#blob doesn’t like speaking unless he has to

[raydianbluesandhues]

Do you have any hcs about Blob? That do you think his “mysterious past” is all about?

[guardian music]

Hi yes i do >:] it’s about time i share my headcanons about him

Buckle up folks it’s time for blob headcanons part 2: explaining his backstory this time

——

I think I’ve stated in his previous headcanon post that he isn’t Raydian. It’s very obvious that he isn’t; comparing him to one is like comparing a cat to a dog. There’s some similarities but there are a few differences that set them apart.

For starters Raydians don’t have tails! Blob does and it often trails behind him loosely. He has partial control over it but it does what it wants most of the time. It’s sort of his “compass” in a sense? It usually ends up pointing somewhere he needs to go, or he usually uses it to point to an exact place since the end of it is an arrow (and it makes it easier for him to track things). He gets asked about it sometimes and he just says/signs

“Oh, this thing? It’s my tail” and he goes back to whatever he was doing

As for what he is/could be, have a small bit of trivia:

before the development of De Blob, there was De Blob: Utrecht! Based off of the Utrecht School of Arts, this was essentially the prototype to the De Blob games.

this game basically followed the same plot: INKT taking over a colored city, Blob comes in to save the day

Though- instead of using color, you had to absorb people

( if you don’t believe me it’s on the wiki )

I remember reading this and I’m like “Oh cool. So what if I took this and just. made them like a subspecies of Raydians” which is why we’re here today

Utrecht (The Planet) and Utrechian/Utrechter (The People that Live There)

I headcanon them as carnivores based off the game’s mechanic of literally absorbing people. They can eat fruits but it’s not something they’re going to make a main part of their diet

They’re probably a lil grumpy and rude as result but they’re pretty similar to Raydians outside of that, colorful and genderless folks

I’ll make a separate post about these guys but! That’s what I believe he could be.

As for his backstory, I do believe he was born there, but was most likely discarded for his appearance. He was probably taken in by someone who possibly had a bit of pity for him, and could’ve eventually migrated over to Raydia. He wasn’t raised in Chroma (and if I remember correctly he was raised in Pantone Village) and most likely started realizing he wasn’t exactly normal compared to everyone else

Outside of the literal difference in species his powers are incredibly out of the ordinary. I think I briefly explained them but to sum it up: he can manipulate color energy. Reviving trees, changing the appearance of a bird, breaking Graydians out of suits by overloading them with color energy. He’s able to both manipulate color energy to do what he wants and is able to raise the color energy levels by simply painting.

These powers were something he was either given or born with, and while I’ve always said he was born with them it doesn’t make a bunch of sense. Who would he have gotten them from?

It would make more sense that he had gotten them from somewhere, possibly from some sort of accident or a strange overload of color energy. Perhaps that messed him up and now he has the ability to paint and do all that he can currently do

And what he got into contact with is an absolute mystery to me. Maybe an over abundance of color atoms? Color energy is very unstable and I wouldn’t be surprised if that were to be the reason, but it’s something that I’ll have to think about more

I don’t think he has an appetite for meat purely because of his upbringing; it probably makes him sick and irritates his stomach. It also probably tastes gross to him and he absolutely prefers fruits

And i think constantly being around Raydians has also influenced this. I think if he stuck to his natural diet he would have no friends whatsoever

He probably goes quiet when someone asks him where he’s from, or what his story is. It’s probably not a fond memory for him/he doesn’t remember everything. and asking about his power is probably going to get you the same response

#de blob #de blob 2 #headcanons #long post #blob doesn’t like speaking unless he has to #i would imagine he has a bit of an accent since he’s not from Raydia at all #and he prefers sign since he doesn’t have to speak at all #i dont even think he’s told the others about his heritage #it’s not like he wants to talk about it #and he wants to forget probably #i always thought he was probably seen as a monster by his own people #so being instantly accepted by a whole other species is something that stuck with him #makes him really happy that he chose to be the hero that day #i think he likes to think about what would’ve happened if he stayed on his home planet #a sort of what if #but i think he knows that he’s happiest here #but. he doesn’t remember how he got his powers #a very fuzzy memory. he just says he was born with them #but he genuinely doesn’t remember.

[biceratops7]

Good omens leak talk under cut, literally just vivid descriptions, keep away unless you’ve seen it and it’s too late:

Ok I have literally been staring at that image periodically whenever I think about it for several days. Because I am normal and like things neurotypically. So here’s literally just a big list of observations no matter how minute. If you read this whole thing then the brain worms have made it to your prefrontal cortex.

Crowley has his glasses on (already explained my theory behind that)

Crowley is obviously the instigator but it’s unclear whether or not Azirphale is currently an active participant, or if he’s still processing. I’m leaning on still processing, but it’s hard to tell with the shadow on his brow obscuring his expression and not being able to see his hands

Speaking of that shadow, what the hell is up with the lighting in this scene?? It’s not bad except for making things in an already blurry still unclear, it’s just strange to have something softly back lit but also clearing having another additional light source else where. It’s an interesting choice because it can lead to inference of the circumstances here.

Second, related question: where the hell are they?? So let’s just take stock of everything BUT Azirphale and Crowley we see here. First of all it’s mostly in shadow, however there is a prominent light source behind Aziraphale, possibly close to him. The light we see on Crowley’s hair is likely from the doorway behind them.

Quick detour, the doorway is the brightest thing in the frame, creating a slight silhouette effect. Silhouettes are often used in film for moments that are a big deal but visually obvious. It shows weight through simplicity because you still know what’s happening and why it’s important with way less visual info than normal. We all IMMEDIATELY recognized what was happening and lost our shits even though it’s in shadow and currently obscured by giant text.

Ok so anyway this all leads me to believe they’re in a mostly dark room with one bright but not very far reaching light. I wanna say it’s almost fluorescent? Or an exposed lightbulb? It certainly doesn’t look warm like a lamp to me.

In addition I believe they’re inside a room to a larger building. The light coming from the door is almost certainly NOT day light. It’s purely white as if it’s a very well lit room or hall. There also is what I think looks like an exit sign near the top next to the doorway, or at least idk what else it could be. Because of that I don’t think this is anyone’s home or small shop.

I find this EXTREMELY interesting because the only prominent location we really see fit that vibe or description is the office building of heaven and hell. This season seems to be particularly highlighting that “neutral ground” between then, with the elevator showing up three times.

Now this one is just me trying to interpret literal blobs, but there either appears to be some sort of rounded extension to the top of the door way, or the walls are just thick. Make of that what you will

the room appears relatively spacious but mostly bare, almost like a holding place. But obviously with such a tight frame this can be hard to tell. I did take note of the fact that you can see some brown lines behind Aziraphale in the first frame, so there is clearly something there.

Alright enough waxing poetry about the damn walls, I know that they're probably standing up. Crowley might be in a position where he can twist into it from a sitting position, but with Aziraphale' shoulders so far forward and his back entirely angled to face Crowley, he'd either have to be straddling a chair or his lower spine is snapping like a glowstick.

Aziraphale is not being pushed against anything, he’s rocking backwards despite the force being applied to pull him forward, so in other words our boy Crowley’s REALLY shooting his shot, lmao

Aziraphale’s arms are confusing. They’re clearly not holding onto Crowley even out of frame, but they also don’t seem fully relaxed at his sides to me either.

WAIT, ok so the standing is still a strong contender, but they could also be sitting across from eachother at a small table. Crowley seems hunched over a bit more than is warranted for Aziraphale’s height, and Aziraphale’s arms could propped up at the elbows supporting his weight.

So damnit this adds a whole new layer to the location question

#this is so unhinged please forgive me #good omens spoilers #good omens #good omens leak #ineffable husbands #analysis #speculation #aziraphale #Crowley #season 2 #biceratops

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Five (Part 3)

It’s so nice to sit there as the sun goes down and the bonfire roars beside us. Kasper finishes cooking our food, and everyone grabs what they can from the plate he serves. I squirt a ton of mustard onto a burger and tuck in hungrily. I think about how it is the perfect day. I’m sitting with my closest friends on a beautiful beach watching a beautiful sunset, and I have a boy! I finally have a boy that I like and who likes me back, and we’re here together and it actually doesn’t feel weird. I turn to admire him and see that he has a blob of ketchup on his face, and I wipe it off for him. 

“You two are so cute.” Kelly says. “Two little love birds.” She sounds somehow more drunk than before, but I hope that after she eats something she might sober up a bit. “I knew you’d be right for each other. When I was thinking of finding a boy for Evie to kiss this summer I thought, wow, wouldn’t little Liam be perfect for her.”

Liam laughs awkwardly. “Little Liam?”

“No no, seriously, take it as a compliment, she doesn’t let any boys near her. I always feel like I have to force her.” I feel my face get warm, and I glance around at everyone and to my horror realise that they’re all listening to our conversation.

“That’s not really true…” I say defensively.

“Oh my god! It is! But it’s fine, we accept you for it. Evie’s such a good girl, and most boys are too ugly and boring for her, I’d be flattered if I was Liam. I really would.” She is laughing and smiling through it all like it’s a joke, but I know that she means what she’s saying. She really does think I’m stuck up and prudish. I resent her for it. I thought best friends were supposed to understand each other. 

“Haha, okay.” He says, glancing at me, and I wonder if he’s thinking those things about me too, about how wooden I was on our walk last night, and how it took us so long to kiss. I bet he thought I was bad at it too, I just have a feeling that I’m never doing it right.

Kelly barrels on. “She’s going for it this time. We’re proud of her, no really, we are. She got there in the end. Better late than never, I always say.”

Claire stands up and grabs Kelly’s hand. “Hey, will you come to the bathroom with me?” Kelly looks up at her surprised, and then is pulled up – no, hauled up out of her chair by our friend. She is quickly ushered away from me and into the house, and there is a long pause when she’s gone. My heart is thumping in my chest so loudly that I’m sure everyone can hear it. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I stare down at my feet, humiliated. Now everyone, even this cool, older crowd that I just met knows I’m a loser. And a virgin, but I guess those two things aren’t mutually exclusive. 

I feel a cool, steady hand on my shoulder then, and I look up and see that Jen has come over to be next to me. “Hey, do you want to take a little walk with me?” I don’t think I can speak without risking bursting into tears, and I know that if I stay where I am I will have some sort of panic attack or something, so I nod. She takes my hand and we walk up into the dunes away from everyone’s eyes. 

“I didn’t want to say anything bad in front of her brother,” She says once we’re out of earshot “But Kelly sounds really insecure to me. I know she’s obviously pissed drunk, but she said all of that stuff in front of everybody on purpose.”

I start crying as soon as I try to talk, but I wobble through it. “I’m so embarrassed. Not everybody needed to know all about me and my business.”

She gives me a hug, and I sink my head into her shoulder as we sit down onto the sand. I’m getting tears all over her top but she doesn’t seem to care. “Aw, chicken, the things she said, they weren’t about you. They were about her. She’s just jealous of you, it’s so obvious.”

“She’s not jealous of me.”

“Are you serious? Of course she is. Nobody would try to embarrass their friend in front of a crowd of strangers unless they were jealous.”

“Kelly has nothing to be jealous of.” I wipe my nose on my sleeve. “She’s got so much more than me. She’s funnier and more confident, prettier, more experienced… She’s got it all. Everyone loves her.”

“Well I think that if she believed that herself she wouldn’t be lashing out at you. If that girl was truly happy in herself then she would have been kinder to you in that moment. She knew that everyone could hear her and she said it anyway.” She wipes my tear stained face with both her thumbs. “Look at you, girl, you’re stunning. Anybody would be jealous of you, and you know what I think? Those things she said about boys… I think you’re right to be picky. Most of them are rats.”

I laugh through my sobs. There’s something so soft and comforting about her, she’s motherly. I feel like I can be vulnerable. “I get scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Scared of falling behind everybody.”

“What everyone else is doing and when they’re doing it is their business.”

“I know but… I feel like there’s things I should know by the time I’m seventeen. Like I’m scared that I’m bad at kissing because I haven’t had enough kisses, and then when it comes to… other stuff, I’ll be expected to know what to do, but I won’t, because I keep running scared from all romantic possibilities. It’s a cycle that keeps getting worse.”

“Evie, I promise that nobody cares about that, and if they do they’re a dickhead. The right person will treat you like a human being and be understanding of where you’re at. There’s no age limit on any of this, you do you.”

I sniff. I wonder how Jen is so wise about all of this stuff, and she’s only a year older than I am. She must know everything about love. I ask her: “Have you found the right guy yet?”

She cackles then, shattering the serious tone. “God, no. I don’t like men. I’m gay.”

“Oh!” I laugh. “Oh okay!”

“I kissed enough boys in the teenage discos of my youth to be sure that they’re not for me.” She says. “It’s brutal out there, don’t ever settle for less than what’s right for you. That’s my advice”

“Thank you.” I say, and I tear up again. “Oh, sorry, I don’t know why I keep crying.”

“It’s alright. Cry it out girl. I’ll sit with you until you’re ready to go back to the party.” And she does. And we sit in the sand and talk until all my tears have dried up and I’m ready to face the world again.

Prev // Next

#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #fiction #romance #sims 4 storytelling #sims4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 1

[fluffallamaful]

Okay, so, my initial idea was that nobody (not even Punz) would know about Dream’s embarrassing little secret. And I don’t think Sapnap or George would know because 1) that’s the only way this AU really works and 2) let’s be honest: those two are absolute morons. And Dream’s always been super reserved, so it makes sense.

In any case, I think he’d actually be way more distant with both of them. He already went to pretty extreme lengths to make sure neither would be associated with him anymore for their own safety. Plus, the allure of them being there might be so tempting that he’d be scared to stay lest he end up giving up on his initial plan entirely. Or maybe it would just hurt. Sapnap did promise to kill him if he ever escaped. Maybe he doesn’t want to confront the idea that his brother hates him now. At least, not more than he absolutely has to.

If Sapnap DOES recognize him, then maybe he’s torn. Maybe he wants to go after him and fulfill his promise. Maybe he knows that Dream never goes into this form unless he’s extremely badly hurt, or scared, or stressed. (Dream told him that he was tortured. Was that…was that true?) Maybe he decides to go on a manhunt to catch him, figuring that he can make a decision later. Maybe it acts as an outside threat to keep Dream from ever getting TOO relaxed in a new location.

With George specifically, I could see Dream being very gentle. Maybe George finds him while he’s foraging for mushrooms, and picks him up to take him inside. Maybe Dream would stay the night and snuggle close to him in bed. Maybe it would remind him of their nights together in the good old days. But he’d leave almost immediately after George falls asleep: it’s just too painful. (George would wake up and assume the blob was just another dream from XD. Whether he recognizes it as Dream or not.)

@azuregiggles there you go :D

i agree i agree that he’d be more cautious in going to sap and george for help. coz yeah, sap has literally threatened to kill him, and seeing george but not being able to be as close as he used to be with him just hurts :((

(discussion below):

🦙🦙🦙…

both situations are super cute,, in that the first insinuates that dream would be entirely out of practice and way more scared as a blob. liek if he never lets anyone else see him like this :(( but then also i love the idea of sap being torn, and the race between quackity and sap unknowingly occurring, as they both search for dream.

it would also make sense in the lore that dream never even comes across the members of kinoko kingdom after he speaks to sapnap. because after dream’s threat sapnap quickly goes back and stands guard there. and dream doesn’t go back again.

but my god i really do love the idea of george and sap (maybe just sap coz george is asleep) hearing news of the fact that a white blob has been seen around the server (a super cuddly and sweet one), and half of sap’s head telling him that it’s convenient because dreams easier to kill liek this,, but then the other half reminding him that dream is only transformed because he’s weakened

🦙🦙🦙…

#thankfully literally everything is possible 😍 #we can have both 😍😍 #azuregiggles #llama asks #lore with llama #soup the destroyer #Soups Pet Blob AU

[lycheecreature]

oc appearance/presentation notes I wrote for artfight under the cut. just felt like throwing em out there

Meridian is of Southeast Asian descent, primarily coded as Chinese-Indonesian. They are nonbinary, but ok with both gender-neutral and male terminology. He usually wears heels and walks on his toes, even while barefoot. They are curvy with strong thighs, but fall short of being considered chubby. His ears are gauged. Their right hand is made of aether, similar to the "ring" marks on their fingers, but it is usually concealed. When ungloved, it is more difficult for them to maintain the shape of the hand, and it may appear wispy or blob-like. Up close, his eyes are clearly and distinctly ringed, unlike typical human eyes, though they just look grey from afar. He is autistic and displays short periods of selective mutism on occasion.

Ivrel's face is almost completely flat when viewed from profile - her chin sticks out more than whatever constitutes her "nose." Her left eye is swollen partially shut, and always looks smaller than the right eye. She can see in the dark, and her slitted pupils get wider in low light. Her antennae are prehensile and respond to emotion. She has claw-like fingers and toes. Her blood is grey, as are the veins visible across her body. She has a long, forked grey tongue with a stud in it. Ivrel is fairly thin but visibly toned. She is very hairy. Her ethnicity is intentionally vague and open to interpretation, but she does have a Southern twang when speaking. 

Chariot is heavyset and strong with smooth, porcelain-like skin. He is intended to be Southeast Asian - his appearance takes inspiration from wayang golek and wayang potehi (among other traditional artforms). He does not need to open his mouth to speak and rarely does so. The line on his forehead connected to the red dot functions as his brow and moves to suit his expression. His posture and movements tend to be stiff and mechanical, unless he is fighting, where he appears more fluid.

Septima has two prehensile tails and ears that can move to show her emotions, though facially she tends to be more stoic. Her eyelids are a bit droopy. When their mouth is open, you can see that they has a tooth gap. She is curvy and bottom-heavy. Septima is not really an athletic person, but is fairly nimble and has decent climbing ability due to her species. She tends to stand on top of tables, chairs, etc. They are autistic. Septima is mostly female-aligned, but she doesn't care much about her own gender or pronouns. 

Audrist is a caucasian trans man and appears albino, though this is an affect of his hypersensitivity to the astral realm rather than albinism proper. He is small and thin, appearing almost unhealthily so, though, he is surprisingly fast and lithe. However, note that it is often difficult for him to breathe without the mask, particularly while exerting himself. The mask can be summoned to his face and attaches to the small panels along his jawline. The panels themselves have an almost glasslike shine to them. The mask entirely covers the scar across his nose and cheek. He has prominent cheekbones and slightly sunken cheeks. When his mouth is open, his large canines are visible, making him appear almost vampiric (he isn’t).

Zee is a trans woman of Afro-Caribbean descent. She has mid-length, curly, naturally dark brown hair. She frequently dyes some or all of her hair - right now, it is partially orange and yellow. She is chubby. Her right eye is slightly lighter than her left eye, and her vision is also slightly impaired in her lighter eye. She usually wears an earpiece over her left ear, but has pierced ears underneath. The earpiece can summon a connected eyepiece that allows her to see whatever her drone is seeing.                                            

#antisolar arc #important frogcast

[cpirits]

(( HC EDWARD ELRIC

1) Edward doesn’t like loud noises or surprises. Since he is blind he finds them highly upsetting and will likely cry upon hearing something and become almost hysterical.

2) He uses a regular cane around his apartment (a wooden one with a rubber grip for his hand). And a white cane when he goes out.

3) He hates bright lights as they cause him motion sickness + he can no longer ride in a vehicle more than 30 minutes without getting carsick.

4) Ed can read braile but refuses with almost the utmost disgust.

5) He had nightmares about the crash and often thinks Winry is in the apartment with him. He’ll sometimes talk at her and start crying.

6) The only music he can handle is soft ambient tones– even then there isn’t enoughfor him to enjoy so he often sits in silence.

7) He’s not fully in the dark, but can still see blobs of color and distinguish night and day.

8) Edward doesn’t like sour food – his sense of smell and taste are used more so they are more sensitive.

9) Sometimes his skin breaks out into a rash if he’s outside to long with any skin exposed so he often goes out in a long coat and hat.

10) He wears his hair in a loose pony tail to avoid severe headaches in the evenings.

11) His eyes are now a milky gold color. Small slivers of glass could never be removed near his iris.

12) On some occasions his extremities become numb if he undergoes a significant amount of stress.

13) His body holds many tiny scars from the glass and slight burns from the car fire. Every time he showers he has to stop in the middle for a quiet second to shiver and then moan from the pain.

14) He carries a tiny picture of Winry in his wallet and always lays it on the pillow next to his head after kissing it before he falls asleep.

15) He’s actually lactose intolerant. It developed later in life and drinking Milk makes him violently ill.

16) Ed has a bit of a talent with whittling, since Alchemy is no more since the Gate was shut for good. He likes to make hearts and dogs.

17) He loves a good head massage.

18) He hates the sound of his own voice, so he doesn’t speak unless it’s needed.

19) His hands are weak due to his fighting when younger. The joints have lost their movement, and his ligaments have become very strained. He’s often found rubbing them.

20) Ed’s favorite things to do are to take walks round the apartment building, and to sit with the window open listening to the city sounds at night.

#mind: edward ( blind dreamer ) #* // edward au ( golden time is over / trial of the gods ) #『 learn a new fact // headcanon 』

[god-whispers]

oct 17

harvest time

"but when the grain ripens, immediately he puts in the sickle, because the harvest has come." mark 4:29

i was communicating with a friend the other day.  she is an avid gardener and we talked about how we loved to watch things grow and how amazing it was.  there is a planting and there is a harvest.  "to everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven." eccl 3:1

a dear friend keeps my yard for me but i like to have a few indoor plants to grow and watch the wonder of God's Word at work.  years ago i used to grow african violets because i think they are pretty.  (a former boss got me started on them.)  someone reminded me of that recently and i was enticed to order three again to grow.

i told my friend that one is very healthy and growing.  one is semi-healthy and struggling to put forth new growth.  the final one is very sickly with just a tiny blob emerging.  i told her it was on life support and i had begun talking to it and commanding it to "live," in Jesus name.  (you may think that silly but that name has all authority.)  unless i am being deceived, i think i see a tiny leaf struggling to grow.

you may ask why i am speaking so much about plants.  well the truth is we are all much like these three little violets i am attempting to grow.  of course, we all know the parable Jesus told about sowing seeds and how some prospered and some did not.  see mark, chapter four if you need refreshing.)

speaking of my violets again - the healthy one is looking good and i expect to see blooms from it before too long.  that's how "healthy" christians are too.  they may have gone through times of pruning before, but now they are walking purposefully with God and are ready to bloom and produce the fruit He wants from their lives.

then we have the semi-healthy ones.  perhaps they want to do better, to be better, but they keep getting distracted by various things.  i know we must all be diligent to perform the needed tasks, but not to the neglect of the Lord.  i have often thought before that there just wasn't time to pray.  i have since learned better.  it's amazing how God can multiply you available time when you put Him first.  time is like the parable of the loaves and fishes.  He can multiply anything.

the worry i have for these brethren is that they might be perceived by God as those who are "neither hot nor cold."  and because of that, "so then, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will vomit you out of My mouth." rev 10:10  i don't want that for them.  God doesn't want that for them, but He doesn't want some mealy mouthed, uncommitted christians.  He wants "choosers."  (do you remember the message i wrote about the fence?)

then we come to the sickly ones on life support.  they have believed in the grace God offers and rejoiced in it at one time.  then, perhaps slowly, they began to be deceived by the message the world was offering.  things like real love means being free to love anyone.  after all, we were given free will and just maybe we wants something different from the norm - different from God's way.  God's wants us to be happy and you just can't be happy living His way.

soon their spirit becomes calloused like tough skin on one's hands or feet.  it becomes so hardened that it mat be cut away without ant pain whatsoever.  friends, it is that pain that lets us know there is a problem; that lets us know something is wrong and danger lies ahead.

"then you returned and wept before the Lord, but the Lord would not listen to your voice nor give ear to you." deut 1:45  one cannot come to the Lord unless the Holy Spirit draws them.  perhaps He has spoken and spoken and you would not listen.  now He will not listen to you.

life support indeed.  venturing close to the firey fires of hell.  a place there is no coming back from.  "between us and you there is a great gulf fixed, so that those who want to pass from here to you cannot, nor can those from there pass to us." luke 16:26  and we're talking forever.

heavenly Father, in you great, abundant mercy i pray that you call again to those standing of the brink of eternity.  grant ears to hear, eyes to see and a truly repentant heart.  speak once again to their spirit before the plunge into that great abyss - separation from You forever.  In the name of Jesus i pray.

[pixelpalettesart]

Here’s my first batch of ref sheets, otherwise known as “I potentially have DID, here’s some guys to compensate” /hj

Information about each of them is under the cut! It’s mostly bullshit lore rambling so if you don’t like that I understand

Tez (He/Him), namesake coming from the Aztec god Tezcatlipoca (though I shortened his name as to not offend anyone hgdfurj), is the definition of “The world revolves around me and me alone!” He’s stuck up and sees everyone else as his stepping stones, but admittedly has a soft spot for Jax. His main shifted form, curtesy of being a Shapeshifter (along with the rest of this batch), is a rabbit.

Fawn (He/They/It) is a nervous wreck of a cyborg. He’s very skittish and doesn’t like talking to people much, but is not a bad guy when you get to know him. Their shifted form is a Greyhound.

Echo (It/He) is a manipulator at heart, though it seems reserved in moments of quiet, almost... contemplative. Fawn seems to be his favorite bullying victim, though between you and me? I don’t think it wants to truly hurt them. His shifted form is a Fox.

Felix (He/Him) is the happy, calm friend of the group. He’s trans, but still chooses to wear skirts because they make him feel good. He’s always had Hip-Hop since he was spawned into existence, and his shifted form is a Canary.

Faith (He/They) is quiet, but good at making friends. He doesn’t like Alastor, and Alastor doesn’t like him, but they mostly manage to coexist. Them and Felix spawned into existence at the same time, and they might be siblings, but it’s ambiguous enough that nobody can really tell for 100% certainty. Neither of them have answered any questions about their relationship. His shifted form is a Barn Owl.

Alastor (He/She) is reserved. Very reserved. He doesn’t talk to anyone most of the time, and seems to have spawned after Kris left his ex. Might be something up with that. She also says fuck gender norms! His shifted form is a Goat.

Kimon (They/Them) is a tired, tired person. Like Alastor, they don’t speak much, but when they do, it’s either snarky or telling someone to shut up, very bluntly. Much to their annoyance, Jax likes to follow them around. If you were to take off their blanket, you’d find nothing but a black blob. Due to their lack of limbs, they have to levitate things. Their shifted form is a Sheep.

Jax (He/Him) is what ADHD would be like if it were a person. He’s friendly, outgoing, scatterbrained, and honestly a joy to be around, unless you’re Alastor or Kimon. Jax only appeared after Kris’ ADHD diagnoses. His shifted form is a River Otter.

#long post #infodumping #lore #loredumping #my ocs #my art #my oc art #shapeshifter #shapeshifter oc #shapeshifter art #shapeshifter oc art #artists on tumblr #ref sheet #ref sheets #oc ref sheet #oc ref sheets

[omegasmileyface]

Bound by the Food Chain

"man what if there was something incorporating both the Ghost King and Ghost Hunger aus" i say, not prepared to spend weeks writing up an entire ecosystem structure for the ghost zone,

thanks @attackradish and @ectolemonades for help figuring out the science and writing!

summary: The ghostly Staff who've taken up residence in Phantom's Keep notice Danny doesn't eat any ectoplasmic food. That can't be good for him.

warnings: detailed description of ghost hunger, which is vaguely like cannibalism

words: 2830

AO3 link

===

“King Phantom, when do you feed?”

“Huh?” Danny looked up at the Keep’s Librarian, Vellum. It felt like an odd question, seeing as he was currently actively eating a sandwich he had packed up with him into the Zone. He was spending a few hours in the Keep that day since it was nice and quiet for getting work — from both realms — done, and he had brought some earth food over. Ghost plants just didn’t taste very good.

Vellum looked a little shocked, like she hadn’t realized she’d asked her question aloud. “I mean, clearly you eat human food quite a bit,” she gestured to his sandwich, “but I’ve never seen you take in any sort of ectoplasmic substance.”

Danny wasn’t an expert on the (strangely psychological) ecology of the Infinite Realms, but he was familiar with the fact that all ghosts had to take in some sort of ectoplasm if they wanted to be anything more than an inert impression of emotion. Since he had never gotten any enjoyment or significant energy from eating ghost plants or breathing in the stuff ambient in the air, he pretty much just stuck with eating human food and converting the chemical energy between his forms. He was lucky that he could do that, being part human. He knew he automatically gained some energy from the human emotions around him (including his own, another benefit of being liminal) but it was negligible. He got drained pretty easily, and he knew there were things he wasn’t trying, but… he was tired, not desperate. He’d be tired anyway, with his lack of sleep.

“That’s because I don’t. I can still use the chemical energy I get from human food in my ghost form, so…” he shrugged. “This is pretty much it.”

Vellum’s brows furrowed in concern. “Are you not a—” She pursed her lips. “Are you not tired?”

“What do you mean? I definitely eat more than a regular human, and as far as I’m aware I don’t lose any of my energy in conversion. I’m getting by.”

“I think we should talk to Dr. Marchs. I don’t know if it’s… ok, that you’re not feeding ectoplasmically.”

With some exasperation, Danny let himself be brought back to the Throne room, the preferred place for anything that could constitute a “meeting”. Apparently, talking to the Keep’s Doctor, Chef, and some other Staff members about his diet counted.

The various adult ghosts looked at Danny with shared expressions of confusion and concern from where they stood around him. He was sitting on the arm of the Throne, not the most comfortable but it still felt wrong to be properly seated in it unless necessary.

Dr. Marchs finally spoke their piece. “Forgive me for asking, Your Majesty, but… are you not a hunting-ghost?”

Danny was already out of his league culturally. He had a lot to learn. “As in… like, a predator?”

“Exactly! Your core best processes ectoplasm directly from other ghosts, correct?”

Danny paled. “I don’t… know? I tend to avoid going around, just… eating other sentient creatures.” He tried to say it in a humorous way. It didn’t work.

“So you’ve never tried! I had thought… Well, I think you must be a hunting-ghost. You put out a radiant power that is only associated with that core type.”

“None of us have seen you feeding,” added Vellum, “so we weren’t sure you didn’t just defy that association. I don’t think anyone really understands all the complications of half-human physiology.”

Dr. Marchs jumped back in easily. “It’s still just speculation. You have said that you don’t enjoy eating plants from this realm, yes?” Danny nodded. “And you don’t seem to get significant relief from human emotion. Well, we’re just going to have to have you try feeding on some ghosts.”

Danny jumped to his feet. “What?! I don’t… need that, I get by fine on human food!”

“But aren’t you tired?” pointed out the Chef. Her eyes widened. “That’s why you get so drained after using big attacks! Your energy reserves aren’t being nearly refilled.”

“I believe she’s right, Your Majesty. There’s only so much energy you can take from human food, which isn’t even alive… I think you’re always tired because your core is designed to have a level of energy that you can’t provide it without processing Vital ectoplasm.”

Danny didn’t want to admit that he was consistently pretty damn tired. Instead he tried to change the subject. Ghosts were passionate beings, and as much as he hated to take advantage of that, having one of the Keep Staff gush about one of their passions to him was much better than talking about his relationship with what was essentially cannibalism. “Vital?”

Dr. Marchs’ eyes sparkled a little. “Vital as in living, not as in essential. Ectoplasm comes in three major forms. Ambient plasm makes up most of the Realms, in environments and atmospheres and auras. All ghosts are made up of Vital plasm, and those with cores have their Obsession or Purpose imprinted into the crystal structure of their own ectoplasm, which can be turned into Charged ectoplasm. The Charged form can take up an elemental type according to the ability of its source, and it has the most capacity to hold or be converted into ectoenergy. The Charged form is used to transmit intention onto a target, so it’s generally created by Cored ghosts, who are creatures of intention, in attacks or construction. Regardless of type or state, ectoplasm processing depends on its form — Uncored ghosts can process strong human emotions or Ambient ectoplasm into the Vital type. Among Cored ghosts, hunter-ghosts can best process Vital ectoplasm, gatherer-ghosts the high-activity type of Ambient plasm found in ghost plants, and scavenger-ghosts human emotion. Additionally, Charged plasm no longer linked to the source of its intention will eventually disperse into Ambient, as its most inert form.”

Danny, sitting down, had already known part of that, but the Doctor was properly smiling at this point. Dr. Marchs blushed as they realized they had just been talking, but none of the other ghosts in the room appeared to mind.

“…Regardless, King Phantom, we should really find some blobs for you to try eating. I cannot in good conscience leave you persisting off such low energy.”

He wanted to argue, he really did, but all the Keep Staff present were looking at Danny with this pleading expression. They looked genuinely concerned, and he remembered a comment he’d heard before about some of the Staff latching onto the King with their Obsessions. Some unfortunate result of the connection they’d formed with the Keep, Danny certainly didn’t deserve it, but he did know how it felt to Obsess over taking care of someone and have them turn down that care. With the same concerned look directed back their way, he got up and was led to the Garden out back.

Danny was having second thoughts again once he found himself surrounded by blobs that had been enjoying the intricate plants and high Ambient ecto levels of the Keep Garden. They were squishy but soft, like mochi coated in a good layer of starch, each a bit smaller than his head, and they all looked at him with these big vibrant eyes. Their postures were energetic, like they expected to play a game.

Once he sat down with the rest of the small group — why did he have to have an audience? — the blobs swarmed around him, resting on the sky blue grass and on his shoulders and in the others’ laps. They looked almost as expectant as the Staff in front of him.

“I…“ he bit his lip. “I can’t justify eating a living creature when I can choose not to. I know lots of ghosts have to eat others to persist, but I have the privilege that I can eat human food instead. Since I have that option, I can’t just… end another creature so I can feel a bit better.” Hey, Sam would be proud of him.

The present Staff donned looks of confusion. An Advisor who used the Keep as a home spoke up, eyes wide with realization. “Ah! Living creatures all share a survival instinct — that’s a natural result of evolution, yes? Things that do their best to live have their genes passed on? That’s not necessary for Uncored ghosts, since they do not reproduce and therefore don’t evolve. The only instincts experienced by the Uncored are instincts to better the Realms. Unless they’ve developed a strong individual personality, the Uncored are much more interested in contributing than in persisting.”

Danny’s head tilted in curiosity. Dr. Marchs took the reins on the rest of the explanation.

“The Realms are built socially where the living realm is built physically. Our homes and well-being are made from emotion, belief, and community. So for Uncored ghosts, spawned of the dimension itself, they want their ectoplasm and energy to be where it supports those communities the most, and that means ensuring the health of the ghosts in charge. Generally speaking, the more powerful a ghost is, the more likely they are to have some importance to the Realms. The Uncored — and many Cored — can sense a ghost’s power due to how much excess ectoplasm they let off. In fact, that excess is almost immediately put off as Ambient ectoplasm, meaning that there is simply more Ambient plasm around a powerful ghost, and the Uncored are often attracted since that provides sustenance for them . It’s a mutualistic relationship where one entity feeds off another, and in the end the resources of the weaker ghosts are given to the stronger, supporting the Realms. In fact, there are some cultures who believe that converting ectoplasm into a form the Cored can process is the entire reason for the existence of the Uncored.”

Vellum smiled slightly as she added on, “It’s not an entirely accurate strategy, as the most powerful ghost around is not always going to be a hunter type. They usually are, seeing as that’s the most efficient form of feeding, but it’s not impossible to be otherwise. The result in these cases is Uncored ghosts following around said Cored ghost, and as the same aspect of community comes into play, that ghost soon ends up hanging around a hunter type, who feeds on the prey that was collected.”

Danny cringed a little at the use of the word “prey”.

He looked around at the blobs nuzzled up against him. Those who didn’t look to be something resembling unconscious were peering up at him. They certainly looked expectant, as much as something without even a permanent mouth can.

After he was silent for a few moments, another Staff member spoke up, likely wanting to lighten his mood. “They really do like you! I’m not surprised, even aside from your natural power, the role you play as High King causes ectoplasm to be magnetized to you. I’m sure they’re having a little feast themselves!”

It did not lighten his mood. Danny felt genuinely guilty. Even if he wasn’t doing it on purpose, wasn’t he effectively manipulating these creatures into offering themselves up to be eaten? It wasn’t right, to make them feel as if they want to be ended, just because he had some sort of aura.

But the gathered Staff were still concerned, and anticipatory, and, somehow, hopeful . He couldn’t turn them down at this point. He’d just have to bite into one of the little ghosts surrounding him, just once. He’d throw up, disgusted with himself, and the Staff would realize it wasn’t better for him, and the remaining blobs would remember that they don’t want to die, and they’d flee, and everybody would just leave the subject alone . He only had to try.

(The human dread he was emitting at this point must have been feeding everyone else.)

“…Okay,” he said simply, and gently picked up a blob that had been sitting on his leg.

Before he could rethink himself again, he brought it to his lips. He opened his jaw slightly wider than a human’s would likely go and, fangs instinctually extended, bit down.

Danny was familiar with the scent of ectoplasm. Copper and citrus and battery acid and salt. But when he broke the surface of the small ghost and the viscous fluid burst into his mouth, the salty and bitter aspects were lost on his tongue, replaced by a thick sweetness and the cold tingle of energy. Where his fangs pierced an inch down into the substance of the ghost, he tasted this fulfillment in its emotional ectoplasm. He’s not sure he would have been able to taste it if he weren’t part human. Still, the feeling was something distinctly ghostly, a similar satisfaction to fulfilling an Obsession or a Purpose. It was hard to feel bad, sympathizing automatically with that simple rightness. The way the emotion pressed at his brain, the way the semisolid edges of the ghost slicked against his tongue, his own self-revulsion melted to the back of his mind. The ectoplasmic flesh met his teeth with a thick resistance, but it was nothing to break past it and open up to the deeper substance. It was vibrant, a pure cool energy that pulsed against his fangs. (His core sucked it up greedily.) His mouth met the energy with a pulsing of its own, a harmonizing signal sent from his core throughout his body like a heartbeat. It came out as a low purr that vibrated deep through the charged air around him. He couldn’t help but rush to swallow, though his body absorbed it just as easily without.

The blob ghost had been the size of his foot, and now it was part of the energy making up his own form. Compared to the power his core was passively putting out, to the amount it longed to have refilled, it wasn’t all that much. Unconsciously, his core put out an ectoenergetic signal that he was ready to feed. The blobs around him nuzzled closer yet, making themselves available. Danny could feel a few other Uncored ghosts who were drifting nearby come into the garden and join them.

He looked up from his ectoplasm-stained hands at the Keep Staff. They were looking at him, relieved, pleased (even though they just watched him tear into a living thing and then absorb it into his being like it didn’t even matter, said a part in the back of his consciousness. It was hard to focus on, though. It was coming from his brain, not his hungry core, after all). With his core this active, he could feel the presences of all the other ghosts around. The blobs flocking around him had auras that were weaker than the Cored Staff, but sturdy. There was a balance to them that signaled the ectoplasmic types they were taking in and storing. He sensed the Uncored pulling in the Ambient ectoplasm that sloughed off of him, barely connected to him anymore if not for the weight of the space surrounding him. And he could feel all of their stores of energy-dense Vital plasm.

He could also feel, just as an aspect of his being, his own energy stores. The metaphysical space in his center that his form and all his strength drew from. He could remember, abstractly, the moment he died and that reservoir came to be and was instantly flooded with energy. The way the portal had searched the air until it found his body and his little human soul and used him as a conduit, and all that electricity punched a hole between planes right where his ghost was trying to form, and something tore outward from that starting place just on top of his being, and the vacuum that formed on earth and in the Zone and everything in between pulled until the Infinite Realms rushed his body and in one instantaneous moment his forming core was flooded with enough ectoplasmic energy to become entirely corporeal (if it hadn’t, his ghost wouldn’t have manifested nearly quickly enough to keep him alive), and his being was stretched beyond its limits containing everything. For one moment, he had been filled with more energy than he had thought possible, and his ghost had formed itself to accommodate. Since then he’d felt so… empty. His body took what it could from human food and environmental energy, but it was made for more than that. He had blocked out the awareness of his reserves and gotten used to trying to power all his defenses on so little. He was always so tired.

He still felt low, running on just enough to operate something humanish. But his core had latched on to the ectoplasm provided by the blob, the kind it was designed to process, and finally felt a little relieved. Most ghosts that stayed within the Realms were almost always full. Danny wasn’t nearly there yet.

He reached down and grabbed another blob.

#alt title: What Taco Bell Does to a Bitch #danny phantom #my writing #roxys worldbuilding #i havent posted the Full Ecology Rant so this is as close as my blog is getting rn lmaooooo #ghost hunger #ghost king danny #hey this ones actually edited! #HOW do you people write things more than 5k.....

[honklore]

invisible string | dreamwastaken

(requested plot by red string of fate soulmate au, dream is still a streamer, reader has commitment issues, dream just wants someone to love, chat is the best wingman, sapnap and george try but they suck, reader is timid but dream makes them feel brave, taylor swift references, this is not very deep or poetic at all, i don’t like typing y/n so after this i’m going to move to ___)

listen to: invisible string by taylor swift

In kindergarten, red strings were simply a crafting tool, and teachers never mentioned how much pain they would eventually bring.

Because when they appear, from a child’s eighteenth birthday and beyond, they tighten like a godforsaken high school ring that came in one size too small. Like the universe is a child tugging their mother towards the ice cream truck, you’re pulled around central Florida, passes faces you can’t memorize and voices too garbled to hear.

The string knows where you need to go, and when.

And you’re at the park, feeding ducks and trying to ignore that incessant pull that tugs at your pinky, when you hear it.

It’s a voice you know only because it’s a voice that’s been in your house before. At least, through your brother’s tablet screen. Some gamer online — a streamer, with a distinct wheezing laugh that you’d recognize anywhere.

And you do. Behind you.

You risk a small peak, and your heart drops into your chest. He’s tall. Too tall to not intimidate you. And his sandy hair is wavy, curling at the collar of his sweatshirt, falling perfectly into place when he runs his hands through it. When he does, you see it, the red string.

Which means he could see it too. All he’d have to do is turn around.

But you’re not ready. You haven’t been, not since you watched your cousin get rejected on her eighteenth birthday. Since you watched a string of fate get clipped in front of you, like the three fates had finally had enough of your cousin’s happiness.

It was enough to make you curl into yourself, and reject the natural pull set before you. So you run, and you try not to think of what would’ve happened if he saw you before you saw him. You try not to feel the clippers, but the blade feels tangible against your skin.

You don’t stop running until you arrive home.

“Hey chat, just wanted to do a few practice runs and catch up with you guys,” Dream mumbles into the mic, already restarting his game after deciding he didn’t like his seed. The donos begin rolling in, even before Sapnap and George have unmuted, so Dream flits his eyes to the display screen, subconsciously reading along with the text-to-speech voice, “Dream, what if we shared a string of fate? Ahaha, just kidding... unless... love you bestie.”

Dream chuckles, “Actually chat, I felt a tug today! Isn’t that weird? I was actually reading up on what that could mean, and it seems like either my soulmate is in a lot of distress, or they were in my vicinity. I’m hoping, for their sake, it’s the second one. How would you even comfort a soulmate if all you can do is tug on a stupid string?”

“Simp!” George finally unmutes just to be annoying, and Dream knows soulmates are a touchy spot for him, considering he wasn’t given a string on his eighteenth. Which is strange, but not impossible. Of course, chat doesn’t know this, because it would give them more hope of becoming George’s metaphorical soulmate, but it certainly makes for awkward conversations once Dream and Sapnap get into their own soulmate bonds.

“I’m not simping, George!” Dream feels a bit defensive, because he’s genuinely just curious. He has no interest in meeting his soulmate right now. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He has his streams, and his friends, and chat. He’s fine.

[abbywastaken donated $10: dream why don’t you go back to where you felt the pull and see if you feel it again? that’s how i found my soulmate. okay luv u bye.]

“Thanks, Abby. Love you, too. Um, honestly I was in a pretty public place, so I don’t know if they would even come back anytime soon. Also, this is Orlando, right? Tourists are everywhere.”

Sapnap snorts, and Dream thinks it’s funny, since he’s in the other room. “Just say you’re a coward and go.”

“I’m not!” Dream says. “It was just a small pull, okay? It wasn’t even a big deal.”

He feels another lurch when he says that, but this one is in his chest. It taps against his heart, a quick reminder that it beats for someone else, and he needs to watch his words. “Okay, it was a big deal. Sort of. I’ll go tomorrow, okay chat?”

Chat is spamming all types of messages, from encouragement to jealousy. Dream manages to read off a few donos and create his first nether portal of the stream. He answers as they appear, eyes scanning for a fortress. “No, I didn’t see them… I’m not telling you guys where I was, that’s weird… I’m wearing a sweatshirt and jeans… Hi, Sarah and Patrick…”

He trails off as the donos do, and works at getting blaze rods. George is talking about a riddle he just learned, and he’s trying to trick Sapnap into saying something stupid.

Lost in his own thoughts, he finally closes the stream after a hasty goodbye. “What if I missed my chance?” He asks the two boys on the other line.

“It’s a string of fate, Dream,” George says. “You didn’t miss your chance.”

“Maybe they saw how ugly you are and ran away,” Sapnap says, completely joking, but the thought lingers in Dream’s head.

Did they feel the tug, and run away?

You pour cereal for yourself, and when your brother shuffles into the kitchen, you make him a bowl as well.

He’s eleven, and as little brothers go, he’s pretty chill. Aside from the inappropriate jokes and hogging the bathroom when you have to get ready for work, you like hanging around with him.

You pass him his bowl, and he grins. “I’m gonna watch Dream’s new video on the TV, since mom’s not home.”

You furrow your brows. Dream must be one of the dozens of streamers he likes. Maybe one of his friends will be in chat with him, and you will be able to connect a voice to a face. “Can I sit with you?”

He gives you an odd look, and it’s true, you don’t ask to watch videos with him often. “I guess.”

You eat a spoonful of cereal and settle into the couch while he gets everything ready. He clicks on a lime green icon of a little white blob man, and when the first video appears, you’re taken aback by the voice.

That’s the voice you heard. It’s this one, out of all the random men yelling about a block game. It’s Dream.

“Why doesn’t he show his face?” You manage, wanting information about the person that shares your string.

“What?”

“Like, he’s handsome, right? Why doesn’t he have a facecam?”

Your brother snorts. “Handsome? He’s never shown his face, Y/n. Don’t you know who Dream is? He’s like, super famous.”

“Oh.” You think of his golden hair, as sunny and soft as the glow around his entire being. His voice right now, joyous as he gets chased by his friends. “I mean, I don’t keep up with streamers.”

He begins to explain Dream and his friends, along with lore in their role play server, and it’s all interesting enough that you sit and listen, holding on to the little bits of information you can collect about your soulmate.

You file these facts in a secluded corner of your brain and try to make a whole person, along with the hair and the laugh and the intense music he plays as he gets hunted by his friends.

By nightfall, you’re following all of his socials and binge-watching his old streams, holding on to the way he speaks to his friends, and the fond way he replies to donos.

[dreamwastaken is live!]

You click on it, bundled underneath your covers as if someone might see you and find out your secret.

“Hi, chat! I know I was just live yesterday, but I cut it too short and wanted to come talk to you guys.”

He uses his avatar to wave at the screen, and it’s kind of an adorable sight.

[gogysimp donated $25: did you go see your soulmate?]

Your heart stops. Does he know? Did he see you? Or even worse, has he already found someone else, and he just hasn’t severed the tie?

“No!” Dream’s laugh pulls you out of your worries. “I was busy with meetings today, actually. And I was too nervous. Sapnap also refused to come with me, so I’m just going to go another day.”

So he didn’t see you. He just knows you were there.

You click the donate tab before you can stop yourself.

[y/n donated $1: would you reject your soulmate if you didn’t like them?]

Dream mumbles the question, and you try to ignore the way your heart deflates when he skips saying your name. “I don’t think so,” he states plainly. “I mean, logically, a soulmate would be your other half, so I wouldn’t not like them. But I know some people just don’t click, or there are other issues. So, I don’t know. I guess the only thing I can say is that I don’t want to reject them. And I hope they don’t reject me. I mean, imagine finding out your soulmate is a Minecraft Youtuber. That would be pretty weird…”

You giggle to yourself as he trails off and answers another donation. So he’s against rejection. Okay. Maybe you have a chance.

[kyra donated $60: i’m your soulmate.]

“Meet me where you felt the tug, then,” Dream says sassily. “Chat, don’t be weird, okay? I can’t control who my soulmate is, and I don’t want you guys to exclude them if they become a pat of my life.”

Oh, you think. So his chat is vocal about their opinions, and apparently they mean a lot to him. You shiver despite your warm position and imagine how annoying you might seem to his loyal viewers: someone who only knew about him because of their brother.

Insecurity pushes against your chest, so you close the stream and push your phone away, hoping to forget this ever happened, that maybe you won’t have to deal with the inevitable if you don’t think about it.

Yogurt Barn isn’t the first place on your list of dream jobs, but it has decent pay and helps you pay off student loans, so you appreciate it nonetheless. The teal sweatshirt they gave you as a uniform keeps you warm as you scoop the frozen treats.

Your coworker, a girl named Madison, is busy manning the counter, so you check each flavor and refill the ones running empty.

“Can I ask you a question?” Madison met her soulmate, Anna, only days after she got her string. It was a textbook romance, two people meant for each other, no doubt in anyone’s mind. She might be able to help you now. That is, if you can even admit to who your soulmate is.

“What’s up?”

“I felt the tug,” you say, avoiding her eyes in favor of restacking the medium cups.

“No way!” Madison is perky in a way that makes you want to be included. You like this about her. “Did you see them? Did you talk to them?”

“He—” You want to say that the part of him you saw was perfect, enough to keep you up when you should be dreaming. But reality is nothing if not disappointing. “I ran.”

“Y/n…” Madison gives you a stern look — like a mother finding out their child didn’t defrost the chicken in time. “Why would you run?”

“I don’t want to be rejected.” The magenta swirls painted onto the walls are a stark change to the clay sidewalks of the strip mall. “And before you say he wouldn’t… It’s happened to my cousin. It’s possible.”

Madison frowns. “But that can’t be the only reason, right? I mean, we all know someone who has been rejected. It’s usually not the end of the world for them.”

“He’s a famous streamer,” you blurt, and you’re thankful the shop is as empty as it is. Just the words themselves sound fake.

Madison snorts. “Like, gaming? That’s what’s holding you back? He’s a gamer?”

“I don’t care that he’s a gamer!” You hiss. “I care that he has a loyal fanbase who more than likely all want to be his soulmate!”

“You can’t say that for certain,” Madison says. “I mean, everyone knows about the soulmate system. If you watch someone and don’t feel the pull, you know they aren’t your soulmate, right? So why wouldn’t they accept you?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “I’m just scared. I mean, he’s got this huge following and everything and I’m just me. I work in a yogurt shop for goodness’ sake.”

You head into the back to grab more cups, and the bell rings, signaling a new customer.

“Welcome to Yogurt Barn, what can I get for you?” Madison’s customer service voice pricks your ears.

You sift through the boxes to find the smaller cups and listen to the customer’s order. “Can I have a strawberry cone?”

Your string pulls, that same familiar voice filling your head, not on the screen but once again just a few feet away. He’s infiltrating your life, so close you could reach out and touch him, but it’s such a terrifying thought that you set down the cups.

You tear off your apron, and run into the break room to grab a water and calm yourself down.

It’s ten minutes before Madison comes back to find you. “Hey, are you okay? You disappeared.”

You take a deep breath and stare at the poster on the wall. It’s brightly colored, with a walking yogurt cup waving and reminding employees to wash their hands before scooping. “That was him. The guy— the pull— Dream— I can’t— Does he know? Is he following me?”

“It’s okay,” Madison runs her hand down your back. “It’s okay. He isn’t following you. When the pull starts it tends to draw the couple together until they meet. He probably doesn’t know it’s you.”

You nod and take your breaths in gulps. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right. You’re right.”

“Why don’t you go home early, okay?”

Dream is live again.

Fresh out of the shower, you pull a t-shirt over your body and burrow into your blankets. Earbuds in, you try to focus on the sound of his voice, ignoring every ounce of anxiety that’s been riddling your mind.

“Hi, chat. I’m gonna practice speed runs again. I think George is joining soon.”

You open the chat and scroll through the emotes, clicking the ones you like and sending them, just to calm yourself down.

[kylo donated $5: did you find your soulmate?]

Dream laughs. The sound makes your chest tighten with longing. Your fingers ache. “Actually, I went to the place I felt the pull again. I dunno what I was expecting, but they didn’t show up. But after that, I was running some errands and I felt it, chat! I felt the pull again.”

He trails off while his character starts to look for a lava pool. “I feel discouraged but I don’t want to like, chase them, you know? I don’t want to scare them off.”

You click the donation tab again.

[y/n donated $1: maybe your soulmate heard your voice and got scared of you because they watch your videos.]

It’s not the total truth, but it might help him sleep better. You don’t want him to feel discouraged, but you can’t bring yourself to follow the pull.

“That could be a possibility…” Dream crafts a portal and sends his character through. “But I wish I could talk to them. I wish I could tell them that it’s okay. Like, we don’t have to rush into anything.”

[y/n donated $1: They probably wish they could talk to you too]

“Thanks, Y/n.” He sucks in a breath as soon as he says your name. The Minecraft pause screen appears and the sound of a discord call can be heard.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Something about him saying your name just solidified everything. Your arms feel hot and cold all at once, like you’ve just been thrown in a frozen lake. He has to be feeling it too.

“Chat, I gotta go, okay? I’ll try to stream again soon.”

“Hello?” A sleepy voice comes in through Dream’s earbuds.

“George! Their name is Y/n!” Dream is so excited, his voice raising a few octaves as he talks. “Someone donated with that name and I felt like, super weird. I didn’t feel it until I said the name out loud.”

“That’s crazy,” George says, monotone but supportive. “Do you think the dono is actually them?”

“I don’t know,” Dream scrolls through their past donos and quickly screenshots each one. “I mean, they definitely could be.”

He shares the pictures in their group chat.

George hums. “It sounds like they’re trying to tell you how they feel without admitting that it’s them. Where did you say you felt a pull?”

“At the park, and at the yogurt shop down the road.”

“So go there again. Maybe all they need is a little courage. If you feel the pull this time, you should follow it.”

Dream thinks about it for a moment before finally agreeing. He changes the subject to their next jackbox stream, and George is now happily talking about how they’re going to team up against Sapnap.

He goes into Sapnap’s room that night. He sits on his desk chair while Sapnap sits cross legged on his bed, scrolling through his phone. “Do you wanna get frozen yogurt tomorrow? My treat.”

“Hell yeah!”

The new strawberry-lemonade custard is a hit. Not only are the colors aesthetically pleasing for the teenagers who want a nice snapchat story, but there was a promotional coupon in the mail that has people lining up to the door.

“It’s not even that good,” you tell Madison while the two of you are on break. You’re both using a sample spoon to try out the new summer flavors, and in your opinion, strawberry-lemonade isn’t even the best one. “Blood orange is better.”

Madison wrinkles her nose. “No, blue raspberry is best.”

“It’s sour, though,” you say.

“Guys! Break’s over and you’ve got a line!” Your manager stares disapprovingly at the cups of custard the both of you are indulging in.

“We’re coming.” You toss the cup into the trash and walk out, scratching at the sudden itch on your pinky finger.

Pulling on your gloves, you grab a scoop and address the first customer, “Welcome to Yogurt Barn.”

“Hi!”

You still like you’ve been caught stealing on camera. You look up, hand clutching the scoop so tightly you can feel the cold steel through your gloves.

It’s Dream.

It’s him. He’s tall, and his hair is a sunshine blond, dark at the roots and curling beneath his ears. And his freckles… little spots all across his cheeks so endearing that you get a little distracted staring at them.

Then he’s talking, and you have to focus on his jade-green eyes, not his lips, which are a warm pink. “It’s you.”

You blink. Fear strikes your spine and you drop the scoop. “I gotta go.”

“Wait!” Dream calls, just as Madison shouts your name.

You exit out the back door again. Your heart is pounding against your chest, ribs expanding, and all you can hear is the sound of your name coming out of his lips, just last night through a screen.

“Y/n?” Only it’s in front of you, a few feet away, and he’s searching your eyes for any reassurance that you won’t run away again. That you won’t reject him. “That’s your name right?” He keeps talking, a nervous smile flitting across his face. “The donos? That was you?”

You can see the string now, red and blaring, tightening with each step Dream takes. It’s signing off your fate, for better or for worse, and you can’t fathom why he’s trying so hard, why he cares so much.

It’s hot in Florida but you feel cold, chilled to the bone. You straighten up. You figure you owe it to him to look up in the eye.

He leaves you breathless, eyes shining in the sun. “It was me,” you say. “You’re Dream.”

“Clay, actually,” he says. His smile widens, and it’s magnificently bold. He’s triumphant, just from your reply, and that alone gives you the slightest bit of hope.

“Clay,” you say. “I’m— I’m not— I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You don’t have to be.” Clay is quick to reply, hands open and palms up. It’s a complete surrender — putting it all in your hands. “We don’t have to announce it. We don’t have to be anything at all, if you need time. But I would like to be your friend. If— If that’s okay.”

But you want to be close to him. The draw of your strings pulling each other closer and closer makes you want to wrap your arms around him. If he hasn’t rejected you, maybe you can do this. “I– I want to be more than friends, but I’m terrified of you rejecting me. I’m afraid of the string getting cut.”

Clay set his brows, “I won’t let that happen. We’re connected. Fate, ya know?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, and it’s a sigh of relief. “Okay. Maybe I’ll give you my number?”

“I’ll give you mine!” Clay is animated, holding out his hand for your phone. “That way you can text me when you’re ready.”

The red string shines like gold in the Florida sun, and when your fingertips brush, it burns with a satisfying warmth.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken x you #mcyt au #dreamwastaken au #mcyt x reader #mcyt fluff

[yoonieper]

Pecattiphila— Part 1 | PJM

Pecattiphilia is the sexual arousal from performing an act one believes is a sin.

✽ Pairing: Jimin x Reader

✽ Genre: Angel Au, angst, tiny bit of fluff, tiny bit of smut

✽ Rated: S for Can You See Me?

✽ Series Warnings: This series will include discussion of religious aspects such as the afterlife and concepts of heaven and hell (There are no direct ties to any specific religion besides the mention of angels and demons— all aspects of religion was created by me for this series), this series includes a lot of violence (sometimes graphic depictions) and possible gore, and mentions of sin (particularly revolving around sexual topics)

✽ Chapter Specific Warnings: Jimin might be a sadist or masochist (who knows 🥴), that man finds a little too much pleasure in taking down bad guys if you get my drift, near death experience, y/n’s pretty scared by it (possible anxiety warning), Jimin’s got some spicy thoughts about y/n (nsfw), he can get kinda detailed, Jimin gets very very sick (so basically warning— sick symptoms ahead), also Jimin speaks about sin a lot and repenting, these warnings are so random omg

✽ Word Count: 6.3k

✽ Summary: Jimin is sent to watch over you and as the years go by he gets more and more curious and sometimes just wishes he could get to know you. But he knows that’s forbidden. However, a freak accident somehow causes Jimin and your eyes to meet for the first time with purpose. He knows it shouldn’t happen but he doesn’t want to break away. He wants you to look at him, wants you to touch him, wants you to be with him. The problem is none of this should have happened in the first place… what’s happening to him?

✽ Now Playing…: Sin City by Chrishan (slowed)

✽ Author’s Note: This series is very precious to me as this is the first bts au I created! It got pushed back as I was working on another project at the time, that still needs to come out here on tumblr, but ehhh enough about that! Let's keep the train rolling! I'm also using this for @btscreatorscorner Summer Games event (AU challenge)

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D

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Jimin stared at the mundane creature that stood before him. It’s blob of a body seemed to have no end nor beginning— it was an amalgamation of darkness. Eyes covered the slimy creature almost as if it had swallowed them itself with the way they were floating in the mass of darkness and arms that hung low on its body.

A sight like this would send any mortal running for their lives, but for Jimin, this was any other Thursday afternoon.

Jimin couldn’t help the smirk as he watched the tormented creature.

Power.

I love it.

Some may call him a masochist or even a sadist, but he always enjoyed these fights. The work, the battle, the pain, and then at the end when he can sink a weapon of his choice and crucify these demonic creatures, fills him up with so much excitement, it’s almost sexual. He likes to think of it more as a guilty pleasure than anything.

This monstrosity was just an average Joe compared to some of the things he’s seen. Jimin has had to deal with a lot worse in his career, but this wasn’t just gonna be a walk in the park, no, this would take a little work to bring this creature down. At least there was that.

You wanted more.

I did.

Jimin took out his handle. The creature noticed he was getting ready to attack and began to charge at him, it’s comically long arms dangled behind it as it made its way toward him. He quickly spun it so certain pictures matched up, the faint clicks only audible to Jimin’s ears, letting him know exactly which combination it was on without having to look down once. Suddenly a beam of light shaped like a sword came.

A sword will do. It didn’t deserve anything more than that.

Jimin quickly flew up and the battle was on. It didn’t take long but the creature was a little more than what Jimin expected. That still didn’t stop the fact that a couple slashes from his sword and a few shots from smgs the creature began losing its shape, nothing more than a gargling blob needing to be but out of its misery.

He stood over its form. A quick jab of his sword right where its face used to be was enough to end it all. He smirked as a bright white light filled the endless void and the screams of the creature sent shivers down his body. It happens everytime.

As the adrenaline started to fade, Jimin was shocked to feel a slight sting coming from his arm. He looked down and low and behold, somewhere in the battle he was scratched by the creature. It wasn’t too big and honestly it was a little impressive that he got away with just this considering what he was up against.

The slight blood from the wound did make him realize the extent of the mess. The black goop was everywhere. This void was endless but there were traces of it in any direction he looked.

You like it.

…

Jimin could sit here and monitor to make sure this was the last of the creature but he had priorities, and those priorities were you.

You.

Y/L/N Y/N.

You.

In earth time it has been a little over 5 years since he first started watching over you. It’s been an interesting few years to say the least and he’s honestly loved every second of it. He looked forward to each day he got to spend with you. And now… now he has to hurry to catch you before you get home.

Jimin’s about to save your life. He’s looked forward to this day ever since the itinerary was given to him.

Before Jimin knew it, he was flying high above the city of Seoul. He looked down at his device to see the time was approaching. His heart skipped a beat feeling the butterflies in his stomach.

You’re nervous.

Shut up…

But it was true, he was nervous to do this. And not even for the reason he should be.

Down below was you, walking happily, listening to music. Today was just one of those days that the sun was shining brighter, the birds seemed chirpier, and the stars aligned to make this day the greatest. It was a Friday, it was payday, and you just got a promotion. Today was your day, and a great one at that.

You smiled as you looked down at your phone, humming along to your favorite tune while you were looking for your next song. The world around you seemed to disappear as you continued to walk down the sidewalk. It came as a complete shock, and honestly put a damper on your mood, when you felt the graze of someone’s shoulder, making you drop your phone from the force.

At first you just stared, completely taken aback, but anger quickly boiled up within your system and you turned around to give this rude person a piece of your mind.

“Hey?!” You exclaimed, but all you saw was a guy in a leather jacket and baseball cap. He had turned around slightly and you knew he was looking at you. You could hardly make out his face, and was tempted to chase after him, when suddenly you heard screams.

You quickly turned around to see an out of control car coming straight for you. Time seemed to slow as you were frozen in fear, but it was like magic that the car suddenly changed directions and ended up continuing straight ahead and eventually hitting a wall a little ahead of you.

Your heart was racing, pounding louder than you ever thought possible, because you were this close. The car had been coming straight at you, you were this close to being pinned between that car and a wall.

The thought created a fear that no one should ever experience, especially at such a young age. You were staring your own mortality right in the eye. And what you saw had you moving your feet so quickly, hurrying your way home, anxiety and paranoia increasing with each step that you took.

Jimin was not far behind. He never was.

He could feel how scared you were and he wanted nothing more than to fly down, pick you up, and tell you it’s going to be okay. But he knew his place.

Jimin followed behind until you were scurrying back into your apartment building. You were safe and sound, even if you didn’t feel like it, you just didn’t know he was watching over you. He liked to think that would put a smile on your face in moments where he just wanted to reach out and comfort you.

He floated down, watching you come into your apartment, kick off your shoes, and hurry to your room. He could already feel the overwhelming sense of sadness that let him know you were likely crying. The emotions were too much, both yours and his own, so he flew over to the building across the street and sat on top of the roof, a favorite spot of his to come and think.

Much reflection was needed.

There were so many things wrong with what’s happened to him in the 5 years since he started serving as your guardian. He knew it wasn’t right, that he was just torturing himself by not stopping it sooner.

He shouldn’t even be feeling this way at all. The buzz of giddiness from his intervention earlier still flowed through his body, and it pained him on how erroneous it felt.

In short, these 5 years have given Jimin the opportunity to feel and experience emotions he never thought were possible for him anymore.

He likes her.

No need to spell it out…

But it’s right. It was true. He really did like you. He liked you more than a guardian ever should and that fact has made him question his entire existence and has put him through some extremely complicated and confusing situations over the years.

When he first switched with the P1 angel, he already had considered himself lucky just from seeing your picture. Sure you’re not the first beautiful person that he’s looked over, but from the get go Jimin knew there was something different here. It did not take him long to understand what it was.

You made his heart flutter in a way he’s felt so many of his humans experience when looking at people that they care about to that extent.

You were funny. He would often join you during your tv binges and your commentary would have him on the floor dying of laughter. You were so caring and nice and…

Do you really need to go on?

Why are you so loud today?

Anyway, it’s really no surprise that Jimin was suddenly getting butterflies anytime you accidentally looked in his direction.

But that was exactly the problem.

This wasn’t allowed at all.

At. All.

None of it, from the rules of H.E.A.V.E.N and his own personal rules he has with his team, none of this has been allowed. It really shouldn’t even be possible in the first place.

The relationship between guardians and humans is one that is very sacred. It is something that is meant to be kept strictly professional, for the reasons of 1) the inevitable end that guardians bring to humans and any feelings would make the process a lot more complicated 2) unless for emergency purposes or a human is nearing death, and type of interaction between a guardian and human is strictly prohibited.

He shouldn’t be anywhere near this territory, but even though he’s far from human, the remnants still remain buried deep within and there’s somethings that he can’t get rid of no matter how hard he tries.

At least that’s what he’s been telling himself these past few years.

As soon as Jimin came onto the harsh reality that you will never look at him at all, he tried his best to demean his feelings as nothing more than what humans feel toward certain celebrities.

Of course in the hypothetical sense, if for some reason he wasn’t who he was and was a normal human, if you met in normal circumstances, would he date you? Absolutely, no questions asked. He would say yes in a heartbeat. But reality sets in and he remembers that there are rules that he must abide by plus everything in the universe that just wouldn’t allow for that to happen in the first place, it really just amounts to a fantasy.

He will watch and admire from afar. Feelings are hard to control, as much as he’s tried his best to, that human side of him will never go away. But it’s ok.

You’re not the first human he’s liked. Yes to the extent his feelings go, you’re the first he’s ever liked this much, but he’s dealt with a fluttery heart or two and by now knows exactly what to do. Sure you were also the first that he’s had to look over but he just needs to do what he normally does. Maintain that professional distance.

You were a dream. He can live with that.

That’s what you keep telling yourself.

Stop. I’m serious.

Anyway, it’s not that interactions between humans and Angels were banned completely, it’s just that’s where the personal side of his problem comes in.

Like he’s mentioned, despite him being an Angel or any of the human reincarnates, some human qualities still continued to follow them into this new life. One of them being um well…

It wasn’t uncommon during breaks that Angel teams would typically come to Earth and hang out. Most Angels weren’t shy about intermingling with humans. It’s something that’s frowned upon by the P1 Angels as they honestly see everything that human reincarnates do as primitive and sinful. But true to humans, their words did not stop most teams from having some fun the minute they got some time off.

However, Jimin’s team was an exception. A promise with the boys he cherishes more than anything always kept him far away from any of those feelings.

It started when they were relatively new into the field. They made a promise to stay away from humans as much as they could in order to maintain focus on their careers. But it was much much later that they realized the effectiveness of that promise.

He’s not trying to brag (he’s bragging), but Jimin’s team was one of the most successful of all the human reincarnates. They had some of the highest rates when it comes to their statistics, happy long living humans, who went on to continue to live happy lives in their next.

It was later that they reinstated this promise and it’s importance. They believe that their low human interaction and abstinence was a reason for their success.

Jimin’s never had an issue with this, not once, if anything he sometimes thought of other teams similar to the P1 angels. He used to judge why they would partake in such sinful acts when they have a job to do.

He’s never been tested of his loyalty to that promise as hard as he’s been over the course of looking over you.

He’s had urges. That’s not new. Under all the special powers and wings, it’s the shell of what was once human. It happens. He just never realized how strong those urges could get sometimes…

Jimin had cleverly named this rough period of time the boyfriend era. He could already feel his cheeks lighting up at the mere thought of it.

Everything about that time made him so embarrassed and honestly a little ashamed. He just couldn’t mind his own damn business.

You had gotten a boyfriend some years ago and he’s abashed to admit this, but he’s been there to see and hear everything. It would be different if it was accidental, but no, this was a different story.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to join you in your apartment from time to time as he liked “hanging out” with you. The first time it happened, it was you, your boyfriend, and him (unknown to you of course). Jimin had wanted to watch the movie you both planned to see in your apartment, he had been so into it, that it came as a major surprise when he looked over to see things were quickly escalating on the other side of the couch.

Jimin normally would leave, give you the privacy you deserved, never should he have been that nosy just because of his feelings, but seeing you like that for some reason kept him in place as he watched as things got progressively more and more heated. You were so pretty, so beautiful, and the sounds you would make as your boyfriend would please you, had blood rushing to more places than one.

It was sin, so much sin.

Everything about what happened was wrong and to make matters worse, that wasn’t the last time he stayed to watch. Far from it actually. Despite everything, every single thing that was telling him he shouldn’t be doing this, the urge… It kept getting worse.

He never even saw anything most of the time, you would always make your way to your bedroom and he at least had some dignity to never follow, but there was one time that he was right on the couch again but you both never moved it. At that point he reached a point he never thought he would.

The urge, the urge to just reach out and…

He wanted you bad.

He realized this before but, it felt at that moment that all the sexual frustration he’s experienced throughout his life as an angel had come overflowing and he even wholeheartedly considered making himself appear, throwing off your boyfriend and having you to himself because it was something he knew he could do so much better. He knew he could make you feel so good like he knew you deserved. He wanted it to be his name you would scream, his name you’re calling out for, he wanted to be the one that was making you feel good.

But it was a fantasy.

He knew that.

Despite how hard it has been, never in a million years would it happen.

He can dream. It’s fine. He knows his place in all of this, but never would you look at him like that. You can’t even see him for that to happen…

Still he was a little too happy when you broke up with him about 2 years after your relationship started.

The most excitement he will get in a while was what happened today.

He felt his whole body light up at the thought. The graze of your shoulder against his was enough to fuel those fantasies and keep him happy for a long time. Was he fine with that? He was, he genuinely was.

Part of him used to think it was some sort of cruel fate for putting him in this position. But now he sees it as more of a blessing. It makes him happy knowing it’s him in charge of protecting you, serving you, and making your life as bright as it can be.

At least in that way he has trust you’ll live a good life as long as he’s around.

He’ll make sure of it.

Jimin smiled and flew over to your apartment, easily passing through the wall and making his way toward your bedroom. His mood solumned as he felt his heart ache as the soft cries grew louder and louder as he got closer. You were in bed, your face buried in your pillow as the traumatizing event kept replaying in your mind.

It was in these moments that it was hardest to resist reaching out and talking with you. He wanted to tell you everything would be alright as long as he’s here, and you have nothing to fear.

But alas…

He took a seat on the side of your bed and gently stroked your arm. You couldn’t feel anything and he couldn’t either but the effect seemed to calm you down for some reason that was not his doing. He wanted to pretend that it was though.

Jimin went over to the other side of your bed and laid next to you. Your teary eyes were staring right into his, but you didn’t know that. You were looking right through him. He brought his hand up to your cheek and began caressing it slowly.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered.

It was sometimes in moments like these that made him feel like maybe it was better that your worlds can’t really interact. Even though he knew it was because of him that you’re still here, it was also him for the reason that you’re crying.

Fear.

It was him even though it wasn’t. It’s an excuse he likes to give himself for a reason why you wouldn’t like him even if you did ever meet. He knows you would be scared.

Jimin just continued to comfort you, be there for you, in a time he can already tell that will stick with you for a long time.

The hours seemed to pass and before he knew it you had gone to shower, leaving him on your couch, blankly staring at the tv screen. The show continued to play even with your absence, one that he knows you’ll regret when you get back.

Jimin sighed and got up to look out the window. He tuned out the TV and the only remaining noise he could hear was the city nightlife that came with Seoul and the brief hums of nature from the wildlife outside. It was calming, so calming it was enough to lull anyone to sleep, and knowing you, the minute you got back from your shower and sat down you would be out. Even Jimin was getting tired, and he didn't get tired. Today’s just been a weird day.

A good and bad weird.

You nearly died, but Jimin got to touch you for the first time which was nice.

Of course that’s what you’re focusing on.

How could I not?

You don’t think it’s concerning?

…

You know what you need.

He sighed knowing it was true.

Watching something 24/7 can easily get to anybody, angels alike. It takes a lot of dedication in order to stay alert all the time, while also having to follow them around for more mundane things. It can easily start feeling a bit monotonous after some time. That’s not exactly what Jimin’s experiencing now, but he knew he was getting overwhelmed being around you all the time, and for his own sake, there was a method they used to get over this.

A break.

He didn’t like to do this too often, and especially now that he’s looking over you, he would always be worried that something terrible could happen without him being there. However, with the way he’s feeling, getting away is exactly what he needed.

Some time to take a breather and repent and purify from the sins he’s committed all thanks to you.

Jimin looked down at his wrist, the word ‘sin’ seemingly shining because of his guilty conscience. His record has never been so tainted…

He quickly figured tomorrow would be the best day to leave for a second. His assignment had just been carried out, they would not give him another this soon. Though it was possible, Jimin knew he had to go.

He needed to get you out of his head. Once and for all. Though he’s not sure exactly how long you will live, he's got to be 100% in this if he’s going to see this through.

Yep. Tomorrow…

If you can make it that long.

Stop.

So much sin.

Please don’t do this.

If only the others could see you now. They would be disappointed.

The words hurt because he knew it was true. Jimin hadn’t really told the rest of his team about the extent his feelings for you go. Reason? It was simple. He didn’t want to be judged, by them, the other angels, literally everyone.

What he’s feeling shouldn’t even be possible really. He knew they wouldn’t understand, or worse, separate him from you.

It’s just better to ride it out until he’s safely taken you to get judged. The feelings will fade and things will go back to normal. No need to make it a thing.

They would see the sin.

Why are you doing this to me?

You need to see yourself. It’s sad honestly.

Jimin wanted to scream. Why does this need to be so difficult? He gazed at the night sky.

No matter what you say, this is wrong. You should not feel like this.

I know.

And he did.

You need to tell someone. This should not be possible.

But that would make things complicated…

You’re broken and you know that.

It was true.

I am.

Talk to someone.

…

Jimin thought about it. It was right in the sense that everything he’s experiencing shouldn’t be happening at all, and just to be safe, maybe it might be a good idea to get evaluated. He should have done it a long time ago, it’s just… He’s scared. Scared for you, scared for himself, scared for his team. He doesn’t know what they might say or do.

But it might be something. Either way he’s screwed.

Just do it.

For the first time since he started feeling this way he genuinely considered it.

But then there was you.

Like always.

Like always.

Jimin turned around to see you had gotten out of the shower. Your towel hung haphazardly around your form, hair tied up with a towel, and your skin still glistening from the water.

Fuck.

Calm down.

He knew you were just out here to catch the new episode of the show you were watching, and shower time had run into the start of the episode. Nothing about it was weird, but Jimin couldn’t help but laugh at the cruelty of it all. It’s like the world wants him to lose his mind.

Jimin smiled. It’s almost like you want him to lose his mind.

He chuckled. If only… It was a cute thought.

You were just so pretty it hurts sometimes. Jimin sighed and was about to join you on the couch as this was the show he was watching with you when…

BANG

The loud thud made you jump, but that was nothing in comparison to the scream you let out seeing a body sprawled out on your floor.

What the fuck

What the fuck

WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT THE FUCK?!!!

You clutched onto your towel, frozen in fear, your eyes forced to look at the person in the middle of your living room.

…

The wings.

Suddenly the man that had seemingly collapsed on your floor meant nothing as your eyes focused on the white wings that were protruding from his back.

You would have thought this to be a dream, your traumatic event earlier causing an angel to appear in your sleep, but the beautiful shimmer that the feathers admitted you knew was incapable of your imagination to come up with.

You stood there for what felt like a century waiting for something to happen, anything to happen, but the beautiful creature continued to lay face flat into your floor.

Should you call the police?

Of course, a mystery guy is lying on your floor, you gotta do something…

Would they believe you? You knew that answer imagining the phone call.

But what if you’re in danger? What happens when it wakes up? If it wakes up… But if you don’t you just have a body in your room and if it doesn’t wake up then, what do you do?

With your mind running a million miles an hour you completely forgot you were still just in your towel.

You quickly run and put on your clothes but also use this time to come up with a game plan. When you were done you ran out to your kitchen, and pulling a rapunzel, you grabbed a frying pan and headed back to see that indeed your problem was still there.

Today is just the worst fucking day ever.

You almost died and now you have an angel in the middle of your floor.

It was ironic, almost hilarious. You would laugh about it later, but now…

The realization had tears quickly pooling in your eyes. Suddenly the all too familiar movie series Final Destination was all you could think about. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe it means you’re gonna die. Death was finally catching up to you. The idea was rash but at the time, you really felt like it was your end.

You paced around your living room hoping something would happen. Best chase scenario this is just a really vivid dream and everything will be ok when you wake up, but as the hours passed, with no change, that hope started to dwindle into fear.

What were you gonna do?

With one deep breath you suddenly found yourself on the floor right beside the creature. Maybe you could help? You poked him gently, waiting for anything. Nothing. The adrenaline of the worst case scenario flashed in your mind and it had you hastily flipping him over in hopes of… something.

You stared in awe. He was beautiful. He was too beautiful, beautiful to the point that no human would be capable of. His delicate features were almost too perfect, his plump lips, cute nose, and long brown hair had you in a trance almost.

He was also wearing relatively normal clothes considering the situation. A white short sleeved shirt that was decorated with a few gold accents was draped over his torso, and white flowy pants that were tied together by a piece of fabric. He also wasn’t wearing any shoes oddly enough.

He really just seemed to be peacefully sleeping, and a wave of relief and a bit of worry washed over you as you watched his chest rise and fall slowly. He’s alive.

You lightly stroked his cheek, an urge that came out of nowhere, but a request you fulfilled. Was your eyes playing tricks on you or was he glowing? A soft shimmer seemed to radiate him. Wow.

Suddenly the wings you couldn’t take your eyes off of disappeared and his eyes began to flutter open. You watched with amazement as he slowly opened his eyes, the colors changing rapidly, before settling on a warm brown.

Jimin’s vision was blurry, his eyes taking a minute to adjust before, like an angel of his own, it was you. But what had his heart doing a backflip was the fact that you were staring at him.

It would sometimes happen, your eyes would meet his, without you knowing exactly who you were looking at, but this time it was different. It was like you were looking at him and not through him.

As the rest of the world around him stopped spinning for a second the more and more he came to realize that you were in fact staring at him. This wasn’t a fantasy, not his mind playing tricks on him, you were looking at him, and that was a fucking problem.

Jimin, despite his cloudy brain, sat up quickly, making you shriek and scoot back quickly. He tried his best to ignore the overwhelming nausea he suddenly felt. “You—you can see me?” He struggled to get out, the fucking nausea having him quickly falling back on his back. He didn’t even hear what you said, another mysterious ailment coming over him. His head was killing him.

You watched on the side lines as all of this happened, and you could clearly see the suffering this creature was going through. Even with your heart pounding in your ears, and your hands so shaky they were practically useless, you still found yourself rushing to his side.

“Hey, hey, you ok?” You hurriedly asked. Your hand hovered over his forehead, part of you still scared of what this creature might do. But looking into his hazy eyes, you quickly tossed that fear aside and rested your hand on his head.

He was burning up.

You ran to your bathroom and grabbed a thermometer and came back to check his temperature.

… 45 degrees (113 degrees Fahrenheit)? That can’t be real.

“Y/N…” his voice came out as a whisper but it still had you frozen with shock. He knew your name?

“You can see me?” He gently grabbed a hold of your arm. Your reaction again proved once again that you were 100% aware of his presence here. For some reason his eyes started getting teary quickly, maybe it was the fact that he actually felt like he was dying, but the thought was so nice in a moment like this.

The excitement had him trying to get back up once again, but he was warned the first time. You stared in confusion as he tried lifting himself up, but you saw the look, and suddenly he was sprinting off to your bathroom. You quickly ran after him to find him hunched over your toilet, the distinct sounds of someone throwing up, echoing in your tiny bathroom. It was like an instinct that you ran to join him, gently rubbing his back as he worked himself through it.

Sparing the graphic details, you were basically stuck with him in that bathroom for well over an hour. His temperature, despite it being already to impossible heights, kept rising, sweat was practically pouring off of him. You got ice and tried to cover it with him when the nausea wasn’t as bad. He ended up taking off his shirt somewhere in between, you were too distracted by the pressing situation but later you would come to admire the markings that decorated his skin almost like tattoos.

In one of the down moments, one where you both were sitting next to each other on your bathroom floor, you finally got the courage to ask him his name. After a few deep breaths and his hand grabbing onto yours he told you.

“Jimin.” His voice was hoarse and you could barely understand him, but the name seemed to ring in your head. It suited him perfectly.

You guys, despite spending an hour together, hardly ever really exchanged any words. It was mostly just you running back and forth trying to get as much ice as you could, comforting him when the nausea got too strong, you dabbing his forehead with a washcloth dipped in ice water to keep him cool and wipe away the sweat.

You only knew him for a few hours, but his suffering had you emotional. The moans and cries of pain and exhaustion had you barely holding back tears. There were multiple times he told you he felt like he was dying and the tears that were streaming down his face each time the nausea took over and he was practically sobbing each time he felt another wave of nausea overtake him and he was back to the toilet, had you struggling to keep it together.

You had so many questions about everything before all this, but at that point in time all of them had fled your mind and you just tried your best to be there for him in this moment.

A couple times that night you were worried he might just drop dead. The thought was rash, but if this was a normal human, that concern would be applicable. The only thing that got you through it was when you thought about the pretty wings that once emerged from his back, and well, the fact he just materialized in your living room, reminded you this was not a normal case. This definitely wasn’t a human.

Still though, you silently thanked your mom for teaching you all she knew. She was a nurse and had always lectured you about handling situations like these. Your help wasn’t much but it was what kept your head clear as you tried your best to care for him.

Honestly the only reason you weren’t in your bathroom for longer was the fact he nearly passed out on your shoulder. Exhaustion had taken over and you felt his head on your shoulder start to slide way too quickly. At that point, with the fact it had been at least a solid few minutes since he was gripping the seat, you prayed the nausea had subsided and you slowly helped him to his feet and led Jimin to your room.

You sat him down and quickly ran to get a blanket as you knew your covers would be too warm. By the time you were back he was barely awake, but he still smiled when you dropped the light blanket on top of him.

“Don’t wanna sound weird or anything but while your temperature has stabilized and gone down a bit, it’s still very very high. I honestly suggest maybe taking off your pants, hopefully that will help with keeping you from overheating.”

“Do you mind…. I’m not wearing anything underneath…” His voice was even worse than before.

You were shocked and even a little flustered by his words but you kept your caretaker face on. “I care more about you overheating than anything, I’ll just be careful when I come in tomorrow.”

He nodded slightly before he asked you to turn around. It took a little while but eventually he said you can look and you saw him lying there comfortably, the blanket now covering his form.

You smiled, feeling your heart at ease, before you ran off to get a bucket from your bathroom.

“Okay, so if you feel nauseous again, use this.” You placed it next to him on the floor. “I’ll just be outside in the living room if you need me. I’ll leave the door a little open so I can hear if you need me.” You said softly, seeing his eyes already threatening to fall shut.

You were about to leave when you heard him faintly call for you.

“You’re not staying?” The question seemed loud despite his quiet tone. You felt flustered all over again.

“You were so sad earlier and now with me, you must be exhausted. I feel bad for taking the bed.” You were in fact so exhausted you hardly picked up the fact that he had apparently seen you earlier in the day.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Just rest up and hopefully you feel a little better in the morning.” You rushed out the room before he could ask anymore questions, you were flustered as is.

Once the door was slightly closed and you walked back into the living room, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you sat down on the couch.

The moment away from Jimin had your mind spinning and suddenly all the questions came back to swarm around your head. There was so much that needed to be answered.

You got under the blanket you had brought out here and stared up at your dark ceiling. You wanted so badly to run back in there and pester Jimin with questions, but after these past few hours you know for a fact he wasn’t in the condition to answer any of them.

To not drive yourself crazy you decided to just hold off on them until he’s well enough. That still didn’t stop two major questions from dancing around in your head.

Why was he here, and were you gonna be ok?

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#bts #btscreatorscorner #jimin #angst #bts fanfic #jimin x reader #bts fanfction #jimin angst #angel au #bts angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts jimin #bts au #bts fluff #bts reactions #bccsg

[smelted-applejuice]

Platonic irl SBI reacting to reader wearing stuff like this when they tell them to get ready to go to the store?

Photo not mine, photo found on Google

Pairings; SBI x Reader (PLATONIC)  Pronouns; not mentioned Desc; Their reactions !

went outta my comfort zone to write this, this might be the only/last time I write irl phil :o, I also didn’t do Technoblade bc he doesn't like irl fanfictions of him! (Requests are open)

Phil

(+) Out of everyone he’s the least judgmental ! (+) His first reaction was shock, but would quickly brush it off. (+) Doesn’t say anything at first until they’re actually in public, he just has never seen someone so decked out in dark and pastel colors before in real life (+) “It looks good, but can I ask why you dressed like that?” (+) He’s so respectful with his questions and is truly interested in what you fancy in dress wear. (+) He ignores the weird looks you guys got in public and if someone said something and you’re too nervous to speak, he would speak for you and defuse the situation as much as possible. (+) He would make sure you felt comfortable and would hold hair pieces if you wanted LMAO (+) Overall pretty chill!

Wilbur

(+) He’s so confused, but would deffo roll with it after asking questions. (+) He would ask how you even felt comfortable, but doesn’t mean it in one of those rude and off putting ways. (+) “Do you even feel comfortable? The material looks scratchy” (+) You and Wilbur still went out and around town while you looked as swag as you do (+)  After an hour, Wilbur grew accustomed to seeing a light pastel blob in the corner of his eyes LMFAOO (+) He lets you handle any questions unless you come uncomfortable and makes an excuse to leave (+) Overall just concerned if he’s going insane every time he sees a blob of colors next to him.

Tommy

(+) Shock and confusion are two words that best describe how he’s feeling. (+) he’s shocked because he’s never seen such confidence in someone and he would love to have more of it (+) and shock because he’s never seen someone dress like that before, at least in real life he hadn’t (+) thought people who dress like that were weird (+) “What the fuck, [YourName?]” He’d ask with breathy laughs. (+) Let you answer questions on your own and laughed at the dumb ones (+) Actually offers to hold any extra pieces that may start to bother you throughout the day. (+) Overall he’s just a very questionable dude when it comes to your choice in colors, but went with it !!

#Dream smp x reader #irl sbi x reader #sbi x reader #x reader #mcyt x reader

[inkbyajm]

Bottled Up

pairing: C.H. x fem!reader

category: angst, fluff

warnings: yelling, crying, insecurities

word count: 2.2k

notes: apologies for the tardy post, i wrote and rewrote and re-rewrote the whole angsty scene because i didn’t know if it was written well enough, i wanted to make sure you guys could feel the emotions that i vividly visualised and tried my best to put into words  :( i did send it to a friend to check and she seemed to like it, so let me know how it goes for you, my loves. the angst for this one was inspired by 2 different songs - hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi and i will run from you by cemeteries. it’s not necessarily about the lyrics, but more about the melody and the mood you get into listening to them (they go in order). give those a listen :) also, beware of the upcoming philosophy references, i did study philosophy last year, hopefully no one gets triggered lmao

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Is a person’s scent something a normal human being picks up on before taking into account the rest of their features? Would a normal human being remember said scent and be able to recognise it in a crowd full of strangers? Corpse wasn’t too sure about the answer, but one thing he did know, is that she smelled delicately sweet, like cherry blossoms, and that ever since he had noticed it during their game night a few weeks ago, he simply couldn’t let it go. It was intoxicating, but in a calming way. 

━

Corpse and (Y/N) each lay on their beds in their own homes, going into the third hour of their call. He couldn’t exactly fall asleep, so he had decided to see what his dear friend was up to, and even though she was this close to succumbing to sleep, she said nothing and stayed up to keep his busy mind company.

“Okay, hot topic: what do you think about soulmates? More specifically the romantic type?” the girl asked, not knowing how much of a risqué question it was. How was he supposed to answer?

“I don’t really have an opinion on it. Why?”

“I read Symposium by Plato the other day and it presented an interesting concept about human beings. Basically-” Of course she fucking read philosophical books. How were they even having a conversation with each other? Why were they even friends? She was on a whole other level of smart. “-so this guy says that humans were like androgynous blobs, so they’d come in two sets of everything a normal person has. But those humans were so powerful, the gods were literally shaking in their robes, so Zeus decided to cut everyone into two to weaken them. But then humans became so miserable, they spent their entire lives searching for their other halves. In the end, Zeus kinda felt bad and said fuck it, I’ll give y’all dicks and vaginas for every time you wanna hug each other. And that’s the oldest explanation there is about the idea of soulmates.” she sighed, finished with her rant.

“That was...not at all the story I expected to hear.” she heard him mumble on the other side of the call. “Yeah, Greek philosophers were up to some reeal freaky things, you would have loved them,” he laughed at her joke, “I honestly think it’s cute. Not the whole cutting people into two thing, but like, longing for someone and then finding them because you finally feel complete. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a prince in shining whatever to sweep me off my feet. But it does sound nice, that ideal comfort, a person you’re just...meant to be with, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence that neither of them really minded, before it was Corpse’s turn to ask the second bold question of the night. “Have you found that person yet? Your soulmate?”

She’s never thought about it before, but she hasn’t really thought about soulmates that much either, it was a spontaneous thought she had said out loud. “I’m not sure, actually. (B/F/N) could be one, I guess.” (Y/N) shrugged in return. Wasn’t she going to ask him about it? She probably didn’t care that much. Understandable.

“My favourite quote about love is «You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.». It’s by Sam Keen, the American philosopher. It maay be the hopeless romantic in me shining through, but I do very much agree with his statement.” Did this mean anyone could have a chance with her despite their fuckups? So if he were to try, would she-?

“Obviously, there are some things that just can’t be ignored or avoided, but at that point it’s preferences and personal tolerance. Depends on the person, ya know?” she swiftly added, unaware of the effect it had on him. Sick. Some people were just meant to rot alone.

The final question was posed by (Y/N). She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at all curious. This little crush of hers had been steadily growing with every hang out, every laugh, every hug and every glance. There are rarely ever moments where one could casually discuss a topic this personal with friends, at least there weren’t with friends one had feelings for. This was the perfect opportunity.

“Corpse?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever been in love?” her voice was soft, her approach gentle.

“Well, I’ve been in relationships before, so I guess, yeah? It’s been so long, I don’t even know what love feels like anymore.” he let out a breath resembling a chuckle. Lamest fucking answer ever. But it was true. He hadn’t thought about love in that way in quite a while.

“A lot of people describe it as having an intense range of overwhelming feelings. Lightheadedness, slight shakiness, heart palpitations, some people have even reported losing their appetite. Crazy how human bodies work, huh? Oh! Speaking of chemicals-”

She had continued on to ramble about...chemistry? Eyes? Corpse couldn’t really hear what she was saying anymore, let alone concentrate on her words, as he pieced everything that’s been happening for the past few months together. The nauseating feeling. The pounding of his heart so fast it felt like he was about to die. The urge to make as little eye contact with her as possible, because otherwise he’d turn into a furnace. The obsession with her perfume, like he was some fucking creep. The fool was falling in love. And it was at that moment that everything had come crumbling down.

━

(Y/N) and Corpse hadn’t talked for a couple of weeks. Or rather (Y/N) messaged the 23 year old many times, but he’d either claim to be busy or just not answer at all. There were two possible reasons for the sudden lack of contact: he was indeed busy with his musical projects and couldn’t allow himself to be distracted; or something much more serious was going on. It didn’t matter, for she was already in her car, on her way to his apartment.

Arriving at her destination, she used the spare key he gave her months ago, a sign of absolute trust, and allowed herself into his humble abode. Silence reigned in her friend’s residence. She thought maybe he had gone somewhere, and though that was unlikely, it wasn’t unprecedented. The door to his recording room was closed, and while she was tempted to check if he was in there, she refrained from doing so, knowing that specific room was not to be entered unless he was around to give permission.

“Corpse?” she called out just to make sure. There was no response for a few minutes, which made her assume she had the place for herself, until she heard a door open behind her. Turning around, she saw his figure emerge from said recording room in a white t-shirt and black sweatpants, his curly hair disheveled.

“Hey, how are you d-”

“Why are you here?” he spoke flatly, interrupting her. “Well- You weren’t, um, answering your messages or any of my calls, so I thought something had happened.” she replied, suddenly nervous, fiddling with the rings on her fingers. “Nothing happened. I told you I was busy.”

The air around them seemed colder as tensions rose. (Y/N) could tell he was irritated, but she couldn’t exactly figure out why. She had never seen this side of him before. “Okay. Tell you what, I assume you haven’t had dinner yet, so why don’t I go ahead and start cooking something up while you-”

“Get out.”

She blinked a few times, not quite registering the words that had just left his mouth. “Sorry?” Her voice was quiet. She was taken off guard.

“Are you deaf? I said get. the fuck. OUT.”

Corpse shouted the last word, making her flinch in what appeared to be fear. Good. Run away while you still can. Heart pounding, (Y/N) took a second to remind herself whom she was speaking to. “I see that you’re angry, but at least give me a reason why-”

“You want a reason? I just don’t fucking WANT you here!” Anger grew inside of him like a tumor, but it wasn’t intended for her. She had simply been caught in a storm that had been building up for years. “Do you understand that?! I can’t fucking be around you without feeling like I’m going to EXPLODE.”

His words hit her like paintballs. They were only words, plain and simple, but they dug deeper and deeper into her skin with each hit, until, eventually, it broke. Eyes burning, she felt the tears slowly welling up in them.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” her own voice grew louder with frustration, but mostly, confusion.

“Maybe because I can? Because I’m a goddamn asshole?” 

“Don’t say that.”

“How?! How can I not say it when it’s the truth!” He wanted to stop. His mind told him to cease whatever it was that he was doing. However, blinded with resentment towards himself, he only spilled words he would regret after it was too late. 

“I can’t function like a normal fucking human being. I can’t be a good friend, son, or whatever the fuck else, and I sure as hell can’t love you.”

The paintballs had turned into a singular sword. A very long, very sharp sword that had found itself plunged deep inside her chest. How did he found out? When? Had she been too obvious? Had she been pushy? Clingy? Way out of line? The woman before him was unable to conceal her shock, as tears came rushing down her hot cheeks. Her voice brittle, she tried defending herself. She couldn’t leave it at that. She had to try. Try to have him see reason. “You don’t love me, that’s fine. But you didn’t have to deliver it this way-”

“But I did.” breathless with fury, Corpse clenched his fists so tight they had turned cold, yet they were still trembling. “You can get so naïve and dumb, you won’t understand things unless they’re spelled out nice and fucking bold for you.”

He closed with (Y/N) until their noses nearly touched. He noticed the way she silently shook, her eyes which shed endless tears never leaving his gaze. Unable to make a single sound, she felt the man’s hot breath on her face, his aura domineering.

“Now get. out.”

Her body wouldn’t cooperate as she just stood there. Staring back at him, her inner brows raised. Corpse wanted to hug her. Envelop her trembling figure with his and tell her he was sorry, that he meant none of it, that he had lost his mind. But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. And with his own tears threatening to spill, he created a distance between them. He needed her gone.

“Leave! GO!”

His yelling was enough to jolt (Y/N) out of her trance, and, in a hurry, she sprinted towards the entrance. The door closed behind her, she felt a sudden urge to fill her lungs with much needed air. She jumped at the resounding scream that emanated from deep within his soul, letting out all of his pent-up rage.

Feet carrying her all the way to her car parked outside of the building, the young woman managed to climb in, and this was the queue for her body to break down. The night was young. The street empty. No one around to hear her long-lasting wailing. She clutched the steering wheel for support, fingers wrapping around the leather in a tight grip. A headache was creeping up from the back of her skull. Her ears pulsated in response to the heavy pounding of her heart. Clumsily, (Y/N) inserted the key into the ignition, felt around for the gear stick, and drove away. She didn’t know where she was going or how long it was going to take to get there. She needed to get out.

What went wrong? When did it go wrong? She couldn’t help but feel guilty, feel at fault. She had never seen that side of him before. He had never treated her that way before.

It was the hugs, wasn’t it? He had to have noticed the way she held on for a second too long to enjoy the smell of his cologne. Her vision blurred as she resumed softly weeping, her salty tears staining her top. Or it might have been the touchiness, she would practically glue herself to him during their movie nights. Unaware of both her actions and surroundings, (Y/N)’s breathing quickened, becoming ragged. Maybe he didn’t like the way she called him three times a week. Her hands were slowly losing control over the wheel, over the vehicle she was driving. She invaded his privacy. That was definitely it. Fuck. How could she have been so damn blind, selfish, ignorant, FUCKING STUPID.

Lights. Something was moving towards her- MOVE.

With a sharp turn, she dodged the approaching car just by a hair’s breadth, but as she had avoided one accident, another came just as quickly. 

#corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse x you #corpse husband x you #corpse husband fic

[kurowrites]

"Took the wrong luggage AU" or "hugged the wrong person AU" wangxian please if you are free 🥺🙏

Wei Ying will only take about half of the blame, because really, what men in this day and age walk around with long hair, tied neatly in the back with a clasp? He only knows Wen Ning who does that, and so he sees long black hair and a clasp, and he assumes that this must be his second-favourite cinnamon roll (after Jiang Yanli, of course). He doesn’t really notice that the hair clasp is white instead of Wen Ning’s customary black, because who even pays attention to details such as these?

Wei Ying sneaks behind the bench his poor victim is seated on, and does what he always does when he greets Wen Ning: in one sweeping move, he wraps his arms around Wen Ning’s broad shoulders and leans in to place a big fat kiss on his cheek. As he draws back, he crows, “Ta-dah! It’s your favourite shixiong!”

Only that he’s not greeted with Wen Ning’s usual slightly embarrassed but still enthusiastic reaction to Wei Ying’s overly affectionate greeting, but suddenly has an incredibly stiff, frozen person in his embrace. And that’s when Wei Ying notices the white coat, and the white slacks, and the light blue turtleneck sweater; all items of clothing that Wen Ning very much doesn’t wear. And then the person still in his embrace turns their head just so, and…

Fuck.

This is most definitely not Wen Ning, but a person he has never ever laid eyes on before.

An exceedingly handsome person, his brain unhelpfully adds, with clean-cut, noble features.

And Wei Ying just slobbered all over this exceedingly handsome person that’s very much a complete stranger.

FUCK.

He lets go of the stranger and jumps back in a panic, flitting around the bench as he’s stuttering out an apology. He might have a thick face, sure, but putting his mouth on innocent bystanders is a bit much even for him. And this man very much looks as if he isn’t used to spontaneous make-out sessions. Unasked for ones, at that.

“I am so sorry,” he repeats for the probably twentieth time as he hovers in front of the person he just assaulted. “I thought you were my friend. I would never – I mean, not that you’re not handsome and everything – but I would never just, without asking, you know, smoo–”

At this point, the stranger seems to take pity on him. He fishes out a handkerchief (who in this day and age owns a handkerchief made out of actual cloth?) and delicately wipes his own cheek, right where Wei Ying slobbered all over him.

“It is fine,” the stranger says stiffly. “Be more careful next time.”

“I will,” Wei Ying promises with emphasis. “Believe me, I will.”

They settle into an awkward silence, Wei Ying’s hands fluttering around in the air uselessly as he tries to think of anything else he could do to show that he’s sincere in his apologies. He’s never been very good at being genuinely apologetic, his mouth turning a ‘sorry’ into some kind of joke, and it often only serves to rile people up even more. So he stands there and flounders as the handsome stranger straightens himself out again, until he looks as unruffled as me must have before Wei Ying’s sudden attack.

The stranger then looks up at him with a critical eye, almost as if he’s fearing that Wei Ying might be gearing up for a second attack.

(He’s not.)

“You should go look for your friend,” the stranger says. It’s not exactly impolite, but the words come with a sense of finality.

Please leave so I can bleach this incident from my memory as soon as possible, Wei Ying hears.

“Sorry,” he says again.

And then, because he’s an idiot, he adds, “You have very nice hair.”

Because that’s the first thing Wei Ying noticed about him.

The stranger looks at him with a slightly incredulous gaze, probably wondering why Wei Ying won’t get the memo, and just shut up and leave.

“I tried to grow mine out too,” Wei Ying says, desperately trying to get himself to stop speaking and completely failing. “But it never works out for me.”

He flicks his own sad excuse of a ponytail, the slight curliness of his hair making it look even messier than it already is.

The stranger is quiet for a moment, probably mentally calculating if it’s worth murdering Wei Ying in broad daylight in order to get his peace back. That’s usually the reaction normal people have to him. Only this has to be a new record in how fast Wei Ying managed to get them to this point.

Then, “It suits you.”

The compliment is so unexpected that Wei Ying gapes for a moment.

Which is definitely not his best look.  

“Really?” he asks, incredulous.

“Hn,” the stranger replies, nodding once. As if that was a reasonable question to ask. And a reasonable answer to give.  

“Wow, that’s just sad,” Wei Ying sighs, more to himself than to anyone else. “First I assault you and then I’m even comforted by you about my looks. That’s pathetic, really. Comforted by the victim. And compared to you, I’m just a… blob.”

The stranger looks at him again, possibly starting to wonder if Wei Ying is some kind of dangerous, disturbed individual or out to mug him. Maybe both. Not that Wei Ying has any intention to mug a handsome man. Or anyone at all.

Except for stealing a few kisses, maybe. He could do that, because this stranger is, after all, handsome.

Actually, he did that already, he realises. He kissed him on the cheek. He was just apologising for that.

For a smart man, he’s really astonishingly stupid. And the man even took pity on him and told him that he looked good with a ponytail.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asks again, a little desperate. After all, he does feel sorry for what he did. “I feel like I should do something for you in exchange. I’m not sure what is appropriate, though. I don’t usually go around assaulting handsome men in the streets, believe me. No matter how tempting it might be.”

One of the exceedingly well-formed eyebrows on the stranger’s face twitches lightly. That’s about the most extreme facial reaction Wei Ying has received so far, and he isn’t entirely sure how to read it.

“Seriously,” Wei Ying emphasises. “Let me do something for you. As long as it doesn’t cost too much money though – I’m hopelessly poor.”

“There is no need,” the stranger finally deigns to reply. “Your apology is enough.”

“Wow,” Wei Ying cannot help but observe. “I wish all people were like you. No demands for compensation? You’re letting me off the hook very easily. But then, I guess the longer I’m standing around here, the more of a punishment this is for you. Uh. I’ll show myself out?”

The stranger looks at him again with a critical eye.

“You were waiting for you friend.”

It is more of an observation than a question.

“Yeah,” Wei Ying answers anyway. And then, he unnecessarily adds, “He also has long hair like you. That’s why I thought you were him.”

The stranger seems to consider that for a moment. Then he gestures towards the empty half of his bench.

“Wait.”

That.

That’s strangely nice of him, Wei Ying thinks with slight confusion. And hopefully not a precursor to murder.

In any case, he’s not going to look a gift horse into the mouth. With a feeling not unlike relief, he plops down onto the free half of the bench, and then smiles at this oddly civilised stranger.

He looks even handsomer from up close, Wei Ying cannot help but notices, and from here, he’s in a prime spot to admire the light golden shimmer of his eyes.

Wei Ying is struck. Such captivating, serious eyes, with a hidden depth that momentarily robs Wei Ying of his breath.

Something warm rises in his chest, sweet like honey.

Then he scolds himself. What foolish thoughts he’s having! Getting all mushy just because of a pair of reasonably pretty eyes!

(They’re beautiful, but that is not the problem here.)

“Wei Ying,” Wei Ying says, because if he doesn’t, he’ll probably say something much worse. “I promise I usually don’t assault handsome men on the street. Well. Unless I know them. I mean–”

There is the smallest twitch in the corner of the stranger’s mouth, and Wei Ying realises with uncomfortable, sudden clarity that the stranger is probably laughing at him.

It’s mortifying.

Maybe almost as mortifying as assaulting a perfect stranger with slobbery kisses.

If he had at least made it a good kiss. But no, he had to be all gross.

“Lan Zhan,” the stranger says, his voice serene, as if he hasn’t just accepted Wei Ying’s offering of peace.

Well.

Wei Ying thinks he might be able to deal with that.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, unable to contain a smile of his own. “It’s nice to meet you. This time without physical assault.”

---

When Wen Ning finally finds him twenty minutes later, Wei Ying has somehow successfully acquired a mobile phone number he’s 60% sure is not fake.

How, he isn’t entirely sure.  

#kuro writes #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs #mdzs shorts #anonymous

[nerdingoutonmain]

I am in love with the idea that Grogu is a happy little menace. Here's part of a wip that showcases that.

The doors to the salon burst open and a blob of water floated through the air closely followed by Grogu, stark naked and attention singularly on the alarmingly large amount of water. Din and the visitor paused mid-sentence, for what can one say when one is confronted with a force-sensitive child who has clearly escaped the bath and brought it with him? Luke scurried in behind the giggling child, his light-colored clothes completely soaked. Din tried not to get distracted by the way Luke’s shirt clung to his biceps and focused instead on the situation as a whole. Luke dove forward, scooping the child up in a fluffy towel and clearly taking over control of the floating water. Din could tell Grogu had relinquished control because the edges had stopped shifting and trembling as though the whole thing could come crashing down at any point. Din’s visitor clearly had not noticed the takeover. As Luke crouched with the cocooned Grogu on his lap, they shifted farther back into their chair as if doing so could save them from the potential splash zone of such a large amount of water. “Do you need to take care of this?” Their calm question belied their terror at the thought that they might become as soaked as Luke. “I don’t see why I would need to,” Din cocked his head to the side, helmet as inscrutable as ever. “Unless you’re insinuating my spouse can’t handle our child.” The threat behind his words went unspoken, but the visitor heard it anyway. “No, Mand’alor. It seems like he’s doing just fine on his own.” They began to fuss with the tray of finger foods that had been set out before them when it became clear that Din was neither going to rush Luke through his teachable moment with Grogu, or relocate the meeting.

Luke, for his part, was hiding his frustration well. He had full control of the bathtub full of water that, save for what got dumped on his head, Grogu had used the force to carry into the salon with the intent of soaking his Buir and the visitor. Luke suspected it was Grogu’s way of helping out. Reaching out with the Force, he asked Why did you bring the water in here? Grogu shared images and feelings that amounted to him telling Luke that Buir was unhappy with having to meet the visitor and it might be funny to see them fuss about being all wet. Luke switched to speaking out loud for Din’s and the visitor’s benefit. “Grogu, you can’t just throw water at people who aren’t expecting it. Think about when you are playing with the other children at the fountain in the square. Do you want to be pushed in unexpectedly?” Grogu’s ears drooped at the thought as he swiveled his head to rest his large eyes on Din. He shook his head along with sending the answer to Luke through the Force. No. That doesn’t sound fun. 

“Then maybe we can find something better to do with all this bath water?”

Grogu looked around the room in thought. Thirsty plants. He pointed to the multitude of potted plants adorning the room. “Good idea, little one. Do you want some help?” Grogu nodded and Luke helped him hold back the blob of water as he directed smaller portions of it into the pots. Luke could feel the plants perk up as they watered them and praised Grogu for turning what could have been an unpleasant situation into something positive. When the last plants had been watered, Luke scooped Grogu from the floor and stood in one fluid motion. “Let’s say goodnight to Buir.” He brought Grogu, still wrapped in the towel to Din, who took him and held him close, bumping their foreheads together. Luke leaned in as he took Grogu back and pressed his forehead to Din’s. “Sorry, Love.” Din hummed.

“Don’t apologize. I enjoy watching you teach him.”

#look idk if i used the word salon correctly #but i liked it better than sitting room #grogu #dinluke #din djarin #luke skywlker #drabble #current wip

[1358456]

Well, I didn’t want to, but... just for you, I went and looked up the pre-release pictures.

So... we have a grass cat, a fire gator, and a duck. Quack quack, motherf- Well, as long as the duck doesn’t wind up being a Water/Flying... You know, I think I like these designs better than Generation VIII Pokemon. So far, anyways. I wonder what the Legendaries would look like. “Scarlet”, so... a blob of red? And “Violet” so... either a blob of purple, or... a flower? There’s a flower called violet, isn’t there? Hehe. The ultimate twist would be if the Legendaries were like beige colored instead. “What is this, Generation I?!”

As for the players... hmm. Looking at the player designs and bits of the overworld... what’s the region based on this time? Germany? Hallo Deutschland... ... was ist das Name von... Crap. I forgot everything German. Tsk. I used to be damn good at speaking French and German. And I forgot all of that. Anyways. The region... some of the images look more Dutch, but all the others really feel like Deutsch.

Player designs! ... For the boy... er... ... I’ve seen tougher school boys. Can he ditch the tie? Right now, he looks like a mix of a kid going to elementary school for the first time and a mailman cosplay. If he holds an apple at any time, that’s absolutely a school boy. ... He definitely doesn’t look like the kind to have a scar... Unless he’s a dragon in the making, and has already seen and been through a whole ton of sh*t with that innocent ass uniform and expression. “Hmph. Just a bunch of mooks. Don’t matter how big a swarm they make, they’re still worthless. What a waste of time. I should get back home. I got math drills for homework.”

For the girl... hey, no miniskirt! Yay! ... Why does she look a solid 5 years older than the boy? The boy looks like he’s going to the elementary school for the first time, while the girl looks like she’s about to move on to middle school. She also has a tie, but she doesn’t look as young as the boy to make it look dorky. Asymmetrical hair style (not just the front). Huh. Feels like a first. Looks fine for now. Doesn’t have a dumb attire like Moon or HGSS Crystal, or a miniskirt like half the others. Still though, the player characters look very... young.