he didn’t quite understand. “…what about you? That is, if you’re okay with talking about that. I don’t want to overstep. Last thing I want is for you to walk out–”

“I won’t, Hob.” Dream knew Hob had reason for feeling that way. “I don’t believe the terminology you have could define my experience. I have laid with mortals and gods alike, and have worn many faces and names. It is beyond human comprehension.”

Hob seems to take a moment to think about what he’d just heard. Dream feels like he might have thrown too much at his human friend. “…I think I get it. But, and tell me to bugger off I’m wrong, do you prefer to be a particular way? To be with a particular sort of being?”

Dream. Didn’t have an answer.

He never thought of what he preferred. He’d never felt in need of any sort of outside validation, but. That was a lie. He needed it. He just never cared to look for it.

Hob’s smile was what broke him out of the spell of his own self doubt. “It’s okay if you don’t have an answer. It takes people a long time to get it, it took me nearly 600 years! Ah! You know what? I’ve got an idea–” He reached inside his brown messenger bag, pulling out a colourful piece of paper, handing it over to Dream. A pamphlet for a meeting. “We’re having a meeting for the uni’s LGBT clubs here at the Inn. I want this to be a safe space for the kids, and to get them to connect with other folks in the community, share their experiences. It’s tomorrow, and I’d love it if you could make it. I’m sure they would too.”

Dream took the pamphlet in hands, looking at the bright colours and bold fonts, taking in every bit of information Hob was giving him and trying to fill in the gaps of the questions he wouldn’t dare ask. After a moment, he looked up at Hob, allowing himself a small smile. “I shall be in attendance, then.”

—————

Dream stood outside the New Inn, hands tucked safely inside the pockets of his coat jacket. He watched as groups of young adults arrived, greeting each other cheerfully. The hair colours and outfits reminded him of his sister, Delirium, but they all seemed to be more in line with her previous self; delighted to be there, happy to meet their friends. A flag danced in the light summer breeze on a pole next to the window, the stripes of colours brightening up the already lively scene. A rainbow, Hob had told him the day before, was the most recognizable symbol of the queer community. It now was accompanied by stripes of light pink and blue, white, black and brown. Dream enjoyed good symbolism, and he could feel the meaning of those colours to all who were present from their daydreams alone.

He, however, still felt like an outsider. Like he wasn't really meant to be there, save for Hob's generous invite. Dream was not defined by the same standards humanity aligned itself with; in fact, he wasn't defined by anything at all. He was not an individual, but the safe arms in which those dreamers rested every night, the common thread in their hopes, in their restful slumber. It would be silly to think that he'd need to identify as one thing or another, really. He was there for Hob . Because Hob invited him. Because he wanted to know more about the everyday life of his dearest friend. Because he wanted to hear him talk, see him inspire others with his tales, wanted to hear the sound of his voice, the gentle way in which he made people feel welcome, cared for, loved, he wanted–

Dream thought it best to wait it out, at least until most people had already arrived, until he had an idea of just how many young, hopeful minds would be in the vicinity. After escaping the Burgess Manor, Dream was faced with a considerable raise in the amount of dreamers under his care. He would not admit it to anyone but himself, but at times, it became too much even for him to bear. The idea of willingly walking into a space with so many people was daunting, to say the least. So he waited, watched as the New Inn became packed with dreamers, feeling his palms dampen inside the pockets of his coat.

Taking the first step towards the door was difficult. Pushing it open was even harder. Dream stepped in, careful not to bump into anyone or to even get too close. The sound of the little bell that was supposed to announce his arrival had no effect, as it was overtaken by the sound of chatter inside the Inn. It was better that way, Dream thought. Not having Hob rush to greet him. That way he could take a moment to adjust to his surroundings, maybe even blend in, become invisible. In hindsight, his usual choice of attire did anything but blend in there. He was a dark little cloud in a sky full of bright colours, like a multi-coloured sunset on a tropical beach. And of course, every sunset had its monarch, shining brightly, commanding the attention. That, of course, was Hob.

"Hello there, kids! Glad to see most of you could make it!" The cheerful, gentle register of Hob's voice filled the room, filtered by the small but potent speaker he'd rented just for the occasion. Dream could hear his voice clearly, and it helped him tune out everything else that wasn't his beloved friend. "This is the first of hopefully many meetings of our beloved Queer Clubs here at my beloved New Inn. I want you all to know this is a safe space for you all no matter what part of the gender and sexuality spectrums you fall on. The only things I won't accept here are discrimination of any kind, and anyone that thinks Lawrence Cheney shouldn't have won season 2 of Drag Race UK. Are we clear on that one?"

Laughter filled the room, and Dream couldn't help but allow his lips a small smile. Hob truly was a marvel. How anyone could shine so brightly was beyond even the dream lord's knowledge, but he was glad to be able to bask in that glow from time to time. He wished he could do it more often.

Hob was saying other things, Dream thought. Instructions on seating arrangements, subjects to be discussed, discounts on food and drinks. All Dream could do was watch as Hob did more than just make everyone feel welcome, but inspired them with hope and joy, a gentle breeze of acceptance, the embrace of a parent, the empathy of an equal. There was much to work with here, much to inspire new dreams. Dreams of comfort and love, of community and pride.

"Dream? You in there, love?"

Hob's voice broke the spell he himself had cast over Dream, who could now see his friend's palm waving in front of his eyes. He'd become lost in thought, it seemed. Dream's nose scrunched up at the interruption, looking at Hob with his usual look of curiosity. There was still much he needed to catch up on when it came to non verbal communication. "Aye. I'm here. Have I not fully manifested my presence?"

Hob chuckled, and his eyes wrinkled at the corners. "Oh, yes. Physically, at least." Dream's brows furrowed in worry, and he was glad Hob was quick enough to notice when something had gone over his head. "Just a joke– hey, I'm glad you could make it. The kids will love meeting you."

"Meeting me? There are far too many people here for you to make introductions. Besides, I know them all, and they all know me. They just do not remember it during waking hours."

This felt like a plausible enough explanation to keep Hob from actually introducing him to everyone in attendance. But Hob was far too optimistic to be dissuaded so easily. "I'm not talking about introducing them to Morpheus. I'd like them to meet my friend, Dream."

"I do not see the difference." He shouldn't say why he couldn't bear the idea of being introduced to so many people. Shouldn't burden Hob with his problems, that wouldn't exist had he just not been captured in the first place. Dream had been good at hiding his discomfort so far, and he'd continue to do so.

…well, maybe he was not so good at it. Not when Hob's eyes so clearly conveyed the worry that had just settled in his heart. It was difficult to deny Hob the truth when his warm, calloused hands took Dream's into his own so carefully, squeezing gently, as if saying you can trust me. I've got you. "It's okay if you'd rather not. I know it can be overwhelming sometimes."

"...thank you." Dream replied with a murmur. Hob gifted him with a smile. It seemed a lot could be said with just the eyes.

————

Even if Dream didn't intend on actually joining in on the conversations being held, he was glad to follow Hob along and listen to the discussions. It was amazing seeing just how bright the kids really were: they spoke of justice and equality, of inclusivity, of respect and love, of family and religion and sex and responsibility. It was a wider range of topics than he'd expected, an awareness of self he didn't think humans would ever possess, and now, he was glad to be proven wrong. He listened to their shared experiences, to the kindness in their eyes as they lifted each other up, the melody of their laughter and the bravery in their voices as they spoke of injustices they'd lived. It was fascinating, really.

What Dream was truly surprised to find was that people had, after all, an understanding of self that went beyond just physical. Hob brought him closer to a group of kids who were in a long discussion on gender identity. Some of them felt comfortable with the gender they'd been "assigned with at birth", others did not feel any affinity for it. Some of them had changed their bodies to fit with how they felt on the inside, and Dream couldn't help but feel enormous empathy for them, for the way they had to fight to exist in a body that didn't feel like a trap. It was something Dream always took for granted, until he himself felt the horror of having no agency over himself. The pain they went through to guarantee they'd have the right to live authentically. Dream's body had never been limited to an exclusive physical manifestation; he was as he felt like. Fluid , as one of the bright colour haired people had pointed out while explaining their own experience. They reminded Dream of his own sibling, Desire. Someone else brought up how they didn't particularly feel like they had a gender, and that the language surrounding it didn't particularly bother them. Agender, the girl said proudly. Dream wondered if there was any right or wrong way to declare oneself fluid or agender. Then he realised the tightness in his chest when the thought occurred to him.

"Are you alright?" Once again, Hob's voice brought him back to the Waking. Dream could now feel Hob's hand on his own again, but he wasn't sure what exactly had warranted it.

"Your hands were shaking."

Once again, Dream's physical form betrayed him. It was also clear how the conversation surrounding them had gone quiet, and more eyes than he would have liked had landed on their linked hands. He didn't like being watched. Like that.

"Oh, Mr. G, is this your boyfriend?" one of them asked, teasingly. "Would have never guessed you had a thing for goths!"

"Marissa, stop!" someone else said, poking the girl on the shoulder apprehensively. The next thing they said was soft as a whisper. "They are clearly not feeling well."

They.

Dream had never considered himself as they. But this person, whoever they were, preferred "not to assume" his gender. And the empathy displayed for his discomfort was something he wasn't expecting either. Hob seemed to be about to say something, but Dream was quicker.

"There is no need to worry for my well-being, but I thank you for your kindness." Dream allowed himself to smile once again. These children were going places, he knew it. "You may address me as he , if necessary. I would not oppose her or them either." It felt liberating to say it, and Dream didn't really know why. He did know, however, that he suddenly felt brave. "I am not Professor Gadlen's boyfriend , but I am honoured to call him my dearest, most cherished friend."

Dream looked at Hob, who seemed to be awestruck by his words. It was amusing to see him like that, and it lit something else inside him. This meeting was making Dream experience a range of feelings he'd forgotten about. He showed Hob a smile, and Hob smiled back at him, warm and gentle as ever. Their hands were still linked together. Dream had no intention of letting go. "Ah, yes. This little prick here is indeed my dearest, oldest friend. I did want them to meet you guys. I'm glad I was right about it."

When Hob said it, it made Dream's heart sing.

"...so you're fuckbuddies?"

" Marissa! "

————

After a few hours and many, many rounds of different conversations, Hob gathered the group once again, thanking them for coming and congratulating everyone on the success of their first meeting. Dream couldn't help but notice how Hob seemed unable to stop smiling. He could feel the pride and relief radiating off of his tanned skin and kind eyes. Dream wished he could have it all directed at himself, that gentleness.

Hob's boyfriend. Now that would be something.

Dream sat on the booth table behind the bar where he and Hob usually held their meetings and waited for everyone to leave. He wanted some time alone with Hob, even if just to hear what his beloved friend had to say about what he thought of the meeting, just to hear Hob's voice, the only music suited for Dream's ears.

He also had so many new feelings inside himself to explore. Those he could tend to later.

"Hey there, handsome stranger." Hob said as he sat across from Dream on the table, taking Dream's hand in his as if it was just the way they always did things. Maybe it could be. It wouldn't hurt (too much) to hope, would it? "Come here often?"

"Only when I'm in search of an epiphany." Dream couldn't bother to hide the fondness in his own voice, nor the relief he felt to have Hob's hand cradling his own again. "I am impressed, Professor Gadlen. You have gathered a group of exceptionally bright minds. It gives me hope for a better future for humanity."

"Wow Dream, that is… that is really high praise, especially coming from you." Hob seemed flushed, and Dream wondered what else he could do to cause that reaction, to see Hob shy and pretty like that again and again. "I learned a long time ago that I have to build the future I want to live in. But in all honesty… I'm more interested in the present right now."

"Oh, is that so?" Hob's optimism was infectious, it seemed. Dream too could only focus on the present moment. "I am glad to be able to share it with you."

There was a short silence shared between them after that. It was as if neither of them were ready to say whatever it was they clearly needed. Dream tried to take comfort in the feeling of Hob's hand in his, rubbing the back of Hob's hand with his thumb.

His mistake was looking up to meet Hob's eyes.

"There is much I have learned today." Dream decided he'd be the one to break the silence. He'd be the one to take the leap, because he knew Hob had made sure he'd make a safe landing. He knew that no matter what happened, no matter how much he could get hurt, he was safe. He could trust Hob with his heart, even if there was a chance that he would break it. "I often make the mistake of thinking there is nothing more to my existence than what I have already discovered. I contain all conscious minds throughout the universe, their lives, hopes and dreams. Yet, I forget that the tales of others cannot substitute one's own experience, only enlighten it."

Hob listened to Dream's words attentively. He looked anxious, but would not interrupt. Dream knew he wouldn't. He knew how much Hob cherished the moments where Dream felt ready to share something new. "Today, you have once more shown me there is much I have to learn. For that, I am grateful, Hob Gadling.”

How could Dream not fall in love with someone that treated him like he was the moon? How could the moon not love the sun?

"I'm grateful for you too, you know. The kids loved you. I'm sure I'll be getting asked about you for the rest of the semester. Maybe even longer." Hob's eyes were so fond it made Dream want to cry.

"And how would you like to answer their inquiries?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you like to tell them of your dearest, oldest friend…" Dream leaned in, bringing Hob's hand to his own cheek. He pressed a soft kiss to Hob's palm, and watched as Hob's eyes followed his every move. There was no turning back from this. "...or would you prefer to tell them about your lover, Hob?"

For a moment, time stopped. Their eyes met, and before Dream could get anxious or regret his words, Hob was already standing and leaning over the table, locking their lips together.

Dream thought he'd heard the sound of people cheering outside one of the windows of the New Inn. Hob would certainly be getting many questions from his students come next monday.

#virgo dream writes #dreamling #the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #hob gadling #dream x Hob #Morpheus x Hob #pride fic #dreamling fic #the sandman fic #remember when I used to write?

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spectrum-core · 2 months

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STEPHCLAIR IS BAD AND YOU SHOULD FEEL BAD

Alternative title: a very angry (and tired) Full Stop fan's thesis.

ok, so me being the stephan/sinclair comparison's strongest hater is a bit i really like to lean into, but for the sake of keeping things semi-serious i will try to keep the actual essay content as free of me ranting my frustrations as humanly possible (which i mean commitement to the bit aside this will be hard bc it is frustrating to see people calling them both the same character, at best it shows a very surface level understanding of either character and at worst it shows just reducing them to cookie cutter meme fandom archetypes neither character actually fits into, so bear with me if i slip up and make unserious comments from time to time)

so before i start the actual essay let me say this: this essay doesnt even scratch the surface of how much i hate this comparison you guys cant even possibly fucking imagine ive been obssessed and i mean OBSSESSED with the full stop office since 2021 and im glad i wasnt in the limbus prerelease fanbase because if i had to see people comparing my beautiful boy and beloved best friend to a guy we had no info about other than "hes based of the guy from demian" i would have turned into the joker this is not even about saving my own mental health this is about sparing the entire pjm fandom of the monster i would have turned into

spoilers for ruina and limbus, universe terminology heavy and surface level references and interpretations of demian by herman hesse because imma keep it real with you guys the first and only time i read that book i was still in high school and i barely remember shit.

Table of contents:

Stephan - a summary

Sinclair - a summary 2.1. Emil Sinclair in Demian (1919) 2.2. Emil Sinclair in Limbus Company (2023)

Addressing common arguments

1.- Stephan - a summary

And of course I will start with Stephan, because I love him very much, just like Liwei he's one of my favorite pjm characters (yeah i like him more than your favorite popular character don't ask) so it's not surprising that i have A Lot to say about him, right?

And of course, I do.

As I said in the serrated duo post, a core part of my perception of the Full Stop office depends on the fact that they are poor. Mentions of money are common all across many factions in the game, yes, but the Full Stops are extremely constant about money, how taking a wrong turn means losing more than they can afford, how they can't afford to drop their weapons because they were too expensive, how even getting the permissions to be able to buy and wield these weapons was ridiculously expensive and so on. Of course, Stephan is the one talking about this the most (something I will elaborate on later), but Liwei and Tamaki also make a few ocassional mentions to it in their dialogue and keypages and considering this is a shared business it just makes sense that this is something that affects all of them.

These are just some few of the callbacks to money that Stephan alone does in his dialogue, without focusing in keypage text or what Liwei and Tamaki have to say about it.

And idk man, at least to me the difference between social classes is an important aspect for their characterization, specially because of how constant the concern with money is for Stephan. From this point alone comparing them feels like erasing a core aspect of Stephan's characterization, a lot about Stephan (and the Full Stop office as a whole, let's be real here) starts making more sense once you read the office as lower-middle class (and I'm saying lower middle class because they can afford some place to live and their weapons, but to me these guys are the types who precisely because of their need to keep bullets at all times can't pay for water or electricity all the time and sometimes they simply can't afford food or if they do they can spend a week straight eating nothing but unsalted pasta).

Now, going back to Stephan being the most outward about his complaints with money, he is in general the most outward about all problems the office is facing, to the point in which he doesn't mind inconveniencing everyone else with his rants, being one of the few guests who interrupt Angela's introductory speech and getting into Tamaki's nerves (something he's well aware he's doing, as these two know each other) at least two times through the course of their pre-battle cutscene, even Roland comments after the reception on how he wishes he would always have been as open about his problems as Stephan was.

However, it's worth nothing that he doesn't spend the entire cutscene crying about his miseries, and he only starts losing hope at three key moments: when they can't kill Eileen inmediately (making them waste more bullets than needed), when Argalia shows up (forcing them to retreat and making them fail their mission, meaning they won't get paid for this after they already lost a ton of money, as well as turning the situation into something much more dangerous than what they had signed up for) and once they enter the Library (an Urban Plague grade threat they have little to no information about, when him and Tamaki are almost out of bullets so Liwei is essentially the only fixer with some chance of putting up a fight and, you know, making it out alive).

Now, while it's true that Stephan is someone who dislikes danger, he isn't someone who isn't used to seeing gruesome events, his instinctive reaction to seeing a guy getting his head put into a meat grinder was cracking jokes and calling the concept of thought gears "a load of horseshit", which is something that falls in line with him being a somewhat experienced Fixer (sure, grade 5 isn't amazing but we can assume it's still either in the higher side of average or barely above average, and for someone specialized in firearms, which are far from the best weapon in the city, getting that high means he must have some experience and skill, right? more so considering he's been at this for 5 years at most) who has seen a fair share of horrid shit and can be unfazed by (most of) it as long as his own safety isn't on the line.

Another point is... he dislikes danger and is always wary about money and expenses, to the point in which he enjoys checking his bank account (or at least he believes so, if we go for the theory of the artbook profiles being more a mix of what the characters perceive themseves as/would describe themselves as to others, which is a theory i go by, I see him as someone who's convinced he does that for fun instead as out of desperation), but this seems to be more a generalized feeling of impending doom at everything rather than something that can be traced back to a particular traumatic event (anything can be dangerous, anything can cost him money), dude's from the backstreets after all, he's seen shit and he's used to assuming the worst. How I see Stephan, he's a guy who already expects bad things to happen but once things go wrong he starts freaking out about how this time They're Screwed For Real, but he never really tricks himself into believing "maybe things will turn out just fine this time?" or who thinks "well, we've done this before, surely we can handle it again."

This is not very related to Stephan as a character in terms of personality but I think it's still an important point to make as it is particularly related to body mods, his physical condition and his body shape.

So we can easily say that Stephan is a strong dude, at least if compared to real world standards without the fancy and insane body mods we see people in the city have access to. He carries that huge rifle around with his bare hands, something that Tamaki doesn't do and that not even Stephan himself in earlier iterations of his dessign did, and his main talent (which based of my theories is something that can be assumed as "something he's proud enough of to consider it the thing he does best") is physical labor.

Pictured, Tamaki's talksprite, carrying a rifle almost as long as she is tall with a strap supporting the weight on her shoulders, like a normal person.

Also pictured, an earlier iteration of Stephan's dessign, carrying the same rifle his current version does, but also holding it with the help of a similar strap supporting the weight on his shoulders.

And finally, Stephan's current dessign, holding that shit with his bare fucking hands in an exhibition of his brute animal strength, what the fuck is wrong with this man (affectionate)

And Stephan's artbook profile, the important part here is his speciality being physical labor, not only he's strong but he aknowledges this.

However, I made a point about the Full Stop office being poor, right? Even Roland says that "giving a whole office augmentation procedures is cheaper than keeping a decent supply of bullets in stock" (not the exact phrasing).

At least personally, I see this as Roland essentially saying "it would be cheaper (and more efficient) to get body mods for everyone in the office and buy another (cheaper) type of weaponry instead", but as things stand, the Full Stops can afford to either buy more ammunition and maintain their weapons, OR to get body mods, and since their whole deal is firearms... well, they can't really Stop investing in them, meaning they have no body mods At All and they got their grades purely out of their own physical strength.

Similarly, Stephan makes a similar point about how body augmentations are required for people to be able to run while carrying their weapons around (specifically talking about the rifles he and Tamaki use).

And... you know, the whole point is that they couldn't run carrying their weapons because they were too heavy, Argalia mocked them for that, Liwei urged them to drop their weapons, something they refused to do because of the prices.

Lastly on this point, while it's true that Ruina talksprites have a very bad case of Long Anime Legs (to the point in which how Roland's legs take about 2/3 of his height is a common joke), if we focus only on his head and torso, Stephan looks pretty Wide, and not only because he's wearing thick, fluffy and multilayered clothing, as other characters wearing similar clothing styles still look thinner than him.

This is all to say: I don't think this guy is a twink, or thin at all. He's a prime example of the strongman build to me and this is yet another hill I'm willing to die on watch project moon turn him into a beanpole once he inevitably shows up in limbus and me turning into the first real world distortion as a consequence.

Finally, Stephan is very notoriously the most informal member of the office, not only being the only one who doesn't wear any sort of formal clothing fully prioritizing comfort and practicality over looks but also completely disregarding formalities with his attitude at work (again, he interrupts Angela's introductory monologue, and again, his first two lines when being introduced are him cracking jokes), being the only member of the office to swear on screen and using several informal expressions and metaphors through both the reception dialogue and his keypage story.

And for good measure, he's a compilation of Stephan being the creature he is.

The literal introduction of the characters, also known as the moment in which Stephan became one of my favorite characters because he's Just Like Me Fr

Very normal behavior for someone who hates blood and violence and isn't used to seeing it. This man is more than capable (and willing, assuming money is involved) to murder kill.

Which, I mean, this attitude is very different from what we see from Sinclair.

2.- Sinclair, a summary

In retrospect I probably should have made this one first because I'm gonna be honest with you, Sinclair is one of the sinners I care about the least (I still like him and think he's pretty cool mind you I just don't vibe too much with most of the tropes making up the character) so what I have to say about him is less me grasping for straws and subtext because I don't care enough about him to be bothered with a super serious and in depth analysis like I did with Stephan and more things we can explicitly see about him in game and things that happen in the novel Demian.

And if I can have a small parenthesis here, people saying that one of my favorite pjm guys Ever is in any way similar to a guy who despite being pretty cool is just Not the type of character I fully vibe with... really, it gets annoying fast. Anyway back to the serious analysis now.

2.1- Emil Sinclair in Demian (1919)

To be able to understand Sinclair as he is depicted in Limbus Company, it is important to first be familiar with the source material of the original iteration of the character, that's it we're doing your high school homework by compiling several literary analysis of a symbolic psychological early 20th century autobiographical novel i hope you guys signed up for this (and if you didn't, though luck! i will do this anyway, I love literary analysis).

In the novel, young Emil finds himself torn between the worlds of light (which can be equated to the Garden of Eden, but it's more tangible meaning for our protagonist is his childhood home and family, a serene and well structure/organized space where he can be innocent, untainted by the evils of the outside world) and darkness (basically all the scary shit that goes on outside, where people do evil things for the sake of it), he finds himself tempted by the violence of the outside world, particularly through the actions of his classmate Franz Kromer, which eventually leads him to consider that due to being exposed to this tainted world of evil he no longer can return to the world of good and innocence.

Here, the character of Demian acts as a guide, someone who helps Sinclair to trascend this binary perception of good vs evil and to see himself as someone worthy of happiness because him witnessing the world of evil didn't taint him as a person but rather merely showed him another face of the world, Demian here mentions the Mark of Cain as a symbol of mental strenght and freedom, considering that bearers of this mark are capable of making their own choices and should be able to go beyond their assigned roles, being able to embody aspects of both worlds. This is to say that Demian's view is less focused on good vs evil, instead taking a more order vs chaos approach (without giving an explicit moral character to either).

In the book, the symbol of a bird breaking out of the egg is frequently used to represent Emil's personal growth, the egg represents safety and innocence, but a bird must eventually leave the egg or it will die, and getting out of the egg is a process than can be seen as violent, as a bird must fight to get out of the egg, and getting out of the egg represents birth but also an irreversible change, it can be seen as breaking out of the world of light and getting permanently in the world of darkness since a broken shell can't be fixed, but it can also mean achieving the enlightment and personal balance to not feel permanently bound to a condition, place or state of being and therefore growing as a person by learning to see himself as a whole human instead of supressing his "evil side" by only forcing the "good side" to surface.

Max Demian is here to show this second meaning of growth/self improvement (while also explaining that Sinclair is permamently growing and must always keep this balance between all the parts conforming the whole being that is himself rather that trying to make parts of himself antagonize each other). This idea of personal growth being one of the core themes of the book.

2.2- Emil Sinclair in Limbus Company (2023)

With Sinclair's source media analyzed (at a very surface level, mind you), we now can start talking about the depiction of Sinclair in Limbus Company, how it parallels the book, why the book symbolism is important for this instance of Sinclair and so on.

When we are first introduced to Sinclair in the game he's clearly nervous, he doesn't know what he's supposed to do as he hasn't worked for a similar company before and he isn't used to the gruesome sight of the bus eating people, this does fit inmediately in the motif of a naive person with limited experience about the world (well, to be fair to him most people won't be seeing man-eating buses at a regular basis, but the average backstreets dweller would be familiar with equally violent situations).

With this said, despite Sinclair's obviously nervous behavior... he isn't really a pessimist like Stephan was, in fact, almost every chapter (counting cantos, intervallos and the short mini chapters such as the Dante's notes update episode) have at least one key moment with him trying to rationalize horrible stuff as something much less violent, or simply going "but I thought this thing didn't work like this..." when confronted with the more horrible realities in the city. He thought the G corp veterans were really going to let them pass without a fight, he thought the people being controlled by headhens were just actors wearing mascot costumes, he thought mermaids were the beautiful half-woman half-fish creatures he heard about in fairy tales, and there's more examples but I don't really feel like looking for The Entire Fucking Plot Because This Guy Is An Actual Protagonist Instead Of A Background Guy Like Stephan Was to make my point clearer than it already is. And it's only when he realizes that the real world doesn't fit his expectations that he panics.

Well, there is one exception to this pattern: his own canto. Here, he panics inmediately as soon as K corp's nest is mentioned and spends the first half of the chapter pleading to turn back while saying that they are going to get killed. So what is different here with the rest of the plot?

Obviously, the fact that is related to his very own very personal very specific trauma. That is to say, unlike Stephan who is wary of anything that can put him on danger or cost him more money than it should, Sinclair has a very specific traumatic event that makes him act Like That (sure, he gets scared and nervous outside that, but these are more normal "I'm unfamiliar with this and I don't fully know how to react, this is normal behavior in a human being" reactions than outright "I am Actually Terrified due to being reminded of an actual traumatic event, this reaction is a textbook definition of post-traumatic stress disorder").

HOWEVER, Sinclair being someone who's deeply traumatized and kind of a scaredy cat when it comes to violence and unfamiliar situations... it doesn't mean that he's incompetent or a bad fighter. Almost all of his identities are terrifyingly good fighters (at least in their lore), Los Mariachis fear jefe Sinclair, Cinq director Sinclair is someone most association members are terrified to duel even during training, Blade Lineage Sinclair is considered a talented killer (it's also worth noting that save maybe for the mariachi one, in none of these mirror worlds Sinclair is precisely happy of being recognized as "the guy who's very scary when he fights people", unlike Stephan who I don't think he particularly likes killing but has a more "as long as I get paid..." mentality about it), the only "not very good at this" Sinclair id I can think of is the molar boatworks id where he's more a mechanic than a fighter so he fears he's lagging behind in that aspect. Hell, even the Canon Timeline so to speak (which is to say: his base identity) has him carrying that huge halberd, going on a frenzy attacking some already mutilated inquisitor's corpse, piercing through Guido's armor and dealing a fatal blow that finally killed him for real. To compare, Stephan is good at physical work, but we don't know about his close combat capacities other than the fact that he dislikes it, for Sinclair however we know he's terrifyingly good at physical combat.

Now, I've seen a lot of people call Sinclair a twink and while it's one of these words that nobody agrees on what it means, let's give it the benefit of doubt and say "alright, for the duration of this analysis let's settle on a twink being a young looking (regardless of actual age), thin man with almost no facial/body hair".

Since Sinclair is a rich guy (not just Any Rich Guy though, we're talking of someone whose family had ties to a Wing, probably not some elite guy like Daniel or Hong Lu, but not a self perceived "mediocre" nest dweller like Samjo either), and pressumably not very experienced in combat in most mirror worlds (we know he has no prior experience in the base one where he joined Limbus, at least), let's say that he has enough body mods for him to be much stronger than he looks like despite being thin, he does look thin and young and much to my dissapointment he also has no facial hair, so yeah, under this very broad definition of the term he is a twink.

However if you start adding personality archetypes to the definition he stops being one almost inmediately, as we've been shown time after time that his "submissive" attitude is mostly a result of him not knowing too well how to impose himself and just going along with what the rest say or do, but he's starting to grow tired of that ever since Hell's Chicken (even if he clearly still isn't great at that), as it should be more than obvious for anyone who even just googled "demian herman hesse literary analysis", Sinclair is undergoing a lot of changes even now, and the game is doing a good job at portraying that.

Honestly I also think he'd be hotter with a sleeper build but really, I don't care enough about him to argue about that.

And for the last point, precisely due to his upbringing as a rich guy AND his traumatic experience with Kromer, Sinclair is not only a very polite and mild mannered guy (again, unlike resident creature Stephan), but also he tries to take as little space as possible, both literally and metaphorically, as Dante notices near the end of canto 3 when they finally comment on how Sinclair never talks about his own problems until it's too late because he doesn't want to bother the others as they probably have it worse (again, unlike Stephan "i don't mind loweing team morale and making everyone in the room uncomfortable as long as i get to vent" Full Stop office).

3.- Adressing common arguments

Alright, now that I talked about each character, let's see some of the most common arguments I've seen people use to compare them.

"They look the same!" No, they don't. The only thing they have in common is being blonde but even their hairstyles are different with Sinclair having a simple bowl-ish cut with slightly wavy hair and Stephan having curlier hair (not to mention the whole point I made about body types because I'm the sort of lunatic who cares about that stuff). I won't even bother with this argument.

"They have the same personalities!" Again, they don't. Stephan is very cynical with a lot of his attitude being clearly derivated from him coming from a poor background and having stayed there his whole life, he also doesn't care about his cynism getting in the way and bothering everyone else. On the other hand, Sinclair is someone who could almost be described as naive due to having lived a sheltered childhood and only having his experiences with Kromer and his time at Limbus as moments of realizing that the rest of the world is Not Like His Childhood House, still believing that the world is a binary of good vs evil and expecting things to turn out fine or be much better than they actually are, just to be hit with the reality of the city Not being a nice place where people are nice and polite and not trying to kill him, this is not to say he doesn't have his own issues but even Dante notices during his Canto that Sinclair makes a point to avoid bothering everyone else with his personal problems, keeping them to himself even if that makes things worse on the long run.

"Both are opposed and harmed by a lunatic!" This is an argument I've seen a lot and is incredibly filmsy at best, half of the city's population are lunatics and the other half are people who got opposed by them some way or another. Will you say that Ishmael and the rest of the Pequod crew can be compared to the Full Stop office (or really, even mention the other Full Stop fixers instead of just focusing on Stephan because he happens to be blonde and can be compared to Sinclair) because of their situations with Ahab? Or the W Corp crew who got their train targetted by Jae-heon and Elena (or, you know, the train passengers who were turned into Love townspeople or puppets)? What about the Vermillion Cross who got killed by the Reverb Ensemble? Or the Cane office fixers? or the Zwei association section 6 who got beaten to death by Gyeong-mi just because he felt like doing so? Or the Liu association section 1 who had to deal with Argalia taking Philip away? Or the Kurokumo clan members when they were attacked by Tanya? You aren't comparing them to either Stephan or Sinclair, right? Not to mention that in her weird and fucked up perception of things, Kromer was less opposed to Sinclair as she was trying to lead him to join her and her cause, even the last things she says before getting killed are her calling him to follow her.

"Both are compared to birds!" Oh, right, because I forgot that a very directed symbolic comparison to a baby bird breaking out of it's shell as a symbol of rebirth, learning about the nuances of the world and self improvement/liberation that is consistently used in the source material Sinclair comes from is exactly the same as one (1) throwaway line the big bad guy uses to mock not only Stephan but the whole Full Stop gang, right. And if you want to say "but Tamaki compares him to a bird once too", yeah she calls him a parrot because he keeps repeating the same complaints over and over, it's still not the same as a consistent metaphor.

"Both are sad blonde twinks! They're essentially the same guy." Sad? Yeah, everyone in the city is sad but their ways to be sad are polar opposites, and neither of them is the pure cinnamon roll uwu crybaby archetype people tend to lump both into, Stephan was merely having a bad day and people decided to make that his whole personality (when honestly we get more insight on his actual personality before Argalia shows up, when he's making sarcastic remarks and getting impatient because they weren't starting killing people fast enough) but he's still perfectly capable (and willing) to murder people, and Sinclair is just... someone who lacks experience about the real world and how it works and has a tendency to get nervous because of this, but he can adapt quickly to situations once he understands them. Blonde? Yeah, but I guess if that's a point to draw a comparison then we should also compare them to Don Quixote, the Tiphereths, Lenny, Yun, Lulu, Olga, every single npc, librarian, and agent who comes with blonde hair from the generator... Twinks? Stephan absolutely isn't one, Sinclair depends on how you define twink as nobody seems to get to an agreement with that, if you define it as merely "young looking thin man with almost no visible body hair" then yeah he is one, but if you go for any more specific definition than that he stops fitting into the definition almost instantly.

In conclusion: if I see anyone else comparing them I'll start blocking people liberally bc I'm sick of seeing that shit (I do that already tbh but just so you know), now scram

#pjm #library of ruina #limbus company #.🔫#this full stop office shit gets serious #probab ly not exhaustive but ive had this sitting on my drafts for way too long so i needed to post it so people understand how much i Hate #that godforsaken comparison

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itsjaywalkers · 27 days

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babe i miss ur rants like crazy so if u have any rant that needs to be indulged this is me indulging u <3333

this actually made me so soft.. i didn't know there was someone who enjoyed my rants so much.. i always feel kinda annoying.. i'm giving u the biggest forehead kiss in the world nonnie YOU'RE THE BEST

this being said . well

lately i've been thinking a lot about this band au i don't know if i'll ever write or if it'll just stay in my head, bc when i first started reading fanfiction i was OBSESSED with band aus and even tho i'm not that into them anymore . they make me feel very nostalgic and happy so i was like u know what . i should come up with my own. AND THAT'S WHAT I DID!!

anyways it's a dual pov, james and lily's!! they used to date, and since james is the lead singer in a very popular band, they were the it couple back then, everyone was fucking obsessed with them, said they were Perfect, peak romance, they wanted what they had etc etc. lily even sang with him sometimes when the band went on tour, bc she has a beautiful voice and all the fans kept pushing for her to join the band and sing all the ballads with james etc

but then . all of a sudden . she disappeared . not literally, you know, she just fucking ran away, without telling a single soul. she didn't even leave a letter to james, or maybe remus, who was one of her best friends. james was devastated, the band was devastated, the whole world was devastated. they went on hiatus for a lil before coming back with a very different vibe and since then . well . no one talks about lily evans . reporters try to bring her up every now and again bc they're nosy fuckers but james goes all stiff and his replies become stilted (even if still perfectly professional)

flashforward to . when the story actually starts . a new band has just debuted and it's rising to fame concernigly quick and james remus sirius and peter are going Crazy bc they feel a bit threatened and also oh would u look at that?? if it isn't sirius' estranged brother in the flesh!! playing the drums for this stupid band who's trying to compete with them!!

and if that wasn't enough !! lily finally returns to their lives............... she's also making a debut but as a soloist.............. and she's very Different from the lily they remember................... her songs are loud and aggressive and filled with resentment and very obviously about james and their relationship and james' friends. she's mean and bold and witty and everyone is Wondering if there was more to her disappearance than what they thought

it'll be jegulus and bartylily <3 and one of the reasons why idk if i'll ever write it it's bc one of the reasons why lily left is that she got pregnant and she didn't want it so she aborted and . we all know how this fandom gets about lily and motherhood lmao

anyways one of the scenes that's been plaguing my mind is this one that happens after lily and barty have started sleeping together and spending more and more time in each other's presence!! they're in barty's flat and barty wakes up at some point in the middle of the night just to discover he's alone in bed. so he wakes up and finds lily sitting at the kitchen table, notebook open, pen in hand and humming under her breath. he hugs her from behind and sees she's writing something new and they talk a lil, bicker some and tease even more, and then barty tells her she should write a song about him and stop dissing that stupid ex bf of hers bc it's getting old. lily laughs and asks him if he wants a cheesy love song and barty cackles and shakes his head and says that he'd rather have one of her dissing songs, bc they're fun and likes it when she gets all mean. besides, the press wouldn't believe her if she wrote something nice or sweet about him bc barty is always getting into scandal after scandal

lily does end up writing a song about barty, dissing him (affectionately except ppl don't know that) and when she first performs it live, she does so while just wearing one of barty's shirts and barty laughs the whole time while sporting the biggest heart eyes known to mankind

#asks #anons #bartylily

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buckys-wintersoldier · 1 month

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‘Til the end of the line | Stucky

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> WinterSoldier!Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> After another sleepless night and some stories about Steve and Bucky, they find him and Bucky can confess the feelings he has for Steve.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 2012

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> (T) violence, mention of brainwashing

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 10 Years Anniversary CA:TWS | April 4 | Theme: ‘Til the end of the line | Helicarrier, 1940’s, Reunion, “Schoolyard and battlefield”, Favourite Stucky scene | @catws-anniversary

Masterlist | Stucky Masterlist

Bucky turns around in his bed, throwing his head from one side to the other. His breathing is heavy, and when a sudden scream leaves his lips, he immediately wakes up. Tears are burning in his eyes, slowly falling down his cheeks, his chest raising and falling fast, and his muscles tensing while he looks around. Sweat is covering his body, and he sits up, listening to the sound of his dog tags touching one another. A sound that calms him down slowly. He rarely has a night where he isn’t waking up himself, screaming, and crying because of another nightmare. Bucky’s hand slides to the side, touching the cool floor, and he sighs softly. He knows he is at home; he is at the Avengers compound. A soft knock on his door, and the door opens quietly. Bucky’s gaze snaps towards the door.

“Bucky? You’re fine?” Natasha asks, looking through the now-open door of his room.

His eyes are still red, and trails of tears cover his face, but he nods softly. Bucky inhales deeply, sliding his fingers through his hair. He tries to smile at her to ensure he is oke but Natasha walks into the room, claiming the door then and walking closer to the soldier. She smiles, encouraging him, knowing Bucky is embarrassed of himself for screaming and crying in his sleep once again. She lets herself take a seat next to him on the ground; her hand makes its way to his bare back, and she draws small circles on it.

When she did that the first time after Bucky saw Steve on the bridge a while ago and him not recognizing Bucky, she sat next to him as well, waiting until Bucky told her about the nightmares he has, and he said sorry a lot. He felt bad for waking her up because he had a nightmare. Natasha made sure that she did it because they are friends and because she knew it’s not easy to see someone he knows so well, someone he loves, who acted like he didn’t know Bucky anymore. The sweat never stopped her from touching him because she knows he needs it; he needs someone who is there and someone he can be closer to so he won’t feel alone anymore. And since then, she often spends the night with Bucky; they talk, sometimes she just helps him to calm down, and then they both sleep. They are friends, good friends, and even though they are so close, both of them have no other feelings than best friends have for each other.

“We will find Steve, and he will remember. Do you wanna have some hot chocolate too?” She asks, knowing that Bucky loves them just as much as she does.

“With whipped cream and marshmallows,” Bucky says, chucking softly. “Let me take a shower first.”

Bucky got up from the floor, reaching for Nat’s hand and pulling her up as well. He then takes some clothes, walking toward the bathroom while Natasha walks to the door, which leads into the floor. She just opens it, facing Bucky and smirking playfully.

Don’t take too long, old man. Otherwise, the chocolate will be cold.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and walks into the bathroom, hearing Natasha laughing. Then he takes off his boxers and gets into the shower. The hot water relaxes his tensing muscles; the scent of the shampoo he uses makes him sigh softly; and he enjoys the hot water running down his body. He washes the sweat off his body, letting the hot water fall down on his body a while longer before he gets out of the shower and drys himself. Bucky rubs his long brown hair dry and then wraps the towel around his waist. He always feels better when he has a nice, hot shower. After doing everything in the bathroom, including taking on his fresh clothes, he makes his way out of his room and into the kitchen, where Natasha is already waiting for him. He inhales the sweet scent of the hot chocolate and the marshmallows in the room, smiling softly.

“Smells delicious as always when you make that hot chocolate.”

When Bucky reaches his best friend, she hands him a cup of hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows. Then they both walk to the couch, letting themselves fall down on it and making it comfortable. Bucky hums when he tastes the chocolate, causing Natasha to laugh.

“Do you want to tell me more about you and Steve from the 40’s?” She asks softly, so he doesn’t have the feeling that she puts him under pressure.

Bucky thinks for a moment; she already knows a bit about them both, but there are some more things he hasn’t told her yet. There are some funny things he really wants to tell her. So he does exactly that, with a smirk he licks with his tongue over his lips.

“There was the event; it was supposed to show things that will be created in the future. Even though the flying cars aren’t working yet. But before we went there, Steve was in the cinema, and I think he loved to get punched. He told the boy, who was stronger and taller than Steve, to be quiet because he wanted to watch the movie. They went outside into the alley next to the cinema. You should have seen little Steve lifting his fists and jumping up and down in front of the guy who was almost two Steve’s big,” Bucky says, laughing when he remembers the small Steve jumping up and down to punch the boy in front of him. “And then the guy punched him, and Steve got up and told him he could do that all day. But the way he jumped up and down like a bouncing ball was really cute.”

Natasha laughs so hard that she almost spills her chocolate on Bucky. Bucky takes a sip of his chocolate before he has another funny story in mind, which he tells her.

“During that show, Steve went to something like a museum. There was a picture of a soldier, and when you were standing in front of it, you saw your face as that of the soldier. But Steve was too small, so he wasn’t able to see his face there. It was pretty cute. Later, we went to war, and the people always said ‘schoolyard and battlefield, and we were always there together. First with sticks, then with uniforms.’”

They both chuckle softly, and after a while and a few more stories of Steve and Bucky, Sam walks with Fury into the room.

“Steve, you know me. You know me your whole life,” Buck says, looking at his best friend.

“I don’t know you.”

The cold eyes and the coldness in his voice lets Bucky shiver. Steve still looks confused at Bucky, but at the same time, he looks like he remembers his best friend. The man he used to love in their 40’s, the man who protected him until Steve got imprisoned by Hydra after he turned into “Captain America” which turned out to be an experiment Hydra did. He wasn’t Captain America; they just told him, so they got him into the ‘Winter Soldier program’. But since Bucky said his name and he kind of remembered the other man, he is even more confused. Who is he? Where is the other man?

“Your name is Steven Grant Rogers,” Bucky says.

“Shut up!” Steve shouts, overwhelmed by his emotions.

The brown-haired man looks so familiar, but as much as Steve tries, he doesn’t get the things together to get to know where he knows the other man. He told the Agents of Hydra that there was a man on the bridge, someone he knew. But the agents didn't pay attention; they brainwashed him to make sure he did his job and didn't get distracted during his missions. Steve’s eyes slide from Bucky to his shield and back at Bucky, then he punches him, and the brown-haired man staggers back but gets his balance back and looks at Steve.

“I’m not gonna fight you. You’re my friend,” Bucky explains, letting the weapon he holds in his hand fall down.

'Actually, you’re more than a friend to me,’ he thinks, but doesn’t say that just yet. His breathing is heavy, and the sweat is running down his skin. Steve is breathing just as heavily as Bucky, his jaw clenched, and he holds his shield tightly in his hand, pressed against his body. The moment the weapon falls through a hole in the helicarrier, Steve walks closer to Bucky, throwing his shield in the direction of his best friend and hitting him. Bucky walks a few steps backwards before he falls down, and Steve uses the moment to throw himself on top of him.

“You’re my mission.”

Steve’s fist meets Bucky’s face harshly, blood flowing out of his nose, but he doesn’t do anything to get his best friend off of him. He knows Steve doesn’t remember him; he knows that Steve is brainwashed.

The helicarrier around them slowly breaks into pieces. Steve is still on top of Bucky, punching his best friend over and over again.

“You. -punch- Are. -punch- My. -punch- Mission.”

Steve breathes heavily; his chest is falling and raising fast, while he looks down and into the ocean-blue eyes of his best friend.

“Then finish it, ‘cause I’m with you ‘til the end of the line,” Bucky says, waiting for Steve to punch him once again, but he doesn’t.

Steve’s eyes widen, and he remembers the man in front of you. The moment he said that sentence to Bucky when they were together in the Hydra base.

“Get out of here.”

"No, not without you- because I’m with you til the end of the line,” Steve shouts back.

The hand of Steve falls down; he is just about to get off of Bucky. Suddenly it cracks next to them, and in the next moment Bucky falls down, landing just a few moments later in the river.

“Bucky,” Steve mumbles.

Without hesitation, Steve jumps after Bucky, catching him and swimming with him in his tight grip out of the river. Bucky’s eyes are closed, and he seems unconscious. Steve lets himself fall down next to his best friend, his fingers running through his soft hair, while he admires the beauty of the brown-haired man.

“Buck,” he mumbles, lifting the head and shoulders of his friend off the ground and placing Bucky on his lap. “My Bucky.”

Slowly, the man wakes up, feeling warm but with wet legs underneath his body. He opens his eyes just a bit, seeing his best friend through his lashes.

“S-Steve?”

“Bucky, hey. Buck, it’s me. H-how are you?”

Bucky chuckles, looking at Steve and lifting his hand to caress Steve’s check.

“I’m good. I-i missed you. I never thought I’d see you again. But you’re here. Please don’t leave again, Stevie. I-I love you.”

“I won’t, Buck. I’m here, and I love you too. Do you want to be mine?” Steve mumbles, and Bucky nods euphorically.

He leans down until their lips meet; the kiss is soft, and they both move their lips carefully but with so much passion against each other. Bucky smirks softly, his hand sliding through the blond hair of Steve. And suddenly Steve’s feelings and memories are back; he knows all he ever felt for his best friend and all he still feels for him.

“But Bucky, they will look after me.”

“I will protect you, Stevie.”

“And we’re there for you too,” Natasha says behind them, smirking at Bucky, who has red cheeks and looks at his best friend.

Steve lets Bucky sit up. The brown-haired man leans closer and kisses Steve once again before they both get up.

“Let’s get some food first; I’m starving.”

“You’re always hungry, birdy,” Natasha and Bucky say at the same time.

Steve chuckles, wrapping his arm around his now-boyfriend’s waist and pulling him closer.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬.

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @sebastianstanisahotmf

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undercoverpena · 5 months

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my 2023 tumblr top 10

WARNING: I’m going to be mushy about my writing, and celebrate me, if this isn’t for you, scroll past. kindness only.

1. 2,541 notes - Nov 18 2023

BE GOOD, BE QUIET

joel miller x f!reader (tlou)

i’m so blown away by the love this fic got!! this silly idea of a storm, of joel, and here we are. it was the fingers in your mouth wasn’t it... i knew it.

2. 2,495 notes - Mar 27 2023

ABOUT SOMEONE, THAT ISN’T YOU

simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader (cod)

this was such a blast to write, and i still can’t believe a little whump fic from me did so well!! i will say one of my fave lines ever is this: He finds you in the centre of dust and debris.

3. 2,339 notes - Apr 23 2023

AREPAS

javier peña x f!reader (narcos)

my baby. the fic i’ve re-read the most. my beloved. i remember posting this after a mammoth 6 hour editing sessions of it because dyslexia, and then the relief. i went to sleep, woke up, and was like omfg.

4. 2,155 notes - Jul 31 2023

CAN YOU IMAGINE...

simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader (cod)

this was purely me being up far too late, and just being a mush, that then turned spicy. it should be expected now, but then, in july, it was all new for me.

5. 1,662 notes - Jun 9 2023

LATE NIGHT TEXTS SERIES

javier peña x f!reader (narcos)

arepas walked, so LNT could RUN. gosh. this fic. the last couple of days it has so much love too, and i’m so overwhelmed, and happy. but my fave thing about this, it all stemmed from a scene in my head of him picking her up from the airport, combined with the fact i was alone for a week, and here we are. one of my fave things i’ve ever written.

6. 1,634 notes - Feb 26 2023

TAKE ME TO YOURS

javier peña x f!reader (narcos)

stemmed from a prompt, this was meant to be a short thing that quickly got away from me. it was one of the first things i wrote for this man, and i still have so much love for it. the scene of him seeing her in the room, god....

7. 1,612 notes - Sep 17 2023

YOU SHOULD BE MY ONLY GIRL

joel miller x f!reader (tlou)

so this fic is a firm fave for me, because not only was it for my cheese ( @thetriumphantpanda ), but also i had the chance to have @perotovar ‘s work on my fic too. like still, i can’t believe how fortunate i am. i still love this one so freaking much. the stress of me worrying if it was good enough though, didn’t love that so much.

8. 1,564 notes - Jan 3 2023

DON’T

john price x f!reader (cod)

this was the most ridiculously brilliant thing, because i wrote it in a chat to my friend @guyfieriii and she was like POST THIS. and i did, and here we are. to this day, price is still someone i dont feel confident writing, but i will admit this was alright ;)

9. 1,484 notes - Jul 15 2023

CIRCLES AND SQUARES

simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader (cod)

sometimes, some of my best works are when i write them for people, and writing this for mothie was a joy. i also can’t believe how much ghost is in my top ten.

10. 1,357 notes - Aug 29 2023

HOME AND THE GHOST MUG

simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader (cod)

this might have been the last thing i wrote for cod before leaving the fandom entirely, and again, i was up far too late, moving a mug of my husband’s, and here is the product of it.

Created by TumblrTop10

#tumblrtop10 #jo's thoughts

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gravityglitch-blog · 3 days

Text

The Amazing Digital Circus, as seen by a Murder Drones fan

("Candy Carrier Chaos" inspired me to write this. Fair warning, it's a long one. Potential spoilers ahead)

I stumbled into the indie animation scene on YouTube by accident. It was like finding hidden treasure. I have no hate for the big-name studios, but everything I'd been seeing up until then seemed...homogenized...over-processed, somehow? It's hard to describe. Like eating fast food when you want a home cooked meal.

Now here were stories that were all wonderfully different, in subject matter and style. I started with "Lackadaisy", which was so beautiful, it left me stunned.

(The only reason you don't see more Lackadaisy fanart from me is because it's difficult drawing cats. I'm practicing, though.)

A few more clicks brought me to "Murder Drones", and it was love at first sight.

I connected to Uzi's character within her first minutes on-screen. Despite the dark tone of the story, I still hold out hope for a good ending.

Then I started seeing teasers for a new series, "The Amazing Digital Circus".

The art style and bright colors weren't my usual speed, but I decided to check it out anyway.

Personal confession, "Digital Circus" scares me more than "Murder Drones". While "Murder Drones" wears its horror inspirations on its sleeve, to me, it's more the "cool" kind of horror that I would scribble on my notebooks between classes.

Vampires, monsters, battling the forces of darkness while jamming to nightcore, you get the idea.

I have legitimately had nightmares that look like the "Digital Circus". Strange worlds of twisted colors and shapes, people I don't know, doors and staircases that lead nowhere.

All that said, I did enjoy the pilot, I found the setup and the characters interesting, and wanted to see more.

Side note, I know the studio sometimes seems to favor "Digital Circus", and it causes some resentment between the fandoms.

For myself, I see our fandoms as siblings. Let us watch our faves (hopefully) triumph over the horrors together.

This brings me to "Candy Carrier Chaos".

It happened to debut on one of my bad days, when I was feeling down, to put it mildly.

Like I didn't matter. Like no one would notice or remember me if I were gone.

And so that opening scene of Pomni's nightmare hit me like a punch in the gut.

I won't go into the episode's plot too much, as I'm sure others here have already done that and better than I ever could. The whole reason I'm writing this is because of that ending.

The members of the Circus take the time and care to remember the friend they lost in the pilot, apparently the latest of many.

They all feel the pain of loss, of being trapped in this strange world. But they still have each other. For now, at least.

The look on Pomni's face when she realizes she's not alone. When her vision replays, it has changed.

Now, there are helping hands to take hold of her. To pull her back up out of the darkness.

I honestly became a little teary-eyed at that scene. It got me thinking, "maybe the bad days are liars. Maybe I would be missed, after all."

The power of storytelling through animation. With all my heart, I hope this medium continues to grow and flourish. To any aspiring animators and artists out there, this random Tumblr person asks, please don't give up the dream. There are people out there that need to hear your stories.

In the meantime, Pomni remains where she is...and so do I. Thank you so much if you've read this whole thing. I really appreciate it.

#the amazing digital circus #murder drones #lackadaisy #fandom thoughts #indie animation #long may it shine #tracy j butler #liam vickers animation #gooseworx #thank you for sending your stories out into the world

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everlastlady · 1 year

Note

hi! im a new user on tumblr and i happened to stumble onto ur acc when looking for helluva boss fanfics!

i was wondering if you could do a striker x male!reader fanfic! as a trans man, its hard for me to find male!reader fics cause theyre a pretty hard find and a lot of the fandoms im in are kinda small!!

if u arent doing requests, thats totally fine! i can understand not doing them considering u mentioning ur break from the fandom ( btw i hope that things go well for u during ur break from the hh/hb fandom, it can be tiring )

if u are and u do do this request, thank you so much!! it means a lot to me. <3

have a good day!

Thank you! Before I take my break I'm going to get these request out of the way. But thank you! And of course I'll write Striker X Male Reader. I'll also definitely start posting mlm fics soon because I'm still getting into the comfort of writing mlm since I used to writing a lot of other fics. But I hope you enjoy this Striker X Male Reader!

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Striker X Male Reader: Hit & Run.

☕ Author's Note: Hello! My little imps, demonic sinners, and powerful overlords. Happy Pride Month! And welcome back to this story of Striker X Male Reader. I had fun writing this while blasting music. So I hope you all enjoy but also fun fact I'm bisexual, demisexual, & demi romantic. I realized I was bisexual in middle school because I had a crush on my friend Heather and I thought I just liked her because she was my friend but the universe was like nah you wanna kiss her. Lol I discovered I was demi romantic and demi sexual when I turned 19 and since then I've been feeling comfortable with who I am. My account will always be a safe place for the pride community. You are not alone, you are strong, you are loved, and my dms are always open.

☕Word Count: 2083

☕Fandom: Helluva Boss.

☕Story Contains: Blood/A beat up cowboy.

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You stirred in your sleep and opened your eyes. You noticed that your husband Striker was no longer in bed. But this was normal; Striker usually go up early in the morning or at midnight to get ready for a job. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you started dating the outlaw. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, you were still exhausted from work. But you were glad that today was your day off, you fell asleep again but woke up a couple of hours later and decided to start your day. You took a shower and got dressed. You walked into the living room and smiled at the wedding picture on the table. You remembered this day and how you meet Striker. The outlaw had run out onto the road and got hit by your car. You had stopped and panicked seeing that you hit someone. When you placed him in the car and offered to take him to the hospital. He refused to go and ask that you just patch him up, you were unsure of this but nodded. When you had taken Striker in and patched him. He really didn’t talk to you, he seemed more interested in getting patched up and leaving but with his condition. He couldn’t do that yet so he stayed with you for a few weeks. Striker was quite the asshole to you when he was under your roof. He would growl or snap at you when you tried to help him. Refused to eat your cooking because said it sucked. But deep down he loved your cooking and would sneak into the kitchen at night to eat leftovers. You worked as a nurse at a hospital so you knew how to take care of Striker. He slowly started to warm up to you and he would do this by teasing you. Striker was taller than you so he would call you a small fella and sometimes hold items above your head. He would also poke you sometimes or make jokes. Striker did help out around the house, sometimes he would cook and you loved his cooking. “ I guess you could say I’m the better cook. “ Striker chuckled. You rolled your eyes. After Striker was healed. It was time for him to say goodbye; which made you sad. You would hate to admit but you felt something for the outlaw. But you weren’t sure if he liked you or if he liked guys. “ Hey, Striker. “ You said walking up to him, as you watched him get on his horse.

“ Yea, darlin’? “ Striker said. Hearing him say that made you blush but you shook your head, it was too soon to admit your feelings. “ Have a safe trip. “ You said, smiling at him. Striker smirked that smirk you loved so much as his gold tooth glimmered in the sun. “ Thanks for taking good care of me. If I see ya again you better be ya hear me. “ Striker smacked Bombproof with his tail and rode off. You waved goodbye while blushing and smiling. You thought about Striker’s words and nodded, you head back inside. You haven’t seen Striker for a long while, but you did what he said and became a doctor. You had just finished working late and had pulled into your driveway. You got out of your car and yawned. Pulling out your keys. You unlocked the door and walked inside; you switched on the light and jumped seeing Striker sitting on your couch looking beat up and bleeding out; he saw you and smirked. “ Hey, there darlin’ it's been a while. “ Striker said and winced in pain. You quickly close the door and ran over to Striker and were careful with him. “ Striker what the fuck happened!? “ You said and ran to get your med kits. You came back and Striker started removing his clothes and staying in his boxers. You blushed and set the medkit down. You placed his bloody clothes into a bag and started to patch him up. “ I had this job, and this job didn’t go as I planned. I killed the targets but I got a little messed up during the fight. “ He said chuckling and wincing in pain. “ Sorry, and you didn’t get messed up a little you got messed up a lot. “ You said and slipped off your blood gloves. Striker lifted your chin with his finger. “ Yeah, but a cute doctor is patching me up~ “ Striker smirked. You quickly stood up and Striker’s reaction made you laugh. “ But I’m glad you did become a doctor and I wonder if you still make good food. “ Striker stared at you. You smiled. “ I’ll give you some things to clean yourself up with and I’ll make us dinner. Since you are here and I patched you up, then you owe me some catching up okay? “ You said. “ Sir yes sir. “ Striker said and chuckled.

You walked into your room and grabbed a washcloth and a towel for Striker. You found a pair of grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt that could fit him from when a friend was staying with you. You walked out and handed Striker the items. “ Thanks, pumpkin. “ Striker said. “ New nickname? “ You said with a chuckle. “ Oh, little thing I have a bunch of them let's see if you can unlock them~ “ Striker shot you and wink then walked into the bathroom. You stood there smiling and blushing. You walked into the kitchen and decided to make your favorite meal, hopefully, Striker will like it. After cooking you had finished. “ Something smells good and I know it's not just me. “ You turned around to see Striker standing there. His white hair was a mess from showering. You walked up, shit he did smell good. “ Y~Yeah I made (food name). “ You said. Striker grinned and claps his hands together. “ Then what are we waiting for let’s dig in. “ Striker sat down as you made him a plate or bowl of food. You sat down to eat with Striker. The two of you catching up. Striker was proud that you had become a doctor. “ Here darlin’ let me clean those for you. “ Striker said trying to grab your dish. “No, you need to rest Striker. “ You said frowning. Striker chuckled and pulled you close with his tail so that you pressed up against him. “ I’ve been an assassin for years. I know what my body can handle darlin’ and I’m sure you've been on your feet all day. “ Striker stared at you with a serious look. “ You go unwind, my mama taught me how to treat a host the right way. “ Striker smirked and let you go.

You were standing there flustered but walked off. You saw that Striker had gotten the blood stains out of your couch. “ Oh. wow. “ You walked into your room and started to undress so you could shower. You weren’t sure if Striker was flirting or teasing you but those feelings you had for him a while back were returning. But what if he leaves again? You frowned and turned on the shower and washed yourself up. You let the water hit your body and you thought about Striker. You weren’t sure if you would ever tell him. You sighed and turned off the water, you stepped out dried off, and changed into your pajamas. You opened the door and jumped. You saw Striker standing there holding a pack of popcorn and a tub of ice cream. “ I was still hungry and saw you had snacks, wanna watch a movie? “ You smiled and nodded. “ I would love to. “ Striker offered his hand to you. You grabbed his hand and later that night you and Striker were watching an old western movie had had suggested both of you had finished off the ice cream and popcorn. You saw that Striker had fallen asleep at the end of the movie. You stood up carefully sliding him down on the couch. You walked off and returned with a pillow and a black blanket. You carefully slipped the pillow under his head and covered him with it, you watched him stir in his sleep. You smiled and walked off.

You got yourself ready for bed since tomorrow was your day off but you still valued your rest. You got into bed and sat there thinking of Striker and you fell asleep. You planned for a restful sleep but you woke up screaming and crying. But something held, you looked up to see Striker looking at you with a worried look. “ (Y/N) are you okay? I heard ya screaming and crying. Did you have a nightmare darlin? Here scoot over I’mma slide in. “ Striker said. You scoot over and Striker got in your bed and pulled you close and rubs your hand. “ You can tell me what happened if you want. “ He said looking at you with a smile and a caring look. You sighed, you might as well tell him and if he rejects you then at least the nightmare wasn’t wrong. “ I had had feelings for you, I love you Striker, but I had a nightmare that I told you how I felt and you just laughed you kept laughing telling me that you don’t love me. “ Tears threatened to spill again. “ Y~You love me? “ Striker said. You look up to see Striker blushing and had a large grin. “ D~ No, (Y/N) I feel the same way I about you when we first met and you patched me up and you let me stick around I developed feelings for you, I just didn’t know how to tell you. I couldn’t get you out of my head ever since I left. It’s one of the reasons I came back. “ Striker chuckled and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall because you were happy that he felt the same way. “ Strik- “ But you were cut off as Striker kissed you and you kissed him back. The two of you locked in a passionate kiss both of your tails wrapping together and getting tangled. Striker promised to stay in the bed with you and the two of you talked all night.

Striker told you that if you agreed to be his boyfriend then you would have to deal with the outlaw lifestyle the things that came with being an assassin even a couple of rules. You loved Striker so you agreed to be his boyfriend and follow his rules which were no calling him while he is working, no posting pictures of him on your social media, don’t let others know about your relationship with him, and be careful who you trust. Striker had these rules to protect himself and espically you. So you agreed to these rules. Striker held you close and kissed your head. “ I love you bo. “ Striker said as he kept his tail around you. After that night you and Striker continued your relationship. You supported him and he supported you. Of course, now he was no more careful when taking on jobs but even when he got a bit messed up, you were always there to patch him back. Eventually, Striker proposed to you when he made you a fancy homemade dinner. The two of you had a small private wedding but you didn’t care about some grand wedding you had Striker and that’s what made you happy. Striker always made you laugh and smile. He would play songs on guitar for you, even written you a few songs, and maybe sometimes he took you on trips. He always brought you a gift back from his jobs, Striker loved you and he’ll always love you.

-Back In the Present -

You felt someone kiss your neck. “ Striker~ “ You blushed as the cowboy pulled you close while placing his hand on your chest. “ I see my beautiful bo is remembered our wedding day. “ He said also staring at the picture with you. “ And the day we met. “ You said while setting the picture down you turn around and kissed Striker. He held you close and kissed back. “ I still remeber the nervous mess you were when we met. But you were my nervous mess. I’m glad you hit me with your car. “ He said laughing and shaking his head. “ How many times will I have to say sorry, but yes I’m glad I hit you with my car too. “ Striker dipped and kissed you.

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