#all those little bits where the underneath colours show through

[violetarks]

third year! bakugou katsuki thinks it's pathetic how everyone tries to ask you to be their valentine while you stand absolutely awkwardly and oblivious to their advances.

he rolls his eyes, scoffing at how you tilt your head and ask 'what do you mean?' when a new second-year tries to confess through a heartfelt letter a week before valentines day. he's sitting in the cafeteria, a few tables away from you where you stand with your tray. his friends catch his line of sight and begin to watch too as you awkwardly take the letter and mention how it's your favourite colour, what a coincidence.

"man, poor y/n." kaminari sighs, "been getting bombarded with valentine's day proposals."

"acting like you werent one last year." sero snickers, elbowing the blonde, who replies with 'shut up!'.

"y/n, todoroki and momo have to be the most popular third years. i saw todoroki carrying a fruit arrangement yesterday with 'be my valentine' on some flags." mina states, drinking her orange juice.

jirou retorts, poking her food, "did you see y/n's shoe locker when they opened it? they were basically drowning in all those letters. and their desk was full of teddy bears and hearts and flowers."

"yaoyorozu told me that she felt so bad because she rejected someone who choreographed a flash mob for her." kirishima inputs, "but seriously, so many people have tried getting with y/n, it's insane."

katsuki only rolls his eyes again as you thank the person, who runs away giddily. you're so uninterested in the person that you just pocket it in your blazer for later. katsuki chuckles at the action before returning to his food.

he thinks it's so funny that everyone is fawning over you. he understood todoroki and yaoyorozu, they've been popular since day one. but you? what did anyone see in you?

"hey, bakugou, are you alright?" you ask, standing in front of him on the porch of the dormitory. it's now five days later and he blinks himself back to reality and swallows the lump in his throat. "you were kinda' just staring at me and that girl just then..."

it's true, he was. a first year, some lovesick teen girl, came to confess to you just then. you hold some chocolates in your hand and a bouquet of roses in another. your third this week, he tallies.

"i—i wasn't." he stammers, looking away. he was leaning against the pillar, watching you as he took in some fresh air. it was pure coincidence, he says. "what... did you tell 'em?"

"i felt a bit sorry, she cried a little when i said i'm not a fan of this kind of chocolate." you express, showing him the box. katsuki smirks. you were so blunt. "i still accepted it though, to make her feel better. i don't even know her, though."

"strange." he responds, staring at you, "so what now then?"

"do you want it?"

"i don't want your fucking confession candy." he scoffs, furrowed brows. he's irritated at the offer and you just tuck the chocolates underneath your arm. "why'd you say 'no'?"

"i... don't know her." you state as if it was obvious. he blinks and looks away. "i dunno', i've been getting asked a lot recently."

"that so?" it's so pathetic, how anyone would trip and fall at your feet at the slight chance to share valentine's day with you. he could think of a thousand things better to do tomorrow than spend it with you—

"how come you haven't asked me yet?" you inquire, pursing your lips, "to be your valentine?"

"hah?" he huffs out, making the most outraged expression on his face, "what the hell did you just say to me?"

you sigh, opening the entrance door with your new gifts, "nevermind."

he stares at you as you leave him alone on the porch. questions swirl in his mind, making him think about you even more. is this how you made so many admirers? you just... made them think about you? you were absolutely crazy.

that's got to me the most pathetic thing about valentine's day, right?

wrong.

katsuki annoyedly drops the chocolates that he knows for sure you love. and as he passes the flower section, oh god, the amount of time he spent trying to figure out which ones were the perfect ones. the cashier looks at him knowingly, wishing him 'goof luck' on his endeavour. katsuki scoffs and tells them to shut his mouth.

what's pathetic is that katsuki readies himself for asking you. now that he's got confirmation that you were expecting him to, he would do it. he is standing in front of your dorm door, holding the flowers and chocolates and teddy bear in his arms. he knows you have hundreds in your room right now, but... he's pathetic.

when his hand goes up to knock on your door, the elevator reaches the floor and opens to reveal you in the sports uniform.

you walk up, typing on your phone when you look up to your dorm to see him. "oh, hey."

"hey." he mumbles, trying his best to hide the presents behind his back, "went on a run?"

"no, quirk training, actually." you respond, unlockong your dorm. you walk in and turn your head. "did you need to talk to me?"

"well... i—"

"are those for valentine's day?" you point to the flowers that are badly hiden behind him.

katsuki grunts, finally revealing them, "y—yeah... i don't know how to do this."

"come in." you say, inviting him into your dorm. he nervously enters and closes the door behind him. you sit at our desk, leg over your knee, almost like you're inspecting him thoroughly. "so, who is it for?"

he stops. "huh?"

"i mean, who are you asking?" you mumble out. he doesn't know what to say. do you not remember asking him to ask you yesterday? "you're looking for advice, aren't you?"

suddenly, he's on the fire. he's in the position that he made fun of those other people for being in. and it fucking sucks.

it takes all his courage to sigh out, "no... no, you idiot. i'm asking you."

"wha—? me?" you point at yourself.

"yes! here!" he practically shoves them into your hands and steps away away. "i... want you to be my valentine tomorrow. please."

his harsh tone makes you rethink his statement. but katsuki sees a smile dawn on your face regardless, something the others who have asked you haven't seen.

"thank you, bakugou. i love them."

he knows damn well you do.

"i'd be happy to be your valentine." you confirm, standing up and placing the flowers on your desk. you put the chocolates and teddy on your bed, smiling the whole time. he gulps in anticipation, despite you already saying 'yes'. "thank you, truly. it's perfect."

katsuki clears his throat, hands in his pockets and he looks away, "'s nothin'."

you chuckle and step towards him, hand on his shoulder as you give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"whatever you say. where did you wann' go tomorrow?"

he thinks it's pathetic how on valentine's day, you drag him to all the couple stalls and events, and even do a hand-reading (katsuki lets out a sigh of relief when they said that you two are quite the perfect match), but when it's with you, it's a lot less embarrassing to do it. in fact, he'd relive this whole day again if he could.

what's pathetic is how all those people thought they could have this time with you, when all you ever wanted was bakugou katsuki himself.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou #bakugou x reader #my hero academia #my hero acaedmia x reader #mha #mha x reader

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

concert, part 1

part 1 here (cw: age gap)

👑 (king): can I come pick you up? Me: yeah, sure, I’m almost ready 👑 (king): good, be there in 10

I look down at his text, smiling to myself, then I get myself ready. Checking my makeup, checking if I have everything in my little bag. Then I wait for him, nervously tapping my foot, thinking about our interactions over the last week.

I haven't seen him since the bar, we've just been texting and my god. He isn’t the biggest texter, but he never fails to answer a single one of my messages. Setting a new standard for sure.

My first message he answered within five minutes, making it a deal and asking me for the details on the concert. And then I had to send him all of my favourite songs, not just by Lorna Shore, but all the bands I talked about that he didn’t yet know. We were just talking about all the topics we could think about.

Like I wanted to know what accent it was that laced through his words when talking English and he told me that he actually was from Austria. I’ve never met someone who was from this country, so naturally I was curious. Especially why he lived here then and didn’t go back to Austria for his leave, which he just answered with a simple “I don’t have anything to go back to.” I didn’t want to pry, so I left it at that.

And he asked me what I did for a living and all my little hobbies. I could talk about those all day long, so there was a lot of back and forth (maybe a little bit more back from me than it was forth from him). I still was curious about his job as well, but I was too afraid to be called nosy again.

By the third day I got confident enough to accompany my messages with pictures. And no, not that kind of pictures. I just snap moments during my day and just them to him. My morning coffee, some scenery from my commute, a screengrab from the game I’m playing in the evening. Because I want to show what’s going on during my day.

It’s nice. It feels nice to talk to him. And we’re still kind of shy, holding back, but some of the texts even get flirty. My favourite thing to do during last week was to call him old every chance I got. Just to get a rise out of him.

I can’t help but feel that the last message has a double entendre. Like I should be the one worrying about keeping up. With him.

The doorbell rings and I go to open my door. It swings open and I almost rear back when his hulking figure towers over me. My god, I have forgotten how huge he is. I mean, I only saw it once when he got up from the table.

He's wearing the same worn leatherjacket and a shirt underneath. A Lorna Shore shirt. He got it right on time for the concert. I know because he sent me a picture when the package arrived.

"Hi.", I say looking up at him.

"Hi yourself.", he answers with a smile. "Looking good."

"Thanks.", I say as I do a little twirl for him, my skirt swaying while I do the turn. When I land on my two feet again, my DocMartens stomping onto the floor, I see his gaze wander up my body.

His lids are hooded, his mouth is slightly opened and I can see the row of strong teeth blink through. Our eyes meet and I feel a zap of excitement running down my spine. It just got harder to breathe. Because he looks at me like I would taste good. It’s actually making me a bit nervous. And I don’t think anybody ever looked at me like that.

“What?”, I throw in his direction, swaying from one foot to the other.

"Nothing…” is all he says, shaking his head. But it doesn’t feel like nothing. “Come on, let's get going. You have the tickets?", he asks.

I point at the little bag clasped to my belt. "Got everything in here." He nods and gestures me to exit the flat. I do so and lock the door behind me, following him down to the street where his car is parked.

It’s a Mercedes G-wagon. A fucking G-wagon. I don’t know which car I suspected, but I guess not this one. Although it makes sense when I see him right next to it. The kind of military look of the car, the colour (black, of course), it being quite an expensive brand, but also an older model, judging from the wear on the outside. Also a spacious enough car for a big man like him.

He stops at the passenger side and opens the door for me. And I can't help but melt a little. The gentlemanly gesture with him looking just like he looks. The big stature, the worn leatherjacket with the tattooed hands showing, the slight aura of danger around him that makes much more sense since I know he’s a soldier, that part of him not fully vanishing even when he’s on leave. The timid smile he gives me when I thank him for holding the door open for me emphasizing the contrast between his hard looking exterior and the softer core.

He waits for me to climb up into the seat, shutting the door for me and going around the car, to the driver's side. I snuggle into the leather of the car seat and look around a bit. His scent engulfs me, a warm, manly note, and I suppress a sigh. This man is just too much, and I'm going to a concert with him.

He gets in and starts the car which also turns on the sound system and a flurry of guitar sounds, drums and the distinguished voice of Chuck Schuldiner blasts from the speakers. I recognize the song instantly. "Oh, I love Spirit Crusher. The whole album actually."

He grins at me. "I thought so, that's why I put it on." He hands me the CD sleeve. "I bought this when I was like... maybe 16 or 17?"

"Oh my god, really?", I exclaim, inspecting the case. I turn to him pointing at the release date on the back, a mischievous grin forming on my lips. "That's the year I was born."

He sighs and rolls his eyes, snatching the CD case from me. "Yeah, yeah, we've already established that I'm old, ancient even." I bite back a laugh, doing a bad job at it. He leans forward, inching closer to my face. “Now what’s so funny, huh?”

I shake my head still grinning. “Nothing.” I pause for effect. “Old man.”, I add teasingly.

His gaze is burning into me. “Uh-huh, ain’t that right.” The slightly threatening undertone is not lost on me and it makes me shift in my seat.

He doesn’t say anything else, just pulls out of the parking space, and drives us to the concert location. The atmosphere gets a little bit more relaxed when he asks me about how work has been today (because we haven’t texted about that yet). I go on a rant because work really has been kicking my ass lately and my boss keeps getting on my nerves. So the car ride to the venue is filled with me explaining all of the details of what’s going on which would’ve have been too much to type out.

I’m still complaining about my boss’s antics when we enter the tall concert building. I show our tickets to the security guys at the entrance and they check us for stuff that you can’t bring into the venue. Well, they check me without hesitation, the security lady patting me down and taking a look into the little bag I have with me.

The security guy that has the pleasure of checking him hesitates for more than just a bit and I can see the little grin on König’s face as he’s towering over him, almost a head taller, and looking the most intimidating I’ve seen him yet.

“Don’t worry, he doesn't bite.”, I joke with the security guard who rolls his eyes, but finally goes to pat down the big guy.

König’s grin turns mischievous, looking down at him while he’s being checked. “Only if asked to.”, he says, glancing at me. And then he fucking winks. And I almost trip over my own feet. I steady myself, going down the stairs, taking a deep breath to calm myself down. Because that planted an image in my head I wasn’t ready for.

He catches up to me. “I’ll drop my jacket off and then we can get a beer?”, he suggests and I nod, following his lead. His hand drops to the small of my back, guiding me as we maneuver through the crowds of people. And I try to ignore how this light touch is making me feel.

We get in line at the bar and something I wanted to talk to him about burns at the tip of my tongue. Especially now that I’ve seen the expression on his face when somebody pushes past me, accidently brushing against me.

“Can you promise me something?”, I ask, putting on my nicest face to heighten the chances of him agreeing to it.

His lips curl into a sly smile when he sees the way I’m looking at him. “That depends on what you want me to promise.”

“Please don't stomp on any of the people if they bump into me.”, I tell him.

“Hm, I don't know if I can promise that.”, he answers with an honest tone in his voice, but the mischief in his eyes is telling a different story. “I have to look out for my concert companion, don’t I?”

“Well, can you at least leave them in one piece? I wanna leave the concert a free woman and not an accomplice to murder.”, I explain, not even taking myself seriously.

He laughs. “I think, we can arrange that.” He playfully nudges me with his arm and I almost topple over because I didn’t expect that. An “Oh shit” drops from his lips while his hands reach for my waist to steady me, and my first reaction is to hold onto him. His arm to be exact. My fingers grab onto his lower arms and I can feel the strong cords of muscle beneath my fingertips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“, he says.

I shake my head, interrupting him. “Don’t apologize, it takes more to break me.” Which sounds completely wrong and dirty in my mind, now that I think about it. But the sentence already left my lips. He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his heated gaze on me, even when I don’t look up at him, still holding onto his arm when we reach the front of the line. Ordering beers that he pays for, just like we agreed to. I snatch up the two glasses and head to a quieter corner.

König isn't a big talker, although he seems more relaxed now, so it's still mostly me yapping about stuff that comes to my mind while we wait for the concert to start, him asking questions in between, nodding along, listening, and sipping his beer.

"I'm sorry, I feel like I’m talking too much.", I finally interrupt myself, smiling up at him apologetically.

He shakes his head. "No, it's fine, don't worry about it. I like hearing you talk." And his words make me blush and actually shut up for a brief moment where I can just smile into my beer and bask in the compliment.

“I think they’re starting soon, you want to go in?”, he asks me, smiling down at me.

“Yes, we can do that.”, I nod and we make our way into the hall. It’s already packed, but with König it’s easy because the crowd parts, looking up at the tall man when he passes. We find a spot that’s more in the back of the room, so he doesn’t obstruct the view of too many people.

I stand right in front of him, looking up at him, to see him scanning the people around us, observing every little bit that’s going on. His arm wraps around my waist, in theory a small little gesture. But his touch makes me light up, his fingertips softly digging into my hips. His fingers stroking ever so slightly, skimming over the fabric of my skirt, seemingly not even thinking about it. And I take the chance to lean myself against him, feigning the same innocence as he does.

Suddenly, the symphonic part of 'Welcome Back, O’ Sleeping Dreamer' starts playing over the speaker and the concert begins. I smile up at him and jump up and down all excited, pulling at his shirt to get his reaction. He laughs, even though I don’t hear the sound because the whole room erupts in cheers and shouts, only getting louder when the band comes on stage and the drums and guitars set in.

I get the impression that he’s enjoying it as well and the smile on my face gets even wider when he starts headbanging with the crowd. And it makes me happy to see him like that. The music sweeps me up and carries me away and I start to move with the harsh sounds blasting from the speakers.

What I don't know or see is the way he's looking at me when I scream the lyrics from the top of my lungs. How mesmerized he seems when I jump and mosh to the next song, dancing without a care in the world. How my wild and energetic euphoria of being at a concert infects him, even if he's still being a bit self-conscious.

It's been a long time since he actually has been to a concert. And he hasn't been all too sure why he even offered to go with me other than seizing the opportunity to see me again. But right now, standing in the crowd experiencing the thrill of live music once again, he remembers why he enjoyed it so much when he was younger.

to be continued - the concert is not over yet!

part 3 or more stuff in the Masterlist

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

[upsidedownwithsteve]

HELL YEAH BABY 🌤️

my request is grumpy!reader not liking summer because it's so hot, everybody is sweaty, bad sunburns, and thigh chafing from being forced out of wearing jeans due to the heat. maybe she overheats easily and can get irritated/snappy and starts to feel sick when she gets too hot

and, of course, sunshine!Steve (who is summer incarnate) doing everything to change her mind: taking care of her to try to help with the things she doesn't like, showing her fun things to do that make her comfortable, doing everything he can to make her at least a little bit happy that it's bright and sunny and warm, etc.

love you emmy you're so talented and your brain is so big and sexy ok bye

myo! summer steve for u 🧡

“Y’know, you’ll feel better if you get in.”

Steve was in the pool - his pool - the back yard quiet for once, empty of kids who liked to raid the freezer for popsicles and argue over the one sun lounger that didn’t have the dodgy wheel.

Your boyfriend was in the water, had been all morning, hair damp, skin slick, shoulders tanned and nose freckling. Steve was slumped over the pool edge, the sun making the ripples reflect off of his face, honey coloured eyes and last nights stubble. His lips were shiny, chlorine flavoured, chest smelling like sunscreen and the perfume you’d left on his bedsheets.

“I don’t wanna,” you lied. You were perched in the shade, lingering in the gloom of the patio awning with a frown on your face that was barely concealed by the sunglasses you’d stolen from the boy. “It’s too hot.”

You were borderline miserable and happy to wallow in it, the Indiana sun making your skin prickle under its heat, too hot for jeans, too uncomfortably sticky for anything that made your thighs touch. You sighed, mournful.

“Baby,” Steve was soft with the way he said it, a placating thing that you knew too well. If you looked over at him, you knew you’d find him pouting. He was. “The water’ll help cool you down, c’mon.” He extended a hand, dripping dots onto the tiles that dried too quick.

“There’s no shade in the pool,” you argued feebly, but you were up and walking towards him anyway, scowling when the patio had the audacity to burn your bare feet. “M’gonna die.”

Steve tutted, staving off a grin. “Dramatic,” he muttered, eyes on you as you played with the tie on your dress, staring at the blue water in consideration. “I won’t let you die, promise.”

You were still frowning.

Steve tried again, “c’mon, honey. I’m getting real lonely here. Come play.”

Maybe it was his words, maybe it was the way his biceps flexed when he lifted a hand to push back his hair, ropes of muscle down his forearms. Maybe it was just because the sun was so fucking hot.

You pulled off your dress, cotton catching on your damp skin, uncaring where it landed. Bikini already underneath, peach coloured and almost too small to be appropriate, you made your way to the stairs. Steve grinned, triumphant, treading water as he watched you walk around the pool edge. A low whistle, flirtatious enough that it made you warmer still.

“There she is,” he called out, salacious in his tone. He made his way towards you, meeting you by the steps, hands held out for you to wade into. “Can’t believe you were gonna try n’ hide all that from me. Traitor.”

The pool water was cool on your skin even if Steve was warm. Slick body, rough hands, hard muscle, soft skin; you let him manhandle you until you were wrapped around him, allowing him to carry you through the water without complaint.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, face buried in the crook of his neck, embarrassed by his flirting, even after all those years.

You weren’t frowning anymore.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington one shot #steve baby blurb

[redprotons]

'Let's get you out of those wet clothes'

A little one-shot fic for the DoctorRose bingo!

Doctor ends up in icy water pushing Rose out of harms way, leaving her to care for him.

Warnings: swearing, nakedness, lewd comments (but no porn light or otherwise - sorry), medical procedures.

Full story under the cut, it's also up on AO3

He knocked into her with force. She went skidding on wobbly knees across, what she thought, was thick ice. A second later, she heard the bone-shaking, rumbling crack. Looking behind her, her eyes met his in terror before he plummeted into the sub-zero water.

“DOCTOR!” she screamed, scrambling towards the gap in the ice. The ice shifted and gave way under her, and with a glance back towards where she last saw the Doctor, she was forced to scurry to her feet and run in the opposite direction,  slipping and sliding back towards the lake's shore before the water swallowed her too.

Jumping to make it to the shabby wooden jetty before she fell, as soon as she was on solid ground, she spun back to the water. “DOCTOR!” she yelled into the snowy abyss, frantically scanning for any sign of movement. “DOCTOR!” Her throat was sore, the bitter cold caught her voice and made her cough, but she kept yelling anyway. She could see nothing but white and the deep blue of the water underneath. “DOCTOR! PLEASE!”

“R- rose.” he spluttered.

She whipped around. He was behind her, half his body in the water, the other clinging to the frozen muddy bank. She hadn’t heard him surface. Immediately, she raced around to where he was, losing her footing as she slipped on the ice. “Hold on.” she said. “I’m coming.”

His was so cold her skin numbed even through her thick, waterproof, future-built gear. Still, she grabbed him, dragging him out of the water. His coat was like heavy chains around his shoulders. She grunted with the effort to get it off and away from him, leaving it on the solid mud. Planting her feet so she wouldn’t fall, she wrapped her arms around his middle and pulled him up the bank to flatter ground. He was soaking and barely taking his own weight.

“I’m fine.” he muttered.

“Bull shit!” she snipped.

He shut up.

Despite the bitter cold, she was sweating as they finally, finally reached the Tardis. It was less than a mile away, parked close to the edge of a bend in the s-shaped lake, but she was having to take all his weight, feeling him shiver in bursts through her thick coat.

The doors opened on their own, and Rose didn’t stop to look on in awe, instead the twist of her gut got worse. It showed her just how serious this was.

The infirmary was right next to the console room. Straining with his weight she dragged him over to the closest chair and sat him down.

His eyes were closed, his skin white, and his lips drained of colour. But he was breathing – breathing was good. She lightly patted his face. “Doctor. DOCTOR!”

He groaned, turning his head to the side. Groggily blinking his eyes open, another wave of shivering coursed through him and Rose's heart broke at the sight.

Her medical knowledge from that film she saw and the clues from the Tardis would have to do. He needed help right now.

“Okay.” she said quickly. “Let’s get you out of those clothes, yeah?”

Cheeks absolutely pink, she unbuttoned his jacket, struggling with the gloves she was wearing. She bit them off, chucking them away, and undid his tie, removing his shoes and socks. He chuckled, ticklish from her touching his feet, but otherwise he stayed quiet. Her mind was only on getting him better and warming him up. She struggled with the layers of undershirts he wore, reminding her of a game of pass the parcel.

“God, how many of these do you wear.” she complained, huffing what she hoped was the last vest over his head.

He didn’t respond, but thankfully that was the last top. Right, now for...

Her hands hovered over the fastening of his trousers. Biting her lip, she pushed down the uncomfortableness and undid the buttons. “Sorry.” she mumbled, pulling off his trousers which clung to his legs. The soaking clothes were so cold her hands stung. She kept going, moving to take off his underwear. Dripping wet, they left nothing to the imagination. She paused, changing her mind. She’d get him in the bed first, get some pyjamas for him, then take off his pants.

“Okay, stand up.” she said, putting his arm across her shoulder and dragging him towards the cot with the covers already pulled back – thank you Tardis.

The mattress was heated, and Rose allowed for a little relief. She wrapped him up tight, like her mum used to do, hoping the Tardis would know the temperature he needed to recover. “Just rest, I’ll be back with some clothes.”

“My bum’s all wet.” he said pathetically.

She stroked his hair. “I know, I know. I’m fixing it, yeah? Just hold on a few minutes.”

She sprinted out of the room, not wanting to leave him alone for a second. She stopped, searching the corridors, bouncing on her feet. The wardrobe room was ages away past the bins. Why hadn’t the Tardis moved it closer?

A light flickered on further down the corridor and Rose charged.

If the circumstances weren’t so dire, she’d be so much nosier. She was in his room – he actually had one. Grand and almost militarily organised with the bed pristinely made, the only mess the piles of books stacked around. The pyjamas lay neatly folded on top of an ottoman at the foot of the bed. She grabbed them in a hurry and ran back the way she came.

He was asleep when she entered, curled up in the blankets.

“Doctor?” She stroked his hair. He leaned into her touch but didn’t open his eyes. “Listen.” she said softly. “I’m going to change you into your pyjamas… okay?”

He moaned weakly. “But it’s cold.”

“I know, it’s cos your bum’s wet, yeah? I got you some dry clothes.”

He whined like a toddler as she pulled the covers off him, fighting her for them, his brow creased in dopey frustration.

“Doctor, please. Come on. Let go.”

He did, pouting at her.

As she pulled the blankets back, he folded his arms across his chest, curling up into a ball, shivering from the stolen warmth.

Rose took a deep, fortifying breath and reached for the seam of his underwear, looked away, and pulled them carefully down his bum.

“Oi! That’s very naughty, Rose.” he complained, jolting up and trying to pull his pants back up.

“Doctor!” she yelled, scandalised and glowing a glorious red. She fumbled over her next words. He was ill, she reminded herself. He was ill. “J – just sit back down. And don’t move.”

He smirked mischievously at her. “Oh, so you’re one of those, are you?” He sat back down. “I like it.”

Rose pushed his comment, way, way back in her brain for further pondering and unpicking later. It required a lot of effort, but she managed it, slipping his underwear down his legs and through his feet, leaving the Doctor nude on the bed. She turned to grab his pyjamas just behind her.

“Rose.” he asked weakly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m cold.”

“I know.” she said, her expression softening. “I’m working on it, don’t worry.”

She rolled the legs of the pyjama trousers up, so she could slip them easily through his legs. But unlike her mum, who could do it in seconds, she struggled coordinating the whole affair. Why were his legs so lanky? He was still damp so the material stuck to him. She sighed in frustration, giving up. “Doctor, you’re going to have to lift your bum up off the bed.”

“You’re a dirty girl, Rose Tyler.” He giggled like a schoolgirl.

“Doctor, please.”

“No!” he said, like a toddler.

She tried not to scream at him. “Please.” she begged.

“No.” he said, curling up into more of a ball, leaving her no opening at all to manoeuvre the trousers.

“Please.”

His expression told her he was not going to budge.

She huffed. Changing approach, she softened her voice and stroked his hair. “For me.”

He considered it with great concentration. “Anything for Rose.” he said after a few seconds, lifting his weight so he was supporting himself on his elbows and feet.

"Yes!" she cried in delight. “That's it.”

He smiled to himself at the praise, giving her time to, finally, get him dressed. She was careful to pull back the seem of the elastic when she got to his nether region. It was impossible not to see given what she had to do and the angle he was at; yet, she remained professional, pulling the trousers up to his waist and tying the string around his hips.

“You’re not going to give it a kiss?” he said cheekily, having watched her every move.

She was flabbergasted, it took her a few seconds of open-mouthed gaping to come to her senses. “Oi! Now who’s being naughty! What was that out of your mouth just now?”

He blinked at her. His face scrunched up. Tears pricked his eyes. “I’m sorry.” he spluttered, bursting into sobs.

Immediately she pulled him into a hug, unable to see him hurt no matter what he’d just said. He was ill, she reminded herself again. She stroked his back, and he hugged her tight. His body was still so, so cold. “There, there, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” She needed to get him warm and dry, back in the bed where the Tardis wanted him. She pulled back but he clung on to her. She pried herself out of his arms, only for him to cry at the loss.

Oh, how that broke her.

“I’m coming back, promise. You just have to put this on first.” Since he was acting so much like a child - well, more like one than he’d ever been - she decided the best approach was to treat him like one. “Be good for me, yeah? Then we can hug again. Sit up, and stick your arms out.”

He sniffed through his tears, his bottom lip stuck out, but did as she asked, sitting up in the bed and holding his arms out like a scarecrow.

She beamed at him, and for a moment understood the relief her mum must’ve felt when she was a kid. “That’s it. Well done.”

“I’m being a good boy?” he asked. Was he teasing her or being utterly genuine? Rose couldn’t tell from his voice.

She decided not to take any risks. “You’re being a very good boy.” she agreed dramatically, weaving his hands through the sleeves and pulling the front together to fasten the buttons on Howard’s pyjamas that he still hadn’t returned. “You can put your arms down now.”

He did, thankfully, letting them flop down by his sides.

“Alright now get into bed and I’ll tuck you in, nice and snug.”

His face dropped. “You’re not going to stay with me?”

There were so many ways that could be interpreted – in the Tardis, in the room, or with him in general.

“You only tuck someone in when you’re about to leave.” he added.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here. But you’re cold, remember? So, I need to tuck you in so you get warm.”

He grabbed her in a hug. “Oh, Rose, you are brilliant! That’s why I love you soooo much.” Before she could react further, he pulled back and messily crashed his lips to hers, sloppily sticking his tongue in her mouth.

Grimacing, she pushed him off.

The Doctor just beamed at her, very pleased with himself. And as she gaped at him, his face fell, as if trying to remember something. He started laughing. “Uh-oh. I said it out loud. Naughty Doctor.” He slapped himself on the palm.

He was getting worse. “Alright, alright, bed, Mr.” She held the covers up for him to lie down. “Come on.”

He watched her. “Are you my mummy?” he asked in a child-like voice.

“Shut up.” she said, failing to hide her smile.

The Doctor smirked in victory. “You laughed!”

A computer close to the entrance turned itself on, the light catching her attention. Really, she didn’t know if he should be sleeping. But the Tardis seemed to know what to do, and she trusted the ship would protect her pilot.

“Come on.” she said. The computer was important. “Stop messing about.”

He pouted at her, and looked like he was going to rebel, but she conjured up her sternest most Jackie-like glare and he conceded. “You’re scary when you’re angry, Rose.” he said flatly, shuffling back into bed and resting his head on the pillows.

“Yeah, I am scary, so go to sleep.” she said, tucking him in as tight as she could. He exhaled, happily snug and cocooned.

She stepped back from the bed.

“You’re not going to stroke my head again?” the Doctor whined, lifting his head up, his wet hair sticking in all directions.

Rose sighed in frustration. glancing back at the computer. The old girl wanted her to do something else now, time could be of the essence… but she just could not say no to those big sad eyes of his. “Were you always this spoilt.” she complained, stepping back towards him and stroking his hair.

The Doctor smiled in victory, resting his head back on the pillow. She ran her fingers through his hair, and his eyes closed in delight. He hummed. “Koschei used to say so, but he was just jealous my dad was nice while his was a right meanie-bo-beanie.”

Rose stuttered. He’d never mentioned anyone so far back in his past before. Again, she pushed down the hundreds of questions in her brain. Right now, he needed to sleep, so she could go to the computer and do whatever she needed to do.

After a couple of minutes, he was snoring softly. Tentatively she removed her hand, her shoulders slumping in relief when he didn’t stir. He looked so peaceful in his sleep. She couldn’t help it, leaning in and giving him a gentle kiss on the head. “I’ll just be over there. Promise.” she whispered to him, checking the covers were closed around him.

The language had switched to English, and was set up like Mickey’s PC in his flat – the Tardis’s doing she was sure. There was an icon with the words, ‘patient diagnostic’ under it and she double clicked.

What appeared looked like an internet ad ‘run’ in big flashing letters. Rose tried not to be too offended at the ship’s view of her intelligence – it was better too obvious than too complicated. She clicked, and the cursor morphed into an hourglass. Behind her, the underneath of the Doctor’s bed glowed from one end to the other, like the bed frame was a giant scanner, data loading on the screen.

He remained sound asleep, but as she jabbed the needle into his neck, he whimpered and tried to hide before succumbing fully to deep sleep. She felt absolutely awful. Like she was scum. “I’m sorry, Doctor.” she said, tears in her eyes.

The computer had told her what to do and how to do it, and the Tardis had let her know where everything was. He needed this one injection, just the one – thank God, because actually hurting him… it was not something she wanted to repeat any time soon – to trigger him into something called a healing coma. She stroked his hair and held his hand, telling him that everything would be alright, that she was here, that she wasn’t going to leave, and eventually he settled.

According to the computer, he’d be out for anything from two to four days. She thought of the hospital visits for her gran, but the Tardis didn’t tell her to set up water drips or leave a bedpan close by,  so she assumed he’d be alright sleeping that long without any food or drink or needing to use the loo.

She guessed she'd just have to wait. Sighing, she slung off her thick coat, her hoodie underneath drenched in sweat. Stripping down to her t-shirt and taking off her ski-trousers, she heard something flop down behind her. A set of her favourite pyjamas were draped over a comfy-looking chair which had suddenly appeared by his bedside.

She reached out to the wall of the infirmary. "Thanks girl."

She woke up to someone shaking her shoulder. “Rose.”

She blinked, feeling the dried drool on her chin. It’d been a long forty-eight hours of watching over him out of pure dread something would happen while he was asleep. It took her a few slow blinks to register he was awake. Her eyes popped open. “Doctor! Are you alright!?”

Something was wrong, he wasn’t looking at her. “I’m fine.” he said, letting go of her hand. “I’m sorry about… you know, what I did… kissing you like that and everything I said.”

Ah, so he did remember... well as least that part. The computer programme had told her there was a 72% chance of memory loss on waking, with a 42% chance of some memories returning within seventy-two hours. It also told her some other things too, like he was suffering from C-PTSD, sleep deprivation due to nightmares and resulting sleep anxiety,  and an unidentified genetic condition… but she decided to keep that information to herself.

Her expression softened. “It’s okay, really.” She retook his hand. “You were sick, Doctor. And you didn’t hurt me, I promise. Surprised me maybe,” With his very adorable drunk-like confession of love - that, and the fact he thought about sex after all. “But not hurt me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” she said with certainty.

He smirked at her, gratitude in his eyes. “You’re brilliant, you know that?”

Something flickered across his face, and Rose knew he, just at that moment, the other,very important, very cute thing he also said last night caught up to him. He adverted his gaze, staring at his hands. “But… you know, what I said… after that stuff about my… anyway – that other thing I said, I meant…. you – you do know that, right?”

She brightened, lighting the whole room. He wasn’t denying it. Wasn’t pretending it didn’t happen. And for him, that was huge. This was as close to a confession as she was going to get, and she’d take it with both hands and never let go. “Well, it was nice to hear how you 'love me soo much' out loud.” she teased, joyous over how his cheeks got a little pink. Her voice softened. “But that’s why we’re together, yeah? Rose and the Doctor, in the Tardis, as it should be.”

He gave her that look reserved only for her, that one where his eyes lit up. “Yeah.” he said. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

She sat up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

#doctor who #them <3 #tenth doctor #rose tyler #my work :) #fanfiction #doctorrosebingor2

[asuraid]

aid’s collection of neat art tricks

aka I wanted to compile all the neat things I’ve learned and picked up over the years across various sources; I wish I knew some of these, but they’re scattered across a variety of social medias and some from conversations.

of course, these are not a must and just have helped me! I just wanted to put them all in one place in hopes that maybe it’ll click something in someone like it has for me. c: I’m not the best at explaining, but I hope it makes sense!

some may use Clip Studio assets but can be replicated through other methods (or done by hand in the case of how I do my lineart colouring), but do keep in mind all of these are written with CSP in mind.

this is pretty heavy in images and gifs, and is quite long.

how to quickly fill your outlines (CSP tool)

this is a CSP specific method, but this tool has been my absolute saviour for making colouring so much easier for me (even if sometimes it still does require me to manually fill in some holes or erase sections). the bulk of how it works is explained in the tool as well, but I’m going to show a gif example for myself!

you have to make sure your lineart is set as the reference layer to ensure this tool does work; with messy outlines (like my own) you may need to manually fill in holes as can be seen in the gif above; with cleaner outlines, you don’t need to worry as much, but you may have some bleeding out of the lines for places that are a bit too close together (as you can see below, those areas would need to be erased). 

the tool can also help to close ‘gaps’ between colours!

I usually tend to have a ‘base’ colour that I just clip a folder of flat colours to, so it doesn’t bleed outside of it, but I’m also a nested folder freak to make sure everything is cleanly separated and doesn’t get ‘destroyed’ while I work on it. this tool just makes it so much easier to get that base down and just jump right into adding flats.

adding a little pop of depth

this one is thanks to a clip studio article itself where I saw it from, and I’ve been using it in practically all my drawings so far; all it is, is a simple blue-ish overlay layer with some muted yellow/red shading to give it a bit of a “3D” effect, for me I enjoy more that it adds a bit more colour variation underneath (usually lowered to 20-50% opacity, depends on the drawing)

the article definitely explains it a bit more nicely, but this is an example of having it at 50% opacity over one of my drawings

making your lineart feel less ... boring?

of course, boring is subjective from person to person, but I’ve always found my lineart to be too boring by itself 

like this is fine, but it’s missing some kind of oomph. there are two tricks I use when it comes to sprucing up my lineart: using the watercolour edge effect in CSP, and a combo of coloured outlines + black outlines

first things first, the watercolour edge option: by default it’s a bit too strong, so I usually find the sweet spot to be at 1 range and with an opacity of ~20

this can be replicated through duplicating your lineart, and if the option is available, using gaussian blur on the duplicated lineart to achieve around a similar effect.

coloured outlines!

when it comes to colouring my lineart, truth be told I do use a wonderful auto action for it which can be found here, and there is this alternative one as well (which i’ll be trying now!!!). 

it is a little different since it uses the flats, vs the one i use which just requires you to have the lineart selected, but as you can see it is a very quick way to colour your lineart ... this isn’t perfect by itself and will require you to have your flats finished.

this is my process: outlines done, autoaction, cleaning up by adding black outlines where they’re required and fixing up sections where the colours don’t quite make sense (like the sleeve area).

as you can see with the last drawing, I also tend to add a black outline around the outside of the piece, I personally found I really enjoy the contrast of the dark outside and coloured interior lines, as you can see in this little sample; it just adds a bit more visual interest for me!

unfortunately, outside of manually doing it, I cannot think of alternatives for this specific action (perhaps duplicating + flattening all your colours and placing it on top of the lineart may be a start)

crunchy textures and pretty colours ...

the texture i use on top of my drawings can be found in this CSP asset pack (though the marker brushes themselves are very lovely, and I’ve used them myself). this can be replicated through adding perlin noise, but I just find this texture to tickle the good spots in my brain, and it’s why I use it on pretty much all my drawings for some additional visual goodies.

yes, i am also a person who uses gradient maps. I usually tend to use them as finishers and more subtle ways to add more colours and variations to keep my shading from looking too flat, but they do have to be handled with care lest they become overwhelming. vampbyte does a wonderful introductory thread on gradient maps, how they function, and how they can be used.

they can be found through layer > new correction layer > gradient map -- or at least that’s how i usually access mine!

i often place mine at 20% opacity on the colour mode, though soft light and overlay also do their own fancy things! really depends on which you like most and works with your piece.

an example of my chibi w/o texture and colour gradients vs the texture + colour gradient ... as you can see it does change the colours quite a bit, so usually it does take me a bit of playing around to find a colour gradient I like (I’m a gremlin who has downloaded a lot of them) and to play with opacity values.

and to top it off, here’s the combination of all of these vs one with them all off.

how i personally shade (multiply layers)

i usually tend to either go for multiply shading over the whole drawing using one colour (and a few lil tricks to add more depth) for smaller pieces, or hard light shading for bigger and more complex pieces since it has more value depth.

my multiply layers are usually just one or two layers using around the same off-purple shade (though i shuffle it around pending on how it looks on the drawing

the second layer is a duplicate of the first, and i usually use an airbrush to either erase or expand areas to give it a softer shade (as you can see in the gif, the second layer is definitely missing chunks), or to add a different colour to the shading that isn’t the off-purple

how i personally shade (hard light mode)

this one’s a bit more of a mouthful, and thanks to a friend who introduced me to it! my second method is hard light shading, which, at its simplest, is greyscale shading and feels like it leans more into ‘painting’ your shades (as it works best with a brush that blends colours).

although I’m obliterating my own art here, it’s to show that most of your work will be in the greyscale/muted colours! it is inherently a non-destructive method of shading, so any changes to the colours underneath will maintain the shading regardless. normally I do have to duplicate the layer a second time since I don’t go too close to black shades, and it gives me a bit more control over how ‘hard’ I want my shading to be.

the middle is your ‘neutral’ shade, aka what you want to fill your entire hard light layer with, then your lighter greys will be your highlights, and darker greys your shading! 

alternatively, you’re looking for this when you want to find your ‘neutral’ shade.

once you got your hard light layer filled with your base/neutral shade, grab your favourite painting/blending brush and go ham!

as a heads up: when it comes to skin or warm colours in general, you may need to get out of the greyscale range otherwise it will look too desaturated and grey, as you can see below. for any other tones, the greys usually work well.

as of the moment, I think that’s all the little tricks I use when doing art, I hope it helps you guys!

(unless I somehow remember something else, but these are usually my default tricks I use for everything)

#art tutorial #clip studio paint tutorial #digital art tutorial #clip studio paint #tutorial #art tricks #mine.txt #10 #20 #50 #100 #200

[catnikwrites-blog]

Johnten drabble

A simple truth.

It's in the silence of the air, in the heat of the room despite the air con on full blast. It's in the way there's an invisible string strung taut, waiting to be snapped with a wrong word and right move. Johnny breathes but it's like the air belongs only to the man in front.

Even something as simple as a breath, all at his fingertips. Long and beautiful, tapping against the glass of his desk. Johnny's posture is as straight as it can be and yet. His entire being itches–what's missing?

He can't make mistakes.

Not in front of him.

"Another fight?" He asks, voice so quiet, and yet to Johnny it takes up all the room. Demanding attention, lean in to see the way his expression shifts the most minute bit: lips quirked at the corner, brows raised in anticipation of an answer. All that's missing is the devil's tail and his infamous grin, and Johnny will no longer feel as human as he will a meal the other would like to sink his teeth in. Maybe rip apart, and see if the insides are any appealing to his appetite.

"I'm sorry, sir," he says, which just turns Ten amused. "It was–"

"A mistake?" He asks, fingers stopping their movement, face rested on a palm. Johnny's heart stops right along with it, a shot of fear down his spine when Ten's gaze narrows, "you're not here for mistakes, sweetheart."

He knows. He knows–"I'm here for you." And Ten looks satisfied, no telling when his mood could flip. 

"I have a party to attend," he says, and it couldn't be more obvious from his attire alone–to an eye-catching change in hair colour down to his outfit, Ten's taken a new persona out of his closet for show tonight. He stands, running his fingers back through the slicked hair, a few strands landing right on his temple only to make him look better.

He's a gift of nature, anyways–every part sculpted alive with the divinity's pride. Johnny's glad of his dumb decision only for one thing; getting to see him so close, so easily.

Ten stands, the clack of his shoes loud enough to take him back to his very first night here. Johnny wonders if the heels of these would feel just as heavy on his chest as those did, before he'd been trained and honed like Ten's finest weapon. 

The closer he gets the easier it is to pick out.

Jasmine. An ironic little scent, worn to impress, intended to kill. He wonders just where the other's going, spotting the glint of something in his belt. Armed, too. "Johnny," he says, and his attention snaps to him in an instant, breaking from contemplation to the present, Ten waiting with his arms behind his back, coming right in front. "You know how I am, don't you?" He asks, a sweet smile gracing his petal lips, lush and red and a little spit-slicked from how much he's been teething at it.

"I hate interruptions," he murmurs, arm forward, a finger dragging right over his shirt. Ten starts going up starting from his abdomen, every point of contact a mini short circuit for Johnny's skin underneath. "I hate distractions." He drags it right over his chest, circling where his tattoo is, branded on skin.

"Especially," he starts, Johnny feeling the mark of him underneath the layers burn, Ten taking a step closer, and tilting his head up to meet his eyes. Smile still there, and eyes cold, "when a thing of mine, is the one causing it."

Before he can say anything else, Ten's already got him on his knees, Johnny coughing as the impact to his abdomen and knee have him heaving. Ten tilts Johnny's chin up with a finger, thumb digging over his lower lip, dragging across the plump flesh with utmost focus that makes his gut pool with something warm. Johnny's heart is beating crazy fast, the pain subsiding bit by bit the longer Ten stares.

"Be a good little boy," he whispers,"and stay put, Johnny. You'll do that for me, won't you?"

He can't get himself to speak, mouth drying up when Ten's eyes turn hooded. An ocean of black, molten and dark, eager to drown. Ten leans down, face inches from his, breath fanning across Johnny's lips. There's something about him–he can't help but imagine, closing the gap and letting him tear into him anyway.

Atleast he'll have him all to himself. "Words," he says, nail digging into his lip instead, unafraid to make him bleed. Johnny finds his voice.

"Yes, sir," Ten seems satisfied. And as if he could read his harmless little fantasy right off his face, Ten gives him a  sweet kiss, done as soon as it started. Johnny's eyes flutter shut regardless, the phantom of his lips lingering and teasing for so long after anyway.

"I'll deal with you when I'm back," Ten says, finally taking his coat, a long thing that turns him larger than life, heading to the door. He glances at home over his shoulder, giving him a last look, "you know the rules, don't you?"

Listen well, and be rewarded. "I do," and he's finally leaving, Johnny stuck still on his knees, till however long it takes him to get back.

#johnten #Johnny #Ten #NCT #Wayv #nct 127 #drabble #Wip

[swirly-wirly]

Alrighty. I have another idea.

U know all those fanfics where Ur part of the league, need to infiltrate ua, the heroes etc. What if U set up Ur first meeting with the chicken man himself, after all, first impressions r everything, right? 😉

(I have no idea what city hawk's agency is in, it starts with a K, I'm pretty sure it's Kyushu but I'm pretty sure that's wrong)

The timeline is just a little bit before shigaraki takes over the liberation front...

It was a cold, windy afternoon in Kyushu. The clouds loomed darkly overhead, the atmosphere heavy with humidity. But nothing could deter me from heavy feeling of the building fear. Fear of what? The fear of success. The fear of failure. And the fear of nothing changing.

The job i had been tasked with was something someone ought to fear, but I had taken it all with numbing acceptance. After all, a job given by The League of Villains was something that I couldn't afford to fail. I was to go to Kyushu under the guise of a visiting a family member. My baby nephew had just been born, it was a almost too perfect.

They had specified they needed someone to catch the attention of the No.3 hero. It needed to be showstopping and guaranteed to make him look into it closely.

It started off when i was tasked with having a loud, and increasingly violent run in with Dabi. It had to be flashy, eyecatching enough to draw his attention. Dabi had burnt my wrists until they were charred and smoking, left screaming and sobbing on the ground. Dabi was gone before any heroes showed up, too preoccupied with putting out the burning inferno. But he had been there. He'd gotten everyone to safety with his trademark speed. The next few days in hospital were equally tedious as it was agonizing, a few police interrogations later, and as I'd been discharged... He was there, outside the hospital talking to his adoring fans. We'd made eye contact, and then I'd walked away.

A week after that, we'd staged another violent argument with Dabi. I couldn't lie, I was terrified. His sapphire eyes looked like they were looking through me. I was merely dirt under his boots. His hand was wrapped in icey blue flames, he took a step forward, about to unleash them onto me when a small blur of red rushed past me, and in a flash dabi was pinned by the sleeves of his coat, as a larger clump of red rushed past to secure him.

It was around this time that everything blurred together, my breaths coming in short, fast paced gasps for air, tears running down my face.

I don't remember what happened after that.

When I came to, I was in a hospital bed, the scratchy, uncomfortable sheets unmistakable as the faint but pungent scent of bleach invaded my nose. When I was finally able to lift one of my arms, I'd pressed the nurse button. After that, they'd ran some tests, and about half way through Hawks showed up to ask me some questions. The same 'what is your relation to the villain', 'did he say anything to you ', or 'what happened'. It was repetitive. Tedious. And exceedingly taxing on my mental health when he stared me down with grin on his face when I told him he was giving me hayfever because of his wings.

"It was fun while it lasted, I suppose" I thought sadly, as I took off my shoes and put them next to the railing, the note tucked securely underneath. My hands shook as I grabbed the metal railing and carefully heaved myself over.

6 stories up seemed so much higher from this angle. It was beautiful, but terrifying all the same. My eyes roamed around the streets I could see, the LED shop signs creating a pallet of swirling colours. It was a sudden noise behind me, whoosh of the wind as wings flapped for a sturdy landing. And I slipped, tumbling over the edge head first, facing away from figure frozen in place as he realised he was too late.

He was the fastest hero out there, he could still make it. He hoped.

"To my dear nephew, I hope you live a long life."

END

#Hawks X reader suicide #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks #bnha hawks #su!c!de #su!cidal #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #bnha headcannons #angst prompt

[jolyneswife-anime-reviews]

Peach girl anime review

Spoilers for peach girl and tw for bullying, a mention of colourism, and blackmail

Genre: Romance, drama, slice of life, high school

Where I watched it: Funimation

Characterisation: 9/10 (Peach girl has a relatively small cast, but all the characters play an important role and are well developed in both personality and backstory. There’s a wide variety of personalities, and all of these add something important to the plot. Characters are designed to be deep and complex, and this keeps the story gripping as you’re always discovering new things about them, or watching them grow. As a character, I particularly liked Momo- she’s very kind and generous, always helping others and giving people the benefit of the doubt, and doesn’t give up easily- it’s clear that she’s strong, but she’s also portrayed as vulnerable and confused as she tries to navigate her complex emotions and figure out her life. Some of her struggles when it comes to love are ones quite a few viewers will understand, and that, along with Momo’s simple wish of wanting to be happy and truly cherished by someone, make her relatable as well as likeable. Two other characters I really liked the development of were Kairi and Sae. Kairi was initially presented as the archetypal carefree player at the beginning, flirting with all the girls and having little to no personality apart from that. However, it soon becomes clear that he’s more than that- he’s a loyal friend to Momo, staying by her side when everyone else, including her own boyfriend, have seemingly stabbed her in the back. It soon becomes clear that underneath this facade, he’s a selfless and caring person who will do anything to help those he loves. His backstory adds an unexpected layer of depth to his character- despite seeming so happy, he still feels certain events in his past deeply. On the other hand, Sae is portrayed as pure evil for most of the series- she bullies Momo mercilessly, spreading lies about her, turning all her friends against her, and even going as far as blackmailing her first boyfriend, Toji,  into breaking up with her. However, at the end of the series, after experiencing love and heartbreak herself in a string of deeply distressing events, Sae opens up and starts to value Momo and those who have been nice to her, even helping them through their troubles, which would have been unthinkable at the beginning of the series. I love a redemption arc, and I’m all for people growing and changing for the better, which is why it was so great (and unexpected) to see Sae drop her old ways and become a good person.)

Setting: 8/10 (The settings are pretty typical of a high school, slice of life anime, with the school being a big one, the places where the students work in the summer, and all the hang out spots they visit in their spare time, like amusement parks. They are used effectively nonetheless, with certain places becoming meaningful in the story and mirroring past events, like the beach where Momo and Kairi first met.)

Art style: 7.5/10 (the art style is nothing out of the ordinary- it’s pretty standard for older anime, but the drawings are still pretty. Characters are well drawn and their appearances also change slightly throughout the anime, which adds a nice touch. I particularly like the way the settings are drawn - there are some beautiful sceneries. Colour pallets also generally hit the nail on the head, particularly when used in Momo’s incredible outfits.)

Plot: 8/10 (The plot is engaging and full of twists- it’s not always predictable, and you soon become invested in the emotional roller coaster, particularly when things take an unexpected turn. Tension is also used well in some episodes where big decisions have to be made. Despite some aspects of the plot being predictable, they still work very well and don’t take away from how enjoyable the anime is to watch. However, some events are dragged on for a bit, particularly towards the end.)

Comfort: 9.5/10 (This show was such a great one to kick back and relax to, especially after a long or trying day. The main reason for this is Momo as a character - most things about her, from her desire to be cherished and determined attitude, to her mistakes and the difficult patches, she made me feel somewhat seen. As well as that, her positivity and kindness really are contagious to the viewer, as well as her fighting spirit. On top of that, there are several wholesome scenes when the romance is going well, or heart warming displays of dedication when things are rough, which never failed to make me smile.)

Originality: 6.5/10 (Despite being almost flawlessly executed and combining a wealth of different occurrences so well, I don’t think Peach girl is anything too new (it might have been at the time, but definitely not now). It’s a pretty standard romantic drama, and, even though there are a few plot twists and ideas here and there which are creative or innovative, the main idea of having two guys falling in love with the same girl and a whole bunch of drama surrounding this definitely not.)

Addictiveness: 8.5/10 (This show is pretty addictive, because the characters are so well developed and the plot is dynamic and full of twists. Each episode also ends on a cliffhanger, so it’s easy to get hooked, as the engaging plot leaves you needing to know what will happen next.)

Philosophy: 7.5/10 (Despite generally being quite a light watch with few ideas that need unpicking, there are some interesting things said about love which I think are worth dedicating a few lines to. The first one is the idea that sometimes, we don’t realise how precious someone is to us until we almost lose them, which I think applies to daily life as well as the more tragic context of the anime. The second is that it’s easy to fall in love with the idea of a person you’ve created instead of actually loving them, or think you’ve fallen in love simply because you love the idea of having someone instead of the actual person, and the third is that love can often be confusing, unpredictable and uncontrollable- it’s rarely straightforward, and things often take time and pain to work out for the best. Through nuances like this, the series does a great job of capturing the complexity and essence of falling in love.)

Consistency: 8.5/10 (The quality of the episodes stayed high throughout the show, with little to no filler content. The ending dragged a little bit, but it was also full of suspense and uncertainty.)

The plot

Momo is an average high school girl - she likes shopping, swimming, and has had a crush on her childhood friend, Toji, for years. However, due to having heard from a jealous “friend” that he doesn’t like tanned girls, she thinks that he won’t reciprocate her feelings and is reluctant to ask him out at first. When she eventually does, he says yes and dismisses the rumor as a lie. It’s also discovered that Kairi, the school playboy, has taken a liking to Momo, who dismisses him at first, finding him annoying.  Meanwhile, Sae, a classmate of Momo’s, grows jealous of her popularity and charm, as well as her relationship with the two boys, and goes from being catty to her to doing whatever she can to sabotage her, spreading rumors and deliberately making Momo look bad in front of Toji before and after they start dating in the hopes of putting him off of her and having a chance with him. Toji is unsuspecting due to Sae’s very manipulative and scheming personality, so he believes what Sae says, as do all of Momo’s other classmates, which causes her to become an outcast and puts a strain on her relationship with Toji. While she goes through all this, Kairi stays firmly by her side, knowing the kind of person she really is and trying to help Momo disprove the rumors Sae spreads. Through all the drama, Momo realizes she might also have feelings for Kairi, but, at the end of a long emotional roller coaster, and after much heartache, she has to make a final decision and realise who she truly loves. 

Masterlist

#momo adachi #peach girl #peach girl toji #kairi okayasu #peach girl kairi #sae kashiwagi #ryo okayasu #romance anime #high school #slice of life #drama #nurse misao #peach girl review #peach girl anime review #anime and manga #anime review #anime recommendation #anime discussion #anime reccs #anime fandom #jolyneswifeanimereviews

[xnecromantia]

“ if i were to kiss someone, it would be you. “ (from Erik? Totally okay if you're not feeling it!)

A Hundred Kissing Prompts II Accepting

"Did you know that today marks another century of us knowing each other?" The Wytch mentioned happily, his arm linked through Erik's own as they walked alongside a riverbed. "We are older than this very river, and yet you look exactly the same as when I first met you." A laugh escaped him as he looked up at the other male; neither a wrinkle or grey hair to evidence the passage of time. His features remained soft and his eyes retained the kindness that instantly soothed a troubled soul. It was no wonder the deceased trusted him. Although his own appearance never changed with age, Mortis' heart had -- sorrow taking hold and revealing itself in the form of tired lines underneath his eyes. It was an impossible change for an immortal - to be affected in such a human way - but the events of Shademarsh had altered him.

Coming back to Erik and the sanctuary he offered had helped to mend the wounds he received from that night, alleviating the darkness and bringing light back to Mortis' soul. Patience and reassurance made it easier for the Wytch to smile each day, to laugh and engage in conversation; a gradual healing process to retrieve who he once was. And he was forever grateful for that.

"I wanted to commemorate our friendship by making you a gift." Since Shademarsh, his desire to create had disappeared -- but now he had somebody to create for. A chance to express his affection in the form of handmade jewellery. His coven often gifted pieces to those they cared about, taking months to make with how intricate they were. No two designs were the same, making them highly unique and custom to the person they were made for. Pausing in their walk, he retrieved a small pouch from the pocket of his hoodie and held it out for Erik to take. Tipped over, a silver ring fell out; a series of overlapping bands that twisted into a beautiful pattern. Between the bands, glass was set and contained a whirlwind of colourful specks. "Wait -- look," he added enthusiastically as he gently tapped the ring, which caused the specks to shimmer and dance. "I infused a bit of magic into it, so it will never dull." He explained, pausing as he allowed the other to try it on.

"I wish I could give you more, but I hope this token shows how much I appreciate you, Erik." Mortis continued, reaching out with both hands to hold one of his. Drawing it towards his own cheek and resting against it, he smiled up at the fairy. It was the same hand where the Wytch had placed a Mark of Friendship on Erik's little finger many centuries ago, mirroring the same place he had his. "Even after our time apart, it was like I never left. You gave me sanctuary without hesitation. I was hurting, but you made everything better. You mean a lot to me, cara--"

'--if I were to kiss someone, it would be you.'

The words were clear as day, spoken inside his mind. It was a moment or so before he comprehended what happened, and when he did, Mortis huffed out an amused laugh. Did he mean to share his thoughts with him? "I heard that." He squeezed Erik's hand lovingly, eyes aglow with gold. All he could do was smile, chest feeling fit to burst. Placing both hands on Erik's shoulders, the Wytch gently pulled him down until they were level. "If I were to let someone kiss me..." he started, before leaning in and pressing their lips together. It was short - sweet - but the message was there. "...it would be you."

#itokunii #v; leave behind your heartache #whispers in the woods ( prompts ) #( I love them your honour ) #( also Erik stop being so tall ) #( gotta invest in a stepladder for Mortis )

[highspeedclownery]

Moonriver

Fandom: Sherlock

Warnings: Character Death, Major Angst

Pairings: Implied Johnlock

Notes: I wrote this pre-s4 using inspo from trailers etc

Sherlock hadn't really thought about it before, but he really loathes hospitals. Despite spending hours there for his own research through the years, he cannot really stand the bright lighting, the gleaming white, sterile environment. The light really brought out everyone's worse features and he is sure he must look a state by the way Molly is looking at him. Pity, sorrow, and underlying hint of anger - all this he can see, conveyed by her eyes. His fingers quiver on their ascent to scratch at his jaw, weeks of neglecting to reach for the razor blade has left him with itchy stubble peppering his face. 

"Show me." He repeats. Even his voice sounds rough to his own ears.

Molly can see that her attempts to turn Sherlock away are futile. Not for the first time, she berates herself for not being that little bit more confident. Legally, she doesn't have to show Sherlock and she would do anything to get out of this situation, but looking at him stood there, an already defeated man clinging to his composure, what else can she do? Wordlessly, she turns to the trolley and folds back the sheet, revealing the cadaver beneath. Her eyes close, face slightly crumpling as she fights to remain professional. She expects to hear a sob, a wail and somehow that would be better than the silence and stillness that engulfs the room. Sucking in a breath, she dares to open her eyes and in that moment, she wishes that she didn't.

Contorted in horror, Sherlock's features are void of colour, eyes stricken and disbelieving. His lips part but no sound comes out. Molly cannot keep the tears at bay as she watches him lift his hands to face, covering his mouth and for a moment she thinks he might be sick. Instead he trembles, his breath finally coming out in tremulous bursts between his fingers. He's shaking his head, still no words though and Molly covers the body up again quickly.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry..."

He's backing away now, eyes moist with unshed. Doubling over as if in severe pain, a strangled sound breaks his silence. Molly is at his side in an instant. Sherlock shakes his head again and pulls himself away, blindly turning towards the exit, staggering away, deaf to Molly's pleas to wait. He leaves the hospital in a blurred frenzy, tumbling through the dark streets with no real destination in mind. The rest of the world fizzes away, leaving him with just himself and an indescribable pain.

His feet carry him to a residential area, where his pace slows as numbness takes over. His head spins and he grasps onto a lamppost for support before continuing, not stopping again until he reaches a sheltered bus stop. Here he collapses on the hard plastic bench, body pressed against the back wall. 

"Oh dear, you've got yourself into a right state now." 

Sherlock stills. That woman's voice sounds oddly familiar...

"When was the last time you had a shave?"

Familiar or not, Sherlock is not in the mood for conversation of any kind. "Go away."

The voice sighs. "Oh pishposh, there'll be plenty of time to go away later. At least let me see your face."

An irritated knot forms between Sherlock's brows as he turns to glare at the woman. "Who exactly are you?" He snaps and then to his surprise, she simply laughs, smiling fondly at him. 

Cold ice prickles underneath his skin at that sound. He knows that sound very well. He gazes back at the woman and this time, really looks. Age, possibly late thirties - early forties. Long hair, red dress, crutch, glasses... he squints a little harder and she helps by removing her glasses. His breath catches in his throat. 

No. This isn't.. Did he fall and hit his head?

"Sherlock," she scolds playfully. "I thought you're supposed to be clever."

"M-Mrs Hudson?" Those were definitely her eyes but, how? Is he hallucinating? Did he fall and hit his head?

"Yes dear. Although, I was just Martha back when I was this spring chicken you see before you. Not bad, hey?" She smiles and it's even more clear that this is his landlady. No one can replicate that smile. It doesn't stop his nerves from being shaken however. He had just seen the real Mrs Hudson at the hospital, lifeless and certainly not smiling. He slides away slightly on the seat. "You're dead."

Martha pulls a face at that. "I suppose I am. It happens to the best of us, there isn't any avoiding it. Anyway, I brought us some chips because I don't care about ruining my figure and you look like you're wasting away." Reaching into her bag, Martha brings out two trays of chips, handing one to Sherlock who hasn't stopped staring. "Come on, eat."

The tray of food is warm in his lap and he finally drags his gaze away his young landlady to unwrap his chips. He eats robotically and from the way his stomach churns, he concedes that maybe it's high time he did eat. He can feel Mrs Hudson's eyes on him, feel the warmth of her pleased smile and he manages a small, nervous smile in return. I am truly losing my mind, he thinks to himself. This is not a situation he would ever imagine himself being in and the whole evening, right from hearing the tragic news of Mrs Hudsons death, has been surreal. A living nightmare.

"I used to live around here." Martha gestures to the dimly lit houses. "I never did spend too much time at home mind. I liked to go out and experience life. I've been around the block a few times. I was a really catch in my twenties did you know?" She laughs and points to her crutch. "Of course I wasn't so much hip-hop as hip-op." Sherlock grimaces at the terrible pun which makes her laugh more. "..and you know all about my husbands."

"And your girlfriend." Sherlock adds with a conspiratorial arch of the brow.

"Ah yes, good old Mags. She had seven cats - lovely little things but shed everywhere. We had our first date not far from here, come on I'll show you." Martha is already up before Sherlock can protest and so he follows, falling into step beside her, both still picking at their chips. Their walk takes them to a pedestrian bridge that stretches across the Thames, light conversation of days gone by filling the otherwise quiet. Martha does most of the talking, Sherlock simply listening, still feeling numb and disconnected from himself. She tells him of her youthful escapades, her ups and downs, the faces she has met and the places she has been. It is with some regret, that Sherlock realises he didn't know Mrs Hudson as well as he should have.

After discarding their empty trays into a bin, Martha loops her arm through Sherlock's and leans into him slightly. He finds he doesn't mind. It makes him feel a grounded while the world wants to throw him off his feet. After walking a little further in companionable silence, Sherlock finds his voice. "Why are you here?"

Martha stops and turns to him, her eyes shine with fondness but there's a lingering sadness there too. "Because you're lonely, Sherlock. You're unhappy."

"I'm fine." It's an automatic response, something he's well versed in saying. He looks off, away into the distance. 

"I only wish that were the truth but it's clear to everyone that cares about you that you're not. Far from it. You haven't been for a while, have you?"

"Why are you doing this?" The distress strains his voice and he looks at her pleadingly.

"Sherlock, I don't want you to give up. Don't give up on him. He makes you happy, you come alive when he's around. Everything's a big old mess, I know, but don't do this to yourself."

Beside her, Sherlock bristles slightly, shoulders pulling rigid. 

"I've seen the way you look at him, like he's the most precious thing in the world. I notice -"

"But he chose her!" Sherlock had meant to sound angry but his words falter as his voice cracks. A sharp exhale follows and he's turning his back, blinking away tears. "He chose her and she's going to hurt him. I don't know how, I don't know when but its coming and I don't know if I can watch him break again." 

"Now listen here Sherlock Holmes." Martha rounds on him, a sternness that reminds him of his own mother in her eyes. "I have put up with a lot over the years but I cannot watch you hurt yourself like this. That Mary or whatever her real name is, when she hurts John, when he 'breaks' you're going to be there. You're going to take John and put him back together again. That's what you do for people you love."

"What if I can't?"

"Love always finds a way, Sherlock. It may take time, these things always do but in the end, it's always you two isn't it? John is worth that isn't he?" 

Sherlock nods. He had already worked out many moons ago that he would lay down and die for John Watson. The man had walked into his life and turned it upside down and inside out. He took a real, unguarded interest in Sherlock's life instead of sneering and calling him a freak. John Watson is extraordinary and holds Sherlock's fascination more than any bacterial growth on a slide ever could. Before John, there was nothing but a sea of faces and a suffocating need for something more to fill the ever-present void. Life was bleak, he was alone. John saved him, in many ways and life without him is.. unthinkable. 

"He might not want.. it might be too much." There have been times when Sherlock has seen glimpse of returned affection from John but nothing solid enough to ease his mind and any hope of something more between them was crushed with the arrival of Mary. 

"If you keep running away and keeping him in the dark, I agree with you dear." Martha says bluntly. "You've been keeping him at a distance and he doesn't understand why. He's upset, Sherlock. He's been wondering if you're using again, he's worried. Forget about Mary, cross that road when you get to it, just talk to him. Let him know you're still here."

Sherlock turns to rest his arms on the railings and looks down at the dark waters below. It looks oddly inviting. He swallows. "It's not just Mary though. There's the baby as well."

"Not John's."

A moment of stunned silence. "How?"

"A woman knows, Sherlock."

"...that will kill him." The revelation sends a trickle of fear down his spine and just as quickly, a flare of anger has him gripping the rails so hard his knuckles turn white. "How could she do this to him? Is it not enough that -" He swallows thickly again. "How did I not know? And John? He's a doctor!" 

Martha's hand covers his own and she squeezes gently. "These things happen and that is why John needs you and you're going to be there for him." 

Blinking, Sherlock sags, suddenly feeling exhausted and drained. For the next few minutes the pair remain resting against the rails, looking out across the Thames. The future had always been uncertain for Sherlock but back in the old days, he only had himself to account for and honestly, he saw no future for himself. The thought of sending himself to sleep and never waking up had invaded his mind many a lonely night and it would have been a likely outcome had Mike not walked in with John that fateful day. Fate isn't something Sherlock would normally consider since it didn't follow any rules and defied logic. There was no science behind it and yet somehow, it's comforting to think some higher power may have intervened in his downward spiral. Maybe it is fate that Mrs Hudson is here with him now while her body lies cold on a sterile trolley. 

Allowing his eyes to close, Sherlock basks in peace that her presence brings, no matter how fleeting it may be, he wants to cherish this. The distant city sounds are muted enough for him to appreciate the gentle lapping of water and the whisper of a breeze. Then another sound drifts to his ears and lifting his head, he realises it's not his imagination. He can hear music. Violin and piano. He knows the melody well. Moonriver. The music is hauntingly beautiful and tears once again fill the rims of his eyes. This is one of the songs he learned especially for Mrs Hudson for her birthday.

She taps his arm.

"I have to go soon dear but before I do, dance with me?" She looks at him, a bright smile on her face despite the wetness of her eyes. How can he deny her?

Sniffing, he takes her hand and guides her away from the railings. With one hand resting on her waist he waits for her to mirror him and then they begin. It's as easy as breathing. They float gracefully, their movements fluid and practiced. The music carries them and for the first time in a long while, Sherlock feels lighter. He smile through the tears that track down his cheeks, treasures Mrs Hudsons laughs as he swoops and dips her. It's a wonderful, liberating feeling. 

Time is lost as they dance, the notes of moon river seeming to go on forever. Sherlock doesn't want it to end, dancing is a passion he rarely gets to enjoy. The last time he danced.. was teaching John. His smile wavers.

"Sherlock. You know I have to go, don't you?"

Wait. No. Not yet! He wants to plead and that heavy feeling returns with full force, stealing his breath and squeezing his heart.

"Don't look at me like that. You know I don't like to see you upset." The music fades and their dance comes to halt. Martha cups his face and wipes at his tears. "Do you know, I always wanted children. It was always one of my biggest regrets but you Sherlock, I always saw you like a son. I love you like you were my own flesh and blood. My handsome, clever boy." She presses a kiss to his cheek as a small sob escapes him.

"I want you to know that you are loved by more people than you think. I want you to look after yourself, talk to John. Don't give up on him, never give up. You both deserve happiness and I know it's not out of reach. Go easy on that brother of yours too. I don't agree with everything he does but I know underneath all that ice, he cares for you. Promise me Sherlock."

"...I'm so scared." He admits, sobbing and shuddering, his throat tight and chest heavy.

"I know darling, but it's going to alright. It really is. You just need to let go, alright?"

"I'm going to miss you so much."

"I'm going to miss you too. John as well but you know I'm always going to be here." She places her palm against his chest where his heart is somehow still beating. Then her arms are circling him and embraces her back, eyes squeezing tightly shut.

When he opens them again, he is alone.

A pain rips through him, hot and sharp and doubles over, a scream tearing from his throat as he clutches his chest. His knees buckle and he sinks to the floor, the world crashing down around him.

He doesn't know how much time has passed when his phone trills in his pocket. A call. It takes a moment for his eyes to focus on the screen.

John.

Habit tells him to ignore it, like he has many times before but Mrs Hudson's face flickers in his mind and he steels himself to accept the call. He promised her. He's going to do this. He presses the green button.

"Sherlock? Oh thank god. Thank god. I've just had word of Lestrade. I can't believe - where are you?.. Sherlock?"

"I'm coming home."

#sherlock #bbc sherlock #johnlock #my writing

[abelle25125]

Id love to hear your collector theory!

ok there might be a few holes in this because i haven't re-watched all the episodes about the collector recently - but my main theory is that the collector was an entity around at the same time as the titans, who either worked with them or with someone associated with them - and at some point there was a conflict that resulted in the Boiling isles titan sacrificing themselves to keep them trapped.

(evidence and ramblings under the cut)

first things first:

Who / what is the collector?

Based on KKKOHD we can assume theyre not a witch, given both his appearance (there are no other witches that tall) and also the appearance of his magic, which is black unlike the glowing coloured version we see used by most people and also seems to be,,,,,made up of them?

I cant show it in just screenshots but the shadow of the net stretches back and the collector seemingly comes from it

They also seem to have a serious sun and moon motif, and the moon on the Boiling Isles literally has a face on it - and is shown to have magical properties (thinking back to the moonlight conjuring that can bring life to inanimate objects?)

I'm thinking that the collector is some sort of moon elemental or spirit of some sort - an ancient magic thats different from that of witches that has been around for a long long time.

next up:

Whats his motivation?

In Hollow mind he mentions being betrayed and wanting revenge on someone

"Betrayed, beguiled, alone, deceived! We'll have our revenge on... Ugh, "unity" is so hard to rhyme."

Given the fact that it does rhyme and they don't use it - i'm going to assume they don't want revenge on humanity, especially since that motivation dramatically differs from what belos wants.

So they want revenge on someone! who is it? im guessing the titans, and maybe by extension - the witches that live on it.

They know about the draining spell and don't seem to have much of a problem with killing off all witches

And based on the scraped concept for the vision in hunting palisman we can assume the Day of Unity is going to awaken the titan in some way - presumably killing off all the remaining witches who weren't in a coven for the draining spell.

Why does the collector want to wake the titan? i think its because they're trapped underneath it.

We've gotten a good look at where the collector is trapped - a blue ball shaped prison in the space between worlds.

the closest thing we've seen to that ball is Kings temple

which bares a resemblance to the door to the round boy in Elsewhere and elsewhen

So, we have someone stuck in a prison made up of titan technology trapped in a place you can only get to with Titan's blood, underneath the body of a dead titan. i really feel like the titan either died trying to capture the collector and their blood pooling into the ocean trapped him in the space between - or someone with access to titan stuff found a dying titan and chose to stick their captured moon spirit in there.

So what now?

The collector, now trapped in the space between swears vengeance on those who trapped him and does the only thing it can do from their prison. Watches people through the cubes, gathers information and manipulates people who can see them. He does this with the titan trappers - which results in them killing off all the remaining titans and then he does this with Belos, another lost child with abandonment issues and a distaste towards life on the boiling isles. He teaches him about the draining spell, a way to source power into a spell for when the moon covers the sun and the tide is lowest - thousands of witches pouring their power into one huge moonlight conjuring. Reanimating the Titan

The theory gets a little bit muddy after this point, mostly because i have no clue as to how the day of unity is going to go, like,,,,all balls are in the air right now

ive seen some people talking about how Belos wants to wipe out all magic - and the collector is magic, so if they are freed there will probably be some back stabbing - but i dont think the collectors going to replace Belos as the big bad in Season 3. It would be really unsatisfying from a storytelling standpoint - it would take away the colonial and real life counterparts from Belos and replace them with a magical clown child who if they where a person would be obsessed with collecting pokemon cards, and that would just feel bad thematically. It would be a lot more fun if there are these two antagonists trying to manipulate each other into doing what the other wants.

if you look at it from various sides the collector doesnt really seem all too evil. They have the mentality of a child who's been around for thousands of years and can trap living things in paper, of course they're not going to have any regard for human (or witch?) life, its the equivalent of a kid stepping on ants or chasing birds to scare them away. It would make a good extreme parallel to Luz - who literally ran away to the Demon Realm to escape her personal prison and who at the start of the show, was also very curious but naive.

there are obviously some holes in this theory - with the largest one being the timeline. The only time we see the collector not trapped in the space between is in KKKOHD - which not only had a lot of dream spookiness going on, but also looks pretty much the same from when we see the same location in Edge of the world

(there also where already a bunch of dead titans in the KKKOHD flashback so who knows how they died.)

The validity of this theory is completely dependant on the owl beasts scroll having had to float around the ocean for literally thousands of years before being picked up (which could honestly explain why there are no other owl beasts but idk) and there's honestly just so much we dont know about the collector, its fairly hard to speculate anything concrete

so yeah! thats what ive been thinking. i hope i explained it alright, but there are definitely some holes here and there.

#This got so dramatic at one point i am not immune to monologues #if anyone else has any ideas feel free to share them becuase this is really interesting #the owl house spoilers #toh #the owl house #the collector #the owl house theory #ask #anon

[curiousaboutcreativity]

The thing about creativity and art to me

Up until earlier this year I had been writing my fiction novel. It was many, many years in the making and in the final year of it, I was able to focus on it so much, putting other things aside, finding satisfaction in it every single day and having many people admire my conviction to really go through with it.

Well, I finished it. I mean, as much as I could finish it. I finished it as much as I could before I let outside forces in on it: feedback, revision, consideration, plans, time passing. At this point I'm not sure that I'll ever be done with it.

The thing that was done though, was focus.

I couldn't focus on completing my story anymore - that was done. And then I struggled to focus on walking the path towards publication. Among the many reasons for that included my never being super sure that writing a book was actually my thing. I wrote "a book" because I needed to write this story that lived in my head for 1-2 decades. But I never felt certain, that a book was the way to express my voice.

And then I hired an editor who confirmed that notion, which was good, in one sense. They were direct and honest. And it made me face reality. I still see a lot of truth in what they said.

But what they also did was to shatter my little bit of self esteem and hope that I had for the story and my skills. While trying to keep a friendly tone, they conveyed that I must have never heard of "show, don't tell" and that I should start attending some workshops since apparently I hadn't understood anything about writing. My story isn't publishable and even if I rewrote the whole thing for a few more years, there may be no hope whatsoever that I could ever publish it. The reason I wasn't able to write an exposé isn't because I struggled with conveying my story clearly, it was because my story wasn't clear to begin with. It might be enough to give it to a few friends and family who appreciate it.

It was a very hopeless, defeating conversation and it made me feel stupid and naive. I do accept and appreciate the truth in those words, but there was a cruelty underneath that said "You don't know how it's supposed to be done. How dare you" - at least that's what I perceived.

And then in the following days and weeks and months I started to go within. To explore what I want and what my voice is. I shouldn't focus solely on facing my creativity outward but I can't help but want to put something out into the world after all these years of only having worked creatively for others.

But creativity really - that's what I'm coming to understand more than ever now - for me is a way to exist mindfully in this world. The joy comes from being present with the thing that was or is being created. I didn't think I would ever say this, but I found a profound sense of fascination, awe and inspiration in taking photos of flowers. It's become a meditation for me.

My macro lens truly is teaching me a thing or two about focus. About looking closely. About discovering more of what's already there. The camera has become a meditation tool for me and is showing me that for me creativity is mindfulness. Mindfulness is creativity. I don't need to achieve. Observing, often, is enough.

Depending on where the focus goes, completely new images can arise, new details come to light, literally. New sets of colours and textures. And then the next day, it can all be gone, wilted or a new flower may have blossomed that was only a green speck the day before.

It's all transient.

So, my mind has been scattered as fuck. I have a thousand ideas and I feel like I'm not getting anywhere with anything, as if I was stuck. And that's frustrating, to say the least.

But now, my mission for this season is to focus. Focus on the joy of mindful creativity. I have a new project for my story and I want to see if my voice comes through with this one. It's not going to be a book. I'm leaving the book behind. But as a wild creative multimedia scholar, freelancer and low key artist, I decided I'm going to not give a crap about how things are supposed to be done. I don't want to put my voice into a pre-arranged box that it can't fit into anyway. I'm exploring my own creative expression and I'm trying my darndest to stick with it and to leave the doubts by the wayside.

If any of this resonates with you, I would love to hear from you, your project and your experience. Let's fuel creativity.

#Mindfulness #creativity #art #macro photography #photography #meditation

[mywildcreativeself]

The thing about creativity and art to me

Up until earlier this year I had been writing my fiction novel. It was many, many years in the making and in the final year of it, I was able to focus on it so much, putting other things aside, finding satisfaction in it every single day and having many people admire my conviction to really go through with it.

Well, I finished it. I mean, as much as I could finish it. I finished it as much as I could before I let outside forces in on it: feedback, revision, consideration, plans, time passing. At this point I'm not sure that I'll ever be done with it.

The thing that was done though, was focus.

I couldn't focus on completing my story anymore - that was done. And then I struggled to focus on walking the path towards publication. Among the many reasons for that included my never being super sure that writing a book was actually my thing. I wrote "a book" because I needed to write this story that lived in my head for 1-2 decades. But I never felt certain, that a book was the way to express my voice.

And then I hired an editor who confirmed that notion, which was good, in one sense. They were direct and honest. And it made me face reality. I still see a lot of truth in what they said.

But what they also did was to shatter my little bit of self esteem and hope that I had for the story and my skills. While trying to keep a friendly tone, they conveyed that I must have never heard of "show, don't tell" and that I should start attending some workshops since apparently I hadn't understood anything about writing. My story isn't publishable and even if I rewrote the whole thing for a few more years, there may be no hope whatsoever that I could ever publish it. The reason I wasn't able to write an exposé isn't because I struggled with conveying my story clearly, it was because my story wasn't clear to begin with. It might be enough to give it to a few friends and family who appreciate it.

It was a very hopeless, defeating conversation and it made me feel stupid and naive. I do accept and appreciate the truth in those words, but there was a cruelty underneath that said "You don't know how it's supposed to be done. How dare you" - at least that's what I perceived.

And then in the following days and weeks and months I started to go within. To explore what I want and what my voice is. I shouldn't focus solely on facing my creativity outward but I can't help but want to put something out into the world after all these years of only having worked creatively for others.

But creativity really - that's what I'm coming to understand more than ever now - for me is a way to exist mindfully in this world. The joy comes from being present with the thing that was or is being created. I didn't think I would ever say this, but I found a profound sense of fascination, awe and inspiration in taking photos of flowers. It's become a meditation for me.

My macro lens truly is teaching me a thing or two about focus. About looking closely. About discovering more of what's already there. The camera has become a meditation tool for me and is showing me that for me creativity is mindfulness. Mindfulness is creativity. I don't need to achieve. Observing, often, is enough.

Depending on where the focus goes, completely new images can arise, new details come to light, literally. New sets of colours and textures. And then the next day, it can all be gone, wilted or a new flower may have blossomed that was only a green speck the day before.

It's all transient.

So, my mind has been scattered as fuck. I have a thousand ideas and I feel like I'm not getting anywhere with anything, as if I was stuck. And that's frustrating, to say the least.

But now, my mission for this season is to focus. Focus on the joy of mindful creativity. I have a new project for my story and I want to see if my voice comes through with this one. It's not going to be a book. I'm leaving the book behind. But as a wild creative multimedia scholar, freelancer and low key artist, I decided I'm going to not give a crap about how things are supposed to be done. I don't want to put my voice into a pre-arranged box that it can't fit into anyway. I'm exploring my own creative expression and I'm trying my darndest to stick with it and to leave the doubts by the wayside.

If any of this resonates with you, I would love to hear from you, your project and your experience. Let's fuel creativity.

#Mindfulness #creativity #art #macro photography #photography #meditation

[lilygreyham]

Fundamentals 1: Week 6

29th March

In this week's class we learnt about compositing by using Photoshop and Illustrator together. We were given this photo seen below of a man jumping in a karate action position. Our goal here was to use our skills and selection tools to create a mask and cut the man out of the photo.

Already I could tell that this was going to be difficult from looking at his hair. But we started just by getting a basic selection around him to create the mask and then we can erase/ blur out necessary parts later.

I decided to use the magnetic lasso tool as I thought it was quite handy for getting around awkward edges. It was definitely a slower process than others but it is definitely more accurate which saves me time in erasing parts that I don't want. As you can see above I managed to get quite a neat and tidy selection around most of the body. The hair was a bit of a messy selection but we'll fix that up once we've created the mask.

I created the mask and got rid of the background and added a layer of dark blue (or purple apparently once I put it up on Tumblr) to help me see what parts in the outline I needed to erase or blur out so that I could get a clean finish and it would help me create a realistic end result. The image above is what the mask looked like once I had finished erasing all of the excess light and colour around the mask. I was pretty happy with this as we moved on to the next task. Toby asked us to open up Illustrator and create a thick squiggle line vaguely following the one that he drew himself. Here's what mine looked like:

We saved this as a normal file on Illustrator onto our desktop. We then opened it up on Photoshop by choosing the option "Place Linked" from the file menu. Through that we placed the squiggle onto the file with the mask of the jumping man. Toby then showed us that through the linked image, if we made any changes to the file on Illustrator it would then update and change the file shown on Photoshop. Here is where it got a little bit tricky as Toby explained that we would make the squiggle appear to be wrapping around the man.

What we did was create a copy of the squiggle layer and make sure that the order of layers had a squiggle layer underneath the jumping man mask and a copy of the squiggle layer on top. We then used the lasso tool to select the area of the squiggle that was covering the middle of the man's body and turned that into a mask. You can see in the image below how the layers are set up and even how the mask of the top squiggle layer is cut so that only that part of the squiggle is covering the man's body. (I actually thought this was a really cool edit to do). After that I got rid of the coloured background and was left with this man and some squiggles.

Next, Toby asked us to find an image that we could then place this on to. I decided to go with a sandy beach photo as it seemed like a legitimate place that a man would be jumping (not sure if that actually matters). After using the image I realised that the lighting on the man and the lighting in the beach photo didn't quite match up but at the end of a long day I was pretty happy with how it looked.

I really enjoyed this class as I learnt how to make quite a fun photo edit by using both Photoshop and Illustrator, and learning about how those two softwares can work together with interchangeable files. It also started to give me more confidence in my photoshopping abilities when it comes to cutting out an image and making it look tidy so that I could place it into another photo where it would look realistic as if it belonged there. I'm really enjoying learning some more advanced techniques and I feel like I have come a long way from the beginning of this Fundamentals class where I didn't even know how to get around Photoshop or Illustrator. I'm happy with the progress I have made over these six classes so far and I'm excited to see what we do next!

[hortascountrysidenotes]

Roses

It’s that time of year again - June - the season of the Rose.  Love them or hate them they are an integral part of our history - our national flower, the War of the Roses, many bearing names of famous people and of course foundation to some of the best scents in the world.

I have a love hate relationship with them and for a time in my early years of garden design and planting plans, actually rather avoided them, based on some poor experiences in my own garden such as those that got such bad black spot as to be removed and burned!  However clever breeding is now producing some wonderful plants that are virtually disease free which is a great help to those of us now reluctant to use any form of chemical controls.

There are certain groups of roses that are most gratifying - such as the Rugosas, for not only are they completely disease free, they are also repeat flowerers and then give another wonderful show in the autumn with gloriously coloured foliage plus in many cases a good display of huge hips which the birds relish.

I love my roses at the moment - the first flowers are opening, the buds peeking little bits of colour and by and large looking healthy.  Three weeks ago I hated my roses, they were all suffering with distorted leaves from the wretched rolling leaf sawfly - it doesnt damage the flowers or the plant but it makes the foliage unsightly - note to self, I must remember to spray them all with soft soap in late April next year.  

I love my roses in another ten days when they are in full bloom the only likely disappointment occurring if we get heavy rain - then I hate my roses for being so susceptible to looking sad, mouldy and collapsed.  We had heavy rain last night and more forecast tomorrow but luckily 90% of the buds are still closed and we are getting enough dry weather today (unlike we were forecast) for them to dry off before the next deluge.

I love my roses for their varied scents - the lemony notes in Sweet Juliet, my favourite David Austin rose, the real heady rose scent of President de Seze - rating the highest in the Peter Beales catalogue of scent, the delicate light smell of Maigold which wafts in through our bathroom window from early May, and the intoxicating smell of Roseraie de l’Hay - the strongest smelling of the rugosas along with Hansa.

I hate my Felicite e Perpetue in late autumn early winter when I know that yet again I must precariously deal with some awkward pruning over the rose arch and I hate all of them when I am deadheading something like Geranium phaeum underneath and they have the cheek to snag the back of my head.

But overall I love them all and still find myself planting new ones, taking out ones that just dont perform, and feeling disgruntled when I see the fat new shoots of Macmillan Nurse eaten to the bone by a roe deer in late April. 

Only rose I would still love to own if I had the right space - a banksia for the sheer joy of that explosion of soft yellow in April/May and the constant link to some of those wonderful Italian gardens where you see it literally dripping from walls or running through a tree with a wisteria.

Photos of several in the garden at the moment

#Roses

[slashersimpwrites]

𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 // 𝙝𝙪𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙪 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

human!security breach cast x gn!reader

headcannons for the looks and jobs of them + headcannons for how they would be in a relationship!

tw: swearing, slight nsfw mentioned with burntrap and bonnie

/ glamrock freddy /

would definitely have a dad bod, with quite a bit of muscle hidden underneath

100% a poc, you cannot argue with me on this

honestly, he would dress however he wanted, he does not lock himself down to one certain style

tends to dress just slightly more masculine than feminine though

likes to wear face paint, or at the very least, eyeliner

dyes his hair often and it is very fluffy

the softest and kindest brown eyes ever, he does always look tired though

the prime example of a smart dumbass

founder and creator of his band, the glamrocks

constantly makes dad jokes

one of the sweetest people to exist

freddy with a s/o;

a gentle lover hands down

gives THE best hugs

LOVES to cuddle with his lover, does not care whether he is the little or big spoon

treats you like royalty: always checking on you, pampering you, making sure you know that he loves you

probably one of the healthiest relationships out of this list, along with sun

is also your best friend, that's just how great of a person he is

tries his hardest to make you laugh, especially when you are feeling down. he doesn't like seeing you sad :(

will drop anything and everything when you need him

does not get jealous of you when you hang out with other people, he knows you love him

would be the type of person to drive across the country just to give you a lil kiss kiss

all around, he is the sweetest person and would give you the world <3

/ glamrock bonnie /

i like the theory of bonnie being the aggressive one towards monty and that's why he got decommissioned, or just something along those lines

this kinda creates the basis for my personality for him

i see him as being one of the more aggressive ones out of them all

like he would take it upon himself to personally fight or call out anyone who was being an asshole at their shows

'oh you wanna put your hands where they shouldn't be? well get up here buddy and i'll show what i do to people like that.' stuff like that, y'aknow?

he was the bassist for the glamrocks until he left cause it didn't feel quite right and he wanted to go off and find himself

probably has super fluffy hair dyed purple

wears makeup, is not afraid to be in touch with his feminine side

dresses very punk, but like, bright colour/neon punk

smartass

bonnie with a s/o;

he can be a bit possessive, but it's not to a scary extent

like he'll let someone know your his if he notices them flirting with you (whether or not you look comfortable) through hands on you, a deathly stare, stuff like that

likes to go off and just do random things with you, like exploring and abandoned place, learning a random new thing, etc

he's an adrenaline junky

he is a bit more kinky than the others, mans has a big breeding kink no matter what's in your pants (he's a rabbit what do you expect)

he does try his best to take good care of you though, dw

he tries his best not to lash out and hurt you, and if he does, he will be apologizing for days and doing literally everything in his power to make it up to you

loves when you play with his hair, and loves playing with your hair

/ glamrock foxy /

drag queen? drag queen

used to do shows at harmonizing paradise's little drag area attached to the nightclub until they shut it down

now he's a backup keyboardist for the glamrocks

wasn't enough people there to cover the costs and bla bla bla

i see him as being quite a bit like julian from the arcana, with like the eyepatch and the fluffy slightly long red hair

though i see him as having more orange hair with blue streaks in it

he likes to dress a little bit on the 'elegantly medieval' side

has a pirate hyperfixation

cannot stress this ebough, THE KING OF DUMBASSERY

foxy with a s/o;

can be a little possessive like bonnie, but is more obsessive than anything

not yandere level though, dw

you'll be acting as an authority figure in this relationship, this man is a fckn mess, like i said, king of dumbassery

a very "messy" lover

like, he don't clean that much, showers just enough, very forgetful, etc

it's cute though, so you don't mind

completely melts around you, no doubt about it

likes quality time more than anything, he's fine with whatever, as long as he's with you

though he adores cuddling sessions

and likes movie dates at home where you kake fun if the characters

he's just a sweet chaotic boi

/ montgomery gator /

monty is 1000% a poc and i take no criticism, he is the king of rock and roll and black people invented it, so it's only fitting

he would have a floridian accent, or at the very least, a southern one

he would obviously have the iconic mohawk, but he would have amber eyes

he would dress pretty alternative

he would wear his iconic glasses, purple fingerless gloves, purple combat boots, and all his spiked jewelry

would have his fingernails painted black, they would have some chips

he would probably wear motorcycle pants, tripp pants, or a mixture of both with tank tops and cropped jackets

though we all know this man would try to be shirtless as much as possible

lots of freckles + faint scars

he would be the bassist for the glamrocks, but he became a new addition since bonnie left to find himself

he fit in very quickly though, some people grew to love him and some were resentful

definitely the most flirtatious and open of all them tho

monty with a s/o:

he was the one to come up to you and make the first move, we all know he wouldn't be the type of person to "keep it in his pants"

would prefer to take you on more simple dates like concerts, movies, amusement parks, etc. though, every so often he'll plan a weekend-long outing for you guys

he's tries his best to act all tough and bad-boy-ish around you, but a simple lil kiss on makes him melt

please give him forehead kisses!! he loves them!!

will not admit it, but he loves being the little spoon

this man just wants someone to love him and tell him he's perfect and more than a replacement :(

more than anything his love language would probably be words of affirmation, so be ready to get told how perfect you are <3

he would also definitely want to show you off because he's so proud of you and you mean so much to him <3

/ dj music man /

i also see djmm being poc, got no reason for this one other than vibes

he would wear sunglasses 24/7, but underneath probably has really pretty brown eyes

pretty flamboyant and likes to wear bright striking makeup and bright clothing

basically fits in with the rave scene real easily

wears very bright and very shiny clothing while working, probably an obnoxiously shiny suit (minus the jacket)

off of work he wears more comfortable stuff like a simple tank top or hoodie with some tattered jeans

would definitely have some facial piercings, probably a tattoo or a few hidden somewhere

despite his flamboyant dj persona, he's a pretty quiet person, preferring to drown the world out with music

main headlining dj for the harmonizing paradise nightclub (which just happens to be the main hangout spot for the glamrocks)

was one of the founders of said nightclub

djmm with a s/o:

alright, first thing's first: this man would be incredibly difficult to bag

i see him as being someone who is oblivious to romantic advances, so at first he just thinks you're being nice to be friends with him, but realizes when you just outright tell him you think he's hot

very wary in the beginning, worrying about if he'd just end up hurting you, but after telling him a few times about how much you trust and cherish him, he'll become more confident

his love language would be acts of service or gift giving, so expect errands to be randomly done, little gifts left for you, songs written for you, etc

he just wants you to know that he loves you, even if he can't be there all the time

expect lots nd lots of cuddles when he gets home from work, he really misses you and loves being in your presence

adores being the little spoon

will give you hugs nd kisses in public, he's not ashamed to let people know how much he loves you <3

/ sundrop /

this man would literally be the sweetest fucking person ever, you would get a toothache just from being in his presence

he would have short & messy natural blonde hair, maybe with a little bit of orange from sun exposure

he would have sun-kissed skin with a few faint freckles and very pale blue eyes that would look white from far away

he would probably have some acne scarring along his forehead and chin

he has the brightest smile, literally radiates sunshine

would prefer to wear softer and brighter colours

his clothing style would fall under yellow academia x softcore

would wear a few rings, no necklaces, and bracelets from the kids

would work in a daycare with moon, like they would work in the same room together

the two are definitely besties

the kids probably prefer sunny over moon and he feels bad about it, moon deserves love too!

was nicknamed 'mr. sunshine' by the children because of how bright his personality and clothing are

sunny with a s/o:

he would be such a sweet and caring partner

would always be checking up on you, either in person or over text, to make sure you're okay

sometimes it can be suffocating, but you know he means well <3

his love language would be physical touch, so expect lots nd lots of cuddling, hand holding, etc

would be very awkward in public and only exhibit a little pda; soft touches here, hand holding there, sitting close to you, etc

was definitely the one to make the first move, this man has a hard time holding things in (though you almost did it first)

his favourite things to do with you are watching movies, crafts, and exploring

he is definitely a chaotic dumbass please watch him

/ moondrop /

i feel like moon would also have skin like sunny, cause of the mask and how white the real moon is

he tends to look stern more often than not, but it's not cause he's mad! he just has a resting mad face :(

^ it's part of the reason the children are more scared of him than they are of sun

he would have heterochromia, his left eye being brown and his right eye being blue

like sun, he also has a bit of acne scarring around the edges of his face

he would keep his hair a little long, sharp, and styled. this plus his pretty pale complexion would kind make him look like a vampire :>

he is a very neat and tidy person

he would wear comfier clothing than sun, but it somehow ends up looking more formal

he'd do the whole sweater/sweater vest over button-up thing with some jeans and dress shoes

would wear tons of accessories, necklaces? yes. rings? yes. bracelets? absolutely!

he seems like someone that would need glasses idk

he works in the daycare with sun

the children nicknamed him 'mr. moonrise' cause he's the one in charge of nap time

moon with a s/o;

he would be a quiet but passionate lover

he wouldn't like pda, especially in front of the children, but he would be all over you when you guys were alone

he loves telling you how great you are and how much you light up his world

he kind of has ups and downs when it comes to his passion though, sometimes he's cold and distant at home too

it would just be because he's overwhelmed though, and he wouldn't want to get triggered by something small and lash out at you

be sure to stay away for the time being and just vibe with him, maybe read to him. he'll calm down within no time <3

in the case you do get on his nerves during this time, he van become a bit obsessive and possessive

he would be one to worry over your sleep, making sure you go to bed at a reasonable time, getting enough sleep, not sleeping in a way that is harmful to you, etc

speaking of which! if you ever show signs of insomnia or sleep apnea he will do as much as he can to help you! he would love to read you some stories and sing you some lullabies <3

please give him jawline kisses!!

/ burntrap /

this man is the coldest mother fucker to ever exist

now don't get me wrong, i am extremely down bad for him, but he can be a real asshole sometimes

he loves causing chaos, especially if it involves pranking his s/o or turning the glamrocks against eachother

in this au he is in his mid-late 30s, he is not a peepaw here

he would have lots nd lots of scars all over his body

shaggy and very messy dirty blond hair

white eyes that seem to have a purple hue in the sunlight

probably one of those bitches who wears the same thing every day. is it clean? does he only own the one outfit? when did he last shower? who knows.

probably wears a casually formal style -> loose button-ups, heavy boots, patterned trousers with some tattering, loose ties, loose vests, a few rings

works as security personnel for the glamrocks; sometimes they hate him, but he is the best they've had and keeps them quite safe

very reserved about his personal life

obviously has the iconic william accent, a little more gravelly though

burntrap with a s/o;

loves loves loves pranking you

his relationship with you would be much more sexual in nature than it would be with any of the other guys

gets very jealous when other guys, and sometimes even girls, look at you

makes sure to let everyone know you guys are together, be it a display on your neck, jewlery, or just him always being at his side

will sometimes sneak you in to shows to either have fun, or so you can see the glamrocks for free (score!)

can be very sweet at times of course, but it's only ever when you are alone with him, he has a façade to keep up

loves holding you and hugging you from behind

adores when you give his scars light kisses

overall, he can be a gentle lover, but he would rather have people not know that

#security breach fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf headcanons #glamrock freddy #glamrock bonnie #montgomery gator #fnaf sundrop #fnaf moondrop #burntrap #dj music man #human au #x reader #sb x reader #glamrock freddy x reader #glamrock bonnie x reader #montgomery gator x reader #burntrap x reader #springtrap x reader #sundrop x reader #moondrop x reader #dj music man x reader #djmm x reader #gender neutral reader #x gn reader #male reader #x male reader