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#I might be self projecting
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Legend is autistic because why else would he hate wearing pants so much
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sad-leon · 1 month
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what if i gave rise leo BPD...
his anger manifests in the form of self-sabotage and self harm. he asks donnie to sound proof his room when they get to the new lair so he can wreck it without concerning everyone else. before that he'd sneak to the surface and wreck an already messy alleyway
his self harm is recklessness. he gets hurt in fights as much as he can and still get away with just a "please be more careful" lecture from raph
speaking of raph, his oldest brother is his favorite person. so when raph starts to brush him to the side and distrust him, he doesnt take it well. when he does something to impress raph and all he gets is "finally..." thats when he disappears for hours and comes back home with sore arms and usually some scrapes and many bruises
he becomes a medic because they can't ignore him if he helps them. plus he can get better at hiding his breakdowns if he can take care of his own injuries
he wants to be in the spotlight so bad until the spotlight shines on him and suddenly his skin fits wrong
splinter and raph brush it off as teenage hormones. donnie shuts it out. mikey is the first person to realize leo's moods aren't normal, but he doesnt want to confront the fact the bpd comes from trauma, so he tries to support leo as best he can
april doesnt realize how much leo's mood shifts until she spends a night in the lair and realizes that leo isn't as hyper as he presents himself. he tries to mask, but he's too tired and the sudden silence from leo throws april off. it creates a rift between them. even when leo is happier around april, she knows somethings wrong- knows its not quite as genuine as she thought.
she spends more time around donnie than leo and leo thinks its for the best. eventually all his brothers- all his family prefer spending time with someone thats not him. he tells himself its for the better- the less time they spend around him, the less likely he'll be upset around them and end up making them upset
leo convinces himself he's meant to be alone and puts his all into being the team medic and spends the rest of his time alone and dissociating. he hates being the leader- having everyones eyes on him all the time. watching him. waiting for him to mess up- to act out- to prove they were right not to trust him
.... idk.. just a thought
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kairukitsuneo · 10 months
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Overworked Ratchet
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bamsara · 2 years
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i know "When did you stop loving me?" is an angsty one, BUT what if it was actually an overly dramatic lament bc someone didn't get their way?
(I love that twist! Note: This written prompt is fluff/domestic shenanigans with Y/N having a habit of poor self-care, but the DA helps that.)
(This is a bit long so maybe not a drabble but a one-shot, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!)
You're a college student with a hetic, inconsistant schedule job and more stressers in your life that would make a therapist whistle, so you're not exactly the best at self-care, or even regular human maintence. Your eating schedule was flakey at best and the contents of your fridge wasn't anything healthy if just something to pop into the microwave very quickly to save time. Sometimes your apartment would get dirty quickly and with no mental energy or time to clean it up, you just lived a little gross for a while. Don't even get started on your sleep schedule.
The Daycare Attendant, you realize, became quite aware of your situation more-so than they already had after their 'permanent moving' into your home, and thus you've been subjected to more life changes in the last week than you'd ever be prepared for.
Sun uses your phone to order healthier groceries and and tsks at the instant-microwave meals in your cabinet. He's gotten into cooking, which is both incredably odd considering he's a robot, but amusing when you walk into the living room and he's watching an a show of middle aged women teaching the viewers how to make veggie pasta.
Maybe he misses arts and crafts back when he was at the pizzaplex, and just liked to work with his hands. Something hints at you this is a correct assumption because the fruit he cuts for you are star and heart shaped and he likes to take pictures with your phone afterwards. You don't get it, but it makes him happy and keeps his mind occupied elsewhere, so you don't mind.
Moon cleans up after your mess and threatens you (in a friendly manner, of course. You think.) to go to bed at a proper time or he becomes rather aggitated.
Any attempts at using your phone underneath the covers will result in a small EMP attack that takes out your phone and the neighbor's Television. You know, because Gramps mentioned that her TV only seems to cut out around the same time every night and nothing he does seems to fix it until morning. Moon holds no remorse, obviously.
It's nice. Even if they're a little bit pushy about about it. Honesty, you think these acts are just remants of their care giving programming, the need to feel useful after everything that happened or just trying to busy themselves with the human they're invested in. Maybe a mix of all of those things, but that's to be unpacked later.
The exchange wasn't unequel either. You've learned more about robotics in the last 6 months than you'd ever expect to know, for sure, along with some other things. You're an adult, you can keep yourself alive just fine, but it's nice to have the extra support.
It does, however, get a touch on your nerves at times.
"Moon, c'mon, I'm like, so close to the end-" You make a lunge for the remote, and it's closer to you than it was before. The animatronic holding it over your head doesn't even blink as you make a grab for it again and your fingers only brush air. "Dude! The season finale came out today. It's literally the last couple of episodes!"
"Sit." Moon states plainly. "Kitchen table."
"I'll eat later. It's not like the fridge is going anywhere, Moon. C'mon. Everyone has seen it but me and I'm already getting spoilers on my feed. Just another episode? You two said you've watch it with me anyway."
Moon blinks dully at you, and stuffs the remote underneath his hat. "No."
"C'monnnnnn"
Fingers find your collar and hook underneath the fabric, and routinly, you are dragged away from your unhealthy habit of binging new series of media to attend to your oh-so-delicate human needs that are far too demanding for your liking. The Daycare Attendant has long become acustomed to your whining.
The dinner table chair because your metaphorical prison as Moon lightly pushes towards it, sitting with a slump and a over-the-top dramatic sigh as the animatronic walks through your kitchen. The lights are dimmed, but he still squints at the refridgerator lights that greets him when he opens the door. "What do you want."
You resist the urge to snatch his hat and run. "A robot that doesn't nanny me."
Red eyes and white pupils side eye you, and Moon pulls out a a few items. He speaks deadpan. "Cry about it."
"Maybe I will." You snark back. He makes a noise somewhat akin to a snort, and you pretend your pinching his head inbetween your fingers from across the room. You raise from your seat, resigining yourself to your fate and getting yourself a drink. It's a sugary soda (caffine free!) that Moon glances at but leaves be. Sun would have polietly recommended water by now.
It's almost a funny image: a tall, clown robot standing in front of your microwave in a t-shirt and slippers, just staring at the glass with mild dissassioance until the counter goes down. You duck, popping your head underneath his elbow and his arm raises to allow you. "So." You sip at your drink, and Moon makes a face above you. "What's on the menu, Starboy?"
"Leftovers." A pause. "That we made this morning."
Right. Sun must have made a meal set during the day for the opposite half to make for you at night. Clever bastard. "...Can I have the remote now?"
Moon, without looking at you, adjusts his hat to sit better on his head.
"Bitch."
"Sit." He shoos you to the table. "And sleep after this. It's late."
Very late, actaully. Around the wee hours of 1AM and half-past god knows what. You'd been so caught up in your favorite show that you just sorta forgot to do everything else for the day, so eating, showering, studying were all at the bottom of the list. Regaurdless, your TV called to you.
You heave a dramatic sigh, falling back onto the kitchen chair and resting your elbow on the table, cheek resting in your palm. "I can't believe you'd treat me like this after all we've been through. Denying me the simple pleasures in life, for shame."
The microwave counts down to single digits and Moon's fingers hover over the handle. You can't see his face from this angle, but a faint chuckle is in his tone. "Tragic."
"Ugh, how could you?" You sigh again, more dramatically this time, and even go as far as to place the back of your free hand against your forehead and calling back to all the cheesy soap operas you and Sun watch in your free time. "I feel soooo betrayed. When did you stop loving me?"
The microwave starts beeping and Moon's fingers lock onto the handle, and freeze.
A couple of beeps ring by. You hand lowers and you raise a brow at the animatronic's still form. You give him a moment, because sometimes the Daycare Attendant stalls sometimes, and you chalk it up to being a robot thing. But the beeping was starting to get annoying. "Hey, man. The food's done."
Another two seconds. His fingers move and pop the microwave door open. You can smell heated up veggies and broth from across the room. "Funny."
"Yep. I can be a jester too."
"One episode." Moon grabs your dinner with one hand, and pulls the remote out from under his hat with the other. "To eat your food with. Then sleep. You're lacking."
The smile on your face comes naturally, and you swipe the remote from his hands. "Yeah, sure. Like I'd let you boss me around anyways. Come lay with me on the couch and watch it with me. There's aliens in this episode."
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blinkpen · 3 months
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brainstorming mechanics for a bloody mary of my very own
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reinabeestudio · 5 months
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I keep reading their name as 'Saffron' so, the funnie colors 💥
At first I thought it was a pun on 'Sin fin' (endless in Spanish). Fitting since, well. Y'know. The Loops(tm) (<- said like The Horrors)
(*In Stars And Time by @insertdisc5)
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ghoodles · 10 months
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A bunch of noir headcanons because im normal i promise
- Either really sensory avoidant or seeking, it depends on the day
- Either way he's still pretty affectionate, on the avoidant days its usually just words of affirmation but otherwise he's the type of person to like pat someone on the back or something (there's actual movie scenes in itsv that supports this)
- The strongest sense of justice you'll see. He sees an injustice and soon enough he's interfering
- He will find a way to get information out of you if you have it, he used to work for the press, and is a private eye, and he was damn good at BOTH
- The color of his webs depends on how long its been since his last revival. Darker usually means its been less time, and it usually lasts for like a month or two before it becomes white again
- Intrusive thoughts about violence that he's just slowly become desensitized to
- Used to be all bark no bite before he got his powers, would get his ass kicked a LOT, but now, i mean, he still gets his ass kicked sometimes, but he's more capable of holding his own
- He has fangs and claws, because, come on, he's literally been revived like multiple times by the spider-god, she's had to replace something
- Speaking on that, a lot of his blood is significantly darker than his natural color, because of the god having to replace it
- Actually figured out how to use futuristic technology pretty quickly
- In shattered dimensions, he definitely thought Madame Web's voice was the spider-god talking to him before he was like "hold on she doesnt sound like that, who the fuck are you?"
- Swears like a sailor, but doesnt like younger people doing it
- Probably screamed in agony at seeing all the colors for the first time, especially in brooklyn during the night, thats gotta cause so much eye strain, especially in a black and white world
- Actually could see color in his world, but they were pretty dull colors, almost monochrome, but not
- Most people cant see the difference though
- Has met Miguel before (shattered dimensions) and was absolutely just in shock by the change
- A god at cooking, shit at baking, he tried to make cookies and almost burnt down the house
- Sometimes just feels like a puppet for the spider-gods entertainment
- Religious trauma is strong with this man, i can tell
- Derealization episodes where it feels like he's just not there anymore
- Back to his blood being darker the more he loses it, he has a full on breakdown over it once he realizes it, because he percieves it as a sort of indicator that he isnt human anymore
- The most unintentionally father figure acting person you'll ever see, he doesnt realize how many people see him as a dad, and if he does he's just extremely confused
- Had his gun with him the entire time in ITSV, just didnt want to accidentally scare someone with it
- Has a pretty good relationship with the other spiders in Shattered dimensions, but ends up getting a little iffy about Miguel once he brings up the canon events
- He almost fought him after Miguel brought up his uncle Benjamin and all his other canon events (ive only read like two issues of the comics im SORRY)
- The most vibrant color he saw in his world was the color of his spider-sense; a red
- For this reason, he can point out red really quickly
- Increased senses, to the point where it can become a hindrance
- Constantly on alert, checks so many things to make sure that he's not being followed
- Despite being naturally weaker than all the spiders, he can punch clean through walls
- He'd be bruised and a bit scraped by it but otherwise he's perfectly fine
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alexthesillybilly · 5 months
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I think I should be allowed to give springtrap affection he's never been shown it would fix me. If I could just. Make him go 🥺🥺you like me 🥲🥲you want me here 🤭🤭 Id be satisfied
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enihk-writes · 8 months
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[日久见人心]
characters: present!chung myung + afab!she/her!reader
baek cheon x afab!she/her!reader (implied and one-sided from the reader's end because they are not the main plot point for this fic lol)
summary: old habits die hard, even when you are born in a new body. to his credit, he does try not to seem like he is the reincarnation of the plum blossom sword saint, but his subconscious actions said otherwise. he didn't think you of all people would notice.
word count: 3.85k
author's note: the phrase 日久见人心 (rì jiǔ jiàn rén xīn) is part of the full saying 路遥知马力,日久见人心 (lù yáo zhī mǎ lì, rì jiǔ jiàn rén xīn) and i vaguely remember it was something my mother tongue teacher back in secondary said we could use in our composition essays or whatever,,,, and recently i saw it on those cringey rise-and-grind motivational crypto bro ig pages my ex-classmates are reposting on their stories which kinda gave me an idea lmao.... anyways the meaning of the quote is that we need to take time to understand a person's character (also the fic is the result of my caffeine overconsumption lol and not related to my previous cmxreader because i needed a break from all that angst romance i've been writing wwwwwwww)
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chung myung has been starting to think that you were cut out from the same cloth as yu iseol.
quiet, aloof and always watching.
if someone said that you both were twins, he wouldn't be surprised. but then again, there were differences. the most obvious one was that iseol had more talent with the blade than you did, and the other was that iseol had no talent in actually taking care of herself. you were barely managing, but compared to your senior sister? it was far more decent. the two of you had tang soso to thank for not dying as fast as you could have.
chung myung. bowl.
he looks up to see your hand outstretched, waiting to pick up the empty bowl he'd cleaned off long ago. chung myung grunts and hands it over, propping his arm up and resting his head on it as he watched you go around the dining hall to collect the dinnerware.
you lived in mount hua, sure, but you weren't the fighting sort. maybe because anything you did could get you sick — if the weather dropped or rose a little too quickly, your body would tremble and shiver. did you move a little too much today? did you happen to sleep later than you were supposed to that night? by the next morning you were down with a terrible fever that kept you in your room for the rest of the day. but now that tang soso was here, she would drag you down to the medicine hall, grumbling under her breath, all while you looked at her teary-eyed and apologetic.
maybe it was out of shame or embarrassment that made you try to be yourself useful in other ways, though you would often fail and cause more trouble. everyone would just sigh and pick up after your mess, ushering you out to do something else.
during those days, he'd find you hunched behind the baths, sobbing in frustration. chung myung didn't know what to do or say, he'd always talked more with his fist before his heart, so he'd end up hiding in the trees to watch over you instead. and once you've cried it all out, you would stand, wash your face and go to bed. trying something else tomorrow.
chung myung gives credit where credit was due. for a sickly kid, you sure had a thicker skin than the others.
eventually, you stuck with being the cleaner. your weird, meticulous habits somehow working well in this job. the cups and plates were wiped till it shone, silverware were polished until you could see your own face and that hard-to-scrub dirt on the grout would be pristine and white when left in your hands. chung myung wonders secretly if maybe you'd picked this talent up from that neat freak baek cheon.
what are you thinking about?
he almost hits you out of instinct. you really were cut from the same cloth as yu iseol.
he lets out a shaky breath as he turns to face you, who had been sitting behind him. you look at him owlishly and he would have thought you weren't breathing if not for the movement of your nostrils. crossing his leg over the other, he juts his chin at you in acknowledgement.
what is it?
you're quieter, and thinking a lot more than normal today.
ah... this kid... how does everything that comes out of that mouth sound like an insult? chung myung tries to reign in his short temper, he didn't want to hit a frail person for no reason, and he knows that you just happen to always talk like that.
hm. i was thinking about you.
woah. pervert.
ah... maybe he should hit your head just once. just once and he'll never hit you again.
i'm kidding.
really? were you now?
i'm really kidding, don't go and look like you're going hit me like you do with our senior brothers.
okay, you were off the hook. for now.
hmph. you shouldn't tease your elders.
what elder.
chung myung forgets that you were the same age as him. well, in this body, not spiritually. but if he were to talk about life experience and reincarnation, he was the older one but fuck! you didn't know that! he didn't tell anyone he was the plum blossom sword saint ugh!
chung myung, are you going to have an aneurysm?
shut up!
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winter in mount hua was really cold. and chung myung, surprisingly, didn't do so well with the cold. though, he would rather die than let anyone ever find out about that.
he wakes up early to train as usual, but the cold this morning was so biting, he was tempted to just stay in bed, it wasn't easy being an old man. ah, but the other disciples would be celebrating if he didn't appear for morning practice and that was no good. after all, the future of the sect still depended on him, didn't it?
he got dressed and stepped out of his room —
chung myung.
fuck! couldn't you talk to people like a normal person? why do you love to sneak up on people like this? cheong mun sa-hyung please, please, please give him patience and strength.
you look cold.
he was! great observation! chung myung wants to yell that to you with gritted teeth. he was still, unfortunately, very unnerved by how he couldn't feel your presence.
follow me. i have something for you.
you didn't wait for him to reply, instead grabbing his hand as you dragged him to the kitchen. he didn't try to resist, letting you pull him wherever, like a parent going to see what their child just found.
the two of you walk across the training grounds that had been buried under a blanket of pristine snow, the dim light of your paper lantern showing you the way. treading past and leaving two sets of footprints behind.
you push him into the kitchen, hanging the lantern up on a hook in the wall. chung myung notices the fire in the stone stove, you had already started it before going out to find him, probably because you were boiling something in that pot standing over the fire. chung myung sits on the ground, huddling before the blaze, it felt warm and comforting in the kitchen. the sound of water boiling in the pot and the crackling of the charred wood its heat blowing across his frigid face was, unsurprisingly, giving him a boost of energy.
you carefully move the pot to the side, removing the lid to check the contents in it. looking pleased with the result, you take out a bowl still steaming into your hands and placed it on the ground between you and chung myung as quickly as you could.
he looks over curiously. it looked like some kind of pudding, he doesn't think he's seen it before —
it's milk pudding, with lotus seeds and almonds
oh? he pondered, eyeing the bowl as you handed him a spoon.
aren't these ingredients used to make mooncakes?
chung myung asks, folding his arms. he notices that you were avoiding his gaze. don't tell him you...?
did you steal these from the warehouse?
hey! steal is a strong word!
oh i'm sorry, your highness, did you perhaps take the ingredients from the fucking warehouse?
he scoffed mockingly, exaggerating his manner of speech in mild irritation. he laughed at your grimace and pouty expression. ah, he feels like he's making fun of a toddler, he should be ashamed for bullying a kid at his age.
hm, he hasn't done something this juvenile in a long time. it was oddly nostalgic, in a way. he mused, digging into the soft and smooth surface of the pudding with the spoon, trying to scoop up the lotus seeds and almonds in it too.
mmh. 's not bad.
wow, i didn't know you knew how to compliment people
should i take that back then?
i'm sorry.
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you had been working hard in cleaning the floors for spring cleaning. but the boys were so heavy-footed and honestly far too uninterested in their surroundings that the well-polished wooden floorboards you were really proud of was always dusty.
should you just barricade the entrance of the dorms until nightfall? just so they wouldn't walk all over your hard work?
you sit on the steps, your hair tied into a scarf, head resting on the propped broom you held between your legs. thinking long and hard over your predicament while looking over at the training grounds where chung myung was drilling down on everyone else.
the sun hung high in the cloudless afternoon sky, its rays casting down on the compound harshly. you were beginning to feel dizzy and closed your eyes, hoping to relieve the pain growing in your head.
you didn't hear anything outside the constant ringing in your ears, so one can only imagine your surprise when the reddish tint you saw while your eyes were closed grew dark.
who?
you cracked open your eyes to try and make out the person standing before you, wincing when the bright light nearly blinded you.
a familiar chuckle graced your ears as the ringing grew quiet. ah, it was senior baek cheon.
he taps the bamboo flask against your forehead, the water in it swishing against the walls. you take it, grateful, chugging down the contents, choking on it a little when a few drops went down the wrong pipe.
hey, hey... slow down... no one's going to take it away from you...
you cough, turning away in embarrassment. baek cheon sits down next to you on the steps, watching your antics in quiet amusement. you didn't want to look at him, not when he was practically topless, with his hair tied up high and swept over his shoulder.
chung myung looks at the scene from afar, not really clocking anything in his mind until he sees the way you were trying to scoot a little further away like a snail touching salt and your hands covering up your cheeks.
oh.
oh?
so you and baek cheon huh?
chung myung feels the cogs in his brain turn. at times like these he wishes he had someone to talk about this with, maybe tang bo. he would have loved to hear about petty gossip like this, and they could have teased the kids like the old men they were.
so you think something is going on between her and baek cheon sasuk too, huh?
jo-gul's voice comes up from behind, and chung myung didn't need to look over to see the guy's eyes trained on his targets.
if you have so much free time to discuss other people's love lives, i think we can continue with our training right, sahyungs?
chung myung called out loudly for everyone to hear.
jo-gul you fucking bastard!
you and your big mouth...
ugh... i can't get up...
the poor guy could only hang his head in quiet embarrassment. baek cheon laughed at the antics of the others, getting up to walk back to the training grounds. but not before he reached out to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.
if you're going to rest, do it in the shade. i don't think you want to fall ill again tomorrow, do you?
he asks, and you shake your head in response.
mmh. i'll see you around?
see you...
you wave meekly as he left, your insides going through an entire acrobatics routine. wondering what that short exchange was all about. it couldn't be that he liked you back? or did he catch onto your growing crush? you wanted to throw yourself off the cliff.
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i didn't take you for a guy that had habits like this.
chung myung gulped down the last of the warm water in his cup, setting it down on the counter, and looked at you quizzically. your elbows were propped up over the edge of the counter and you were perched on the stool in a rather un-ladylike manner.
it's good for your health you know.
psh... isn't that an old wives tale?
he scoffs and shakes his head.
haah...
he sighs.
the young people these days.
you look at him, head tilted in confusion. humming for a bit, you let your thoughts simmer before you decided to pose the question.
hey, why'd you speak like that?
chung myung pauses.
like what?
you know... like an old man?
he sucks in a quick breath. there was no way you of all people would have figured it out, right?
he felt like he was spiralling into a bit of a panic.
hey.
you snap your fingers in his face, moving to stand beside him while he was deep in thought.
earth to chung myung?
he looks at you.
he takes a good look at you.
you were not the brightest bulb in the bush, or however that saying goes, at least when compared to him. there was no way you connected the dots and figured out he was the plum blossom sword saint. yeah, this was for sure a case of the right formula and the wrong answer.
he had to divert your thoughts before you start to think deeper.
i think i hear baek cheon sasuk coming over.
huh?
it was your turn to panic a little, and he darts out of the kitchen to escape what would have been your incoming torrent of scrutiny. you realise just then that you had been completely bamboozled by the bastard chung myung.
running to the door, you yell out a string of curses at the run-away instigator. ah, your blood pressure...
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you think chung myung might have been raised by old people. because there was no other plausible reason that he acts the way he does.
sometimes he walks with his hands behind his back, and while most people your age would stand straight and position their arms in a stiff way, chung myung puts his hands on his lower back — like he was supporting it. you know who else does this? the sect leader and the other elders. and it doesn't help his case that he was always slouching a little.
another thing you notice was how his taste in food was a few notches blander than the rest of you. he wasn't fond of anything too salty or sour or anything undercooked. he'd always pick out the softest parts of any cooked meat, saying it was the juiciest, which was somewhat believable. but then wasn't it also nearest to where the animals organs used to be before it was gutted? wouldn't it taste bitter?
speaking of bitter, chung myung liked to eat food that made you squeamish. he'd nag at the nutritional value of them and when nobody wanted to try it out, he'd mumble something about kids these days not knowing what's good for them and scarf it down by himself.
that was another thing about him, why was he always calling you a kid when you were the same age as him? it wasn't that big of a deal for you. but calling the other seniors kids? you wondered if it was his way of showing his martial superiority in a twisted way, or if it was another underlying reason.
surely, it must be because he was raised by the elderly.
god, you were so smart, weren't you? connecting the dots like that?
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chung myung was sure you were dropped on the head as an infant.
you had cornered him in the toilets. broke down and the door and everything, just to ask him who he was raised by. it was ridiculous, the scene that was folding out right then and he chooses to ignore that your weak body had somehow broken down a fucking wooden door. he has to ignore that, for his own sanity.
you were on the walls, hands clawing and feet digging on the rough surface. chung myung shirks away, exasperated. somewhere in the afterlife, he thinks he could hear the loud cackle of his friends at his predicament.
chung myung.
he tries to evade eye contact.
chung myung.
oh man, look at that spider on the ceiling spinning a web.
hey where are you looking? i'm over here.
he finally looks at you turning his head slowly.
uh... i think... you might be a bit too close...
a bit too close was a forgiving statement. your head had craned forward far enough that your face was almost less than a centimetre away from his.
you lean back at his reply. still not keeping your eyes off him. after all, he still hadn't answered your question.
you know that i'm an orphan... right?
yeah. so am i.
i wasn't raised by anybody...
oh.
you step back, pondering for a moment. chung myung feels the breath he was holding leave his lungs. you caused him so much anxiety. remember when he thought you were cut from the same cloth as yu iseol? he stands corrected, but you were insane in the opposite direction.
okay. so who raised you?
chung myung feels his eye twitch. why were you asking the same thing? he already told you!
i'm telling you—!
nuh-uh. that's not what i want to know. i want to know if you grew up with old people.
then you should have asked that from the beginning!
i panicked, okay?
he sighs, deeply, and covers his face in his hands. he feels his miraculous second life leaving his body at this exchange.
to answer your question. no, i didn't.
huh. i see.
you answer simply.
chung myung peeks at you through his fingers, surprised at your unusual silence. you, on the other hand, had grown more confused by his answer. if he hadn't been raised by the elderly, then how would anybody act the way he did? not to mention, he had knowledge of niche historical facts that nobody other than a person living in that time would have known of.
can i go now?
huh? oh yeah... sure...? oh! wait—!
you had answered too absentmindedly! you weren't done questioning him! shit! the slippery bastard had gotten away!
you jog out the door, only to bump into someone when turning a corner. a pair of arms catch you from falling. looking up you were met with baek cheon's worried gaze, which morphed into confusion when he realized at the same time as you did that you had ran out of the boys' toilets.
uh... wait... i can explain...
you wondered if a lighting bolt could strike down in broad daylight.
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you were sulking in the kitchen.
the guy you had a somewhat infatuation with caught you in an embarrassing moment. you had convinced yourself all chances you had with him were ruined. this was all chung myung's fault. every time you had the slightest inconvenience you would secretly curse him out a little in your heart. you used to feel bad when you still had a working conscience, but not anymore though.
speak of the devil, and he comes walking in.
chung myung came in to ransack the cellar behind the kitchen for wine. he had been craving it for the past few days after his own stash ran out. he had waited for everyone else to be asleep before sneaking in as quietly as he could.
so one can only imagine the shock he felt, even though he swears he had already seen it all, when he finds your shadowy figure sitting crossed-legged on the counter and your two eyes staring right back at him in the darkness.
keugh—!
chung myung bites back a scream. fuck! can he please have one, one. peaceful day where you didn't fuck around with his psyche?
you didn't know he was coming in so soon. but you didn't care much since you had something to give him anyway.
shoving the lacquer box engraved with floral designs into his chest, you motion for him to take a look inside. chung mying complied, hesitantly lifting off the lid to find rows of thin mooncakes, without the egg yolks probably, and another layer under that was filled with a flaky-looking biscuit.
it's called tau sar piah.
he hums, taking the round ball out to inspect it. shrugging, he popped it into his mouth and chews down on the pastry. the flavour, it was familiar. he thinks, was it—?
dried mung bean paste?
you nodded, grinning.
what's this for though?
don't tell me you forgot.
forget? what did he forget?
it's your birthday you goon. well, in a few hours but still.
oh. he had forgotten, momentarily. you really were a good kid, remembering this old man's birthday and making something for him. shit, chung myung thinks he might tear up. was this what it was like to have grandchildren? he thinks he understands why cheong mun sa-hyung might have suggested he take on disciples of his own, or well, trusted him enough to babysit the children of the sect back then. ugh, he was a grandfather after all, and you were somehow his most troublesome child.
he sniffles. closing the lid on the box and grabbing the wine. well, it would be lonely to eat all of this on his own, and waking up the others would be too much of a hassle. suppose you would make do as his drinking buddy tonight. hooking an arm under your knees, he slings you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. the other grabbing the food and drink.
he jumps on the roofs until he brings you to a spot where the moon felt the closest. he drops you on your feet as you balance yourself on the uneven shingles. chung myung plopped down, leg crossed over the other, as he began to down the wine straight from the bottle.
he hands you the lid of the box, picking out the mooncake and biting into it.
wow. tastes kinda ass.
ugh, ungrateful much?
i never said i wouldn't eat it.
can't you just say your appreciation like a normal person?
a pause.
...thank you.
chung myung replied in a softer voice.
hmph. see? that wasn't so hard?
you huffed, teasing him.
chung myung only scoffed and rolled his eyes.
the night drudged on, and you spent the time talking about everything and nothing. things that happened that week, gossip you've heard, events that had happened in the past, antics of the other sect members...
chung myung feels his eyelids grow heavy. was it alright to rest his grieving heart for a while on his birthday? cheong mun sa-hyung and the others' surely wouldn't mind.
and as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, your voice quips up.
hey, do you think i should confess to sasuk?
psh—!
chung myung spits out the wine in his mouth, choking on the liquid that went up and out his nose. it felt as though he was vomiting out blood from that question alone.
you were really his most troublesome kid.
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It took time for Ghost to get used to Soap… everything.
But mainly his loudness
Ghost is a silent man. Quiet verbally and physically only ever doing the necessary amount of noise. It helps him pass unnoticed and with ease (less anxiety).
It started mostly as a survival technique when little, but as he grew older it just made… sense to him. Don’t make noise and you won’t bother other people. Don’t bother other people and they won’t look at you. They don’t look at you, they don’t bother you. Simple.
Johnny's presence however makes that little ‘routine’ of his shatter into small…tiny… fragmented… pieces.
Many times Ghost has suppressed a flinch or a grimace at Soap’s volume. Parts because of his own over sensitivity to noise… Other’s because… the moment Soap speaks all heads in the room seem to turn to him involuntarily. Either startled by the sound or just… curious about the noise.
Simon will never admit it but all those eyes being in his direction freaks him out… Makes him think of all the eyes that looked down on him as he was buried under dirt. Analysing… constricting…cruel… so cruel.
Ghost hates it. Hates it so much but…
But the smile on Soap’s face as he speaks.
The way his laugh reverberates on the walls and rattles inside Simon’s chest.
The way he’ll try to suppress his giggles and whispers, telling him a secret, but still ends up being too loud.
The way Ghost always knows where he is by this weird form of echolocation of his.
He hates it. He hates it. He hates it–
But he says nothing. He zips his mouth shut and endures. He learns to process the noise and ends up learning how to turn it into something more pleasant. Can’t go a day without hearing that beautiful scott speak. Can’t go a day without missing him. Can’t help just wanting to hear more, listen to more. He saw the expression on Soap’s face after someone told him to shut up. He knows Soap can’t control it and it’s part of who he is. Ghost has learned to endure bigger, worse, more concerning pains and discomforts. For Johnny? He can suck it up and keep on going.
Because losing Johnny will always be a bigger anguish than some little noise.
So he keeps quiet and endures because, god forbid, he ever tries to purposefully hurt that man.
Simon loves him too much for Ghost to even try…
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Whaaat? I'm actually posting traditional art for once? 🤨 plus a small headcanon! :D idk why but recently I liked the headcanon idea of Mr. Turlough being AroAce :) for me personally it just fits his character a bit more, plus I really don't see to many AroAce characters tbh! At least none I'm aware of :) I hope you guys enjoy the traditional art, something a bit different for me to try! But it was sm fun!
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meatlessmcmuffin · 9 months
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springypaws · 1 month
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Tfw you’re sitting on a wall and being all cool while you wait for the inevitable horrors to befall you
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Ngl I think I wanted to do more with this but I had no idea what to add that I would like the look of so this’ll have to do 💕
ID in ALT!!
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update, y'all: suddenly i have SIX (6) micro writing projects for the weekend, and i'm hyped!!
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I was rewatching The Stone Forest and I really like to think that Hilda had to pass by the Bell Keeper’s outpost on her way out of the city limits. I like to think that idiot looked at what was happening, shrugged, and said ‘eh, she’s the scariest thing out there’
#“‘the scariest thing out there’?”the girl sends him a look that isn't quite a glare for once; it still conveys her opinion just as clearly#Edmund shrugs. Hilda is still within sight of his binoculars. he watches her run and can’t be sure whether she’s running *towards* or *from#*.He doesn’t think she knows either.#'I mean. it’s not like trolls can harm her at this time of the day.#Don’t tell me you believe in fairies kid.'#And there it is at last: the glare. Meiri looks up from her art project - her new therapist had reccomended it as a way to express herself#and since he'd been helping so much so far she'd decided to grudgingly give it a shot -#“*No*” she states pointedly; to anyone who knew her it was an affirmation. And Edmund knew her better than she cared for#'What I believe in is wolves and recluse spiders and ticks and nettle. And I believe that someone with the spine#to sabotage the Patrol wouldn't have the self control to not lick a pretty mushroom'#“Hey!” Edmund protested putting down his binoculars. “I sabotaged the Patrol! For *you* I might add!”#Meiri's smile turned mean; it was a regular expression for her yet it never conveyed any malice. Just the thrill of a game that never tired#her. “And would you?” she lifted one thick eyebrow; signaling to her dad that it was his move now#The dad in question was unfortunately thinking back to a time in his young teenage years when he figured he could eat anything animals bit#and gave himself a poisoning that had him taken to the ER. But she didn't need to know that. *ever* in fact.#“Obviously I would. Like I'd let a mushroom ruin my perfect sandwich diet”#Meiri groaned loudly. Some games were worth playing. But some wars she'd already accepted she'd never win#“Anyway” he turned back to staring at the outside of the wall as if it was of any interest to him (it wasn't)#“kid'll be fine is my point. And even if she isn't ya know what's the best think about this situation?”#They looked at each other with matching smirks. “none of our flipping business” he said at the same time as she echoed#“None of our fucking business”#He gasped immediatelly. “*Meiri!*”#The chastening was useless. She just shrugged innocently.#He'd really have to limit her library visits#the bell keeper hilda#meirdom#hilda the series#hilda netflix
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mag1c1ansred · 1 month
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guys i think kakyoin would canonically listen to rock and/or metal !! rip kakyoin u would’ve loved AC/DC or KORN honestly
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