#you can really see the mesh of color when it's in front of u

[seeingivy]

Omg can u do a one shot where reader goes to the eras tour with Gojo??

miss americana and the heartbreak prince

satoru gojo x f!reader

an: this didn't mesh well as a one shot when I wrote it, so i hope this mix of blurbs and headcanons is ok <3 also, this is for a very specific audience, feel free to ignore on your dash!!!

--

satoru gojo, in his infinite knowledge and wisdom, is first exposed to the eras tour when you ask him to sign up for a presale code

“wait, so. you just want me to sign up for all the dates?” satoru asks, voice echoing through your phone speaker.  “yes, make sure that you verify your ticketmaster account and everything now. and then when you do that, send me a picture so i can make sure you did it right.” you respond.  “it’s not rocket science, babe. i’m sure i can figure out how to do it.” satoru grumbles, as you hear typing on the other end of the line.  “just take the picture when you’re done.”  “was this that important that you had to call me while I was at work?”  “babe. this is taylor swift. of course it was.”  “right.” 

the fated day of buying tickets come and you and satoru are literally hiding from your bosses in the corner of your office - laptops pulled up and anxiously watching the queue

you're both nervously watching the numbers get smaller and smaller, nervous hands open on a twitter tab that's talking about people getting kicked out of the line, locked out, or being told that the tickets are already all gone

but by the grace of god, satoru's laptop goes through first and he manages to bag the two of you floor tickets and you're in

you climb into bed, pushing the hair off of satoru’s head to give him a kiss on the forehead, before you tuck yourself into the sheets and nestle into his arms.  “sweetheart.”  “hm?”  “can i ask you a question? you don’t have to say yes.” he asks, voice all uncharacteristically shy.  you prop yourself up on his bare chest, trying to discern the look on his face in the dark, as you nod.  “can i go to the concert with you?”  and when you see the little frowny face he has on, you can’t help but laugh at the entire ordeal, at the satoru gojo begging you to take him to a taylor swift concert. and when you start laughing, he starts grumbling, turning his surely pink face away from you.  “shut up.”  “oh my god, toru. you’re so cute, you know that?”  “i’m glad my misery is adorable to you.”  “I’d love if you would come to the concert with me. on one condition.”  “what’s that?”  “you have to learn all the lore and listen to the songs before we go. i’m not about to be that girl standing next to the guy who doesn’t know the surprise songs on the floor.”  “okay. what’s a surprise song?”  you press your fingers against his lips and place a kiss on his cheek.  “all in good time.”

you make a game plan for satoru, color coded and planned out, for him to learn everything you want him to know

you break it down for him era by era, asking him to first listen to the album and send you his reviews - and then explaining important key details that he would need to know

and it evolves so fast, because he gets more and more excited as he goes on, texting you his thoughts at work

he just needs a reason to not do work, but he gets REALLY REALLY INTO IT

satoru: YOU’RE GAY.  you: no? i don’t think so satoru: i’m singing picture to burn babe, be quiet satoru: if the way i loved you is country music, slap a flannel and a cowboy hat on me because i am FLOORED. ABSOLUTE BANGER.  you: PLEASE ARE YOU LISTENING AT WORK???  satoru: mind your own business.  satoru: also, who is mr. perfectly fine about?  you: joe jonas.  satoru: she dated joe jonas?  you: no satoru, she dated barack obama. yes, she dated joe jonas.  satoru: well now i hate him. he’s so rude.  satoru: THIS IS ME SWALLOWING MY PRIDE STANDING IN FRONT OF YOU SAYING IM SORRY FOR THATTTT NIGHT  you: last night when you ate my leftovers?  satoru: that wasn’t me you: sure.  satoru: is dear john about john mayer?  you: yes. we don’t like him.  satoru: fuck yeah we don’t. SHINING LIKE FIREWORKS OVER YOUR SAD EMPTY TOWN??? JOHN, JOHN WHEN I CATCH YOU  satoru: babe if you ever break up with me ill go sleep on the highway  you: ok?? I wasn’t planning on it satoru: do not EVER give me a reason to relate to last kiss i will actually do something dangerous  you: why did shoko just send me a picture of you with your head down on your desk at work?  satoru: babe please don’t talk to me rn. i just listened to all too well and i am inconsolable.  you: wait till you watch the short film.  satoru: PLEASE I CAN’T HANDLE THIS. JAKE GYLLENHAL ALEX THE LION FROM MADAGASCAR WHEN I GET YOU.  you: ok satoru. pipe down.  satoru: ARE WE OUT OF THE WOODS YET ARE WE OUT OF THE WOODS YET ARE WE OUT OF THE WOODS YET  you: i feel like im creating a monster.  satoru: I WANT YOU FOR WORSE OR FOR BETTER BROKE YOUR HEART ILL PUT IT BACK TOGETHER satoru: just finished reputation. many thoughts  you: oh???  satoru: one. can we get frisky to dress? two. I am buying you a necklace with my initial on it. three. king of my heart is my favorite song so far. four. CAN WE GET FRISKY TO DRESS. five. kanye west, when I get you. you: satoru. you are at work. please focus.  satoru: i know that’s a yes.  satoru: just listened to lover. I am inconsolable and i love this white woman. DAYLIGHT??? THAT’S SO ME AND YOU. LOVER??? THAT’S SO ME AND YOU. PAPER RINGS??? ME AND YOU.  you: do not take paper rings as an excuse to not buy me a real ring. I am expecting a nice six pronged gold band circular cut diamond.  satoru: also can we get frisky to false god.  you: satoru gojo.  satoru: babe. urgent. 911.  you: what.  satoru: am i augustine or am i betty??  you: you’re inez. nosy gossiping ass bitch.  satoru: EXCUSE ME. also invisible string is so us. joe alwyn, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS.  you: well. satoru: is she ok. like seriously, is taylor ok??? if she has happily been in a relationship for six years why did she write tolerate it? doesn’t she know my mental health is fragile?  you: why tf are YOU crying about tolerate it? we’ve been in a stable relationship for four years satoru: i was imaging you being mean to me. it really hurt my feelings  you: ok.  satoru: long story short, the masterpiece that you are. JOE AND TAYLOR YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS.  satoru: what is their name combined  you: toe.  satoru: ok… satoru: MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT you: oh god. you’re at the end. let’s hear it.  satoru: one. can we get frisky to maroon? two. you’re on your own kid changed my life. three. sweet nothing is us. four. can we get frisky to maroon. five. john mayer i will KILL YOU. six. also is like scooter braun a crack head or something like what is vigilante shit even about  satoru: babe. satoru: no.  satoru: YOU’RE LOSING ME???? JOE???? JOE ALWYN MY BROTHER JOE ALWYN???? NO.  you: yes.  satoru: Y/N. HE WON’T MARRY HER?????? IM GOING TO KILL HIM. THE GUY WHO LOVER IS ABOUT??? WHO MASTERMIND SWEET NOTHING INVISIBLE STRING IS ABOUT???  satoru: do not talk to me. I hate you.  you: WHAT DID I DO

satoru gets more and more excited about the entire thing as it goes on, telling YOU that you need to start planning outfits and making bracelets like you weren't the one who got him into this

satoru cannot make friendship bracelets. but he likes watching you make them and asking you all the little things you like about the music

“ok. what do i make the next one?”  “hm. did you do style yet?”  “no.”  you start collecting all the beads as satoru props his phone up against the table, to the live stream of the concert. every night, the two of you watch the surprise songs together and make a note of which ones you lose from your drafted list of picks - a mix of yours and satoru’s favorite songs that aren’t on the setlist.  “open.”  satoru holds the spoon of noodles right over your lips as you focus on finishing the bracelet, his eyes focused on the live stream.  “satoru.”  “hm?”  “can i ask a weird question?”  “sure.”  “you seem like you’re like really into this. like actually.”  “well, i am. this is serious - i cannot lose clean for a second time or i will break something.”  “not that. I just mean, the entire thing. like the songs and the music and all that. you…are really into it.”  “well, why wouldn’t i be? it’s something you like. and it clearly means a lot to you, so it does to me too.”  you can feel your cheeks burning at how blunt he is about the entire thing, like it’s something so obvious, like him putting in all this effort to like something you do is a given. you lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, which he smiles at before focusing back on the live stream.  “BABE. NO.”  “OH MY GOD." “ITS CLEAN.” “TORU HOW DID WE LOSE A SONG TWICE.”

satoru decides that the two of you are going to go as miss americana and the heartbreak prince - and watches you meticulously collect fabrics and threads to make the pink dress you had in mind

you made it a point to also sew on the little broken heart for satoru's light pink shirt and white slacks that he was going to wear to the concert and buy the two of you matching gold crowns to wear together

“something is missing from my outfit, y/n.”   you frown, looking over at him as he fixes the little gold crown you got him on his white hair.  “what are you talking about? you look fine.”  satoru digs through your makeup box, rummaging around till he pulls out a tube of your red lipstick.  “you want to wear it, toru?”  “what? no. you put it on and then plant a bunch of kisses on my cheeks. so it leaves a mark.”  “oh?”  “IT’LL LOOK BETTER THAT WAY. I SAW SOMEONE ON TIK TOK DO IT.”  you roll your eyes as you lean forward in the mirror, blotting the buttery product on your lips and ignoring the devilish smile that satoru’s giving you in the mirror. and then you turn around and cup his face in your hands, making it a point to pepper long kisses on his cheeks and the side of his neck, making sure the full mark of your lips is left on his skin.  and when you’re done, he turns in the mirror and gives you a satisfied smile.  “perfect.”  “you’re so lame, satoru. if you wanted me to kiss you, you should have just asked.”  “can i have a kiss?”  “no.”  he leans forward and wraps his arms around your waist, it being his turn to smother you in kisses, eliciting a laugh from you when his breath tickles your neck.  “shut up.”

type of mf to take BILLIONS OF PICTURES of you outside the concert and even more with you, until you both get ones you like

also, totally wears a stack of friendship bracelets that you made together, but only trades with other boyfriends and dads in solidarity

man stands for the entire concert with you, except during the man. because he knows his place.

you start SOBBING during lover and he's there just smiling at how SILLY you are and wiping your little tears away. you both sway to the song together and scream the bridge together.

he takes a picture of you doing the fearless heart with taylor in the back. bc duh.

speaking of, this dude is NOT recording taylor AT ALL he is recording you and taking pictures of you and it's literally the most wholesome thing ever

like you're just so excited and jumpy that he thinks its cute and he wants to document it

but then he's so inconsolable during tis the damn season and tolerate it that he's SCREAMING THE LYRICS with the passion of ten suns (he is an evermore stan, fight with the wall)

takes a video of you singing during enchanted (which he later makes his lockscreen)

fighting for his life during all too well. like everyone else.

your surprise songs are dear john and daylight - which you're both screaming together on the floor.

satoru is giving YOU the side eye when you scream DATE ME TAYLOR during vigilante shit chair moment.

mister man is blushing when you point at him when taylor sings karma is my boyfriend

carries you out of the concert bc he knows your feet are killing you.

and feeds you after. bc duh. post concert munchies at a fast food drive thru.

--

an, again: tee hee this was so silly but so fun to think about. and for a very niche audience AHAHHAHA. also it feels weird to use my taglist when this is for a VERY specific audience so I will ignore.

#adding this as an extra #for taylor as gojo #ty for this fun ask anon! #satoru #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #gojo #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

[delicrieux]

Prompt 56 and/or 66 for Corpse perhaps? 💕

･:* ☆ author’s note: dont let the title fool u this fic is actually just angst </3 also it takes place before quarantine i dont condone partying during the pandemic lmao. from the prompt list: 56. “You didn’t call. You didn’t text. Nothing.”

masterlist.｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

He’s worried. Hardly a surprise - he’s always worried about something. Anxiety makes him rigid. It’s hard to breathe, and for a second he thinks he has forgotten how to do that in the first place. It’s the swirling crowd, the bright lights, loud music and perfumed, hot air. Makes his head spin. It’s hard to focus. Maybe that’s why he didn’t stay for long. He never meshed well with people - they rejected him somehow, or perhaps it’s his anxiety that told him that they did. He had wandered around that fucking house for two hours, trying to find a quiet corner to just relax, yet to no avail.

One minute here, maybe two, was all it took for him to become inexplicably overwhelmed.

He came because you asked. Friends do things for other friends and he knew you were looking forward to it - it was the only thing you were talking about the past week. Picking out an outfit, fixing your hair, indulging in something stronger than lemonade or sparkling water. You had taken the time to coordinate your clothes with his. Matching color scheme, the two of you had shown up dressed to the nines. People flocked you instantly. You got swept away in the current too quickly for him to realize he was left to fend on his own. 

You found him a few times after that, dragged him to the dance floor. Your hands were pleasant to the touch, gentle and warm. Your smile was a bit sloppy, eyes twinkling, cheeks flustered from the heat and the drinks and the laughter. It made him smile, too. You had asked him where he disappeared to. Repeated the question seven times because he couldn’t hear you over the music. You leaned in in a last ditch effort to find an answer; your breath tickled the shell of his ear. He had no concrete reply to give you. Just here and there.

More searching. The minute handle seemed stuck in place for him. He couldn’t phantom how you could relish in all this noise. He heard remnants of a conversation and your bell-like laughter and found you in the kitchen. People clustered around you. You seemed engaged in a story about some ski-trip gone bad. He felt a pang in his chest, something stuck between desperation and longing, and wanted to join your side instantly and stay there and maybe wrap his arm around your shoulders or-

His mind insisted that he wasn’t pleasant company. What could he offer to a conversation involving five people?

He left to haunt the halls instead. Ten more minutes of torment, perhaps even less than that, and he went home.

His head is still pounding with a headache, even when he lays in bed, staring at his shadowed ceiling. His heart is racing in his chest, oddly reminiscent of the erratic drum of music he had heard at the party. His phone keeps buzzing with an influx of messages. He wills himself to check it.

(NAME) ♡

↪yo the fuck?? ↪ where are u?? ↪ did u go home??? i cant find u anywhere i checked the bathroom twice ↪ sum1 said they saw u leaving wtf??? ↪ you didn’t think to call?? ↪  or text??? ↪ nothing??? ↪ corpse the hell call me NOW

He doesn’t get a chance to text you back, or do anything else for that matter, because his screen flashes with a call and his finger hoovers over the Decline button. He doesn’t go through with it. A moment later your shrill voice fills his ear.

“You alive?!”

Alive? He’s not sure, so he settles with, “Not dead.”

You audibly sigh; he can’t see it, but your hand is resting on your chest, “Thank God. You seriously scared me.” You chuckle nervously, “You’re home, yeah?”

“...Yes. Sorry for freaking you out, I just...wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t want to ruin your fun.”

“...What? Didn’t want to ruin-- you ruin shit by leaving with me with some assholes. You have any idea how many stories I had to listen to today? Horrible, every single on of them. The party was a bust anyway. I’m gonna be at yours in, like, ten minutes.”

“Wait--” He sits up, “You’re...coming over?”

“That’s what I said, yeah. Unless you don’t want me to, but, uhm, I’m already in my Uber, so--”

“No, no, I don’t mind, I just--uhh--I thought you wanted...to...stay and party?”

“I wanted to party with you.” You stress, “I know you don’t exactly like crowds but when you said yes I got really excited and--and well...Yeah that’s it. I just got excited. Next time we can stay in or go to the movies or something.”

“Shit,” He mutters, “I need to clean my room.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it, but next time? Do me a favor and just let me know when you decide to arrivederci. Send a pigeon. Leave graffiti on the walls. Do something, you seriously scared me.”

His smile is back, and he feels as if he hadn’t smiled in years, “Promise. Thanks, (Name).”

“The hell you’re thanking me for? I’m the one that should be thanking you, since I’m inviting myself over.”

“You’re always invited.” He says, a bit breathless, but now for an entirely different reason, “You’re a...” His tongue suddenly feels too big for his mouth. Clearing his throat, he continues, steadily this time, “You’re a great friend.”

Right, friend, friends do things for other friends. You’re just being a good friend, nothing more.

“...Oh. Yeah, you’re a great friend, too.”

So why do you sound so disappointed? It’s a feeling he definitely shares.

“See you in a few.” You mutter before hanging up. 

Fuck, maybe he’s still a bit out of it, because he can’t focus again, his mind persistently trailing back to the word friend. It echoes. For the first time in his life it sounds unpleasant.

No time. He’ll figure it out when you get here. You’ll both figure it out. Or maybe you won’t. That idea halts his movements, makes him reluctant to get out of bed. No time. He doesn’t move. Only when the buzzer indicates your arrival behind his front door does he finally get up.

He feels like he’s still at that stupid party. Confused and anxious and for some reason afraid.

All of that melts promptly when he opens the door and finds you there, smiling at him in the lovely way you do. “...Hi.” You say sweetly, quietly.

His heart thuds in his chest. He dips his head in a wordless greeting and steps aside to let you in.

“I forgot to clean.” He confesses as you take off your shoes.

“Literally don’t care.” You utter, “I was thinking we could watch something on Netflix. Something funny. Or bad. Or funny bad. How does that sound?”

That sounds like not talking. Maybe that’s for the best.

“Yeah, sure.”

.

hope you liked it! xx

.

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader #request #angst #sorry lol

[ask-fantasy-sanders-sides]

What are the ten True Dragon Types? And what's a true dragon? I don't play D+D lol

(( Hey yall! This post is REALLY LONG (and techincally the part one to a much shorter addition about drow dragonblood descendants, here!) but the stuff in it is pretty important, since this game focuses pretty heavily on dragons and I’ve changed quite a bit about them from standard 5e! So, if you have time, maybe take a look ;) ))

(( I got a LOT of the changes to the chromatic dragon’s designs, and the pit organs of the copper dragon, from tumblr user filibusterfrog! Go check out their art and creature designs, they’re mad awesome!! ))

~~~

      True Dragons are the ten subspecies of Dragon who most resemble the ancient goliaths that ruled the entire Material Plane long ago, before it was stolen from them by the ancient Elves, and most of them were killed. They are few in number and don’t tend to band together in clans, but that does not make them weak. They are still huge, immensely powerful beasts, with a natural command of magic and the elements and incredibly long lifespans. 

      (“False Dragons” are either farther removed from their common ancestors, or are not actually related to dragons at all and simply resemble them more than any other creature type, like wyverns and drakes!)

      ((More in-depth explanations below!))

~~~

      After the war with the Elves and their allies, those Dragons who survived split into two pseudo-religious factions; the Metallics, who serve King Bahamut, Platinum Justicebringer, and made peace with the Elves and all other humanoids, and the Chromatics, who revere Queen Tiamat, Chaos Avaricious, who desire to see the world brought back under their thumb. 

(Metallic, strongest -> weakest: Gold, Silver, Bronze, Copper, and Brass.)

(Chromatic, strongest -> weakest: Red, Blue, Green, Black, White)

      These two rulers gained Deity status through their people’s reverence, and in turn shaped the bodies and minds of their people into the dragons we see today: Unlike most Humanoids, Dragons don’t exactly have free will. (Most of their personalities and decisions are directly puppeted by their Gods.) Because of this, the behavior of each Type is pretty consistent across the board, even in half-dragons or dragonblood descendants. Each Type also has a distinctive look, a set of common behaviors and flaws, and a set of Hoarding Behaviors, though they are all incredibly greedy and proud beasts. 

~~~

The Ten True Types:

~

      Black Dragons are slender and wiry, their bodies covered in slick, dense, thick tar-colored fur. Their fur is lighter around their eyes and on their underside, appearing a pale, sickly yellow or green. Their horns are just as pale, and protrude from the sides of their heads and wrap around, projecting forwards. Thick pale skin plates their muzzles and under their eyes, appearing like the naked bone of their skulls. Their front feet have extra skin that acts like a paddle for swimming, and they have flat, paddle-like tales, and the hair at the upper part of their neck sticks out like a large frill. They smell of rotting vegetation and foul water.       By far the cruelest and most vile-tempered of the chromatic dragons, black dragons actively take pleasure in the suffering of weaker creatures. They hoard the ruins of old civilizations and ruined noble houses to imagine the suffering of their endings, and hoard tools of torture they might use to toy with their prey. They desire nothing more than to kill, in whatever way which maximizes the suffering of their chosen victim/s. Their weapon breath is a stream of bubbling green acid.

~

      Blue Dragons have two large horns on their snout much like a rhino, two smaller horns by their ears, and even more horn-bumps lining their thick, crocodile-like tails. Their scales are thin, layered across thick hide-skin like a light chain mesh. They range many shades of blue, with a more cream-colored underbelly, paws, and horns. They have a dark blue mane of hair around their necks and chests, which stretches down their back and tail, between their scutes. Their chests are large and necks are short, but they are lighter than they appear, most of that center mass being applied as muscle that powers their massive wings, more powerful than any other dragon’s. They smell like arid sand, and the burning, static sting of an oncoming storm.

      Blue dragons are ceaselessly vain, more concerned with being respected for their beauty and the beauty of their hoards than for their power. They are even known to spare those who flatter them enough, and allow safe passage to jewel merchants who promise them the finest in their possessions. They are still not to be trusted, and are more likely to mock and toy with lesser creatures than spare them, like cats playing with mice before a meal. They exclusively hoard gems and items laden with them, preferring blue sapphires above all others. Their weapon breath is a stream of powerful lightning.

~

      Brass Dragons are one of the most distinctive. Their wings attach all the way to the tips of their tails, longest at the shoulder, making a V shape from below. Their thin, brass-colored scales -- which start brown when they are young, turn brass, then turn blue in splotches as they age -- radiate heat and light. Large curved plate-like horns extend from the dragon’s eyes and cheeks on either side and curve upwards into two points, and a mass of brass and brown spotted feathers grows behind them, fluffing out around their chest and neck like a lion’s mane before tapering down their back to the tail. They have two sharp horns on their chin that curve downwards, giving their muzzles a faux beak-like shape. They smell like freshly worked metal.

      Brass dragons are the most benign of the ten, wanting nothing more than to converse with other creatures. They love to talk, to the exclusion of every other possible activity. They hoard items that make conversation easier, like sentient magic items, genie lamps, and items with charm effects. Brass dragons have two separate breath weapons: a narrow line of fire, and a cone of sleep gas. (All Metallics have a lethal breath and a non-lethal breath)

~

      Bronze Dragons have small, reflective scales (which are red at infancy but turn bronze in color during adolescence,) and black claws and horns. As they age, the tips of their wings and horns turn teal blue at the edges and tips, and their scales turn teal in long stripes. They have four large horns on each side of their heads, three protruding from each cheek and one from the top of their brow, all pointing back towards their tail. Their tongues are long and purple-grey, with a shallow fork like an iguana’s, and their teeth appear to be forged of broken glass, like the moray eel’s. A series of long spikes runs down the upper part of their necks, the spikes curving slightly backwards towards the tip of the tail. A dorsal fin runs from just beneath these spikes all the way down to the tip of their tails, mirrored by another long fin that stems from under the chest and runs along the underside of the body. Bronze dragons smell like sea spray.

      Bronze dragons are curious and stubborn, possessing a strong sense of justice and a deep-seated hatred for all forms of cruelty. They crave the sea and the pursuit of freedom, often spending their time taking human shape and becoming pirates or seaside mercenaries. They are brilliant military tacticians, and they demand high salaries for their work. The only time they will charge into battle without compensation is when fighting against a powerful tyrant, where they can expect to go all-out, and exercise their true strength without restraint. They hoard keepsakes and memorabilia from the wars they’ve fought and adventures they had, including sunken ships, old cannons, and legendary weapons. They have two breath weapons, a lethal lightning breath and a repulsion breath that does no damage, just moves things around. 

~

      Copper dragons have short, smooth faces, with pit organs and cheek ridges that point backwards. Their long segmented horns begin as smooth brow plates and extend backwards, and plate-like scales extend backwards from the tops of their heads and down their backs, with incredibly thick hide on their underbellies and the insides of their limbs. Their scales are wide and large, like interlocking shields, and dome over their wide bodies, making them look much like pangolins. These scales begin orange, yellow, or green in color, turning copper as that dragon ages, then green in spots and splotches as they reach adulthood, though they remain red-orange around the eyes. Tucked underneath the bottom ridges of the lowest scales are their alar limbs, short but articulated, and manta-like wings grow from them down to the base of their tails. When fully opened, they seem to make a U shape from below, with red and green discolorations at the end. Their tails are long, wide, prehensile, and well-armored, and they have long digging claws.. As they age, these dragon’s pupils turn a glowing turquoise green. They smell like stone.

      Copper dragons are even-tempered and sociable, with an insatiable love for riddles and jokes. They love to share in witty conversation and play “harmless” pranks, but get offended easily at those who don’t like to laugh or talk, and people who do not find them funny. They treasure moments of good companionship, and hoard items that remind them of people and conversations they’ve enjoyed, as well as old tomes that contain their favorite stores. They have two breath weapons; a line of powerful green acid, and a cone of gas that slows anyone who touches it. 

~

      Gold Dragons appear like the typical depiction of a Chinese dragon in our world, but their fur, scales, antler-like horns, and claws are all the color of glittering gold. As they aged, even their pupils faded away until their eyes appeared like pools of liquid gold. Notably, they do not have wings, flying entirely through magic and force of will. They seem to glow in the sun, though whether they are actually glowing or their scales simply reflect sunlight very well is anyone’s guess.

      Gold Dragons are passionate and valorous, desiring nothing more than victory over evil. They are relentless in their hunt for evil creatures, injustices, and foul play of all forms, putting aside all other desires and even often food or shelter to combat cruel forces in the world that require more force than humans are capable of. They are personally grim and reserved creatures -- not unkind, they simply don’t prefer company, and usually avoid casual contact with other creatures, even fellow dragons. They hoard the spoils of their evil-hunting conquests -- hoards of chromatic dragons they’ve slain, jems from the bowels of a purple worm, etc. They have two weapon breaths, being a cone of fire breath and a spray of some chemical gas that weakens all who inhale it...

~

      Green Dragons had long, snake-like bodies and smooth snake-like scales. A large, waving crest fin starts at this dragon’s nose and runs the entire length of their body. Their scales and fins start a dark blue-black when they are young, turning dark green as they reach adulthood, and then their underbelly scales lighten to a paler green as they age. They also have exceptionally long, slender forked tongues.

      Green Dragons were master manipulators and liars, who enjoy corrupting weaker creatures (especially elves) and hoarding them like possessions. They will put up a front of diplomacy and deceit when bargaining with stronger foes, but reveal their true cruel and petty nature when intimidating lesser beings or when they gained the upper hand. They delighted in stalking their chosen enemies for information and exposing other’s secrets, but despised whenever they were exposed in a lie. Their hoard took the form of a network of spies and captives, who the Green Dragon blackmails and manipulates into servitude and dependence. Green dragons are one of the weaker of the true ten and despise getting their hands dirty with violence, counting any encounter that couldn’t be ended with words and mind games as a failure. Their breath weapon is a cloud of yellow poison gas.

~

      Red Dragons appear like the classic English/European dragons, with fire-red scales, reptilian bodies, and large bat-like wings that fray along the edges. Their horns, claws, and underbellies are a pale golden color, growing back from the skull and curling back and upwards towards their wings, twisting on themselves as they grow longer. Red dragons were of an enormous size and wingspan even for dragons, true powerhouses of their species. They smell of smoke and sulfur.

      Red dragons embody the worst of all their kin’s vices. They are voracious over-hunters, vain and covetous hoarders, and cruel, maniacal, sadistic tyrants. Short-tempered and hot-blooded, Red dragons are known to make all decisions without an ounce of forethought, completely confident in their ability to do anything they want. They delighted in the ruin, death, and destruction of other creatures and their settlements, wanting nothing more than to set the planet ablaze and reap the rewards of dead men’s gold. They hoarded anything with material wealth, wishing to be the richest creatures alive.

~

      Silver Dragons’ bodies are tube-like in shape, with soft, iridescent silver fur all over their bodies. The fur on their underbellies and jaws are more white than metallic, with pronounced goatees of longer whiskers under their chins. They have curved wings with two talons instead of the usual one. A beautiful stripe of glittering opalescent fur runs down from the top of their heads all the way to the tips of their tails, sticking up like a spiked frill or mohawk of pearl thread, abruptly fading to a purple hue at the tip. Their antler-like horns and long claws were also pure silver with opalescent purple tips. They smell like rain and petrichor. 

      Wise, noble, and playful, Silver Dragons do not go out of their way to fight evil like the gold or bronze, but wait to be asked for help; They were simply more concerned with protecting those humanoids they had come to befriend than actively seeking out injustices. They are obsessed with the lives and cultures of humans and elves, spending most of their time among them, taking the shape of a humanoid and pretending to be one of the crowd. They desired to spend most of their everyday lives in humanoid form (though it should be remembered that they still consider themselves to be the most superior creatures in the world). They hoarded works of art and historical artifacts with connections to civilizations they admired or befriended, and the friendships they made with humanoid people (though they did not physically keep the people themselves, like Greens and some Brass). Their breath weapons were an icy blast that froze solid all it touched, and a short-lasting paralyzing gas.

~

      White Dragons appear very similar to Silvers, at first glance. But, unlike the lithe and flexible silvers, White dragons are stocky and muscled; still streamlined for maximum speed but built with considerably more strength. They have manes of long, thick white fur on their shoulders and back, stretching down their tails and the outsides of their limbs. Their underbellies, faces, and the inside of their limbs are plated with glittering translucent scales, shining all shades of pearlescent white, icy blue, and opalescent lavenders. Their claws are obsidian-colored and long, optimized for climbing and digging through solid ice, and their tales are tipped with a leathery swimming fin. A singular horn-like crest grows back from their skulls under the mane of long fur, and a large dewlap hands from the underside of their necks, with spikes growing down from it. Like red dragons, their wings appear frayed and punctured towards the ends, but usually aren’t actually damaged. Their eyes are fully black, turning a light purple as they age. They have a crisp, vaguely chemical smell.

      White dragons lack the cruelty of their kin, but they make up for it in pure strength and ferocity. It is believed that they are actually one of the strongest of the chromatic dragons, (unlike their typical placement on the hierarchy,) but because they chose not to engage like other dragons; They purposefully abandon their natural talents for magic, and even their intelligence, choosing to behave as massive animals. White dragons despise socializing or even speaking to other creatures, resorting even to fleeing their lairs for the day if they see someone approaching. If bothered persistently they are known to make deals with other creatures (as long as they aren’t hungry or angry already when you show up), and even form bonds with them, at which point they are very protective and loyal allies. They are some of the most excellent hunters on the Material Plane, seamlessly blending otherworldly intelligence and heightened senses with animalistic vigor and savagery. They are still one of the most dangerous of all ten dragons, though, from their tendency to go full ‘animal’ and hunt any creature that moves. They hoard anything that glitters shines in the light (including chunks of ice), and their breath weapon is a blast of freezing cold.

#lets roll #long post #long answer #like SUPER LONG this time guys #but this stuff is important #this story is VERY dragon-centric #game lore #I got a LOT of the changes to the dragon’s designs from tumblr user filibusterfrog! Go check out their blog! #please tell me if i need to tag anything else!

[criquette-was-here]

Long Due Replies

Hi everyone! It’s been some crazy few months for me. Real life has taken over completely so I didn’t have a chance to pay attention to my inbox. There are lot of asks on troubleshooting and I apologise for not being able to help on time. I hope everyone who needed help has got it somehow >.< There’s a crazy amount of messages, so I’m going to hide it under the cut.

@shutupshirley said:

Hi Criquette, I’m sorry because this is dumb, but I don’t understand how to install your neighbourhood lighting mod on an installation of Ultimate Collection... do I change out every lighting.txt file I can find across all the expansion and stuff packs? :/

Thank you!!!!

Hi @shutupshirley! I’m not a big specialist on windows version of TS2 and UC but I believe there are two folders you have to look at and they are ‘Fun with Pets’ and ‘Open for Business’

Anonymous said:

What do you imagine residents of Feverfew are called? I keep doing Peruvian but like Ferfewian or some

Oh, yes, I was thinking about this matter at some point! Feverfewian is what I came up with. I even found a wiki article about different names for different town inhabitants to sort of made it up a bit, but I haven’t write down the result I had and now I’ve lost it. I think feverfewians sounds best, it can even have some silly derivatives like ‘fewies’

@3sushiroll said:

Hi Criquette, I'm getting into SC4 and have been getting the hang of it while using the sims 2 hood planner. I've been starting to use bridges and have been using yours. When I put in the tile measurement into the hood planner (ex: 15 tile = 8 in SC4), it doesn't exactly line up in game. Does this usually happen for you and you put in a piece of fake road in the middle or am I just doing it wrong and it should line up super nicely? Thank you for all your wonderful creations!

Hi @3sushiroll! Yes, TS2 parses SC4 roads this way. I always put some decorative road in the gap or I make the shores narrower so that the bride would overlap the road. But to make slopes where the road ends equal, you have to use TS2 terraforming tool to make this flat empty piece of terrain right after the road end into slope so that it would look like the opposite.

Anonymous said:

Hi there, hope you're doing well! I downloaded your simple walkways set and noticed that they float. They don't sit on the ground properly. Is there anything I can do on my end to make them sit closer to the ground? Any help would be appreciated, thank you!

Hey anon! Thank you! Yes, this old set of walkways was made this way. Maxis made neighborhood mode roads float, so I had to do the same with road related decorations. But now you can use these Cobblestone paths or side walks from the Rural Charm, they’re as close to the ground as possible.

Anonymous said:

hey! would it ever be possible for you to create recolors of the cobblestone sidewalks in red brick/cobblestone?

Hi anon! I don’t think so :| I can’t even find the time to fix some Ferverfew related issues >.<

Anonymous said:

Hi Criquette. I liked Feverfew very much. I would like to make some of the houses multi-unit, keeping your doors in place. Is it possible to add the function of apartments to these doors? :)

Hi nonne! As far as I’m aware, you can only default replace those apartment doors which is quite useless. What you can do, is to put an apartment door right behind the front door. This, obviously, would eat up the space but could work as a solution.

Anonymous said:

Hello! I just downloaded Feverview and it's gorgeous! I can't believe all the little details you added, the effort and love you put into this project is incredible. I just had a small question: a few residential lots are fake apartments, I was wondering if you know how to turn them into functional apartments 

Hi anon! I’m glad you liked Feverfew! ^__^ In theory, you can use SimPE or Lot Editor to change lot type from residential to apartment and then implement apartment doors somehow, but since I don’t have AL in my Super Collection, I have zero experience in that.

Anonymous said:

Hi Criquette! :) I just realized recently that if I delete objects in game, I have to delete first the recolors of it. I've already deleted a bunch of objects without knowing about this, so now my downloads folders has houndreds of recolors without meshes. Do you know about anything I can do to find and delete these orphans? (Delphys download organizer just can't make difference)

Hi anon! I’m definitely not a helper on the matter of keeping Downloads folder organised, sorry ^^’‘ I would thing about finding sets of files with similar names keeping eye on the absence of the word ‘mesh’ in the names, and looking at the file size at the same time. And that would take ages, obviously. 

@ardyyy4 said:

Hello Criquette. I love Feverfew so much. But I have a problem. The grass and NHood objects are flickering together and it looks bad. How can i fix it? Thanks.

Hello Arda! That’s because of the neighborhood camera you’re using. I’d recommend you to install this particular camera just to get rid of flickering.

Anonymous said:

Hello! First of great content! Always been a fan! I was wondering if you could give a bit of advice with hood deco, I have downloaded an Ocean floor from Gwenke, and in lot view it only shows up at the very far edges, around my lot it is missing (it does show when render is set to small though). And it shows on beach lots too, I was wondering if you know of way to make it so that it is seen no matter what the view distance is etc? (I have the relevant cheats on btw) Thank you in advance!

Hey nonnie! Thanks :) Have you ticked off object hiding in the settings? Other than that, it could be camera issues.

Anonymous said:

is there a way to stop neighborhood decor from fading? I know there is the „boolprop dontmergenhflora“ cheat, but I still get some fading. for excample when I look at the lot from the street the NH decor by the street fades

That’s definitely sounds like object hiding option from the game settings :}

Anonymous said:

Hey how are you ? I hope all is well. I was wondering how is it that ts2 has no ski deco but in ts1 we had ski slope and skate lake !?? I was wondering can you and the sim community make deco or interactive items such as a ski slope or even snow shoes or just something that goes with seasons n BV pack ?

Hello anon! I hope you’re well too! Ski slope and winter sports related decos is something I wanted to make since 2016, but never had enough time to do so. Sometimes I even think about available TS2 technologies to make an animated ski lift and umm.. may be in the next ten years? ^^’‘

Anonymous said:

hello!! i'm sorry if u already answered something like this (i searched but found nothing) but the better nightlife isn't working for me :(( i put the better nightlife+voielle water on download fold and the decorations still flashing in pink light, i did something wrong? (i use win10) sorry for the inconveniente

Hey anon! Sometimes you have to do these weird steps in order to make it work:

remove Better Nightlife + water mod from your downloads folder,

load the game, load the neighborhood, make some changes, exit game

put Better Nightlife with water back. Toggle day/night with ‘L’ key to see if it works. If it’s not, than the problem is somewhere else. Pink flashing also could be unrelated to Better Nightlife, so I’d recommend to check TS2 graphics setting for Win10 manuals available.

Anonymous said:

Hello there, I'm having a problem with the rural charm, on lot view the roads have yellowish boards (idk how to explain exactly). I saw that was because of CuriousB terrain, but I don't have it downloaded anymore so I'm kinda confused. What should it be? Sorry for bothering,,,

Hello, anon! What’s current season you’re having in your game? It can be the season lighting differences that make roadside and terrain grass colors different. If it’s not, I’d check the Downloads folder to see if there’s still some terrain DRs I’ve forgot about.

@pinkflamingosims said:

Hi criquette! I was wondering if you have any idea why some hood deco cc crashes on mac, like palm 1 to 4 from the tropical 4t2 set by leoz94. Leoz94 says the only difference is the high polycount, but I don't think that's it, it looks a bit high to me but not insanely so, I have  other stuff in that range with no problem... Have a nice - evening?

Hey @pinkflamingosims! I hope you’re doing well! Yes, some hood decos are really make the game crash and frankly speaking, I think that’s jsut package related issues like broken references in the resource tree. The best way to fix this type of hood decos is to make a clean and stable new clone and replace mesh/textures again.

Anonymous said:

Hello and thank you for amazing Feverfew map! I have a problem... ground is flashing red and I cannot fix it, do you have solution for this problem? It's been soooo long when I last played Sims 2 so apparently I did something wrong when installed CC. :(

Hello anon! Thank you! Oh, red flashing could be the result of lighting mod not being installed correctly. I’d start with getting rid of any lighting mods to see if it helps.

@marv61​ said:

Hi Criquette. I just downloaded your terrain of Forkshire, it looks great! I know it has been since 2009 that you uploaded the terrain but I was wondering if you have a completed Neighborhood with houses, trees and all for download? I would love to play your version. Thanks.

Hi Patchman! Oh, goodness no! :D That was 12 years ago, those TS2 files are long gone since then.

Anonymous said:

Hi Criquette, first things first, I love your work thank you so much, you inspire me! Now the question: I have been using the dirt roads from your Rural Lanes set and found that sometimes it is difficult if not impossible to fit them to the slopes of steep terrain. Would it be possible to instead create road pieces as a texture like your Neighborhood Decals? That way they would "stick" onto the terrain regardless of shape. Wondering what you think? Love!

Hello and thank you, anon! The problem with the decals – we can’t see it in lot mode yet. And it must be a DR only so we’d have to ditch one of the Maxis’ decals for dirt road, which isn’t great too.

Anonymous said:

Hi Criquette! Will Betternightlife mod ever be updated to work with lighting mods with dawn and dusk? Is there any that already works with it? I really want to use the light up hood decos!

Hey anon! You can use it with lighting mods that add dusk and dawn to the game. For instance, there’s one here by @dreadpirate​.

Anonymous said:

Hey Criquette! I recently used your template to make lit-up hood deco buildings using the Better Nightlife mod. The day text was great! However, the night texture was being clipped by the day texture. That is, some parts of the day texture was showing through the night texture. Is there a fix for this?

Hello nonnie! I’d recommend to check the meshes to see if day/night parts clip through each other and if they aren’t I’d check if all the day/night TXMT data is correct.

@criquette​ said:

I've installed Fewerfew following all your istructions. Apparently it works but the night lamps are flashing pink even ig I've installed the mod better night light. It seems that this mod does not work properly. Any recommendation?

Being Criquette, you should know the solution to that issue yourself :P Just kidding, sorry, couldn’t resist! If it flashes pink only by night than you have to check your ‘Downloads’ folder for conflicts. If it’s flashing constantly day and night, than I’d better check graphics setting using some windows related guides available across the Internet.

Anonymous said:

Hello, I love Feverfew and it's amazing. I have a problem where Linden Tree 1A isn't showing up in my game even though it's in my downloads folder. Also the railroad tracks are flashing blue, and those are in my folder too. Thanks in advance!  :)

Hello anon! What type of the trees you’re using? Stand alone or default ones? If you’re using defaults, you can find the trees under Maxi’s oaks accordingly. As for the flashing blue railway tracks, check if you have this set in your ‘Downloads’ folder :)

Anonymous said:

Hello Criquette, before asking for help, I came to say that the Brazilian community loves your creations. But, to get to the point, anyway, I have been thinking about creating a Hood (inspired by Rio de Janeiro), so I would like to know how to create Deco Hoods for my game (the statue of Christ), I can't find that anywhere, Would you help me?

Hi there! Ah, most kind, thank you ^^ Well, there’s no big deal in creating hood decos. You have to switch your SimPE to advanced mode and after that neighborhood decoration will be visible in the catalogue to be cloned. I assume you already know how to make lot mode objects and know how to create, edit or convert meshes/textures though.

@hideshio​ said:

Hello! I found your train set (and it's AMAZING) on mts and was wondering if you had a railroad crossing sign? With the lights, X, and the red/white hand that goes down. Or the lights that go across a pole above the railroads. Thank you!  =D

Hello @hideshio​! Well, there is a railway crossing sign with lights and red/white hand included in this set :D it’s not animated though. But still!

Anonymous said:

Hi criquette, I’m a huge admirer of you work and I was wondering if you had any advice regarding road placement. Specifically the difficulty of road pieces that are deco only being able to be placed underneath the actually roads leaving it looking a little off.. if there a way to raise them higher before placing them or some kind of work around? 

Hey anon, thank you! Unfortunately, there’s no way to make decorative road pieces work for lot mode and neighborhood mode at the same time. If you lift them so they look okay in hood mode, they will float in the air in lot mode. Since my latest creations are lot mode oriented, I’ve decided to save my efforts on making road pieces even with neigborhood mode roads.

Anonymous said:

Hey Criquette. I noticed that in my Feverfew none of the buildings across the street of Feverfew Sports Hall show up. I know those are supposed to be hood deco and look like duplex buildings, but I can't figure out what I'm missing. I deleted and redownloaded everything and couldn't fix it. Also the river ends at the first bridge in front of the cathedral, so the boats next to it appear to be flying. What is going on?

Hey anon! There’s definitely some files missing. If you’ve checked and redownloaded all the files, try to replace the Feverfew neighborhood folder with initial one. The game never restores disappeared hood decos by itself. Even if they were placed in the folder after their absence is discovered.

@simping-simmer​ said:

Hi Criquette, am I remembering correctly that there is a trick you can do with SimPE to change the height of individual pieces of hood deco? I’m struggling with putting ships in my dock because if I change a CC ship’s placeability to be able to be on both land and sea, it just sinks, but if I only keep it on sea, it can’t get close enough to the shore to place it in my docks. Does this make sense at all? Lol

Hello @simping-simmer​, you’re absolutely right. You can change the height of placed hood decos via SimPE. Things you need to do are described here and here

Anonymous said:

Hello! I love all your work.  I was wondering if you had ever thought of making some desert roads along the lines of the Terrain Mod: Dusty Roads for Desert Neighbourhoods by Stev84? I love the way this looks in my desert, but unfortunately, this mod makes the road in live mode a floor, which then makes you unable to place driveways.

Hey anon! Thanks ^^ Frankly, I don’t have any plans on creating any desert related CC at all :|

Anonymous said:

Hello Criquette. I would like to thank you for all the amazing work you have done creating content for sims 2. Thanks to you all my projects are possible. My question is: Chainlink fences for neighborhood deco... Do they exist? Searching the web these past day only found for build mode. Do you know of someone who already make some for deco hood? Or kindly will you be able to make some if its not much work? My sports fields and Industrial zones will be pleased for sure! Once again, thank you! :)

Hey anon and thank you! I don’t think hood deco chainlink fences were created by someone yet, but they definitely would be a great addition to the game. I was going to create some while working on Feverfew, but never had enough time to do that. May be i’ll make one at some point in the future!

Anonymous said:

Hello, Criquette. Do you know of any way to place lots without the area around it moving? I downloaded Ousmeo's remake of your Dullsfielde and read his og post using the waytime machine. When viewing that post, Tumblr recommended similar posts, one of which seemed to be a tip to prevent good deco from moving when placing lots nearby, but that post wasn't archived, so I can't visualise it. My guess is that if anyone else knows about this, it must be the best hood decorator that ever was ;-)

Hello anon! Ugh, this TS2 ‘feature’ is driving me mad quite often too! Unfortunately, there’s no easy way to get rid of it. The only way to fix the consequences is to backup initial hood folder and when you finish placing lots, replace spoiled terrain with the initial one with SimPE or HoodReplace.

#replies #answers #asks #Anonymous

[refriedweeb]

Dude can I please ask for some Shinsou with a reader that is really into fashion and has a very ecstatic personality. Like their the complete opposite of him 🥺👉👈. I imagine a scenario where she makes him play sum like dress up and just makes him give opinions on her outfits 😌. Also she is def an alt girl and def drags him around the mall and picks out outfits for him and makes him try them on. He absolutely hates it but the look on her face is too much to not simp for 😌 (continuing this-)

@bagel-bee : Like I just headcanon him to be such an Emo simp for his gf 😌 no matter what kinda person they are❤️ and I’m so sorry I went on a rant there- I have a deep soft spot for him 🥺 so it would mean the world to get headcanons of Shinsou with a fashionista gf or something like that 🥺 thank youuuu ❤️❤️

A/N: okay this is absolutely TRUE and I’m going to have so much fun with this. As someone else who has this sort of personality/approach to fashion/a major soft spot for Shinsou I get u bb.

If you had told Hitoshi that he’d wind up dating a girl who was his complete opposite in most aspects, he would have just rolled his eyes and walked away. Little did he know that a short while after that statement had been made, he’d have met you. His little diva, he liked to call you. In most sense of the word, you and Shinsou wouldn’t have been compatible if you’d written it down on paper. You were bubbly and outgoing, had tons of friends that you loved being able to spend time with. Your disposition was always been cheery. It’d confused him at first, for sure. There’s no way someone is that happy all the time. Before you two had even started dating he’d watch you from his spot in the classroom. And that was when Shinsou had started to realize that a lot of your cheery disposition came from wanting others to be happy too. You wore a lot of broad smiles for other people’s benefit, even if you weren't feeling the happiest yourself.

And that was something that Shinsou had been intrigued by.

You started talking more and more, the two of you like a cat and dog next to one another. Most people didn’t think you’d be friends long, and when you started dating even more people had been surprised that the two of you had anything in common besides your sometimes matching hair (you weren't afraid to experiment with bold colors and even had a fondness of shades of purple much more before you’d met Hitoshi) He’d let you drag him around the mall by the hand, you practically tripping over yourself while he lagged behind, languid strides almost outpacing you despite how you were skittering around in front of him. It’d become something of an outing for the two of you, you eager to look at the new fashions that came with each turn of the season, Shinsou plopped down in one of the chairs outside the fitting room with his chin propped in his hand while you tried on outfit after outfit, awaiting his approval or disapproval based on the small changes in his expression.

Frankly, Hitoshi thought you could wear a ratty old trash bag and still be the cutest person he’d ever seen in his entire life. He’d sit through the fluorescent lights that gave him headaches, held your purse while you combed through racks of deep shades of maroon, black, of army greens that he thought you looked best in. Though his guiltiest pleasure was when you’d put on the colors of baby pinks and lavenders (not that he’d ever tell you that because the power you’d have over him then would be absolute and he’d be helpless to do anything).

And even though he’d grumble about it, pull a stink face the entire time you’d trapped him in it, Shinsou secretly loved it when you pulled him into a dressing room and told him to stay put while you go picked out clothes for him. He was your emo simp boyfriend after all, there were only so many black and white striped long sleeves you could stand to see him in (though he looked just as cuddly and sleepy in every single one when he pulled the sleeves up around his knuckles). Over the time you’d been dating Shinsou, you saw the change in his confidence. He’d stand a little taller in something you bought him for a gift, start to explore his own sense of fashion (though never quite as extensively as yours) and what he liked. He’d always prefer wearing a pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt when lounged around the UA dorms or in your apartment, but he gradually started to care more about what he wore and how he presented himself to the world, especially when he became a pro-hero. 

Some of his favorite memories of your relationship is at the mall in various stores he never cared to learn the names of. That sleepy smirk shifted over his lips each time you yanked back the dress room curtain with a new outfit on that made you look better than the last outfit did (how that was possible, he never figured out). He loved seeing you happy, thriving in an element of your life that you felt most comfortable in. Just like, picture it. Tall, gangly Shinsou that had just recently bulked up during his training with Aizawa, sat back in a chair with his ankle crossed over his knee. Sneakers kind of scuffed, the bottom of his pants cuffed (thanks to you). His head is tilted to the side, indigo eyes fixed on that curtain with the laziest Cheshire Cat grin on his face when it whips back and you’re standing there in a pair of ripped up black pants, a mesh long sleeved top underneath a cropped tank top with the red lettering of devil on the front. He’s tickled with how good you look, and how you put these shows on just for him (not really but he likes to think that sometimes).

However...

Hitoshi’s favorite thing to see you wear isn’t some outfit you tried on while he sat hostage in a chair, though he does appreciate those outfits just the same. His favorite thing for you to wear is something of his, a ratty old t-shirt with his too-big socks on your feet, maybe a pair of his boxers that he’s been missing for sometime (that he doesn’t have the heart to demand back regardless of how many clean pairs he has left). That’s when you look your best. 

#boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha shinso #bnha shinsou #shinsou mha #mha shinso #shinso headcanons #hitoshi shinsou x y/n #shinso x reader #shinso x you #shinsou x you #hitoshi shinsou headcanon #shinsō hitoshi #shinso #hitoshi shinso x reader #purple baby #boku no hero x y/n #boku no hero x you #boku no hero x reader #my hero academia x y/n #my hero academia x you #my hero academia x reader #refried writes #refried answers

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Arranged {1}

Yahya Abdul Mateen II x OFC Nyorie Kane

Warning: Plot

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Yahya is thirty-three, and his friends and family all seem to believe that it is long overdue for him to have a wife. He’s been set up more times than he can count and with his busy schedule and rising Hollywood star, it is becoming even more difficult to meet people, well people who aren’t looking for a come up. In the beginning, he said he didn’t want anything serious; his motto was “I’m was here for a good time not a long time.” Then it became he didn’t want anything that would distract him from where he wanted to go and what he wanted to accomplish. Now that his fame is rising and he’s approaching a sweet spot in his career he decides what the hell the time might be right.

In comes “A Match”, an exclusive matchmaking company run by his best friend Ramel’s wife Tamika. He gives Tamika and Ramel free rein and all his trust to find him, someone, he’d mesh well with. Instead of going through her clientele Tamika has just the right woman in mind, her best friend, Nyorie. Things are done a little unorthodox at “A Match” though. This unconventional route is credited for a near-perfect success rate.

Note: I’ve only tagged those who have expressed to be on a forever tag list. 

****Also, please keep an open mind.

**Loosely Proofread/Edited**

✧*.。:。✧*.:。✧*✧*.。:。✧*.:。✧*✧*.。:。✧*.:。✧*

 Chapter One

  “Man, you not getting any younger. Plus we all know how important family is to you the rate you’re going you not even gonna have one till you fifty,” Ramel said as he came back into the living room with his hands full of food. Ramel stopped in front of the U-shaped sectional and handed out bags to their owners. He stood up and took the cream-colored plastic bag Ramel held out for him.

 “I don’t know how many times you’re going to keep saying this.”

 “As many times as need be. I mean really, is uncle Ya good enough bruh?”

 He pulled out the containers of food and thought about Ramel’s words for a few moments. He loved being uncle Ya, loved picking his niece Havea and nephew Rami up for their biweekly ice-cream and bowling night. He loved showing up to their school functions and trips to Disney and tagging along to kid movie premiers. He wouldn’t change anything about it.

“Look man, I know you love my kids. What’s not to love? I also know you want kids of your own. You can’t have that continuing on the way you are,” Ramel drilled home.

 He knew it. Truthfully, he’d been mulling the pros and cons over for months. Ramel wasn’t the only one in his life badgering him like this. His mother, sisters, and brother were all on his case too. His mother liked to pile on the guilt asking him when she’d get a grandchild and when she’d get to see him walk down the aisle and made it no secret she was praying for it before she died. What the hell was he to say to that?

 “Not everybody wanna be married Mel, you got half the squad on that ball and chain shit leave him alone,” Rashawn blurted out. The four of them laughed loudly. Normally they’d be keeping it down because of the kids but they were at a sleepover, so they were free to be as loud as they wanted.

 “Man, shut up. He the last one. Your ass bout to be on that ball and chain shit too. One-week fool,” Ramel added.

 “You don’t have to remind me. Torri has the house filled with everything wedding related. Man, this week needs to hurry up so we can get back to real life.”

 He leaned back and focused on his food. He was the last one in the group still single. The last one of the four musketeers, the lone wolf. It didn’t bother him before; it was just the way it was. Now—he wouldn’t focus on it, not now.

 They continued to watch the basketball game and talk like they always did when they got together. They’d been friends for a long time, and he valued their friendship and advice. He trusted them with everything and would always have their backs as he knew the same was true for them.

 Rashawn desperately stayed away from all and any talk about his wedding to Torri. He acted like he’d been caroused into the wedding when everyone knew damn well he was stupid in love and cried through the proposal. Ramel assumed the role of loudmouth big brother pretending like he knew everything; it was a role he’d played for most of their friendship. Tyrell didn’t pretend to not be the hopelessly devoted husband he was to Dacia; he was the one who was always caught texting her and secretly face-timing her during guys night out. When they got together, a lot of fun and a lot of shit-talking always happened and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

 By the time the game ended, the food finished, and Tamika came home it was close to two in the morning. Ramel wasted no time kicking everyone out when he saw how inebriated Tamika was.

 “Y’all don’t have to go home, but you got to get the hell up outta here. My woman is drunk, we got no kids for the night, some freaky shit bout to go down!”

 They all rolled their eyes and quickly began gathering their things.

 “How freaky?” He looked back to see Tamika crook her pointer and wiggle it to Ramel who smiled but pushed her hand down trying to hide her finger. He knew they were into some freaky shit and he did not need the details or the visuals.

 “Imma head out. I have an early day later anyway. Stay up man,” he said and went around the group giving each of them their handshake.

 “Think about what I said burh. We here for you,” Ramel finished. He nodded and walked over to Tamika and gave her a kiss on the cheek before he walked out the door to his car in the rounded driveway.

 The drive back to his house was a quick and quiet one. When he got home he showered and used the rest of his awake time to prep for the coming day. He knew it would be a long one.

  -The Next Day-

 Just as expected the day stretched on and on. He got maybe two hours of sleep before he was out of the house and on a set for a photoshoot. That shoot went on for eight hours, then he was off to a string of interviews then two meetings and yet another photoshoot.

 It was now close to one in the morning and they were just getting their last shots. He was exhausted. he knew this came with the territory. If he wanted to act he had to be okay with photoshoots, interviews, paparazzi, and everything else that came with fame. Some days it was a tough pill to swallow and he wondered what it would have been to continue on in architecture, and others he took it in stride and piled more onto his plate. Today was a mix of both.

 “All right Yahya, thank you that’s a wrap,” the photographer called out. He nodded and went around shaking hands with everyone who worked the shoot. A woman with dirty blond hair approached him with a wide smile.

 “I am such a fan, Yahya. I loved you in Aquaman.” He graciously smiled and thanked her. She bit her bottom lip and gave him a look he knew wasn’t strictly friendly. “Can I have a picture?”

 “Sure. No problem,” he cautiously responded as he stepped beside her and waited for her to angle her phone just right.

 “Say Black Manta.” He smiled at her request and held up his peace fingers. Once the photo was taken she turned to him again and thanked him.

 “Look, I know this is forward and normally I wouldn’t do this but it’s 2020, I’m gonna shoot my shot.” She held out a piece of paper to him and he could see a phone number scribbled across it.

 “This is my number. No pressure to use it, just—if you want to use it, I’d answer, and we could hang out.”

 She was attractive, he wasn’t going to deny that. Her skin reminded him of smooth chestnut. Coupled with the color of her hair she was a beautiful woman. He was just leery of her motives. Ninety percent of the women he’d met since his breakout roles all had ulterior motives.  Most just wanted to be seen out with him so the rumor mill could start circulating and give them their fifteen minutes. He wasn’t with that. That was the one thing about his newfound fame. He never knew what anyone wanted from him anymore.

 “Uh--.” He was speechless. He didn’t want to embarrass her by rejecting her, so he took the paper and nodded. “Thank—you.”

 She smiled and again bite her bottom lip. “Okay, great. See you around.” She walked off leaving him to look down at the paper with her name and number. “Thalia-954-389-3048.” She’d dotted her I with a star. It bothered him and he didn’t know why. He stuffed the paper in his pocket resolved in his decision not to take it there.  He didn’t have the time or energy to sift through the sea of clout chasers.

 He quickly finished up, got his things and left. He’d missed his workout for the day and needed to get one in. every little bit helped especially with him trying to get into Matrix shape.

 Luckily his trainer was up and was able to meet him at the gym to train. A few reps on the treadmill, another couple sets of weights, then some time on the bar and finally a brutal boxing session rounded out the hour and fifteen-minute rotation. By the end of it, he was dripping sweat and ready to just drop in bed which is just what he did. 

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

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

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

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#arranged fic #yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya abdul mateen ii fanfiction #Yahya Abdul Mateen ii x reader #Yahya Abdul Mateen ii x you #Yahya Abdul Mateen ii x black reader #black fanfiction #slow burn fanfic

[snowpeawritings]

Hi, long time lurker here requesting for the first time! Can I have scenarios (or headcanons if not possible) of Ren/Akira seriously trying to win back his S/O after borderline-cheating on her (with either Ann or Makoto)? If you could really play up the hurt/comfort factor, that would be great--I'm kind of a sucker for those. Thank you so much!

this got too long who o ps. consider it as thanks for keeping up with my super long hiatus!

Reader is female

CW (CONTENT WARNING): Swearing

12:00 PM: I’m here at LeBlanc, where are u?

12:30 PM: How long do u have to take to get ready? U must be worse than me lmao

12:53 PM: Srsly where tf r u

1:00 PM: Ur not even in ur room so what the shit akira

             Where are you????

1:38 PM: Oi

  Oi

 Oi

 Oi

 Oi

 Oi

 Oi

You started a call with 💍Darling♥️💍

← Oct 24 at 2:00 PM

Call ended at 2:32 PM

“Not even a seen…” You muttered to yourself as the call ended when you pressed the close button. Wait for as long as you could, it felt like your spam messages aren’t getting through to him. You placed your phone on the counter and sighed, leaning on the counter with your chin propped on your hands. The cafe droned away with only an elderly couple talking and the TV going on with the news.

You clutched your stomach when it was growling. You were supposed to meet with Akira and eat at a cute cafe that just opened in Akihabara but that was supposed to be two hours ago. Sojiro’s curry has never felt more appetizing than it was now.

Speaking of curry, the aroma of the trademark food was stronger than before. You looked down and blinked when you spotted a dish of freshly cooked curry together with a spoon that seemed to have your name engraved on it.

“You looked like you needed it.” A deep voice said in front of you. You looked up to see Sojiro leaning on the counter, a slight tilt on the corner of his lips that seemed like a tiny grin.

Letting a smile cross your face, you thanked the man as you picked up the spoon and dug on the curry. When the flavor hits your tongue, you let out a happy groan of approval when the spices meshed together beautifully in your mouth. For a moment, you forgot what you were even waiting for in Leblanc

“That hungry huh?” He said dryly, raising a brow. “I thought that young girls like you are conscious of eating too much?”

You covered your mouth before speaking. “Me and Akira were supposed to eat somewhere else for lunch so I thought I shouldn’t eat anything.”

With that in mind, you looked down at your almost finished plate, suddenly feeling sick. “Guess that went wrong, huh?”

It wasn’t that the idea of Akira ditching you made you squirm, it was the fact that this was repetitive. You understood that his school work was tiring, but it shouldn’t be so bad as to cancelling dates at the last second for three weeks?

This was too much for you to handle.

You didn’t even realize that Sojiro had his hand on your shoulder, a comforting action that you thanked the man for.

“Well, I know that I’m not much for good company,” He started, “but maybe I can help you feel less lonely.”

Feeling that he wouldn’t take no for an answer, you nodded and began to tell him about whatever topic you could come up with. As time goes on, Akira was the farthest on your mind as you were pleasantly surprised that Sojiro could keep up with you… not that you had any doubt that the old coot is stronger than you in some way.

Sojiro had bidden you goodbye as you exited the cafe. He would’ve walked with you to make sure you were safe but he had to keep the cafe in check despite being the night. He cleaned the plate of your curry (“Free of charge. Don’t wanna charge a lonely lady.”), the sound of water running on the dirty dishes was a calming noise to him as the stress of today’s work flown by. The TV continued on endlessly with the news, the hype of the Phantom Thieves, the sudden hate for the police, and whatever politics that left Sojiro a sour taste in his mouth. He counted the tasks in his head; after washing the dishes, he should turn off the TV and count the bills that he was slightly behind and then—

“Sojiro, I’m home.”

—He should buy some cat food since he doesn’t know why that boy kept the cat in his bag when he goes out. The kid himself walked in with Morgana not-so covertly hiding as he set his bag on the table and stretched his back. An audible crack followed with.

“So where have you been?” Sojiro asked him.

He wasn’t the type to ask him about how his day went but when he remembers your nearly crying face, he had to know.

Akira blinked, looking as though he as well find the question surprising. “I’ve been at my part-time job, the flower shop at the underground mall. Like a law-abiding citizen.”

The slight cheek at the end didn’t went unnoticed. Sojiro blames himself to show the kid his snark. “Check your phone.”

Akira wordlessly drew his phone from his pocket and raised his brow at the sudden influx of message notifications and a missed call. He unlocked his phone and tapped the messenger app. To his horror, he saw your messages and he winced at the different timestamps.

“Judging by that wince of yours, you didn’t even notice your phone going off.” Sojiro concluded, mouth turning into a frown each passing second. “Poor girl had to wait for hours just waiting for you to show up.”

From behind Akira, he heard Morgana seethed through his teeth. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Akira did was incredibly idiotic.

“I-I was too busy.” Akira excused quickly. “So I didn’t notice.”

Sojiro clicked his tongue, his patience wavering a little bit. “Like hell you do. You keep talking to her on the phone like it’s the end of the world the moment you let it go. There’s no way that you can miss her calls.”

Yells of his teammates flashed in his mind, the sounds of spells casting out was fresh as the bruises on his skin were beginning to burn. Akira turned his head away from Sojiro’s scrutinizing stare, feeling like he was back at the questioning room. He wasn’t ready for this.

“Well, whatever the hell you did, it made her upset.” Sojiro said, giving up when Akira wouldn’t give a direct answer. “Meet her in person, fix this goddamn relationship of yours and prove that you’re not just another punk.”

If it were any other time, Akira would’ve joked that Sojiro’s words were the most comforting ones that could ever come out of his mouth. But he bit his cheek and nodded, making a mental note to cancel all Phantom Thief meetings for the next week.

You looked at the ‘Seen at 8:52 PM’ and wondered if Akira might be having second thoughts about your relationship.

He didn’t even let you know what he thinks when he saw your onslaught of messages. Then again, maybe he didn’t because he gave you space (which worked… for a while until you lost sleep wondering why the hell did he only seen it). You did recall that he had a part-time job but you were pretty sure that job didn’t take that long.

Not unless he had another activity to go afterwards…

Eyes only focused on the screen, you didn’t notice a familiar figure right in front of your desk. Slim hands covered your own as black hair tickled your forehead.

“Hey.”

As much as comforting his voice could be, you didn’t want to even look at his slate eyes. You kept your head down but didn’t bother to remove his hands. He seemed to catch this, however, as he slowly pried your phone away and cupped your hands in his.

“Please, let me explain.”

He was persistent, a trait in which you both hated and loved. You were biased on his persistence that made him worm through your walls and eventually into your heart.

Letting out a sigh, you lifted your head to meet his eyes. Slate eyes that seemingly dripped with a million apologies. If this didn’t happened before, you would’ve apologized to him instead.

“This isn’t the first time, Kurusu.” You whispered. “You know that, don’t you?”

He sighed out through his nose. “I know and I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“And you better not be wasting it this time.”

He winced, but regained his composure. “I know I messed up but I had a lot to go through and I forgot the time and then—”

Akira paused when he saw your scowl. “My reasons aren’t getting to you, are they?”

You raised your brow.

He sighed, standing up to his full height but still held a grasp on your hands. “Look, I would tell you about my reasons but… I really can’t.”

“Don’t you think that it’s a great time to tell them?” You said dryly.

His mouth suddenly went dry. “I—”

“Save it.” You spat, getting your hands back from him as you glared at his agape expression. “I can’t stop you from whatever it is you do, but you’d think to spare some time for your girlfriend after the first argument?”

Your little outburst garnered a bit of attention from the class so you covered your face with your hands and groaned. “Just please leave me alone.”

You didn’t hear him say anything else but you did hear footsteps slowly receding until they were gone. Letting your head fall down on your desk, you groaned out once more as you felt your eyes water.

If you can’t go to that cafe in Akihabara, then you might as well go their yourself.

The district was teeming with electronic media that it made your eyes hurt from the lights. Not only that, but there were so many cosplayers and anime fanatics that you had to steer clear from. But not matter what the distractions, you were going to eat there and it’s totally not that you were hungry for the cute animal-shaped food.

Spotting the pastel-colored building, you sped up your pace. Your stomach was already growling and the display of foods on the window is making it more prominent. The Rilakkuma-shaped omurice is enticing, but then again the Anpanman bread is super cute as well…

Before you could even decide, you spotted a familiar mop of black hair at the corner of your eye. You would’ve disregarded it but seeing the head of a black cat pop out of its bag was enough to send you reeling.

The person soon disappeared into the crowds. You debated for a while, thinking whether to follow the person or not but the one who was behind you was beginning to pester you on why you weren’t moving.

With a sigh, you ran away from the restaurant and followed the person. You apologized to every person you’ve bumped into, keeping the black-haired person in your sights. Huffing at how fast this person is going, you might as well be chasing Ryuji who removed his hair dye. Still, no one had black hair that curly.

Luckily you were beginning to walk into an open area; an electronics street that not a lot of people visited. Your head craned around for the person, hoping to see them once more for a good look.

Yet like magic, the person appeared in front of an electronics store, with a smaller woman standing next to him–

Oh.

Suddenly you weren’t feeling so good.

The image of Akira and Makoto together had crushed your insides.

Akira’s habit of staring down at his phone would probably worsen his eyesight.

The strings of messages he’d sent to you went completely unnoticed. Even when he went home after working in the airsoft shop, you didn’t even drop a seen. Maybe he really did screw it up this time.

Setting his bag down on his desk, Morgana leaped out from the bag and stretched his legs. The cat soon caught on with his leader’s attitude. “Is it your lady again?”

Akira took a cursory glance at his feline companion before looking back down at his phone. It didn’t take much for the cat to make a guess.

“I know that we’ve been busy with the whole Phantom Thieves but you know we’re already at a big risk if more people know about us.”

Akira scoffed, looking indignantly at the cat. “You didn’t say anything when Kawakami and Yoshida found out.”

Morgana winced at his words, knowing that among the non-Phantom Thief confidants he’s made already knew of his secrets. “Well… they’re different! They provide valuable assets for the team unlike her!”

“She’s valuable to me.” Akira cut him off. “She’s been there for me despite my records, despite getting the same backlash as I have.”

The phone stared back at him, the hint of his reflection showing his solemn expression. “She makes me happy.”

Morgana sighed through his nose. This was troubling his leader far more than he realized. If this continues on, it would eat Akira from the inside, thus making missions in the Metaverse absolute hell if their leader isn’t in the game.

Sometimes, he loathes being the only sane one in the group.

Before he could even utter his sentiments, a booming voice echoed from downstairs, a voice that both of them never heard being uttered from their caretaker.

“AKIRA!” Sojiro’s voice boomed. “Get your ass in here and start explaining!”

The teen turned to Morgana who had the same shocked expression on his face. Wordlessly, Akira stood up and went downstairs, Morgana following suite. When Akira went downstairs, he saw Sojiro leaning against the counter, a piece of something in his fist and his foot tapping impatiently. His face was twisted in a snarl which twisted even more when he saw Akira come downstairs.

He was afraid to ask but he was probably in shit’s creek already. “Is there something wrong, Sojiro?”

The man didn’t respond at first, letting his angered breathing permeate the room before stomping up to Akira and shoving the object at his chest.

“You’re in deep shit.” He said lowly. “I don’t what the hell were you thinking but you’ve messed up big time.”

He brushed off the pain blooming in his chest from Sojiro’s shove before looking down at the object. The pain soon blossomed into a weight that crushed his heart.

The promise ring that he’s given you was in his hands.

“So that’s it, huh?”

Makoto furrowed her brow when she saw her leader hung his head down. Not once in her life did she ever see the confident Joker look so depressed. His bloodshot eyes were a stark contrast against the bags under his eyes as his glasses were more smudged than ever. Even if she’d given him a cloth to wipe his glasses, she wonders if he didn’t try to remove them when he wiped his tears.

“If I had known this had come to this, I would’ve stopped asking you to come with me when we were checking on one of the students.”

He didn’t say anything, opting to bang his head against the table as he sighed. Maybe the school council room wasn’t best place to conduct a relationship counselling but it was better than anywhere else.

“I don’t know much about you and her, much less relationships in general but I feel guilty for making her leave you.” Makoto said to him. “I’m going to help you get back together with her. No matter what.”

Akira lifted his head and Makoto had to suppress a wince when he looked more miserable like that. “Thanks… I have a plan… and I need your help.”

Makoto Niijima changed in a few weeks and you don’t know whether you liked it or you envied it.

Somehow she grew more confident in the time of the Kaneshiro incident. She was more assertive, more outgoing, more open to helping her fellow students without backing down from her own sense of justice.

That type of confidence is something that you wanted to have. Maybe then Akira would’ve stayed with you.

Speaking of the student council president, you now stared back at the brunette as she warmly smiled.

“Sorry to bother you like this,” She said your name, “but is it okay if you would come to the student council room after school?”

You crossed your arms, not particularly liking where this is going. “For what reason, may I ask?”

She still kept her smile. “You’re not in trouble or anything. It’s just that there are a lot of victims of the Kaneshiro incident that left students in debt. I want to ask them whether they were affected or not so I can ensure that they would be alright.”

You can’t really deny that. A lot of your classmates were victims of the case and even when you pressed them, they would just brush you off. Maybe they didn’t want to involve you in their problems or that you were the girlfriend of Akira. Maybe both.

Letting out a sigh, you nodded at her. When she thanked you, you swore you saw her eyes crinkle with excitement.

Soon, the school bell rang as you packed up your things. Remembering that you had a meeting with Makoto, you begrudgingly went to the room. Maybe if you ditched the meeting, you wouldn’t sock her teeth in everytime the image of her and Akira together pops up in your mind but it just wouldn’t sit right by your morality.

Reaching at the doors, you slid them open and entered. “Niijima-senpai? I’m here.”

You looked around the room before your eyes landed on a figure you never wanted to see. Before you could escape, an audible click resounded behind you as you tried to move the now-locked doors.

“Sorry!” Makoto’s voice echoed behind them. “But it’s for yours and his own good!”

Akira now stood in front of you, his lips pursed into a thin line. He wasn’t looking like his usual, trickster self with his sunken face but your anger clouded that.

“What the shit, dude.” You spat, not even bothering to hide your annoyance.

Akira didn’t say anything. From the corner of your eye, you noticed that he had something in his hand but you didn’t say anything. Not until your anger subsides which will possibly never happen.

Before you could say anything else, he took your hands in his and held them close to his chest. “Whatever you saw, whatever people said to you, they don’t mean anything.”

Your eyes widened when his voice cracked at the end. His original bloodshot eyes were beginning to go redder with each tear rolling down. You never saw this side of him.

“Please…” He whimpered. “Don’t leave me, please. In my time here at Shojin, you were my source of happiness when life brought me down. You made me so happy that I never wanted to let you go…”

His body racked with sobs and soon you felt his tears hit on your face as he let out a pained gasp. You couldn’t even blink, fearing that he might really break down if you turned away from him.

Your back hit the door softly, letting Akira lean on your forehead before sinking down with each passing plea. He had his head on your chest when you felt your own tears forming. Akira didn’t seem to notice you crying, his knees giving away until he was kneeling in front of you, crying in your hands. You felt tears and snot on your hands but you were sure that you weren’t faring better.

“I l-love you t-too much…!” He rasped out, letting go of your hands and instead wrapped his arms around your waist, his head on your stomach. “Don’t leave m-me, please!”

At this point, your sobs were joining with his in the student council room. Without even thinking, you knelt down in front of him and hugged him back. The sight was messy and no one probably noticed Makoto leaving the door unlocked when she heard her leader’s cries.

Throughout the episode, the ring in Akira’s hand felt lighter when you forgave him.

#this is like 10 pages in my docs holyyy #BUT IM DONE #requests #scenario #persona #persona imagines #persona 5 imagines #akira kurusu #akira kurusu x reader #akira kurusu imagines

[nolan-sims]

>>> Sweet Messages, TOU, Requests, CC Help, Giveaway Q’s, etc.

@tinyfrostedfinds: Hi. ❤️ I like your sim style, and your Custom Content! You are very sweet too. I hope you have a fantastic day or night! ❤️

@wild-pixel: Your edits are so pretty!!!

@wild-pixel: Send this to 10 simblrs you want to know how much you love and appreciate their content!! 💕💕💕💕 don’t break the chain!!! :D

Anon: hey it's fine if you don't answer this but I just wanted to tell you that your cc is beautiful regarding quality, style, and detail. you also seem like a very kind down-to-earth person and I appreciate that. that's all. bye.

To reply to all 4 asks: Thank you so, so, SO much! Messages like these really make my day & help to remind me that the this community is full of kind people. Seriously, thank you-- you’re all so sweet ❤️❤️❤️

Anon: hey, I wanted to ask, if i recoloured some of your hairs, would you be okay with me including the mesh? It didn't specify in your TOU so i wanted to check! Thank you so so much

Oh, thanks for asking! I should probably add that to my TOU because I’d rather my meshes not be included-- I’ve edited it to reflect that 😁 

Anon: no shade or anything, and of course i respect your tou! but why is including the mesh such a big deal for many people? like what changes for the creator when proper credit is given?

I think it comes down to personal preference & being credited for your work. Not everyone is courteous & links back to the original creation or gives credit, which is unfortunate, so disallowing inclusion of the mesh is usually a surefire way of making sure credit is given. Well, that’s how I treat it, anyway. 

As a sidenote: 9 times out of 10 if someone wants to edit my content, etc. I almost always say yes, so don’t be afraid to ask! 

Anon: Ahh will u please upload the sims from that moschino pack pic? Love them ❤️

Hey there, Anon! I’m not really into making CC lists & such, so I most likely won’t. But, if you’re interested in other Sims of mine, you can download them here. (The page still needs to be updated, but all of the links still work)

Anon: Hi. Can you make your Lavellan braids hair a bit longer in the front and back(not too long maybe mid back/upper chest length)?

Anon: would you ever consider making a "mom jean" version of your trill jean set? yours are the only cc jeans i can stand, but i wish i had some that were not so tight-legged!

To answer both asks: I’m actually quite happy with both of these items & probably won’t be revisiting them anytime soon. Buuut... maybe once I finish pending CC requests from my Patrons, I might be able to take a look back at older content. But for now, it isn’t much of a possibility. 

Anon: Hi, do you know where I can find any cas preset for download of the dragon age characters? I cant make mine resembling them :(

I would check the Gallery!

Anon: hi! its a long shot but youre one of the best cc makers i follow and i’m making recolors of the get famous furniture, and i was wondering if you knew a way to get rid of that weird shine on the flur’s sofa and the other matching furniture? i was going for a more matte fabric look and the shine in game is really throwing me off.

Hey there & sorry for such a late reply. If you edit or remove the spec map, it should fix your problem. You can find more information on what a spec map is/how it works here & here. Good luck CC creating~!

Anon: Hello, I seem to be having a problem with your goddess dreads and braids! In S4S, they appear just fine, but when I try to use them in CAS, the black-box-and-question-mark grid appears all over the sim. Funny part is, the hair also appears. The mesh and colors are there, but so is that awful grid. Any ideas on what's going on, or if it's just me? Thank you!

Anon: Swettie, your hair Goddess Dreads is showing an error in game. I cant wear it. It shows all black with red eyes and a question mark on the forehead

To answer both asks: Do you have the original mesh in your game as well? That may be your issue 😊 Let me know if that’s it– if not, i’ll see what I can do to fix it. Thanks!

Anon: Hi! I wanted to ask, are you going to update your oh my sims icon overhaul with moschino stuff? thank you in advance!

Here ya go! ✨

Anon: do we also need to reblog the giveaway-post to enter?

Nope! You don’t have to follow, reblog, etc. Everything you need to know is written in the rules, so make sure you read them 😊💕

#replies #nonsims #non sims #wild-pixel #tinyfrostedfinds #anon #anonymous #long post #includes previously posted replies

[kieraplaysthesims]

Beatrix Straud

What did you dream about last night? Last night I dreamt one of my most common dreams. I’m a little girl again and I am looking out the window of my father’s study and I see a tornado coming across the field. The dream ends as I run into the sitting room and dive under the couch.

What is your favorite color? My favorite color is a dark green, like a pine color.

Do you feel more connected to the moon or the sun? The moon guides my magic.

Have you ever wished on a shooting star? *Laughs* I can make my own wishes come true thank you very much.

Name a movie that makes you genuinely laugh. Cry Baby is hilarious. And who doesn’t love early Johnny Depp?

When’s the last time you felt like you were floating? Well I do ride a broom on a regular basis.

What do you enjoy daydreaming about most? The love of my life of course.

Do you believe in guardian angels? There is no after life.

What’s a smell that reminds you of home? You’re gonna judge me...but I grew up on a farm. Every time I smell manure I get home sick. It makes me really miss my father and sisters.

What is something (or someone) you’re in love with? Vlad of course.

Describe the memory of the last time you felt true happiness.

Name a song that makes you feel ethereal. Anything by Fleetwood Mac

What’s your ideal summer aesthetic? I love spending my summer days tanning under the tree out on the edge of the cliff bordering Forgotten Hollow

Talk about one of your most cherished childhood memories. I grew up on a farm with my four sisters and my father. He tried. HARD. But it was a struggle. One cold winter day, we were all laying around the house and my dad opened the front door and started throwing snow balls at us, so we opened the back door and started throwing them back and had a snowball fight, in the house.

Talk about something exciting or good that happened to you this year. Jinx got accepted to Foxbury and Ophelia to Britechester U. It warms my heart that my babies are going to be living in the town their father and I met in. 

Where do you feel most at home? In my garden in the cellar. I have rooms upon rooms of plants that I took seeds from my childhood home and planted here.

What is something you own that is important to you? What makes it so important? I never wear it because I don’t want it to be ruined or lost. But I have this locket of my mothers. My father has no idea who the pictures are of, but it is a little piece of her that I can keep with me wherever I go.

Do you believe dreams have meanings or are they completely random? I feel like they have some real life basis but that that is really it.

Do you believe in love at first sight? No... you can’t truly love someone until you know them. If your love languages don’t mesh, how will you be able to give and receive love to each other?

What’s the sweetest thing someone has done for you? Right after I had given birth to the twins, we had had a ceremony in the forest where they were born. My whole coven was there and Vlad was sort of frustrated. He didn’t understand at all. But as soon as they were born, he was there tending to my every need. We did hospital births for the rest of the kids.

Do you believe in mermaids? Obviously, I’ve never been to Sulani, but there are details of them in books I studied growing up.

What do you like most about nature? Every part of it, nature is ingrained in every fiber of my being.

What’s your zodiac sign? Do you think you fit the general characteristics of that sign? I’m an Aries and I’m every bit the leader it tells me I should be.

Are you more of a hopeless romantic or realist? Both? I guess because I met my soulmate at such a young age that the realist part never set in when it comes to love.

What’s a song that gives off good vibes anytime you listen to it? Here Comes the Sun

Do you usually remember your dreams? Just the one and my nightmares

Have you ever written a love letter? In high school I had a crush on this warlock. He came from a strong bloodline and just had this massive ego. Looking back I have no idea why I adored him so much, but I did. Well, for Valentine’s day the one year, I wrote him a love letter and signed it anonymously and slipped it into his locker. He thought it was hilarious and showed all of his friends and I cried for days.

Name a book you don’t mind reading over and over. I have a soft spot for the Judy Blume books of my childhood.

Do you collect anything? And what are some hobbies you have? I love to garden and collect different types of frogs and gems for my potions.

What do you do to feel at peace? I retreat to my cellar greenhouse and just bury my hands in the soil.

#beatrix straud

[okaywhateverokayyes]

Dichotomy

So I’m bringing this back because I have no clue when, or if, I’ll ever write again BUT, I’m here for the Deran and Adrian direction that is being taken this season-KIND OF, maybe. 

Summary: (Pre-season 1. This is me trying to show the ways that Deran cares about Adrian. In his own way)

It’s 2 in the morning.

He stirrs from his sleep when he gets the call.

There’s ragged breathing, some low growls and he almost goes to switch his phone off when Craig’s voice stops him.

“Dude.” Craig sounds hurried. Deran lifted his head up, had his elbow pressed into the pillow for leveling as he pressed the phone against his ear.

There’s silence on the other end. But not really. He heard a lot of shuffling, sounded like a cart was reeling-and maybe it was. But he pushed it aside when the ragged breathing picks up. Soon, there’s a low grunt and Deran had to blink his eyes when Baz’s voice replaced Craig’s.

“Deran. Get to the hospital.”

Deran rubbed at his eyes.

“What.” He muttered, “What. Why?”

Baz is mumbling as Deran takes the moment to flip over. He swipes his hand against his forehead when he’s met with static silence.

For fuck’ sake.

“Alright, I’m gonna hang u-“

“It’s Adrian. Get to the hospital.”

Suddenly, he’s awake.

Alert.

Every nerve in his body felt like they were on flames.

“What about him?” Deran has to grip onto the sheets as he lowly asks, when all he wants to do is scream into the phone. There’s this sense of urgency he feels that causes him to lift the covers up and over his body.

“Just bruised up. It looks bad but I just think he broke his nose. Makes sense why there’s all that blood,” Baz’s voice sounds distant, “They’re checking him out now. Just get to the hospital alright? Take my jeep. I put the keys on the rack over the unit. Also, don’t wake Smurf up.”

Deran has to clench his hand into a fist as he grits his teeth together.

“What happened?” He’s jabbing his nails into his palm as he asks.

Because blood?

He glances at the clock above his drawer-it says 2:11.

It’s 2:11 in the morning. And somehow Adrian finds a way to fuck with him.

Deran removes his cell away from his face as he lets out a growl.

“I don’t know. Once he wakes up-“ Deran digs his fingers deeper into his flesh because the thought of Adrian not even being conscious. He perches over the bed as Baz’s voice starts to be overwhelmed by his harsh breaths. He fizzles around until he brings his legs up and closer to his chest, rests his elbow against the knees and shoves his head in between.

He starts to count.

11.

8.

234.

It’s all random.

Counting from one to ten seemed too obvious.

234.

8.

11.

He says it over and over again, whispers it under his breath until his breathing levels out.

“Deran.” Baz is now barking as Deran places the phone against his ear, “Just get here alright?”

Soon his feet hit the ground running.

He doesn’t remember really putting on his sweatshirt, shoving his feet into his sneakers, walking into the shed, rummaging his over the rack-slides his hand to one side before he grips onto the keys. He doesn’t remember starting the jeep, or opening the gates. He doesn’t remember much as he pulls the jeep out onto the street and presses on the accelerator and having to swerve when he doesn’t see that he had just swerved past a stop light.

He glances at his phone, the screen lighting up. So he goes to grab it, levels the phone in front of his eyes and reads the address. It clicks that they’re not at a hospital. But a community clinic.

He doesn’t remember the anger that rummages through him as he continues to press down on the accelerator.

He doesn’t remember much as he pulls into the parking lot. Turns the engine off. Grabs his phone and shoves it into his shorts. His vision blurs. All the different color lights start to mesh into one. He sees ‘community clinic’ as bright as daylights. But that’s as much as clarity as he could see.

He grips onto the handle and pushes forward. The soles of his shoes are making rubbery sounds as he slams them against the ground. He drags his feet when all he wants to do is stop-

He wants to let the lump in his throat disappear.

He wants to clear his sight.

He just wants it to stop.

“Deran. Hey.” Cool hands brisk his shoulders. Deran swipes at his nose as he arches his back. Finds himself looking directly at Baz.

Baz was looking right back at him.

Deran lets Baz direct him around the corner, down a long hallway. The white starts to make him feel nauseous. His feet feel numb as he walks and the drumming in his ears begin.

Craig is perked up against the wall. Deran watches as Craig leans forward when he’s standing about twenty feet away.

“Dude-“

“A fucking clinic?” Deran’s surprised at the tone of his voice. It was somewhere between confusion and sheer anger that he thought he couldn’t muster. He also has to jab his hands to his sides when he feels the words start to crack. His voice would betray him. He knew they would.

They couldn’t see that.

He shrugs off Baz’s touch and slides to the opposite side of them.

“There’s a fucking hospital closer than this.”

He doesn’t look at them as he continues.

It helps that he doesn’t have to.

Because if he did.

Shit.

“Are you both stupid?” He seethes, “What if he had-I don’t know?!” The possibilities seemed endless, “What if he had burst his spleen or some shit?” It seems random. But it also seemed likely. “What if he cracked a rib? Dude, you could puncture your lung that way!” His mind is running as he turns to face the room that he had assumed was where they had taken him.

He catches his breath.

He feels his skin prickling.

He does what he knows best.

He rubs his hand over his eyes, rests them against his forehead as he focuses on his feet.

Because, shit.

“I swear to God…”

“It’s just a broken nose, Deran.” Baz is at his side as he answers, “That’s all. I searched him over. I tried to ask him if anything else hurt but he was already out by the time-“

“Oh, Jesus.” Deran takes a step back.

“-he’s going to be fine.” Baz continues, more sterness in his voice, “We took him here because I couldn’t find his card, man. They would ask too many questions if we took him to a hospital. You and I both know that that’s not what Adrian wants.”

Deran’s blood boils as he focuses on Baz’s words.

That’s not what Adrian wants.

They would ask too many questions.

Questions.

“Questions about what?”

Baz sighs, “De-“

“Fuck you.” Deran cuts him off, “Fuck. You.”

Craig’s at Baz’s side just as quickly. He has his hands out as if he’s trying to stop whatever might start. Deran wants to flip him off but he looks away when all he wants to do is throw his fist in Baz’s direction.

“Dude, A-man wouldn’t do stupid shit. We know that. That’s not what he’s trying to say.” Craig starts, “But we can’t take chances, right?”

He grips at his hair as he growls. He knows that his vision is blurred and that his eyes are starting to burn. He blinks away until he presses his forehead against the tiled wall. He lets out a breath he knows he’s holding but doing that makes him feel as if he had just given into something.

He shifts his head from one side to another.

Does so because the drumming in his ears begins to change in tune.

If he’s angled just a little bit to the side but hung his head, the sound was fine-tuned. It didn’t sound like scraping nails.

It just sounded like the motor of a cooler.

It’s never just a broken nose.

It’s never that.

“Deran, he’ll be fine.”

He knows it.

He has to be.

There was nothing else he could be.

He had to be okay.

“Don’t fucking tell me that,” he clears his throat as he growls.

Baz retracts his hand.

“Listen, I’m not going to do this entire schpiel with you, man.”

Deran looks at him.

“What, schpiel?” He repeats.

Baz gives him a once-twice lookover. He glances at Deran from the brisk of his toes to the top of his head. Does it once. Does it again.

“This,” he waves his hands in Deran’s direction, “You just-“ Deran waits for him to continue. He hopes Baz does because if he’s being honest, a fist in Baz’s face doesn’t seem like a bad idea. It seems like that it would feel much better right now if Baz continued.

So he waits.

His nostrils are flaring and his hands are in the shapes of fists.

He watches as Baz sighs.

His mouth forms an oval shape but then he drops his gaze as he turns to look at Craig.

And Deran realizes then what he was, how he was feeling, how he was displaying it-

He catches himself uncurl his hands. Coughs into his elbow as he sags his shoulders. He rubs at his elbow as he exhales.

He knew what he had looked like. Sounded like.

And they were noticing it too.

“Yeah,” Deran levels his voice, “He’ll be fine.”

Deran has to bite down on his lip when he feels the shudder crawl up his spine.

He’ll be fine because he has to.

There were no ifs, ands or buts about it.

“Whatever.” Deran adds because they’re still looking at him.

Like they’re noticing something that Deran didn’t want them to.

That the change in manner was just expected but also-

It’s as if they had caught Deran in something that he hadn’t mean to find himself in.

They’re looking at him.

So Deran looks away.

“It’s just a broken nose.” He finds himself repeating, but this time, he makes sure to scowl. Like, there. He can handle a broken nose. And if he couldn’t-

Well, then tough shit.

But the drumming is back and it’s louder.

And this time,  he let’s it swallow the entire room.

#deran Cody x adrian #deran x adrian #animal kingdom tnt #give Adrian a last name #deran cody #Craig cody #Baz Cody #It's just pathetic how he feels

[illuminction-blog]

*  ariana grande, age 22, she/her  | oh, them? that’s  pippa ‘pip’ renetti. they’ve lived in carina bay for, like, four years. last time i spoke to them they were a club dj, and if i remember correctly, they’re a sagittarius . seeing them around always makes me think of towels on the bathroom floor from hair dyed stark white, retro 80’s windbreakers with over-ear headphones dangling around her neck, neon colors & body paint splatters glowing bright beneath blacklights.

pippa renetti comes from a very affluent family who lived in london’s notting hill, a wealthy neighborhood on the west side of the city. she’s an only child and was properly spoilt but not in the silver spoon sort of way. she was always reminded of those less fortunate than she and kept a level head on her about the wealth with which she had been blessed.

it became clear from a young age that the renetti daughter was musically gifted. she has perfect pitch and a knack for picking up instruments that became discovered as she tried to self-teach herself on the grand piano in their front parlor at the tender age of four.

perhaps incorrectly, they presumed their bright, spirited young daughter might excel specifically in classical music. it might have matched with her talents but it did NOT mesh well with her personality.

pip is a high energy sprite of a thing and always has been. she’s incredibly well spoken (a side effect of her affluent upbringing). coming from wealth, she’s socially educated and tends to adapt herself to different situations. despite dressing in high end labels and carrying herself with pristine posture, she’s actually very easy to get along with, low maintenance, life of the party, a tiny bundle of fun!!

none of that lent itself well to hours at a piano for practice, cut off from the social spheres from which she drew her energy. she found herself wistfully sighing as she turned away friends in favor of piano, training to be a classical pianist.

she’d started sneaking out as early as age 12, wanting to hang out with her friends instead of being tucked away at home learning to be proper and studying her music theory. pip considered herself in with any crowd and found herself in with an edgy, laid back group of people who didn’t take anything seriously. a perfect foil for her home life.

she stumbled into dj-ing by accident. musically inclined, she liked to explore different genres of music to listen to and a boy at school had an obsession with techno. she took note of his neon headphones and the reverb of bass pouring out and took an interest. she boldly introduced herself, demanded they be friends, and has been hooked on the intoxicating beat ever since.

BASICALLY, pip moved to the states to pursue a career in dj-ing. she told her parents it was to obtain a sense of independence when, really, they were smothering her creativity with their limited vision of her as classical musician. she wanted to unleash her wild talents on the dj world and is actually even more gifted at it than at any other instrument

she’s studying music/music technology at a nearby university just so she can have her uni qualifications in case she’s not the Next Big Thing

she’s still very much a people person and she’s very happy with where she’s at in life. despite being at a different place than she’s accustomed to, financially, she’s doing what she’s passionate about and feels most in her element when surrounded by music. her parents still give her support but it’s significantly less than if she’d followed their plans/ was still at home

she’s got a very posh london accent but curses like a sailor -- something she’s picked up moreso since moving to the states at 18. she’s an eclectic dresser now that she’s less financially supported -- does a lot of thrifting and has a thing for vintage 80s wear for all the colors. loves neons bc they reflect her brightness. one area she’ll never skimp is hair dye. she keeps herself dyed PLATINUM white blonde because its her dj aesthetic and she’s decided to keep it full time (used to be a wig)

pip is my poly pansexual pixie princess so i hope you all love her because i do rip

PLOTS: BFF, exes from the past 4 years, past england connections, favorite club patron, bartenders/ bouncers etc at the club where she headlines, protective friendship, flirtationship, one night stand, past hookup maybe they even had a scare and she ditched bc nty, bad influence, biggest fan, idk maybe a musician who wants her to remix their stuff, music buddies, casual friends, smoking buddies ( weed is all she does ok ), straight girl she’s set on seducing i’m??? running out of ideas but message me

oh, call her pippa and u die

#carinaintro #°☆.。intro ( pip )

[ivyfics]

Lazy Sunday Afternoon — (fic)

On the screen there are, well… There are wonderful, beautiful things that would look infinitely more interesting on the body next to his than on the person modeling them on the computer. Rows and rows of lace, and cotton, and—is that mesh?

Kuroo helps Tsukki shop for lingerie.

Read on AO3 Commission for @its-love-u-asshole​ This belongs in the Being Gross universe Pairing: Kurotsukki Rating: M 

There are very few things Tetsurou likes more than a lazy Sunday afternoon like today's. They watched a movie, some slasher film that made them giggle at the terrible fake blood and even worse acting, followed by a slightly better (but not good) ghost film.

After some popcorn, and kisses, and then Tetsurou cleaning up the popcorn that scattered from his trying and failing to start a popcorn war, Kei snatched his laptop back and they each faded back to doing their own thing for a while.

It was nice.

Was.

Now Tetsurou is over checking his social media and trading increasingly ridiculous snaps with Bokuto, the room too dim to keep sending them, and he wants attention from the pretty blonde laying next to him.

Kei’s feet are tucked under the pillow next to Tetsurou, giving him the perfect opening to grab him by the ankle and absentmindedly run his thumb over it in circles. There’s not even a peep from Kei, not a hum of acknowledgment or the swift kick to his ribs he usually gets when Tetsurou goes from gentle to ticklish.

Seeing how far he can take it, he moves from Kei’s ankle to his calf, feeling the soft fabric covering Kei’s legs from the outside of his thigh and up to his hip. He pokes at Tsukki hip hard, getting nothing but a bored groan and a hip bump back.

“What are you doing?”

Kei’s voice is low. He’s responding on autopilot, focused on the screen. “Browsing.”

The light radiating from it is the only thing keeping the room from plunging into darkness, white and blue rays diffusing softly over the planes of Kei’s cheeks, his shoulder, all the way to the curve of his bare back where he lays on his stomach. Kei’s glasses are on the nightstand, no glass or reflection hindering Tetsurou’s admiration for the way the light falls on the highest peak of his cheekbone, all the way to the hollow of his clavicle.

Blinds shut tight since it was bright and orange, they’ve been ignoring being actual humans that go and do things outside in favor of not doing that. Now the sky outside is a quiet black that seeps in and bounces off the shut door, isolating them from whatever might be going on in the world beyond the four walls that surround them and each other.

Tetsurou stretches, extending his arm and shaking off the tightness of leaning on it for too long when browsing through his phone before crawling to face away from the headboard. When he’s parallel to where his boyfriend hugs a pillow to his chest to keep upright, he hooks his chin on Kei’s shoulder to be a busybody and see what he’s looking at.

On the screen there are, well…  

There are wonderful, beautiful things that would look infinitely more interesting on the body next to his than on the person modeling them in the computer. Rows and rows of lace, and cotton, and—is that mesh?

Tetsurou stares and stares some more, eyes roaming the tiny thumbnails in varied stages of undress. His eyes catch on a particular pair, some flimsy, gorgeously transparent thing that is less than a third of a step up from being naked while being so much more. He makes some sort of noise and clears his throat to pretend he’s not as thirsty as he is. “Those look nice. Red looks good on you.”

Kei is not buying it. “You say that because it’s your favorite color.”

“Nooooo,“ Tetsurou plays along, “that is so not it.”

He gets a chuckle but not a lot more, Kei’s face entirely too close to the screen to be any kind of healthy or conducive to not fucking up his eyes even more.

Tetsurou manages about a whole minute of silence before, “Do you always shop online?”

“Yeah.”

After it’s clear that there’s no follow-up, he says, “You are a mountain of information. A conversational guru.”

That earns him a “Yup,” Kei’s lip popping at the end.

And nothing else.  

“Tsukki,” he whines.

Kei breaks, mockingly whining back. “Tetsu.”  He also untangles his free hand from the clutches of his pillow and brings it to scratch at the side of Tetsurou’s head, running it slowly through his hair. Whatever pouting Tetsurou was doing melts away in the wake of Kei’s fingers through his scalp, his body going lax and leaning most of his weight on Kei’s side. It’s nice to have someone who understands that what he really means is ‘pay attention to me’.

After a couple of scratches, Kei elaborates. “I tried going in-person when I moved here with the whole ‘I’m shopping for my girlfriend’ excuse—” at which Tetsurou gives a sharp laugh because girlfriend — “but I still kept getting stares. It was kind of uncomfortable so I stopped.”

Tetsurou’s heart shrinks a little at the image of Kei, alone,  just trying to shop and minding his own business, being uncomfortable enough to stop. Kei has mentioned before how it feels for him some days, like there’s a magnifying glass following his every move, like he’s two steps behind from everyone else, like there’s a script he doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to think about it, especially if it was before Bokuto did him the solid of his life and forcibly dragged their asses to a conbini to magically run into Kei.

Tetsurou looks at Kei’s profile, sees how he hovers over a particular set that stirs some interest in his gut, reluctant to scroll down. “What about that one?”

Kei freezes.

“That’s a garter belt. And stockings.”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou sighs out, hopeful.

Kei looks at him, confusion on his face. “I can’t wear a garter belt.”

There’s no else on this earth that should wear a garter belt more than Kei. “Why not?”

Kei sputters for only a second before settling on, “It’s not practical for everyday.”

“So don’t wear it everyday. You like it,” he insists gently, as to not spook Kei away. He comes on strong anyway when he can’t keep the thirst out of his croaky voice, looking the set over and drinking in the mental image of Kei halfway to naked in a strappy number in front of him. “That one looks really nice.”

They stare at each other for a second. Tetsurou almost breaks, almost, because Kei has to squint to see him properly in the dark when he’s glassless. He has to bite down the inside of his cheek to stop his lips from curling. It’s worth it when Kei gets that he’s not kidding, and looks back to the set he’s been eyeing with a different kind of glint in his eye. Hesitantly, Kei clicks on it.

Tetsurou deserves an award for this. All the awards, any award.

He’s a hero to everything holy and beautiful, truly, the maste—

“There’s no sizing chart for that one.”

Tetsurou deflates.

They move on to the next one but he can tell Kei is a little disappointed. He doesn’t get why Kei wouldn’t get the ones he likes, passing over them to look at more ‘acceptable’ ones, whatever that means. Then again, none of Tetsurou’s issues have ever been about how his body looks, or if he should like the things that he likes—and fuck that dude with the sharpest, driest, hottest burning pitchfork hell has to offer, in particular. If he ever crosses paths with ex-boyfriend number three...

Tetsurou takes upon himself to prod Kei on checking out the less-practical ones he likes with soft hums and words of approval. Kei is—for once—warm even without Tetsurou draped all over him. Tetsurou seizes the chance to slowly trace fingers over his back, following the dip of his spine all the way to where his waistband hugs low on his hip. He interrupts with a bite here or there because he’s handsy like that.

You can't expect him not to be when Kei is so soft, relaxed to the point where he’s almost boneless. When all he does is stretch out so Tetsurou has better access to the column of his neck while he looks for things that are going to drive Tetsurou crazy at one point or another.

Even more than that, he can imagine Kei’s demeanor when he wears things that make him feel good. It’s an amazing thing to see, even better to experience. They way he likes to idly feel the textures against his skin while getting dressed, almost not touching. Tetsurou doesn’t think he’s aware of it.

It’s endearing. Cute.

He kisses a line up Kei’s shoulder just because he can. Then he rubs his cheek on Kei because he knows it makes him laugh and Tetsurou craves that sound like he craves food. He needs it to be alive, chases after it with stupid jokes and crazy antics.

They kiss lazy for a while, Kuroo flopping back down and helping Kei pick things that he likes. Tetsurou manages to stay like that for another hour and a little more, up until he stretches and gets up to make some food because we have to eat something green, Tsukki, popcorn is not gonna feed that gigantic frame of yours for long.

Tetsurou thinks about it. He thinks about it a lot.

Gives it massive amounts of thought, especially when he sees Kei run his hands through the drawer of goodies to feel the fabric with his fingers before picking out one to wear for the day. Ponders the ‘buts’ and ‘ifs’ of it when they spend another lazy Sunday afternoon together and Tetsurou’s encouragement gets him a smile and Kei purchasing something he kept passing over because it wasn’t practical and a bunch of other things that made sense only to Kei.

He makes up his mind when the set Kei bought at Tetsurou’s prodding arrives and Kei unpacks it with barely contained glee. There’s a light blush high on his cheeks when he gingerly picks out the see-through fabric. He’s mesmerized by the feel of it against his hands, forgetting Tetsurou is in the room with him in his excitement.

They’re sitting on the living-room floor at Kei’s, blankets piled around them and something gets stuck in Tetsurou’s chest at the sight of it. It doesn’t miss him that there’s probably not a lot of people who’ve had the privilege of seeing Kei like this, open and sharing of things that are meant only for himself—and maybe Tetsurou, every once in a while.

(Sometimes he wonders if he’s the only one who has, but he stops before his heart gets too big, too fast and implodes.)

Kei is flushed, and giddy, and gorgeous in a sweater that has a hole on the collar, one that belonged to Tetsurou for exactly five years before Kei’s cold grubby thiefy hands stole it from him. He tried to be sneaky but the joke’s on him because Tetsurou would give him anything at all with just a bat of an eyelash or the tilt of a word.

Tetsurou loves him. Loves him so much.

Loves the way he looks when he has just gotten up and is trying to blink himself awake as much as he does when he strips down to nothing while he makes Tetsurou wait in another room just for the sake of first impressions, fitting himself with delicate things.

How he grins when he comes out and Tetsurou’s heart stops because God damn, how the hell is this my life?

How confidence looks on him when he shows off thin, coal arches and straps, like bridges that connect tight mesh to the opaque bands at the top of his thighs, crowning the long, long journey down to the tip of his toes.

How the top of the ensemble is just low enough to show off the tattoos at his hips, the tiny swirl of color that peeks on the top of his shoulder, and Tetsurou’s mouth runs dry and wet at the thought of tracing them with his tongue for what must be the eight-hundred-thousandth time.

He thinks he might die of this one day. If there is any way to die of loving someone too much, then he’s as well as buried.

Also, his boner is killing him.

Kei is killing him, sauntering over without an ounce of shame or self-consciousness. Kei walks to Tetsurou and gives an amused peck to where he’s slack-jawed, getting as close as he can, giving him the mind-numbing pleasure of having Kei flushed against his body. Tetsurou has spent many a sleepless night trying to list the things he might have done in past lives to be able to have this, to wake up and have a life with friends and love and happiness, to deserve being the one Kei decides to obliterate with poise.  

Tetsurou kneels without prompting. Without thought, either. His body responds lacking any input while his mind tries to process. It’s not the most elaborate or fanciful they saw, it’s a clean look that drives him crazy when he feels the fabric that covers Kei’s legs rub against his cheek. This silent synchrony is one they’ve done before, many a time.

Tetsurou knows Kei loves his mouth, likes to see it run and bring the filthiest, truest things to life. It riles both of them up, gets them rearing and ready to go.

Tetsurou doesn’t want that. He wants soft.

He starts slow, so he mouths at the only strip of exposed skin, chomping down and leaving behind a violet bruise. He bites again and leaves another, then one more, because he can. Because Kei hasn’t said not to. He doesn’t stop until there’s a smattering of violet marks painted right above the thick band that connects the stocking to the garter, leading to the inside of his thigh, and Kei is going to have to borrow Tetsurou’s compression shorts just to hide them.  

It wouldn’t be the first time. Once, when Tetsurou had gotten a little too carried away, he had to borrow one of Bokuto’s long spares.

It’s a sight to see.

He pauses, waiting for any signal from Kei and gets none.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Kei makes him wait. When he is wearing that particular smile and an edge that hasn’t quite bled yet into his eyes yet, he makes Tetsurou sit and wait until he decides Tetsurou is allowed to touch or do anything other than drool all over himself.

It’s only happened twice or thrice but there are times when Kei lets the power he holds over Tetsurou go to his head, he gets mean and doesn’t let Tetsurou touch at all. Leaves him hard and hot and wanting as he watches as Kei go about giving himself the pleasure he deserves.

Tetsurou is being left alone to do as he pleases, so he does what he wants. He wants to pay his respects, wants Kei to hear the heavy sigh that leaves his lips to hit pale skin and to feel how breathless he gets. Wants his hands to leave a trail as they run down his thigh with the thick black edge of the seam over strong muscle and pliant body.

Kei doesn’t stop him or get that hard edge that makes Tetsurou’s stomach drop. Instead, he hums at the peck left on his hip, fingers tangling more on the dark mess atop Tetsurou’s head. Tetsurou looks up at him, drunk and so, so hot. He’s burning. “This is the best day of my life.”

Kei laughs openly at that, and paired with the smile that comes out of him, Tetsurou wants to say whatever it will take to make him do it again. “You say that every day.”

“Every day with you is the best day of my life.”

Kei’s breath catches at that, and he closes his eyes like he’s in pain. Tetsurou grins. He’s been there, he knows the way love moves through a body when you feel so much that it hurts . When Kei opens his eyes after a big, deep breath there’s all of that in there. Molten and sweet, “You sappy dork.”

Kei’s fingers in his hair tighten, gripping him suddenly and pressing Tetsurou against the top of his thigh, nose against where Kei is half-hard. Tetsurou bites back a moan at the tug, letting a shiver run down his spine.

“Suck me.”

There’s also this, sometimes. When Kei gets bossy and Tetsurou is more than happy to comply. Kei’s voice is soft, padding around every sense Tetsurou has and leaving him nothing but a goopy, compliant mess. Tetsurou nods and gets to work.  

It really is the best day of his life.

Tetsurou finds him in his usual spot by a tiny campus café. Akaashi is easy to look for, once you know his patterns. He walks up to Akaashi slowly, taking his time in thinking what he’s about to say.

It’s a longshot. The longest of longshots.

But, if there’s anyone he trusts enough to lend him a hand with this, it’s Akaashi. That Kuroo saw the proofs of a particular shoot Bokuto help him with that showcased something very similar to what he’s looking for doesn’t hurt, either.

Kuroo doesn’t waste a second after he seats himself next to Akaashi. “Hello, dear friend. I need your help.”

Akaashi looks at him for a second before putting down his tea and letting out a heavy, resigned sigh. “What did you do this time?”

“What did I—Akaashi, what do you think of me?”

Akaashi gives him a specific look that Tetsurou is sure he stole from Kei. He had to. There’s no mistaking that expression. On the other hand, Tetsurou has asked Akaashi for questionable things in the past. “Alright, fine. It’s for Tsukki.”

Immediately, Akaashi’s demeanor changes. It’s like flipping a switch. Tetsurou would be a little miffed, even jealous if he didn’t get it. Tsukki never asks for anything from any of them other than Tetsurou, and even then it’s after he’s thought it through in every way possible. He’s also very cute, and nice, and discreetly considerate under that layer of snark and everyone wants to give him all the things, including Tetsurou and apparently Akaashi.

Bokuto isn’t constrained by mortal ties and does things for him without care.

Tetsurou backtracks before there can be any misunderstandings to pay for later, “Well, for me and Tsukki. Mostly for him. But a lot for me, too.”

Whatever amount Kei benefits from this seems to be enough. The next thing out of Akaashi’s mouth is, “What do you need?”

“I have a surprise for you.”

Bokuto’s voice rises, unencumbered by the noise the shower makes. He’s got some pipes on him, evidenced by where Kei’s headphones hang limply from his ears so he can enjoy the song Bokuto belts out in the background.

Kei looks at him over the screen of his laptop. He gauges Tetsurou for the better part of a minute before looking back down. “You look too happy. I don’t trust it.”

He looks happy because he is happy. There’s a lot of work to be done and one of his new kids is the biggest pain in the ass to tutor, but Akaashi managed to arrange everything just in time. Bokuto’s voice rises again, going for the high note, and Tetsurou whistles at how he hits it before turning to sit fully facing Kei. He’s in his designated spot in Tetsurou ’s and Bokuto’s shared apartment, on the corner of the couch that has the dip on the side. By designated he means Kei plopped down one day and said ‘this is mine now.’

It used to be Bokuto’s spot. There was no contest.

Tetsurou waits until Bokuto has quieted down for a moment. “Do you trust me?”

Kei just looks at him again, saying nothing for as long as it takes for Bokuto to move on to the next song. “Tsukki!”

Kei rolls his eyes at him, amused. The little shit.  “Obviously, yes. Don’t know why, though. You’ve done terrible things to me.”

“Only when you ask.”

“Oh my god.”

You know, now that the moment has come Tetsurou is feeling a little queasy. This was all a great idea—in his head. Being up-close with the string of decisions he has made and where it has lead them is making him dizzy, heart pounding out of his chest. The walk to the shop was fine, so was standing in front of the whole-in-the-wall façade, unassuming and camouflaged on a small street without a lot of traffic.

Kei was patient and ridiculous enough in his inquisition of where they were going that it was obvious he didn’t really want to know, not even batting an eye at the closed sign on the door. The graying lady that greeted them was great, too! Unobtrusive and letting them go through with just a nod. The sweaty hands started after they went beyond the second entrance, both of them standing like gawking idiots, Kei at the display before him and Tetsurou at his boyfriend.

“Oh my god,” Kei repeats.

Tetsurou voice cracks a little. “Yeah.”

Before them is the mecca of lingerie; any and all kinds, from the racier, more kink inclined to the simpler lace boyshorts Kei favors for everyday. Displays, mannequins, and hangers of all kinds, a sea of lace and silk. It suddenly hits him how off the mark this might be, makes him flounder with a rush of words. “I know it’s sudden, but I thought you’d like something like this every once in a while. Have a little fun. We don’t have to stay. We can leave at any point, and if it’s like—like, too much we can forget about this and go—”

Kei squeezes his hands with too much pressure, effectively shutting him up. What comes out of him is strangled in a way Tetsurou’s come to recognize as good. “Tetsu.”

Tetsurou takes a single breath of pure relief. “Yeah?”

Kei nods, pulling him forward, still a little hesitant but growing surer with every step. They’re alone, having the store for themselves for exactly two hours thanks to Akaashi’s pull, whatever that might be.

“How did you find this place?”

“Akaashi. I asked him if he knew a non-judgy place where I could find stuff in my size. He worked his magic.” Tetsurou isn’t inclined to disclose that they’d be looking for things Kei could wear, not without his boyfriend’s express approval. Kei can’t really approve when it’s a surprise, can he?

“How does Akaashi—”Kei stops, eyes dragging over to a small entryway leading up. It’s dab-smack between displays of fishnet stockings and shiny knee-high boots. Red neon runs through the sides of the walls, making the climb glow with suggestion“—nevermind. I don’t want to know.”

Tetsurou is curious. So curious. He wants to go up and see but he’s not sure his heart is ready for it. Baby steps, he tells himself, another day. He shakes himself out of it, getting to the matter at hand. “Tsukki,” he calls out, smirk already in place, “Let’s shop.”

Kei looks really happy but in an understated kind of way. The way he does when the asshole that steals his seat in that one class is late and has to shamefully slink to the back while Kei basks in his victory, but better because there are only good things happening here. Kei lets go of his hand, going over the displays, touching this and that. It’s a side of him Tetsurou hasn’t experienced before and he drinks it in, trying to add this to his Tsukki repertoire. Eventually, he drifts and browses on his own, letting Kei have some space to look without Tetsurou hovering over him. He finds some things that catch his eye, a lacy thing here, some silk there. It’s a different experience from how he usually shops, a different kind of feel to be surrounded by things that are so delicate and unlike what he usually looks for. It’s a nice change.

He makes it back to the wall were stockings are stacked one above the other and spaces out for a little bit, mind getting lost in the memory of Kei and stockings together. His eyes cross in his daydream and when they focus back, he freezes.  

Tetsurou takes a single look at a high shelf above the entrance to the stairs, where a gagged mannequin is on display and flushes from head to toe,  doing a one-eighty to face something that will not kill him and out his kinks to the nice old lady who must be monitoring them through cameras. It doesn’t work because he’s met front and center with Kei making googly eyes at something that should be illegal.

On display there is something strappy and black, two of Kei’s favorite things as Tetsurou has learned. It’s also strappy, black and can be described as a body cage, so Tetsurou is going to die. Full on buried, mourned, with a headstone that will read killed by lingerie, his boyfriend, and his thirsty dick.

Kei is flushed, too, but for obviously different reasons. Excitement runs through his features as he circles the mannequin. He’s like a kid on Christmas morning, and Kuroo is torn between soft and mushy, and really hard and horny.

This is what it’s all about. Kei looks… like he should always look, at ease. Excited. Void of anything uncomfortable or pressing. Tetsurou pulls out his phone to send Akaashi seventeen grinning cat emojis.  

“Want to try it on?”

This time, when Kei looks over at him there’s no hesitation. “Yes.”

“This was a terrific, terrible idea.”

Kei meets his eyes in the mirror with mischief, hands touching the fabric that clings to his chest. “So, good?

He’s evil. His boyfriend is the evilest of evil. Come see how it looks, he said, tell me if it’s okay . Okay? Okay doesn’t exist in this context. Kei looks like something out of a dream. Tetsurou couldn’t hide the want in his voice even if he tried.

The best part of it?

The best part is that Kei knows how he looks, all toned skin and metal rings, black ribbons and lean muscles. The only thing portraying decency in the outfit are the briefs Kei wears underneath it. Even then, they do nothing to hide how the harness pulls into the vee of his hips and frames the soft curve where his cock rests.

All that does is make Tetsurou’s mind cannonball into how it would look with Kei hard, wet and pink all over—

“This needs to be immortalized.”

Kei pretends, of course he does. He loves torturing Tetsurou like this.

In Tetsurou’s head this was meant to be a—a healing, fun thing they could do together, something nice where he would be supportive and share something Kei likes with him. Tetsurou should have known better after all this time. He should have anticipated the coy look Kei throws his way with a soft, “I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Evil.

Tetsurou closes his eyes and tries. Tries to keep his composure. “Don’t,” he says, trying so hard.

He’s grateful that this dressing room is a private one, far back at the end of the shop. That there’s what feels like miles and eons between them and the outside, and that a camera in a dressing room is an iffy thing so maybe he won’t have to look at the lady ringing them up with the knowledge that she watched while Tetsurou battled with the hardness of his dick in public.

It’s not huge, but the high-backed chair for companions to wait is comfortable and gives the room a little oomph , matching the champagne drapes that close off the changing area. The rug beneath him looks incredibly soft and the lights are dim enough to not give that garish fluorescent look.

It’s tasteful, a lot nicer than he originally thought it would be. Every new thing, every passing glance makes him burn with curiosity as to how Akaashi even has any leverage to pull here.

Kei strings him along and he goes easy. In any other circumstance he’d put up a good fight but at the end of the day, Tetsurou knows he’s helpless against Kei when he’s like this. “Don’t what? I’m not doing anything,” Kei says with an air of innocence around him, completely fabricated, adulterated, fake.

Tetsurou has been so good. So good. He’s been polite, respectful. Was nice to the old lady when she ushered them into the dressing room. Tetsurou made a promise to himself to keep today clean and not about him or any of his appendages. He has made exactly zero dick jokes today.

Zero. Dick. Jokes.

“Tsukki,” he whines, slightly, “I’m trying.”

In the end, resistance is futile. His hands find perch on Tsukki’s hips, bringing him close to feed on how he looks. How he feels. Kei wiggles closer shamelessly, enjoying being on display. “Trying to what? I don’t know what you mean.”

Kei is impossible. “You’re so mean,” he says, leaning in to press their foreheads together.“And so hot. Why are you so hot?”

Kei’s lips curl into amusement, his arms coming up to wrap around Tetsurou’s neck.“Emotional bias?”

“Maybe.” Tetsurou loses this little game of theirs and presses a kiss to the corner of Kei’s mouth, just to feel it curl some more. “Just a little.”

Kei chases after it this time, leaning in hard and stealing Tetsurou’s breath away. Kei’s arm at his neck wraps tighter, fingers digging in against Tetsurou’s scalp and it spurs them on, mouths growing frantic against each other.

Whatever sweetness lingers is lost to the scrape of Kei’s teeth along Tetsurou’s bottom lip, pulling a gasp and a harder grip on bare hips. Tetsurou gets lost in it, in the feel of Kei against him, working to make Tetsurou lose his head and press harder against whatever he can.  

His fingers sink into the give of Kei’s ass and he moans, a beautiful low sound that sets Tetsurou’s skin on fire. He walks both of them until Kei’s back hits the wall, hand trailing down to pull a heavenly thigh up against his waist so he can grind up and—

Kei breaks away, panting. “We have to stop.” His eyes are closed and he looks as pained as Tetsurou feels. “I like this place. We are not fucking in a dressing room when the nice old lady could walk in or knock the door at any second. We have to be decent.”

Tetsurou hates it. He hates it when he lets Kei’s thigh go and drops his forehead to rest on his shoulder, trying to calm down. “You’re right.”

“Just think of the old lady.”

“There goes my dick.” Tetsurou pulls back to look at Kei’s flushed face. “You do look amazing. I’m not just saying that so I can get a piece.”

Kei’s face softens in a way that sets Tetsurou’s heart on fire. “Thank you. For this.” He sighs and leans his head back on the wall to look at Tetsurou with content.“It has been really fun.”

Tetsurou doesn’t know what his face is doing but he’s sure it’s something dumb. “I’m glad torturing me was amusing to you.”

Somehow, they manage to run through all the things Kei wants to try on without any further incidents, just a lot of heated staring and suggestive looks. They’ve got a decent haul ready and are sorting through what they’re going to get before calling the old lady (whose name is Nakanishi-san, according to the text Akaashi sent Tetsurou a while back) so that she can ring them up. Kuroo has been planning this for a while, apparently.

He wouldn’t  give Kei a straight answer the previous two times he’s asked, so he’s going to take a hint and not ask anymore.

Nakanishi-san has been very kind in giving them a lot of room to roam around, not pushing for anything specific or trailing after them. She popped in once to ask how things were going—thankfully after they had been in a less compromising situation, Kuroo back on the companion’s area by himself—and to tell them to come up to her when they had decided what they were taking home.

They sort through their picks now, Kei checking over what he definitely wants and what he can come back for later, and he is definitely coming back. He’s picking up the harness to try and place on his pile without it tangling when Kuroo plucks it from his hands, adding it to his. “My treat.”

Kei frowns. It’s not super expensive, but it’s the priciest thing he’s getting and Kuroo has enough on his plate to spend that (plus the stuff on his secretive buy pile) on him. Bringing him here, spending the afternoon together is enough. “Kuroo.”

Kuroo bumps him with his hip, giving him a smirk that shouldn’t be reassuring but is. “My treat,” he says again, “you’ll get the next one.”

Kei relents. He can very rarely say no to Kuroo when he’s like this. It’s like he’s walking on air, all nice and soft and free. Like there’s not a single care in the world. He loves Tetsurou like this, so he relents and makes an internal promise to put on a show he knows his boyfriend will appreciate in the near future. He knows he doesn’t have to, Kuroo wouldn’t be okay with Kei thinking that he  owes anything for a gift, but he wants to. He gets a lot out of it, too.

Kei goes through his buy pile, moving another pair to his get later pile, and takes a peek at Tetsurou’s.

There’s some white lace briefs that look a little too big for Kei’s hips. An identical black pair is already put away in his buy pile, so he doesn’t think too much when he says, “White washes me out.”

Kuroo turns to smile at him slowly, and it’s that smile of his that’s all teeth and bad intentions, the one that makes Kei a little weak in the knees when he gets the full brunt of it. An alarm goes off in the back of his head, one that tells him that the feeling growing in his gut is the one prey gets when it’s been snared.  

This is bad, bad bad bad—

“These ones,” Kuroo says pointedly, holding the delicate fabrics to his chest, “are not for you. ”

#sorry im always late here pals #haikyuu!! #kurotsukki #my writing #bgv #adri has the best ideas bow down to her #rated m for now #:eye: #i dont think i posted that i opened commissions here? but i opened commissions

[daxieoclock]

Exploration and Audience: Hunters Highlights

I ran out of energy right after the session so I couldn’t make this until now, but hoooo boy yesterday’s sesh was really really fucking good. I couldn’t not make an HH for it!

Context:

The Hunters have taken on their second mission – infiltrate a dungeon in Fractals known as the Cable Canopy, where nature and technology war against each other, to find and slay one of the two Behemoths who reside there. While Blake possesses notes from a previous team’s exploration of the canopy, they have been somewhat inaccurate and distinctly lackluster. The dungeon’s first chamber contained warring Shadows, and the Hunters took out the technologically-minded ones while earning the favor of the nature-minded ones. In the second chamber, thanks to some quick thinking by Blake and Ilse, they were able to solve a switch puzzle using a series of computer consoles, though it caused the foliage within that chamber to wilt. Now, they travel farther into the dungeon, without realizing they’ve ended up earning the attention of both Behemoths. And one, in particular, has opened up the path for an audience...

Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

so you walk through the door and into a slightly better lit hallway, a short and tense walk until you reach a fork in the road. in front of you is yet again blocked by wires and vines, and there is a series of metal stairs to the right and a natural downward slope to the left.

Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

Blake flips open their journal. “The downward slope likely leads us to the basement. The stairs lead us to a balcony where the previous group met the Behemoth Magistrate. Neither option sounds particularly enticing. Thoughts?”

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

Sakio reaches out with her rapier and taps the vine-wire mesh. "Either way, it doesn't seem as if we are able to proceed without choosing a path."

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.” Their tone is dripping with sarcasm

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

"Uh. Hm. Why not fight the Behemoth? We are already like. Here."

 Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

"Basement..." Sammy repeats, staring in its direction.

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

“Behemoth Magistrate. It isn’t the Behemoth itself,” they say. “Whatever it is, apparently the group became sick after speaking with him and refused to share what they learned in their notes.”

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

"Hm. Maybe it can tell us where the Behemoth is. Bee-line to them."

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

"Buzz buzz," Camellia mumbles, adjusting their axe on their shoulder.

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

Lena points to them, very serious, like they were making a good point. "Buzz buzz."

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

Camellia grins and reaches out their axe to smack against Lena's bat. Clunk.

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

“I’d also like to speak to the magistrate,” they mumble. “It frustrates me that the previous group refused to share whatever they learned.”

 Ilse Belanger (Ralu)

“I’m curious about what the Magistrate is like…” Ilse mumbles, lost in thought. Then abruptly turns turns to Sammy. “What do you think?”

 Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

Sammy is still looking in the direction of the basement. "Hmm...If you want to see the Magistrate, that's okay." Sammy fiddles with their sleeves, "The little guy...can wait..."

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

Lena puts a hand on their shoulder. "We can come back right after we talk with the. The mage. For sure."

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

You climb up a small flight of stairs to reach a simple balcony, a platform of sorts jutting out of the side of the wall something like thirty feet off the ground of an enormous chamber. There's a raised railing keeping you from falling, but it's probably still a little disorienting. But the chamber is hardly empty. There's an enormous thing in the direct center, shaped like a tree and something like fifty feet tall, but it isn't really a plant. You've never seen a tree with wings before, bright and stiff and glowing with neon phosphorescence. The roots below look almost like massive cables, with pulses of little greenish-blue light pulsing along them, up that dark trunk and up to the leaves above, that canopy shifting endlessly as if swarming in circles from a breeze that does not touch this stale air.

Identify yourselves.

A voice comes from nowhere, odd and stilted, echoing in this place. It seems distinctly false, the way your phone's personal assistant or automated text reading might. Human-adjacent, but not human.

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

Blake shakes their head, trying to reorient themselves. “You’re the behemoth magistrate, I take it.”

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

There's a hum, like the whir of computation.

That is my identification, not yours. Identify yourselves.

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

A flash of irritation across Blake’s face. “Collectively, we are known as the hunters. Is that satisfactory for you?”

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

Hunters.

The Magistrate is silent, whirring once more.

One who searches. Or, one who kills. The title implies both the existence of prey, and your relationship to it.

A pulse of light ignites one of the wings, flickering off in a shower of sparks.

Analysis: your Persona identifies itself as one known as 'Artemis.' Artemis is said to be a virginal maiden, a patron protector, and the stainless butcher. Query: which of these titles best describes you?

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

Blake’s eyes widen for a moment, and they’re quiet for awhile. None of those titles are exactly correct, nor are they necessarily wrong… They can’t call themselves a protector, they don’t have the right to such a claim. Someone who spends a lifetime looking out for themselves at the cost of others can’t claim such a title. But they can’t refer to themselves as a butcher, an outright admission of guilt for that of which they are innocent. Admitting that is a slap in the face of all their efforts up to this point, up until now. It is unacceptable.

And they’re quiet for awhile, and they look at the floor, and they look at this creature, and they close their eyes. Say it and be done. “I suppose,” they begin, their voice oddly shaking. “Of the choices you’ve given me… the first… is perhaps the most accurate.” Do they owe this creature honesty? Or perhaps, it’s easy to write off as a lie. But they could not bring themselves to say either of the other options. Even a liar like them dares not lie that boldly.

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

Lena grunts. "You don't have to. Say that."

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

Registered.

There's another resonant hum. Sakio shifts to stand in front of you, Blake, and puts an arm out like she's shielding you from the Magistrate. There's a horrid, shuddering tension in her, a silent fury. Like she doesn't know what to say, simply stewing in bitterness.

Analysis: you whose Persona has identified itself as 'Chorus,' you are the oldest of these 'Hunters,' yet you hold yourself within a lesser rank. You are a teacher, and yet your students guide you. Query: why is this?

Sakio is silent further, like she's contemplating her answer carefully. "My students are not children," she says, low and strained. "Many of them have already suffered at the hands of those I cannot reach, and they've all grown up faster than they should have. Should I coddle them, they will never boom, never learn what they need to in order to survive." She swallows, an unsteady breath escaping her. "I cannot protect them from the world, or from my mistakes. But I can protect them from you." Her brand flickers with barely-contained brilliance.

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

Lena drags her hands across her face.

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

"Feels like we've done this song and dance before, huh?" Camellia kicks a small rock across the balcony. "I'm pretty sure I liked it better when Prim did it."

There's an odd pulse of light, tinged a slightly different color, the phosphorescence shifting slightly. Define 'Prim.'

Camellia quirks an eyebrow. "Prim? Uh...she said her name was...Primrose?"

Primrose. Yet another whir. Results: Primula Vulgaris, common Primrose. Primula from the Latin word 'prime,' meaning first, and Vulgaris, meaning widespread. Eyes in the dark. The final words come as almost a whisper, an unnatural addition, nearly another voice entirely. Conclusion: Unknown factor.

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

"Can you please stop fucking. Google searching shit. Where's the behemoth?"

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

The hums grow louder and resonant, stacking atop each other. You realize, it's laughing at you.

Reiterating: I am the Behemoth. The balcony shakes, and the entire tree adjusts itself, seeming to inflate with a deep breath. I am the one who wields the dream of Justice, heir to the Cable Canopy. This place is my birthright. I am its ruler, and its maker, and its progenitor. I am the Alpha and Omega of this realm.

Blake, your journal snaps open. Red ink scars itself across the page. The Behemoth Magistrate Justice Arcana T U L G E Y W O O D S

That is, excepting a single tumorous growth. The tree deflates again. Statement: the beast scars my world. Statement: you are hunters. Suggestion: you should...hunt.

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

“We should hunt, you say?” Blake will summon Artemis, bow aimed at the magistrate. “Consider it done.”

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

Artemis's arrow slams into the bark of the tree a solid few inches, stays there, and then vanishes.

Suggestion: do not do that.

The wings are going to shudder and pulse, igniting with sparks of voltage, and then the glow fades color completely.

Invoke: Megido Pulse.

One of the wings swipes towards the platform, and a distortion tears through the air. Sakio, who is still in front of Blake, pushes the other Hunters away and then braces herself.

 AvraeBOT

@Everyone Else (DaxieVane) Result: 4d6 (5, 6, 2, 1) + 12 Total: 26

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

fuuuck

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

sakio takes 21 points of damage

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

Does she survive that?

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

yeah she's about half health right now

"I told you," she says, through grit teeth. "You're not going to hurt them."

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

"Ok, ok, ok. Let's. Think. We do that."

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

As the attack hits and they’re shoved back by Sakio, Blake yells out. ”Fuck.” And they push themselves, calling on Artemis again through the strain. As the smoke clears, Artemis fires an arrow into Sakio, and she’s reinvigorated.

“Don’t die,” they whisper at her through gritted teeth. “Don’t you fucking dare die for me.”

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

Sakio nods, but doesn't face you. "I won't," she says, quiet again, soft. "Thank you."

 Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

Sammy is startled, but finds the courage to face Tulgey and ask, "Uhm...excuse me..." They're trying to act polite, but they keep looking around the room at their friends. "Hm...nevermind..." Sammy looks to Sakio, worried, but not saying anything at all.

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

You have my attention. Query: what is that you want?

 Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

Sammy pulls at their hoodie, like they weren't expecting that. "Uh...uhm...you're the ruler of this place, as we can see..." They start fiddling with their sleeves, "So uhm...you should know all that goes on around here. Do you know..." What we're hunting. The rooms. Puck. They look at Blake for reassurance, but quickly forgets about it and decides to go with something else. "...about the little guy? I heard there's a little guy...in the...basement..."

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

Another hum, this one a little louder than the others.

Analysis: basement refers to lower level occupied by the minions of the Rapacious Behemoth. Conclusion: 'little guy' would refer to the minions of– Tulgy stops talking. The hum picks up again, warping and warbling.

Results: Tangerine is a small citrus fruit hybridized from mandarin oranges. Results: Tango is a South American dance requiring two partnered participants. Query: why do these two words produce identical reactions within your heart?

 Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

Sammy winces. "What--?" They can feel their stomach turning. "Why did you say that all of a sudden? Y-You're..." They look really upset, they're practically clawing at their sleeves. "THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH WHAT I ASKED YOU! YOU DIDN'T EVEN--" They're physically shaking now, but they try their best to calm down by looking around the room. New friends. Good friends. Can't see you...upset. They take a deep breath. "Isn't that what the words mean? A T-Tango is a dance between two people and a T-Tangerine is a fruit, they're actually really good, you should try some..." They're trying to joke around, "Maybe we can share some later and be...friends...or something..."

 Ilse Belanger (Ralu)

Ilse takes a step closer and Sammy’s hand

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

Lena gets closer to them and very carefully puts a hand around their shoulders. Then she turns her head and glares with all her fucking might at the bastard upsetting her friend. "Do you wanna fucking die?"

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

Sakio similarly reaches out and rests a light touch on their shoulder.

No. While my directive requires death, it is not my death which I desire to enact.

Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

”Tango, wasn’t it? What you said back then, at the spire. I’m assuming who or whatever that was is one such secret.”

“Tangerine.”

…so they weren’t wrong, after all. How interesting. Blake looks at Sammy, then back up at the magistrate, and then turns and walks back over to Sammy, standing between them and the magistrate. “If I need not bare my soul,” they say with a shrug. “Nor do you.” Eyes dart back up toward the magistrate, then to the stairs. “Let’s go. We can return here after we examine the basement. You wanted to go there, after all, didn’t you?” And they smile fondly. After all… they didn’t want this creature revealing everything. The one to pull apart the masks of the other hunters and reveal their secrets would be Blake, and no one else.

 Ilse Belanger (Ralu)

Ilse stares at the Magistrate, unmoving or unwilling to. “You speak of justice but I think you are not fair with this, even if you are just curious. You bare our souls and remain opaque. So allow me to be curious myself: What’s with your voices? Where do you get your knowledge from? It can’t be just our hearts”

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

Rhetorical query: what is a Behemoth? Another chorus of hums, like a cascade of laughter. Definition: a Behemoth is a dream who exists to spin the world around them, whose existence warps Fractals to suit their nature. As I am my father's son, I have inherited a fragment of his world.

Sakio's eyes widen at that. She mouths the word 'father,' eyes glazed over with thought, brow furrowed, like she's trying to piece together an equation in her head.

The Dream at my core is 'Omnipotence.' It shapes my form, my essence, my very self. This world bends itself to provide me knowledge, and my roots have grown so very far indeed. I can taste your truths in the air, sample them like pollen or your sickening pheromones. Query: does this assuage your curiosity?

 Ilse Belanger (Ralu)

“Partially.” Ilse grins but not amused. “It also disappoints me a bit. I’ve heard of omnipotence quite a lot in my life, but I’ve never got to speak to someone with that goal in reach. Just one old question: Isn’t it…boring?”

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

To know all things is to know oneself, as each individual is macrocosmically reflected unto reality. Observation: you have strived to understand your own identity and your place in the world you call 'home.' In order to achieve that result, you have sacrificed a comfortable lie in order to achieve a more complex and dangerous truth. This truth has brought you no end to difficulty, and suffering. Query: would you describe the results of that search as dull? Further query: would you describe that truth as worth the cost you paid for it?

 Ilse Belanger (Ralu)

Ilse gives Blake a look, mostly to signal that they are ready to go, almost. They grit their teeth and turn back to to Tulgey. “Rhetorical query, I assume? But it’s only fair bare both souls. No, I don’t consider it dull. Yes, it is worth the price, always will be. But I disagree with the unspoken premise. To know is not to change anything outside of yourself. Though…” The tree, the walls, the Behemoth somewhere close… “that distinction may not be the same for you.”

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

...registered. Tulgey's wings wave in a nonexistent wind, and you hear a light almost screeching noise coming all the way down from the base of the stairs. Hunters. Observation: there is yet knowledge you posses that may prove useful to me. Offer: should you linger within my domain, I shall not cause you harm, so long as none of you act against me or my subjects. Should you decide to act upon your namesake and hunt the Rapacious Behemoth, I will provide you assistance and guidance. Conversation concluded. Bit by bit, the humming silences itself. And it is quiet in the chamber again.

"Let's take our leave," Sakio says, a quiet note to her tone, something far more somber than earlier today. She wipes a bit of blood off the corner of her mouth and turns towards the staircase. "Our work is not yet done."

You all reach the bottom of the stairs again, where you see that the cables have retreated from the pathway, leaving only a mess of thick vines too close to squeeze through. Sakio turns back to all of you. "Does anyone need a breather? There's no shame in taking some rest, especially after something that..." She trails off, like she's not sure what word to use.

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

“Farce,” Blake completes for her, no shortage of poison dripping off their their voice.

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

"Yes," Sakio agrees, quietly.

 Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

"I've breathed enough." They mumble.

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

"... Maybe the little guy will be our friend?" She smiles encouragingly, if a little strained.

 Ilse Belanger (Ralu)

“I”m fine” Ilse almost sounds like it is true

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

Camellia just glances around the rest, and raises a hand like they're about to say something, but aborts the motion halfway and just scratches the back of their head. "Fuck it, basement time."

 Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

Sammy crosses their arms, "That little guy has been waiting long enough. They're dying for a can of peaches right now!" They say this mainly to Lena, as if to reassure her that everything is okay, but their expression stays neutral.

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

"... Yeah. Sorry." And she starts walking towards the basement.

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

As you lower yourselves down the side of the hill, probably remembering any forest hikes you might have been on, the cacophany hits you first. An incredibly familiar chant, a mantra on infinite repeat. It doesn't quite sound exactly as it did back then though, more like a work song than an idosyncratic tic.

"Hee-ho. Hee-ho. Hee-ho."

"Oh for fuck's sake," Sakio mumbles.

Finally, you reach the bottom, and you all take in the sight as you come to realize that Blake's notes contain another sizable inaccuracy. This place isn't a basement. It's a farm. There are dozens of pieces of jagged wood assembled into large rectangles, holding beds of darkened, fertilized dirt, being tilled and planted and harvested by a swarm of small, round Shadows. They're snow-white besides for their mossy hats, the ring of leaves and acorns around their necks, their wooden shoes, and their large green-yellow eyes. Out of the dirt sprouts every type of plant and vegetable you can imagine, and quite a few you can't, in all different stages of growth. And at the very bottom of the hill, in front of you all, is yet another Shadow, this one wearing a cape of leaves and holding a staff almost as big as they are, rather than the farming implements the others have. "Gree-heetings, guests of the Rapacious One! Do you come to bring us further sacrifices?"

Blake, your journal snaps open. Jack Moss Magician Arcana

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

“Remind me,” Blake groans. “To have a word with whoever composed these notes…” They sigh.

 Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

Sammy's eyes light up, as if they were never feeling down in the first place. "Cute..."

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

lena is gonna hunt down the most fucked up plant growing here and try to eat it

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

are you going to attempt to walk past the Moss in front of you? there's no other way into the farm that you can see

Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

Sammy is gonna try to pet the jack moss

Lena Tarr (Dave)

oh yes absolutely. not even like. in a rude way lena just rlly thinks that she can go wherever and no one can tell her shit

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

The Moss just sort of reacts nonchalantly when you touch him. "This is very unorthodox, hee-ho!" But when Lena tries to walk past, he sticks out the staff in front of her, blocking her way. "No outsiders allowed! This is the sacred farm, hee-ho, where we grow sacrifices to appease our Rapacious goddess. Her hunger is endless, hee-ho!"

Camellia shudders. "Never thought aggressive cheeriness would make me feel sick to my stomach, but here we are."

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

"... This is a cult, huh."

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

“Indeed,” Blake says with a grin. “The cuteness is somewhat undermined by their sinister intentions…”

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

"I don't know what that word mea-hee-ns!"

 Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

Sammy beams at the Jack Moss "You're so cute!" Sammy wants to pet them more but is holding back.

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

"Okay!" He holds out a little hand. "If you don't have any sacrifices for the Rapacious one, we-hee will have to make you-ho the sacrifices. Sacrifices are necessary!"

"I think we should provide...sustenance?" Sakio says, already reaching into her bag.

Camellia quick-snaps a plastic-bagged bagel out of theirs and basketball tosses it across the group to the Moss. It bounces off his head. "Thank you for your sacrifice, hee-ho!" he says, endlessly cheery.

Another Moss rushes behind and picks up the bagel before scurrying off.

Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

Sammy quickly reaches under their poncho into what you can only assume is a pocket or bag. They pull out a can of peaches. "If I give you this, can we be friends? Can I give you another pet and we can be friends?"

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane) — Yesterday at 5:49 PM

"I don't know what that word means e-hee-ther!"

"Give him the peaches!" Camellia calls from the back of the group.

 Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

Sammy gently places the can of peaches in front of their new friend.

"It just means I can call you my friend and I can pet you and you're my buddy now." They grin, as if to say, the pact is sealed.

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

"Okay!" He picks up the can of peaches and tosses it over his shoulder to another Moss. "Thank you for your sacrifice, hee-ho." And he tilts his head expectantly at the rest of you.

Sakio is gonna hand over some basic snacks as well, which are unceremoniously chucked to an awaiting Moss.

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

Blake scoffs. “I don’t have anything to give to this creature.”

 Ilse Belanger (Ralu)

“Do you want one of my snacks for him?” Ilse grabs two light snacks out of their bag and hands one to Blake

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

The Jack Moss nods excitedly at you, Blake, and turns to some of the other Shadows. "Get the spear please, hee-ho! We have another–"

"No that's quite alright, I have their sacrifice right here," Sakio says quickly, pulling another few snacks out of her bag and handing them over.

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

Lena rummages through her pockets. She finds a few mint candies. The discolored wrappers show that they've been through many a wash. She gives them to the Moss anyway.

Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

“Ah.” They twitch for a moment with something approximating guilt, but it’s hard to tell. “Thank you,” they mumble, to whichever character gave up their snacks for them-

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

Everyone but Blake, you lose 1x Basic Snack

 Lena Tarr (Dave)

ill give em a theo snack if they let me in on a fucked up veggie

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

"Thank you for your sacrifices, hee-ho!" The Moss stands up proudly, smacking his stick down into the dirt. "As the Voice of the Rapacious One, I hereby decree-hee that for their generous sacrifices, and for helping our fellow pe-hee-ons, that these ho-humans shall be guests in our goddess's realm. All hail the Rapacious One!" "All hail, hee-ho!" comes the resounding cacophony.

Lena. if you wanna try convincing them to let you take a vegetable. i will let you do a weighted charm roll. and i will let you know that things will go Very Bad if you fail.

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

“Lena,” Blake mutters, unmoving in their place on the slope. “Please, do not.”

Lena Tarr (Dave)

Lena does not.

But unhappily so.

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

:Oc I thought she would anyway

 Lena Tarr (Dave

fdfgdfgdf she cares a lot abt her teammates. more than abt eating very suspicious stuff that she shouldnt eat gdfgfdgfd

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

i know this and i love her

 Ilse Belanger (Ralu)

Ilse joins Sammy in giving the main Moss some pets, visibly delighted

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

“Idiots,” Blake mutters quietly. “The lot of you.”

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

the Moss feels kinda soft, a little spongy, honestly a bit damp. but it kinda humid down here, so that last part isn't that unexpected.

 Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

Sammy looks at Blake with a stare that could kill. "You know you want to join us"

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

Blake looks between Sammy and the Moss, quirking an eyebrow. “No,” they say. “I… don’t think I do.”

 Sammy Cabra (Nyanko)

Sammy whines, "But it's so cool...and cute..."

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

Sakio looks around the farm, rubbing her chin. "I'm going to make a reasonable assumption, I believe. These Shadows are acting in service of a Behemoth, and the Magistrate mentioned a Rapacious–"

"Do you work for the Magistrate, hee-ho?" The Moss's voice is lower now, still almost cheery, but ever so slightly darker.

 Blake Leto (Jane 🐈)

“Magistrate?” they ask with a feigned look of ignorant curiosity. “Not familiar, no. Why do you ask?”

 Everyone Else (DaxieVane)

“Oh, whew!” The Moss wipes off his brow dramatically. “I was worried you were another hee-heretic, ho! Like those other humans who came here.” You can see a few Mosses creeping up nearer to you, collectively carrying a single huge jousting lance, but as soon as they hear that, they scurry off back out of sight.

Camellia points after them, looking around at the rest of you with a very ‘everyone just saw that, right?’ sort of expression, but doesn’t have a chance to say anything before the Moss speaks again.

“The Magistrate is a very bad and very evil false idol, hee-ho! He keeps sending his minions to take over our goddess’s land, probably to steal her sacrifices and make us his slaves!” The entire farm erupts in a cacophony of hee-hisses and ho-boos. “Say…you humans are pretty strong right?” The Voice Moss’s empty grin seems to grow wider. “If you kill that false idol, hee-ho, I will decree you a place in the Rapacious One’s great kingdom! I could even show you where his weak-hee point is, ho. So-ho? What do you think?”

#the hunters #hunters highlights #sammy cabra #erin sakio #blake leto #camellia pavel #lena tarr #ilse belanger

[thethespacecoyote]

"Beer and Brothers”

“So, what’s with the unicorn thing?” Rhys waved the opener as Tim rejoined him on the couch with his own beer and a plate of steaming hot stuffed mushrooms. Tim sat with a snicker, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

“That’s Jack’s. He’s got kind of a unicorn obsession.”

“Jack?”

“I…my brother? Jack? You didn’t forget, did you?” Tim popped the cap off his own beer with a hiss. Rhys’ brow twitched, taking a sip of the beer as if it’d help him remember.

“I….vaguely…but I don’t think I ever met him?” He recalled a fuzzy mention of Tim’s brother at some point, maybe a childhood picture or two. But nothing concrete. Obviously, not enough to help him even remember that Tim even had a sibling.

This is a meme ask that kind of got out of control, haha. Rhys comes back home from college for the summer and reconnects with Tim, who is now living with his older brother....no prizes if you guess what happens when Rhys finally meets him. 

Despite sending out nearly a dozen applications, Rhys was ending his freshman year of college without an internship or even any concrete plans on what he was going to spend his summer doing. He’d been holding out on the hope that one of the places that hadn’t outright rejected him might get back to him at the eleventh hour, but as he’d finished his finals and started packing, he’d had to admit defeat.

Rhys had comforted himself with the knowledge that there were still two more summers before he graduated and got thrust out into the real world, leaving him with two more chances to land that sweet internship that would secure him a lucrative job and show up everyone who’d judged him by his pretty-boy looks rather than his intellect.

Though honestly? When he arrived home, he found it actually refreshing to be back to the suburbs after spending the last few months in the more urban environment of his college. Going back to his home base, in his own room and with all the stuff he hadn’t been able to bring with him, was nice, as was not having to worry about what he was going to eat without risking the freshman fifteen that had loomed every time he’d stepped foot in the school cafeterias. Dad was busy, and Mom worked part time, but the fridge and pantries were still stocked and more importantly, free, so Rhys was pretty happy.

A couple days after coming home he’d decided to take a walk around the neighborhood after a decent enough breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. He’d laced up the sneakers that had barely got any runtime during the semester and started on an easy jog, happy to feel the summer air on his skin.

The neighborhood had changed little since Rhys had seen it back around Christmas. Some of the houses that had been mid-remodel looked a little more complete, now, the portable toilets and chainlink fences now replaced with fresh new terra cotta porches and gardens full of sustainable succulents. A couple buildings boasted fresh new coats of paint, or new gutters, or any number of little things Rhys vaguely noted were different.

He puffed, slowing his pace as he rounded a corner, now more interested in observing the buildings lining the street than really pushing himself to exercise. Eventually he slowed to a walk, sticking his hands in his sweatpants pockets.

Most of the houses looked the same, aside from a slight change in foliage due to the nascent summer season. The very same bundle of olive trees flanked the far side of the Springs’ house, and as Rhys drew near the very familiar barking of Zoomy echoed from beyond the front gate as the fat little daschund scratched his paws up against the mesh.

He stopped for a moment to coo at the dog, chuckling as it yipped louder and hopped around in little circles. Rhys wondered if Janey had some dog-walking she needed done over the summer. Might be a good way to make money, and he liked dogs well enough, even one who thought they were still a puppy like Zoomy.

As he continued down the sidewalk, he expected to next pass the Lawrence house, resting in the shade of Janey and Athena’s huge, rustling olive trees. The house was a sight he’d gotten used to in his teenaged years, when he and Vaughn typically swung by to pick up Tim on their way down to the shoreline to hang out.

But as he walked beyond the trees, expecting to see the dumpy, pale yellow home with the sagging white crown molding and spare lawn, he found there was no longer anything there.

Later that night, at dinner, Rhys decided to bring it up to his parents.

“So,” Rhys piped up as soon as he swallowed a mouthful of cauliflower, “I was out walking today and uh, the place where the Lawrences lived isn’t like….there, anymore?”

“Oh. The Lawrence house was condemned during the spring….didn’t we tell you that?” his mother questioned.

Rhys figured they might have, but perhaps he’d forgotten due to over-focus on exams and projects and getting into the habit of doing his laundry once a week.

“Probably…did something happen to Tim? Or um. You-know-who?”

“I would have thought Tim would have told you…she passed a little after the New Year.” Rhys’ eyes widened.

“Oh wow…”

“It might be a good idea to give him a call? I heard he had moved in with family, but I’m not sure what happened beyond that…”

“Y-Yeah.” Rhys nodded numbly. “That’s probably a good plan.”

As soon as dinner was over and his plate cleared, Rhys rushed to his room, yanking out his phone and scrolling to Tim’s contact info He dialed it and flicked it on speaker, praying that Tim hadn’t changed his number. He nervously tapped the side of his phone at the dial tone, heart leaping when it stopped with a click and a familiar voice echoed throughout his room.

“Hello?”

“Tim! It’s Rhys,” he chimed, giddy feeling in his belly. He hadn’t realized it’d been so long since he’d actually spoken to one of his closest friends.

“Oh my god, Rhys, it’s been forever.” Tim sounded pretty good, which was encouraging. At least that meant he probably wasn’t living on the streets.

“Right? You know how it is. College and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, I know Mr. Smart Guy.” Rhys could practically hear Tim’s smile. “So what’s up?”

“Dude, I saw your house, or uh. Where your house used to be,” Rhys corrected, his mouth open to give Tim his condolences when a happy little chuckle fed from the other end of the conversation.

“Yeah, right? Good riddance.”

“Huh?”

“I’ve got a new place now. Million times better than my old one. You wanna come by and see it?”

“I—wait, you have a new place? How? When? Who is—”

“Rhys,” Tim interrupted, “this’ll be easier to explain in person….how about you come by. Whenever you’re free?”

“I’m free all the time,” Rhys said a little too quickly, but to be honest, he was more than curious about what exactly Tim had been up to while he’d been away at college.

It sounded like they had a lot of catching up to do.

When Rhys had thought about the kind of apartment Tim might get, he’d imagined a smaller, quainter looking place—maybe a rented bungalow where part of the expense was waived on the agreement the tenant would care for the resident cats.

Not the large, fancy, beachside condo that the address Tim had given him had led him to.

But when he knocked on the door, it was definitely Tim who opened it—and scooped him up in a big hug, those familiar strong arms wrapping around Rhys’ waist and lifting him up on his tip-toes.

“Whew, you’re a lot stronger than you used to be, huh?” Rhys wheezed when Tim finally plunked him back down on his heels, grin still bright. His freckles were practically twinkling—jeez, when had he last seen Tim this happy?

“There’s a gym on the first floor, it’s great, fucking state-of-the-art, been spending a lot of time there.” Tim waved him into the apartment proper, shutting the door behind him with the beep of the electronic lock.

“Holy shit,” Rhys blurted as Tim lead him into the massive living room, leaving Rhys to seriously wonder about whether his friend had just decided to shack up in a set for a luxury home and garden magazine. Only the handful of touches—such as the video game system set into the oakwood entertainment center, as well as the lavish, full-color movie posters and vintage cheese and beefcake pictures alike framed on the walls—signified that something other than aesthetic and dust lived here.  

“I mean….talk about an upgrade.”

Tim bobbed on his feet, blue kitten socks squeaking against the hardwood floors. Practically giddy.

“You’re telling me. So much better. I mean, when Grandma died there was no point in me staying there any longer anyway. The place was already a mess—you remember.” Tim shuddered. Honestly, Rhys hadn’t been over to the Lawrence place in quite some time, the last visit being long before he left for college. As much as he’d always liked Tim and enjoyed his company, his grandma was well….not to speak of the dead, but she’d been a stone-cold bitch. He wasn’t that broken up about it and thankfully neither was Tim.

“No more piles of ancient newspaper and hidden rusty buzz saws…you remember when I had to get a tetanus shot? God. I’m glad to be out of there and in here,” Tim grinned, throwing out his arms in the wide open space. “It’s soooo much nicer.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Rhys snickered. Tim’s lips quirked up secretively, leaning in and whispering though they were the only ones in the apartment.

“You know…if you want to…we totally can.”

“Really?” It wouldn’t be Rhys first time drinking alcohol. His uncle had given him a sip of Southern Comfort when he was twelve and he’d been to a couple frat parties over the course of the semesters whenever he’d had a break. But drinking and chilling in Timothy’s fancy new house sounded a lot more appealing than either of those experiences had been.

“My brother’s super chill. He lets me borrow his beer as long as it stays in the apartment and I promise not to go out while I’m wasted.” Tim led Rhys towards the sleek kitchen, opening the huge steel fridge and pulling two beers out of the clanking drawer.  

“Hold on, I’m gonna heat us up some stuffed mushrooms from last night. Bro’s a fucking amazing cook.” Tim waved Rhys back off to the living room as he grabbed a glass tupperware from the fridge and kicked the door shut.

Rhys was still a year shy of the drinking age, but in the privacy of the apartment and with Tim’s insistence he accepted the beer from his friend and took a seat on the couch. He peered at the label as Tim buzzed the leftovers in the microwave, snorting at the almost pointlessly ornate design of a unicorn dabbed in gold leaf and surrounded by diamonds and twirling Celtic branches one might find reproduced in a history book.

“Here, catch,” Tim called as he appeared in the doorway, tossing something weighty and metallic in Rhys’ direction. He caught it deftly, raising an eyebrow at the design. Unicorn themed, like the label, with the opener proper sticking out of the horse’s head where the horn would normally be. Rhys stuck tongue out between his lips as he nudged the bottle opener underneath the cap, carefully popping it open.

“So, what’s with the unicorn thing?” Rhys waved the opener as Tim rejoined him on the couch with his own beer and a plate of steaming hot stuffed mushrooms. Tim sat with a snicker, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

“That’s Jack’s. He’s got kind of a unicorn obsession.”

“Jack?”

“I…my brother? Jack? You didn’t forget, did you?” Tim popped the cap off his own beer with a hiss. Rhys’ brow twitched, taking a sip of the beer as if it’d help him remember.

“I….vaguely…but I don’t think I ever met him?” He recalled a fuzzy mention of Tim’s brother at some point, maybe a childhood picture or two. But nothing concrete. Obviously, not enough to help him even remember that Tim even had a sibling.

“You wouldn’t have. Jack’s lived abroad for years, mostly doing business and things like that…” Tim scratched the back of his head. “For awhile now he’s been moving up the ranks of…well…he recently got promoted to head of programming at Hyperion.”

“Hyperion? Are you serious?” Rhys balked. He had no idea that Tim’s older brother worked for one of the biggest defense contractors on the entire planet. Hyperion was the kind of group so big and with its fingers in so many pots that even mentioning its name was cause for controversy back on his campus. Rhys liked to think he had a more nuanced view of the company now than he had as a teenager, but its power and unusual flashiness for such a serious business still had a hold on him.

Not to mention, Hyperion internships were some of the most sought after for programmers and engineers. Rhys had tried for one earlier in the year as a lark, and the little hope he’d had at getting it had been dashed fairly quickly. Hyperion was very efficient in its rejection.

Tim gulped down a mouthful of beer, scrubbing the foam from his lips.

“Yeah, like I said…he’s pretty far up there now…so that’s why we have such a nice place. Jack put up the money for it. Bought it outright.”

“H-he bought it?” Rhys was lucky he’d already swallowed his beer, otherwise he might’ve choked. He’d never heard of anyone just…buying an apartment. Was that even legal?

“Yeah, so no worries about rent. Jack still wants me to get a job to help with food, but well…it’s not exactly crucial you know?”

“Oh my god. How rich is he?”

“He works for Hyperion, Rhys. So….gonna say….pretty damn rich. Rich enough that I don’t have to worry about ever living in a place like the old house ever again.”

Tim turned a little sideways on the couch, leaning in like he was about to tell a secret.

“You know…Grandma was pretty old, but it wasn’t like she was dying or anything.” Tim hummed, smacking his lips in between sips of beer. “I kind of wonder sometimes if like…Jack somehow had her killed.”

Rhys snorted, shoving his shoulder.

“You’re not serious.”

“Mmmm. Maybe not,” Tim’s throat bobbed as he drained his beer, letting the empty bottle dangle from his fingers. “But if anyone could do it and make it look like an accident…”

“Please, Tim, he’s not fucking James Bond,” Rhys snickered, closing one eye and peering into the depths of his own bottle. An inch or so of liquid sloshed at the bottom, and Tim had already finished his first beer—he really needed to catch up.

He leaned his head against the back of the couch, dramatically tipping the beer up like he was trying to balance it on his lips as he chugged, Tim’s giggly chanting nearly making him snort it up his nose before he finished it with a gasp.

“That’s good stuff right there…I think…” Rhys burped as he wedged the empty bottle between the couch cushions, choosing to sit and rub the fuzzy suede of the couch while Tim got up and grabbed them another pair of beers.

By the time the front door clicked open he and Tim had already drunk half of their bottles respectively, giggling like children as they reminisced about their high school days. Rhys perked up at the sound of footsteps echoing against the wooden floors, followed by the jangle of the trash can and a smooth, masculine voice.

“Are you getting into the IPA again Timmy? I swear if you keep this up I’m gonna make you pay for i—oh.”

Oh.

Rhys pulled the lip of the bottle away from his mouth, momentarily frozen by the man that had suddenly walked through the doorway into the living room.

For a moment, he wondered if maybe he had been right all along and Tim was shacking up somewhere he wasn’t supposed to, and this was the realtor stripped from the billboards and sent to kick them out.

But then Tim snorted, rolling his eyes as he tipped the beer all the way back down his throat.

“Eat me, Jack, you wanna keep me out so bad you can put a lock on the drawer.” He smacked his lips with a satisfied gasp as Rhys stared, recognition dawning on his face.

So this was Jack.

Globe-trotter Jack. Wealthy beyond his wildest dreams Jack. Programming head at Hyperion Jack.

Handsome Jack.

Oh God. He was handsome.

It was as if Tim was the base model for one of those video game where you could customize your own character and someone had pulled and pinched and yanked him out until he was taller, broader, and more angular. Rhys could still see the similarities in their face and eyes—honestly, they looked more alike than most siblings Rhys had encountered did—but Jack was sharper, his chin more prominent and shoulders broader and cheeks wiped clean of the charming little freckles that dotted Tim’s face.

Rhys knew he must have seen a picture of Jack somewhere in the five years that he’s known Tim, but he doesn’t remember being this struck by his appearance before. Maybe he was the kind of guy more suited to real life than photography, with a kind of magnetism accenting an already aesthetically pleasing picture. Though Rhys can’t imagine that, if he were to be a creep and snap a picture right now, that Jack would look bad. It seemed as impossible as perpetual motion.

Maybe he was exaggerating. Rhys had heard of “beer goggles” before, but even if he was drunkenly inflating Jack’s handsomeness to godly proportions, well, that still meant that he had to be pretty damn hot. He felt on the verge of a heart attack right now, so even if sober-vision Jack ended up popped down a few pegs, he would definitely still send Rhys’ affection aflutter.

What was it Rhys had said earlier? That Jack was no James Bond? He took it back. He had the look, the international intrigue, the fancy clothes and commanding presence. He could very well be a super spy. At the very least he should be on TV. If Jack appeared on a commercial trying to sell him as expensive as cologne or as mundane as dish soap his bank account would drop just as fast as his boxers.

“Your little friend okay there?” Jack grunted, jabbing a finger in Rhys’ direction. Though he’d been addressing Tim instead of him, Rhys still nodded, flighty little smiles fighting with his need to appear cool as he did so.

“Oh, he’s just a little drunk is all.” Tim waved off, gathering up the empty beers laying around the couch and coffee table.

“What, is it his first time? Kid looks like a hamster staring down a rabid dog.”

Jack cocked his head, narrowing his eyes at Rhys. God, the way his tanned skin crinkled around eyes piercing as the tropic waters Rhys envisioned him lounging around on, his shirt off and hopefully broad pecs and strong, lifting arms on display and maybe even glistening with coconut oil coating Rhys’ hands—

“Hah, holy crap, I think you broke him,” Jack snickered, suddenly really close to Rhys with a palm as big as his head waving right in front of his eyes. As Rhys blinked, he caught the glimpse of a couple details he’d somehow missed from gawking at Jack earlier—a sliver of a ring banded with amber and set with some kind of pretty blue stone, and a slightly faded azure tattoo encircling his wrist. He was starting to count the hairs on Jack’s forearm and note how they glinted with a sliver of the afternoon sun filtering from the windows when Jack’s hand moved and instead planted atop his head.

“What’s your name, pumpkin? If you’re that wasted, I can always make something up, buuuut Timmy will tell you not everyone is a fan of that.” Jack ruffled Rhys’ hair, his head moving with the force behind his hand. Rhys blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze of both the beer and the sudden rush of cologne wafting from Jack’s neck from his brain so he could respond without tripping over his tongue.

Jack leaned back away from Rhys as Tim returned, bringing Jack a beer of his own as well as a glass of water. The older man grinned brightly, taking the beer from his brother’s hands and clapping him on the shoulder.

“Aw, there’s a good boy, Timmy-Tams.”

Tim rolled his eyes.

“Don’t,” he sighed, taking a sip of water, “you better not be giving him a terrible nickname too.”

Jack rubbed his chin, a fiendish, thinking grin crawling over his face.

“Give me a sec, and I’m sure I can think of something appropriate for your little friend.”

Rhys’ heart fluttered, hoping he could pass of the blush as baby’s-first gin blossoms. He tipped his chin towards his chest, shyly hiding his face into his hoodie like a turtle.

“Here Rhys, have some water,” Tim sat down besides him, passing the glass of water.

“Don’t do it, kiddo, didn’t he tell ya? He totally backwashes.” Rhys spluttered slightly as Tim shot Jack an annoyed look.

“I do not. And stop, you’re gonna make him choke.”

“Hate to break it to you, Tim-Tums, with a face like that he’s probably used to it.”

“Oh fuck off, Jack,” Tim growled as he took the glass from Rhys’ lips, earning him a cuff on the head from his brother.

“Language, kiddo, jeez.” Tim flipped him off as Jack plunked down on the other side of Rhys, arm slinging over the back of the couch.  

“You staying for dinner, Rhysie-pie?” Rhys could feel Jack’s breath against his ear.

“Uh, um, can I…?”

“I dunno, can you?” Tim swatted Jack’s leg.

“You’re welcome to if you want. I’m sure Jack won’t be able to resist showing off his cooking skills to someone new.”

“College boy isn’t a vegetarian or something, is he? You know how those places can get. Cause I’m making filet and I ain’t going out to buy you a salad if you’re gonna whine.”

“N-No! Um, meat is great.”

“Heh. Ain’t that the truth.”

Rhys perked and nodded.

“Yeah. I love meat!”

“Shout it to the heavens, kiddo, amen,” Jack winked, patting Rhys’ knee before rising to stand. His fist clenched at the contact, feeling sweaty underneath his layers of clothes. Rhys’ heart leapt for a moment as Jack reached down, only to grab Tim by the wrist and tug him to his feet.

“Upsy-daisy, Timmy, I ain’t cooking while you too laze around getting wasted on my beer.”

“Ugh, fine,” Tim moaned, “lemme take a leak first though, ‘kay?”

“You’re gonna break the seal, pumpkin!” Jack called after him, smirking as he turned back to look at Rhys, who still sat, swaying slightly.

“You got enough mental faculty to help me out with dinner, kiddo, or should we just let you marinate for a bit longer? I can put on the TV if you need help zoning out.”

“N-No! I’d love to help!” Rhys blurted, stumbling up to his feet and willing his bones not to turn to jelly. Literally going weak-kneed around Jack would be embarrassing.

He followed the man into the kitchen, awkwardly supporting himself against the granite countertop as he dumbly watched Jack flit about, pulling ingredients and scattering them out in a pattern of composed chaos. Though he’d offered, he wasn’t sure what exactly to do to help and his voice was kind of stuck in his throat as he watched the fabric of Jack’s blazer pull and crinkle with each of his movements. God, it looked expensive and he really wanted to touch it. Run his hand up Jack’s back until he got to the sculpted whirlwind of hair twirling up his head in a style that was either meticulously crafted or simply sprayed into place right after waking. If Jack used any product, Rhys wanted to know.

The toilet flushed somewhere in the distance of the apartment. Rhys wasn’t sure if he wanted Tim to hurry up, or take his time washing his hands.

Rhys’ attention snapped away as Jack slapped three ruby-red, glistening cuts of meat against a rosewood cutting board, humming to himself as he raided the steel rack of spices and dashed them together in a small steel bowl. He tossed them with deft fingers, shaking the seasoning out on each flank of the meat, massaging it into the raw flesh.

Rhys looked away, staring pointedly at his fuzzy reflection in the toaster as Jack suddenly turned to look over his shoulder, flicking excess seasoning off his fingers with a faint splat.

“Aw crud. Tim-Tums!” Jack called over the distant sound of the faucet running.

“What?”

“I forgot the frikkin’ veggies in the Porsche, can you grab ‘em for me?”

Rhys heard the bathroom door creak open, Tim’s voice a lot less muffled.

“You can’t get them yourself? Really?”

“I got meat juice all over my hands, kiddo! You want me to stain the suede?”

“Ugh. Fine!” Tim called, appearing briefly through the kitchen doorway as he crossed the hallway from the bathroom to the front door. Jack tossed his keys expertly as Tim passed by, the man skillfully catching it. The click of the unlocked door swinging shut behind him left Rhys consciously aware of the reality that he was now alone in the apartment with Jack.

His fingers gripped the edge of the countertop, eyes hoping to return back to the toaster or one of the many other shiny appliances in the kitchen, but as he sought out a mundane distraction suddenly a crisp white shirt and undone collar and hint of bronze chest filled his view, and oh no, he was a goner.

“So this is the kid Timmy’s always been telling me about…lemme get a good proper look at you, pumpkin.”

Suddenly, Jack’s finger was on his jawline, tilting Rhys’ head up. His skin was a little greasy, a little wet from where he’d been handling the meat. It left a little trail over Rhys’ own skin as Jack started to stroke down to his chin, eyes searching Rhys’ face—for what, the young man didn’t know, but Jack must have found it quickly, because his sharp grin soon spread from cheekbone to cheekbone.

“Hah. Whoops. Sorry about that.” Jack lifted his fingers from Rhys’ jawline, rubbing the oily tips together so close to Rhys’ lips he cold nearly taste the fat. “Ah well. What’s a little meat juice between friends?” Jack’s eyes glimmered, showing off the slightly different hues that might just be a trick of the kitchen lighting.

“And we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Bet you’ve made a lot of new friends in college, huh Rhysiekins?”

Rhys nodded, voice sticking again.

Jack moved in closer, hands bracing on either side of Rhys, fingers close to the young man’s own on the granite of the counter’s edge. He could feel Jack’s ring brushing up against the side of his palm—it was warm, like his hand.

“You like ‘Rhysiekins,’ pumpkin? Or should I keep trying to find the perfect little nickname for you?” Jack’s voice was definitely slumming into a throaty purr that had the hair on the back of Rhys’ neck standing up. His voice managed to claw out of his throat but stumbled into his mouth, his eyelids fluttering like a hummingbird gorged on nectar.

“You have any plans for the summer, cupcake? Internships, jobs, volunteer work, partying?”

Rhys felt hypnotized, just barely able to eke out a response because he felt like Jack wanted it.

“Uh…n-not really…just gonna kind of hang out, you know?”

Jack’s hand lifted, pinning one of Rhys’ against the counter. He tapped it softly, sending blood pumping in time up to Rhys’ already full cheeks.

“Mm. Then I expect to see a lotta you around this place, ‘kay?”

“Y-Yes sir.” It slipped out before Rhys could stop it. Jack threw back his head and laughed, body swaying away from Rhys’.

“Sir! Oh, I like you kiddo.”

Jack liked him. He liked him. Rhys couldn’t stop the grin that split across his face even if he wanted to.

By the time Tim returned from the car, arm slung with reusable bags full of vegetables, Jack had moved away from Rhys to preheat the oven and grab another beer from the fridge. Rhys nodded at Tim’s silent question as he set the bags of produce on the counter, sure to stifle any lingering blush lest his best friend get a hint of what had happened between him and Jack. As hot as the man was, Rhys had just re-connected with Tim. He didn’t want to risk that.

But as he finished washing and handing the silky vegetables over to Jack—who deftly grasped them in his huge hands and sunk his blade into their juicy, yielding flesh—Rhys couldn’t help but feel like he’d finally found something he really wanted to do this summer.

#spacetext #fanfic #long post #rhack #modern AU #jack is like 27 in this #tftbl

[dio-roga]

‘AskMarshandBroflovski’

Author/Artist:              jovishark Additional Credit:        puppetamateur Status:                         Complete Links:                           Tumblr Rec No:                        #2 (Part One)

The Gist of It (aka. TLDR)

‘Stan and Kyle go through a whole lot of shit during their last couple years of high school; with side-characters and sub-plots galore. Honestly dudes, it’s hard to summarize this one since it’s just so jam packed with all kinds of everything. This askblog, maybe more than anything else I’ve read, really does encapsulate that whole ‘something for everyone’ feeling. Just trust me my dudes, ships galore, on-point writing, and gorgeous art. Go go.”

Also putting this before the page break: I know, it’s technically not a Cryde work, but I guarantee, there’s more content between those two in there than in most exclusively cryde-centric things. For a bit of trivia, it was this blog that got me into Cryde as a ship to begin with. So c’mon below, and I’ll try and reassure you…

Also also: Fair warning, this rec’ll be long af. I’m a little obsessed. So, get yourself a drink or something?

Storytelling

So like I said in the gist, the premise is fairly simple from the outset; Stan and Kyle start up an askblog, and your usual mix of hilarity, drama and ‘will-they, wont-they’ romance ensues. Now I had read askblogs before this one, and generally found them a lot of fun, but holy shit− from the get-go dudes, from the absolute start, this one had its hooks in me like nothing else has ever quite managed before or since. I’d originally just come across it after seeing some of the Craig/Clyde panels on some google search one weekend; then before I knew it, it was Monday morning and I’d read the whole blog front to back, and was experiencing like, genuine feelings for the first time in a long while.

A lot of what snagged me was the writing, which I walked in totally not expecting to take my soul hostage the way it did. The dialogue I’ll talk about with the characters, but as far as the actual story elements were presented? It reads like a god damn mini-series, with actual self-contained story arcs, side-scenarios that mesh in with the A-plot and oh my sweet jesus, the world building in this thing… Seriously dudes, I normally try and stay more grounded in tropes and clever literary devices and what have you, but with this blog I have a lot of trouble not getting like, emotionally invested.

I think that really is what makes this one so special; the atmosphere. There’s this underlying theme of determination and overcoming adversity (mirroring the writing of the blog itself, if you read the authors notes throughout− something I’d defiantly recommend) It’s the sort of writing that genuinely inspires people, deals with difficult subject matter and just generally gives off a positive vibe about soldering on and making good on big life changes, and that includes everyone, of every age and background.

And therein lies another giant strength, the variety. I would think it a very difficult task for someone to not find something they enjoy in this story; it’s a god damn carnival ride− not to spoil too much, but there’s a wash of different genres, different dynamics, different methods of storytelling and different perspectives on those stories. There’s music, there’s action, audience-participation, and enough backstory and little details that I’m still picking up new things even after having read through multiple times.

And lastly, oh boy− pitchforks and torches at the ready –there’s the content between Craig and Clyde. Now I’m not going to sugarcoat it, or really bother trying to hide the fact that these two don’t wind up in a happy relationship here. But please, and I really do mean this, don’t let that dissuade you. They have a very complicated relationship that keeps changing throughout, but their bond never goes away− so just because it isn’t all kisses and romance, I’d say it’s still one of the most endearing relationships I’ve seen written about the two (hence why I’m sticking to my guns on calling this a cryde-recommendation). Honestly, and I can say this from experience here, it gels with how boys like that can end up acting at that age. Despite everything, they still wind up being the biggest player in each other’s lives.

Characters

There is just characters bursting at the seams here, if you’re a fan of someone in the show, you can bet they’ll probably make an appearance somewhere along the line; or at least get a mention. Even Scott Malkinson gets namedropped, and that’s the first time I’ve seen him show up in something I’ve read in this fandom in like, forever.

Stan and Kyle are great picks for the leads, it feels easy experiencing the events unfold from their perspectives− honestly, it’s like watching a more grown up version of the TV-show for the most part, with Cartman and Kenny filling in with their usual contributions of being an asshole and a sweetheart respectively. (I really do love the way Cartman’s handled; he plays a tremendous bastard to be sure, but in a way you could imagine his childhood-self becoming- he makes a delightfully hammy and worryingly formidable antagonist) Also features pretty much my favorite version of Wendy I’ve come across; she’s the real MVP.

Craig’s low-key stealing scenes at first, before kicking things into high-gear and trying to take over the show throughout the run, to the point where he’s pretty much the focal point of all the drama several times. He’s a bit of a mess, but understandably so. Truthfully, all the characters have a unique take on them (all in keeping with how you’d imagine their canon counterparts at that age) and it’s a delight to learn what makes them all tick. I think with Craig especially, his views often radically differ from what you’re presented with by the other characters (including Stan and Kyle) and it’s never written in a way that forces you to side with any particular party as being ‘in the right’. Something I always find refreshing when it’s done as well as it’s done here. Everyone is presented with both strengths and faults, with actual long-running consequences for past actions, good and bad, and it’s up to you as the reader to make what you will out of it.

But then you’ve got the dialogue, and my god, it really takes the cake. There’s not much I can say apart from I legitimately thought some scenes and mannerisms must have been penned by Trey himself− the humor especially. Truly guys, you’re in for a treat. I would have loved to have asked the boys a question back in the day.

Style

Since I’ve gone long on the writing, I have to pretty much devote this section to the artwork because it’s fucking magic. Picture paints a thousand words and all that, and my god, does it ever do that here− the way things are scripted and tied in with the respective art? It makes for all sorts of amazing comedic timing, adds tenfold to any of the emotional scenes and just makes the story flow like a dream; I always have trouble putting it down once I get started.

Jovi’s just an incredibly talented artist, there is simply no escaping this fact. Each and every character has a unique design that fits their character and− I realize this one’s super subjective –to me, they all have such charm and personality in the way they’re drawn. It’s this masterfully presented cartoon-style with an emphasis on expressions, movement and color that I honestly just adore. Even at the very start of the blog, where the art is almost entirely different than it winds up looking at the finishing point two years later, I just love it− again with a South Park comparison, it reminds me of the watching the early cardboard-cutout style of the show compared to its newer 3D designs, both holding a special place in my heart in their own ways.

It floors me to think this was the author’s first major project. As mentioned above, I’d greatly recommend reading through the blog in its entirety, including all the commentaries by the mods, the funny tags, the side-art. One of the most inspiring things about this work is getting a sense of the love and dedication that was put into it over the years it was running; like watching the behind-the-scenes on some giant motion epic and coming to terms with how much effort went into producing what you’re seeing. It’s practically another story itself, and no less heartening than with the boys and their trials and tribulations. Seriously dude, so much kudos.

Favorite Things

The content variety. There’s just so much to love here, things being kept fresh and exciting throughout the super long run-time of the blog without feeling disjointed, on top of managing a satisfying conclusion. There’s a lot of fun to be had, no half-measures.

The character dynamics are a treat. With such a big cast, there’s all sorts of different personalities playing off each other, with dynamic relationships that all manage to evolve and grow. Definite love given to proper character arcs.

Inspiring themes and feel-good moments really do make this a gem to read when you’re looking for a pick me up. The messages about dealing with depression and addiction, managing your health and fitness and even studying and making smart choices− all of them really hit home.

Relationships of all different types; one’s that work out, one’s that don’t, some being easy, some being hard, long ones, short ones, mistakes and awkward surprises. Romance is well and truly covered, and I like that it doesn’t shy away with the stuff that just doesn’t end well.

Some of the best artwork you’ll come across (and so utterly fitting of the material), drawn to such a quality standard and on such a short time-frame that it kinda makes my head spin. I’m now at the point that when I think about the characters, these versions are the ones that appear in my head.

It’s honestly a little embarrassing for me to talk about AMAB, and god knows it’s pretty presumptuous, y’know? New guy recommends beloved artwork that already attracted thousands of followers back in its day. I’m going to guess this’ll end up being the rec that I’ll have needed to have written the least− since like, all of you have probably already devoured the blog long before you learned about it here.

But you know? If anything, I hope this ends up reconfirming what an excellent choice it was for you to have read it. And as always with these review things, if the author should read this, I hope you know just how much what you’ve made affected me and countless others; how good you deserve to feel, and how proud the people in your life must be of you for doing something so important and worthwhile.

As usual, next post’ll be spoilers and artwork− and I’m just going to bury my head in the sand so hard because my artwork is garbage compared, but we’ll have to muddle through. Join me there for second hand embarrassment, okay?

#south park #Cryde #style #askmarshandbroflovski #jovishark #blog recs #cryderecs #part1

[bxcketbarnes]

Met’s Game

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Author: @ninja-stiles

Words: 2237

Author’s Note: An anon has requested this and I thought it was super cute, because I’m a huge sap! Thanks to the lovely @rememberstilinski for proofreading this for me. Enjoy!

I laid against Dylan’s chest, playing with the small hairs that are embedded in his chest, his snores echoing off the blue walls of our bedroom. I look up at his sleeping face, wondering how I got so lucky to be able to call him mine, the stubble on his face beginning to grow again. Dylan and I have been going out for a little over three years and I couldn’t have asked for anyone better. He’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. I remember the first time he asked me out, he was so nervous and it was so cute and adorable, but I had no clue he had a hopeless crush on me. I guess I was too busy pining after him to notice he felt the same way.

I had walked onto set, drinking the hot chocolate I had in my hand, heading towards the breakfast table when I had run into Dylan. He managed to spill hot chocolate all over my shirt, peeling it off of me as quickly as possible as it was almost burning my skin. I stood in the hallway, in a bra as I patted the hot substance off of my chest, feeling his eyes on me the entire time.

“O-Oh my god, Y/N. I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there. I was on my phone, texting my sister about something. Jesus, are you okay?” He asked, putting his hand against my arm and I look up at him, giving him a small smile.

“I’m fine, Dylan, I manage to get the liquid off my skin before it did any real damage.” I looked up at him again after I threw the coffee cup away, noticing his eyes on not on my face… at all. I snapped my fingers in front of his face, snapping him out of his daze, a blush covering his cheeks. “My eyes are up here O’Brien.” I chuckled, covering my purple lace bra with my wet t-shirt, feeling a little insecure.

“U-Um, sorry. I-I uh, you just look really good in that bra and it’s my favorite color. I’m rambling. Ignore me.” He shut his mouth, rubbing the back of his neck, wondering why he’s so nervous around me, because he usually isn’t.

“Are you okay? Is there something wrong? You’re never this twitchy.” I put a hand on his arm, a burning feeling flowing through my body whenever I touch him. “You can tell me anything, you know.” I smiled, seeing a smile spread across his beautiful pink lips.

“A-Alright. Well I was texting my sister about this girl I like.” He paused, running a hand through his hair and my heart breaks. “And she told me to just man up and ask her out. Do you think I should ask her out?” He asked, playing with his fingers.

“Y-Yeah. You totally should.” I give him a fake smile, walking away from him before tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I wiped my eyes of the tears that had started to trail down my cheeks when I heard him call out my name.

“WAIT!” Dylan yelled and I turned around to face him, hiding the fact that I was crying. “You didn’t let me finish. Um, I have tickets to the Met’s game and I know that it’s not your favorite team, but I was wondering if maybe, you wanted to go with me, like, as a date.” He blushed and my heartbeat sped up, pinching myself.

“Ow.” I mutter, rubbing my skin. “Um, really? You’re asking me out?” He nodded his head and a smile spread across my lips. “I-I’d love too.” He smiled, pulling me into a hug, wrapping his strong arms around my waist as I nuzzled my face into his neck.

That was one of the best days of my life. Dylan groaned, shuffling onto his side, his face near my neck. I ran my fingers through his dark chestnut hair, his arms tightening around my waist, pulling me closer to him. He presses his lips to my skin, making a noise of delight. “Morning, baby.” Dylan mumbled, huskily. His deep morning voice always gets me goin’.

“Morning, my love.” I whispered, placing a kiss to his forehead as his hand rubs my back, lightly grazing his fingernails against my skin, tickling a little.

“How long have you been awake?” He asked, sitting up a little, sloppily kissing my cheek as he gets up, heading towards the bathroom. I smiled, resting my head on my arms, hearing the sink go off, assuming he’s brushing his teeth, so he can give me a kiss. He walked back out, crawling on the bed towards me, hovering over my body as I lay on my back. Dylan brushed his lips against mine, smelling the minty fresh of toothpaste on his breath.

“Only for about half an hour.” I mumbled, my eyes fluttering shut as he pressing small kisses to my lips. “I also recorded the game last night since you came home late. Don’t worry, I haven’t watched it yet.” I smiled and he looked down at me, love and passion filled in his eyes.

“You, baby, are absolutely amazing and I couldn’t ask for anyone better, seriously. I don’t think I could find a girl who loves sports like you do.” Dylan whispered against my lips, meshing our lips together in a passionate kiss. I place my hand against his cheek, moving my lips against his as his hand trailed down my side, resting on my hip.

“I love you, so much Dylan.” I muttered, my eyes still closed as he pressed his lips to every spot on my face. He pressed his lips on mine once more before getting off of me.

“I love you, too, so much.” He gave me a wink as he placed on a pair of boxers. I sit up, a sheet covering my body as I admire his body. Dylan threw one of this shirts towards me, giving him a smile, slipping it over my head. I get off the bed, running towards him as I jump up onto his back, wrapping my legs around his waist, giggling. He wrapped his arms around my thighs, giving me a piggy back ride downstairs, towards the kitchen.

He set me on the island, standing in between my legs as he gave me a kiss on my cheek, reaching around me to grab an envelope that was sitting there. “I have a surprise for you.” Dylan mumbled, handing me the envelope. I look at him, then down at the envelope as I open it, seeing what’s inside. Met’s @ Red Sox, Friday July 22nd, 7:00 pm. I gaped at the tickets in my hand, glancing up at him, a large grin on his lips.

“We’re going to the game?” I asked, feeling extremely excited as he nodded his head, wrapping my arms around his neck, squeezing the life out of him. “Oh my god, babe. This is absolutely amazing. What’s the occasion?” I asked.

“Just want a night out with my favorite girl. We haven’t been out in a while and I thought this would be perfect.” He mentioned and I smiled down at him, connecting our lips, my hands on both of his cheeks.

“You are seriously amazing.” I muttered, leaning my forehead against his. He took the ticket from my hands, giving me a chaste kiss.

“I’m gonna go put these on the dresser, alright?” He asked and I nodded my head, watching him walk away.

Dylan walked up the stairs and into the bedroom, setting the envelope on our dresser. He opened his underwear drawer, getting one of his socks out, pulling a ring box out of it. He opened the box, looking at the diamond engagement ring that filled the slot, smiling to myself as he couldn’t wait to propose to the love of his life. He walked back downstairs, seeing you in the kitchen, beginning to make breakfast, swinging your hips to a song that you’re humming.

I felt Dylan’s arms wrap around my waist, making me jump, his face nuzzling into my neck. “Jesus, babe. You scared me. What took you so long up there?” I asked and he shrugged his shoulders, pressing his lips to my bare shoulder.

“I was looking at some of the pictures of us on the dresser. I can’t help but think that you’re the love of my life.” He mumbled against my skin, the smile on my face growing and my cheeks becoming warm.

“You’re the love of my life too, babe.” I turned around to face him, laying my head on his chest as we sway in the silence, both of us not wanting to be anywhere but here.

The day of the game, I was running around the hotel room, attempting to find my Red Sox jersey as we only had an hour before we had to leave. “Babe?” I yelled out, searching through the laundry basket. “Have you seen my jersey?” I asked, not finding it in the basket, heading back upstairs, walking into the bedroom, seeing Dylan sitting on the bed, dressed in his Met’s jersey and black jeans, a Red Sox jersey laid across his lap, smirking at me. “Where’d you find that?” I pointed to his lap before crossing my arms.

“I found it in the suitcase.” He replied, a grin on his lips as his eyes glance down towards my cleavage. Putting two and two together, I let out a scoff, taking the jersey from him, slipping it on.

“You’re never getting sex again.” I chuckled and he groaned out, standing up.

“Oh, c’mon, babe. I’m just teasin’. Also, I just wanted to see you walk around in my favorite bra a little more.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to my head as he grabbed the keys, heading outside towards the car.

He drove the car towards the baseball field, our fingers intertwined the entire time, singing loudly together as we got weird looks from pedestrians and other drivers. Once we got to the parking lot of the baseball field. I jumped excitingly, waiting for Dylan to get out of the car, as he locked the doors, I took his hand in mine, dragging him to the entrance, giving the attendant our tickets. We got to our seats, intertwining our fingers against as my leg bounced in anticipation.

In the middle of the game, Dylan looked over at his girlfriend, a huge smile on her lips as she rooted for her team, who was currently winning. Dylan hated having his team to lose, but he never really minded them losing to her team, because he gets to see her all excited. It was his favorite thing. He reached into his pocket, playing with the ring box as she was distracted by Dustin Pedroia, who was currently up to bat.

“Y/N.” Dylan started, getting down on one knee, pulling the box out into view as she looked down at him, her eyes widening as she was looking around, noticing his actions getting everyone’s attention. “When I had first met you on the Teen Wolf set, I thought you were absolutely beautiful. One of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen and I knew that I would end up falling for you, which I did. Faster than I had ever thought. That day I spilt hot chocolate was one of the best days of my life, not only did I get to see one of my favorite bra’s, I got to ask you out and you gladly accepted. Each date we’ve been on, I’ve fallen more in love with you and I learn new things about you everyday. Even though you’re a Red Sox fan, I still love you with all my heart and you’re absolutely the love of my life and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Would you do the honor and marry me? Be my Mrs. O’Brien. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Dylan confessed, tears streaming down both of their cheeks as people awe’d around them. He opened the ring box and she gasped at how beautiful the engagement ring was.

“Absolutely, Dyl. Oh my god, yes.” She cried, her hand covering her mouth as he took the ring out of the box, taking her hand into his as he slides the ring onto her finger. He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up as she wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting her up as the couple was shown on the big screen, everyone around them clapping for the newly engaged couple.

He pressed his lips against hers, giving her gingerly kisses. She moved her lips against his, running a hand through his hair as he placed her feet back on the ground, both of them pulling away, smiles present on both of their faces.

“I’m so in love with you, Y/N O’Brien.” Dylan mumbled, his lips connecting to her forehead as she smiled to the thought of marrying her best friend, but also the guy she’s been madly in love with since almost the day they met. “It may not be your last name yet, but I’ve thought about that for a while now.”

“I’m so madly in love with you, Dylan O’Brien, and I can’t wait to grow old with you.”

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